At Camp Nathan Smith, which oddly enough, finds itself situated smack dab in the middle of an Afghan town and which uniquely (among the bases I have visited at least) has its own little community of Afghan inhabitants, I ran across a pomegranate grove. Now, I have enjoyed eating the occasional juicy pink pomegranate especially around Christmas time when I was a kid and I know pomegranates are considered symbols of fertility in many cultures because of their abundance of seeds and propensity for popping right on open when they are ripe, but I had never seen a pomegranate in its natural habitat before. Yet, one sunny Afghan morning, as I walked from my tent to the laundry, then on to the dining facility (DFAC), there they were! Pomegranates hanging right on the trees next to the path with their mouths open and seeds a showin'. The fruits almost seemed to smile at me as I pass. Fascinating. I wanted so badly to pick and taste! I am told that the local warlord's second in command and his family are the Afghans living there and their presence is what keeps the base safe from incoming artillary and such...well, most of the time. Anyway, apparently, they are also the ones who tend the gardens and grove. How I wish I could discuss the ins and outs of growing pomegranites with them.
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