It’s snowing in Shamorgar, a little Pakistani mountain village near the border to Afghanistan. Ramadan is over. The harvest is in. Corn, onions, potatoes, and tomatoes are being stored for the winter.
It’s calm in the village. A blacksmith is repairing hooks, rakes, shovels, and plows. The owner of the general store opens for business. The muezzin calls to prayer. His voice echoes across the vast landscape.
The Pashtuns are big, proud, and strong. The men speak softly, are seldom loud. They themselves say they can perform the most grueling tasks and are not afraid because they have been chosen by Allah to do so....
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