Out and About

The title of this post pretty much describes what I've been doing over the past few days.  We've been busy little government bureaucrats, but at least we're out of the office.

A few days ago, a group of us went on a walk through the bazaar right here in Hutal.  We needed to get a good look at some areas where we might do some projects to improve the place.  The goal is to make it more of an economic engine for this really, really poor district.  So our group of Army Civil Affairs people and DST members, along with a contingent of seriously-armed soldiers, met up with the District Governor in the morning.  We wandered up and down the three main thoroughfares, looking at the roads (dirt), parking areas (dirt), ramps off the highway (dirt), and areas where we might put sidewalks and other pedestrian control features (gravel and dirt).  We also checked out the grounds of the government-run clinic to check on its wells, power, security, and general condition.  Our stroll took about an hour and we returned back to the COP before it got too hot.

Regarding the general condition of the bazaar, I'd say that it makes Tijuana look like Beverly Hills.  The shops are tiny, most of them around 8-10 feet wide, maybe 10-15 feet deep, made out of mud bricks with dirt floors.  Some of them have electricity provided by either a small solar panel on the roof or else a small portable generator.  No a/c, of course, no fans, usually no lights, and no water.  I didn't want to ask where their restrooms were - the last time I saw a restroom (at the school), I almost wished I hadn't.  The shops sold the usual stuff: cell phones, drinks, food, clothes, sewing materials, seed and fertilizer, bicycles, and cars and motorcycles.  There were service shops as well: tractor repair, welding, a dentist, and so on.  I know that there were shops specializing in the cultivation and sale of poppy, but I wasn't able to pick them out.

As for the people, I've seen friendlier faces at an Appalachian family feud.  Nobody smiled at us, except for a few kids.  Nobody was angry, either.  Rather, they just stared, with this cold hard stare that said "Go. Away."  There was no indication that they would actually do anything to us, not with all the Afghan police and Army soldiers around, but they certainly did not want us hanging around their bazaar.

So after an hour of this, we had all the information that we needed, and walked back to our base.  We're starting the process to get these projects planned and built.  Will it affect their opinion of us?  No, and I don't care, frankly.  The goal is to improve their facilities a little bit so they can all become a little more prosperous and less interested in blowing things up.

I went on another trip sometime later.  This one was to an important village where we needed to talk about security issues.  It was some distance away, so we went in a couple of groups of MRAPs and Strykers.  This was my first time out in the boonies, and let me tell you, these guys have some serious boonies.  Imagine driving across the Mojave Desert, only it's dirt, with fewer tumbleweeds, and with farm fields carved out of it for no obvious reason, and you've got a good idea.  I rode in an MRAP.  These things look like monster-sized Hot Wheels, but as big as they are, they have less room for a passenger than a Mazda Miata does.  Every other cubic inch is taken up by radios, ammo boxes, electronic equipment, cables, and who-knows-what.

We got to the village and settled in for some serious haggling.  We had brought along several Afghan district officials, and they were the ones who did most of the talking with the elders.  It went on for quite some time, with a lot of give and take, and some raised voices, before things began approaching some sort of decision.

Most people (ourselves included, unfortunately) think of Afghan villagers as illiterate and ignorant Taliban sympathizers.  None of that was true here.  These people were intelligent, articulate, polite, forceful, educated, well-organized, and uninterested in any government-Taliban war.  They reminded me of a group of pacifist Quakers who were familiar with the outside world and didn't want anything to do with it.  And they were far different from the people we saw in the bazaar.

Once we reached a decision point, hospitality demanded that food be served.  So out came the tablecloth, the bread, the bowls of yogurt drink, and the plates of ... well, stuff.  I had plenty of the bread (it's really good), but passed on the yogurt drink as well as whatever the cooked stuff was.  In my old age, if I can't identify it, I don't want to eat it.

Then it was time to go.  We shook hands with everybody, headed back to our vehicles, loaded up, and headed out across the Mojave again.  Our day's work was done.  Well, no, it wasn't: I had to spend several hours on the computer writing up reports on everything that happened.

But I tell you what: it beats the hell out of working on the staff!

"No Bad Wine" Day

Today, May 25th, is my own personal Memorial Day.  Only I call it "No Bad Wine Day".  There's a good reason for both statements.

Three years ago, two of my friends and co-workers at the embassy in Baghdad were killed.  Terry Barnich and Maged Hussein were part of a group visiting the massive Fallujah waste-water treatment plant.  Their armored vehicle was destroyed by an IED and they, and Navy CDR Duane Wolfe, lost their lives in an instant.

