the_taliban_shuffle_-_kim_barker

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U.S. troops were killed in the ghting in May, any story in Afghanistan, where three U.S. troops were killed the same month, would likely grab little attention. Only about 18,000 U.S. troops had deployed to Afghanistan, mainly doing combat operations, and another 8,000 troops from other countries handled peacekeeping. True, more foreign troops were here than the year before, but the number was still nothing compared to Iraq, with 138,000 U.S. troops and 23,000 from other countries. Afghanistan was the small war, even if many were casting it as the “good war” compared to the badness of Iraq. But it was a small war. That spring of 2005, the Taliban were like mosquitoes, constantly irritating, occasionally fatal. Roadside bombs continued to kill soldiers, but helicopter crashes had proved more dangerous. Sure, the Taliban blew up things in the south, but so far they mostly blew up themselves, and their attempts to use recalcitrant donkeys as suicide bombers only provoked laughter. It was a known fact: Afghans and Pakistanis were probably the worst suicide bombers in the entire spectrum of militants. A photographer and I ew by helicopter to the Orgun-E base in Paktika to embed with U.S. soldiers. Paktika was almost the size of New Jersey, an extremely poor province with no paved roads and few schools, a mountainous and desolate wasteland plopped along the border with Pakistan, right across from the mountainous tribal agencies of North and South Waziristan, otherwise known as Terrorist Haven, the vacuums of Pakistani authority where the Taliban held sway. The U.S. philosophy had been explained to me at Bagram Aireld, the largest U.S. military base in Afghanistan—the troops “drained swamps,” which meant hunting down militants, while “emboldening local leaders and the population.” As long as I was running away from my problems, I wanted to get out on the front lines, where the swamps were being drained. My goal was a town called Bermel, which the Taliban had seized earlier, cutting o the police chief’s head. U.S. and Afghan troops had recaptured the town and were ghting the bad guys nearby. (I later found out that this was known in military parlance as “troops in contact,” or TIC, or “tick.” I would learn that everything in the military had an acronym. The IED was an improvised explosive device, or a roadside bomb. The BBIED was a body-borne improvised explosive device, otherwise known as a
was a body-borne improvised explosive device, otherwise known as a suicide bomber. And the DBIED was a donkey-borne improvised explosive device, otherwise known as a really stupid idea.) Yes, I wanted to get my war on, because I had no idea what I was talking about, what war was really like. To ll my spare time, and to make sure I didn’t have a spare second to think, I even lugged along something to set the mood, a miniseries about war, Band of Brothers. I planned to be all war, all the time. But as soon as I stepped o the helicopter and met the base media handler, I gured out I was in the wrong place. It soon became obvious that he was unlikely to send me anywhere. “When you go to the bathroom at night, be sure to take your photographer,” my handler told me. “There are only three other women here.” I wasn’t sure who or what, exactly, he was worried about, and I didn’t know the proper protocol, so I just smiled and nodded. I knew if he wanted the male photographer to shadow me to the bathroom, we would never be own to the ghting nearby, close to the border with Pakistan. Every day I asked for a “bird,” guring that if I used military slang, it would help. Every day I was told no. And I could see why— soldiers were actually ghting the Taliban down near Bermel, and as journalists, we were the last priority for the precious air slots available, slightly below mail. So instead, the photographer and I were sent out on trips with a platoon of combat engineers who were so bored that the leader carried copies of The Complete Guide to Investing in Rental Properties and Own Your Own Corporation with him on patrol. “Oh, it’s going to be a long, boring day,” he said at the beginning of one. Then he realized that sounded bad. “That’s a good thing.” That day alone, we visited ve villages. The soldiers had several missions. To nd out about Afghans in army uniforms robbing so-called jingle trucks, the acid-trip trucks from Pakistan that transported most food and supplies in the region and featured uorescent fantasy paintings and dangly metal chains that clanked together and sounded like “Jingle Bells.” To nd out about a nearby IED. To nd out about an alleged insurgent named “Hamid Wali” or maybe “Mohammad Wali,” no one seemed sure—names here frankly as common as Jim or John Wilson. And always, their mission was to win hearts and minds, to
