Snapshots of Kabul Life

Painting in Kabul should be considered a sport. Foresight is thrown out the window, preparations are completely neglected, and only the strongest survive. The plan to renovate what was once a bedroom (with pink walls and golden-laced curtains, in true Afghan style) into the main office for the HIV Project started with high hopes. We would tape off corners and light switches; we would cover all furniture with plastic; this would be (in my mind) order and a success! The rumors of the paint escapade started to fly, and soon the room was full of visitors (who soon became paint advisers). The brushes were tossed from hand to hand and expressions of "opinion" were only made with bold stokes on the wall. A bit shell-shocked, I watch the whole thing unfold...and by the end, I joined the crowd...painting over bugs, light switches, and anything that crossed my path.
Surprisingly, though, the outcome was quite a success. "Slate blue" was the chosen color, and we've now been requested to organize similar renovations across the compound.
The photo below is of Dr. Sibghatullah, my colleague, and I glowing with success.


I've had the great fortune of meeting up with current University of Richmond students (where I went for undergrad) who live and are from Afghanistan. The picture below is with Muska and her younger sister at their house in Kabul. It was a lovely afternoon and their hospitality (in true Afghan style) was overwhelming. Their uncle was visiting from Australia (where he has lived for the past 25+ years), and it was fascinating getting his perspective on the changes Afghanistan has seen during these past decades. While driving me back to my office he remarked that when he left Kabul burqas were seldom if ever seen in Kabul, yet now a majority of women in Kabul wear these head-to-toe coverings.


I couldn't exactly tell you what I'm doing in this photo...but just in the slightest chance you think my time is spent only on important matters, clearly it isn't.

Titanic and Traffic

**Driving around Kabul: Check out the Kabul-style skyscraper outside.

It's hard to truly understand the waves of influence of James Cameron's "Titanic" (ok...bad joke.) It could be the Leonardo DiCaprio hair swoop (officially banned under the Taliban after the fad swept through the country) or Afghans' dedicated love of Celine Dion, but for whatever reason the love for Titanic in this country will go on. (Alright...I'm now officially done with the poor jokes.) The newest effect comes in the form of an ice-cream truck. The small carts which stroll around the city selling ice-cream used to play a mix of "Fur Elise" and "Happy Birthday", but have since converted to "My heart will go on."! It took a few versus and a smattering of choruses before I was convinced, but yes the old and hunched Afghan passes his work day to the tune of Celine Dion.

A first in Kabul:
I was STOPPED at a traffic light today. I saw not one, but FIVE traffic lights in the 4-way stop (you do the math), three of which were functioning. It was nearly as if time stopped; there was a moment of order on the roads. This, of course, was followed by my driver opting out of the U-turn option after seeing the bank was on the other side of the road, and making a b-line in the wrong lane of traffic for the remaining 1.5 blocks or so. So much for order...


**The first traffic light I saw in Kabul. 4+ have been added within the last month or so (that I'm aware of).



**Around the block from my house. Oh the lovely walls and razor wire of Kabul.



**Just in case you wanted to know where you can buy fried chicken and burgers in Kabul. This shop is just a few blocks away from my house (though for many reasons I haven't tried its cuisine.)

Kabul in the news

Hello all...

As many of you may have read, there was a bomb today outside of the Indian Embassy in Kabul. The numbers will change, but as of now the reports say 40 died and 100+ were wounded. This entry will be brief, but I wanted you to know that I was home and safe when the explosion occurred.

To be honest, this has not been an encouraging week. The violent deaths experienced (primarily by Afghans) far extend "terrorist" bombs which reach headline news. Just yesterday, an American air strike killed 27 civilians attending a wedding party in Nangahar, a majority of which were women and children. The bride was among the victims.

Comparing deaths and pain is never particularly helpful, and is definitely not my point. But these horrible tragedies do make me wonder that we need to think more creatively about peace in Afghanistan. These issues are difficult and it is easy to point fingers and declare "right and wrong" and proclaim "evil" versus "good." In Afghanistan, the lines are not clear. When talking about peace, a favorite writer of mine Thomas Merton requests the individual first to discover our own tendencies toward evil and destruction and recognize the confusion in that process before racing out to blame and chose evil around us.

When an Afghan friend of mine Cobra heard the news she ran out to me, eyes welled with tears and cried, "This is not my Afghanistan. No, this is not good." My guess is she has been searching for her Afghanistan for a long time. I hope to search for this for her as well, in the small small ways I can.

