I Love Afghanistan
I Love Afghanistan In a quiet suburb of Mission Viejo, California, stood a comfortable single-family home. It belonged to an Afghan-born American named Khwaja Sediq Sangarmal and his second wife, Amina. He had left Afghanistan in the early 1990s, not long after the government he had served collapsed and the men who replaced it began asking inconvenient questions about people like him. For nearly three decades he had worked as an insurance salesman. Now retired, he spent his days collecting Social Security checks, exercising at the gym, and commenting passionately on Afghan politics from ten thousand miles away. From his bedroom window, which overlooked a swimming pool and several shade trees he had planted years earlier, he glanced at his watch. It was 9:00 a.m. Time for the gym. Standing before the mirror, he carefully shaved his white beard and examined the wrinkles gathering around his eyes. In the kitchen, Amina was preparing breakfast. He loved paratha fried in ses...