US Military Needs Human Sensitivity Training

This happened to a friend of mine yesterday as he was trying to go to work....

"It was fucked up. I was in a Zuhak taxi in Karte Say and we kept trying to pass this mini-van and the van wouldn't let us by; in fact he kept preventing us from passing. Naturally this passed off Reza who then tried to pass several more times. Then the mini-van comes to a dead stop and an American who looks straight out of the trailer park and an Afghan wanna be American jump out of the van with AKs and start telling me they are gonna shoot my ass. I get out of the taxi and tell the American to fuck off and he tells me he's gonna shoot me if I don't fuck off and we're standing in the street like assholes arguing blocking traffic. Finally he tells us to just drive around them which we do."

I think the US military needs some civilian relations training.  We can call it Human Sensitivity Training or HST.  We all know that they suck at it.  They know they suck at it. But if we are trying to win the "hearts and minds of the Afghan people"  then we really need to start from the ground up and teach these testosterone overloaded douchebags how to have decent conversations with people in the countries they are trying to help.  

THE Coolest Kid. Ever!

I took my class to Bagh-e-Babur (Babur Gardens) this past Thursday and along the way I saw the absolute coolest kid ever.  Natural born hipster is what he is.  And the best part is that he didn't even have to try and he nailed a look that hipsters all over LA and NY are trying to sport.  You know who you are, and you know you spent many hours online searching the look and thousands of dollars at urbanoutfitters.com trying to get it right.  Please take a clue from this little guy.  Cool is innate and cannot be bought.  Needless to say, I have a very special place reserved in my black heart for this guy.

Do not view 1 hour before or after meals

This morning I was welcomed to work by the following greeting in an email:

Hope this mail will find you in the best of your health you ever had.


Pretty awesome way to start the office day.  It made up for the 1 million missed calls, door bell ringing and upset stares I received when I got picked up for work (technically, they were 10 minutes early),  the discovery that my most favorite belt broke in the wee hours of the night, and the fact that I saw this:

Sick!  Writing this post is difficult cos I have to look at this vomitous creature.  It's called a camel spider and they live here and bring terror with them wherever they go.  At least that what it seemed like as my roommates were describing the buggers (bonus points cos the explanation came with British/ Welsh accents.  Fist pump.)  Because these creatures look so gross, lots have myths have surfaced about them.  Like, they run after you and attack without warning, that they inject you with a anesthetic venom and eat chunks out of your body, they jump 4 feet into the air and chase your shadow.  Said it before and I will say it again.  SICK.  I can't write about this anymore because the photo is really making me want to upchuck my non-existent breakfast.  You can read more about this devil creature here

Happy Birthday!

Birdy had her baby!  As soon as I can I am taking a picture and sending it to all the tabloids.  But seriously, Birdy is now the proud mummy of a little chick-a-dee.  I knew this day would come sooner or later, but I never thought I'd feel this.  No one ever taught me how to be an obsessive bird lady! I don't know if I am ready for this

Come One, Come All!

Pull the kids out of school early, tell grandma that she can't have that second dose of Cipro, put on your Friday's best and head on over to your local thoroughfare to find out all you need to know about the candidates.  It's election season and you can see and feel the buzz all around!  Over the past 2 weeks or so, campaign posters have started marring the beautiful Kabul landscape and they stand there tall and proud, ready to the tell the city who the best candidate is.  Since illiteracy is a huge problem here (close to 70% of the population is illiterate), the IEC (love them!) and the government have issued symbols for each candidate so that on election day, a few words won't get in the way of exercising democracy.  So while one candidate is 3 fish, another one is a desk, and yet another one is a lantern.  I have seen keys, swords, candles, light bulbs, bicycles, you name it.  And sometimes you have a guy with 3 fish instead of one or 2 keys instead of 3.  I am fascinated and in love and have vowed to take pictures of as many of these as possible.

