My trip to Afghanistan
It has been 2 days since I left California with the party of four I am travelling with. We have either been at an airport, on a plane or visiting old town Sultanamet, Istanbul. First went to the old city where we saw the Blue Mosque. It was beautiful inside and out. I had never set foot in a Mosque before; it was extravagant in its beauty. The ornate tile work was everywhere. You could see the devout prostrating, praying or just sitting. It was quite peaceful really. Tourists such as us were looking around with an apparent sense of awe and wonder. When we left the Mosque we wandered from shop to shop, had a wonderful meal and couldn’t resist stopping for Turkish coffee. As we walked, to the left of the town square an old bazaar caught my eye, underfoot there were cobblestone sidewalks and walkways that led through narrow streets, I could smell the salt water in the air. There were a number of well fed cats watching from shop doorways as we passed. Then we left, we Arrived in Afghanistan yesterday evening, Wednesday night Mar 27.
The Crew
There is Asma; she actually started doing this work over 10 years ago. Her love for this beautiful country is always evident. From the minute she set foot on Afghan soil, her excitement and anticipation of seeing the progress of this place where she grew up was overflowing. Her son Hans has some problems, but for the time he is here they seem to be greatly lessened. The Afghan attire he wears proudly, you wouldn’t even know he is an American. I met Asma’s family shortly after we arrived and had a wonderful time watching their happy reunion, they fed us a wonderful traditional meal, swapped stories and we left full each carrying a gift from the family. A lovely tea set any mantle would be happy to display. You would never know that this is a country at war.
Barry is an enigma. This is his third trip here. He and Asma are the only ones to have experienced a pre war Afghanistan, Barry was here in 1973 as a young hippie, and this is his second time coming here with Asma. What a gift. He is originally from New Zealand and is now living in the Bay Area with his wife and 2 children. His Family must be very understanding. He has traveled to over seventy countries on five continents, but he seems to have a soft spot in his heart for the plight of the Afghan people and the natural beauty of the land itself. He has a real appreciation for the simplicity of how structures are built here and its inherent sustainability. As a building contractor, I am sure this adds to the elegance of his work.
Then there is me. I come from a unique and somewhat distorted vantage point far different from my fellow travelers, but I will get to that later.
At the guesthouse where I am staying, the first thing we do every day is sit at the table with all the other guests for a morning meal. The people we met this morning are some of the warmest human rights oriented people I have ever encountered anywhere. One was doing a photography show in Amsterdam after interviewing women here; her husband was filming a documentary on how it was all put together. The news regarding this beautiful country is the same as everywhere else. All bad, she and her husband remarked about how people think they are crazy for embarking on such a project in the same way some of the less informed people in my life have counseled me. Happily, their worries are greatly exaggerated. Another woman I met at breakfast was here seeking orphanages where she could help. She gave up what she was educated in to embark on a journey from her heart. Now she travels to orphanages and holds a job as a teaching assistant in her homeland to support it. This trip is rapidly renewing my faith in human nature.
Day 3
Today we shopped for trees, we purchased ten thousand and that will quicken our pace for the days that follow. At the farm where we purchased the trees, there were workers tending to the plants, their shovels were fabricated by hand and the buildings surrounding the farm were made of clay mixed with straw. There were high walls around narrow streets that were yet unpaved. There were receptacles for catching water when it rained. There was a woman dressed in a blue burka quickly dissappearing into one of the buildings. The rest of the people milling about were men wearing different styles of head dress, some wearing working clothes or Afghan pants with matching shirts which looked similar to hospital scrubs with a suit coat or a vest over the long shirt. Some wore shoes, others sandals. There were several people working on the farm who enjoyed it when Barry pulled out the Polaroid camera and gave out pictures. The children especially loved having their pictures taken. They posed near the plants or horse played smiling and laughing. The only thing that spoiled the moment, at least for me, was the sound of a helicopter overhead. It startled me and that feeling stayed with me . A helecoptor didn’t seem like it had a right to be anywhere near such such a peaceful place. We left shortly after that and went to lunch at one of the oldest restaurants in Kabul. Our driver and our “fixer” stopped to pray after ordering what turned out to be a wonderful meal. We sat in a plastic covered tent on pillows and ate the meal from the carpet in front of us mostly with our hands as that is the custom here. We then left headed to our next destination.
Before we could leave Kabul, we encountered a traffic jam that would put the ones at home to shame. The difference here was that the people were not cussing each other out; nope.....they were helping each other find a better way to go. Of course in our traffic jams bicycles, goats and pedestrians are not part of the madness, but here it is part of the natural rhythm of things. It seems for now there is peace and a chance for people to move themselves and their communities forward. There is no lack of willingness on the part of Afghan society to do just that. There are obvious classes here, but the middle class is thriving and full of energy. I hope that continues. We stopped in town for a couple of items and headed back to the guesthouse. Stopping in town is not like we know it, we were a little more on alert. Our guide took Asma and her son into the crowded shopping area. The driver stayed in the vehicle with the rest of us being very watchful. We went back to the guesthouse when they returned. Many of the roads here are unfinished; we would require a 4 wheel drive to navigate them at home. Here the vehicles and their drivers are used to it are adept at avoiding people, animals pulling carts, and very large ruts in the road. Driving here has its own rhythm and after you start to understand who stops for whom and what has the right of way it doesn’t feel half as crazy as it looks. That is from a passengers perspective, I don’t think I could imagine driving here myself. There is a familiar pecking order to driving that can only fully be understood by those who live here. We did not see a rental car agency; I don’t think there is one, which in itself says something about driving in Kabul.
