Fall in Afghanistan

I wrote the other day that I've never lived in a place that I both loved so deeply and wanted to escape. And that luckily, it's more love, for the beauty of the place and the character of the people. 

I live in a place where it is inappropriate for a woman to walk alone outside her village.  Where doing so puts her at risk of harassment and accusations.  But where inside the village, three girls pack themselves onto a donkey, girls and boys shepherd together, women drag cows around by ropes, harvest wheat, potato, and alfalfa, skin trees, learn to read and write.

I live in a place where families are affectionate and loving with children.  Kids cuddle up to weathered men in beards and turbans during meetings.  Toddlers are often the center of attention.  Women nurse in front of me.  Babies are wrapped in layer after layer to keep them warm and comforted, their eyes painted with kol, and special necklaces put around their necks for good fortune.

When I visit a village for the first time, men may ignore me entirely during the initial greeting but will then welcome me to the house, give us tea and bread and yogurt, look me in the eye, ask and answer questions, and when it’s time to go, insist that we stay the night.  One man has twice dug carrots and Jerusalem artichokes from his garden as a send off gift.  Even during Ramadan, as a traveler I was offered sheep milk with sugar in every village.

In one village where over half the population have left for cities or other countries, an elder told me that money is like a miracle, like it has magical powers.  He explains how with money you can fly through the sky.  Pretty miraculous when you think about it.  In another village, sharecroppers explain how they live there at the whim of the landowners and that at any time they could end up like a kite cut from its string.

When I returned after being away for two months, the news coming out of the country had been particularly bad and I flew into the dusty smog of Kabul with some sense of dread and pessimism.  And the news hasn’t really improved, fraudulent elections, kidnappings, corruption, Karzai crying on tv about the state of the country, the terrible impacts of war.  But I also arrived to good friends, a sweet new healthy baby in my adopted family, Eid celebrations, the news that my friend Freshta is very likely to have the chance to go to university in the US, and the life of this place that just keeps going in the face of everything.  My pessimism was replaced with awe for all that this place is and bits of hope that come from everyday interactions, smiles, perseverance, and integrity. 

It’s fall time, harvest is everywhere.  Piles of wheat and alfalfa being processed for storage.  Donkeys and cows walking circle after circle after circle to compress the fodder or begin the process of wheat threshing.  Kids wander around with fat-tailed sheep trying to get them as fat as possible to survive long winter months which people say are still long and cold even though they get less than half the snow that they used to.  I am as impressed as ever at the way people get by in this beautiful but tough landscape with extraordinarily limited external resources. Wheat for bread, sheep for milk, wool, and selling, mud for houses, and prayer for Allah. These are the staples.

I live along the Helmand river (a canoe would be amazing here).  The Koh-e-Baba mountains in the north hold the occasional clouds and already have their first snow.  There was a hint of a rainbow today after an unseasonal thunderstorm.  I work with wonderful people, colleagues and people in rural villages alike.  People depend on pastures and are excited about the possibility of support to work towards restoration and sustainable management.  I drink from the well, bathe from a bucket, share a two latrines with a couple other women and twenty men.  We live together, eat bread and rice, beans and potatoes, sheep, and drink tea.

Late Spring Update

Afghanistan is a country at war with large issues of poverty, growing land degradation, and weak governance. The country has seen little stability in the past three decades and war continues to impact people every day. The decades of conflict have resulted in dramatic drops in human, social, and economic indicators through the country. Afghanistan currently ranks 181 out of 182 countries on the human development index, far lower than any of its neighbors. Communities experience repeated conflict-induced displacement and destruction of homes and fields. War has led many of those who are able, including large numbers of educated people, to leave. It is estimated that most Afghans are suffering from some level of stress disorder as a result of the trauma and loss of war. Using any measure of poverty, Afghans rank among the poorest in the world. Life expectancy is 43 years old, infant mortality is 129 per 1000 live births, 31% are food-insecure, literacy is 28%, and 42% live below the cost of basic needs poverty line. The country has poor health, education, and nutritional status; weak social protection systems; and vast gender inequalities. There is a high vulnerability to external shocks such as drought and even the death of a family member.

All of this raises a number of questions like in a place where almost everyone is poor, what is poverty? What can accomplish poverty alleviation and development? What does peace-building look like?

Reading through the Afghanistan national development strategy today, I came across these quotes from Afghans defining poverty.

The poor are the ones with an empty stomach; the poor are the ones who do not have enough milk to make yogurt; the poor can’t plan the future and can’t foresee what will happen tomorrow. One man in Bamyan province said, the poor are the ones who can be sick today and be dead the next day.