Peace to you....

Andrea

Kabul Embarkation: Take 4

Although it marked the end of my Junication (or June vacation), the day started off well; I was informed my seating assignment for LAX-JFK leg (flight # 2 out of 4 to Kabul) was “Economy Plus.” Well, I now type disgruntled from row 26, which should be more accurately advertised for it’s flavorful whiffs from the bathroom which my ‘economy plus’ seat sits precariously close to.

The past three weeks in the US of A have been good, and a whirlwind. My friends Jen and Aaron had a beautiful wedding overlooking the coast just north of Santa Barbara;

(Photo: My mother and me at the wedding)

Aunts, uncles, cousins, siblings, and grandparents alike convened to celebrate graduations, birthdays, and anniversaries in Northern California. Days later we celebrated my mother’s birthday in style back in Santa Barbara with Wii tennis matches which left me sore for days.

(Photo: My father and me sitting in the Stanford bleachers for Paul's graduation!)

More family flew down from Seattle to part with the rain and connect with great aunts and uncles in town from North Carolina, and I added a trip to Colorado to visit more family as well as my roommate from college, Liz (who just got married…CONGRATULATIONS!).

(Photo: My cousin Becca and me in Estes Park, CO)

The days were full, but good. It was good to be reminded of the love I come from, and how so many people have influenced who I am.

I think I successfully transitioned into vacation-mode, just soon enough for my Kabul return to be quickly approaching. Regardless, I look forward to returning and continuing this season of work. My guess is I’ll be overwhelmed with work over the next few weeks, but things always settle after a while. I left Kabul with Spring defending it’s territory over Summer, but will now likely return to a much hotter Kabul. I’ve been notified that my office is moving to the rooftop (in the same room, ironically, that I lived for part of last year) so I’m guessing the heat will provide a daily combative challenge.

Somewhere over Pakistan

It has been a while.

I’m somewhere over Pakistan, en route to Delhi, but the clouds are persistent and the layers up layers of dust make me shrug, thinking I haven’t quite left Kabul.

Perhaps it’s my incurable fear of flying, or the fact that I insist on listening to melancholy music, but flights often provide needed time for reflection. It’s not an obvious formula, however, as the man behind me hasn’t stopped belting Bollywood songs since we departed (and yes, he appears tone-deaf), the flight attendant is on her second round of spraying “federally approved”, though precariously pungent aerosol with a hint of jasmine down the isles, and the safety instructions branded on equipment is, disconcertingly, written in Spanish, or perhaps even Portuguese…but regardless, I sit with time for reflection.

It has been a while.

Winter in Kabul was long. In the absence of central heating and I guess more importantly, electricity, we sat through the winter months close to bukharis (or wood burning stoves). In the first weeks of winter, mornings presented an impossible challenge to get out of my sleeping bag, placed under a down comforter, topped with an enormous fur pelt, patched together with more animals than I like to admit (puts my “vegetarianism” into question, no?) and attempt the dash to Anna’s room where coffee would await. Security declined in winter as well, which is unusual. The Taliban increased their offense, but things quieted after a while.




Anna and Steve (my dear friends from years ago, who both live in Kabul) decided to marry…so we all toppled to South Africa to participate in their covenant. It was a needed break, on many accounts. The couple wed in Cape Town, and the combination of the physical beauty of the place with the recognition of authentic love between people was truly a gift. I extended my time in South Africa to travel…I made it to Drakensburg, a mountain range which borders Lesotho, and was silenced by its beauty. It was good to spend time outside, to walk freely, and to see women carry about their daily lives with a sense of autonomy and independence.





The wedding vacation took nearly four weeks in total, and I returned to Kabul only briefly before moving to Pakistan for a short spell. I spent the following six weeks working for a fabulous organization that aims to reestablish the healthcare system in two earthquake affected districts in northern Pakistan. My job was primarily to help them write a policy paper, which looked at rethinking the government’s plan for facility reconstruction in a way that would better improve the availability of quality healthcare. My time in Pakistan allowed for a bit of travel, up north to Mansehra, and down south to the vastness of rural Punjab. It was a fascinating time to be there, with the newly reelected government. All had an opinion to share, and the country rushed with anticipation.

