The picture above–of me in my burqa blue–was snapped while driving through Taliban governed areas of Afghanistan. I’m looking forward to sharing a piece, adapted from the Afghanistan chapter of my new manuscript, about my time living with a kind and generous Afghan family.
“Having watched years of filtered and sterilized images of Afghanistan that contrasted with everything I knew about the reality on the ground, I’d grown increasingly frustrated in my mind, and tormented in my heart about the never-ending war in Afghanistan. Feeling powerless to affect any real change from my isolated and ineffectual perch in the ivy tower, I figured that hopping on a plane to bear witness to the crimes being committed in my—our?—name, while carrying a message of peace from my heart to theirs, might be the only way to make any dent of difference on the ground–however small. Since my country couldn’t—or wouldn’t–make peace, was I prepared to die trying? Or was I just seeking absolution for offenses that were not my own? Or was I just insane?”