So I started asking locals if they knew what in the hell these symbols represented.  No says they.  OK.  So I started asking if there was any kind of campaign for the campaign that explained what the symbols meant.  Again no.  So then I asked, where in the bloody hell do these symbols come from?  Well, apparently they are given out by the IEC when a candidate registers (click here for the final IEC list).  No rhyme.  No reason.  No meaning.  Just a symbol.  So if you can't read and you happen to like the way the guy or girl on the poster looks, then at least you know they're symbol so you can vote for them.  Too bad everybody I asked said that they wouldn't vote.  C'est la vie...

City vs Country?

Sometimes its easy to forget that I am living in the middle of a big city.  But when you look around, you see apartments on top of store fronts, just like New York.  Or barbershops every 2 feet like my neighborhood in Brooklyn.  There's awful traffic, pollution, noise; everything a city dweller loves.  But then night falls and I'm just about to fall into a slumber.  I start to hear clipclopclipclopclipclopclipclop.  What the fuck!?  Every night around 2am an parade of men on horse drawn carriages marches past my house.  It always blows my mind to think that I am in one of the biggest urban areas in this country, when at the end of the day (literally), this place is as rural as it gets.  I mean, where else can I see a horse drawn carriage going past armed guards at the heavily armored dutch embassy across the street from my house?  Greatness

Thanks Birdy!

About a week ago I noticed a morning dove watching me as I did my morning business in the upstairs bathroom at work.  At first, I was a bit freaked out.  I mean, it kept blinking it's little eyes at me and I was afraid it was going to attack.  But then it didn't and I relaxed and went about my business.  The next time I went back, it was there again!  This time it gave me the courtesy to fly away until I was done and then it would come on back.  This went on for a few days and I grew to like this feathered bathroom friend.  I noticed that it had started to make a nest and everyday the cleaning lady would clean it up and everyday birdy would start over.  So I asked her to stop it with the nest destroying activities and am proud to say that she now has a nest next to the water heater.  And inside this nest is, or soon will be, eggs!

Afghans take this as a good omen.  I believe it!  Shortly after birdy's arrival, a series of good things happened to my boss.  I received some good news about my career.  I'm sure there are other bits of undocumented good news that I am not aware of, but you get the point.  So, I pointed birdy out to the video manager and he went to check her out.  When he came back he told me a fantastic story.  It goes a little something like this..........

VM has hanging plants off of the windows in his house.  One day he went to water one and noticed a morning dove had reclaimed the plant as its home.  He left the bird alone for the moment, but returned again once the mama was gone.  To his surprise, he found eggs in the plant.  So he took a planter and made a home for the eggs and moved the operation over (he was worried about his plant).  The eggs hatched and now there are more eggs!  This is where the story gets good.  So, his mother hadn't seen her brothers in many many moons.  So long, in fact, that they were considered to be missing.  A few days after the eggs hatched, she found herself restless and unable to sleep.  Pacing around the garden, she started to worry her son and daughter-in-law.  Suddenly, there is a knock at the door and she answers to find a stranger asking her if she knew Bibi joon (herself), or her husband.  This stranger mentioned that Bibi joon had a brother named so and so and then he saw the shock and excitement in her eyes.  Needless to say, she was the person they were looking for.  But they traveled to Kabul from Herat and knew only 2 names.  They being the wife on one brother and a cousin.  They knew what district VM lived in and they went there and spent 4 days knocking on doors, asking about Bibi joon.  People in the neighborhood thought they were some sort of child  nabbing gypsies.  But they found her and took her to Herat for a month!  All cos a bird chose their house to nest.  Yeah. I'm not at all obsessed with this feathered friend.

Anyone got a phone I can borrow?

Damascus, Syria.  Old City. February 2010

Thanks IEC

Oh. The IEC.  We got a contract to produce from public service announcements for radio broadcast about the upcoming Wolosi Jirga.  The parliamentary elections.  The messages were to deal with the nomination and complaints period.  The IEC set up a phone line where listeners could call in and voice their complaints.  Given all the controversy surrounding the last election, this was an important step forward.  We were slated to broadcast this message 160 times across 30 different stations nationwide.  Well.  After 48 broadcasts, the IEC called us and asked us to stop broadcasting.  Why?  Because they were getting TOO MANY COMPLAINTS!  What in the fuck did they expect?  Really?  That no one would call?  Uh? If I recall correctly, the last election was frought with accusations of vote-rigging and intimidation.  People are angry and they have lost faith in the process and the first thing that is initiated in an effort to combat this gets sacked before it even has a chance.  Since the broadcasts were only set to occur over the course of a month, we were never able to make up the missed ones.  Frankly, I hope that people rape, riot and pillage.

