We had been cleared by our security folks to go to Istalef which is about 50 km north of Kabul on the Shamali plain along the road that takes travellers to about one third of all the provinces north of Kabul. It is the road to the Panshir, to the Salang Pass, further north to Mazar-e-Sharif. It is where the Bagram airbase is located. Because of this the Shamali plains are strategic and so there has often been heavy fighting in this area, all through history.
From a distance Istalef looks like a green patch that was slapped against the side of the brown mountains, halfway between the flatland of the plains and the enormous and ragged snow-covered peaks. This makes it look small and insignificant. But it never was, mostly because of its strategic location; you can see far north and south from the village and so everyone wanted it.
Massoud had his headquarters up there some time. There is a French connection (Massoud attended the French Lycee Istiqlal in Kabul and received is first publicity from the French government and press). We passed by the ‘ecole mixte’ and saw many other signs of projects that have a picture of the French flag and Dari translated into French.
We drove up to a place in the shade for our picnic. One of our guards who lives nearby, arrived on his motorcycle with his cousin. They brought a large pot of homemade yogurt, something for which Istalef is well known. The guards bought fresh bread, some of it filled with dal, potato and sweet potato, in the village and everyone shared with everyone.
I had tried to organize our party (several of my male colleagues) to share the task of preparing a picnic but no one had bothered and so everyone ate what I had brought. Axel had to agree that this was a male thing – men have wives who prepare such things, and I happened to be the only wife around.
After our picnic we walked up to the roof of the still bombed out hotel where four years ago Sita and I also had a picnic with our MSH colleagues who then lived here. I am glad that Axel also got to see the place. Now only Tessa hasn’t been here. Come on over Tess!
You need a little bit of imagination to look past the crater, the blackened or collapsed walls and the bricked up windows to see the fantasy place this could be. The roof also serves as a huge terrace with breathtaking views in all directions over the plain, framed by spectacular and high mountains.
Below is we could see a small stream where cars were washed, and children were playing in the water. Yet all around this idyllic scene are the remains of mud-brick houses that were destroyed by aerial attacks and heavy mortar.
The hotel itself has never recovered except for the garden that is lovingly tended by the gardener who lives amidst the debris in a greenhouse made from plastic. His roses could win prizes in garden shows in England.
Other than yogurt, Istalef is also famous for its turquoise and brown pottery.
We spent quite a bit of time walking up and down the main street looking for the perfect pieces of the somewhat brittle pottery. I haggled about the prices in my best Dari and we are now the proud owners of several small and large bowls, including some dishes from which to eat the famous yogurt and a pot in which to make it.
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