Ten Weeks in Afghanistan: Reflecting on My Experience

I returned from Afghanistan almost a month ago, after ten weeks abroad. Since returning, I’ve been settling back in to the comforts of American life with a sense of relief and renewed perspective. In general, traveling abroad always forces one to re-assess expectations and assumptions about the outside world. But my trip to Afghanistan was considerably more jarring in this way. In a sense it was like stepping into an alternate universe, where an American can take none of his usually-held beliefs and customs for granted because so much of Afghan life is entirely different.

Much of this difference reveals itself on the cultural level, of course, and in this regard Afghanistan is a rich example of cultural prosperity. Bazaars all around Kabul teem with life and activity as people trade and sell goods, haggling with gusto over the correct price. In the ancient city of Herat, I looked up at 600-year-old frescos commissioned by the great conqueror Timur Shah. In Bamyan I gazed in awe at 400-foot niches where great stone-carved buddhas once stood inside cliff walls. Much of this cultural richness is due to Afghanistan’s geographic position at the heart of the Asian continent, ensuring its fate as a thriving crossroads of interchange (both peaceful and otherwise) between a great array of societies over time.

I also saw this cultural richness on a personal level. Friends and family there interact with an amazing level of warmth and openness that reminded me how hard times--and Afghans have seen more than their share--often bring people together, when the people themselves are all that remain after years of strife. These strong communal bonds are also encouraged by the reverence that nearly all Afghans share in their faith in Islam: more than simply the primary religion of Afghanistan, Islam is a way of life, and its principles and lessons inform all aspects of day-to-day society. Even as an outsider, I was consistently treated with a feeling of hospitality like I’ve rarely experienced before. An Afghan that I encountered on the street might be making only around $50 a month at his job, but he would still invariably insist that I come in to his house for tea and a lavish meal with his family.

The hardest differences between here and Afghanistan exist in the realm of development, and this is where the NGO I was working for, Trust in Education, has been directing its energy towards that nation for five years. Simply put, the past thirty years have been devastating for Afghanistan. Through the times of the Soviet occupation, civil war and the Taliban regime, the Afghan people have suffered immeasurably, and the infrastructure of their country was reduced to rubble by the end of 2001. In Kabul, where I helped set up Trust in Education’s new office, fully seventy per cent of the city was destroyed through the wars of the past generation. 2002 was effectively “year zero” for Afghanistan, and the international community still has its work cut out for it across a wide range of areas: law enforcement, health, education, and many others.

Above all, I had so many more rewarding experiences than frustrating ones as I got my hands into doing research and project-management work for the NGO. Trust in Education is unique among the many NGOs in Afghanistan for its depth in the communities it serves, and I feel deeply gratified to have been a part of the strong relationship this organization has fostered with the villagers of Tangi Saidan and Lalander. On the research side, I'll never forget roadtripping around the provinces north of Kabul with my friend and translator Naweed, talking about cultural differences and laughing at some local council members' attempts to lie to me--thinking that I can't understand Dari. I can't, of course. But Naweed can.

I sometimes joke with Budd, the founder of Trust in Education, about how I first got involved with his organization--how un-encouraging he was when I first told him I’d like to go over to Afghanistan and help out. Understandably, he discouraged me for safety reasons. Let’s face it, Afghanistan isn’t a popular spring-break destination for a reason. But the more I learned about his program, the more I wanted to become a part of it, and he finally relented around the same time I solidified my independent-research plans. I’m incredibly grateful that he gave me the opportunity to work on behalf of his organization over there, and very satisfied with the amount of material I now have to inform my ongoing thesis project. This summer was an experience I will always keep with me, and one that I know I will continually draw from for years to come.

Final Pictures from around Kabul, and on the way home

Just the last of what I thought were interesting shots taken towards the end of my time in Afghanistan...and a couple from a fun interlude in Delhi, India on my way back home.

For all pics in this set, please check out:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/mattve/sets/72157607047992114/


Asma and I, up on the roof of our NGO's office



Hangin' in the rug shop



A humvee comes roaring out of the dust at Bagram Air Force Base



Doh-e Shamshira Mosque, central Kabul, along the Kabul River



Two Indian guards at Delhi Int'l Airport...the guard on the right has made himself a hat out of newspaper...



...And this is me wearing that same hat. He also taught me how to salute properly.



Kid with kite of Afghan flag colors. Most kites flown in the city I saw were pretty make-shift like this, reflecting a lot of the astounding resourcefulness I saw on display in general over there.



Playing ultimate frisbee with other ex-pats. So necessary to get out and get some exercise!



Two guys at the rug shop help repair a cut on my foot, that I got from broken concrete blocks on Chicken Street. Thanks dudes. And Thanks to the Tufts health center for the tetanus vaccine!



What a spread. A lavish lunch with Dr. Ahmedi of the United Nations Habitat program



With friends Evan and Danny at a party



The bombed-out front of the Indian Embassy, a month or so after



Newly-restored mausoleum of Timur Shah



Local Council members in Parwan Province. These guys had trouble deciding on anything; no clear leadership. According to my translator Naweed, they even had trouble deciding whether or not to tell me the truth about some things I asked for research. Gentlemen, good luck to you all.