On another note, the picture below is of the Afghan parliament from way back in the day (about 79 years ago), where phone lines and complaint periods were probably non-existant.

  

The Journey...Continued

We took a trip late this Thursday afternoon to the Panjshir Valley, the Valley of the Five Lions.  I did everything in my power to slip out of work an hour early so that I could accompany my mates and get the **f** out of Kabul.  The drive there was a mix of city, sub-city and country.  About 30 minutes out of Kabul, the landscape starts to change.  Grave vines take over dust fields, soon to be taken over by fields of wheat, who subside to apricot and toot (mulberry) trees.  Colors change from khaki, to brown, to green, to slate, back to green and the majesty of the slate colored mountains.  In a word, breathtaking.  In another word, peaceful.  It's hard to imagine war and destruction in this paradise.  Only a couple of decades ago, actually, just 10 years ago, this was the front line between the Taliban and the Northern Alliance.  Signs of the war and wreckage still litter the countryside.  Vast expanses of land house the dead cavities of tanks, helicopters and military trucks.  Like graveyards, but so much more full of life.  See, these rusted reminders of the Jihad have started to blend into the Earth.  It's the perfect picture of the Earth reclaiming the destruction of man.  Tanks covered in moss, or playing the role of rocks in the bustling Panjshir river.  It's almost unreal.  The contrast of rust to green, power lines to tent dwelling nomadic tribes, camels to goats, etc. play mind games with me.  How can a country so wrought with war and destruction be so beautiful and inaccessible?  Why would anyone want to keep this land away from the wandering eye?  Wait. Nevermind.  I'd want to keep this beauty safe from the perils of man and development too.  It's just too beautiful.

Journey to the Valley of the Panjshir

A puzzle

Riddle me this.  How the hell am I supposed to explore this fair country if I stay at work until 10pm every night?  Regardless of weekends and holidays. barf

What if.....

we saw the world from a street dog's perspective?

Bovine PSA

Bovines beware! Any bovine found loitering, masticating, or reproducing without proper documentation shall be punished by beheading and consumption.  Public display of unflattering photographs will be taken by this man:

Run for the hills May Belle!! Run for the hills!!

True Love

It's Been....

3 1/2 weeks since I started working and I have yet to see the likes of a business card.  I normally wouldn't care, but it seems as though everyone here is business card happy.  Say you go to a -security cleared- dining and libating establishment where the expat crowd convenes to exchange interesting stories about their experiences.  Say you strike a conversation with someone that knows someone that you are there with.  Guaranteed they will ask what you do and request a business card within the first 2.5 seconds of the conversation (Note: time not arbitrary; 2 seconds is spent exchanging pleasantries and aliases and .5 seconds is spent on the handshake that may or may not size you up for the rest of your existence in Afghanistan).

So you can imagine the inconvenience of having to explain that you don't yet have a business card (and its yet to be designed) and pulling out a pen and paper to write down your contact information.  Like I said, normally I wouldn't really care, but here it feels like I'm committing a crime.  And somebody answer me this: why, of all the office materials that one can have, do I have a glue stick (!) before a business card?

Maybe they're trying to hint that I should make my own? (insert squinted eyes here) And the glue is there to help me paste the 2 sides together!  

Reality

Whoaaaa Nelly

I had the pleasure of going to a Buzkhashi match at General Fahim's personal Buzkhashi grounds.  We were so close to the action that we had to fend off dirt and shit.  We could even reach out and touch someone, i.e., a horse.  What a crazy game and the whole time I kept thinking about how the Afghans want this to be an Olympic sport.  Who the fuck would play against this mob?  I was blown away though because these guys reach over and under their horses to grab a calf's body that has been soaked in water for 24 hours.  So it's double it's normal weight.  And after they grab the sucker, they ride with the dangling carcass across the field, around a pole and again in order to drop it into a chalk-outlined circle.  All this while everyone else that doesn't have the carcass is trying to bombard you and smack you into submission.  Everyone has these leather sticks that they use to smack their opponent in the head with or even their horse.

