Kuchi Coup

Having learned that we were in town and not going anywhere anytime soon, the Badgis governor very courteously invited a group of us to his place for dinner.  It was the usual elaborate spread - heaping plates of rice with nuts and raisins, lentils, yogurt, lamb, chicken, some other bird, squash, tea, fruit,even Mountain Dew.  But what was most interesting were his stories of his trip to the US.  He had been to Utah, but the city that most impressed him was Atlanta, he said.  What a coincidence - I have a daughter living in Atlanta, I told him.  That was great news, because perhaps she could find out something for him.  Of course, I replied.  He remembered that when he was in Atlanta, they went for a short drive and then stood on a hill overlooking the ocean.  It was the first time he had ever seen the ocean, and it overwhelmed him.  He gazed for what seemed like at hours at the seven rivers flowing together into the great bay and the ocean.  What, he wondered, were the names of the seven rivers?  Well, I was beginning to think that maybe it wasn't Atlanta, unless "short drive" means something different to Afghans, but I couldn't for the life of me think of anywhere on the southern east coast where seven rivers merged, and nobody else in our group could, either.  Then he remarked that one thought he had while gazing at the ocean was the realization that, if he followed the sea long enough, far beyond the horizon, there was Japan.  That sealed it for me; I knew he had to be talking about Seattle, though I don't know if there are seven rivers there or what their names are.  But I wasn't going to correct an understandable mistake - hey, let's face it, "Atlanta" and "Seattle" sound similar, their football teams are both named after birds, and it so happens that I have daughters living in each one, so I'm covered either way on the whole rivers research thing. But I was the only one in our group who had come to this conclusion at this point.  But not for long.  Among the other things that impressed him about Satleanttle was an account told to him of this fish - a sort of Kuchi fish, he said.  (The Kuchi are the nomads of Afghanistan; they wander across the country with herds of goats or sheep. They even have a sort of mobile voting booth to let them participate in elections, since it's not like they have fixed addresses.)  This Kuchi fish, he told us, traveled up and down the rivers all its life, forever wandering.  I have decided henceforth that whenever I order salmon in a restaurant, I will call it Kuchi fish.