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Life expectancy in Afghanistan is just 45 years, a terrible statistic influenced by the high rate of infant mortality in rural areas such as Panjwaii district, Kandahar, where medical resources are practically nil . But there are plenty of old-timers in the country; one sees scads of grizzled male elders who are out and about. Survivors of wars, poverty, pestilence, you name it. These guys have some grit. Including the fellow I met recently, pictured above. A kindly old gent, he seemed, hobbling about with aid of a cane in the village of Bazaar-e-Panjwaii. He welcomed me inside his small, mud and straw-walled compound, one that he shares with children and veiled women (no photographing them). The younger men in the family will have been outside, working the fields. The compound also housed an assortment of free-ranging animals–goats, donkeys, birds.

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Stepping into compounds such as his feels like walking back in time. To biblical times. The old man offered me a meal. I didn’t ask his age. He’s probably in his 60s or 70s. One thing is certain: He’s still working. Here’s proof:

Some more old fellows I’ve met in the last few days, on the Panjwaii trail. Lots of character in these faces:

Below, a pair of old friends, standing in front of yet another Panjwaii poppy field. Like most Afghans I’ve encountered, they were happy to pose for a photo–although, like everyone here, they posed stone-faced–and they were thrilled to see their images as they appeared on my camera display. They cackled at this picture–“ahhh gooood, gooood”–then turned and walked away.