Obvi's the horse above is thinking "Fuck this shit!"  I wish the internet connection here was fast enough so that I could post for you the video of this joyous game.  So while these guys beat each other and their horses while fighting over the carcass of an innocent calf, General Fahim and his esteemed colleagues place bets on the riders.  It's every man for himself here.  Although the guys in red are all Fahim's players and guess what?  They won almost every time!  These guys make in one game what most Afghans wish they made in a whole month.  I wonder how much Fahim and his mates made!  Anyhorsey, I'm glad I went, and I don't see myself going again unless by some freakish decision lulee came for a visit and then I would have to make her dreams come true and take her.

This one's for you lulee.

Weekends a la Kabul

Now that I'm a working girl (not that kind of working girl, you dirty minded fools), I don't get to see the sun much because I spend about 10 hours a day at my desk.  I work to the soundtrack of

"click click click click click click click click click click click click clickclick click click click click click click click click click clickclick click click click click click click click click click click click click click"

and

salamalaykomjanojoonbekhair?khoobhasteem?mahkhoobee?assayarazangmeezzanamkhoobhasteen?blahblahblahblahblahblahblah"

It's enough to make me want to lose my mind, but it makes me look forward to the weekends that much more.  Weekends in Kabul are interesting because it's not like you can be all last minute about things.  You have to plan ahead and if you don't, you're stuck.  So this past weekend was Nawruz and D's bro was ending a horrible week of vacation here, so we decided to spend as much time cradling his broken heart as possible.  Friday morning started with a trip to Qargah Lake, where we witnessed a super awesome dance-off between modern and traditional Pashtun boys (will post video soon), went to a BBQ at my favorite (not) Frenchie's house in the afternoon and then on to way too many alcoholic beverages in the evening.  Got stopped by the police at a check point because I had my chador covering my whole face and got harassed for a 5 minutes.

****Insert side note here**** One would think that being fully covered here would be a good thing, but I honestly get harassed no matter what.  Fully covered, no ankles showing, I get spat at.  Not fully covered, ankles showing, I get spat at.  Chador covering my face a la burqa style, I get harassed.  I can't win!

Anyhow, the next few days I spent walking around, which is a novelty here, playing tennis, trying to feed a pregnant cat some funky looking chicken that arrived on my plate (you know there's something wrong when even the preggo cat won't eat it) and getting more drunk.  All in all a good weekend compared to most.  Now I'm halfway through another work week and waiting for the next few days to pass.

Enyoy!!

Why

does the hot water get hotter, scalding even (!), when I turn on the cold water to balance it out?  Isn't the rule hot+cold=warm showering goodness?  Not here.  I think that if properly warm water was available for showering to more people here, there just might not be as much war or suicide bombs.  Seriously.

I know this is my first post in a long time and it might seem arbitrary to all of you with nice warm showers out there, but did you ever consider that I couldn't move my fingers to type because of all the caked on dirt because I couldn't shower for days? Huh? Did you?

Best Name Ever?

While reading the HuffPost today, I stumbled upon a treasure of a name.  Thank you UK once again for keeping me entertained and satisfied.  Lulee, I think you'll enjoy what you're about to read.

Meet Air Chief Marshall Sir Jock Stirrup.  He is a big wig in the British Armed Forces and currently one the key decision makers in the Marjah operation.  This man should be the next Prime Minister of Britain for reasons that go way beyond that fact that he would be known as Prime Minister Stirrup.  He has acknowledged the military's role in global warming and believes in taking a pragmatic approach to dealing with the Taliban, a la McChrystal and Karzai.  He's been in the armed forces for forever and he will probably never die.  Also did I mention that his name is Sir Jock Stirrup?!?!

I may seem a bit childish on this, but I seriously implore you to look into the achievements of this man.  And ask yourself this, would you vote for this man if you were a British national?
Just sayin.................

We Swear, It's for Energy Purposes Only!

