IMPORTANT: Before you read the long post, please close the page if you intend to promote this article as a warning to others. I am only sharing my personal experience and it is not intended to scare anyone. In fact, I encourage others to visit Afghanistan with safety measures.

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Let me take you on my mental and physical journey to Afghanistan…

I have always wanted to visit Afghanistan, and other conflicted countries. The sudden visa approval from Pakistan led to an impulsive decision to visit Afghanistan.

Another main reason is that I could cross from the border, hence I won’t have to spend a a lot of money on expensive flight to Afghanistan.

I purchased a one way flight to Islamabad as I did not know whether I would fly out from Afghanistan or Pakistan. After I received my Afghanistan visa, I booked my return flight from Kabul.

I was filled with excitement when I received my visa until I saw a post on a traveler who was recently shot by militants and the news paralyzed me. I am not certain how true this is, however, that’s what his followers mentioned in the comment. I did not dig deeper. I couldn’t.

Many of you may not know but I don’t read news unless if it is something positive. You may think I’m ignorant for disregarding the negativity and real life tragedies happening around the world, but I would rather get the news from first hand experiences such as  locals living the situation.

Given that I don’t read the news; I don’t study the conflicted countries that I plan to go to. Because studying means I have to read the news and that leads to instilling fear and self doubt. I don’t need that.

Instead, I turn to Couchsurfing and backpackers community who have first hand experiences in the recent past along with locals living in the country. They give the best insight and advise. For me, that’s the real deal without any provoking message.

Turned out, it wasn’t only the news that I needed to avoid, but also people. Random people with negativity.

Another thing which you may not know about me is that I believe in signs. And sometimes, I get lost in translation and end up with self conflict and doubt.

I was on edge most of the time after reading the tragedy of a fellow backpacker. It kept playing on the back of my head “Is this a wake up call? Is this a sign?” and it only got worse as the days go by. More signs and scare talk kept coming my way from strangers.

I was sitting in a cafe, minding my own business when a Pakistani lady who came from the US approached the table and started to have a conversation.

The first conversation goes around “So, are you traveling alone?” “Aren’t you scared traveling along around Pakistan?” While all that is pretty normal until the lady went with; “There was an incident that happened on our way to Hunza. We stopped by an area which is known to be dangerous but we did anyway because we wanted to use the restroom. So we were going up to the houses to ask them but then the officials told us to come back down. It all seemed very innocent to us as they are just people. Until a few men from the house followed us and told our husbands that we were lucky to be warned or else no one would find us again”

As she was speaking, I was staring and listening intently and somewhat also blanked out while my body was pretty much paralyzed. She then pointed her finger at me and said “Okay, I’m scaring you so I’m going to stop talking. You look extremely frightened” and I was just baffled.

I laughed and said “What?! Did I actually look scared? Was it written all over my face? No, no I’m fine!”

Yeah. Right.

“Is this a sign?” “I’m going to a country that has danger written all over and I also look at it as something very innocent.”

Few minutes went by, then a lady came by whom I had spoke to on the phone the night before through a Couchsurfer who connected us.

She sat on the table and we had a nice chat then I came to know she’s a journalist and when she found out I was going to cross border to Afghanistan, she advised not to go from the border. 

Here we go again.

As she goes out for a smoke, I followed her with curiosities and so many questions. She’s a journalist and a traveler. Surely, she would understand where I’m coming from and how I feel.

This is the gist of how the conversation went on:

Me: So, tell me. Why is it not safe? What could go wrong?

Kiran: The route from Torkham to Kabul passes by Jalallabad which is occupied by a certain group of militant. I have interviewed them in the past and they look for anything. And seeing that you’re a solo female backpacker, they would think you have money.

Me: Clearly, they have a different definition of a backpacker.

Kiran: Well yes, these people are uneducated. They think anyone who travels have money.

Me: Okay, so you’ve interviewed them. You’ve seen them. What could I do if anything goes south?

