Coming to Afghanistan has probably been the biggest transition I've ever experienced. This isn't because Afghanistan itself is so mind-blowingly different to anywhere else I've been (although life here is certainly unique). In many ways, it is very much like Cairo, Tashkent, Delhi or Kathmandu. It's instead because I was previously based in Tokyo for seven years.
I remember going to Tokyo in 2003 after living in a Himalayan village in Nepal and feeling pretty dazed and appalled by the crowded trains, lack of greenery and coldness of the immense concrete-ness. But that doesn't compare to now - there is something about going somewhere after Japan, which makes that change all the more severe. Japan sucks you in and makes you comfortable. Very, very comfortable. You begin to think it's normal to walk around with 500 dollars in cash. Tokyo makes you think it is right that your train driver apologises for being 30 seconds late into the station. But it's not normal; Japan is abnormally safe, clean, efficient and, well, comfortable.
Kabul and Tokyo may both be in Asia but I don't think you could get a bigger contrast than these two cities. In almost every way. The culture, religions, diet (fish/meat), dress (both styles and amount of), topography and climate (green, humid, island vs. brown, dry, inland) are just a few examples of the dichotomy. I can now understand why the Japanese Ministry of Foreign Affairs classifies Afghanistan as the Middle East and not Asia.
The top three contrasts, though, are the the security/safety, the level of development and the amount of choice.
Japan is without a doubt the safest country I've been fortunate enough to live in, where people (many of their military included) have little or no sense of danger. Japanese ladies go into a cafe and nonchalantly leave their Louis Vuitton handbags on their chosen chairs, to reserve them before going off to the counter to order. Afghanistan, on the other hand, is definitely the most dangerous, with everything affected by the security situation and danger being ever-present; always there in one's mind. Interestingly, one doesn't really think about crime so much here, because instead the threat to life is (unsurprisingly) so much more the key concern. In Lagos, where my family lived from 1993-97, there was no walking on the streets and we had massive razor-wired walls surrounding our guarded and alarm-filled home. But that was because of the threat of robbery. Here in Kabul, the reason for not walking on the street or for having guards is because you may be killed. Japan is surely a utopia for a policeman and soldier but Afghanistan must be the worst place to embark on such a career.
The development aspect is so incomparable that I don't know where to start. Tokyo trains run every 3 minutes, to the second; in Afghanistan I'm not aware if there are trains. In Tokyo I paid for everything by swiping my 'Pasmo' card on screens, whether in the station, the grocery store or the bus - my life was a constant card-swiping exercise. Here in Kabul I have difficulty spending money, as I have only been to about three shops in a month. I live in one of the top central neighbourhoods of Kabul but the road outside is completely unpaved and potholed. I feel I have moved from 2050 to 1850 (except the mobile phones of course!).
In terms of choice, the differences are again immense. In Tokyo, when you want a cup of coffee you have about five options at any one time or place (not to mention the headache of choosing which out of the variety of coffees you want, once inside). In Kabul I pre-select one cafe (out of about three I know), phone the office for a car (which could turn up in anything between 10 to 45 minutes), get driven to the place and then probably find out there is no milk for that treasured cafe latte. Feeling peckish at 3 am in Shibuya? A kombini (convenience store) will be within 50 metres, and true to its name, it will sell you anything you could possibly wish to consume - hot or cold, wrapped in excessive layers of plastic and paper. Here my room is well stocked with biscuits or fruit because I know that a) there is no shop around b) even if there was, it would not be open and c) even if it was open, I would not even dream of walking there!
Having lived in various countries since I was 0 and having spent a childhood constantly switching between schools and homes, I've always thought I could adapt to anything, anywhere, in an instant. Tokyo to Kabul, though, took a good few weeks before I could finally sit back and relax.
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