tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-41204201386263072362024-03-14T01:04:07.910-07:00The Whole Kipp and KabuldleOne man's journey to Kabul, AfghanistanStephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17597787165512642036noreply@blogger.comBlogger18125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4120420138626307236.post-90804956442033673282011-04-03T21:34:00.000-07:002011-04-03T23:36:57.754-07:00Murad KhaneWell - it was the big day - the opening of the entire project. <div><br /></div><div>Shoshana got up early in order to head down early. </div><div><br /></div><div>The rest of us at the fort began to gather up - each dressed in elements of Turquoise Mountain that we had purchased at the sale the day before - some in ties or jackets from Zarif - a local designer who employs 50 local tailors - and some in necklaces or cufflinks from the Turquoise Mountain jewelry makers. </div><div><br /></div><div>All dressed up we loaded in to vans and made our way through the busy streets of Kabul.</div><div><br /></div><div>We got to Murad Khane and were dropped off on the bazaar street which is full of people selling everything from vegetables to naan to old tires and popcorn. We hear the mullah and smell the acrid air as we make our way into the walls of the Murad Khane project.</div><div><br /></div><div>Even more than the day before they have put finishing touches on the many buildings. They have festively hung bolts of fabric in the double column surai and posted pictures of the project in process on banners and photo montages on the walls in the hallway. </div><div><br /></div><div>They had broken us up in to groups and Judy, Stocky and I were on with the deputy engineer and Shegufah from business development whom I had met on my last trip here - she is one hell of a negotiator for carpets on Chicken Street. </div><div><br /></div><div>We then waited for Sir John and Lady Anne to join us. They did and were exactly what you would think - Lady Anne was a bubbly woman in her 60's who got involved with TM because "she had known Rory since he was "a little bit of a thing". Sir John was a slightly quieter man with a sever look but a warm demeanor under his straw fedora.</div><div><br /></div><div>We walked through and marveled at the improvements that had been made since even the 2 days before. All of the schools with their work shops open and kids inside working on calligraphy or pottery, wood working and carving and the making of jewelry. All of this being done in a beautifully the restored buildings. </div><div><br /></div><div>Windows of carved wood panels that could be opened in 3 sections - walls intricately carved from a plaster made from clay and mud that were painted in multiple hues - colors that came from clay that made distinctive greens and tans.</div><div><br /></div><div>We walked through to the school and met a few of the children who were between their classes (there is school here 6 days a week). </div><div><br /></div><div>We then made our way to the medical building. The building itself had been an empty lot the last time I was here. the medical facilities had been limited to a small room with 2 doctors. There were now multiple treatment rooms to deal with the most common medical problems that plague the area - malnutrition, stomach issues, and family planning - along with treatment for infections and other common issues. </div><div><br /></div><div>The facility is beautiful and clean - and will service up to 2,500 families. The whole building was built in 10 months. The person who oversaw the architecture and implementation of this project - Heddy - this is also the woman who took on the logistics of all of the event planning for the weekend. Simply amazing. </div><div><br /></div><div>When walking through with the managing physician - you really get a sense of pride from him about how he feels about the project and the facility. </div><div><br /></div><div>After seeing this we all gathered in the great serai for speeches by Shoshana, Rory, the Engineer, and Mr. Hallily - the person who will now take over the day to day operations of the institute.</div><div><br /></div><div>Some speeches are given in English - others in Dari and then translated to English. This gives the whole opening and the entire project a real sense of global effort and united community effort. </div><div><br /></div><div>The engineer poignantly - puts his hands together and talks about the joining together of people is what made this work - from the 400 workers to "the support that came from above".</div><div><br /></div><div>We all then gather for lunch in the double column serai - all 70 of us sit on the floor eating afghan food and drinking coke. Over lunch I ask about what locals think of the project - some are happy - especially those who have gotten work from it - others are suspicious and don't trust it - many believing that the british are there to reclaim treasure that they buried there under the peacock house. </div><div><br /></div><div>Apparently this belief is fairly wide spread. There is obviously still much work to be done with the local community which I think will be helped by the tangible use of the medical facility and the day to day management of all TMF being put into local hands.</div><div><br /></div><div>After lunch we ask to return to the student sale - the students have set up in one of their newer buildings - what will serve as their gathering place for lunches and graduations - they have set up tables of student work from each of the schools. </div><div><br /></div><div>All of the students are excited to show us their wares - working to explain what stones are in their jewelry - or what the meaning is of the calligraphy they have done. The interpretation and explanation is half the fun. </div><div><br /></div><div>As I pour over one of the tables - looking at each piece - one student says smiling- haven't you bought anything yet? We banter back and fourth - me learning that he is a 3rd year who is excited to graduate and start his own business soon.</div><div><br /></div><div>It seems like the institute is working.</div><div><br /></div><div>Since TM has started - a jewelry maker has opened up a workshop around the corner and is taking on much of the work that TM has been asked to do - including an order for 1,200 pairs of earrings for Kate Spade (available in June).</div><div><br /></div><div>The shop owner is very proud - and his father is there to act as chaperone - which is what allows both men and women to work in the same shop - albeit in separate rooms. </div><div><br /></div><div>The next business development piece we go to check out is located in another part of town. It is the woodworking production facility - a 3 building factory that produces all of their comissioned pieces - they are currently working on office furniture for 150 offices at the US Embassy as well as items for the gift shop at the British Museum.</div><div><br /></div><div>We all ride with Zia back to the fort - Rory - riding in the "way back" of the 4 Runner talks about the uptick in businesses in Kabul and we laugh as we pint to the large scale video screen in one of the traffic circles in town. It is advertising a local version of red bull called big bull.</div><div>It is terribly out of place - but I suppose is a sign of progress of some sort - or at least of westernization.</div><div><br /></div><div>Shoshana has been hordeing bottles of champagne for weeks to raise a glass back at the fort. </div><div><br /></div><div>There is much to celebrate an much to be proud of. I am extremely happy I made the trip and have been able to be a part of this.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17597787165512642036noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4120420138626307236.post-2696271437433441072011-04-03T11:47:00.000-07:002011-04-04T04:19:42.555-07:00Setting Sale<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm90AtWbGUq7mIPFZHbvQ_cfyzsO0tqMFVTh0TBSRin7kFp46X2h0YRLA-ATpyoWJx29aLz1Lyll6MGOzPMMJt7xIr_UmSJZn8QYmsvQlTXgkucD9Ox8CQ5O36MjDm6VZEeO5Yr4-bImDZ/s1600/IMG_2402.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm90AtWbGUq7mIPFZHbvQ_cfyzsO0tqMFVTh0TBSRin7kFp46X2h0YRLA-ATpyoWJx29aLz1Lyll6MGOzPMMJt7xIr_UmSJZn8QYmsvQlTXgkucD9Ox8CQ5O36MjDm6VZEeO5Yr4-bImDZ/s200/IMG_2402.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5591678580912184578" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRHIF7IhQx8HvFRE90eqHw6iy7MiiEHZbc6CqCirxp14CRxW3kBJ6V1KePMnA71jwtVMFK7ZtMD4vjT63vS9aaxsgDXG0f6Ynxm9dbN3WSdrCjGXrLZ61zO53iSivW71xmDsjm3QihqUrt/s1600/IMG_2417.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRHIF7IhQx8HvFRE90eqHw6iy7MiiEHZbc6CqCirxp14CRxW3kBJ6V1KePMnA71jwtVMFK7ZtMD4vjT63vS9aaxsgDXG0f6Ynxm9dbN3WSdrCjGXrLZ61zO53iSivW71xmDsjm3QihqUrt/s200/IMG_2417.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5591678577771760690" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGIgiAzrNmo9qHYUJWP1JdhB9tXUvfuamTiqevrtzahmZiFzUxLWUlguryEiZlhzdjKw_5i-cZc65aLQusrQsJQt2AlnC9jWS2nP-5h_11v0hxYQBQcN9lrS-WeR1XNa9xbrgVplIqcZwJ/s1600/IMG_2386.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGIgiAzrNmo9qHYUJWP1JdhB9tXUvfuamTiqevrtzahmZiFzUxLWUlguryEiZlhzdjKw_5i-cZc65aLQusrQsJQt2AlnC9jWS2nP-5h_11v0hxYQBQcN9lrS-WeR1XNa9xbrgVplIqcZwJ/s200/IMG_2386.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5591678576102240450" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3Te9_InqFuTkAf3g9h5dcERfKAXzC0rabXJaLqdot8qqqT9glgUJPWfPKoKZK1tWGuOO4P9hi4x1OSeBd_Glbz37hLVQWY1Td0xv1d9AEc96t5A_efck4-_0PHXsnrOj_MhZ9i24B7a_g/s1600/IMG_2377.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3Te9_InqFuTkAf3g9h5dcERfKAXzC0rabXJaLqdot8qqqT9glgUJPWfPKoKZK1tWGuOO4P9hi4x1OSeBd_Glbz37hLVQWY1Td0xv1d9AEc96t5A_efck4-_0PHXsnrOj_MhZ9i24B7a_g/s200/IMG_2377.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5591678569963737554" /></a><br />The sale went on as it was hoped to. The timing was noon to 4 and although most people did not show up in the early hours - after 2:00 most were ready to leave their houses and come and check out the wares.<div><br /></div><div>The English Ambassador showed up with his wife, some friends and of course his own security detail. Never one to let adversity get her down - Judy sold something to every person in that party - save the security detail.</div><div><br /></div><div>After the sale was over many went to Babur's Garden anxious to get out. I decided to stay at the fort, relax - and get a few photos of the fort at sunset. </div><div><br /></div><div>The courtyard turned over from being ready for the sale to preparing for a bonfire in the evening. </div><div><br /></div><div>We ate Indian food and talked around the bonfire in the chill night air. </div><div><br /></div><div>The following day was the opening at Murad Khane.</div>Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17597787165512642036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4120420138626307236.post-90868123718317386262011-04-02T02:46:00.000-07:002011-04-02T03:53:56.746-07:00Chock Full<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiacCQq_RqrKC1ZdjNcCBeI-NCYKVW4TZVPNvKo08x0jFncxEg2vyZtfNhJgtmexlDUWuntrS08cf_EfXUng_tYHFqskpTXAY2cwrZNjqayB5ZHbLxxZOumjQ05nUtpz9UkArVRJyCef_dr/s1600/IMG_2335.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiacCQq_RqrKC1ZdjNcCBeI-NCYKVW4TZVPNvKo08x0jFncxEg2vyZtfNhJgtmexlDUWuntrS08cf_EfXUng_tYHFqskpTXAY2cwrZNjqayB5ZHbLxxZOumjQ05nUtpz9UkArVRJyCef_dr/s200/IMG_2335.