"It's not green."

I arrived in Kabul four days later than initially expected. Actually four months later if I want to go back to the delay involved in shoulder rehabilitation. But it was the actual day of my departure that was the most frustrating.

I departed Pittsburgh's airport at an ungodly early hour in the morning and then flew to DC, where my flight was delayed. I had to go onwards to JFK in NYC and the delay got me in just in time for a half hour to transfer terminals, pass security and get to my Emirates flight to Dubai. For the record, I did not make this booking--a travel agent for the UN did and I suppose they thought it would be more convenient to fly my twice inside the US before getting to my international flight--who knows.

From there I would take the UNHAS (United Nations Humanitarian Air Service) flight onwards to Kabul. It only operated on specific days. At that time, I thought it was only these special servers granted access to Afghanistan--but now I know there are commercial airlines such as Safi and Ariana--more often referred to as Scariana and was the airline used by Bin Laden to transport loads of heroine and weapons around the country prior to WTC attacks in the US on September 11, 2001.

I arrived in JFK with just the time to spare. In DC, the airline ticket counter had been kind enough to issue me a Emirates boarding card so I would not have to re-check in at the Emirates counter and, theoretically, save me some time. All looked good, right? Wrong.

JFK is crap at signage. Myself and three other passengers thought the air rail would take us directly from Terminal 3 to Terminal 4....instead it took us closer to Manhatten and shaved 15 minutes off the time we so needed to get to our gate, where our flight was in the process of boarding. When we finally hopped trains ran to the security gate and breathlessly handed our cards to the TSA agent in front of the security line, he looked down and handed our cards back saying, 'its' not green'. I was confused and gave the card back. He did not even look this time and again said, 'it's not green'. I then asked what the heck he was referring to. He told me that if it was a real Emirates boarding pass, then there would be a green strip at the top of the card. Instead, mine was white--cardboard, information, name, all the details, but lacking that green strip--he of course did not explain this to me. Only repeated the same three words over and over looking over my head. I was desperate as I could literally see my flight boarding behind him.

I and the others then made a mad dash up a flight of stairs to the counter to get our magic green tickets. The agent made a radio call, then apologetically told us that the gate had closed and we would have to re-book our flight. I was in shock. All I could remember was the 'it's not green man' was missing a front tooth--I wanted to go down and knock them all out.

I was then given two options--take the next flight and wait a two days in Dubai before the next UNHAS flight departed, or fly back to Pittsburgh and take a later flight. I opted for the latter and was re-booked for a direct Pittsburgh-JFK flight. Soooo much better. I even wore green in anticipation of the toothless security guard, but alas he was not there. I can only hope he was fired.

14 hours later I was in Dubai transiting to the UNHAS counter. Honestly, I kind of thought I would be on one of those planes equipped to drop food from the sky. It was not. Rather, I was checked into the flight and sat nervously with a group of UN diplomats flying to Kabul. I surveyed the crowd. Everyone seemed mellow and not really shaken given we were about to fly to a war zone. One in particular stood out as his face and neck were completely tattooed. I later found out he was a Kiwi who worked counter narcotics in Helmand and despite his intimidating appearance, was one of the kindest individuals you'd ever meet. That day I stood clear of him.

After waiting for quite some time, we were herded onto a bus and then took a long ride out to what seemed like another airport where we climbed the stairs of our plane with a big UN painted on the side. Not surprising, the flight was empty. I believe there were about 15 of us. Travel caught up with me and I crashed on the flight to wake up to a view of the Hindu Kush out the window.

Arrival in Kabul. Helicopters were all over the runway. Do I put my veil on or not? I non-nonchalantly tried to observe the three other females on the flight to follow their lead--only one threw a loose veil over her head, so I did the same. I still felt awkward as I stepped out and breathed the air of Kabul--I have gotten into the habit of noticing the smell of a place upon arrival. In Kabul I smelt dirt.

I went through customs and then out to the greeting area, where I was told someone would greet me. Sayed Hamed, an Afghan national and assistant to my Romanian UNV manager, had a sign with my name on it. He quickly greeted me and courteously took my one bag I had brought with me to help me carry it. He then slipped a cigarette into his mouth. Before lighting it, he cocked his head to the side and asked, 'So have you been to Afghanistan before?'. I told him no, first time, and he then lit his cigarette, exhaling and smiling. "Welcome to Afghanistan." Sayed was the first of so many others to repeat that phrase during my time in the Hindu Kush.