The only color breaking the neutral landscape falling away below me is a bright band of blue around the small engine hanging from the wing outside my window. Subtle and obvious, gentle and cruel. Afghanistan is a land of contradictions.

The ground slips silently away as U2 fills the void with sound and passion. Just past the runway a large plot of land riddled with giant craters reminds me of where I am. The plane banks slowly to the right as it steadily climbs. I am forced lower into my seat as we climb out of the Kabul bowl only to be enveloped by a white oblivion.

The clouds thin momentarily and I catch a glimpse of the Hindu Kush. Their fierce dark faces peer through the snow on the steep slopes as we slip past. Just for a moment then the cloud curtain is drawn again over the land below as if to hide it from my prying eyes – as modest as it is bold.

Nearing Mazar-i-Sharif we drop down out of the clouds. Irregular rivulets of muddy water trail lazily down from the mountains and fade into the wide valley at varying lengths. Closer to the city it seems that wide muddy rivers crisscross the land, upon closer inspection they are dirt roads.

Herds and flocks dot the landscape in between settlements made from mud bricks – their roofs a thick blanket of straw and mud. You can easily imagine the remnants of human dwellings just melting back into the earth after a few good downpours. But, there they stand against time against odds.

We land, turn and taxi back down the runway to the terminal. As we approach the terminal a man dressed in a suit and tie motions for the plane to taxi toward him. The tension at the airport is noticeably different from Kabul. Though armed guards still mill about, they are not on high alert. We disembark down stairs rolled up to the plane and trail along after one another in a long ragged – past the terminal, past the military heilocopters to a side gate where a guard’s shack is standing.

Not knowing if our luggage will be brought out to us, we mill about until we see the luggage being wheeled down the tarmack towards us. We claim the luggage inside the gate and exit again into the puddle strewn parking lot. Several calls later we find that our drivers have been detained just outside the airport so, rolling up out pant legs we drag our bags over to a waiting cart, load it to capacity and once again for a ragged line as we make our way out to the waiting cars.

Despite the wind and the cold, the man and boy pushing the cart splash happily through the water as they encounter it. Exiting the first security gate we spot a driver holding a welcome sign. The best part is that the sign has been printed, in color….and laminated. Our staff is on the ball!