Pictures from the Embed in Bamyan

These are pictures from the trip I took as an "embed" with the New Zealand Armed Forces out in Bamyan. I was there doing research for my upcoming thesis project, and everyone there was incredibly helpful and open about their experiences and thoughts about the overall mission. Being embedded meant that I spent a night at their base near the airport, walking around and interviewing people I thought would be most relevent for my project. In the morning I had breakfast and left, heading over to the United Nations Habitat office where I sat in with a council meeting of about 25 local leaders, asking them about their experiences with the New Zealanders. It was fascinating being able to get both sides of the story like that, especially as the stories I heard from either side were often radically different.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/mattve/sets/72157607045508218/


Maori warrior, on a cabinet



"Kiwi" (New Zealander) with a huge gun



Schwartzenegger's garage in Sacramento



Dorms, with Buddha niche in the background



My ride to Bamyan this time...six seats for passengers



The mine and rocket garden...strange sense of humor



Rocket gnomes, naturally



6-foot cement kiwi on top of the guardhouse



The emblem of the All-Blacks, NZ's most famous rugby team

Pictures from Herat

Pictures from my trip to Herat--for all photos, check out:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/mattve/sets/72157606542716959/

And to check out some pictures from mine and Asma's trip to a few areas around Kabul (Paghman, Istalif and Lake Qargha), check out:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/mattve/sets/72157607010846774/


Man and son, who I met in a park


Men on pilgrimage to Gazar Gah shrine


Afghanistan on a hillside


There are tanks scattered all over the Afghan landscape...


Fact-checking


National pride

Herat and Panjshir videos

Here are some videos I took while in Herat, three little short ones. Herat is the unofficial cultural capital of Afghanistan, a marvelous ancient city. Also, one of the few relatively-well-developed big cities in the land. Had four great days there in July. Plus, one more video from Panjshir, of a shura meeting I attended.




A short cityscape of Herat, the wind messing with the sound at times...





A man mixing clay for making tiles..not really action-packed, but calming.





Men chanting in prayer in the Gazah Gah shrine...kinda mind-blowing





Men talking at a local council meeting in Panjshir

Favorite Bamyan pics, and a movie

In case you weren't able to check out the Flickr site for these, here are my favorite pictures from Bamyan. I'm going back as soon as Southwest Airlines will fly me there from Oakland.



The Big Buddha Niche


The smaller third buddha, with monks' cliff-dwellings underneath


Breakfast on the way to Band-e Amir...feelin' just a little more chipper than the rest of the crew


Boy on top of the "Dragon's Back" geological site


Proud Hazara shopkeeper out in the provinces


Going for a swim in the Band-e Amir Lakes

Panjshiri Eyes

Would you believe this kid is Afghan? Only in Panjshir...



At a local council meeting, the mullah leader weighs a decision



Naweed Tanhaa, translator extraordinaire



Striking a Panjshiri pose

The Panjshir Valley

Here's a video of me up in the Panjshir Valley, homeland of the mighty mujahedin commander Ahmad Shah Massoud. I made a trip up to Panjshir a couple weeks ago for research, it's one of the PRTs I'm looking at. It was really revealing to sit in on a couple of their meetings and watch them discuss their local issues, talk about the Americans there and reveal their many secrets for beating the Soviets throughout the 1980s.

The Panjshiris have the most beautiful eyes, and many of them also look European (like the kid above). I kept thinking, "These are the original caucasians...White people even before they got to Europe!" Could be true, who knows. (Paging Dr. Jarod Diamond...) When people have said I look Afghan this summer, they've always said I look Panjshiri. Now I know why.

I'm currently writing this while "embedded" in New Zealand's military camp here in Bamyan. I just did about five big interviews with people here. All of the Kiwis have been laid back, totally chill and inviting. The New Zealander personality very much fits the relaxed security situation here in Bamyan. Plus, they had salmon in the mess hall tonight, and I ate three huge pieces. Consequently this is now my favorite PRT. Which could affect the impartiality of my research.

Researching the PRTs

As I mentioned yesterday, research for next year's thesis has been coming together much more rapidly in the past couple weeks. Mostly because I've been trying to think hard about, and act on, those research-related experiences that I wouldn't be able to get back in the States. So it's a lot of speculation and brain-storming on the fly about what exactly I'll have wanted to check out while here this summer, as I write this thing over the coming months. At this point I've got something good going, a solid place to start I think: examining the three PRTs (Provincial Reconstruction Teams) that fall under the US Military group called Brigade Task Force Warrior, which are Bamyan, Panjshir and Parwan-Kapisa.

PRTs are local governance structures generally tasked with providing security and aiding development in their areas of operation. Bamyan PRT is headed by the New Zealanders, while Panjshir and Parwan-Kapisa are run by the Americans. But all three fall under the Task Force Warrior subdivision in the US' Command of RC-East: basically the eastern quarter of the country. So I'm looking at the differences in their structures--which are partly determined by their relative security situations, and also by the personalities of the American leadership vs. New Zealander leadership--as well as the PRTs' overall relationship with their surrounding Afghan communities. (Uh oh, get a pillow, sounds like Matt's gonna write another policy-paper blog...)