Later we found out that the traffic was stopped because there were demonstrations by the people for the people regarding a lawless police officer illegally shooting someone. These protests shut down 2 highways, with an ensueing positive response from the ministery. Even Oakland would have been proud. All in all, another good day.
Day 3
Today we went to the Ministry of Agriculture. We were there to inquire on how to get bees to pollinate the plants brought there earlier as well as the ones we are transporting there. Apparently they used to be funded through France to give bee boxes with strong colonies of bees to different villages’. Like many other places in the world, the bee population has had problems due to the war, migration from other countries like Pakistan, globalization etc.. They were very helpful and led us to the Ministry of Agriculture, Irrigation, Livestock, Bee Keeping and Animal Husbandry (ALBKAH) very long name, but helpful organization. The bee boxes and colonies were no longer funded, but if an Afghan villager had the passion to become a beekeeper they offered training needed supplies like scrapers, netting, smokers etc.. He also suggested where to get boxes from 100 to 150 American dollars each. They were enthusiastic about what this industry could bring to a small village and cautioned that not everyone is cut out for this work. So we will be bring that information to the shura (Decisions made by and for the village made by shura of the Muslim community and believe this to be the basis for implementing representative democracy albeit only the men, Asma and I will be the exception tomorrow) If there are those willing to take on the challenge of bee keeping, we will purchase their first colony and see where it leads.
After getting that groundwork laid out for meeting with the shura of each community we went to see how some of the past years planting was doing. First we went to the woman’s garden where I got to see how much work was done there. It was beautiful. Many woman gather there with their children on Fridays and proceeds from the sale of tickets go to the Ministry of Woman’s Affairs. Friday is a day when many women take their daughters to spend time together. There are many trees, roses and other greenery. The feeling of peace is evident within the park and the hustle and bustle of life is left outside the gates. The delicate plants like the roses and some of the trees are surrounded by colorful and decorative fencing. From here, all the reminders that this is a war torn country are left at the entry. After seeing the garden, I purchased the appropriate attire for visiting the outlying villages. Unlike where we are now, a more urban setting, it is better to blend in with the Afghan culture in the outlying communities as some are more conservative in their beliefs. I am looking forward to seeing the pieces that make these small communities and to participate as they receive their trees. There might be some difficulty with the more conservative communities, but I hope I am prepared for the experience.
Day 4
Today we traveled the north Kabul Highway. Firstly, driving here is an awesome experience. Some cars have steering wheels some the left, then there are the horses and buggies and the "tuk tuk" half motorcycle, half truck. There are the occasional MRAV fleets which traverse most roads here at some point to make a showing mostly. The fighting seems to be elsewhere which for the people of Kabul is a good thing. It gives them a chance to rebuild schools and educate their future although in this culture it seems the adults are the important ones, it leaves the future for futures sake. With all the war here. That seems pretty a pretty "normal" response. Today we went to several communities as they are called. These are the communities that in America folks say we shouldnt go. They have elders and Shuras and in this way, these small fledgling communities are moving forward. I find it hard to seperate what I have seen on television and what I am experienceing here. It is a stretch for me to go to these places but I accept it taking the live and let live motto to heart. The people in these communities have struggles but seem happy at least on the surface, I would love to be able to see more into their world, but I am an outsider and that is where I will remain. The people here have long memories for those who have shown their communities kindness. I am not going to list the communities yet, there will be more to fallow on that when we sit for tea with each of them. This trip was the delivery/working trip. Historically in most communities tea with the shura is men only, but they accept accept the females in our group after 10 years of tree planting and assistance seemably as a part of what they must accept in order to care for the families of the community. Even here, purse string holders are important. At least three of the communities are pretty ethnically mixed. This is contrary to much I have heard about these beautiful people. I must keep in mind that in our own country we were given the time and the peace to go through all the movements that make us who we are now, and progress is still very much needed. From freeing the slaves to womans suffrage to the anti war movement and more. I really feel that these things could happen in their time if the growing pains of this beautiful country were not so dramatised to sell news. Sure, it is complicated thanks in a large part to the British and their artificial boundries, and Russia.....I could go on and on to include us, but why?? The people here were made to look like an enemy, and it is only some sent from an affluent few or from a pseudo US friendly neighbor. The point is, from what I see the trouble doesn't originate here, it is delivered via proxy and that is very sad. It seems to me that more pressure should be placed on those delivering the misery and breeding the terror, practally and politically in order for the space for this country to grow in peace. It is important to notethat the new Constotution requires womens comitees in these communiies as well as a parent teacher comitee in the schools. Progress is slow, but it apears steady.
I am no expert, this is only what I am lucky enough to observe as I have been invited to immurse myself into this lovely culture for but a minute.
