My Adventure in Afghanistan

As the twentieth anniversary of the 9/11 attacks approaches along with the international military withdrawal, I recall a special moment I had there: attending Catholic Mass. However, before I share my story about the church, I must highlight that my culinary experience in Afghanistan was quite different from what I had in Iraq. Afghan food is remarkably similar to the food I had been exposed to during my adventures in India.

The food was flavored with spices, the rice and bread were great, and I could get Samosas which are vegetable or meat-filled pastry. The only difference was that Afghans served their Samosas cold while they are served hot in India. When an Afghan restaurant opened in my base camp in Kabul, my Afghan American friend Mir and I would go often.

During our meals, Mir and I would talk for hours about the history of Afghanistan and its historical connection to the ancient Persian (Iran) and Mughal (Indian) empires. During my research readings and conversations with Mir, I learned about the influence of Alexander the Great and his army’s occupation of Afghanistan. I was surprised to learn that the earliest images of Buddha were made in Afghanistan by artists who were exposed to Greek artisans. As a result, the earliest images of Buddha looked more Greek than that of an Indian Hindu Prince.

Buddhism was an important religion in Afghanistan, and there were giant statues of Buddha built in Bamiyan, Afghanistan, the Taliban destroyed in 2001 before the events of 9/11.

Since I enjoyed the food in Afghan, I had to burn off the calories by participating in grueling and fun CrossFit workouts. Working out in the morning with a group of motivated individuals made the time go by faster. I must admit the most strenuous exercise I ever did was administered by a young Marine Corporal (someone I have maintained contact with and have enjoyed seeing him promoted numerous times). His workout consisted of twenty minutes of continuous sprints, then twenty minutes of climbing up and downstairs, followed by a twenty-minute ab blaster workout. I burned over a thousand calories and never felt hungrier throughout the day. Such exercises made feasting on the Afghan food less guilt-driven.

Nearby my base camp, there were several other military camps and embassies within the Kabul green zone. Several co-workers and I would occasionally walk between the bases to eat at their dining facility or shop at their shops to get a change of scenery. When we walked between camps, we would pass Afghan children playing in the street or wandering away from them as they harassed us, begging for money. There was a group of kids that stood out to me. A group of Afghan girls was skating boarding around the area. I learned that they were part of a unique school program that taught the girls how to skateboard while doing their formal academic studies. One day, I heard a loud explosion right outside my base camp. The girls on skateboards noticed a suspicious person approaching our base camp and alerted the guards. Sadly, the girls did not survive when the suspicious person set off his suicide vest. Years later, I watched a documentary about the girls, and I remember the times I walked by them and thought about their bravery that day.

The tragic loss of the skateboarding girls was not the first time I had been exposed to death, either indirectly or directly. I had lost friends in Iraq and my little brother months before my deployment. In Afghanistan, a friend I knew from our days together in South Korea was killed when a suicide bomber struck. Another one was subdued by an American hero who earned the Congressional Medal of Honor for his actions in the same event. These events made me acutely aware of my mortality. Unlike my deployment to Iraq, I had a wife and children that kept me grounded. My sense of mortality led me to a unique spot in Afghanistan.

My friend Garrett, a devout Catholic, invited me to attend mass with him. At first, I thought he meant attend mass at the camp chapel where religious services for all denominations and sects. Garrett informed me that we would walk to the Italian Embassy located not too far from our base camp. As we walked to the Italian Embassy, Garrett gave me a history lesson I will never forget. The only holy Catholic church sanctioned in Islamic Afghanistan was in the Italian Embassy.

Garrett explained that Christian missionaries had traveled through Afghanistan for centuries; however, their presence remained small in the predominately Islamic country. The Catholic Church was allowed to establish a chapel in 1933 within the Italian Embassy. If you walk by it, you will see a simple cross near the entrance since overt religious displays are forbidden. As you step inside the courtyard, you will see a plane from World War I parked inside.

Garrett and I entered the chapel and took seats near the back. I attended mass and remembering feeling lost since it had been a while since I had participated in mass in Latin. The experience made me feel at peace. After the service, we walked back to our base camp and walked by the spot where the skateboarding girls gave their lives protecting foreigners like ourselves.

As the international role in Afghanistan comes to an end, I will never forget my time there and the experience I had to attend church at the Italian Embassy. I hope that things eventually improve in Afghanistan and that others can visit the church in Kabul, Afghanistan.