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590937672854070994" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqp3_-4cjgMYQ1y-7Na7JNttOuoH_yDm3yA_KqtSWTCThFrsIPF5y1BJKeLMGJ8Fr92LAj8CAXZUUKmT2aU_PTAj6uTdaCjF1YMER1_GHoDTTePcdKJjqLo5flCZ0xV3m_famP-s3j-5ln/s1600/IMG_2252.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqp3_-4cjgMYQ1y-7Na7JNttOuoH_yDm3yA_KqtSWTCThFrsIPF5y1BJKeLMGJ8Fr92LAj8CAXZUUKmT2aU_PTAj6uTdaCjF1YMER1_GHoDTTePcdKJjqLo5flCZ0xV3m_famP-s3j-5ln/s200/IMG_2252.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590937668394637682" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Uv62LcpIFVfMMy2g0Rn6VZ_MLxADeC8LQhyphenhyphen42rnugcSTb9_cBOP6y84ARiQhLpQGjABmfwf-idGXJEgZH8xykZYSaldrUcog9MkdfLJ7WeAwS_21gvdqAYHusAVJYcPtmsnnqDAzd2f0/s1600/IMG_2196.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Uv62LcpIFVfMMy2g0Rn6VZ_MLxADeC8LQhyphenhyphen42rnugcSTb9_cBOP6y84ARiQhLpQGjABmfwf-idGXJEgZH8xykZYSaldrUcog9MkdfLJ7WeAwS_21gvdqAYHusAVJYcPtmsnnqDAzd2f0/s200/IMG_2196.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590937657104285522" /></a><br />Well - I have finally awoken this morning after yesterday's long but chock full day. <div><br /></div><div>The day started slowly at the fort. </div><div><br /></div><div>We gathered in the kitchen and then out in the courtyard to hear the security briefing from Shoshana. It seems that things are a bit tighter this time than they were last. There is a more formalized sign out system than there was on my last trip and we were all issued cell phones to communicate with the fort about our movements. </div><div><br /></div><div>After the briefing - Judy decided it was time to wash the dog - Palawan. It became an all hands on deck effort to get this to happen. Palawan resisted as Stocky held him and Judy did the majority of the scrubbing. I had the much easier job of pouring the water over the dog to help with the rinsing. 3 others helped with the gathering of the water and additional shampoo supplies needed. </div><div><br /></div><div>The Afghans at the fort looked on in disbelief - they do not have alot of use for dogs and considered this a sort of silly effort on our end. Like trying to keep a rat clean.</div><div><br /></div><div>The juxtaposition of the dog washing and the security briefing, one couple's 2 year old son - climbing a tree while security walked the perimeter with guns and military choppers flew overhead was striking.</div><div><br /></div><div>Its all so normal until one of those other elements catches your eye.</div><div><br /></div><div>We left the fort to go for brunch at the Kabul health club - Shoshana's gym. Its new since I was here last as are many things in Kabul - you can definitely see some progress - in the opening of new businesses.</div><div><br /></div><div>The health club - like many other westernized places - has a beautiful courtyard - that you get to after the armed security pat down. Once the guard says yes the guy behind the slide peep hole door lets you in. </div><div><br /></div><div>After our buffet lunch Stocky, Judy and I made our way to Murad Khane - the part of town that the Turquoise Mountain group has been re-doing. When I was here last it was in full process - wood being carved - decisions being made about the facades of the 64 buildings being redone - 19 of which have been fully built or refurbished. </div><div><br /></div><div>I walked into the double column Surai - which was in process last time - they had asked for mine and Judy's opinion about the woodwork above the archways they were constructing. Walking in - it was all done - there was grass in the courtyard that had been all wood and scaffolding - the gardner was planting the roses in preparation for Sunday. </div><div><br /></div><div>It took my breath away and tears welled in the corners of my eyes. I could not believe all that had been accomplished. </div><div><br /></div><div>She showed us the other buildings - the great Surai - the school that was built - and the medical building. </div><div><br /></div><div>This was a pre-tour before the groups all show up on Sunday. I was glad to get the time there alone with the clarks to really get a full sense of what had been accomplished. </div><div><br /></div><div>We did not get to see all of the buildings - but will see the rest on Sunday.</div><div><br /></div><div>There were many arrivals that took place today and we all soon made our way to the British Cemetary for the memorial service for Anna. It was a really beautiful ceremony - each of the parents read bible verses - and the family all had a beautiful calm light about them - which was only highlighted by the sun that set over the graveyard - the flowering trees - and the mountain neighborhood in the background that was filled with playing children - jumping from roof top to roof top - flying kites and yelling with joy.</div><div><br /></div><div>The Father's verse was from Ecclesiastes - "A time to destroy, a time to rebuild" and it all seemed so appropriate to his daughter's work and to everything happening in Kabul.</div><div><br /></div><div>Rory closed out the ceremony and recited a TS Elliot poem that talked about endings as beginnings - and history as "time filled with meaning - a series of creative moments which add something new to the world and determine the world's course."</div><div><br /></div><div>This seemed appropriate for Anna - and for the completion and handing over of the Turquoise Mountain project. There is some question as to the meaning this project will be given and how it will fit into history and how the Afghans will use it now that it is their time.</div><div><br /></div><div>We all went to dinner at Sufi last night - there were 40 of us eating and the room was buoyant as past TM architects and workers came together with board members and other guests. </div><div><br /></div><div>I had dinner with Will - who I had met and had walked the city wall with on my last trip. Will has worked here since 2004 and has now archived the whole project and is going to be done at the end of April. His pregnant wife is back in England and he is trying to figure out what is next for him as he knows this experience cannot be recreated anywhere else.</div><div><br /></div><div>As we are talking Rory comes and asks will about the attack on the UN as Rory has been asked to comment on it for the press. </div><div><br /></div><div>For those paying attention at home - the attack that took place yesterday was in Masar-i- Sharif - a small town about 9 hours from Kabul. The attack was a response to a Rev. Jones in Florida and his burning of the Koran after "putting it on trial."</div><div><br /></div><div>There are not words for the ridiculousness of this action and how it has now caused strife and deaths 11,000 miles from the swampland of Florida. </div><div><br /></div><div>We are all safe here at the fort but it has put an understandable damper on the day's activities.</div><div><br /></div><div>We are in a bit of a lockdown scenario as Shoshana and team did not wish to risk any unecessary movements. </div><div><br /></div><div>This will also limit those who were planning to come to the Qala today - as many dignitaries are also in lockdown. </div><div><br /></div><div>However - we continued to work on the set up of the sale and I moved woodworking, tables and other materials to set up for this event. As with events anywhere - there are a number of opinions and more chiefs than there are indians and today I gladly played the part of stage hand. </div><div><br /></div><div>Remains to be seen how successful the sale will be.</div><div><br /></div><div>More later.</div>Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17597787165512642036noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4120420138626307236.post-21070941951618744162011-04-01T11:27:00.000-07:002011-04-01T11:34:27.306-07:00Beat it.I am sorry to say I am too tired to post tonight. It was a great day and I apologize for not posting tonight but I am beat. Wanted to assure all that I am safe and I promise to post tomorrow.<div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17597787165512642036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4120420138626307236.post-2258217474478592442011-03-31T20:29:00.000-07:002011-03-31T23:42:16.354-07:00Finally Here<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZJpPjAhVq0cbX1rPPDbxHg9uok-zaA34seb_IvRKvfQm3eHl8L_scogN99REAF_WgEPbTCI3LZknQYuctp6COD5XFW7g-mwNBwzLmjsWfQYayiVmTCoJgGfwlSao4MVnYFqVsaI0pdocu/s1600/IMG_2185.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZJpPjAhVq0cbX1rPPDbxHg9uok-zaA34seb_IvRKvfQm3eHl8L_scogN99REAF_WgEPbTCI3LZknQYuctp6COD5XFW7g-mwNBwzLmjsWfQYayiVmTCoJgGfwlSao4MVnYFqVsaI0pdocu/s200/IMG_2185.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590484477177866034" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg83MN76YqRTNLgG7Hj9q8WeiaaUsiW8YdsSiTIxOftepzCuFrC5A8Oi4p-qtZt2OPmeLUV0z2TaHNwiRHYYhv_kRblQPpfFwZZvFPGGHfmR02V5eKcdgKzi1AAjc_uj34VcAnv1u3lkj8E/s1600/IMG_2181.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg83MN76YqRTNLgG7Hj9q8WeiaaUsiW8YdsSiTIxOftepzCuFrC5A8Oi4p-qtZt2OPmeLUV0z2TaHNwiRHYYhv_kRblQPpfFwZZvFPGGHfmR02V5eKcdgKzi1AAjc_uj34VcAnv1u3lkj8E/s200/IMG_2181.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590484477491340802" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNRcmnQzpV4y-vOEBSNvR-NidHS3YLlm4FyZyMXwhi0E0qboFZp_Grn5wJY5tczswQ1ug5oYkrKKodWhUi9gbFn2rW1puSDttgGltXUDis6Kmn8g-Kxe3zHhgAzT-BqU-5jhW0PdEKKIw2/s1600/IMG_2180.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNRcmnQzpV4y-vOEBSNvR-NidHS3YLlm4FyZyMXwhi0E0qboFZp_Grn5wJY5tczswQ1ug5oYkrKKodWhUi9gbFn2rW1puSDttgGltXUDis6Kmn8g-Kxe3zHhgAzT-BqU-5jhW0PdEKKIw2/s200/IMG_2180.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590484475730954546" /></a><br />Well - I am finally here in Kabul.<div><br /></div><div>The 15 hours from NY to Dubai were uneventful and even quite enjoyable. I was in a window seat with 2 empty seats next to me and although I tried to watch movies and read I really ended up sleeping most of the time - which I guess I needed. </div><div><br /></div><div>Once we arrived in Dubai - it was immediately familiar in its otherworldly strangeness - the sprawl leading out to the endless desert. Flying over at daytime you really got a much better sense of Dubai's vastness in the middle of nowhere.</div><div><br /></div><div>Stocky and I took a cab to the terminal where we were to make our connection to our flight to Kabul. </div><div><br /></div><div>Here we met up with another family that was on their way to Turquoise Mountain - there was a husband and wife, Ashley and Mary, with one of their 7 kids, Kathleen who is in her early 20's. One of their other daughters was already at the fort in Kabul. </div><div><br /></div><div>The family was coming to Kabul for the opening and part of the weekend ceremony was going to be a memorial for their oldest daughter, Anna, who died while here in Kabul while she was working on the TM project. By all reports she had never been happier - working on the project and being a part of the rebuild of Afghanistan. As a part of this she also got to enjoy one of her other favorite things - horseback riding - and this is how she died.</div><div><br /></div><div>There will be a ceremony on Friday to honor her and a tree planting on Sunday.