Well, that was scary. I was writing a report and heard a HUGE explosion behind me, then shouting. I got up, and my two colleagues motioned me to get down. I crouched down and then got up to walk to the hallway. We all crowded in the hallway and just stood there.
I was trembling.
I ran back into my office to grab my phone, in case my Madar called.
I went into my neighbor’s office and looked out the window. They were carrying an Afghan guard to a car. My colleague said, “There’s a man whose legs were blown off.” I didn’t see that, thankfully. I walked out of her office and said, they’re killing innocents. They’re killing people with families.
In the span of 10 minutes (or longer? Shorter?), we all went back to our offices and tried to settle down.
I received phone calls from friends. I tried not to cry as I told them about the Afghan man being carried to a car. I called my Khala who is here in Kabul. I called one friend who I thought might have been out there. I did a little prayer and thanked God that I am okay. Please pray for those hurt.
Then I went back and typed up the rest of my report.
I heard a number of conflicting stories, and finally, that the explosion wasn’t that big. I just looked out the window and the little old lady that peppered me with questions is outside and obviously interrogating a police officer. They are pushing a hatchback, with its back blown out, to some location.
This morning, I saw a stuffed tiger (a doll) perched on the fence that surrounds the circle’s water fountain. I shouted, “I love this country! Someone put a fake tiger up and fake rose bouquets by the water fountain, in celebration for turning on the water fountain (that was my next planned post)”
I still love it here, but I’m not going to lie, I was scared.