EDITOR'S NOTE: Bill Wright is a self-employed businessman turned photographer. He travels exotic locales and captures in photographs the lives, emotions and cultures of people for his love of art, and because it helps him make better business decisions. He was recently named one of Abilene's 10 Most Influential by the Abilene Reporter-News. Following is an e-mailed journal entry to family and friends about his newest adventure - a trip to Kabul, Afghanistan.

Sarah and Faideen arrived on schedule to pick me up and deliver me to the Kabul hospital for some help with my back. The pain had not diminished but was being controlled somewhat by the Advil I fortunately had in my kit. I took the back seat of the van so that I could stretch out my legs and we started off through the heavy morning traffic.

The hospital was located some distance from the hotel so I had a chance to seen more of the city as we traveled along. I opened the window and shot a few pictures of the roadside vendors as we stopped periodically for traffic.

The main streets in Kabul are paved but much of the city is not. There is a persistent dusty atmosphere that casts every view in a light tan wash. Everyone seems to have a dry mouth. Business is being done everywhere. It seems the Afghans are a nation of merchants from my view from the back of the van. Much of their goods are displayed on the sidewalk which results in a profusion of color where the goods are fabrics and plastic, Auto parts and equipment of various types cast a more somber values of black and gray.

The traffic cleared somewhat as we neared the hospital and we pulled up in front of the security gate. I was dismayed at the large crowd of perhaps 300 or more people waiting to enter.

There was a lot of pushing and shoving and Fardeen parked the car and while I waited, he walked to the gate and talked with the guard. Soon I saw him wave and Sarah and I made our way through the crowd and slipped inside. As I turned to see the gate close behind me, I saw it slammed on the arm of a man desperately trying to enter. I don’t think I made any friends among the crowd.

Walking to the main building, Sarah whispered, “ I hate the class system that gives us the ability to move ahead of all these people.” I felt bad about it also but with my back hurting, I felt that maybe is was a legitimate triage that allowed me to go ahead. At least I didn’t feel guilty enough to go back to the end of the line.

I quickly made my mind up that I would not trade my comfortable bed at the Serena Hotel for anything the hospital had to offer. The pain couldn’t be bad enough to lay my head down in this primitive facility. People were laying on the floor, I couldn’t determine if there was any air conditioning and there was a discouraging smell of sickness in the air.

I positioned myself at the end of a line before the entrance window while Fardeen disappeared down the hall. Soon he returned and guided me down a corridor and up a flight of stairs to the treatment rooms. Dr. Green appeared and greeted me and said that he would see that I was seen immediately. I was taken to a treatment room that was remarkable clean and organized and soon another doctor arrived who was a volunteer from the mid-western U.S. He was an osteopath by training and a member of a evangelical Christian congregation in his home town. He told me that he volunteered each year in this hospital. He had my deepest respect for attempting to bring modern medicine to the people of Kabul.

As I lay on the table he poked my back and told me he thought that the problem would eventually go away with anti-inflamatory drugs and he said that they had recently received some back braces that he also thought would help. He gently gave my back an “adjustment” crack or two and went to get the brace. The door was open to the examining room and I could see and hear the traffic outside in the hall. People were coming and going and all seemed to be in order---a contradictory space in all the outside chaos.

Soon, he returned with the brace and gave me some stronger pain medication that I could use on the airplane if things got too bad. I was grateful and walked out to meet Sarah and Fardeen. We paid our bill of $80 and left. The crowd had cleared at the gate, whether they were all admitted or not, I do not know but I wished them luck as I left.

I continued taking photographs through the window of the van on my way back to the hotel and hopped the trip tomorrow would be easy. I was already feeling more confident about the trip home.

Next: Dubai and home