Kiran: Nothing. It’s out of anyone’s control. If you’re lucky then you might be able to get to Kabul safely and seeing that you’ve gone this far, you seem pretty lucky. If I look back, I have also done major things and I am lucky to still be here. I understand that you want to get the organic experience of crossing the border and see how things are in real life and I hope you get to do that safely but there are risks along the way. I hope you do cross the border and make it home safely and if you get extremely nervous then just fly there.

Me: Well, it’s not like I have an option, there isn’t any direct flight to Kabul until next Monday which would be too late.

Kiran: Well then, good luck with it. I hope you have a safe journey and come out of it with a story to tell.

Me: IF I come back safely.

Kiran: You know the risks but I hope you make it through and come out stronger.

Me: If.

“Is this a sign?”

I was in Hunza which is about 12 to 15 hours drive away from Islamabad. I needed to go back to Islamabad in order to cross the border. The carpool was arranged to leave Hunza on Monday 4:00 a.m. and arriving in Islamabad by Monday 6:00 p.m.

However, the driver didn’t answer or confirm the trip. Then, I found another driver who was ready to leave. So I quickly told Kiran and another traveler in excitement, “YOU GUYS! So listen! This driver can carpool now to Islamabad which means I will arrive by 10:00 a.m. in Islamabad and there is a direct flight to Kabul at 11:30! Should I take the flight? Is this a sign? Is this God’s way of telling me to take the only direct flight this week?!”

My anxiety went from 100 to 0 for about 2 minutes until the driver sent another message; “Sorry, I cannot leave now. I found another passenger so we have to leave on Monday 7:00 a.m.”

Not again. Back to square one. What is the universe trying to tell me?!

Stress. Anxiety. Self doubt. Negative thoughts. Worst images. You name it. My mind was all over the place, I couldn’t feel my body.

I arrived in Islamabad, and met my host. He offered his family’s wedding hall to crash in and we sat through the night trying to figure out a way to Kabul in the safest way possible.

Generally, this is how it goes to cross the border.

Carpooling:

Shared car from Rawalpindi to Torkham Border

Cross the border and find another carpool to Kabul.

Public Transport:

Take a bus from Rawalpindi to Peshawar

Take another van or carpool to Torkham Border

Cross the border and find another carpool to Kabul.

But, it was Eid. Tuesday was Eid in Afghanistan and Wednesday was Eid in Pakistan.

So no one was traveling and no one was willing to drive on those days. There were a few who was willing to go but they asked for triple the price which was out of my budget.

Monday night, arrived in Islamabad around 10:00 p.m., took a refreshing shower and went to a cafe to sort things out thinking that I would be leaving to the border by Tuesday 4:00 a.m.

(The time is used as a sequence reference)

Monday 11:00 p.m. – Found a car with an Afghani family. PERFECT! I could tag along with them and have them help me cross the border and to Kabul.

Monday 11:30 p.m. – Driver called and said “Sorry, the family cancelled so I can’t go unless if you want to rent the entire car” F*** I can’t rent the entire car and I also need a local to be with me to help in border crossing!

Monday 11:30 p.m. – 3:00 a.m. – We sat in a cafe, my host called everyone possible and we came up with Plan A, B ,C D, E. I even offered to pay anyone to come with me. ANYONE! Free ride to Kabul!

Nothing worked.

Then a random guy from another table decided to pop in the conversation.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I overheard that you are planning to go to Torkham border”

My host: Yes, she is going alone.

Random guy: NO NO NO! It’s dangerous. Man, you can’t go there alone. You need to contact your embassy for a security guard or ask any of the FC to go with you. It’s no joke yo. I went there randomly just to check it out at 2a.m. and they were so rough. I got into a huge fight with them. But seriously speaking, you should NOT go alone.

Me: Blanks into space and paralyzed.

My friend’s family in Afghanistan called at 3 a.m. asking if I am crossing in 3 hours, I was doubtful and she also wanted to find an easier way so she said she will try to figure something out and to wait for her call the next day.

