The Kite Runner

I found this buried in a box while I was unpacking after a move and decided now would be a good time to finally read it. That was about 36 hours ago. From the very first page, I was completely mesmerized. Heartbroken, angry, guilt ridden, touched and fascinated, all at once. I was reminded, yet again, why stories matter. When my only experience with Afghanistan is through my twitter feed, or whatever headline hits the daily news cycle, it is too easy to see the world in black and white. Our minds gather information and lump it into groups to make complex situations easier to comprehend, or just to make ourselves feel better. Stories make that impossible. Afghanistan is not a headline - it is cherry trees and kites, it is Hassan and Amir climbing trees, it is the neighborhood where everyone knows a bit too much about you. I now see this place for what it was once, and what it could have been. I don't feel better, not in the slightest. But at least I'm not living in the dark.