In Afghanistan eating means growing your food for most of the population.  In Bamyan, bread and dairy products account for the majority of food. In late spring, the wheat is getting tall and gaining seed heads. Working together, groups of women are out weeding fields, bringing the weeds home in overflowing baskets balanced on their heads to feed precious sheep and cows. Men are out moving more dirt onto the potato mounds. The cash crop. One group woke me up at 4:30 this morning smacking their shovels around, the tool of choice here. It was hard to complain.

Yesterday, walking through the fields to my office, groups of people working all over, I came across a boy lying on his back, perfecting still, tucked in the furrow between two rows of potatoes, looking at the sky.

Ski Bamiyan

We've been having an incredible time skiing the Koh-e-Baba and working with communities and aspiring tour guides on the potential for future ski tourism here.  Spring is now in full swing now, lots of ploughing and planting, and budding leaves, but still good snow in the mountains.  Check out some Bamiyan ski photos in the slide show (FYI- if you click on the pics to the right they should get bigger).  I'm also continuing with UNEP and Chad has taken another consultancy with AKF developing curriculum for the new Sustainable Land Management Institute, a cooperative effort between NGOs and Bamiyan University.  The problem with this other work is it's getting in the way of skiing, something I know you can appreciate.  Photos include lots of skiing, community mapping to identify place names, explaining skiing to communities, kids trying skiing, researching routes (GPS, lots of notes), a big avalanche that closed a local road for 3 weeks (and that people dug out with shovels), kids and their sleds (kids love sledding, called yakh molak, and we've joined in a few times), skis that we had made here in the bazaar by local carpenters, the New Year ski competition which attracted 200-300 folks along with the one Afghan family that has skied consistently for the last 40 years, a pair of this family's skis from the 60s, migrating geese, and a 3-day ski trip to some great terrain including small but impressive glaciers.  We're planning a few more multi-day trips for the spring that we hope will include donkey support.  We loaded up donkeys with skis for the first time last week to head back to snow (spring melt at lower elevations now), which was great.  We've had some good publicity from Afg radio and TV as well as German radio and print, and last week, the UK Guardian.  Get your calendars out for your 2011 Bamiyan ski vacation.  Or maybe 2015.

Bamiyan Winter

Winter in Bamiyan has brought snow, then mud, then snow, leaking roofs (more mud in the mud house), great days in the mountains, and some transitions for us.  After a year and a half with CRS (including nine months in Afg), Chad left the organization.  Despite great appreciation for the programs and his colleagues, the management-heavy job was not a good fit for him.  We made the decision in early November to give CRS plenty of time to plan ahead.  February 15 was Chad’s last day at CRS as well as the last day of my contract with the UN Environment Program (UNEP).  The next day we moved across town from the CRS house to an Aga Khan Foundation (AKF) house and began a joint consultancy working with the AKF tourism program.  The aim of the consultancy is to develop winter tourism opportunities and to train members of the newly established Bamiyan Tourism Association. 

As one of the most peaceful areas of the country, there is hope that reviving tourism here can bring further stability and economic opportunity in the coming years.  As we’ve begun to meet with people in remote mountain villages, it’s been amazing to hear them recount stories of tourists visiting these places over 30 years ago before the Russian invasion and subsequent years of conflict.  In a country that has so many needs and continued instability, we’ve questioned the appropriateness of promoting tourism.  In a discussion with a friend who is the regional public health advisor, I mentioned that this work is “not exactly saving lives.”  His encouraging response was that even the development of tourism is about saving lives since anything that promotes stability and opportunity here does just that.

As we explore Bamiyan through our new work, we’re increasingly impressed with the mountains and the people.  The mountains have incredible hiking, climbing, skiing, and snowshoeing terrain and are beautiful and accessible.  And the people living in these mountain villages are industrious, largely self-sufficient, kind, and welcoming.  From where the winter road access finishes, we’ve traveled (primarily on skis) 30 minutes to two hours to reach snowed-in villages. When we arrive we’re offered tea and lots of curious looks.  Yesterday, as we tried to leave the village to head deeper into the mountains, we were turned back by an adamant group of elders explaining to us in mime (really great) and Dari that the avalanche danger was too high for us to go further.  We decided not to argue with them.  Avalanches riddled the valley coming all the way down to the village and last month they’d lost eight sheep, two donkeys, and a cow in an avalanche right next to a house.  We’re quickly learning the snow and avalanche conditions here and we continue to be cautious. 