To get deeper into this research while I'm here, I decided to push back my date of departure from the 8th to the 12th. In doing so, I'm sacrificing four days in India that I had set aside for myself before returning to the States--my Air India flight back to San Francisco was supposed to pass through there anyway, I had just turned a lay-over into a short stay-over. But I'm happy with this decision to just go straight from Kabul back home, mostly because I feel like I still have things to do here, like research and some projects for Trust in Education, that I want to complete before heading home. Also, Afghanistan has been a 100% summer adventure in itself. India would be a little bonus, but four days really isn't enough time to give the mighty Sub-continent justice. I'll tackle it another time.


Yesterday I went up to Kapisa province, and definitely over-booked myself as well as my translator/driver Naweed as we went to four meetings all over the small province. I found Naweed though a friend I play ultimate frisbee with...I can't even tell you how many useful connections I've been able to make while just playing frisbee once or twice a week. Naweed teaches Pashto and Dari (the two main languages here) to ex-pats like myself at his tutoring clinic here in Kabul, and my friend Mike (one of Naweed's tutees) recommended him to me. He's been a great help as I've travelled to Panjshir, Parwan and Kapisa...my Dari skills just aren't that strong. We'll be sitting in a governor's meeting, like we were yesterday in Kapisa's government center, and he'll lean over to me and quietly translate what's going on, or just write down notes about what's being discussed on a paper pad I brought. I'd be lost without his help, obviously.

Plus, on the car rides up to Panjshir and Kapisa, as we pass the great expanse of the Shomali Plains on our right, we talk about things like differences in American and Afghan cultures. For example, dating here is incredibly hard (if not impossible) for young Afghan guys, as Afghan ladies really give off the vibe of being off-limits, and family members often discourage anything that even resembles dating. We also discuss the interesting gossip of what was said at the meetings that he couldn't translate openly to me. Apparently, the Panjshiris (the most fascinating Afghan cultural group to me) thought I was an American Government spy sent to their local council meeting to eavesdrop on their conversations. The Panjshiris were already angry before the meeting began, because they only received a quarter of the food relief that they felt USAID had promised them. Therefore, they were short on positive things to say about the U.S. of A. when I caught up to them.

In all the meetings I attend, I typically start with the same questions: What kind of presence does the PRT and its members have in your lives? Do they come to your shura (local council) meetings? Do they do a good job? Do they listen to your concerns? How could they improve? I write notes a lot, and also record their (translated) comments with a little dictaphone thing I brought. These meetings and individual interviews have been a once-in-a-lifetime way to gather information for my research. Just sitting in and listening to them discuss their usual concerns like water rights, land issues and frustrations with the central government...and then being able to ask them directly how they feel about the people who have come from far abroad, charged with the responsibility of helping Afghans develop their land and provide security for themselves.

I'll be flying out to Bamyan again tomorrow for a couple more shura meetings, and hopefully an embedding with soldiers from New Zealand as they go out on their patrols around the valley. Exciting stuff.

The Bamyan photos...please enjoy

It's been an exciting day here, I mapped out the rest of my time here in Afghanistan in terms of research trips and major activities for Trust in Education. The research has really been picking up steam in the past couple weeks, I've been having some amazing interviews--the kind of stuff I could never learn States-side. I'll write more after coming back from Kapisa province and Bagram airbase tomorrow (finally got access there!).

In the mean time, check out these pictures from Bamyan if you get a chance. Definitely the most beautiful sites I've seen here this summer, and I'll be going back for more research on Tuesday.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/mattve/sets/72157606505842617/

Videos from Bamyan

The Valley of Bamyan


The Band-e Amir Lakes


Band-e Amir Lakes: 3 Lakes Connected

Hi again

I just realized it's been two weeks since I've written anything here, it's been action-packed. Since I last wrote, I've been working pretty non-stop on a bunch of projects for Trust in Education while in Kabul. Everything from teacher salaries to networking-type meetings (trying to get the TiE name out there) to internal personnel issues to agriculture to river damming. It's thrilling being in this position as project manager, despite the exhaustion sometimes and feeling like there's a hundred pots on the fire to tend to. I've never had such a range of responsibilities all at one time, and it all feels like absolute bonus: being able to learn so much about on-the-ground development work like this in a place that badly needs it.

I have only about two more weeks here, which is also kind of crazy given how invested I feel at this point. I plan to keep pushing through hard for that time, who knows when I'll ever have an opportunity like this again. It's also been fun meeting interesting ex-pats from around the world here. There's a tiny little social scene that I join once or twice a week in the evenings for ultimate frisbee, house parties, or beers and burgers at the few underground ex-pat restaurants around town. Interactions like these are a great relief after a hard day.

It's been really interesting to see from here how focused the American media has been on Afghanistan recently. It seems like Iraq has totally faded from the headlines, and it's all about Afghanistan now. "How to save Afghanistan" is the cover story for Time magazine, and inside (after a pretty good cover article by a guy who does a lot of cultural preservation around the country) McCain and Obama each give little blurbs about what they will each do to help in the effort here. And of course, Obama made his way here a few days ago, it seems like his current foreign-policy trip is all people are hearing about back home. From what I read, he said some pretty astute things, reflecting about the situation here in an interview, and then that big speech he made last week. I especially like the parts about (much) more non-military aid--that's the good long-term-remedy type thinking.