While in Pakistan, I decided to take another position with Johns Hopkins in Kabul. I’m consequently now working on a project with the National AIDS Control Program which attempts to set up a national HIV surveillance system that the government can use for years to come. We are only at preliminary stages, but the process has been absolutely fascinating. I have been struck by the dedication of NGOs whom have devoted their time to marginalized groups such as injecting drug users and sex workers, before it has officially hit the government’s radar. This process will be challenging, but I’m honored to be a part of it.

Back to the plane…I am on my way home. A dear friend, Jen Higa for those of you who know her, is marrying Aaron Corey in a few short days. They are phenomenal people, and even better together, so I am more than thankful to be able to stand with them in a few days in celebration. I look forward to this break, and to spend time with so many people I love.

It’s funny flying home, nearly a year after I departed for Afghanistan. I fly home with similar questions that I held when I left. I continue to aspire to participate in issues I believe in; I continue to seek relationships that are meaningful and that refine our character; and I continue to seek to maintain a childlike wonder and hope for the world. And through this, in many ways, life, and our participation in it, seems increasingly confusing. But the questions continue to be worthwhile.

I was asked to read a Sabbath prayer at Steve and Anna’s wedding, whose meaning grows with time.

Days pass and the years vanish, and we walk sightless among miracles.
Lord, fill our eyes with seeing and our minds with knowing.
Let there be moments when your presence, like lightening, illuminates the darkness in which we walk.
And we, clay touched by God, will reach out for holiness and proclaim,
How filled with holiness is this place, yet we did not know it!
Blessed be the holy one, the eternal god.

In search of seeing and knowing….

Till soon (I promise this time)
Andrea

P.S. I may have the words for the prayer a bit off, so I ask for forgiveness from the unknown author if I've remembered it wrong.

The case of the overdue...

Hello dear friends and family...

I have reached an all-time record of blogg-negligence. And as negligence goes, the longer it is extended the more difficult it is to face. Anyhow, I'm going to try and commit to shorter, more frequent updates from here on out (enshallah).

I've been back in Kabul now for over a month, and after a few weeks of strange transition (wondering why I had left the land of freedom and beaches to that of curfews, travel restrictions, dust, and a rudely approaching winter) I have now settled back into a life in which in I feel authentic, and privileged to be a part of.




Work has continued on well with the Ministry of Health, combining old projects with a smattering of new ones. Meanwhile, I'm attempting to write my Master's thesis throughout the mayhem of work (slightly poor planning on my part). I'm writing my thesis (technically closer to a long paper, as it doesn't require original research) on using what we know about high-risk groups to HIV transmission in Afghanistan to postulate the extent of an HIV epidemic in Afghanistan, and how that should guide national surveillance and program efforts. Though currently only around 200-300 cases have been reported, a estimate of closer to 2,000-3,000 is thought to be HIV positive. So many days pass thinking up creative ways to collect information on injecting drug users, commercial sex workers, truckers, returning refugees, migrant workers, and MSM (men who have sex with men) in Afghanistan...which can be quite the tricky task.




Upon my return, I've started Dari (the Afghan version of Farsi...or, as Afghans would say, the basis for Iran's Farsi) which has been a delight. I appreciate the doors it has opened and the conversations and perspectives I'm able to have and hear because of it. I've made a habit of practicing Dari during our lunchtime break, sitting in the sun to soak up what remains warm in Kabul. In practicing simple questions like "where were you born?; when were you born?; do you live in the same house that you were born in?" and others taught during my Sunday lesson, I turned to my Afghan colleague to practice the question "When is your birthday?" to which he replied (in English), "We have more pressing issues in Afghanistan." Hmmm...so much for a lighthearted language practice.

The photos above are from a few Kabul excursions:
1. Kargah Dam, just outside the city 30 minutes or so
2. Istalif, a village about an hour and a half outside of Kabul known for it's traditional craft of pottery.
3. Babur's garden, inside Kabul. They say Kabul has the highest concentration of airborne fecal mater in the world. The haze in the background may give evidence to such.


Post Script. More substantive thought is promised in future updates. But I feared that if I didn't write today, it would simply never happen.

Thanks for listening...

Considering it's been a month...again

Thought I'd give a short update:

I left Kabul at the beginning of September to enjoy nearly a months long vacation in the states. I've spent most of in in California, but also had the chance to visit my wonderful sister, brother-in-law, and miniature zoo (in their house...yes) just this past week.

I've decided to return to Kabul for at least the fall to finish our project with the Ministry of Public Health as well as to potentially look into other contracts.

Will be giving a more detailed update soon...but wanted to at least provide a "where in the world ARE you?" update and hello.

Hope you are well...