</div><div><br /></div><div>Despite their reason for traveling and their schedule (all had just been in Jordan and had spent the last 10 hours in the Dubai airport) - the family was charming and talkative - excited for their trip back to Kabul.</div><div><br /></div><div>We all eventually made our way onto the plane and sat there in the heat of the runway for about :45 minutes. Eventually they let us know that the AC was broken and that we would be returning to the terminal. </div><div><br /></div><div>Everything eventually got sorted and we boarded another plane bound for Kabul. </div><div><br /></div><div>Flying in the views were obstructed by large rain clouds - every once in a while you would see the tip of a still snow covered mountain peek through. Made me wonder if everyone was clear on where the clouds ended and the mountains started. Though not usually a nervous flyer - I also could not help but flash on the recent air traffic issues in the US.</div><div><br /></div><div>We eventually touched down and got our bags making our way to the desk where we were to get our foreigner's registration cards and through customs. </div><div><br /></div><div>Stocky and I bought 2 bottles of booze in Dubai - and this time - unlike last - they did not try to confiscate them. </div><div><br /></div><div>Shoshana was not there to greet us - as she was in the middle of preparations for the weekend - and we were to make our way to parking lot C - which was harder than you might think and we all schlepped our bags through the mud covered streets looking for someone with a Turquoise Mountain sign. We thought we were on the right path until a group of armed guards yelled at us to turn around - we of course listened. </div><div><br /></div><div>Katherine had luckily made contact with our driver and he emerged from parking lot B to meet us. </div><div><br /></div><div>I am sorry to say there are no pictures to document this. </div><div><br /></div><div>Judy was there to greet us when we got to lot C - though not with open arms as local custom does not allow for a woman to greet a man in this way. </div><div><br /></div><div>The ride to the fort was as adventuresome as ever - the traffic moves along the dust covered streets of Kabul like a school of fish swimming upstream - narrowly missing each other but traveling dangerously close. Unlike the fish - it seems the car impact would not be as soft. </div><div><br /></div><div>You could see at twilight the new trees that had been planted along many of the streets - and what looked to be additional shops - I will be intrigued to see what it looks like in the light of day.</div><div><br /></div><div>When they bomb checked the vehicles and let us into the fort - it felt like a strange and surprising homecoming - odd to think that coming to Kabul would ever feel like home - but with the Clarks here and the group happily gathered in the kitchen over the warm pasta and tales of our adventures getting here it really did feel that way.</div><div><br /></div><div>After eating I took a hammam tonight - hot water in a hot room was just what was needed after a day of flying and slugging through mud. Judy came in to take a picture of me there (not so hot in that room) so I will spare all of you from it.</div><div><br /></div><div>By 8:30 I was beat and ready for bed. The four of us - Shoshana, Judy, Stocky and I - all sat in Shoshana's room where we will all be camped out for the weekend - Sho and I in the outer room - and Stocky and Judy in the other room. It felt like being kids again. Even down to dozing off before the lights were turned off. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17597787165512642036noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4120420138626307236.post-92199872185168152562011-03-27T23:59:00.000-07:002011-03-30T00:12:54.025-07:00Returning to Kabul<iframe width="425" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/AxBqinyB01g?fs=1" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>So as I make my way this week going back to Afghanistan I have posted the photos from my last trip. It took me a while (a year and a half) to figure out how to post these but as the new trip approaches I figured it out - thank god for you tube. </div><div><br /></div><div>The first few photos are of Dubai and then go on to photos of Kabul and Istalif. The song is "Good Arms vs. Bad" by Frightened Rabbit.</div><div><br /></div><div>I guess it will serve as my long promised final blog posting from my last trip and the kick off to my journey back.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am finally packed and ready to go (I think) but nerves and Diet Coke have me unable to sleep.</div><div><br /></div><div>I realize I am a little less prepared this time. Last time I had done reading and studied up. This time with work and and my life being in a very different place than it was a year and a half ago - I find myself a little less sure - but excited as well. </div><div><br /></div><div>The few conversations I have had with Shoshana about the events of the weekend have brought on that excitement. Helping to prepare for and participate in an event in Afghanistan will definitely be different than what it is in NY or LA. I am intrigued to see the project completed and to be there as the institute and the running of Turquoise Mountain gets handed over to the Afghans.</div><div><br /></div><div>I fly in the morning through Dubai and then onto Kabul. </div><div><br /></div><div>Will post more then. Thanks all for your support.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17597787165512642036noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4120420138626307236.post-83808873591144055842009-10-01T04:17:00.000-07:002009-10-01T05:21:59.471-07:00Heading Home - part oneI am sitting in the airport in Kabul - waiting for the flight to Dubai.<br /><br />We started the day walking the city wall. The city wall is a wall that was built in 460 AD. It now exists on only one of the mountains but offers a commanding view of all of Kabul.<br /><br />Our hike began at 6 AM and we climbed as high as the monitoring blimp that flies over the city (yes, there is a blimp in the air over Kabul that monitors activities in the city - it can read the numbers on your watch someone said).<br /><br />It was a great way to start the day and finish our trip in Kabul. From the top of the ridge you could see Murat Khane, the old palace, Babur's Garden and hear the noise and the traffic of the city bounce its way around the valley and make its way upwards.<br /><br />Judy was a trooper - hiking the ridge despite her fear of heights.<br /><br />We packed our bags and went to the airport. Getting in is certainly easier than getting out. I was frisked 3 times before boarding the flight (I am on the plane now) and my bags were checked 4 times.<br /><br />Shoshana and Zia cleared the way for us - negotiating with customs agents (including the one who took the booze on my way in - this time he was going to take my batteries). Once again "Problem".<br /><br />The rest was negotiated in Dhari - apparently he said "yes, haven't you heard - no weapons, lighters, or batteries"<br /><br />After Shoshana gave him a whithering look - I left with my batteries. And at the additional check points I ran into no additional "customs fees" and a reduced rate for heavy bags.<br /><br />Total VIP. <br /><br />That Shoshana is a powerhouse.<br /><br />Preparing for takeoff - more from Dubai.Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17597787165512642036noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4120420138626307236.post-71400545134079819532009-09-30T10:58:00.000-07:002009-09-30T18:31:51.629-07:00Opening My Eyes<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidhVKwPe4iKlL88ihAVgjlTOvtYA07TsS9VBUt74V9IZQC8s6HGKnoCSkpAxOLyNJfVsCatJOF_9Dwm5o5c-_c6ufvGw-GRmX4_OVorgoR_zjNMYvkQ8xIWDT6Mb4XU_T7AKiUpNIC_SKm/s1600-h/IMG_8029.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidhVKwPe4iKlL88ihAVgjlTOvtYA07TsS9VBUt74V9IZQC8s6HGKnoCSkpAxOLyNJfVsCatJOF_9Dwm5o5c-_c6ufvGw-GRmX4_OVorgoR_zjNMYvkQ8xIWDT6Mb4XU_T7AKiUpNIC_SKm/s200/IMG_8029.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387438110658695266" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYjkV9tf2ogXFsNhkwYXDQGcnhdROhY5LFm35vDc3jNQPYhYNtboa764Ob32AmKo6tVjf4vQmfGEo5m690dWTqZYF5hb4z9oSD7DFotKXutfSS_ysjVx_M0hL1HxmdhkPbH2gYLtsIVAi3/s1600-h/IMG_8050.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYjkV9tf2ogXFsNhkwYXDQGcnhdROhY5LFm35vDc3jNQPYhYNtboa764Ob32AmKo6tVjf4vQmfGEo5m690dWTqZYF5hb4z9oSD7DFotKXutfSS_ysjVx_M0hL1HxmdhkPbH2gYLtsIVAi3/s200/IMG_8050.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387438099402336354" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1SFs4z1bwDtFB1XTVpddrspzjAAIumvqTFPq9mRvQmnYzK99EGQrDFFTZNM6YM7snRI6TG5p__ezK7yDnuieZ0j88ttWwnSNM_Tk2Bs62euA3MoMe-BWOgRL6WkbQf0fxspWBfiiCQjTh/s1600-h/IMG_8052.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1SFs4z1bwDtFB1XTVpddrspzjAAIumvqTFPq9mRvQmnYzK99EGQrDFFTZNM6YM7snRI6TG5p__ezK7yDnuieZ0j88ttWwnSNM_Tk2Bs62euA3MoMe-BWOgRL6WkbQf0fxspWBfiiCQjTh/s200/IMG_8052.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387438088936279554" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzIyxeHxefoBdiXxlef1RXcACACYaFNDOiocbrq6_KMClMRCHGP4qM_kuh_BDhJbLv9VGqrZTjESlDIDCSSKzlpwd25T5J-7az650GvfWX5cothoOO9PFGO9hMhrh2X94cqGofsvXsSwCz/s1600-h/IMG_8064.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzIyxeHxefoBdiXxlef1RXcACACYaFNDOiocbrq6_KMClMRCHGP4qM_kuh_BDhJbLv9VGqrZTjESlDIDCSSKzlpwd25T5J-7az650GvfWX5cothoOO9PFGO9hMhrh2X94cqGofsvXsSwCz/s200/IMG_8064.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387438079555934018" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv3YZa-YhDKsPY_FcqWsT3fjU4T4WEc_B7Mpl_MJcWR2GB-JSvACwCsKM8nKobiY70jio-ul1nchn4-59VlPfsUj5x_YNktJfVM8qPKkzjSj6kNCvdozgaVWRu-bJyiryqnT_4Z0-wPHtI/s1600-h/IMG_8090.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv3YZa-YhDKsPY_FcqWsT3fjU4T4WEc_B7Mpl_MJcWR2GB-JSvACwCsKM8nKobiY70jio-ul1nchn4-59VlPfsUj5x_YNktJfVM8qPKkzjSj6kNCvdozgaVWRu-bJyiryqnT_4Z0-wPHtI/s200/IMG_8090.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387438070081099378" /></a><br />As a foreigner it is necessary to be escorted anywhere you go in Kabul.<br /><br />Shoshana had a number of meetings with US dignitaries and as a result, Judy and I spent all day yesterday at the fort.<br /><br />We used our time to pour over the donor list figuring out new connections and ways to get each donor more involved with Turquoise Mountain.<br /><br />We spent the evening at a film screening at the Fort. A documentary about the nature of creativity as it relates to the Afghan crafts Turqoise Mountain is working to preserve.<br /><br />A Western point of view to be sure.<br /><br />Interesting to see the reaction some of the Afghans had to the film. Wondering how these arts were going to be brought to a wider Afghan community - beyond the expats.<br /><br />-------------------------<br /><br />After watching a presentation by the TM community development group this morning, where we learned about the demographics of the area, the many services of the clinic, and the school and its programs, we returned to Murat Khane today.<br /><br />The area has a population that is 80 percent under 17 - most of whom are males. This combined with a large unemployment problem is a factor that is of great concern as it leads to violence and radicalism (not so different than poor teens in urban environments in the US).