But I really have no idea how the international community and the Afghan government goes about "saving" this place, besides (generally) the right policies being in place for a long, long time. Patience is key; the problem will not be solved in even an eight-year administration of either McCain or Obama (or Nader...well, maybe Nader...) With all the turmoil over the past generation, everyone I talk to here is convinced it will be at least another generation or two before Afghans can resume the kind of relatively normalcy they had here in the "hey-days" of the 1960s and 70s, when the only insurgency concerns were tied to the rapid influx of good ol' American hippies. Man I wish I could have been here to see those times.

Both Obama and McCain talk about big surges of two-three brigades' worth of new troops here, though any injection of troops here has to be balanced so carefully with what we take out of Iraq. Iraq is not "solved" by any means, just because we're not hearing about it in the news as much (or at all). Both the Iraq and Afghan conflicts have the US Military stretched so far, I sincerely hope we can get more US (and other NATO countries') troops here soon. Though I've complained here before about how the media never seems focus on positive news here, there's no question that things are generally going downhill here security-wise. It's going to take a major correction of international policy to right the Afghan ship of state, given the way attacks are pouring in from the tribal lands in Pakistan. I can't believe the Pakistani government made a peace deal with these Taliban clowns up in the north of that country. Since they did so in April, attacks through the eastern border of Afghanistan have increased 40 percent. They thought the Taliban would compromise? Have you read their brochures? Compromise isn't really in the description.

Still, Kabul feels like a relative safe zone, far from the front. Except for the most random things like the Indian Embassy bombing a couple weeks ago, but things like that are so far and few between. This city is so fortified, a major Taliban offensive here isn't even possible. First of all, traffic here is so bad, their convoys would probably get hot and bored just waiting to get around to their targets. Second, the terrain of this city has always made it very hard to invade--it's totally surrounded by the jagged, towering mountains of the Hindu Kush. Third, the Taliban and al-Queda don't have armies, just little platoons of brain-washed individuals that carry out random attacks.

Besides being here working, I've been having a blast travelling all around the country the past couple weeks. That's another reason I haven't written--I've been trying to find a computer that can upload all my pictures of recent trips to Bamyan and Herat, because I've really wanted my pictures to tell the story as opposed to me just talking about these places. In case you're curious, I have yet to find that computer. (Except I have just given the picture files to a friend who has crazy good internet at her high-fallutin', high-budget NGO office. This is where NGO envy kicks in.)

The scenery in a place like Bamyan is indescribable, especially the Band-e Amir Lakes--the most beautiful sight I've seen in this entire country. I'll try to put up some little videos I took there up on this blog, and in a few days I'll put up the picture links to Flickr. We'll see how it works out. "Inshallah," as they say here--or in English, "If God wills it." It's a phrase that applies to a remarkably wide array of situations in Afghanistan, I've found.

Trips to Lalander and Tangi Saidan

Pictures from Lalander and Tangi Saidan

This last one is my favorite picture that I've taken here.

If you go to this set, you can see its companion shot, a more serious version. But I like this one better.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/mattve/sets/72157605965176007/

I took this shot last week during a trip to the Char Asiab region, about 5 miles southwest of Kabul city. Trust in Education has a few classes down in there for computer training, literacy and English, and I went down with a few co-workers to check out how things are going. It was great to get out of the city for a day, and really see how this organization carries out its work. Me, Basir, Maiwand and Asma (Maiwand's niece) left at around 6:30 in the morning, because the first class we visited goes from 7am to 9am.

This first class was a literacy class, taught by a truly dedicated lady named Farzana. Farzana has offered up her house as the classroom, as a safe alternative to being at Ministry of Education-sanctioned schools. It's an all-female class of about 30 students, though the students range in age from 8 to over 40. The younger girls come here because their parents won't let them go to the Ministry schools--I think because of tradition, mostly, in that women in Afghanistan don't seem to be allowed to leave the house much at all. (Roughly 90% of the people I see on the street here in Kabul are men, and that's in the capital metropolis. About half of the other 10% that are women are fully covered in the head-to-toe, powder-blue burqa. It's another striking contrast to Western society.) So, coming to a neighbor's house for a literacy course offers a reasonable compromise.

For the older women in the class, Trust in Education is providing them with their first chance to learn to read and write. Given the deep gender inequalities that have existed here, as well as the general historical turbulence in Afghanistan over the past generation, these ladies simply never learned these skills before. For this reason, they seem much hungrier than the younger girls to learn whatever they can. I'll never forget the intense looks in their eyes, dead-set on watching Farzana's mouth move as she taught them basic literacy. It was as if Farzana was finally unveiling some long-kept secret to these women. One of these ladies had lost both of her legs to a land mine years ago; she read us poem about how overjoyed she is that she is now able to take part in a class like this. To say I was floored doesn't really capture the feeling.

We then moved on to Tangi Saidan, a fairly large village further south out of town. The shops of south Kabul city started to peter out as we drove into the countryside, through bone-dry hills and lush green river valleys. We came to a girls' school after about a half hour, where we talked with the headmaster, a forward-thinking and considerate guy. All the girls at this school are fortunate to be coming of age after the fall of the Taliban government, which forbid females from being educated at all. We went into a few classrooms and asked what they're learning about; one was an art class, and they did a kind of free-draw session for us as we introduced ourselves and took pictures for the organization back home.

