To tell the truth this will not be a real diary, to keep a diary you need to be constant and I am not, what I write will therefore be, more simply, a collection of impressions.
To begin with, today is January 31, 2012, a lot of days have passed since the beginning of the mission and as my memory becomes more and more unstable I decided to write something before time completely erases the images and sensations I experienced. .
I am sorry for those who will read it, they will perhaps not find anything beautiful or compelling, they will not find fights, hatred for the enemy, but only memories and impressions. I will not pay too much attention to the form either, these pages are for me a reminder of an intensely lived part of my life.
February 2012 - Herat
Yesterday I was in the center of Herat and was impressed. Along the main street it is full of people doing all kinds of activities, with no respect for age.
I have seen children who must have been six or seven years old wandering around the street, alone, with a bundle of brooms and shovels on their backs, looking for a buyer; I immediately thought about my son Francesco and how lucky he is.
Francesco, if one day you will read these pages, I hope you will want to think about it.
Then going towards the center I saw some Afghan women, or rather, I saw some clothes walking on the street ...
It is impressive to see people completely covered. Most also had their eyes covered with a gray net. I immediately thought of ghosts, ghosts of women ... will it be so? Or does their civilization make it absolutely normal for them? My studies don't help me.
The city is in turmoil!
The most used means of locomotion is the motor-bike, Ape style. They exist open and closed and in the rear box you can see entire families. They are very beautiful and features. Almost always red with drawings of hearts and many embroideries as if to express the joy of owning something.
Many people travel by motorbike, old motorbikes and motorbikes of all kinds. Things that have disappeared from us. The houses then, what to say ?!
The oldest are made of mud and straw bricks, as they were once built in Sardinia in the villages ... all attached to each other. The domed roof and a funnel for each of them.
Then there are more recent buildings, in concrete blocks. And finally, from time to time, you can see some well-groomed, fenced-in construction with a nice iron gate, with an armed guard on the front ...
Along the streets, a strip of mud and water. Then, a little further, the "commercial and craft enterprises". These are many small shops all lined up with exhibits showing off their goods for sale.
From the armored window of the car you could see goods for sale, pieces for cars and motorcycles, stuff for the house, water reserves ...
It was an interesting day after all, my first approach to a different civilization, tormented by the war but which in the end seems to be looking forward to being reborn.
