The day dragged on. Hot, dusty and filled with the usual problems that come with a paycheck. The problems were not surprising, nor were they out of the ordinary. They were, however, clustered right at the end of a day on which I actually had plans…a Memorial Day party with a colleague agency. I struggled to get out the door, into the shower and on the road by 6:30 – never mind that the party began at 5 p.m.

The directions were vague – go to a roundabout with a certain type of statue then find the road toward the mountains, go 1 km on that and you’ll be at the house. Having spent more than an hour last week driving aimlessly around Balkh University looking for another meeting location, I was dubious as the driver headed down a deeply rutted dirt/gravel road that was loaded with what looked to be small ponds.

The driver eased cautiously into the first pool, then into the second. I grinned as the truck bumped along, reminding me of the 4-wheeling I used to do in college. I watched the muddy water roll heavily to the side of the pool, hit the mud wall and slosh back toward the truck. By the third pool, I was in the mood for the driver to gun the car and see what kind of plume of water we could throw. Fortunately my Dari wasn’t good enough for me to ask, and more fortunately, our driver has a bit more decorum.

Rolling into the third pool, our car dropped… and continued to drop. I looked quickly to the driver my eyes wide. He just smiled calmly and said “No Problem”. I was not so sure. Though no water entered the truck, it climbed up over the tires an lapped at the doors.

We made the party and as soon as I saw the freshly painted compound, complete with well-armed security, I knew I was in a whole different world. Music tumbled across the courtyard where a volleyball net had been set up. I was greeted by a nice older gentleman wearing shorts and a short sleeve shirt. Kansas was most certainly outside these gates!

The expat community here is relatively small, so several faces were familiar. New faces are always fun, but we all seem to have tired of the standard “so, who are you with – how did you end up here – do you know ________ (insert random name here)“. It is tiresome and droll.

To just be in a situation, with no expectations, no business cards at the ready. To just watch a game of volleyball – to enjoy a cold drink – here, these things are enough. ….that said, the barbecue was amazing! Chicken done to perfection, sausages (that must have been brought by the Germans – along with some handsome company), potato and pasta salads with fresh dill, fresh fruit and a peach cobbler made in true down home fashion by a girl who had grown up in Georgia (the state…not the country).

The evening ended up on the rooftop patio strewn with mattresses and pillows and an unlikely guitar player with a light touch of the blues in his low soft voice. We sat together as stranger friends in a gentle breeze under a carpet of stars with a slip of a moon watching over us. We sang. We laughed. We were. …and, that was enough!