I agreed. One more day of waiting and anxiety won’t hurt. I’ve done 4 days already.

So I looked at my host and said;

Me: What do you have tomorrow?

My host: I’m free this week.

Me: You’re coming to Lahore with me whether you like it or not.

My host: WHAT?

Me: *Check bus schedules* There’s a bus leaving at 6:30 a.m.! In 3 hours! We can make it.

My host: Wait! What if ……….

Me: No. This is it. Nothing worked. I’ll wait another day to go to the border.

My host: Okay. Fine.

So we hardly slept, got to the bus station at exactly 6:30 and watched the bus drove past us so we had to wait another hour for the next bus.

I enjoyed my day in Lahore and kept the stress away until the day ended. My host and I went to a restaurant for dinner. I was hungry but I couldn’t eat. There was too much going on in my head.

We started to make calls again and did our plan A, B, C ,D and whatever it takes. But this time was different, I had to make a decision and go. Whatever price it takes.

Not to mention, few days before my journey begin, there was a bomb in Kabul.  There were more scare talks but I’ll save them for myself.

My host said “Talk to your husband”

I wander off solo around the world and my husband fully understands my passion and supports me one hundred percent.

So I messaged him to let him know about my dilemma.

He says “Be safe, and let me know what happens”

I love him even more for that. He knows not to discourage me. If anything happens, it happens right? Our life is written.

I also would like to thank the Couchsurfing and Backpacker community who have given me the boost and positive spirit to go through the border after all the negative and scare talks I received.

My host and I arrived to Islamabad at 3:00 a.m., and in 3 hours max I need to start my journey to the border so I can get to Kabul during day light, but I did not have any ride yet.

As we drove off from the bus station, my host saw another transport company and got off the car to check their rate and availability.

He came back to the car and said “You were looking for someone who is desperate for money and would work in Eid right? Well, we found your guy! 50USD from Islamabad to the border.”

Me: I’LL TAKE IT!

It’s the cheapest offer I found during the eid days. Even though the car is without AC but I couldn’t care less. I just wanted to get to the border.

I quickly called my friend’s family in Kabul to let her know that I am leaving at 6:00 a.m. so she can pick me up from the other side of the border in time. The travel time for her and me to the border is the same. Except, my driver sped off and reduced the time by an hour!

Let me rewind a little here. While I was trying to find rides from Islamabad to the border, my host in Afghanistan was also trying to find ways to get me from the Afghanistan border to Kabul. She eventually decided that she would personally pick me from the border. This was a MAJOR relief. She went out of her way and spent 8 hours in a car only to pick me from the border.

However, my Kabul’s host and couchsurfer biggest fear was the border itself, not the journey to Kabul.

When I decided to cross the border, the first thing they asked “Do you speak Farsi? Pashto? Urdu?”

The armies and officials on the border speak only those mentioned languages and absolutely no English or Arabic.

I was also advised to maintain a low profile and that is almost impossible while having to speak in English trying to explain to every single army I pass by. They see my Yemeni passport, solo female backpacker who dresses and look very different to what they usually see. They keep saying I’m American because I spoke in English.

My host and Couchsurfer in Afghanistan was right. The border was the hardest part. It was rough. Very rough. But then again I was very lucky as I traveled in Eid and the border was practically empty. It would have been ten times harder if it was in any normal days.

Now that I look back, it was completely doable. I don’t regret a single bit of what had happened. It was a self learning experience more than anything. There was a lot of self reflection throughout the tough times and I can only thank God for another blessed day in this small world.

Thank you for everyone who was there for me through all of this and made it easier and possible.

Grateful for my my husband, my hosts, couchsurfing and backpacker community; you guys were my rock.

Please don’t feel discouraged but do take safety measures such as having a local with you or as a contact person throughout the journey. They know the ins and outs.

To read about my border crossing experience, click here!