This clip of an Afghan Mujahedin getting blown up in a minefield epitomises the beginning of my documentary filmmaker career. It was the most frightening moment in my life. Production Notes: In 1985 I studied Political Science at the University of Zurich but wasn't particularly inspired by the academic life. I was eager to travel and discover the world so looked for an opportunity to try my luck in journalism. In school I always struggled with spelling and with my Swiss German accent, and didn't feel at home with proper German. Therefore, I wasn't very confident with my primary languages - let alone with any other language. Documentary film making was the obvious solution to overcome my difficulties with writing. Fortunately, I was able to start as the entire television industry switched from film to video. Equipment quickly became affordable. Even I, as a newcomer with no experience, could try and get my foot into the door. What makes a 23 year old student leave a cosy, comfortable life in Switzerland and plunge into a war in Afghanistan? Clearly, I was not driven only by rational argument. I must admit, irrational motivations also played a role. On the rational side there was a political dimension. I was aware how news was always tinted by ideologies because I had grown up during the Cold War. Personally, I came from a conservative family background and mostly exposed to a capitalistic free market perspective of the world. The Russian Communists who invaded Afghanistan in 1979 clearly were the bad guys. But in the 1980s Western media were not particularly interested. They focused mainly on the left wing liberation wars in Latin America - at least that was my perception in Switzerland. I was seriously annoyed about the unbalanced selection of newsworthy stories. I found it scandalous that an exodus of over 2 million Afghan refugees into Iran and Pakistan did not win greater attention. As a consequence I decided to try my luck and produce a report. There was a gap in the market. I felt it would be easier to break into the TV industry with a story that didn't have much competition. On the irrational side I was running away from a hopeless love affair - pathetic but true. I'm sure that all too often young men and women are prone to get trapped in emotional frustrations and we are therefore at risk to take crazy, irrational decisions. I didn't act in total isolation. I heard about another young Swiss, Beat Kraettli, who was already preparing a trip to Afghanistan and who had started a career as a photo journalist. I called him up and we agreed to join forces. Beat didn't have more experience than I. However, it was reassuring not to be the only guy who wanted to report about events in Afghanistan. I never mentioned my unhappy love affair and entered a world where I ran away from my own emotions. In hindsight, it was an ideal situation for a documentary filmmaker. It allowed me to look beyond myself, forget my own feelings and focus entirely on the dramas in other people's lives. Even today I find it liberating to follow stories that have nothing to do with my own background. It helps me to put my own little world into perspective and not take it or myself too seriously. The moment I touched Afghanistan I was totally blown away with a sense of extreme culture clash. On one side I was overwhelmed by the amazing hospitality of my Afghan companions and their determination to fight the Russian invaders. But I also struggled with their total lack of rationality. Ending up in the minefield captured in the above video clip was a typical example. I joined a group of Mujahedins who organised an attack against a Russian camp. I thought, since they had already been at war for six years, then they must know what they were doing. Shockingly, they didn't even do a recognisance mission. They could see that they were walking through a mine field but they didn't care and continued forward until one of them blew up. Then they panicked and stopped the attack. The badly insured Mujahedin died a few hours later. Everybody was sad for a few days but they didn't learn any lessons. Their next operation was suicidal too. Their belief of dying as martyrs was enough to keep them going. With my Western mindset I never managed to accept the fatalistic attitude of the Afghans but clearly it makes them fearless. Even today, nothing has changed. Many Afghans - certainly in the Pashtun areas - continue to hate and fight any and all occupying foreign forces: whether they are Russians, Americans or whoever. It doesn't make a difference. Fighting invaders is part of the Afghan culture and a way of life. It's easy to say: Let the Afghans run their own show. But a regime under Taliban control inevitably will violate many fundamental human rights - particularly when it comes to women. Should we care or not? I don't think there are simple solutions. In theory, the international community has an obligation to defend the respect o

This clip of an Afghan Mujahedin getting blown up in a minefield epitomises the beginning of my documentary filmmaker career. It was the most frightening moment in my life. Production Notes: In 1985 I studied Political Science at the University of Zurich but wasn't particularly inspired by the academic life. I was eager to travel and discover the world so looked for an opportunity to try my luck in journalism. In school I always struggled with spelling and with my Swiss German accent, and didn't feel at home with proper German. Therefore, I wasn't very confident with my primary languages - let alone with any other language. Documentary film making was the obvious solution to overcome my difficulties with writing. Fortunately, I was able to start as the entire television industry switched from film to video. Equipment quickly became affordable. Even I, as a newcomer with no experience, could try and get my foot into the door. What makes a 23 year old student leave a cosy, comfortable life in Switzerland and plunge into a war in Afghanistan? Clearly, I was not driven only by rational argument. I must admit, irrational motivations also played a role. On the rational side there was a political dimension. I was aware how news was always tinted by ideologies because I had grown up during the Cold War. Personally, I came from a conservative family background and mostly exposed to a capitalistic free market perspective of the world. The Russian Communists who invaded Afghanistan in 1979 clearly were the bad guys. But in the 1980s Western media were not particularly interested. They focused mainly on the left wing liberation wars in Latin America - at least that was my perception in Switzerland. I was seriously annoyed about the unbalanced selection of newsworthy stories. I found it scandalous that an exodus of over 2 million Afghan refugees into Iran and Pakistan did not win greater attention. As a consequence I decided to try my luck and produce a report. There was a gap in the market. I felt it would be easier to break into the TV industry with a story that didn't have much competition. On the irrational side I was running away from a hopeless love affair - pathetic but true. I'm sure that all too often young men and women are prone to get trapped in emotional frustrations and we are therefore at risk to take crazy, irrational decisions. I didn't act in total isolation. I heard about another young Swiss, Beat Kraettli, who was already preparing a trip to Afghanistan and who had started a career as a photo journalist. I called him up and we agreed to join forces. Beat didn't have more experience than I. However, it was reassuring not to be the only guy who wanted to report about events in Afghanistan. I never mentioned my unhappy love affair and entered a world where I ran away from my own emotions. In hindsight, it was an ideal situation for a documentary filmmaker. It allowed me to look beyond myself, forget my own feelings and focus entirely on the dramas in other people's lives. Even today I find it liberating to follow stories that have nothing to do with my own background. It helps me to put my own little world into perspective and not take it or myself too seriously. The moment I touched Afghanistan I was totally blown away with a sense of extreme culture clash. On one side I was overwhelmed by the amazing hospitality of my Afghan companions and their determination to fight the Russian invaders. But I also struggled with their total lack of rationality. Ending up in the minefield captured in the above video clip was a typical example. I joined a group of Mujahedins who organised an attack against a Russian camp. I thought, since they had already been at war for six years, then they must know what they were doing. Shockingly, they didn't even do a recognisance mission. They could see that they were walking through a mine field but they didn't care and continued forward until one of them blew up. Then they panicked and stopped the attack. The badly insured Mujahedin died a few hours later. Everybody was sad for a few days but they didn't learn any lessons. Their next operation was suicidal too. Their belief of dying as martyrs was enough to keep them going. With my Western mindset I never managed to accept the fatalistic attitude of the Afghans but clearly it makes them fearless. Even today, nothing has changed. Many Afghans - certainly in the Pashtun areas - continue to hate and fight any and all occupying foreign forces: whether they are Russians, Americans or whoever. It doesn't make a difference. Fighting invaders is part of the Afghan culture and a way of life. It's easy to say: Let the Afghans run their own show. But a regime under Taliban control inevitably will violate many fundamental human rights - particularly when it comes to women. Should we care or not? I don't think there are simple solutions. In theory, the international community has an obligation to defend the respect o