NGK Fellowship: Destination Afghanistan

Hey all,
 It has been a while, I am trying to pace myself and write only twice a week. I think you were getting over loaded with the Kabul stories. So much has happened in the last few days. I have been here for a little over a week and it seems I have been here much longer. In that time I have experienced A LOT
Close call
I will be sending a blog in the coming days about my experience walking on the streets of Kabul. I took a walk some days ago and marveled at the number of uniformed and un-uniformed men with guns. These guns are really big too, almost like a message…probably a message.
Anyhow, yesterday we were almost taken out by one of these huge guns. My host and I went to see one of the old palace ruins. The road to the ruin was a windy uphill road, on one of those Kabul hills/mountains I love so much. As usual I brought out my camera taking all kinds of shots. Close to the mountain was a camp, and on it a military station, with a man (and his gun) waving at me. I figured he was saying “no taking pictures”. My host didn’t see this man, and we drove to the palace ruins. Apparently, in the last month it had been taken over by the military and the sign read, “Military zone. No taking pictures of surveillance, installations, or military personnel. Offenders will be detained”. I read the sign to my host who had not seen it and we had a discussion of what “installations” were. Meanwhile, I was contemplating jail time in Kabul prison, since offenders would be detained. While this was going on, I guess we had stayed on that parking spot for too long, because that waving military guy and another man came running at us with their guns! Oh my goodness, my heart was skipping, jumping, dancing, but I stayed calm. Fortunately, my host saw him and told the driver to keep moving. The driver moved slowly, I think to indicate that we meant no harm. As we proceeded down the windy road, two trucks, TWO TRUCKS, or military men were driving  up hill…I think they were coming to get us. We proceeded even slower as we passed them and made it safely AWAY from the situation. Wow, I thought my host and I need to be more careful.
There are lots of signs in Kabul that have a camera with a red sign across [no taking pictures]. Prior to this experience, my plan was to take a picture of a sign that says “no camera”…but after yesterday, I have aborted that mission.
My adventures continue….I will keep you posted.
 

Walking in Kabul has got to be one of my scariest experiences. I can trace this fear to internal and external reasons. Internally, I would attribute much of the problem to information. My problem really stems from being “over-informed”. I read every single book on Afghanistan from “The book seller of Kabul” to “Kite-runner”. Unfortunately, in those books are images of…let’s say…flawed, and in some cases, brutal Afghan men. Also, those books span different eras of Afghanistan’s history, including the oppressive time of the Taliban rule. As a result, when I walk on the street, I see the severity in the eyes of many men. This severity is understandable given that Afghan people have seen about 25 years of war. In that time, many people have buried children, families and constantly experienced the psychological state of displacement, fear, uncertainty. There are a very few incidences that I see men with “kind eyes”…in the times that I actually look up.

About looking up…thanks to the books and my sheer fear, I decided that walking with my eyes on the ground, not making any eye contact is the safest way to journey while walking in Afghanistan. I figured that a lowered head, eyes to the ground depicts subservience. Now, as an educated woman, I need to do better; however, I cannot get myself to look at people on the street (most people on the street are men) for an extended period . Besides, staring is rude in some cultures and I am not sure if that is the case here (and I am not about to find out).

When I ask Fahim, my co-worker-turned-tour-guide, he tells me there is no problem…when I ask if my sleeves are long enough, he says “yes, women wear even shorter sleeves”. Yet when I look around, EVERYBODY, man or woman, has long sleeves (did I add that Fahim was also wearing long sleeves…). His words offer no comfort at all. What does he know about being a foreign woman…who happens to be black. I am not one to play the race card, but I can’t help but think that the reason why EVERYBODY stares at me when I walk, is not just because I am a foreigner, but is also because I am black. Even a woman in her burka stopped and turned around to stare at me! How did I know?…I was looking at her (I really am intrigued by these faceless women/mothers—topic for another day)…

Externally, my perceptions are not helped by the sheer number of armed men on the street. I took a walk to the City Center, Kabul’s mall. During my 15 minute walk, I counted about 27 men with guns, Kalashnikov, AK-47 assault rifles–granted, many foreigners live in the area. However, for someone who is familiar with armed soldiers in Nigeria, it was still extremely disturbing. These men all have guns. Let me remind you that with a gun one only needs to aim and pull and thus ends a life. You can imagine the scenarios that go through my mind as a woman, a foreigner, a black woman when I pass the 27 men with AK-47s that may be having a rough day and need a reason to vent…

I have been in Kabul for about 13 day, I have gone for only three walks (the other times I’m in a car) I figure that the more adjusted I get, the better my sense of comfort as I get accustomed to my new home-away-from-home.

I WROTE THIS ABOUT A WEEK AGO….unfortunately, the predictions that the violence is coming close to Kabul came true about three days ago—with three bombings in one day–. However, for the time being all is well.