UNEP asked me to extend my contract so I’m continuing to work part-time with them researching aspects of local natural resource management traditions, land tenure arrangements, and options for a future inhabited protected area (IUCN Category V) in the Koh-e-Baba.  We both really enjoy our colleagues at AKF and UNEP and, although it was sad to say goodbye to CRS folks, we now have fun running into them almost every day.  Having now worked with three organizations here in small-town Bamiyan, we know a fair number of people who we see in the neighborhood and bazaar; we’re starting to feel just a little bit local. 

Check out some Bamiyan winter highlights in the pics here including: our airport coffee shop, sledding in our neighborhood, a community school room, CRS farewell, our new office, visiting the Red City, a community meeting on the mosque roof, shoveling snow off of mud roofs, old Russian weaponry, skiing, and more.

We miss you and can’t wait to be in Montana in June.

Christmas and New Year Letter to You

To our really wonderful friends and family,

Two thousand nine has been yet another big year for the Dear/Ashley duo.  We made it through our first year of marriage, sadly moved away from a beautiful island nation, and moved to a nation at war wand that ranks 181 out of 182 countries on the Human Development Index (at least we’re ahead of Somalia).  

We’re often amazed at our everyday life, the people we meet and the stories we hear.  It can also be pretty amusing.  Chad was recently asked some interesting questions at work including, “When was Jesus born?  Is this disputed by different Christian factions?  Why isn’t Christmas your new year?”  “Why then is your new year January 1?” (Keep in mind that these questions are from people who operate on two calendars:  one the Persian solar calendar when new year is the spring equinox, the other the Islamic lunar calendar when new year is the holy month of Muharram).   Needless to say, these questions forced Chad to repeatedly reference Wikipedia. 

In a way, it seems like our year began when we arrived in Afghanistan.  Pre- and post-Afghanistan has been a big landmark in the year and in our lives.  But the beginning of 2009 was also memorable.  It included an ultimate frisbee tournament in Bali where we played for East Timor in its first tourney appearance; a visit to Timor by Laurie’s folks who managed to climb the country’s tallest peak, snorkel at the eastern tip of the island, volunteer at an orphanage and much more; beautiful days snorkeling, scuba diving, and hiking around Timor; and sad goodbyes to great people, stunning sunsets, and a fascinating tropical island.  We left Timor for Missoula and celebrated Chad’s birthday for 39 hours en route (24 hours plus the 15 hour time difference) between Singapore, Japan, Seattle, and finally Missoula where we had lemon cake. 

In Missoula, we spent a blissful few weeks in May and June where we got to ski in the mountains, float rivers, see wonderful friends, and have a BBQ almost every night.  On the way to Afg we visited DC and Pennsylvania (firsts for Laurie).  Highlights included the Einstein Memorial in DC, Little League baseball in Penn, and seeing Chad’s family from nieces and nephews to great uncle Chick.  From DC we flew to Dubai and then to Kabul where we spent a few (metaphorical) shell-shocked days before traveling to Ghor, Hirat, and Bamiyan.  Bamiyan has been an incredible place to land.  The 17,000 ft Koh-e-Baba mountains are out our front door.  Hiking and skiing there have been some of our best days in Afg.  It’s amazing to come upon a lake tucked into these dry mountains or hear prayers from a rural mosque as we ski through a village.

Some other notable events this year:  Laurie was hit by a motorcycle while riding her beloved bike, Avi, along the beach road in Dili and survived the hospital visit afterwards.  Before leaving Timor, Laurie gifted Avi to a sweet friend, Maud, saying a heartfelt goodbye to a great bike and friend she’d had since she moved to Missoula in 1995 (aww...).  She reveled in friends and mountains in Montana, became a natural resource consultant and worked five jobs for five international organizations learning a ton along the way.  And finally, along with Chad, Laurie skied Afghanistan.  Chad surfed Bali and Brennan’s wave and survived the resulting knee surgery (conducted in Dubai).  He acquired two chickens for our household, managed a field office of 40 Afghans, and oversaw the implementation of agriculture, natural resource management, and women’s empowerment programs.  And finally, along with Laurie, Chad skied Afghanistan.

During our stay in Afg we’ve also had amazing opportunities to visit Nepal and Turkey where Chad won a rickshaw race in Kathmandu and we backpacked the Mediterranean coast of Turkey.

Afghanistan is a place where we are constantly reminded of the joy and sorrow of humanity.  This year has brought us incredible joy, some tragedy, and many stunning moments along the way.  You all have been an important part of it.  We miss you and are wishing you a happy New Year on the 1^st of January because, according to Wikipedia, in 153BC, some guys in Rome decided that’s when it was going to be.

