Fayzabad: My Drumkit Got High Pressure and I Got Lost

yo, so fayzabad happened. this place is wild, man. like, i showed up with my snare and sticks ready to bang out some beats for this indie band, and the first thing i notice is the air feels thinner than my wallet after rent. checked the weather - it's 17.61 degrees floating around, feels like 16.76 if you're standing in the shade. perfect temperature for a hoodie but *not for sweating behind a drumkit. humidity’s 51%, so my cymbals aren't rusting yet, but the ground pressure's 935 hpa? that’s lower than my morale at 3 am tech support calls.

the locals here move like they’re underwater or something. real chill vibe, though. if you get bored staring at the mountains (which you will), kabul’s a 6-hour drive north. but i wouldn’t risk it unless you’ve got a death wish and a full tank. heard the highway’s basically a goat track with potholes that could swallow a small car.

someone told me the owner of the teahouse spikes his chai with hashish. then another guy said no, it’s just bad water. so either you’re getting high or dysentery. your call.

i overheard two dreadlocked germans arguing whether the local bread was sourdough or ‘just old’. it tasted like regret, so maybe both?

played at this venue called the echo chamber - basically a warehouse with concrete walls and a PA older than my dad. sounded amazing though. the sound guy patched my kick drum with duct tape and prayers, worked like a charm. post-gig, we hit up mountain shadow cafe for kebabs. the meat was tender, but the owner kept eyeing my drumsticks like he wanted to trade for a kidney. sketchy.

if you’re ever here, avoid the guesthouse near the bazaar unless you enjoy sharing a bathroom with 20 dudes and a suspiciously aggressive rooster. tripadvisor says it’s ‘charming’ - they clearly never met that rooster.

i heard from a sketchy dude at the bus stop that the old fort* is haunted by a drummer who lost a snare battle. probably nonsense, but i left my cowbell there just in case. check out yelp’s take on the food if you’re hungry enough to risk it.

peace out, gonna nap now. my hi-hats still ringing from this low-pressure madness.

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