I wrote a blog post about the incident that described Terry and Maged, as well as my thoughts on losing them.  No need to reiterate that here.  Memorial Day is a day to remember those who've made the ultimate sacrifice, and to me, May 25th will always be my own personal Memorial Day.

The "No Bad Wine" bit still needs an explanation, doesn't it?  Well, blame it on Terry.  Sometime previously, Terry had had a close call from a rocket attack.  It made him stop and think about a number of important issues in life.  One of the conclusions he came to was: "Life is short.  I will never drink bad wine again."

So in honor of Terry and Maged, May 25th is "No Bad Wine" day.  I normally tip a glass of fine wine (for Terry) and a glass of clean water (for Maged) in their memory.  The wine is impossible for me this year, but the water isn't.

So pour your own in memory of two men who made one hell of a difference.

Getting Warmer

It's getting hot in southern Afghanistan now.  A front blew through here last night, dropping a bit of rain around midnight and leaving high winds blowing around a lot of dust in the morning.  I was really happy that I'm not at KAF anymore, since all the vehicles rolling around kicking up dust would have made the place miserable.  It wasn't too bad out here in the boonies.

We've had a busy week with the natives.  There have been lots of meetings to talk about new projects, progress on old projects, security issues, governance issues, and loads of other topics.  One meeting yesterday turned into a heated argument between an Afghan military officer and a local governance leader.  One believed that villages needed to prove that they're safe and secure before getting any development projects, while the other believed that the projects (and the income they provide) should be used to convince the villages to improve their security.  A chicken-and-egg question, but pretty fundamental to what we're doing.  My role?  None.  This was an Afghan debate.  I do not decide for them, they need to decide for themselves, and the way to do that is through debate.  Which they were doing.  Good for them.

One of the challenges that we're working through is that most of the military here are new.  There has been a large turnover of units and people.  Most are new in-country and some had no idea that they were coming to this area.  So they're facing a steep learning curve.  I feel like I'm on a steep learning curve, too, even though I've been watching it from KAF for months.  Instead of knowing just the big picture, I'm down in the weeds, talking to individuals, trying to learn their names, going to different places for meetings, and learning it all from the grassroots level.

It's so much more fun than sitting at KAF!

I haven't done much drawing over the past couple of weeks, though.  When I've been in meetings, I've been an active participant.  I can't just say, "Excuse me, would you shut up for a few minutes and let me draw you?  Oh, and hold that pose."  Not exactly good politics.  But I always have my pad and pencil ready to go.

Just a few pictures ...

I keep meaning to write a post about things that are going on here, but usually I can't find the time, or if I do, I'm too tired to say anything coherent.  So here are some photos from the past week.

All these guys are waiting to get their taskiras (national ID cards) at the District Center.  A couple of weeks ago, there were only a very few doing this.  Now, though, the poppy harvest is over, and all these guys have been paid for their harvest work and have the time to sit around and wait.

Just another day at the office.  We were headed for a meeting with some local officials.

Yes, as a matter of fact, this is exactly what you think it is, growing well at a government facility.

Back in Maiwand

I'm back at my home-away-from-home in Maiwand District in southern Afghanistan.  As noted in my last post, I was stuck at KAF for a few extra days due to changes in the helicopter flight schedules.  On Monday, one of my Maiwand teammates came in to KAF as well, and we were able to meet with some people at the staff and get some things squared away.  On Tuesday, we boarded a helo and came back out to our little home base.  We lugged our stuff around the corner to our hooches and there we were.  Home again.

Things have changed since I left and there are a lot of new faces around here.  It was almost as if I was checking in to the place for the first time.  There's a new company of combat troops, a new bunch of soldiers with the special training team, a new village stability guy, and a new guy (Doug) on our team.  I'd met Doug before, but this is the first time we've worked together.  He got here just a couple of days after I left on R&R.  So.  New faces, new dynamics.  That's the way it goes in a place like this.

As soon as I pulled my vest and gear off, and before I could even think about unpacking, we had to suit up again and head over to the District Center for some meetings.  We talked with a team of Army agricultural advisors and then met with the District Governor about an aid program that's coming into the district.  Then back over to my hooch/office where I wrote up lengthy reports about what we just did.