Page 3 and 4: Copyright © 2011 by Kim Barker The
Page 5 and 6: Cover Title Page Copyright Dedicati
Page 10 and 11: KABUL
Page 12 and 13: CHAPTER 1
Page 14 and 15: enough to make it into my newspaper
Page 16 and 17: championship game. Like everyone el
Page 18 and 19: grueling way we came, seven hours,
Page 20 and 21: nothing like the Taliban. But they
Page 22 and 23: clear sign I was a foreigner, we dr
Page 24 and 25: I CHAPTER 2 MONTANA ew home to Chic
Page 26 and 27: nancial ruin. I cobbled together re
Page 28 and 29: city of about three or four million
Page 30 and 31: one is supposed to be happy at an A
Page 34 and 35: can work with someone who says bad
Page 36 and 37: thrown at their palace compound. I
Page 38 and 39: confused with the recently opened A
Page 40 and 41: smiled, even when talking about tra
Page 42 and 43: convinced Ismail Khan to abandon He
Page 44 and 45: CHAPTER 4 THERE GOES MY GUN D espit
Page 48 and 49: John Wilson. And always, their miss
Page 50 and 51: I knew this from Afghans—they fea
Page 52 and 53: A boy poured the sweet milky tea fr
Page 54 and 55: watch me take notes. In return, I w
Page 56 and 57: I CHAPTER 5 ONE WAY OR ANOTHER n Ka
Page 58 and 59: We said goodbye to the taxi driver
Page 60 and 61: Nasir looked at me, as if I had any
Page 62 and 63: “They want money,” Farouq told
Page 66 and 67: Warlords then took positions outsid
Page 68 and 69: three pigs were elsewhere at the ti
Page 70 and 71: me back and all was forgiven, espec
Page 72 and 73: Sean, the British journalist who wa
Page 74 and 75: eversed one of its only decisions t
Page 76 and 77: I CHAPTER 7 MONKEY GONE TO HEAVEN l
Page 78 and 79: oy. But now it was too cold for suc
Page 80 and 81: pressure cooker, going from home to
Page 82 and 83: Kabul High. One night, as I sat wit
Page 84 and 85: force, maybe two to three thousand
Page 88 and 89: landed rst in Pakistan, then the Un
Page 90 and 91: Indian capital’s dingy airport be
Page 92 and 93: laid out carpets in the dirt for us
Page 94 and 95: simply lming a documentary on the h
Page 96 and 97:
sleep early. At 3 AM, my phone star
Page 98 and 99:
CHAPTER 9
Page 100 and 101:
neighborhood of Shir Pur, where the
Page 102 and 103:
“Sami thinks he’s got a way to
Page 104 and 105:
seemed adamant about returning norm
Page 106 and 107:
for everything. In short, he needed
Page 108 and 109:
apart, and entire chunks had crumbl
Page 110 and 111:
years, no one will recognize you li
Page 112 and 113:
1980s, they had been reluctant to l
Page 114 and 115:
mysteriously end up dead. We soon d
Page 116 and 117:
CHAPTER 10 HELL YES S ure, Operatio
Page 118 and 119:
this to be the best embed possible.
Page 120 and 121:
out two large guns on the side of t
Page 122 and 123:
so thin, they had no time to worry
Page 124 and 125:
screen, we watched the bomb hit, se
Page 126 and 127:
CHAPTER 11
Page 128 and 129:
would be the rst to have sex outsid
Page 130 and 131:
Alaska if you were a woman—the od
Page 132 and 133:
omber had hit a U.S. military convo
Page 134 and 135:
I could do, and I had to work. This
Page 136 and 137:
in Kabul. The Fun House would soon
Page 138 and 139:
CHAPTER 12 BARELY LEGAL M y eccentr
Page 140 and 141:
good rule of thumb for most Afghan
Page 142 and 143:
“He thinks you love him,” she s
Page 144 and 145:
everyone talked about, the example
Page 146 and 147:
“My idea is this,” I told the N
Page 148 and 149:
PART II WHACK- A-STAN
Page 150 and 151:
CHAPTER 13 UNDER PRESSURE T housand
Page 152 and 153:
and West Pakistan, nearly a million
Page 154 and 155:
ght. Throughout the 1980s, the Unit
Page 156 and 157:
seizing power almost eight years ea
Page 158 and 159:
moving much at all. The team’s to
Page 160 and 161:
whenever we hit a town, or even an
Page 162 and 163:
CHAPTER 14
Page 164 and 165:
were killed. One head cleric, who h
Page 166 and 167:
Samad called me “boss.” Often h
Page 168 and 169:
platform just above the driver, we
Page 170 and 171:
abbit hole I had fallen, I saw it a
Page 172 and 173:
CHAPTER 15
Page 174 and 175:
frantically called people in Pakist
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lown up near the local ISI office.