<br /><br />Turquoise Mountain's efforts - through construction and trade work, has led to a severe decrease in unemployment. But there is a recognition that this employment is temporary.<br /><br />Because it was no longer EID we got to go into the classrooms and see the students at work. The minute we walked in there was a rousing "Salame" and the second grade class was fighting to read aloud for us.<br /><br />The classrooms were mixed with both boys and girls.<br /><br />We left Murat Khane and grabbed a quick lunch before heading for tea.<br /><br />Stocky and Judy had hosted an Afghan girl over the summer and we were going to pay a visit to her sister and husband who live in Kabul.<br /><br />The two are doctors at a Kabul hospital and we sat and listened as they talked about their life here.<br /><br />They both come from the countryside up North but had to come to Kabul for the training despite the fact that the pay is much less in the city than it is in the country ($150 per month! Vs. $300 in the country).<br /><br />The talk soon turned to the governement and what is possible for the future of Afghanistan. The husband was disheartened with the government and seemed unsure that there was any strong future for Afghanistan.<br /><br />"Security is less stable. Many want the international community out of Afganistan - but I am not sure that will be better."<br /><br />We soon left and dropped Shoshana off for a meeting at the ministry of communication.<br /><br />Judy, Zia, and I continued on to Baghe Babur. It is a garden that is the burial site for an emperor from the 1600's who wanted to be buried in Kabul because to him, it was the most beautiful place on earth.<br /><br />A great deal of work has gone into the site in the last 2 years. It is lush and green with trees, rose bushes and a fountain that flows like a river through the middle of the park.<br /><br />It is a sharp contrast to the dusty streets of Kabul and the sharp mountains that surround it.<br /><br />We walked around for an hour at sunset - the color was beautiful and the dust filled air glowed golden over the city.<br /><br />We left around 5:30 and Zia laughed at the thick traffic as we stepped outside.<br /><br />It was at a deadstop in front of us.<br /><br />In broken English he offered to take us in the opposite direction from all of the traffic - to drive us by the palace and museum.<br /><br />We drove and Zia tried to teach us the names of the neighborhoods as we zipped and bumped our way through the streets.<br /><br />We drove the Darulaman road and passed the former palace - a spectacular building now bombed out - with holes in the side and missing rooftops.<br /><br />It is spectacular and sad all at the same time.<br /><br />We asked Zia who had done this - was it the Taliban? the Americans? the Russians? There were so many choices.<br /><br />It had been destroyed by the warring factions of the Mujadeen during the Afghan civil war in the early 1990's.<br /><br />As I heard this and looked at the bombed out palace I could not help but think of what our host from tea had said today.<br />I also found myself thinking of the incredible effort and work being done by Turquoise Mountain to preserve Afghan culture and art.<br /><br />No one is sure of what Afghanistan's future will be and as rebuilding efforts continue throughout the city there are constant reminders that all of this could be temporary and no one knows this better than the residents of Kabul.<br /><br />It is hard to know how to nurture this progress and even more difficult to determine how to prevent it from being destroyed.Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17597787165512642036noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4120420138626307236.post-91630248735516778902009-09-28T10:40:00.000-07:002009-09-28T11:10:11.723-07:00Unconditional LoveThat is how Afghan hospitality was described to me today. Hospitality being their version of unconditional love.<br /><br />The custom is to welcome even strangers for tea. And if their enemy happens to be that stranger - so be it. <br /><br />If their enemy is threatened by an outsider while having tea. As a matter of pride they will fight to the death for that enemy.<br /><br />Graciousness and beauty has always existed alongside violence here.<br /><br />Like the kites that the children fly all over the city. They dance across the sky - literally dozens at a time. And while the kites soar - all of the kite strings are equipped to cut down any kite string that gets in its path.<br /><br />I went with 2 of the women from Turquoise Mountain today to shop on Chicken Street (the main merchant center) and then to buy kites in another area of town.<br /><br />The kite seller had a small store front on a dust covered street in downtown Kabul. Some of the tiny stand was filled with kites - but most of it was filled with different types of string. The shopkeeper showed me the strength of the string and then showed me how it could easily cut another string down. This was its most important selling feature - not how high the kite could fly.Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17597787165512642036noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4120420138626307236.post-1055962404899091802009-09-27T20:33:00.000-07:002009-09-27T20:45:10.443-07:00Istalif<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin6FBHFEO1PraxILAC7E4hhEVooNbkCSgcA773o3eDNE-M5rbZK4ExbEe-9ldZZcsFEFuLcUMQY4XcWrQgc6AzcZ6CcKTh02D8RI4a1ue8idKBZg9do_P3Sc214-r71sn-3GXM1J4WJ3uy/s1600-h/IMG_7871.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin6FBHFEO1PraxILAC7E4hhEVooNbkCSgcA773o3eDNE-M5rbZK4ExbEe-9ldZZcsFEFuLcUMQY4XcWrQgc6AzcZ6CcKTh02D8RI4a1ue8idKBZg9do_P3Sc214-r71sn-3GXM1J4WJ3uy/s200/IMG_7871.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386359184838028034" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmATIZw9QO043j-fi3grm8MKcgnc1aTe0Vl_8xY641Q6-wjn_sjoKdUa3JmeDh15PfDh1lKP7fbvIeL90YvRBuaPxT7KcsUXnLVOraOY9YPd7oRnmCJGHNyCUd-N3k0T8iDXJ7tfBw4Zo1/s1600-h/IMG_7852.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmATIZw9QO043j-fi3grm8MKcgnc1aTe0Vl_8xY641Q6-wjn_sjoKdUa3JmeDh15PfDh1lKP7fbvIeL90YvRBuaPxT7KcsUXnLVOraOY9YPd7oRnmCJGHNyCUd-N3k0T8iDXJ7tfBw4Zo1/s200/IMG_7852.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386359177471857986" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoM8PE03mcsmBAxwm44q8Zh5LE4zVaVBB6zYv4bN2kbokCx2Do5a7arRgf0JwtZ4AeNFjyY5JdXQ-Y-MT_vQ_U1qKpwGdrnLBLh1oH9a1BEYkbQ0HsTtu2zGRInBsv0aMYC5rjmsUFXg3O/s1600-h/IMG_7853.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoM8PE03mcsmBAxwm44q8Zh5LE4zVaVBB6zYv4bN2kbokCx2Do5a7arRgf0JwtZ4AeNFjyY5JdXQ-Y-MT_vQ_U1qKpwGdrnLBLh1oH9a1BEYkbQ0HsTtu2zGRInBsv0aMYC5rjmsUFXg3O/s200/IMG_7853.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386359171657344210" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYzMvZ0JeFjT8119GtbrBdJsd5k3rbu6z5WwufH9_dIyXFVcXW6Qr0mnjovj9aGxUoahnlZDQg5WIiFIEt4VaXOpu2ObIFuzu9MeOKO6DNdk1V3TuetssvgXQe6FCeyRZ4bgvaLaFtSe_b/s1600-h/IMG_7843.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYzMvZ0JeFjT8119GtbrBdJsd5k3rbu6z5WwufH9_dIyXFVcXW6Qr0mnjovj9aGxUoahnlZDQg5WIiFIEt4VaXOpu2ObIFuzu9MeOKO6DNdk1V3TuetssvgXQe6FCeyRZ4bgvaLaFtSe_b/s200/IMG_7843.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386359161516122706" /></a><br /><!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;">Return to regularly scheduled programming...<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;">Woke up early in the morning on Saturday so we could prepare for our hike in Istalif. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;">Istalif is an area about an hour and a half outside of Kabul. Istalif suffered greatly in the war between the Taliban and the Northern Alliance. It was occupied and then burned by the Taliban - trees were knocked down or burned as were houses and parts of the village. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;">Istalif had long been a retreat from the congestion of Kabul. Very much like going upstate is for some of us who live in New York. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;">Istalif was an early site of activity for Turquoise Mountain - partially because of the level of suffering and partially because of the history of crafts, most specifically pottery, that exists in the area. Istalif was famous for its pottery and when they began to rebuild one of the first things they repaired was the pottery center’s wheel and the kiln that had been destroyed.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;">We made our way to Istalif in the car with Zia, Shoshana, Judy and Ollie - one of the folks that works on the project in Murad Khane. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;">The beginning of the trip took us out of Kabul on a paved road. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;">About 40 minutes in we turned onto a bumpy dirt road and passed land that was beginning to be farmed and divided into different areas with walls made of mud brick. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;">The dirt road eventually thinned and we were grinding our way up the mountain on a thin path surrounded by walls of the village (or what remained of them).<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;">We passed people along the way men, women and children walking along the road.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>They backed up against the walls so we could pass. The women were all wearing burqas and when we first approached they had them pulled back so they could play with their children or watch over them as they walked down the mountain. When our car approached - they turned toward the wall or pulled the burqas down over their faces.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;">We arrived in the village and went to meet Islam Muhammed - one of the sons of the top ceramics man in the region. He agreed to walk us along the river and up the mountain. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;">We began our walk along the river on a rocky wooded path - much tree growth has taken place since the Taliban left in 2002. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;">The river rushes along nicely and Islam points with pride at the rock houses being rebuilt in the mountain side. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;">We wind our way up the mountain and pass children leaving school and happen upon other children shaking branches for walnuts. Their father offers all of us walnuts and we use rocks to break them on the rock wall. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;">There are many rock walls throughout the area. They terrace the land for the planting of grapes, mulberries, and walnuts and also separate the land for ownership purposes.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;">The walnuts are a little under-ripe and therefore moist and chewy but still taste good. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;">Some of the children follow us for a ways. Hoping to get their picture taken or just interested in the group of strangers that are here. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;">We walk for a little under two hours and take a break in a shaded area by the river. We watch as one man carries sticks on his back up the mountain and another leads a donkey, weighed down with bags, across the river. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;">Soon a large SUV pulls up out of nowhere and two men get out and begin to wash the car with buckets full of river water. This is only the second car we have seen today (the third is one we later help to push up the mountain as the car load of 6 men stops to say hello and gets stuck).<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;">We decide to turn back and begin our walk down the river.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;">Shoshana lets us know that Islam has invited us to tea in his garden.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We soon turn and begin hiking up another part of the mountain – we jump over rock walls and duck under tree branches.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We continue to climb and eventually come to a dry riverbed and climb another wall.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We sit under a tree in “Islam’s garden” which is really much of the land we have just traversed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>In front of us is a small patch of land that is a newly growing vineyard.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;">Islam leaves and returns with a blanket for us to sit on.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Following close on his trail are a group of children – 4 boys all between 6 and 8.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>They stand precariously on the side of the hill watching us with wide eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;">Soon a slightly older girl comes out with a silver tray with glass mugs for tea.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She hands this up the hill to the boys and runs off again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Before we know it we have in front of us cookies, homemade naan, and hot tea.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;">We sit on the hillside and Islam’s uncle joins us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He is much older with a weathered face, little round hat and watery blue eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;">Islam says something to the children and the boys all remove their shoes and walk across the blanket to greet each of us and shake our hands.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>“Salame Malakem.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Peace be on you indeed.</span></p> <!--EndFragment-->Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17597787165512642036noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4120420138626307236.post-80999576809863228072009-09-27T10:20:00.000-07:002009-09-27T11:01:36.838-07:00News BreakThere was the noise of gunfire and 2 loud booms we heard tonight at the fort. <div><br /></div><div>From what I understand some of this has been reported on the news. Wanted to give everyone an update.<br /><div><br /></div><div>When the first and loudest of the explosions happened - I left my room to investigate. I passed one of the architects and said "Did you hear that - what was it?" "Sounds like an explosion that happened not too far from here" and he proceeded to the kitchen to get himself a bottle of water. </div><div><br /></div><div>Not terribly comforting. </div><div><br /></div><div>I soon ran into Shoshana who let me know they were investigating to see what it was. </div><div><br /></div><div>No clear stories have come out about this but apparently the second of the explosions was a controlled explosion (like a mine they found and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">detonated</span>). Still unclear what the first one was and if there was a relationship between the two. </div><div><br /></div><div>All this to say we are safe. There were countless calls that Shoshana received from concerned people from other parts of Kabul as one of the explosions was reported as being in this area. </div><div><br /></div><div>As it happened there was a large group dinner planned this evening at the fort. There were great plates of hummus and lamb and bottles of wine passed around. </div><div><br /></div><div>Rory had returned from a couple of weeks away. He thanked everyone for being here and for all of their work. He reassured them there was great support for their work in the outside world and a real appreciation for what they are doing. He also raised a glass to welcome Judy and me.</div><div><br /></div><div>Everyone laughed and told stories as phones continued to ring and buzz with people checking in. </div><div><br /></div><div>Like going out to dinner on the night that 9/11 happened or clearing the fridge of champagne during the blackout - life goes on - and sometimes these experiences even bring us closer together. </div><div><br /></div><div>Thanks all for your kind thoughts and prayers.</div><div><br /></div><div>Stephen</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17597787165512642036noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4120420138626307236.post-8547615474903681732009-09-26T21:32:00.000-07:002009-09-27T03:47:45.934-07:00India House<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKX8p4WvXwQ1koIHyEgHAzYMF-fI6tUlnLpp2ojq2R9n9ETjRjA1inl_HcbX-laCbFkY4H2diIESuoMIUlr6yPK1RQW_y86-uXensUFM23LxJfEAsAzyiQ8cEd5PmrZILgLRfI5QTWz6o0/s1600-h/IMG_7761+1.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKX8p4WvXwQ1koIHyEgHAzYMF-fI6tUlnLpp2ojq2R9n9ETjRjA1inl_HcbX-laCbFkY4H2diIESuoMIUlr6yPK1RQW_y86-uXensUFM23LxJfEAsAzyiQ8cEd5PmrZILgLRfI5QTWz6o0/s200/IMG_7761+1.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386097041356075618" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz7ISMF-OUaCIvqHpH-QjXZ9ccD7MqZwAkMM3WZfQ11F6d7x2C0mhBcAiYrwBG1_HsR052cdxB0P_vWi7xwdu5-9zwYAk1mLBhUIty0WURPY1qTuoh1GFp7JSl8nevDceeMrqTe6Sz__Nv/s1600-h/IMG_7834.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz7ISMF-OUaCIvqHpH-QjXZ9ccD7MqZwAkMM3WZfQ11F6d7x2C0mhBcAiYrwBG1_HsR052cdxB0P_vWi7xwdu5-9zwYAk1mLBhUIty0WURPY1qTuoh1GFp7JSl8nevDceeMrqTe6Sz__Nv/s200/IMG_7834.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386097033006632002" /></a><br />Sorry for the delayed update. Internet access has not been as consistent lately.<div><br /></div><div>Following Friday's afternoon music event we went for more music and dinner at the India House - residence of the Indian Ambassador. We were stopped at 3 levels of security in what is sometimes referred to as the green zone. This exists in the center of the city and is where all of the embassies are located. </div><div><br /></div><div>We showed our invitations - (which they unfortunately took, I was hoping for a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">souvenir</span>). We pulled up to a large and beautiful house with a large lawn. A number of dignitaries were on the lawn having drinks and greeting each other. Shana and Noah were keeping me up to speed on the ambassador gossip - and we were soon greeted by the ambassador's wife and daughters. </div><div><br /></div><div>The 2 daughters had been to the bird market that day. A variety of birds are sold there. </div><div>Quail, which are used for fighting that people bet on. Pigeons, which are very revered and are used for a game between neighbors - the lead pigeon, a female, flies with her flock guided by sticks held by the owner. The sticks guide the lead bird around and the flock tries to attract the neighbors pigeons. </div><div><br /></div><div>I don't get it either but apparently its big bucks. A lead pigeon goes for $500 dollars in the bird market (about 2 months average Afghan salary).</div><div><br /></div><div>We soon went inside India House for a night of music. We all sat on large red cushions that were lined up in rows on the floor. The ambassador talked about how thankful he was that his family could be there to visit him (most ambassadors are not allowed to bring their wives or children with them - hence all the dignitary gossip).</div><div><br /></div><div>After the classic Indian music we sat for dinner and talked to one of the Indian diplomats who spoke about the number of projects India is funding in Afghanistan (apparently 1.2 billion dollars worth - including the road on which the electricity is run from Uzbekistan to Afghanistan). India has a heavy involvement in the rebuilding of Afghanistan - some question if this is for altruistic reasons or because of their difficult history with Pakistan - therefore hoping to utilize Afghanistan as a way to divert trade, etc from Pakistan.</div><div><br /></div><div>The rebuilding of a nation is a difficult process - and a newly global economy that has a memory of grievances that are many year's old - the process becomes even more complex and difficult. </div><div><br /></div><div>I do not have any photographs of the India House as I did not bring my camera with me for fear of its being taken. But I do have a photo of the singer from that evening from earlier in the day.</div><div><br /></div><div><div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div></div>Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17597787165512642036noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4120420138626307236.post-34288302656295544762009-09-25T10:58:00.000-07:002009-09-25T11:01:21.866-07:00BEARD UPDATE!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi97Br7PQJZQkEnbtWPmDBmv7IOBJ6bTyHmu-VWkH88FePq71LOFZfUQhLkKLDGxBU41gFtnl9AnLE-X0yKfI3GSqeeoKbLdiWS4yJFrUnWEwmPF6LAGE9Qpa1xFrEFLkWxpjAAzTOvq1V8/s1600-h/Photo+5.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi97Br7PQJZQkEnbtWPmDBmv7IOBJ6bTyHmu-VWkH88FePq71LOFZfUQhLkKLDGxBU41gFtnl9AnLE-X0yKfI3GSqeeoKbLdiWS4yJFrUnWEwmPF6LAGE9Qpa1xFrEFLkWxpjAAzTOvq1V8/s200/Photo+5.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385466588265645698" /></a><br />For those interested - here is an update on the beard. Its a bit scraggly (and as it turns out not at all necessary) But I figure if I am already 11 days in - lets see what happens.Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17597787165512642036noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4120420138626307236.post-67383999859004052272009-09-25T00:15:00.000-07:002009-09-25T10:48:25.803-07:00Murad Khane<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE8mNBuO3UpVd9l9FKXv9wvGYThOJ35V1XTzzwAdW1crwoO4RszmyCmWSohxXjxgFfcZwG9_Fag0HQayR9yMuoYc-N6PK9rwX4QCdKylX2m5EklBMTzsjH6F1z8KpU2-o1JfkhmTKZ5UBZ/s1600-h/IMG_7750+1.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE8mNBuO3UpVd9l9FKXv9wvGYThOJ35V1XTzzwAdW1crwoO4RszmyCmWSohxXjxgFfcZwG9_Fag0HQayR9yMuoYc-N6PK9rwX4QCdKylX2m5EklBMTzsjH6F1z8KpU2-o1JfkhmTKZ5UBZ/s200/IMG_7750+1.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385362062273219794" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtxSH7x_LKUO1R6uomseT5O-xjRjKscwAdCKH8LBjqDsZcFj9foCj8Q6DhesfULDonMEkA_5MKCHF2ASyGeRRoQOWIa8unpAnNbhp2MG1cIr6DycrVjDGjXoMuvFbQBriiJQ3Uw3KpAggG/s1600-h/IMG_7805+1.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtxSH7x_LKUO1R6uomseT5O-xjRjKscwAdCKH8LBjqDsZcFj9foCj8Q6DhesfULDonMEkA_5MKCHF2ASyGeRRoQOWIa8unpAnNbhp2MG1cIr6DycrVjDGjXoMuvFbQBriiJQ3Uw3KpAggG/s200/IMG_7805+1.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385362056446258242" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHF0CJxShJREB8Sme2_ejSoiduaZmWXkXWkQQ4-QbepnSk5QGXWWfxuiFk7jn0taYm-GxN57PIE62IekTiI9bc-a9paKQBArDLNCdRurKNUMqrSXzvzTgDQx7EO5YPSca_HLGLYL4voef_/s1600-h/IMG_7808+1.