SEVENTH DELIVERY

They went out of the bed a little while later, after a very brief moment of kisses and caresses more tender than exciting. Maru went direct to the shower, using that at those hours there waswater, and Macri to the room where he had his bunk and his luggage. In the corridor he crossed Joe, that said to him good morning smiling animated and invited Macri to have breakfast with him. So, he just had time to come to his bed roll and to change his dirty t-shirt by other clean in the same black color, and went away to look for the American.
The house had been constructed, evidently, in the seventies. They had painted the room in pale green and had an enormous window by where already, so early, much sun entered. In the ground, llike in the rest of rooms, was moquette. The furniture also seemed to be from the seventies. Seated around the table and before individual bowls of coffee they were the clown and a red-haired and bearded boy in animated chat. Intellectual Chat, of course. Joe called him from the kitchen.
It was the kitchen where they had kissed the previous night for the first time. Joe was warming a teapot with water. He explained him that the electricity of the network did not have force enough to make the microwaves work. And indeed the apparatus was connected to a small stuck generator close to the window. Macri did not understand what relation could have the microwaves with the breakfast. After all coffee pots do not need electricity. In any case, Joe filled a water bowl and passed him the boat of nestcafé and the one of the sugar, neither too clean, by the way. Then arrived Maru with the hair still wet . She had put in a white shirt, aldo a man's one. He filled another cup.
- You only have man's shirts?
-In fact, I do have many frinds. - She said that, smiled, yawed the eye to him and gave him a fast kiss him in the lips. Macri did not have time to react and remained paralyzed but happy.
- She is ma petite - Joe, smiling, seemed proud of the girl. He gave a friendly tap in the shoulder to Macri and went to the hall with the coffee. They two remained both in the kitchen.
- Well, what plans do we have for today?
- I must go just a little while to the MEDERA office, and it would be also good you coming for to gather your airplane ticket to Herat. I do not know what will they have managed, for you but tomorrow I must go to visit a project there, it would be brilliant if we can go together, no?
- Tomorrow? I thought that I was going to be able to fly today. I asked to Gérard to organize everything as soon as possible. Also I do not go to Herat but to Chagcharag, that is where the famous Boris Paton said to me that he is destined.
- I do not know anything of that. Those things are just in charge of Gérard but I can take you to the office if you want. Later, if you do not go away today, we can make a tour in Kabul. I can show you a bit the city.
- Hmmm, war tourism? It sounds lovely… let's see what Gérard tells me.
Maru telephoned the driver of her organization and shortly later the sound of a horn indicated that her vehicle had arrived. A white Corolla. Maru covered again her hair with a handkerchief. This time one printed of flowers. Macri thought that it was a pity to cover those black curls and that under the handkerchief it was never going to dry. But he shutted up and raised the car.
In the door of the "peace hostel" they crossed a woman with burka. His first woman with burka.
Then Macri realised he was just half a day in Afghanistan. During that time he had taken a walk by Kabul at night, he had been kidnapped, he had slept with a girl and perhaps until had fallen in love. Everything too quickly.
After that one, many other women with burka came. Kabul, by day already, turned out to be a big city, modern, animated and more prosperous than what Macri expected.
They were at the beginning of April, but it was still cold. Kabul occupies an extensive valley, all surrounded by mountains. There was yet snow in mountains and although the dusty landscape transmitted heat sensation it was more confortable to stay in the heat of the vehicle.
After few streets they were suddenly surrounded by the chaotic traffic of the city. Maru commented to him that there only existed two traffic lights in all the city. It was the typical detail always told to the new arrived visitors. In some crossroads there were traffic policemen with surgical masks, Macri supposed it was because of the pollution. They all were carrying assault rifles and they were not too effective in their task of regulating the circulation. It is not possible to say that vehicles really were following any track. They tried to circulate avoiding the vehicles coming fast from the front and the pile of pedestrians rambling in the midle of the street. The majority were men, but he also saw some women. More as they were approacheting to the center.
