Road to nowhere...

The Darulaman Palace, a European style Palace built by Amanullah Khan in the 1920s is located a mile away from my house. It has been heavily damaged throughout the century. In the 1960s it was heavily gutted by fire, then housed the Kabul Museum (now across the road), followed by the Defense Ministry and was finally reduced to its dilapidated state by heavy shelling of competing Mujahideen factions during the civil war. 

Last weekend, my friends and I made a visit to the Palace, I was under the impression, it would be deserted, due to its pathetic state, however, I was wrong. Not only did the Palace retain its imposing grandeur despite the rubble strewn floors, but it was hustling and bustling with Kuchis who made it their home. 


Kuchis are nomads. For more than 3000 years, the kuchis were pre-eminent transporters and traders and served as a mobile bridge between Afghanistan and south asia. They are self- sufficient people. Their prized possessions include their family, their goats, sheep, camels, donkeys and tents. No baggage, few attachments, free spirits traveling light. I had found some kindred souls!

The Kuchis staying in the Darulaman Palace migrated from Pakistan about three months ago. UNICEF has pitched tents in the Palace courtyard and runs a school for the displaced kuchi children in the day. At first, they were very territorial and refused to let us "curious" tourists in their space. We got talking to them in Dari and Urdu and they gradually let their guard down and offered to have the women come into the palace. So of we went (Sarah-jean, Sara and I) Lucky girls!

I asked one of them if they were happy or sad to be living in a palace. It was ironic to say the least. He said ' We're not materialistc, we don't care about things, we're nomadic people. We migrate from one place to another. Here, we are like birds in a cage.

They were very amused with our cameras and asked us to take photographs of them. We promised to print photos and bring back hard copies in a couple days or so.

Fredrik Barth, a Norwegian anthropologist said once, The wealthiest and the poorest kuchi  (when pushed to extremes of the spectrum ) will tend to settle down and give up his nomadic migratory cycle.  
 “A pastoral family needs a minimum herd size in order to survive. A wealthy nomad, might experience diminishing returns as his herd size increases and may decide to diversify into investing in land and/or into trade. The poorest lose their herds in times of crisis, going into debt and then selling-off animals to pay off the debt.

Waiting in line for drinking water

Years of war and displacement pushed these Kuchis to settle in one place, not out of free will. Being "nomadic" is being stable for Kuchis. 


In contrast, I have always had the luxury of free will. Is it a choice or fate or destiny ? I am not sure. Maybe a mix of everything.


Moving to Afghanistan presented an extreme situation for me on my life continuum that grounded me from within resulting in a deep appreciation for stability. My spirit was never curtailed, always nurtured by my parents, enabling it to experience so much. Today, I realize its value and understand that stability doesn’t have to be at the cost of clipping ones wings.  

Even though my free spirit identified with theirs, I walked away steady... with clarity and comfort on my path of life – however, the kuchis were left standing there trapped in their palace, like birds in a cage; no hope, a few promised photographs and lost on a road to nowhere…