Notes from a small island:

A kitten came into our lives. He's called Oscar as we found him in the gutter. He is six weeks old and a prettty adorable bundle of fluff; loves attention and is forever finding things to climb; cushions, legs, mosquito screens. As he's so young, he's not supposed to be eating too much solid food; so I'm mixing milk formula in a baby bottle. Who would have thought! The guys in my office didn't know what a kitten was, now they call him the cat kid.

Ali, the joker, and I were talking the other night about names for the "cat kid". Something Afghan he said, how about Mullah Omar I suggested, as a joke. Later that night, I get a text from Ali. "Mullah Omar has been captured". I immediately go online and look; nothing. Ali, I text back - I can't find the story. he sends me another text. "Oh, I thought with the cat kid having his name, we would be lucky this time."

I have been to the gym four times now, after I signed a form promising a) not to wear lycra b) not to reveal anything. The former, yes of course, the latter .. reveal what? My age, my weight, my real hair colour? I have now managed to get up to 25 minutes without collapsing a lung - I am acclimatising.

My colleagues are a strange bunch. They keep inviting me to visit their home provinces, especially the ones that are the most violent, and suggesting that I wear a burqa.

One colleague, Muzhary, has been back and forth to his home in Ghazni province quite often recently. He told me that he has some family problems ... oh, I ask .... thinking a family drama of some sort. Yes, my relative has been kidnapped by the Taliban. It seems the Taliban think his relative, a cousin I think, is a spy for the US as he was working in a shop that sold American goods. Gotta give it to these Taliban - they know how to use logic! They do not want a ransom, they only want evidence that his cousin is not a spy.
But don't worry Muzhary says, if they kidnap you, I will also find a way to free you.

Muzhary, who is 26, is contemplating his marriage choices right now. There is the daughter of his aunt whose house he is staying in in Kabul, or the daughter of an uncle back in Ghazni. The aunt's daughter is more educated, but that means she is not as "submissive", he tells me. But the educated one will be able to teach his children well, he says. Perhaps she can teach you somthing too I say. No, there is nothing she can teach me. I even cook better than she does. He promises to cook me something vegetarian.

Naseh is 24. He is already married. he laughs all the time. He now no longer stares at my chest all the time, which is a good thing. I ask him how he met his wife, she's 18. I saw her come into my village and I told my aunt, that I wanted to marry that woman. But how do you know what she looks like, I ask, as she must wear a burqa in his village in the east. He told his aunt and sisters to go and see what she looks like, is his reply.  She is uneducated but cooks and will look after his children. He doesn't want children for three years, he tells me. They are expensive and we are still young.