Wednesday was very interesting.  Every Wednesday there is a shura at the district center.  A shura is a meeting of local elders to talk over whatever it is that's on their minds.  Our governor was in a bit of a snit and didn't want a lot of Americans in there.  So it wound up that just two Americans attended (one of whom was your intrepid reporter), along with our interpreter, to keep tabs on events.  But as soon as the shura kicked off, the Governor changed the whole purpose, kicked a bunch of locals out, and a small group of about 11 went into the most unbelievably chaotic meeting you've ever seen.  You want an agenda?  Fuggedaboudit!  They were all over the place, yelling at each other, changing the subject, repeating accusations, it was amazing.  The general topic was the potential aid program, but a lot of interpersonal and inter-tribal issues overshadowed everything else.  After a couple of hours it ended without any visible progress.  Quite an entertaining spectacle, and I'm wondering what will happen this coming Wednesday.  Forget "Dancing with the Stars", a "Slugfest with the Afghans" beats it any day!

Yesterday a group of us visited the local school.  There are 14 schools in our district, of which only one is open.  The rest are in areas that are not secure enough for teachers to conduct classes.  So the school here in the small town of Hutal is the only one open.  The admin officer told us that there were 1,497 students enrolled.  They may be enrolled, but they certainly don't all attend, as reliable estimates by our Army Civil Affairs team put attendance at under 400 on a really good day.  The school has no electricity.  It gets its water from two wells when the pumps are working, and no water when they're not.  Many of the windows are broken out.  In summer, this is a good thing as it allows air to circulate; in winter, well, air circulates then, too, but you'd rather it didn't.  They have 18 wood stoves for heat, but we learned that they only use two of those stoves, one for the headmaster and one for the admin officer.  The kids?  Well, they get that cold air blowing in through the broken windows.

This cute little guy was hanging around the school, even though there are no classes on Fridays.  He seemed to take a liking to me and wanted his picture taken.  Then he tried to steal my camera.

This young girl was there, too, which was a bit of a surprise to me since girls don't go to school here.  She had the most amazing eyes.  Remember that famous National Geographic picture from years ago of the green-eyed Afghan woman?  This girl has the very same eyes.  She didn't try to steal my camera.

This is the bathroom for the school.  It's in a walled-off compound to the rear, and you get to it by ducking through a hole in the mud wall on the right of the picture.  The bathroom's roof fell in some time ago and won't be fixed anytime soon.  There are five stalls to serve the entire school.  And there's no plumbing, either.  Waste goes out through a hole in the floor onto the ground behind the building, where they leave it.  OSHA would not approve.

So there you have a typical southern Afghanistan school.  Before you get too shocked about how awful it is, consider that the parents are pretty happy to have a school that their kids can go to.  And conditions at home aren't any better.  The US and the Canada have done a lot to help this school get up and running, and we're still going to do some more.  I just hope the Afghans can sustain it after we pull back to Kandahar City.

Since this little trip, I've been working on reports.  We have a major one that's due in a couple of days and I got to spend a very exciting couple of hours editing the first draft of the 17-page document.  Can't you tell how thrilled I am?  I bet you can.

So I'm back in the swing of things here in Maiwand.  There's a lot of stuff to do and a lot of reports to write.  And I'm just the guy to write 'em!

Back at KAF

Vacation is over and I'm back in Afghanistan.  Right now I'm sitting at the State Department compound at Kandahar Air Field (KAF).  My scheduled flight to Maiwand didn't work out, so I'm waiting for another chance tomorrow.  Flight plans in Afghanistan are, as they say, subject to change without notice.

As is most everything else.  On the day I was to start my return trip, I got an email from Delta saying that the flight from Asheville to Atlanta was delayed.  That's the first time any airline has ever told me that in advance.  As there was a weather front moving in, I got nervous about making my connection on time, so I called them up and a very helpful lady quickly rescheduled me onto an earlier flight.  Kudos to Delta for this excellent customer service.  The revised plan, though, had me scrambling to shower, shave, pack, and go.  We got to the airport an hour prior to flight time.  I said goodbye to Janis and the two dogs.  It was difficult, but since we've done this before and this next stint won't be quite as long, it wasn't as bad as it has been.

One of the great things about a small airport like Asheville's is that everything is close by and the people are not harried to death.  From the time I walked in the door until the time I sat down at the gate was ten minutes.  That included checking in at the ticket counter, getting my boarding passes, and going through the screening process.  Not only that, but the Delta and TSA agents were friendly and chatty.  A wonderful change from the crabby cattle-herders at Dulles.

