Susan Ormiston

The manager jerks open the door of another van, orders a passenger out and pushes me into the front seat. Stuffed in the back are five Afghan men who are no doubt wondering about this blond intruder, a woman no less.
It’s a race down the hill for two kilometres. People seem to emerge from behind giant boulders to chase the convoy, running alongside as we head for the nearby village.
I’m hanging out the window snapping pictures and villagers are snapping as many in return.

Susan Ormiston, in Afghanistan

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