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHF0CJxShJREB8Sme2_ejSoiduaZmWXkXWkQQ4-QbepnSk5QGXWWfxuiFk7jn0taYm-GxN57PIE62IekTiI9bc-a9paKQBArDLNCdRurKNUMqrSXzvzTgDQx7EO5YPSca_HLGLYL4voef_/s200/IMG_7808+1.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385362048052453186" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7j_AZ2x6MB9W-Db0MMXwf_x_5OGrHhyU3_lfGGGwg5PxvxZXYG6eFQdCS3oyfXR9cgLCA-nMxiMVMwnrJeT_iGIrIZTQwQck-WfWbM6VGua1rtTD3K-ZGeiF3r7aJynY7XjiWKwphgobl/s1600-h/IMG_7769+1.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7j_AZ2x6MB9W-Db0MMXwf_x_5OGrHhyU3_lfGGGwg5PxvxZXYG6eFQdCS3oyfXR9cgLCA-nMxiMVMwnrJeT_iGIrIZTQwQck-WfWbM6VGua1rtTD3K-ZGeiF3r7aJynY7XjiWKwphgobl/s200/IMG_7769+1.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385362037322013634" /></a><br />We decided to take it a little bit easy today and ease into our Friday. Most have the day off from the building project of Murad Khane. Early this morning there was even a bit of a chill in the air which is nice after the midday sun of yesterday's walk around the district.<div><br /></div><div>I had breakfast with Noah, Shoshana, and Judy and then did some yoga in the courtyard. It is strange to move from war zone observer to spa like vacation in the space of a day. </div><div><br /></div><div>I sit here now writing and looking out the window as they prepare for the music festival taking place in the courtyard later today. It seems event preparation is the same the world over. Rushing around, last minute changes to the set up, continued updates to the guest list.</div><div><br /></div><div>There was an option to go and play ultimate frisbee today at a soccer field at one of the local schools. One of the few remaining fields that exists in the country. A number of expats who work here with USAID, various research projects, etc go every week. It is a way to blow off steam and reduce the intensity of their day to day life. I asked Noah when it started - he told me that when he first came in 2004 it was happening and it has continued despite the fact that no one from that original crew is left. They have also moved locations 3 times. It is obvious this activity is important to them and gives the group a sense of normalcy.</div><div><br /></div><div>We decided to opt out of this. Not just because of my obvious lack of hand-eye coordination - but also because each day here feels like three. The days have been so full - with new experiences - eye opening, sad, inspiring, and unique that I decided it was time to take a step back before proceeding further. </div><div><br /></div><div>I knew that later this afternoon there would be the music festival and then a trip to the Ambassador of India's House for a night of music followed by dinner. (I even got an invite with my name on it!)</div><div><br /></div><div>We met the Ambassador, his wife, and two daughters when Shoshana was giving them a tour of Murad Khane - the historic part of town that Turquoise Mountain is preserving and rebuilding. It was once a thriving and wealthy trade district - that was the site of much of the civil war. It is now in deep disrepair. </div><div><br /></div><div>The work being done there is unbelievable for so many reasons - for the size of the project - over 8 buildings and worksites - the amount of work that has been done - and also the amount that still needs to be accomplished. <br /></div><div><br /></div><div>In this part of town - there is open sewage throughout - the smell permeates the air. This problem has been mitigated by covering some of the sewage canals with paving stones - but this is true only on some streets where TM has made some inroads. They have cleaned many of the streets - streets that were once piled high with trash. Trash that would go above your waist - trash so high you would have to crawl over it on your belly to get through covered alleyways.</div><div><br /></div><div>In this area of town they have preservation projects - they are taking what remains of existing buildings and rebuilding them with historic accuracy - incorporating the woodworking crafts and other details. Many of these will be turned into workshops and stores for all of the Turquoise Mountain disciplines. Others they are building from the ground up - with a respect for what has been done before. In all cases the issue of sustainability is key. This permeates all discussions from how the buildings will be built to what kind of maintenance is realistic for the water treatment.</div><div><br /></div><div>We walked through the area with Shoshana early in the day. She said hello to many shop keepers and others on the street "Asalamu alaykum!" and asked after their families and how their holiday was.</div><div> <br /></div><div>One, who Shoshana later referred to as the deputy Mayor, invited us to tea at his house. We accepted the invitation and were led down an alleyway into his house. We removed our shoes and climbed the stairs to the second floor. As is traditional in Afghan houses - there were pillows all along the wall. We each took a seat as his daughter excitedly brought in dishes of sugared nuts, almond cookies, and a crispy sweet bread made by his wife. ("EID leftovers but still delicious" Shoshana said to us in English.) </div><div><br /></div><div>We talked about politics - our host preferring McCain to Obama - (his white hair shows his experience - Obama does not have enough white hair yet. All of this communicated in a combination of Dhari and hand signals ). </div><div><br /></div><div>At another point he mentioned Michael Jackson. ("Michael Jackson #1" he said - breaking his Dhari and hand signals for the first time buy it was very clear what he was talking about so I could fully understand on my own).</div><div><br /></div><div>He then grabbed his big toe and nodded his head. Shoshana looked confused. I guessed that he was referring to Michael's signature stand on his toes dance move.</div><div><br /></div><div>We left soon after and went to meet the Ambassador and his family. </div><div><br /></div><div>We walked with the family through the multiple sites - the women's building - new construction that would one day house a health clinic for women's services along with other facilities including a Hamam (currently they are only allowed to use the existing one on Wednesdays).</div><div><br /></div><div>We walked through the newer buildings and met with one of the architects who is refurbishing a 144 room building (120 of these rooms have been done). </div><div><br /></div><div>We walked around for another 2 hours - the dust is so thick that you can practically feel it coating your lungs. </div><div><br /></div><div>Following our tour we all sat for lunch in the peacock house. It was quite a spread. Lamb kebob sandwiches with Naan. Rice with raisins and carrots. Fresh fruit (which I have been warned not to eat as my short stay will not give me enough time to get used to it).</div><div><br /></div><div>We sat and I listened as Noah and the Ambassador discussed the election. It was posited that the corruption and violence here, versus an election in India, was minimal at best. And therefore the election would be dubbed a success - a peaceful discourse about a shift in power.</div><div><br /></div><div>There was much discussion of where corruption truly exists in Afghanistan - in the government or in the foreign contracts. Contractors take a large fee and then hire subcontractor to do the work. With all of the deals and subcontracts $150 million for a roads project quickly turns into $60 million actually being spent on roads. </div><div><br /></div><div>It was interesting to hear the different perspectives and to get a sense of what everyone thought of the possible success or failure of democracy in this country. </div><div><br /></div><div>It seems on one hand democracy has been successful with another election with minimal violence (with admittedly a still undetermined outcome.) </div><div><br /></div><div>On the other hand the government does not operate as a democracy in that it does not represent or support the needs of its people (trash removal, clean roads, clean water! - these are all being done by private groups - only recently have they begun to support and subsidize working electricity for the city). </div><div><br /></div><div>Individuals at lower levels in the government also regularly accept bribes (I am short one bottle of Makers Mark to prove it). This behavior combined with the lack of services and support reduces people's faith in the government and makes me question if a centralized government (vs. individual community leaders and yes, warlords) can ever be successful. </div><div><br /></div><div>These questions continued to swirl as we went to a barbecue with a group of expat researchers and others. I speak to one who is researching livelihood and food throughout Afghanistan. His research (supported by research with the same families done 5 years ago) tries to assess how people make a living and feed themselves in the face of trauma.</div><div><br /></div><div>They have come up with some interesting findings. </div><div><br /></div><div>The Afghan communities support each other. If one family is down they are often able to get food, credit, and other needs fulfilled by other members of the community. Much of the research is re-informing how aid is being supplied to this country. </div><div><br /></div><div>After taking all of this in I am sure you can see why I needed a day off. (After slogging through my rants and ramblings - you might need a day off).</div><div><br /></div><div>After this morning at the fort Shoshana, Judy and I went to coffee and discussed different options for Turquoise Mountain for fundraising, events and development. It was great to brainstorm ideas and bring some of my knowledge to the discussion. We are going to meet again next week when the rest of the staff is back.</div><div><br /></div><div>The music festival is beginning outside my window. The courtyard is filled with rugs and cushions and now sitar music accompanying a male voice. People have begun to file in slowly.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am going to join them.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17597787165512642036noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4120420138626307236.post-52397342587988771442009-09-23T20:05:00.000-07:002009-09-24T06:19:10.187-07:00Arrival<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdffzpsq_J98vhidFdCSDKeON5vAbNmmfhuf-g8BENZjkj90Bc1itlaPCEB5HTvVKIE8R5dynGXIOWHJed88WJKIaTQ-1xIR2d_PsILdX8loudJhuqP6SiScoXiNVR-__dlomvZiadV5ZQ/s1600-h/IMG_7823.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdffzpsq_J98vhidFdCSDKeON5vAbNmmfhuf-g8BENZjkj90Bc1itlaPCEB5HTvVKIE8R5dynGXIOWHJed88WJKIaTQ-1xIR2d_PsILdX8loudJhuqP6SiScoXiNVR-__dlomvZiadV5ZQ/s200/IMG_7823.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385022755007003282" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEfc9LZako8NhHG_-OU8jv7JOGPAVooZXYDyjh2-OAD8yhsLY5-ndCLIQJwSDd6LayK9R34bkEe_CzXhfom4lJ9lNIvxv99QUh8MDKOh-85DG0Kc0Sn606LXXPvJXz-T3H5_RDGnoUl5b8/s1600-h/IMG_7815.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEfc9LZako8NhHG_-OU8jv7JOGPAVooZXYDyjh2-OAD8yhsLY5-ndCLIQJwSDd6LayK9R34bkEe_CzXhfom4lJ9lNIvxv99QUh8MDKOh-85DG0Kc0Sn606LXXPvJXz-T3H5_RDGnoUl5b8/s200/IMG_7815.