A 10 second voice over

This morning I hear a network newscaster report that a bomb exploded in the heart of Kabul killing 4 civilians. The next story was the latest hair style of that awful "American Idol" contestant. Granted I have opinions on each story, but the lack of information coming out of Afghanistan is quite troubling. I know I am in the huge minority, since most Americans do not know anyone who is over there, but I do, and believe I bear some responsibility to introduce you to some regular people.
Manizha is worth knowing. She is an Afghan-American who has lived all her life in Queens, New York. She moved to Kabul about six months ago to launch for a non-profit that protects women. She is well spoken and brave and put a safe life behind her to ensure Afghan women are afforded certain rights (i.e. to be educated, to not be raped, to not be forced in to marriage at age 9, etc.). Well Manizha happened to be in the car right ahead of the attacked police vehicle. She was driving alone. Her tires all blew, the rear window shattered, and blood (other people's) splattered her car. Apart from extreme shock, she is alright. And knowing her, even though just a bit, I bet she will continue to stay put and continue to do the job she set out to. I share this story with you to give you a little more information than the 10 second voiceover you might hear.

re-entry

It has been three weeks now since my return to normalcy – one of those weeks was spent warming up in the central pacific coast of Mexico .. and while a banana daiquiri was no replacement for red wine, it suited my needs nicely.
I now toil in Atlanta, a relatively benign place that has electricity, fine dining, all the red wine I could drink, and tornados …. Reconfirms my stellar ability to choose a location during the worst of its weather season.
I have yet to go to an americanized Afghan restaurant to show off my limited Dari. An ex pat once told me that the first thing he does when he arrives home, is eat at a sushi restaurant, the second is to go to an Afghan one .. he feels a sense of responsibility to speak to the transplanted afghans and tell them how life is like as many of them cannot communicate with their loved ones. This said, his dari is far superior to mine, and I fear I would only irritate people by going through my 20 minute “good morning .. how are you .. I trust Allah is taking care of your body .. thank you thank you” routine

Scar tracker

In my first week in Kabul, I had 5 new burns from poor bukhali lighting. As the weeks wore on, I became quite adept at igniting the little bastard. Positioning the wood in such a way to maximize flamage; lighting with a candle instead of a simple match (you can get your hand further in this way); and using the Afghan version of toilet paper as an accelerant (it is this stretchy paper which is probably not too good for your nether regions, but lights magically nonetheless.) This all said, the total count of bukhali burns is 12. I look at it as a free souvenir ...

Some information for foodies

A normal Afghan lunch will cost about $1.50 per person; an expensive one will cost about $6. If you have a fancy/expensive one, you will normally get: a soda, some soup (lentil puree, dollop of yogurt, and a generous amount of mutton fat), bread, and a mixed platter including grilled chicken and mutton, pilau, wilted salad, mantu (Afghan style dumplings with minced meat and yogurt on top), and chips (potato slices fried in mutton fat). Another typical food (not pictured) is boulanee which is a greasy crepe type dough filled with lentils or potatoes or a spinach-type vegetable. How the boulanee is cooked, depends on where in the country you are: in Kabul and along the eastern side, it is made on a griddle with a lot of grease, towards the interior and along the western side, it is baked more than greased. Whenever tea is served, you are normally offered something sweet to go with it, either a cake or some candy. This might help explain why there is so much tea drinking in Afghanistan (or, at least, why I kept accepting tea when it was offered).

Your daily bread

Bread (or nan) costs about 20 cents. You can buy it on nearly every street, and once made, it is hung by hooks inside the shops walls. The dough is stretched and slapped onto the interior wall of this clay oven/fire pit contraption which gives it its elongated shape When you buy it, the bread maker will take it off its hook, and put it on a clay buchali-type oven to warm it. This bread is fantastic when warmed. The bread shops are basically just store fronts (or perhaps even the front rooms of the people’s homes), and the choices are: long shape, round shape, and (only in certain places) with seeds. Each morning I will see men on bicycles bringing back stacks of breads to their families, or boys carrying them wrapped in papers to the local restaurants. The bread shop storefronts are local meeting and gossiping places, the way barber shops typically are/were in the US.

The truth about nuts

There is a lot of nut and dried fruit eating here. In fact, dried fruit producing is a viable way to earn a living (especially for women since it can be done at home). At the office, the staff likes to snack on bowls of dried chickpeas (or something like it) mixed with raisins, or other dried items like figs or dates. But here is what I have learned about nuts: in the wintertime, you should eat nuts because it keeps the body warm. In the summer, you should avoid nuts, because they will give you pimples. Now I have been eating a lot of nuts and still haven’t gotten any warmer; I hope that means I am not in store for a pimply summer!

I guess it can be a religious experience ...