Love,

Laurie and Chad

PS Photos in the slideshow from our 2009 world tour include Timor Leste, Indonesia, Montana, DC, Afghanistan, Nepal, and Turkey.

Turkiye

For an extended Thanksgiving/Eid holiday, we slipped away to Turkey (Turkiye, as in Turchia) for a few days in Istanbul and nine days hiking in the south along the Mediterranean coast. The country has incredible and evident history all over and illustrates the meeting of Europe and Asia. In Istanbul we saw the sites: the Bacilla Cistern, Aya Sophya, Blue Mosque, Galata Tower, the Grand Bazaar, and more. All inspiring places. Along the coast we hiked a route called the Lycian Way (Likya Yolu in Turkish). We used a guidebook to follow the route through villages and stretches of remote coast. The book included landmarks like, old camel farm, lighthouse, orange orchard, carob trees, ancient ruins, and more ancient ruins. It was a beautiful and fascinating walk through historic and modern Turkish life and landscape. The first fall rains had recently started and all along the route whole families were out collecting mushrooms in the forests. Along the way we were gifted apples, tangerines (amazing), a lemon, and kind hospitality. The tangerines were so good and we walked through so many orchards that I eventually broke down and picked a few myself. Orange and tangerine peels were a common site all over the place. I really wanted to pick a pomegranate but the season was nearly finished so they weren’t as plentiful. We usually ate dinner at a café along the route, which always included beer (something sorely lacking in Bamyan!). And spent 5 of our 8 nights in B&B type places escaping the somewhat wet weather and the 5 o’clock darkness. For breakfast, Turks eat tomatoes, cucumbers, cheese, bread, boiled egg, and tea and we regularly partook. So we weren’t exactly roughing it. ;) It was a great trip.

Update

Some great things about Bamiyan: it’s stunningly beautiful; there are glaciers and new snow in the mountains; there is no shortage of donkeys (one braying now); people catch fish from the creeks with the most basic stick, line, and hook set-up; the only election-related violence was a group of women at a polling station who, in their eagerness to vote, broke down the gate and “trampled” an elections observer before the polls opened; we can go on great hikes (soon skiing) from our house; we have two chickens (recently got the first egg!); we can walk to work; we have naan and chai every day; and in the right light, some of the plants, birds, butterflies, trees, wheat and potato fields, mountains, and streams remind us of Montana.

It’s getting cold here now, nights down to 13F (-11C). We heat our house by burning wood and coal in bukaris, cylindrical tin tanks with a mud seal around the top (see photo). To heat water, there’s a second tin cylinder that sits atop the first that we fill with water. The fire below, and the stovepipe running through, heats water pretty quickly. We also have a greenhouse set up on the south side of the house, which is where all the windows are (Bamiyan people know how to plan for the cold). In full sun, which is most days, it gets downright tropical in there. We’ve had a few snowstorms and can’t wait for a few more, ski season is right around the corner.

I recently completed a consultancy with the Aga Khan Foundation and just started work with UNEP (UN Environment Program). My new work involves planning and research in preparation for the proposed Shah Foladi protected area. This area is proposed as a category 5 protected area which means a place dedicated to safeguarding ongoing traditional use (grazing, plant harvesting for fuel, food, and medicine) in a sustainable manner. My new job means that instead of walking to work through alleyways of leaking latrines, I walk through recently harvested wheat and potato fields, some now greening with winter wheat and all surrounded by impressive mountains. Gorgeous.

We continue to meet good people and are regularly awed at the inspiration and heartbreak. Part of it is our eyes are more open in a new place but it's also the hard lives people live here and the ability of people in tough situations to smile. Recently we brought food to a colleague whose mother had died, the pain in their house was so strong, sobbing, somber faces, and people trying to comfort each other. And last week I had lunch with another colleague whose sister had the chance to study for a year in the US because her mother stood up to her uncles that didn't want her to go.

A few photos here include: the Buddhas and views from the cliffs, Chad’s all staff volleyball game in our front yard (greenhouse in background, the women and I were appropriately watching), hiking around Bamiyan, donkey’s carrying shrubs out of the mountains for fuel, wheat and potato harvest, and our work.

Next week we’re taking a holiday during the Muslim Eid and the American Thanksgiving to… Turkey. ;) We’re going to explore Istanbul and hike along the Mediterranean coast for a few days all the while feeling thankful for having all of you in our lives. Best of wishes and happy Thanksgiving.