On the southern outskirts of the city Zaranj, where the last derelict shanties meet an endless, vacant country – beige desert and beige sky, whipped together into a single coalescing haze by the accurately named Wind of 120 Days – there is a place called Ganj: a kind of way station for Afghan migrants trying to reach Iran.
Read more at THE NEW YORK TIMES.
{Matzav.com Newscenter}
I don’t understand this story. Why is it the scariest corner? This article doesn’t make any sense!