Every day I would see men kneeling against the wall outside of my office window. The wall is to the west, so I had assumed that it had to do with prayer. The wall is actually a toilet wall and since men here squat when they use the loo, what I thought was them praying, is actually them peeing. There aren’t any signs to indicate that it’s a good spot to pee, I think that it is advertised by word of mouth.

Guess who's coming to tea

Her Excellency, Minister Ghandafar, requested my presence to give me some presents. She has been trilled with how the new Directorate is coming together and wanted to show her appreciation; it is common in Afghanistan to give gifts for the slightest of things. I received a carving of Afghanistan with the country’s flag intertwined with the American flag. The thing weighs a ton! I also got a felt, heart-shaped box with lapis (the country’s gemstone) jewelry. I thanked her for opening her house to me and I offered to host her for tea in my house should she ever make it to NYC. On the way out, her senior advisor told me that I needed to give him all my information as they are, in fact, planning a trip to the US soon. Uh oh.

Some lessons learned

If you don’t ask for something, the chances of you getting what you want are 0%. If you ask for it from the Director of the Department that handles said request, the chances of you getting it are 5%. If you want even the smallest thing done; it requires an official letter. Even if you don’t think you need an official letter, you do. Don’t sit too close to the window when you are in a car; the bumpy roads will knock you against that window and it will hurt. That flower you are admiring … it is fake, so don’t bother testing. Oh, and the most important lesson: don’t use the squat toilets if no one else is using them - there is a good reason for it.

Thrill Ride

I experienced a first in Kabul – I took an elevator ride! There is a new ex pat “rooftop” lounge in one of the hotels and by rooftop I mean the 7th floor. Once my fawning over the electricity stopped, so did the elevator! There I was, trapped in the dark, with a voice beckoning to me from the elevator intercom. The problem was that it was all in Dari and for all I knew I was being told to “get down get down the elevator is about to plummet!” I started to laugh (funny how fear will do that to you) and kept repeating “hello, how are you .. hello, how are you” in my best Dari. It was all of ten minutes (feeling more like hours) before the electricity was back on and the doors opened. I walked the rest of the way up. ((the photo was taken against the mirrored wall of the elevator .. I was in total darkness which will explain why it is not some of my best photographic work)).

Ashura

For all of the build up and the security warnings about staying away from certain Shi’a zones (I live in the middle of one), the day was quiet. The occasional low flying aircraft buzzing overhead, the louder than usual calls to prayer, the waving of the Shi’a flag were common sights and sounds, but otherwise the day was marked by bright sunshine and a group walk to Kabul Coffee House for lunch (4 blocks away .. the girls all shrouded). The din of the “spring offensive” does put a damper on the warming weather, but I’m excited by the prospect that we might actually have running water again soon! As adept as I am getting at scoop showers, I’m looking forward to not having to work as hard to get clean.

Not a banner year ...

To understand the challenges faced with the launch of the Media & Communications Directorate, is to understand the type of people who used to run the Ministry's “image". Last year for International Women’s Day, banners were written with a message designed to empower women. These banners were paid for by donors (what we call the government and NGOs who assist in funding) … anyhow the man in charge with Ministry PR changed the banners at the last minute without notifying anyone. On International Women’s Day, banners were hung with the message “A woman’s virginity is the jewel in he husband’s crown.” People were outraged .. soon after the Minister was ousted (though told that there was no relation to the events) …but, and here’s the kicker, the man responsible for the banner change is still in place and still doing the job he couldn’t do. This year, that same man suggested the Afghan proverb of “A woman’s silence means her consent” Even in America, if a friend of the president fails so obviously in their job, they get fired .. eventually.

Are you chicken?

We had a visitor to the office; a French woman who is making a documentary on Afghan women. She came at the conclusion of the staff’s English lesson, and I introduced her to the group as “so and so from France who is here making a documentary.” Harkening back to their first English lesson when they were all animals, I said to the staff that she would have come in time for their English lesson, but she didn’t want to be a chicken. (insert a roomful of giggles here). One of the staff members (who believes their English to be far superior than that of her colleagues) turned to the visitor and asked “are you from Chicken or from France?” I assume Chicken is next to Turkey.

Spring offensive

We keep hearing about the spring offensive that the Taliban is readying to launch. People want the snow to stop and the weather to warm, but with every day the degree notches up, the closer we get to the threatened offensive. I have never seen so many people conflicted about the weather’s changing pattern (save for Al Gore). The plus side to the warming weather is the streets get very muddy. The goopy kind of mud. The chances of someone being able to run in to a crowd with a bomb is practically nil. There is no running through Kabul mud (and there is no getting it off either!).

Doughnut aid

There is a small café on the outskirts of Kabul in the area called Karte-sei I didn’t see any Krispy Kreme doughnuts for sale, but the staff were big supporters (that or they received an “aid package” full of the paper hats.)

