Travelogue of a visit to Afghanistan by Swiss German lesbian radical shortly before WWII. Lots of lovely landscape descriptions, people exoticized if in a well-meaning way, more focus
on architecture and landscape than people. (It is so odd to me, how little she mentions people even when she's talking about cities.) I probably wouldn't have read it if it hadn't been translated by a friend, and it's very slow, but I liked the prose enough that I am interested in Schwartzenbach's fiction.