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There is something about this country that makes everyone fall in love with it. It can’t be the water, because most people drink bottled water… must be the air…the one common denominator. My other thought it that it must be the intense amount of passion in the air. It seems everyone in Afghanistan is ready to die for what they believe in. There are two main kinds of people a)the suicide bombers and Islamic fundamentalist that are ready to die, kill for what they believe in b) the engineers of development that are putting their lives at risk daily for what they believe in—the reconstruction of this country. And then there are those who want to understand what makes these people go this far.

One of our schools was rocketed two days ago. An Aid Afghanistan school in Wardak, west of Kabul, was rocketed by the Taliban who have really increased their attacks—To find Wardak pronounced by the Iranians as Vardak and sometime spelt as Vardak, look at Kowt e Ashrow province close to Kabul on the map enclosed. http://www.lib.utexas.edu/maps/middle_east_and_asia/afghanistan.jpg

People are a little uncomfortable with the increased Taliban attack in Wardak because it so close to Kabul. The principle at Wardak had observed the insurgency rising over time and actually the recent rocketing marks the second in about two weeks. We have decided to close down the school and the girls will have to stay home. Hassina has decided to create a “mobile library” so that the girls can keep reading in order to retain all that has been gained in the last 4 years.

Amad, my co-worker went to Baghran, Pol e Khomri, north of Kabul, to get some supplies for Boumi the textile factory/ design firm, my other engagement. He came back with reports that at 1:30 am he was awoken in his hotel. The guards asked to search him and his room because they were in pursuit of suicide bombers in the hotel. Amad says, as they searched him, they found three of them in the adjoining room. What was Amad’s response, “ahh, it is no problem, it is everyday here in Afghanistan.”

The American University is slated to open a campus in Afghanistan, www.auaf.edu.af. “Bill” the director came to pay us a visit and informed us of a car bomb in the outskirts of Kabul that was stalling traffic. During our conversation, “Bill” explained the skeletal security measures which he takes—which as an American is very inadequate.

I asked “Bill” if the bombing in Wardak, the suicide bomber in Pol e Khomri and the car bomb that stalled traffic made him want to go back home. “No”, he said. “I have waited 35 years to come to Afghanistan; nothing is going to make me leave.”

One must have a sense of dedication to Afghanistan to survive the harrowing tales of rockets, bombs, suicide bombers. These are lunch time conversations. We literality sit on the lunch table and talk about the events happening that seem to be creeping closer to Kabul. Yet no one is concerned. My boss’ reaction to this was to buy walkie-talkies so in case something erupts, and the phone lines are down, we can communicate with other.  There is an uncanny sense of calm among all the people who I have encountered here, Afghans and expats. Life goes on, entrepreneurs keep setting up businesses, they have dreams to expand, aid-workers live here with their families and some plan to remain.

So not only do people in Afghanistan, locals and foreigners alike,  fall in love with the country, there is also something about the people (especially foreigners and Afgan in the diaspora) it attracts that defy all odds and dare to dream.

I wonder how far I will go for what I believe….

At about 9:30 am, the building began to “rumble”. It felt like that house was on a railway and a HUGE train was passing by. That description is the only frame of reference I have for explaining what I experienced. Hassina and I just remained in our seats (I was holding on my desk) in an “about to get up position”. I think we weren’t sure if we should run out of the house or stay in. Frankly, I was doing whatever I saw Hassina do. The rest of the staff briskly left the room, not sure why….leaving Hassina and I, half in our seats, half ready to run out of the building. Meanwhile in my mind, I was calculating the number of steps it would take to grab my passport and my laptop a.k.a Czarina—my one prized possession. Fortunately, it last for probably 45 seconds. “Afghanistan lies on the southern fringe of the Eurasian plate.” (http://cires.colorado.edu/~bilham/Afghan.pdf) As a result, it collides with the Arabian Plate to the south and Indian plate to the southeast. After the really short quake, I couldn’t help but think that the Afghanistan is not just plagued with the aftermath of 23 years of war, bombs going off everyday, but earthquakes as well! Almost too much to contend with all in one place…

Hey all,

I know it has been a while. I just recovered from a horrible episode of “more than travelers tummy”. After 2 days of feeling listless, faint, and avoiding ALL food, I saw a doctor who prescribed some serious doses of antibiotic. He thinks I had some sort of food poisoning. Well after the third day, I am back as new! Eating recklessly again! I figure it can’t happen twice in a row…

As my internship draws to a close, I want to share two of the many lingering thoughts/observations which I have had for a while.

They put the l-o-v-e in brotherly love

First let me start by saying living in the US “corrupts” ones interpretation of tactile affection. Here, it is customary to see men walking hand in hand, not because of their sexual orientation, but as a sign of affection and friendship.

To date, I am still amazed by the affection displayed in the office every morning. Let me also add that it is always between and among men, and not between men and women. Okay, with that said, here is what happens every morning among the men in the office. One walks in, says his “Salamalekum or Subahare”, then they hug with a kiss on the cheek, or one puts his head underneath the other’s chin, almost nuzzling…I am sure my description is not doing this justice. Anyhow, if they don’t hug+kiss on cheek, or nuzzle, then give a heart felt embrace. A hug does not adequately cover this action, embrace is more involved.

