I returned to a place I saw liberated in 2001. Now the Taliban are back, and the only thing that has improved is the cell-phone reception.
Nearing the end of the road, our diarist reflects on the unlikely sanctuary she found in a blighted land.
Visiting the pediatrics center at an Afghan city hospital, in a country where only three out of four children live to be five.
Refugees from a place that no longer exists, these Afghan settlers live in a slapped-together collection of tents on land that belongs to their ancestral enemy.
No. But the question itself poses more questions than you might think.
In a tiny room with no door, in a village with no roads, a drugged woman ties thousands of knots to weave a rug for others to walk on.
Stopping through Mazar-e-Sharif, our correspondent witnesses one of the most disturbing side effects of the region's poverty: young boys with old faces.
They go take a hike -- and so does our diarist, spending a day of leisure on hills that were once bloody battlefields.
Back in Kunduz, encounters with the unfortunate men whose job it is to keep northern Afghans safe and secure.
Beginning the second week of her journey, our diarist encounters some shaky territory on the way to Kunduz.