![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLE-Z9QOUBHf0z6l1Hqkv3HKCksvH8fYpnRFAcf53SblWhqKcI1PKBt0W6lRdvkmi3NzENEntBFH-lbfKz4OJ-f9IX2QNsm5AD-M5fbKt0ydXn5E9hWsgB_b9JEEBCJeB-iZ_grw/s400/Afghanistan+in+April+%2706+089.jpg)
I had shaved my beard for the last time in Iran, with the hope that it would grow enough to help me blend in. I never try to look like the locals do. It is a matter of sincerity. I want to be perceived as what I am: a foreigner. But a beard gives you extra points in a country where bear-bearing grants respectability…
While I was afraid of the Taliban, a mouse fears me…
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