![]() Greater economic opportunity would mean less likelihood of people accepting payments from insurgents to shoot at coalition forces or to blow things up.Īfghans posed for pictures with me looking like a dork in my frumpy body armor and thick-rimmed ballistic goggles. The theory was that with paved roads came increased economic development. Road construction was one of America’s major initiatives, counterinsurgency 101. At least it allowed me to speak with Afghans about their experiences. government’s provincial reconstruction teams. I had hoped to head out on combat patrols in Laghman, but instead I was assigned to travel around with one of the U.S. As I waited there for transportation to Laghman, I spoke with the brigade commander, who told me in no uncertain terms that security was getting worse, there was no chance of locking down the border, and if Pakistan provided haven, the Taliban would be difficult to beat. ![]() I arrived at Bagram, then flew to Camp Fenty. Many didn’t want to, or couldn’t, return to their homes, and so they stayed, crowded into informal settlements. ![]() Kabul was full of people who had fled the provinces over the years to escape conflict. A driver took me north, past mud houses seemingly stacked on top of one another up the hills. Kabul looked like a cross between Russia and Sudan: The gray sky and scattered trees were Moscow, and the rundown buildings and hordes of vendors were Khartoum. I landed in Kabul and hauled my gear into the dusty winter air. I had been granted an embed in Laghman, a province in northeast Afghanistan where the Taliban had supply lines to Pakistan. couldn’t touch (at least not with ground forces), the war was doomed. It was clear that if the Taliban had a sanctuary the U.S. That first trip, I was reporting on the Taliban’s use of Pakistani tribal regions as a training ground. Read: Afghanistan did not have to turn out this way Only later would I realize how oblivious I had been to the true human costs of the conflicts I had sought to cover. When I finally had the chance, I dove in. I was a public-radio correspondent and had produced stories about Afghanistan for years, but I had been longing to report from the field. The passengers were generally poor construction workers, mercenaries, contractors, and journalists like me. Terminal 2 was for the discount carriers flying to South and Central Asia and parts of Africa-places like Uzbekistan, Somalia, Iraq, and Afghanistan. Dubai International Airport was one of the glitziest in the world-enormous and modern and filled with luxury shops and lounges. In January 2009, I flew to Dubai and got my first taste of what I would come to know as the Terminal of Lost Souls.
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