This is no chicken dance

The religious observance known as Ashura is nearly upon us. If you are Shi'a (and that’s roughly 10 % of the population, with Sunni making up the rest), this is a very serious time of year .. it is the time when the Prophet Mohammed’s grandson Hussain was killed. For Shi'as, they mark this 10 day period with prayer and self flagellation. On the 10th day, the observances spill out of the mosques and in to the streets. There has been violence on this day in years past when gawkers (or non-Shi'as) make fun or ogle them during the flagellation. Now that you are up to speed on Ashura, I can explain the dance. My intrepid interpreter is Shi'a. On a recent afternoon, he began singing ; a very sweet sounding tune in a very high key. I was impressed by his ability, and to spur him on (and show him I was a fan), I started faux-dancing. Since I was still in my chair, I moved a little to the left and little to the right, all while moving my hands and arms (the way you would if you had maracas). Everyone in the office stared at me. Their eyes were wide, their mouths were open .. all in that “wow! You’re something special!” kind of way … it turns out the song being sung was the main song of Ashura, and I was getting stared at by my staff because the little seated dance move I was doing with my arms looked like I was whipping myself (if you try this move the way I have explained .. move your arms and turn side to side, you’ll see what I mean .. trust me). So here is this very important day where the key is to not make fun of people whipping themselves, and what do I do? I dance. Kind of. Thankfully I found the error of my ways before Ashura ..since doing this same supportive dance could have lead to an international incident.

I don't know what is worse ...

... getting an email like the below, or having to figure out what all the acronyms are!
(fyi #1: Laghman Province borders Kabul)
(fyi #2: RCIED stands for Remote Controlled Improvised Explosive Device)

1. ANSO EAST - INCIDENT REPORT –RCIED Found–Laghman Province, Mehtarlam District, Mehtarlam City, Behind the Women Affairs Department,

Location: Laghman Province, Mehtarlam District, Mehtarlam City, Behind the Women Affairs Department

Incident type: RCIED Found, Date/Time: 24th January 2007 1015hrs, Report status: Confirmed

Information: Information received indicated that ANP discovered an RCIED packed in a bag and placed behind the women affairs department building in Mehtarlam city. Further information received indicated that the area was cordoned off by ANP while an ISAF EOD team defused the device. A controlled explosion was carried out on the device at 1315hrs with no injuries reported. No arrest has been made in connection to the incident thus far; however a police investigation is ongoing in the area.

Casualties: Nil, Arrest: Nil

Assessment: The ER has experienced an upsurge in IED activity and incidents of this nature can be expected in the future.

Advisory: ANSO east strongly advises NGOs to adopt a low profile while deploying staff to the above mentioned district.

Let me hear your body talk

This has nothing to do with that Oliva Newton John relic .. this is about how in Kabul, people aren’t afraid or embarrassed to let their bodies talk. At first I thought it was reserved for burping, but then I saw/heard it was no holds bar when it came to other sounds. For a country full of bean eaters, it can be quite a noisy place after lunch, and there is no hint of shame. It isn’t done with pride either .. it is more a fact of life. It is actually quite liberating, once you get over the oddness of it happening at meetings and you are the only one giggling.

The Hunt for Red .. Wine

I always thought it would have been cool to have lived through Prohibition.. I loved the idea of a whole underground world. A world full of secret revellers and real entrepreneurs (and yes, a few mobsters thrown in for good measure). I can now say, unequivocally, that prohibition sucks. The ex-pat community is up in arms over the lack of red wine and if you happen to stumble across a bottle, it is something you want t keep to yourself rather than share (and that’s not a fun party). The way liquor is procured here is either through an Embassy contact (and from what I hear, it is the Embassies who are to blame for the red wine shortage ..let’s just say foreign relations are made over hearty cabernets and not fume blancs or an “in” with someone who runs a restaurants. Yes, while most people pick up food for carry out, all over Kabul there are liquor bottles hidden in doggie bags! The shortage of the more desirable grape drink is a hot topic at any ex-pat gathering .. it tops even comments about the weather. “Did you hear so and so has a red wine connection?” “Really .. who is it?” “So and so won’t say.” “Bitch!” Yes friendships are made over a bottle of red and many a friendship has been broken as well. I imagine if I stayed a few more months, I would turn in to one of those people .. for me, I still enjoy the hunt of it.

My virtual refrigerator door

My staff issued their first press release today. The statement is a condemnation of the murders of two women (one, a policewoman who was mutilated by an alleged member of the Taliban, the other, a midwife, who was allegedly murdered by her husband), and I am very proud of them. The writing is stilted, they added this weird sentence about how "women are the most fragile community of Afghanistan who have no authority to protect themselves, so we see violence against them,"
and it took them over a day to get it together, but like a proud parent who puts their child’s scribbles on the refrigerator door, I want to frame their first statement. Who knows whether any press will actually pick it up, but at least they finally tried to be proactive.