Many of the women were without burka. The majority with a chador or a simple handkerchief. Even some with jeans. Macri even saw some young girls walking close to boys of their age, something incredible in such a fundamentalist country. That was right close to a commercial center. A hug mass in design, with enormous tinted glass windows, that absolutely shocked in the midle of the brown houses of the city.
They crossed some buses. They were old, of dark silver and blue color. People overflowed of them like in an African train while they advanced slowly in a cloud of dust .
They arrived at destination: a high building in the downtown. Impersonal, in an unequivocally Soviet style, as if they had never finished building it. The MEDERA office was in the second floor. They had to pass the already traditional control in the door of the building, and one more when entering the space of the NGO.
Inside there were several tables. People seated in front of their respective computers ignored Macri, that just followed Maru to another room where they entered after knocking discreetly to the door.
- This it is Macri. And this is Gerald.
- Welcome, how was the trip?
- It seems to me that it was one week ago when I came here.
They spoke a little  more of trivialities. Later Gérard explained him the complicated way the had to follow for to reserve a place in the United Nations flight to Herat and that they had only been able to find one him for the following day. Also he explained to him that personal of MEDERA in Herat was going to help him to get a secure transport until Chagchadar and the permissions for to enter the military base. Gérard was the typical high French, of aquiline nose and hair falling over his forehead. It seemed to go soon with haste he dispatched and them soon. Before entering Maru had noticed to him that nobody had why to find out their private life, so they two did not show too much confidence to each other in the office. The French girl had to finish some burocratic papers and to get some information and proposed him to wait a bit until she finish, in orther to make a walk together.
Macri made a tour around the office. It was boring, so lon as nobody spoke to him, so he left to take a walk over the plant of the building. There was some completely empty room, in works and just alongside other offices, of which it seemed to be a bank. There was also a quarter with large windows and guards inside playing backgammon. He remained watching the game a while and as Maru still didnt show up, he decided to go by himself to the street. Just in front of the building there were several  old books shops extended in the sidewalk. He stopped to watch it. The majority were very spent booklets, with the titles in Arab characters. He paid attention to one that was in English titleholder “learning English without professor”. The phrase included two misspelling. Then a middle-aged gentleman with beard and turban to rays approached to him. He hold his shoulder and Macri was frightened; all the scenes of the previous night came suddenly to his mind and he almost started running to leave searching for the guards, when the man spoke to him in a very deficient English:
- Hello. How old are you? My name is Mahmet.
- Hello. - Macri still distrusted, although the man had loosen his shoulder.
- Me student of English. I like language very much but little speak.
- Oh, You speak it pretty well, really!
- Tank you. Me do not speak good. Kabul not many English to practice.
- I couldnt notice it, Sir.
- Pleasure to meet to him. Much taste - the man smiled showing a set of black teeth and he strongly shook him the hand as a goodbye. He left Macri happy, feeling a little stupid to have frightened without sense because of a good man. So he cheered up the street to walk few meters between the crowd.
It was already fresher and the wind brought dust clouds. He didnt realised until now the hug amount of pole that flew over Kabul. Whatsoever the street was colapsed of people. It remembered to a dense flock of a Western. Between the mass bicycles, todoterrenos and carricoches of colors founded their way. Macri watched everything enchanted.
Suddenly it passed a high speed military convoy without stopping in spite of the multitude. They were Hummer on which they showed American soldiers and guns. People left the street runnin . They separated with haste openning for the convoy a corridor as by magic art, and without there was no upsetting that to be sorry. They were hardly five vehicles and after them the multitude occupied back the roads as if nothing had happened.
Suddenly the city seemed to him much less threatening. he felt like comfortable with the originating laughter oft tea houses and music in high volume coming fromt almost all the tiny stores that jammed some buildings, all with the same hung blue signboard in the door. Here and there some passer-by had sat down in the ground, supported in the wall to enjoy the sun in such a fresh day. The air smelled of meat and kebab.
As always it happened lately, from he was removed from his welfare by the far voice of Maru calling him and signaling to him exaggeratly. He approached obedient, and even smiling.
-Where you have been?
- I went to make a tour.
-And how is everything? What do you think about my city?
- Dense.
- Nice definition. Come here, we go, we have the rest of the day free .