This morning all the news outlets reported that Iran is enriching uranium at an alarming rate and they do not believe that the government is going to use this technology for peaceful, energy purposes, as they have been claiming. This bit of news, along with the human rights abuses and the outcome of the all of the rioting that has been taking place there has sparked the press to label the government as a "military dictatorship" and the UN wants to impose a fourth round of sanctions on this oil rich, crazy country.

In other news, President Barak Obama announced today he supports the construction of more nuclear power plants in the States.  He wants to use this energy as an alternative to oil and will use tax-payer money to guarantee the loans for their construction.  The news also made reports about the US and British led operation in Helmand Province in southern Afghanistan, ending with the fact that the CIA had captured a top Taliban baradar (brother).  Smells like military dictatorship spirit to me.

Does anyone else see a problem with this?

One nation is being heralded for their innovation, while the other is being penalized.  When will our ignorance of these double standards end?  Don't get me wrong, I am not trying to be a commie or a terrorist.  I just think it's fucked up and a bit silly that these two news stories follow each other on the soundbyte cork board and no one seems to understand the irony.  If the US is to impose sanctions on Iran, then they too must halt their own nuclear ambitions.  It is unjust to expect one nation to stand idly by while another nation develops their arms abilities.  I think Qadaffi hit the nail on the head when he took out the UN Charter and pointed out the discrepancies under which the Security Council operates.  They all called the man crazy, and he is a bit of that, don't me wrong, but he speaks the truth when it comes to issues of sanctions, nuclear capability, and double standards.  What good is the UN Charter when the most powerful nations choose to ignore most of what is in there?  

Fancy Pants Health Club in Kabul?

Yesterday I found out that Kabul is truly on the up and up.  The much anticipated Kabul Health Club has finally opened it's doors to the public.  Well.....kind of.  Let's just say that it's opened it's doors to the expat public, since they, and maybe some rich Afghans, will be the only ones able to afford to stop and smell the roses inside.  I'm not gonna lie....this place is swaaankay.  It's a nice alternative to the dust and shit that is around you at all times and it will probably make living here a lot more bearable.  Once I find a job, that is.  Until then, I will check out their website on a daily hourly basis, in between sending my resume to 101 different organizations, and day dreaming about my future.  Or maybe I'll head over there right now for a cappuccino and pretend like I have a job.

Did you know..........?

that there are more women serving in the Afghan parliament than there are in the USA and in the UK?  Just a little some'somethin to think about

The Proverbial "Glass Ceiling" OR the Myths of Western Feminism

I've been in Kabul for 2 days now and my time has been spent doing a few of my favorite things.  Things like petting whiskers on kittens, eating said kittens (I joke), drinking and chatting up the "locals" (ex-pats).  Already I'm starting to realize that the "glass ceiling" that feminists constantly refer to has been shattered here and is contributing to the dustiness of Kabul.  Allow me to explain:

Feminists believe that women face a "glass ceiling" when it comes down to professional advancement because most women are cunty and don't want to help out their fellow sisters.  These are women in top paying positions that feel they earned their way to the top, so instead of playing the role of mentor, they try to act as road blocks.  Maybe they are afraid for their own job security.  Maybe they are just plain mean hearted.  Whatever the case, they don't want to help each other and will be the first to kick you while you're down.

Not the case in good ol' Kabubble!  Women here will give you all the insider information they have.  They'll give you their business card, complete with their mobile numbers, the names of organizations that have good reputations and tell you who to stay away from.  They'll introduce to people they think you should know and generally seem to care about your success.  In short, they will treat you like a sister.  What a refreshing environment!!  The best part is that they are all Western women!  

So I guess it's not the women of the West that are problem, it's the Western idea of woman.  These Western women in a completely Eastern environment have shattered the glass ceiling.  To that I say, watch out for falling glass.

I'm Being Ignored

It's happened.  Sooner than I ever expected and in a place I seriously did not expect for it to.  I've lost my mind and any manner of common sense that came with it.  Why, you ask?  Simple really.  My best friend, whom I've traveled a quarter of the way around the world for, has been ignoring me for the past 3(!) days!  So I've no choice but to sing her silly songs in hopes that she will acknowledge my presence.  Please god, I hope this works.