Cozy Crib

Staying Warm

New Day

Winter Cold

Security Alert

My home unlike most ground-level dwellings around my crib is on the 1^st floor. Today there are wonderful views of the Hindu Kush to the south. From the flat expanse of the desert they jut up suddenly and in mid-December are already covered by early season snow. It is mid-morning and I am perched somewhat precariously on the north-facing foot-wide ledge at the back of the house. Shoddy workmanship means that most of the panels were left unpainted and all of them have warped leaving the wall that catches the brunt of the wind, rain and snow is vulnerable. Hopefully the patching up I have done and paint job will keep out the worst of the winter weather to come. There is a 20 foot drop down to the backyard below and so I have rigged up a secure line over the roof to my climbing harness. I didn’t expect it to get much use but it has already come in very handy as I have overseen Afghan workers who wouldn’t bother with such safety considerations unless I insisted. I certainly don’t want to have to explain to their wives and children of avoidable accident, nor have any misfortune come my way either. I announce my presence on the ledge in Dari (the local Persian language commonly know as Farsi) so as to inform my neighbours that their private domain where woman go unveiled is now visible. The father of the household heads out the gate and greets me telling me that my ‘invasion’ of his domain is not a problem. Maybe he’s impressed by my DIY work and perhaps surprised that I haven’t paid a local to do it for US$15. My focus is firmly on staying safe and getting my work finished before my hands freeze and become permanently claw-like. The local boys look up from the marble playing and are intrigued by this foreign spectacle. What follows is a friendly initial exchange after I greet them followed by increasingly rude demands for my full attention. I continue with my work. Unsatisfied, the boys try to engage me with a short volley of stones which land around me. Enough! They get the message soon enough that they have gone too far and depart the scene perhaps wondering about consequences. Ah, boys will be boys eh? Shortly afterwards my neighbour’s son comes and stands beneath the wall. He smiles up at me and makes sure I know that he wasn’t one of the culprits. We have a nice though limited conversation and initiate what I hope will become good relations with the family next door. Then boom! A bomb explodes and reverberates towards my lofty perch overlooking the roofs of Mazar. Before I see any smoke the sirens wail and my mind rushes to the scene. The incident alert text arrives from our security officer within minutes. Its contents I already know. As details of the incident become clearer, I discover that four have died in the attack.

Dawn

The day breaks crisp and clear. Condensation covers the bedroom windows which have been sealed with plastic sheeting as a kind of cheap and seasonal double glazing for winter. The early morning sun glows orange through the frosted glass. Still, the insulation isn’t so effective as to prevent the cold from penetrating my house. My breath is visible as I get up to fill the kettle from my kitchen tap and light the gas hob. These comforts I do have in the crib I call home and which I finally moved into last week. Frequent power outages and insufficient water pressure to motivate the hot water to flow from my boiler are inconvenient. However, I am fortunate that my day does not start with a walk along the rutted, muddy and frost-hardened street to pump water from the well. For many of my neighbours this is a daily task.