Article: 288736 of talk.bizarre From: Surviving <firstname.lastname@example.org> Newsgroups: talk.bizarre Subject: Re: My Grandma's Warped view of Islam (EDIFTSDWR) Date: Tue, 03 Dec 1996 08:21:25 +0930 Organization: Life Lines: 103 Message-ID: <32A35D6D.167EB0E7@dme.nt.gov.au> References: <email@example.com> <firstname.lastname@example.org> X-Mailer: Mozilla 3.0Gold (X11; I; SunOS 4.1.4 sun4c) > Mr X: "Poof! You're a Muslim!" > > Kid: "Salaam Alachem. Thanks Mr X!" ACTUALLY. I was in Afghanistan yeh ? (people nod) (nod you fucks) (NOD!) So anyhow, I was in Afghanistan, and I'd decided to go for a little walk in the deserty city of Khandahar (har har) to see the sites and all that, and lo' there was a storm. No, actually there was no storm, but I did decide to go visit the forty steps that led to the cave of mohammad - soon to be renamed the cave where Rohan got stoned with Afghani bandits. So anyhow, after discussing internal politics and the state of the communist empire with a watermelon seller, I went into a little store that sold flat batteries (things are tough in Afghanistan). I walked in and was immediately confronted with the words: "STOP! your paragraphs are all too similar! You're straining my eyes you pig". So I decided to amble a little around the store, looking at all his wares. The ground was concrete and grey, the store owner was a tall afghani guy (turban, shelwar qamiz, beard..) and his friend was a fat afghani guy (turban shelwar qamiz, beard..), and the store was full of flat batteries, teatowels, shelwar qamiz's and fake beards. He smiled as my paragraph outlined itself, and motioned me to the counter. "3 please" I asked, stupidly. And then I started telling the truth. "Asallam Alekum!" "Wa alakum sallaaam" "Do you know where the forty steps are ?", I asked, glad I changed my mind about the joke with the salami. "eh ?" Said mr tall bearded afghani man. After about 20 minutes, several diagrams, a few re-invented arabic languages, 12 cups of tea, and me buying 5 fake beards for the family I worked out that the forty steps where off that way somewhere. So I went that way... nervously. Nervous is a good word to describe the usual reaction to walking down a street in Afghanistan. There are several reasons. 1. Mines 2. Big Afghani rebels with even bigger guns 3. Mines. 4. Did I mention the mines ? In case you missed a point there, I'd like to explain that in many of the Afghani cities, the russians have decided that mining whole areas of surburbia was the best way to let the Afghani's know that the russian army was out for a good time. (Shall I tell you about when we met the Taliban headman and he had a couple of Russians in his back room ? Ok, another time) Back to the big bang mines. Unfortuantely these mines are still quite prevalent. (and spell it too ??) Fortunately, the Australian demining centre ran by (strangely enough) a big bearded Australian man called bob, are on the case, going around blowing up all sorts of bad things. I could tell you about a time when we went with them to blow up missles (but that might scare the kiddies). BOOM! See ? Anyhow, back to the story. Ok, so I continued on down the dusty patch to the middle of nowhere when I realised I was quite lost. Beep beep! I spun around to see a wildly smiling Afghani man in a three wheeled vehical taxi type thing. I considered: 1. Jumping on the nearest mine 2. Running away franitcally yelling 'the russians are coming' 'the russians are coming'. 3. taking my chance with the taxi driver. In that order. 12 minutes later I was in the car. "Er.. sir, we should really work out a price". "No no no! We work it out later, you are my guest!" My on-line travel worry brain harrassed me. "no rohan, no.. this is bad... baaaaad". - end of part 1 - -- Q. Men from mars, dogs in space, what's the world coming to !? A. Someone hand me a banana.