The malik of Tangi Saidan--like the chief of a tribe, or a local governor--came and met us as we measured out where the headmaster would like a wall around his girls' school (a $16,000 estimate, he explains... Hmmm, did we mention we're an NGO?). The malik took us to his farm, which was richly cultivated and a dramatic contrast to the brown rocky mountains that surround this valley. He showed us where he could use a new retaining wall, to protect his crops from mudslides and the overflowing of a nearby canal. After we discussed figures and measurements, he suddenly clambered up a tree and started kicking branches left and right. Below him, four of his (many) children held out a wide sheet to catch the berries he was shaking off these branches from above. We knew them as mulberries, but the locals called them "toot." He took us back to the main house on his grand estate, where we ate the berries and talked about life in the village. (This is where I got that picture of the grandfather and his grandkids...guys over 70 here get this amazing artistic license to dress like kings. This should be universal.)

The pace was so nice and slow out here, just 5 miles away from chaotic, bustling Kabul. The air was pristine, and we could hear the river rushing by as we walked from place to place. Just two days ago I got a chance to visit the village of Lalander, another place where our organization has programs, but much further out than Tangi Saidan. The landscape there was even more dramatic, with higher jagged peaks, and abundant vegetation along the rivers between them. Maiwand and I spent the whole day there, visiting classes in the morning and discussing river-related development projects with locals in the afternoon. Turns out they need a dam across their river to benefit the village and protect against floods. We told them to make us an estimate, and we'll look into it.

For pictures of just the Lalander trip, check out: http://www.flickr.com/photos/mattve/sets/72157606075432965/

Also, Asma sent me this link to a great feature article on Kabul. It has some hard information on this place, and some great insight through pictures. http://www.nytimes.com/2008/07/06/weekinreview/06hicks.html?ex=1216008000&en=fbb058ee500f382b&ei=5070&emc=eta1

Kabul bombing earlier today

Hey, just wanted to let everyone know that I am alive and well. For those who haven't heard, there was a suicide car bombing outside of the Indian Embassy in downtown Kabul today that killed around 40 people. I was out of town at the time, in the small village of Lalander where Trust in Education does a lot of work. Given that Lalander is so far out of the city, I had no cell-phone reception all day and didn't hear about the bombing until about an hour ago, after I got back.

It's very shocking to hear about, it definitely affects any sense of being in a "bubble" here in Kabul, away from large acts of violence. I've been talking to many people here, ex-pats and Afghans, since returning from Lalander just a little while ago; sharing information is the best thing to do at this point I think. It's hard to know what to do besides this, given the random nature of this kind of violence. I know I will continue to be extremely cautious, as I've been when in any majorly-populated areas around town. And just yesterday I moved to an area of town that is farther away from the city center (I had actually been planning to do this for financial reasons), which may also be a good precaution. As I said, it's hard to know exactly how to respond to something like this. It's just incredibly tragic, for the civilians, shopkeepers and diplomatic officials there around the Indian Embassy today. Please keep them in your thoughts.

More city pictures

The gardener of the institute and his son


Trying kebab for the first time


The tomb of Timur Shah


Making a key the old-fashioned way


Here are some recent shots around the city, and here's the link for more.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/mattve/sets/72157605772109508/

Activities update

Another sunny day here, I'm looking out the window of the Institute at the old city walls high up on the mountain. I've been putting plans together the past couple of days to explore beyond Kabul, both for work with Trust in Education and for my own research here. Things have been very busy with Trust in Education in the past few weeks as we've been putting our new office together across town in Carte Char. It's been labor-intensive, given that we've really been putting it together from the ground up, but gratifying. Here are some pictures of it coming together, it's really more like a big house than a typical city office: http://www.flickr.com/photos/mattve/sets/72157605560494633/

I feel like I've really been able to dig into the role of project manager here, juggling a bunch of different priorities in a totally new environment. Because it's such a small organization, there's a lot more I'm able to get my hands into, covering all aspects of an up-and-coming outfit like this. Things like carrying out the huge and varied range of programs we've got here (women's empowerment and education, improved irrigation systems for farmers, access to computer classes for kids and young adults), handling teacher salaries, and mediating disputes between co-workers--including occasional disputes between myself and these co-workers. Exhausting as it can be, it's real on-the-ground leadership training, and maybe even diplomacy training. At the end of the day, these aspects have been just as much a part of the thrill of being here as just simply being here, in such an interesting place, after five years of not having been abroad. I feel like the more experience like this that I can squeeze out of these ten weeks, the more rewarding this all is.

Now I'm ready to turn a corner and get into the field more. Plans are coming together today for a big trip to Char Asiab, the region just south of Kabul city where Trust in Education does most of its work. We'll finally be going in a few days, to meet teachers, community leaders, and see the lay-out of the place where Trust in Education has been doing some really substantial rural development for the past four years. It's a trip that takes a considerable amount of coordination, given that security there is generally not what it is around Kabul. So we're going as a good-sized group, and one of my co-workers is actually from there, which helps a lot. I'll also probably be wearing the shalwer kameez, that long robe-shirt I was sporting in the hiking pictures. I may not be mistaken for Hamid Karzai in this thing, but it helps in terms of blending in and paying respect. And hey, I've actually been told by actual Afghans that I could pass for being one of their own; a couple of Afghans even told me they were surprised when they heard me speak English. Awesome. Now if only my beard would fill out like it's supposed to, I could really be incognito.

