Things to Do in Afghanistan in March

The six lakes at Band-e-Amir sit at roughly 2,900 m (9,500 ft) in Bamyan province. Their water is an almost aggressive shade of turquoise from the natural travertine dams. In March the surrounding plateau is still brown and snow-patched. The color contrast is sharper than it gets in summer when scrub green competes. The air at this altitude in March bites. Expect 4-6°C (39-43°F) midday. The wind off the water carries a mineral-cold smell that is nothing like any lake you have stood beside before. The lakes were designated Afghanistan's first national park. On a clear March morning with the Hindu Kush range behind them, you understand why. Access requires a full-day drive from Bamyan town over unpaved roads. Travel only with a reputable local guide and confirmed security arrangements.

The restored Murad Khani quarter in Kabul's old city is a compressed lesson in what Afghan urbanism looked like before decades of conflict flattened most of it. Timber-framed merchant houses with carved wooden balconies line alleys narrow enough to touch both walls. The Turquoise Mountain Foundation's restoration work has brought several of them back from ruin. In March the morning light slants low through these alleys. It catches wood-shaving dust from the carpentry workshops where craftsmen turn walnut and mulberry into the geometric lattice screens called jali. The smell is cedar shavings and fresh naan from the tandoor ovens that fire up before dawn. Combine this with the Kabul Museum on Darulaman Road. Its surviving Gandharan Buddhist sculptures and Bagram ivories are among the most notable objects in Central Asia. The damage from looting and conflict is visible and sobering, which is part of why it matters.

The Panjshir Valley north of Kabul runs roughly 115 km (71 miles) into the Hindu Kush, and March catches it in the first stages of snowmelt. The river runs fast and milky-green with glacial sediment. The lower slopes show the first stubble of new grass. The upper peaks are still fully white. Day treks from the valley floor at around 2,000 m (6,560 ft) up to the shepherds' summer pastures at 3,200 m (10,500 ft) are possible in good weather. Above 2,800 m (9,190 ft) you will likely hit snow. The exertion at altitude and the silence, broken only by meltwater and the occasional call of a chukar partridge, make this a different trekking experience from anything in Nepal or Patagonia. You are not on a trail system. You are walking through inhabited landscape where villagers are surprised to see you.

Herat in March has a softness that the summer dust obliterates. The city sits at 920 m (3,020 ft) in western Afghanistan, lower and milder than Kabul. March afternoons might reach 15°C (59°F) with a dry breeze off the Iranian plateau. The Citadel of Alexander, Qala Iktyaruddin, is a massive mudbrick fortress that has been rebuilt and destroyed so many times across 2,300 years that its walls are essentially a geological cross-section of Afghan history. The real destination is the Friday Mosque, the Masjid-i-Jami, where restoration teams have been working on the tilework for decades. The mosaic is predominantly cobalt blue and white against the warm brown of raw brick. In March afternoon light the blues seem to generate their own luminance. The courtyard smells of dust and the faint sweetness of the rose gardens along the north wall. This is one of the great Islamic architectural achievements in Central Asia, and it receives almost no international visitors.

The days around March 21 transform Afghan kitchens and communal spaces. If you can arrange a home-hosted Nowruz meal through your guide or facilitator, the table will include haft-mewa swimming in its own syrup, sabzi-e-Nowruzi (a dense spinach and herb stew served over rice), and kabuli pulao. The national dish is a mountain of long-grain rice stained amber with caramelized carrots and raisins, layered over slow-braised lamb. The rice carries a sweetness from the carrot and a faint meatiness from the lamb fat. The texture shifts between the crisp grains at the edges and the softer center. In Mazar-i-Sharif the Nowruz gul-e-surkh (red tulip) festival traditionally fills the grounds of the Blue Mosque compound, though the scale of public celebration varies year to year under current governance. The cultural weight of Nowruz in Afghanistan is enormous. It predates Islam here by centuries. Experiencing it as a guest in a household is as close as a foreign visitor gets to Afghan emotional life.