What would you do with an angry mob on your doorstep?

That is one of those questions that no one can answer until they find themselves in that exact situation. Turns out I would go through denile, then start pacing, then grab the kitten and the shortwave radio and lock myself in my bedroom. After checking my room for possible hiding places / escape routes and finding none, I would strap my passport and money to me, crawl into bed, assume small ball form position and try to fall asleep. I am not sure sleeping is the recommended approach, but turns out it is my extreme stress coping mechanism and when you are not sure what to do, then sleeping at least passes the time better than being awake and imagining the worst.

So Kabul erupted into riots on Monday. I had got back from a trip to a province called Ghor that morning (amazing experience, which I will write about) and was at home working before my 2pm meeting when my colleague called and said "there has been an incident, involving the US army and Afghans, probably best you don't come to the office today". Now my colleagues are lovely, but they like to take time off whenever possible, so my first reaction was that they were making this all sound more serious so I wouldn't come to the office and they could have another boss-free day. But then my 2pm meeting was cancelled 'because of security issues' and then I started to hear what sounded like gun shots. Gun shot sounds are not something that my ears are familiar with. At first they sounded like people nailing metal objects in to stone (Kabul has an insane rate of construction, so this is a feasible alternative option for the banging sound) then I figured it must be noises from a stone quarry, then I looked out of my back window and saw men dressed in black waving guns in the air and runnning about the fort on the hill behind where I live and I realised that the sound was gun shots.

Still though my brain was not registering panic, but was justifying and thinking through and making everything ok.

Then the gun shots got louder and the sounds of angry crowds got closer, until I knew they were outside my high walls and could smell smoke in the air. What do you do? What can you do? I was home alone (except for the guard and his wife) and I didn't have a clue. The phones were down, Brian my housemate was stuck at work, the guys in the office had called me earlier to say they were trapped in the office as a mob looted the oxfam offices opposite (luckily we don't have a sign outside our office, or we would have been attacked too). So I just sort of paced. Meanwhile, the guard was standing in the driveway, poised for action but he was one small, mild mannered man and by the sounds of the baying crowds, there was at least 50 armed people outside. The guard's wife was looking scared and trying to get me to hide in her house. The guard was not so sure about this option and kept repeating sentences in Dari, which I told myself were "it's ok, they won't try to come in here, go back inside, it's ok"...but my Dari has still not progressed past thank you.

So I grabbed the cat and the BBC and locked myself in my room until they passed. It took about an hour for the constant gunfire to reduce to occassional shots and then after about 2 hours I could hear the birds chirping in the garden again.

It's moments like these when you wonder why you're here, why I'm here. The international community is not liked or welcomed, not by the Afghan on the street and certainly not by the dissident factions. The international community themselves are cynical and tired and many of the people I speak to have forgotten why they are here and don't know what they are changing, if anything. This is not Nepal, it is a whole different, much scarier ball game, where the slightest scratch on the surface leads to an eruption of hatred and violence. They say now that these riots were planned a while back, that the organisors were just waiting for the spark, any spark. What you also realise is that the police can't help really. They have had crowd control training, but they don't have tear gas or water canons, the choice is shoot or run and realistically, there loyalties don't lie with the internationals. They are Afghans after all and the faces in the crowds are often family members. They won't shoot, they can't always run, I heard some were taking off their uniforms and joining the mob. And where were ISAF? There are so many rules and regulations about when the security forces can and can't use force, when they can and can't leave their safe compound...so much ridulous talk of protocol and presidence and procedure. But it's calm now and I am fine. A little spooked, a little less fond of Kabul, a little more eager to return to Kathmandu. Supposedly this is the worst rioting and anti-american display of violence since the fall of the Taliban. I'd like to say it was cool to witness it, to be a part of it. But it wasn't.

ps: My office has put in many emergency security procedures now including giving me a satellite phone and ensuring I always have a driver and a chaperone and I'm moving in with a lovely girl tonight, so the me, alone in a house surrounded by an angry mob situation shouldn't happen again. Plus only 4 weeks and counting!