SuperShura!

Morning shines its light on the strangest outpost in Afghanistan, as Afghan soldiers perched on top of one lumber pile look out. It wasn't nearly as serene a scene if you could hear the horrific music blasting from their boom box though...which was more like cats being tortured as a rythm-less class takes drum lessons.

The command post, now properly adorned with the battalion shield, was the center of activity as local elders began to arrive by the dozens for a large shura, or what we would later call the SuperShura.

Though it definitely be cheesy, I thought I'd pose with the backdrop of the heart of the valley, whose villages were represented at the large gathering of leaders.

"So whatchu whatchu whatchu want?" asked Afghan Col. Esop of our battalion commander. Well, that's what I think he was rapping in Dari. I later showed this photo to Mike, the interpreter in sweatshirt and ballcap, and he said, "Yeah, that colonel likes to shake hands a lot."

The SuperShura takes shape. A couple hundred gents wound up attending this meeting, dressed in all variations of manjammies and beard/hair dye (red is clearly the most popular).

Expectantly we all waited...for the governor was taking his sweet time getting to the helicopter that would take him here, I later learned.

Though it seems like a ton of pictures of the same event, believe me - I only selected relatively few. I was fascinated by this gathering, and the setting. This 'amphitheater' had been hastily shaped by a couple of the towering timber stacks.

Each time a new contingent of important or self-important people, or another gaggle of elders, arrived the crowd would undergo another round of musical chairs in order to strictly enforce priority seating. Punctuality, on the other hand? Not enforced.

Get those shawls over your faces, because every few minutes there were the repeated intrusions of those pesky blackhawks, which - as we were below the landing zone - kicked up the whole dirt of the hillside into our faces.

"Now people, please! We thought there'd be enough punch and cookies for all, but you each brought a dozen friends, so you'll just have to accept cash instead."

An up-close look at one of our colorful participants. I learned quickly that the seats on the side are coveted, for the ease of spitting off to the side instead of just down, like old man firebeard here is busy doing.

Some of the key leaders huddled for more substantial decisions after much of the SuperShura had dispersed, such as where to go for lunch (seriously). Remember, blue sport jacket = big man on campus.

"Thank you all for coming. Remember to get your parking validated on the way out!"

When it was time to go, there was the standard way home for some...

And the standard for others.