Page 178 and 179:
deep-fried packets, and sweet milky
Page 180 and 181:
cell phones—but each was close to
Page 182 and 183:
spontaneous outpouring of grief, no
Page 184 and 185:
CHAPTER 16
Page 186 and 187:
power and allowed the plane to land
Page 188 and 189:
nally told me, referring to Sharif
Page 190 and 191:
“Yes, Mian Sahib’s schedule is
Page 192 and 193:
“That was bad planning,” Sharif
Page 194 and 195:
I snapped a photograph with my Blac
Page 196 and 197:
CHAPTER 17 LUCKY STAR B uried by th
Page 198 and 199:
the south weren’t allowed to work
Page 200 and 201:
audience, who booed Lima. Some of t
Page 202 and 203:
something. It’s very sensitive.
Page 204 and 205:
Only then would I learn that everyo
Page 206 and 207:
CHAPTER 18 SUSPICIOUS MINDS M y new
Page 208 and 209:
up plates lled with various lukewar
Page 210 and 211:
“Pull over,” I told Samad. We s
Page 212 and 213:
kidnapped.” I felt ill. As far as
Page 214 and 215:
handed me the keys. “We’re hiri
Page 216 and 217:
CHAPTER 19 REBEL, REBEL S omething
Page 218 and 219:
“What the hell?” I asked myself
Page 220 and 221:
a very poor job keeping current pla
Page 222 and 223:
minutes than we did in six hours.
Page 224 and 225:
“All my ex-boyfriends? There’s
Page 226 and 227:
I CHAPTER 20 WHY CAN’T WE BE FRIE
Page 228 and 229:
President Pervez Musharraf, who had
Page 230 and 231:
directionless as a headless chicken
Page 232 and 233:
“Lady, give me your CV. CV,” he
Page 234 and 235:
I had no idea who sent the message.
Page 236 and 237:
CHAPTER 21 LONDON CALLING A fter na
Page 238 and 239:
ad economy, the war, the Pakistani
Page 240 and 241:
shook Nawaz’s hand—he had soft
Page 242 and 243:
“BlackBerry, Nokia, or iPhone, Ki
Page 244 and 245:
CHAPTER 22 DEADBEAT CLUB A s soon a
Page 246 and 247:
ut it had always been Silver Fox pr
Page 248 and 249:
probably killers. “Farouq?” I s
Page 250 and 251:
the deal, reporting that the video
Page 252 and 253:
CHAPTER 23
Page 254 and 255:
eturned from Pakistan. He hadn’t
Page 256 and 257:
against temptation” but with thes
Page 258 and 259:
“I can’t take it.” “Why not
Page 260 and 261:
cassettes (DVs). The mayor called u
Page 262 and 263:
CHAPTER 24
Page 264 and 265:
Farouq, helping the New York Times
Page 266 and 267:
world believed the country was abou
Page 268 and 269:
Why did I want to stay so much, in
Page 270 and 271:
CHAPTER 25
Page 272 and 273:
time seeing Afghans as the other. T
Page 274 and 275:
turn to the right,” the first lie
Page 276 and 277:
And then, in another nine months, t
Page 278 and 279:
police riding tractors that ripped
Page 280 and 281:
I CHAPTER 26 WHEN THE MAN COMES ARO
Page 282 and 283:
actually might win. For the past tw
Page 284 and 285:
Farouq had told me how he would pol
Page 286 and 287:
and without telling my bosses. And
Page 288 and 289:
CHAPTER 27 HOTEL CALIFORNIA U nempl
Page 290 and 291:
paying my salary. Many diplomats ra
Page 292 and 293:
wrappers. After the usual deep-tiss
Page 294 and 295:
heavy makeup, $70,000 worth of gold
Page 296 and 297:
to do here. Karzai would eventually
Page 298 and 299:
the air. For hours we danced, that
Page 300 and 301:
EPILOGUE
Page 302 and 303:
Helmand district of Marja ended up
Page 304 and 305:
Taliban’s clutches in Pakistan.
Page 306 and 307:
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Page 308 and 309:
my absurd vision. I’m indebted to
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