Yet, I don’t see the same public display of affection among women. I see the occasional handholding, but nothing “heartfelt’. Understandably in a society where all women once wore burqas, there is a sense of “decorum” and subtlety that women must undertake when in public.

Double-standard-mannequins

So in my first week, given this “decorum” you can imagine my shock. After obsessing that my sleeves weren’t long enough, and covering my head in 30 degree (Celsius that is) weather, I am surrounded by “scantily clad” mannequins. First there are mannequins in pretty much every store that sells clothing, which are most stores. Then, these mannequins:

a)don’t have their heads covered! Ubiquitous, uncovered heads peaking from glass store windows

b) the mannequins have sequenced gowns with short sleeves, or spaghetti straps!!! I mean spaghetti straps in a town where women still wear burqas and you hardly see women without a shawl + long sleeves.

My question is who wears these clothing and more importantly to WHERE do they wear them? The unsatisfactory answer I get is that women wear these clothes to weddings. Traditionally during weddings, all the men celebrate together in a different venue from the bride and all the other ladies. So, I guess these fancy short sleeves, spaghetti strapped gowns would be worn to girls’ parties. Somehow, it doesn’t justify having soo many stores with these “indecent” mannequins; even though, I know that there weddings occurring every week. I am still searching for a “more satisfying” reason…

Aid Afghanistan is a remedial program for girls who didn’t get a chance to get an education during the Taliban period. In this all girls program, began by my host during the “forbidden years of education”, there is a wide range of ages in each grade level. One of my projects was to the get the 10^th graders ready for American University in Afghanistan. The American University “consortium” has decided to open an American University of Afghanistan, much like the ones they have in Beirut, Cairo and Dubai. First of all let me digress a bit.

It would be a scary proposition to attend the American University in Afghanistan (AUAF), not because of the quality of education, which is consistent with AU in Washington. But with the Anti-American Taliban campaign what makes a finer target than the American university? First of all to get in, the ‘unauthorized cars’ must remain outside. Each person signs in twice, once at the gate, then at the main building. You must “wear the American University badge at ALL times” or else….as one of the deans calmly told me, “you could get shot”. Nice. For the “authorized vehicles” the bottom of the car is scanned with a long rod and a large mirror like object affixed to the bottom. They are scanning for bombs. Ahh, I have been in this country for about 7 weeks, and even I know that there are many more creative ways to kill a whole bunch of people than strapping car bombs to the bottom of the car which is the most utilized form.

I have pondered about this illusive idea of security in Kabul, or Afghanistan as a whole. There is NO way of fully protecting yourself from people that are ready to die as long as they take out a few foreigners or locals to make a statement.  With that said, I guess, living here, you MUST be immune to bombs, suicide bombers, and the likes.

Side note again: (It doesn’t help that my father is Mr. Security Conscious, but since I’ve been here, I have become a “Security Consultant”. I seem to know all the security loopholes as soon as I enter a room/building.). I should think of a change of career…..

With that said, I believe in the rationale behind attending the AUAF, it is would be an opportunity of a life time to get a solid educational foundation for the girls who may not be able to leave the country: especially girls that are so smart!

Now about my girls…these girls however, are sharp! They are survivors and the sky is their limit. First I gave them a test to check their English aptitude. After which the highest scorers got an intensive English training. I was actually assistant teacher, because we bumped into Ruth an English teacher from San Francisco who agreed assist with the English training. Another digression….Afghanistan is crawling with volunteers. As many people come here to make money, (there is apparently LOTS OF MONEY to be made here) there are those like me, who are just curious and work for free.  Some international NGO workers make up to $20,000 per month. I know you probably read per year, no, PER MONTH!

Back to my girls. I call them my girls. This was one of my more rewarding projects. Helping the girls improve their English. If Afghanistan allows these girls to grow and expand their knowledge, this country will already have a handful of leaders in the making. They were bold, they were vocal. They didn’t strike me as what I perceived to be the “typical Afghan woman”. I was astounded. My first day in class, we had questions session. Among the poignant questions which I got were, are you married? Why are you in Afghanistan (there is a question) how old are you? Are you Muslim? If you are not Muslim how come your name is Zainab? Here I was thinking, I’d get a bunch of docile girls…far from it!

In my class of 13 I had three aspiring doctors, 3 aspiring Sailors (wasn’t sure where that came from, but Hey!), 3 aspiring business women, 2 pilots, one aspiring housewife, and one computer engineer.

My last assignment for them was to write on the topic “If I were a vegetable, what vegetable would I be and why?” We had fun with that one! My last day was two days ago.

I finally understood why Yemi wants to be Professor. There is a lot of gratification in seeing someone develop partly because of your effort…