Besides this, plans are coming together for research trips to Bamiyan and Panjshir, two of the most beautiful (and secure) areas in all of Afghanistan. At this point, these are the two areas I plan to focus on as case-studies for the work of NATO's Provincial Reconstruction Teams (PRTs). Panjshir's PRT is run by the Americans, while Bamiyan's is run by the New Zealanders; a big part of the study is a comparison of their different methods. Panjshir is a two-three hour drive from here, and is famous as the cradle of Ahmad Shah Massoud's fierce resistance against both the Soviets and the Taliban. Massoud is to Afghanistan what Che Guevara is to Latin America: an ever-present symbol of resistance, more powerful in death than he was alive. I recommend a trip down Wikipedia Lane in honor of this guy, he's got a great story.

And I just found out yesterday that I can get a free flight out to Bamiyan though USAID, probably later this week. This really helps, because Bamiyan would be a long journey by car otherwise. Bamiyan is where Laura Bush visited the remains of the towering Buddha statues before the Paris donors' conference a couple weeks ago, the Buddhas that were ruthlessly blown-up by the Taliban in March 2001. There was a documentary made about this a couple years ago, check this out of you're curious: http://www.giant-buddhas.com/en/synopsis/

Time to start the day. More pictures to come soon.

City Wall Hike

A few days ago I went on a great hike up to the top of one of the highest mountains within the city limits. The mountain's called Sher Darwaza, the ridge goes roughly east-west along the southern edge of downtown. I had been excited to check it out not only for the views from the top, but also because the ridge has the only remaining parts of the original city walls. These city walls, more than ten to fifteen feet thick in parts, were built during at least the 5th century, and maybe even before. I enlisted a couple of friends here to come with me, and also got the director of the institute, Omar, to come along as our all-knowing guide. Omar has an encyclopedic knowledge of Kabul city history, having lived here all his life. He's told stories about having watched events like the 1996 invasion of the city by the Taliban, as well as the first bombings of Operation Enduring Freedom (in October-November 2001), from the very mountain top we were about to hike.

Here's the link to some more pictures of it: http://www.flickr.com/photos/mattve/sets/72157605780035380/

We started at an old historical site called the Bala Hissar, where the British built a humongous fort called the Citadel back in the mid-1800s. The British had three wars with the Afghans during their colonial times, when the Brits tried to expand west and north from India, and there is strong pride around here for having beaten them back soundly each time. There's even greater pride for having 'defeated' the Soviets by 1988, after almost ten years of occupation. While there's no such thing as an ethnically 'Afghan' person, it's military successes like these that have tied the Afghan people together in a collective sense of nationhood. And while some of that feeling broke down during the ethnically-charged civil war of the early 90s, which deeply ingrained the faultlines between Pashtuns, Tajiks, Uzbeks, Hazaras and the many other ethnicities that make up the Afghan people, I think a big part of the resiliency I see around the city today has to do with people here having gotten back a real sense of identity as an Afghan nation. It seems to tie into a psychological strength that comes from everybody going through all the hard times together, as life slowly rebuilds here.

Back to the hike. We walked from the Citadel up to the ridge where the wall begins, passing the ubiquitous mud-brick mountain homes that crawl up the hillsides. We passed little children carrying huge sacks of grain, lavishly decorated cemeteries, and shepherds guiding their sheep along the road. As we left the residential areas and walked towards the top of the mountain, Omar pointed out two important landmarks: red flags and red-painted rocks. Wherever one of these are, that's where there are mines, as determined by a couple of NGOs here who specialize in this stuff. We saw a few of these going up the trail, way off to the sides, but we saw many more white-painted rocks--where mines have been decommissioned and/or removed. Either way, best not to trail-blaze around here.

We got to the start of the massively thick wall, and walked along its side as we made our way to the peak of Sher Darwaza. The view from the top was just as amazing as I had hoped: the entire city was laid out almost 360 degrees around us, and the view was crystal clear and smog-free because we'd gone early in the morning. Omar pointed out landmark after landmark, many of which (like the presidential palace) we didn't recognize; given the security situation here, there's high walls and razor wire all around almost every major landmark as one drives around town, making it impossible to see on the ground what building is actually behind these walls. The most interesting part for me came as Omar pointed out the divisions between city sections that had existed during the height of the civil war here. The entire city had been cut up like a pie between Ahmad Shah Massoud's Tajik militias, Gulbuddin Hekmatyar's Pashtuns militias, and Rashid Dostom's Uzbek militias as they each maneuvered their forces, switched alliances, and collectively shelled the city and its people into a pulp.

Seeing the geographical divisions of the city during the civil war made me realize how fresh the wounds are around here. For instance, last summer me and my brother Todd visited about ten American Civil War sites around the mid-Atlantic while I was interning at the State Department. We'd hear tour guides talk about military strategy, battle tactics, and the personalities of different generals, all of it kind of sepia-toned because our Civil War took place almost 150 years ago. For Afghanistan, their Civil War was fifteen years ago. Wow. All of these battles that decimated Kabul just happened, and they just happened in the context of other devastating wars over the past generation. It's perspective like this that also made me realize how the processes of rebuilding and forgiveness are really going to take time, as they did for the United States.

