I wasn’t even taking photography when Mr. Keating announced his class field trip to Afghanistan in the spring of 1978, but I added my name to the roster anyway. Coach Ross got so mad when he heard about it, he threw me off the track team. “You’ve got to get your priorities straight,” he growled. If I stayed behind at our high school in Isfahan, Iran, I’d be hyperventilating around a dusty track every day while Ross lambasted me. If I went, I’d be exploring an exotic country with my friends. “I do have my priorities straight,” I replied. “I’m going.” A few weeks later I found myself on a chartered bus hurtling east across Iran towards the Afghan border. The school administration probably orchestrated our first stop, which was on the Iranian side of the border. We toured a museum that showcased failed drug smuggling operations. They displayed everything from a men’s shoe with a hollowed out heel to an entir...
Matt's Completely True Adventures