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385022747498430226" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijkFev0CK42QOU7UkIZighhbD0N9a4q-fVZtwm6_cuhpIB6JRr4uJLKeegfjmeKTC2RmQSqEo3uOR41o1U7uoGoZw9u0FjjSZyblhqW7G1WoLx6zCciN2VFt_qs-hqh2aIsLY4ncAHb6OI/s1600-h/IMG_7808.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijkFev0CK42QOU7UkIZighhbD0N9a4q-fVZtwm6_cuhpIB6JRr4uJLKeegfjmeKTC2RmQSqEo3uOR41o1U7uoGoZw9u0FjjSZyblhqW7G1WoLx6zCciN2VFt_qs-hqh2aIsLY4ncAHb6OI/s200/IMG_7808.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385022741807631410" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtRTAV4CPsULOiuheu9zvodpDDkHQywUdzEHOPjiRycV-6cDG04pz8AB4n6O6qrxIukUgRr-ewSEXxe3zHxbAa-0J-yKzCR-vLn4qf7umwD7SkIoUWnIMX6XMQX3D9EGr20QplUE7lUsWk/s1600-h/IMG_7802.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtRTAV4CPsULOiuheu9zvodpDDkHQywUdzEHOPjiRycV-6cDG04pz8AB4n6O6qrxIukUgRr-ewSEXxe3zHxbAa-0J-yKzCR-vLn4qf7umwD7SkIoUWnIMX6XMQX3D9EGr20QplUE7lUsWk/s200/IMG_7802.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385022734453160002" /></a><br />We got up early this morning to leave Dubai. The wake up call came at 3:45 and we were out the door by 10 after 4.<div><br /></div><div>Our 6:30 flight took off easily. The plane was filled with mostly male passengers. A combination of middle easterners dressed in traditional clothing - combined with contract workers for the US government (read: Black Rock) - with a business man or two thrown in. Judy and I were the only tourists.</div><div><br /></div><div>The flight over was peaceful and calm. The sun rose as we flew over the mountains and into Afghanistan.</div><div><br /></div><div>After landing, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">buses</span> took us on the short ride from the plane to the new airport terminal. </div><div><br /></div><div>We filled out our foreigner's registration card application and proceeded to the carousel to get our luggage. </div><div><br /></div><div>All without a hitch. </div><div><br /></div><div>Judy and I proceeded to put our bags on the belt for scanning in order to gain final entry into the country. Carry-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">ons</span></span>, our checked luggage and the chocolate, other treats and booze we had bought from Duty Free, for Shoshana and Noah and the staff from Turquoise Mountain, all went on the belt. </div><div><br /></div><div>When I got through the to the other side of the belt the customs agent who was on the other side grabbed the Duty Free bags looked at me and said "Problem".</div><div><br /></div><div>I knew that alcohol service and consumption was looked down upon in Afghanistan and not allowed in Islamic countries - therefore alcohol was not readily available. Which is of course why we were bringing this stuff in the first place - plus I thought, as long as it said Duty Free - everything was <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">ok</span></span>. Isn't Duty Free the international get out of jail free card?</div><div><br /></div><div>I looked at him directly, heart beating, and said "what is the problem?"</div><div><br /></div><div>Judy said to me under her breath - "shoot, we should have put the bottles in the bags. Let me go find Shana - she should be able to help." She proceeded to grab her bags and walk to the other side of the wall.</div><div><br /></div><div>I looked at the agent again and said - "I do not understand - what is problem?"<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>He grabbed the Makers Mark bottle out of the bag - looked back at his cronies and nodded his head. He handed me the bag with the rest of the bottles and said "Its <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">ok</span></span>".</div><div><br /></div><div>I thought about protesting further and then thought better of it - this was not JFK after all. I grabbed to rest of the loot and left.</div><div><br /></div><div>When I got to the other side of the wall I greeted Shoshana who was speaking in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Dhari</span></span> to another agent. She welcomed me and apologized for the trouble. When I told her what had happened - she laughed saying that she had brought whiskey in many times but it was never taken because <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">her's</span> was cheap. The guards were obviously after "the good stuff". </div><div><br /></div><div>The irony is - Judy and I had initially grabbed a bottle of Jim Beam but were encouraged by a puffy whisky connoisseur at the duty free to get the Makers Mark saying "It's worth it - you won't regret it."</div><div><br /></div><div>Shana and Zia - the driver for the foundation - walked us to the car. </div><div><br /></div><div>Driving through the hectic and busy streets was overwhelming. It was the end of Ramadan so there were a number of people flying kites, many pedestrians and a glut of cars that moved quickly with no <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">discernable</span> lanes. Cars drove very fast and very close to each other. </div><div><br /></div><div>As we drove Shana pointed out things of interest - the large wedding palaces with light up palm trees in front, the new construction of housing going up in various places along the main road, the new trees that had been planted along the road through private funding. We zipped down the road until we turned off into the area of town where the Fort is. </div><div><br /></div><div>We then bumped along a pavement free, trash strewn road. There were people all along it - women in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">burqas</span></span>, children playing, men with wheel barrows, and the occasional car dodging as we weaved down our course.</div><div><br /></div><div>We pulled up to the walled entrance to the fort. An armed guard was outside of the gate. The doors were opened by another armed guard and Shana joked how they never checked the car for bombs if she was in it - despite her encouraging them to do so. </div><div><br /></div><div>"They know how to use their guns now though. We found the only 6 men between 18 and 24 in Afghanistan who did not know how to use guns and promptly hired them as guards". I laughed at the casual nature of her statement as much as I was laughing at what she said.</div><div><br /></div><div>We entered the fort itself and it was like being in an Italian villa. Mountains all around, beautiful fruit trees including pomegranates and pears. A beautiful center courtyard with a lawn that was being freshly cut. </div><div><br /></div><div>I was brought to my room - actually Rory's room - a beautiful space with overlapping red rugs on the floor and embroidered red curtains hanging at the windows There was a private bath and an additional seating area.</div><div><br /></div><div>Shana then gave us a tour of the institute which consists of 4 schools - woodworking, calligraphy, gems, and ceramics. </div><div><br /></div><div>Not many students were there because the holiday, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Eid</span></span>, was still lingering. Officially a 3 day holiday - but people want it to be 5 days - so they take 5 days.</div><div><br /></div><div>The students who were there showed us beautiful work. Geometric wood carving - <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Jolley</span></span> style - put together into large screens through a complex system of notches - no glue used at all. Intricate carvings made into doors - screens - pillars for bed posts.</div><div><br /></div><div>We met the master calligrapher who showed us beautiful mandalas, and detailed writing of poems by <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Rumi</span></span> embellished with pictures and designs. All pieces done in the 4 main styles of calligraphy.</div><div><br /></div><div>The gem makers showed us the gem cutting they do and then the jewels that they create with them. One of the things Afghanistan is rich in is gems - but because they no longer have facilities to refine and cut these gems - all of the stones, not to mention the profits go to neighboring countries like Pakistan. </div><div><br /></div><div>In the making of the jewelry - Shana explained that one of the biggest challenges was getting them to create their own new designs - now that they had the skills to copy those of the traditional jewelry makers - they needed to bring their own vision to the pieces. Individualization of design - in all areas - is one of the hardest things to cultivate. </div><div><br /></div><div>At each stop - in the compound of the fort - Shoshana would speak to people, some in English some in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Dhari</span></span>, about the business of the day. New <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">supplies</span> to be ordered, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">someone's</span></span> travel schedule, new projects being discussed, security concerns due to a rally happening in town. </div><div><br /></div><div>She had it all under control.</div><div><br /></div><div>Judy and I were a little worn out due to the early morning travel. I laid down for a nap and when I woke up went to the main table off the courtyard.</div><div><br /></div><div>The table seems to be the centerpiece of social interaction at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Qala</span></span>-e-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Norborja</span></span> (the fort of nine towers - although only one tower is left). The table is an ever-changing mix of people from all over the world. </div><div><br /></div><div>At one point I found myself in conversation with 2 German engineers who were creating a plan to resolve the open sewage problem in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Murad</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Khane</span></span>, the part of town in the historic district that Turquoise Mountain is revitalizing.</div><div><br /></div><div>The engineer has put in similar systems all over the world from India to his home town in Germany.</div><div><br /></div><div>We soon left to meet Shoshana's husband Noah for dinner. Zia drove us to an expat place called <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">L'Internationale</span></span>, a French restaurant in the western part of Kabul.</div><div><br /></div><div>Getting into the restaurant was harder than getting into Bungalow 8 back in the day. </div><div><br /></div><div>There are 2 guards at the small main door that has no sign. They speak through a small gated window and the door opens. We are led into a room where the man pats me down and asks if we have any weapons. "Not today" Shana jokingly responds.</div><div><br /></div><div>The man then screams "shark" and another small gated window on the next door opens. Another armed guard greets us and we are led through that room to another door with a small gated window. "Shark" is screamed one more time and the door opens.</div><div><br /></div><div>We are led to a beautiful candle lit courtyard with trees and various seating areas with couches and overstuffed chairs.</div><div><br /></div><div>The juxtaposition of everything is far too much to take. The armed guards leading us to a courtyard where we sit for dinner - the excess of Dubai and the mud brick buildings of Kabul.