------- A few days ago I was invited by a friend of mine to have dinner together in one of the foreign Restaurants in Kabul. He met a German and an Afghan-German friend there. We installed ourselves at the table. After a while, my friend ordered two beers but unexpectedly a muscle-man appeared in front of us in a harsh tone and asked me for my passport. I told him that I am Afghan, precisely the land he is now in. He started talking strictly to me: You are not allowed to drink alcohol in this restaurant! Why? I asked him Because we are not allowed to serve you alcoholic drinks. On my left hand, the Afghan-German, a doctor, had also been asked for his passport. He was angry about it. For a few seconds he quarreled with his German counterpart. As I understood it he was telling him: 'this is my land, this is my land, no one has the right to ask me as an Afghan how I should behave about this.' They finished quarreling, but I got tense. How is it possible that in your own count...
sporadic thoughts and reflections of an anthropology phd student