Planet Angel - Live an Ordinary Life in an Extraordinary Way

Phil; a like-minded and talented film producer, has been a part of the Planet Angel community for many years.   We look forward to the final edit of his most recent film, telling the story as filmed from aboard the Greenpeace ships as they tackle the destructive issue of fish piracy on our seas.  Here Phil shares some amazing and unexpected experiences during a recent trip to Kabul...

It's only been a couple of weeks since I landed in the snow at Kabul's international airport, my head swimming with lag and the fears that anyone who has never been here brings. Our media is full of stories of potential kidnappings, Suicide bomber threats and the spectre of the Taliban.

My first impression was the friendliness and welcome the people of Kabul have for anyone who arrives. For on first impressions it is a scary place, full of high walled razored wired buildings, men with Kalashnikovs and bright green pickups sporting menacing machine guns.  But welcome I feel. Innumerable cups of chai sabz - green tea- with dried fruits and a politeness that we seem to be losing in dear old Blighty.

I am staying at the Gandymak, run by an ex cameraman, and a sort of homage to the great game that has been played out by the various invaders of the last 2500 years. Flak jackets and tin hats are neatly lined up in the corridor for the journos going down south - not me -  and 19th Century rifles present themselves at the front door with a fine example hanging from my wall. The room looks out to TV mountain and its masts and receivers that broadcast the show I am making called Afghan Star, the pop idol contest of Afghanistan. And what a privilege this has been to see into the lives of ordinary Afghanis living and going through their week waiting for the day when the thing that lights up their life comes on air and gives them hope for the future. It might sound crazy, but so much depends on the young people of this country to be able to express themselves. Men and women cannot still dance in public... in fact there is no way to DANCE.

It’s strange how I had no interest in the pop star shows in the UK, judging them as trite entertainment and same old same old. Here the stakes are much higher and the show is being used to unite and push forward the rebuilding and reconciliation of the country. All tribes and regions are competing, some risking their lives to get to Kabul. 

Out of 2000 men, only 3 women applied and were given instant place to be in the first rounds. This is the bravest decision imaginable and one of the women who has just been voted off now cannot go back to her home town as her headdress fell down while she was on stage. She has no regrets and is such a brave and expressive person and part of the movement to bring back the lost freedoms of expression from war and intolerance.

Most nights I stay in the hotel. After a shooting at a five star hotel a few weeks ago the NGO's, contractors and UN are on a lockdown so the few bars and restaurants are either empty or shut. If I fancy a drink then there’s always the Hare and Hounds down in the cellar...  a complete pub with beer mats and beamed ceilings, shame the smoking ban hasn't been extended over here and a reminder of how horrid it used to be in the UK. It's an interesting place to meet the ones who do make it out of their compounds. There are the usual journalists, the architects that are not short of work, charity workers and private security guys. One night I met an Australian who not only said **** off every other phrase, but was intent on taking me to Kandahar for no good reason that he said he could. Topics of diamond mines in Africa, losing his buddies, and sticking up for the Afghan people and I'll get you to Kandahar in one peace (sic) again and again became a blur by the time I left at four. I think his name was something like Shimbi, but all I could remember was calling him "Sinbin" and him calling me "**** Off".

We were supposed to go to the North to film one of the contestants today. Got up in the dark, stumbled around, drove through the snow with our driver and bodyguard to the airport. We waited for news, plane delayed, so we turned the seats around in the van put a suitcase flat for more chai sabz and two packets of Funny Cake and another two packets of Cake Funny. Exactly the same thing if you like madeira cake for breakfast. Well the flight has been cancelled so I have the first free day to go off and Shop. And what shops, and so few customers. Like at the City Centre, a marble mall where I looked down the other day and saw I had left muddy footprints from my boots on the white tiles, a boy following behind me with a mop. There is money flooding into the city and I suppose it makes it way out to the people. But it is still distressing to see so many people begging between the lines of cars in the traffic jams and sooty faced children holding up cans with some smoky incense for good luck.

When the snow melts, there is mud everywhere with teams of orange suited workers shovelling and sweeping it off the roads. The city is clean and tidy and I am beginning to understand the pride the people of Kabul have. So much to do. The bullet and rocket holes in the building are the testament to the chaos that reigned here. Their houses, places of culture and entertainment have been destroyed and I can only hope that the process of reconciliation and building a secure future continues. Now I think I understand why the troops and NGO's are here and why the people I have met want them to stay.

Well thanks for reading this and sharing some of my thoughts and ramblings. I trust you are well and wish you all the best.

Phil
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