</div><div><br /></div><div>Over our French dinner we discuss Noah's work on judicial policy in the provinces and his side project creating a report on the election, its process and results. There is another woman there who works with Noah and talks about her husband's work creating wind turbines for renewable energy creation in Kabul.</div><div><br /></div><div>At the end of dinner I am completely wiped out, overwhelmed and find myself in a dream-like daze. The intensity of the day, the city, and taking everything in has been <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">exhausting</span>. </div><div><br /></div><div>We make our way back to the fort. I head directly to my room and I fall into a deep sleep. It is only 9:00 PM.</div>Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17597787165512642036noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4120420138626307236.post-63082249331000903032009-09-23T05:38:00.000-07:002009-09-23T09:50:08.886-07:00Du-bye<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqMlQ92FEbOpaXl_wPzJm62Ct5BXDmdJ0rROHWinFL4g0K-iB6fHpZ299FGMb3n3Vre7Z3z6274VGNcOQiZj3U4XEYqcGyffgvuLDrhlky0BiUNipG4JBAa8XE5a4M1D_Ny7bKpdnLIm7R/s1600-h/IMG_7737.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqMlQ92FEbOpaXl_wPzJm62Ct5BXDmdJ0rROHWinFL4g0K-iB6fHpZ299FGMb3n3Vre7Z3z6274VGNcOQiZj3U4XEYqcGyffgvuLDrhlky0BiUNipG4JBAa8XE5a4M1D_Ny7bKpdnLIm7R/s320/IMG_7737.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384705416728624146" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFE2UNmbNA81aJ0RY6w8GzdrA4eUfVjGv0HKgTS8KmzO0zt1ZlbQc3eaI-oN6o2AhQclLLTHDCif4zV7mk-V28foM2Ofg2JA8BUw6PCvutHuk9rsLiOFFFrqMR1mUwrRIuTahjnCIDoLt1/s1600-h/IMG_7724.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFE2UNmbNA81aJ0RY6w8GzdrA4eUfVjGv0HKgTS8KmzO0zt1ZlbQc3eaI-oN6o2AhQclLLTHDCif4zV7mk-V28foM2Ofg2JA8BUw6PCvutHuk9rsLiOFFFrqMR1mUwrRIuTahjnCIDoLt1/s320/IMG_7724.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384705408545088946" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA9HfUQSIULxfLErnCe5ewghUwu18QnsSYQ5H6HNjikZNuZuwBJF-9hfQy7TIMdZDhVJTgl5UyjBEgu9YJ5G0GmdY-Wv9PJusCNED3MSM5T9IjeXXQv3D1ZL8Vsi0rPNH5VfK5a0ScFrho/s1600-h/IMG_7702.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA9HfUQSIULxfLErnCe5ewghUwu18QnsSYQ5H6HNjikZNuZuwBJF-9hfQy7TIMdZDhVJTgl5UyjBEgu9YJ5G0GmdY-Wv9PJusCNED3MSM5T9IjeXXQv3D1ZL8Vsi0rPNH5VfK5a0ScFrho/s320/IMG_7702.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384705400956188786" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgREFzvkdQw4r0dwmzAbo1WcTHn5qra5_mzxg8DRtXpwrOk7y4E3e4PVHIf6Ucw1Bc4KbwYyZ3zlImm683UIqJ2P49o_BlllG1akQAOwFFYAcmYKLsYXMXAfsNEHImj3FhNsipYGPECvVSW/s1600-h/IMG_7794.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgREFzvkdQw4r0dwmzAbo1WcTHn5qra5_mzxg8DRtXpwrOk7y4E3e4PVHIf6Ucw1Bc4KbwYyZ3zlImm683UIqJ2P49o_BlllG1akQAOwFFYAcmYKLsYXMXAfsNEHImj3FhNsipYGPECvVSW/s320/IMG_7794.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384705396516341746" /></a><br />We spent the day touring Dubai yesterday. <div> </div><div>Dubai to me is like Los Angeles sprawl had a one night stand with Las Vegas glitz that resulted in a baby left to raise itself. <br /></div><div><div><br /></div><div>OK - I may be taking the metaphor a bit too far - but really - this place is out of control. </div><div><br /></div><div>I will say that the over abundance of wealth and the competition for biggest, best and shiniest - has made for some pretty interesting structures - not to mention that new metro system - which is quite fantastic.</div><div><br /></div><div>The system opened on September 9th. It is very clean with air-conditioned stations that are a great relief from the dead heat of the desert (and might be nice on a New York summer day too).</div><div><br /></div><div>The most amusing part of the ride is that there is a soundtrack - a bouncing tune that plays between station stops and keeps everything lite and moving along. I can only guess this was written specifically for the rail. (I have a recording of it for those interested - thanks Lisa).</div><div><br /></div><div>We saw many of the over the top sites of the city: we rode in a taxi onto Palm Island, saw Burj Al Arab (the sail hotel - and incidentally, the tallest hotel in the world), we checked out the indoor ski slope at one of the many malls in Dubai. </div><div><br /></div><div>It is all quite fantastical and over the top but like Las Vegas - for me 24 hours is enough. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17597787165512642036noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4120420138626307236.post-70224904639693090722009-09-21T20:36:00.000-07:002009-09-21T21:14:51.501-07:00You say Dubai and i say helloWe managed to get bulkhead seats on the flight over - although in a middle seat - my legs were quite happy about the extra room.<br /><br />Emirates is quite an airline - I love that there is a camera at the nose of the plane that shows take off and landing on the monitors.<br /><br />I also loved that when they turned down the lights for people to go to sleep - the ceiling lit up with a constellation of LED stars.<br /><br />We got off in Dubai - and the massive airport is like a Blade Runner Airport as coceived by a vegas review designer. A large metallic space ship that lit up was the first thing we saw when getting off the plane. The airport is filled with huge white columns that glitter and sparkle, multi-color LED walls that light up surrounding a black marble waterfall. <br /><br />Being surrounded by this crisp, clean, illiminated, over the top environment as the day's final call to prayer came over the speakers made the whole place seem otherworldly while familiar all at the same time. <br /><br />It is nighttime so we made our way to the hotel - within spitting distance of the airport. Its a resort geared towards business travelers, le Meridian Dubai - with 16 restaurants and 3 pools.<br /><br />It felt similar to resorts you would find elsewhere - with the requisite over-priced restaurants (French! Sushi! Italian!). I could be in Dubai or Puerto Rico and not really know - except for the number of Sheiks walking around and the arabic writing on each sign (under the writing in English, of course).<br /><br />Its a good place for transition though - and that was the whole idea. Today we will tour many of the over the top sites in Dubai - indoor snow skiing, Palm Island, etc.<br /><br />We are going to try to do most of this via the brand new metro which just opened last week.<br /><br />More after we tour - when I have had the chance to see more than the lights on the ceiling of my Emirates flight.Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17597787165512642036noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4120420138626307236.post-84499365307897942902009-09-17T22:24:00.000-07:002009-09-17T23:29:56.990-07:00Here GoesSo a few people have asked me to stay in touch while I am in Afghanistan. Not to mention the few that have asked me not to go - or those who have asked why I am not going to Hawaii instead. In deference to the former and with nothing against the latter - I have decided to blog about my trip.<div><br /></div><div>I leave on Sunday - but knew I needed to get things going before I left. This blog is the first step I have taken other than booking my trip, applying for a visa and oh yeah, making the commitment to go. </div><div><br /></div><div>Many have asked why I am going. </div><div><br /></div><div>The simple answer is that the opportunity presented itself and I decided to take advantage of it. </div><div><br /></div><div>The Clarks have always given me the opportunity to push my limits and get out of my comfort zone. It seems, at the ripe old age of 37 - they are doing so again.</div><div><br /></div><div>For those who don't know - the Clarks are life long friends of my family. My parents used to stay up all night with them on Christmas Eve building toys (and an infamous Mickey Mouse House) for my brothers and I. When we moved from Upstate New York to Nashville - we lived with them for 3 months while we were in transition. </div><div><br /></div><div>As a tween and teenager I would visit for weeks in the summer and regale them with tales of my teenage angst. They were good listeners who challenged my teenage thinking while also being supportive of me as I developed ideas about the world.</div><div><br /></div><div>Their daughter, Shoshana, is the Managing Director of the Turquoise Mountain Foundation in Kabul. http://www.turquoisemountain.org/. Turquoise Mountain is an organization founded on the idea that Afghan culture needs to be preserved and is dying in the face of the years of wars that have torn their country apart. </div><div><br /></div><div>Judy, Shoshana's mother, said she was going and I jumped at the chance to join her.</div><div><br /></div><div>I do not know a great deal about the culture - I have read Rory's book, "The Places in Between" and am partway through "Kabul Beauty School" - another book about an Afghani interloper.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am hoping to do some work while I am there. Not sure what that will be or what it will look like.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am hoping to learn about a culture that - by reputation - has no use for a gay American who produces parties for an evil media empire.</div><div><br /></div><div>I must also admit that I am hoping to to gain a bit of perspective on who that gay party planner is.</div><div><br /></div><div>Am I scared? - a bit. My brother David said my plan lacked common sense. As usual - I think he is right. </div><div><br /></div><div>But instead I have taken the philosophy that Judy, Shoshana's mother, gave me. When I sent an email asking about a recent bombing at the Kabul airport - she wrote one back entitled "boom boom".</div><div><br /></div><div>"This is all happening very far away. If there was a mugging in New Haven, does that mean that you shouldn't go to New Haven?" And while I admit that you could drive a truck through the holes in her theory - she has a point. </div><div><br /></div><div>We are not at war with this country. We are at war with a certain group that has terrorized our country as well as theirs. A very important distinction.</div><div><br /></div><div>My mother thinks that I have lost my mind. I have convinced her that this is my mid life crisis and that my trip is equivalent to a cherry red convertible. She offered to buy me the car instead of taking the trip. (Don't tell Jim).</div><div><br /></div><div>And while on the topic of Jim. Thank you for all of the support on this. </div><div><br /></div><div>Thank you also to Lisa for cheering on this idea and encouraging me to do it. Thank you Aliya for doing the same and for the beautiful gift. Thank you Adam for hooking me up with your friends and also for inspiring the blog title that I have co-opted. Thanks also to everyone at work who have supported me in taking this trip and thank you Babis for including me in your prayers and to the many others who have expressed concern, support, encouragement and even doubt. </div><div><br /></div><div>I can think of a million reasons not to go. But the beard is coming in nicely (if slowly) and god knows I can't get away with a beard in Chelsea. Here's hoping it passes in Kabul.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17597787165512642036noreply@blogger.com2