About the recent headlines, and bigger themes

I thought I'd say a bit about the recent "activity" down near Kandahar, that you may have been reading about in the last week or so. I'm taking specifically about the jailbreak that happened last Friday outside of the Kandahar, and the fighting that went on yesterday and today a little northwest of that city. About a thousand prisoners escaped from a prison after a couple of trucks blew up outside the jail's walls, creating huge exit holes; it's estimated about 400 of these were Taliban members. Yesterday and today, NATO and Afghan forces attacked and pushed back a moderate-sized group of Taliban members (some of whom had been in prison until just recently...) in a strategic area to the north of Kandahar called Arghandab. As it stands now, its seems that the Taliban group that was there before has been dispersed, and the military action seems to have largely ended for now.

I'll say first of all that Kandahar is 300 miles from Kabul; I'm nowhere near the action, and I don't plan to be going down there anytime soon. Southern Afghanistan is really like a different country compared to the northern half. Many areas of the south and south-east are considered the historical heartlands of the Taliban, mixed within larger Pashtun village areas; this makes it hard for Taliban centers to be located and rooted out. Most of the headlines we see on the homefront about violence in Afghanistan come from the southern region, where NATO and Afghan Army forces are trying to "hold" areas where Taliban attacks pop up like Bop-a-Moles from time to time.

Meanwhile, so many population centers in the northern half of the country--Herat, Kabul, Mazar-e Sharif--are progressing with real reconstruction efforts over the past six years. Afghans in these areas haven't had this much (relative) stability since the 1970s, and many new development projects have been apparent as I've travelled around Kabul in the past three weeks. This is the kind of progress that is unflashy, gradual, and doesn't grab attention like news of sporadic bombings. Not that it's not important to report about bombings and unfortunate things like that, but, y'know what I mean.

I do have to say that the jailbreak was really unfortunate, though. The way the Taliban seems to operate, they go for big symbolic attacks to undermine support not only among locals, but also among people in NATO-supporting countries like ours. To make people in Europe, Canada and the US say, "Oh man, we're really losing ground over there, we should probably just get out." No doubt there are persistent insurgency problems in the south, given it's wide rural landscapes (the Taliban thrive in more conservative, rural, undeveloped areas). And the jailbreak last week was shrewdly planned, and it feels like a big step back when you let 400 of these guys back into the surrounding villages. But it seems like the military operation against the Taliban today and yesterday went as well as it could have, even though it's just one step in a long-term process. What's also encouraging is that the Afghan National Army--who had a big hand in today's battles--is widely praised as a ready-to-go, tenacious fighting force (the National Police are generally a different matter, though). Afghanistan just needs a lot more of these ANA guys than the 70,000-80,000 they have at this point, and they seem to be building up their numbers steadily.

Besides that, there's all these interesting geo-strategic angles going on too, many of them having to do with the continued influence of a certain neighboring country to the right of here (...). And the biggest theme of all is that of the "Great Game," as it's been called: that Afghanistan is smack-dab in the middle of Asia, and for thousands of years it's been this critical keystone for anybody trying to gain or maintain influence in Asia. The most unfortunate thing, of course, is that it's always been the Afghan people who've had to bear the brunt of this geo-strategic "game" being played by competing powers across the centuries. It just makes the collective pride and resilience I've seen around here that much more fascinating; that people here continue to rebuild and go on with their lives through all the waves of upheaval. I mean, what else can they--or anyone in this kind of situation--really do otherwise?

Find yourself a city

I've been thinking about what makes a city--comparing a place like Kabul to a place like New York, where I spent the fall. On the surface these two places seem almost totally opposite. One's glossed over with wealth and flashy style, the other seems to have just enough worn infrastructure to keep all its parts moving together. But despite all the apparent differences, both are teeming with life and kinetic energy. Walking around Kabul is a dizzying experience, with the constant barrage of activity swarming around you. Fast-moving cars barely missing each other, people desperately trying to get your attention to buy calling cards or ask for money, street cooks flipping kebab on a stick in the hot afternoon sun. After all the strife this city has seen--70% of it destroyed by constant rocket bombardments during the civil war in the '90s--the unrelenting pace of city life finds a way here, through the sheer will of the people.

It's the same force, the same pace, as one can find in New York; it's just that in New York, the cogs and gears of collective activity fit together more smoothly. I remember walking from the subway station at 42nd and 3rd to my office near the UN thinking, How do 8 million people live on top of each other so harmoniously? The simple answer, I think, is that the people want it to work. They have come there from around the country to take part in the wide array of activities and options that only a city of that size can provide. No matter how many people are crammed onto Manhattan island, New York is a marvel in the amazing amount of things that happen there everyday.

In Kabul, it's the same principle of its inhabitants willing, driving everything to work together. As in New York, thousands of Afghans have converged here from around the country to find opportunities that only the capital city has to offer. And it's even more remarkable here, given the layers of obstacles and challenges that present themselves to the average city-dweller, like power-outtages and the general security problems. I went for a hike to the top of a hill near my area a couple days ago, and looked out across the entire city. I've heard over 3 million people live here, but that it really only has the infrastructure to support 300,000 (by who's standards?). Regardless, life rapidly goes on as people move amongst each other, going where they need to go, in a kind of chaotic harmony.

