It wasn't exactly how I had planned to arrive in Algiers. I had envisioned a much more elegant, carefree entrance, where I would gather my luggage and manage the airport crowds feeling relaxed and ready for three days of vacation.
Revisiting my breakfast on my two-hour flight from Rabat, being told by the flight attendants that I was the first person ever to cry on their flight, and then suffering through a 45-minute line at immigration with my head spinning and a slight fear that they wouldn't let me in... well, that was how it really happened.
A NAME WITHHELD, A PASSION SHARED
© David Snyder/Creative Associates International.
I met a young woman in Kabul whose story I want to share. We were in the lobby of the prestigious private high school where she taught. It was a hot afternoon in September, yet she wore a floor-length black dress and light blue headscarf wrapped closely around her face, not even a strand of hair peeking through.
Read moreA NORMAL DAY IN KABUL
© David Snyder/Creative Associates International.
When I think about my time in Kabul, Mursal and her friends come to mind. The images that stick in my head are not ones of violence, poverty or devastation. They are of routine activities and everyday dreams.
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