Afghan Chronicles: Day One & Two, Newark to Kabul

After an uneventful 14-hour flight, leaving Newark Thursday night around 11 p.m., I arrive at the New Delhi Airport on Friday around 8 p.m.

When I pass the throngs of people waiting for their loved ones, I am so excited to finally arrive in India, I smile at everyone and say, “Hi India!” Some laugh, probably thinking “great, another American dork.” I meet my driver Akosh, and my buzz kill is quickly extinguished. After a perfunctory welcome, he immediately tells me how his knees hurt because he has been standing for so many hours waiting for my plane. He talks about how he is supporting his entire family, parents, in-laws on a few rupees a month. We are still five minutes from the car.

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Afghan Chronicles: Day Four, Navigating a War Zone

2:30 a.m. I am jolted awake with a muscle spasm in my calve. I am off my exercise routine of daily running and weight lifting. Like a packed mule, I lug over 60 pounds of camera equipment, but the exercise is not the same. I move between cramped car to a shoot, scrambling to capture the story, and then settle back into a cramped car for an hour and then pounce again.

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