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In other news, I can't believe I found the NBA Finals in Kabul, Afghanistan. For as excited as I've been to dive into a new culture here, to really immerse myself in a new and different place, my heart sank when I found out a week or so ago that the Lakers and the Celtics have made it to the Finals and I wouldn't get to watch it. Having been in Boston this past half-year, I'll admit I jumped on the Celtics bandwagon--they're a lot of fun to watch. Paul Pierce is ferocious, Ray Allen's a silent killer, and Kevin Garnett is literally insane. Like, clinically. He's also an amazing ballplayer.

Anyway, I was at a bar called La Cantina Monday night. Brace yourself, Kabul has a Mexican restaurant. It's owned by Australians, and it's one of a small handful of well-hidden bars around town. Another place is a replicated British pub (with Guinness on tap, I've heard), another is a swankier French joint called L'Atmosphere--affectionately referred to as 'Latmo'--and another is straight-up BBQ called "Red Hot Sizzlin." But so far I've only been to the Cantina. I walked in to meet a few other 'ex-pats' (people out of their native country) for drinks, and found Game 2 of the Finals on satellite ESPN. I parked my backside on a stool with a couple of other Americans and started watching, with a cold beer in hand, taking it all in with a big smile. Sometimes, the little things from home are so much sweeter abroad.

Then I looked around and saw there were only ex-pats at this bar. It was kind of like reverse culture shock, after feeling like the only Westerner when I've been out shopping and cruising around Kabul with Maiwand and Basir (the two Trust in Education employees). I turned to a guy next to me and asked, "Why are there no Afghans in here?" "Cuz they're not allowed," he says. Turns out, it's illegal for Afghans to be in bars in their own country. Now, I had known that alcohol is forbidden for Muslims--but to make it a national law? In asking further, I found out there's actually a Sin & Vice squad that patrols the city enforcing this rule. It's one of those stark cultural differences that kinda hit me all of a sudden. And for a former bartender who appreciates a fine ale from time to time, it's one of the harder ones to imagine, but I understand where I am.

Another interesting cultural difference: the Aussies in the bar couldn't stand how long a basketball game gets in the final two minutes, when the coaches call endless time-outs to stop the clock, huddle up with their teams and plan for some miracle shot. The Aussies were just dying for these guys to finish so they could go back to watching the Euro Cup. It is kind of interesting how little soccer has caught on in the States, given how fanatical the rest of the world is about it. At one point Monday night, there was 33 seconds left on the clock, and Doc Rivers called for yet another time-out--maybe the third in the space of a theoretical minute on the game clock. "Crickey," groans one Aussie in a pained tone. "It'll be another 45 minutes now."

Conversations with John Dixon

Today has been so windy in Kabul. Usually, the days are calm and invariably sunny until around 4 in the afternoon, when the wind starts blowing steadily for the next few hours. For the almost two weeks I've been here, this pattern has been pretty constant. But this afternoon is especially windy, so much so that a lot of the blue sky above the city has turned off-white from all the dust that's being thrown around.

The director of the research institute I'm staying at left on Monday, and it's a little sad. He's a former Foreign Service officer named John Dixon, an older guy (maybe 75), and a real gentleman. Now, besides me, there's a new younger director (who works here but lives across town), two Afghans who do administrative stuff during the day (Ro and Zafar), and an Afghan family who live on the property and do many things like guard, cook, garden, fix things, generally help out the hapless American (that'd be me). They are the sweetest people, and it's a real incentive to learn Dari because I want to talk even basically with them. There is also a part-time driver here named Wali, he takes me around town when he's here and not busy. If he is busy, I take a cab. Tough life, I know.

Anyway, for my first week and a half here in Kabul, me and John would have these great breakfasts out on the back patio. Hazargol (the father of the Afghan family) would put breakfast out on the patio table a little before 7am, and we would meet at 7 and eat and talk for an hour or so each day. The guy has a real wealth and depth of knowledge, he's been here in this area since the 70s. So he's been through all the upheavals--the Soviets, the mujahedeen, the Taliban, the US with the international community, and now the fledgling Afghan government. That's a lot of management turnover in less than 25 years!

We'd talk about a huge range of things--the many layers of Afghan history, the personalities of assorted Afghan warlords (some are now neighbors of mine), cultural differences between Afghanistan and the US, world politics, US politics. I find I usually have a lot to talk about with Foreign Service officers, often we'll have similar perspectives on the world. And power politics is always interesting, especially when you're talking about Afghanistan--it's been pretty dynamic here through the ages, and especially recently. With the calm morning weather, lots of tea, and fresh Afghan bread and mangos, these conversations were part of an almost meditative start to each day. Kind of like my own personal 'Tuesdays with Morrie.' And even when 7am started to feel like it came earlier and earlier, as I've gotten adjusted to the time here, they were always worth getting up for.

Pictures from 6/5/08

Pictures from shopping around town and the Afghan Contemporary Art Prize event.
For more, check out:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/mattve/sets/72157605473906714/