The trip to Dubai was not bad.  My early flight to Atlanta resulted in a 6-hour layover, but at least I knew I'd be there.  The Atlanta airport is a nice one, with lots of art throughout the concourses, quiet gates where I could watch a movie on my computer, and decent restaurants.  Then it was time for the 14 1/2 hour flight to Dubai.  I can't really sleep on airplanes and this time was no exception, but at least I was able to get up and move when needed.

Once in Dubai, I quickly cleared passport control and customs and got to my hotel for the night.  Tired and jet-lagged as I was, I still didn't get more than an hour's worth of sleep.  It's maddening to lie there, knowing you're worn out, and unable to drift off.  Up at 4 a.m. and out the door shortly afterward, over to the airport, and onto the flight to Kandahar.  We landed at KAF about noon.  I had a 5-minute walk to the State Department compound.  Before I could even drop my pack, I had friends and co-workers bending my ears about stuff going on at my home base in Maiwand.  Welcome home!

I thought I'd have two days to talk with people here and get back up to speed before catching a helo back to Maiwand.  As it turned out, I've got a few more days.  Flight plans come and flight plans go, and mine got up and went.  Without me, I might add.  So here I sit, waiting on the next chance.  I've got all my discussions with the folks here done, so now I'm trying to stay out of the way, which is easy enough to do.  But I'm ready to get back to my own little part of Afghanistan and get to work.

And now for a little R&R ...

I've been home on R&R for a couple of weeks now.  It's been a busy time, so busy that I haven't had time to post.  Or if I have had time, I haven't been the least bit interested.  But it's Sunday morning now.  We're off to a slow, lazy day today, so this is an opportunity to catch up.

I flew out of Maiwand on one of the Embassy's helicopters and landed back at KAF for a few days.  When you're in Afghanistan, you have to build in several days of travel to account for the vagaries of weather, helicopter availability, and general chaos.  So I had a couple of days of down time at KAF before heading out to Dubai.  It was a bit odd being back at my former home and workplace and having it NOT be my home and workplace anymore.  Still, it was nice to have a bit of time to decompress before starting the long slog back to the US.

I took a contract flight directly from KAF to Dubai.  In typical governmental fashion, we had to show up several hours early and be herded through various stages of security screening, like cattle to the slaughterhouse.  The flight itself was uneventful and, thankfully, not full, so I had a bit of room to stretch. Once in Dubai, I had many hours to kill.  Some of my compatriots just hang out at the airport, some get a hotel room, but I went exploring.  I wound up at the Mall of the Emirates, a huge, modern, and ritzy shopping mall.  When you see a Lamborghini and Ferrari parked in a roped-off valet area next to the main entrance, you know you're not in Afghanistan anymore.  Inside the mall, there was a store for every high-end brand name that you ever heard of, and many more you haven't.  They even had an indoor ski slope!  Unbelievable.

Then it was back to the airport and onto the long, 14-hour flight to Atlanta.  Fortunately, I had an aisle seat and was able to frequently get up and stretch.  I can't sleep for squat on airplanes and this flight was no exception.  In Atlanta, I cleared customs, found my gate, and pretty soon was on the last leg to Asheville.  And at 9:15, about 27 hours after leaving Kandahar, I was hugging my wife and dogs at the Asheville airport.  Home.

As always, it is wonderful to be in my own home, in my own bed, walking my dogs, being with my wife, and seeing my friends.  Janis had me take care of some maintenance chores around the house.  I spent a couple of days on yard work.  We visited with friends and neighbors and caught up on each other's lives.  We went out to eat at some really good restaurants.  In all, we just enjoyed being together.

This past week has been hectic.  Janis's son Rick, and our 5-year-old grandson Jackson, came out to spend a week with us.  I hadn't seen Jax in 3 1/2 years, which is eons in a 5-year-old's life.  He was a bit shy with us at first, but that didn't last long.  We connected pretty well.  And we had a very busy week: an Asheville Tourists ball game, going to the park, seeing a movie, throwing a frisbee, and lots of other activities.  It was a bit of a whirlwind.  But they boarded the plane yesterday afternoon and headed home.  Now it's just Janis, myself, and the dogs again.  We've got some more home chores to do, mostly clean-up from the 5-year-old tornado and normal chores (like mowing the yard).

In a few days, it'll be my turn to board the airplane.  It's almost time to head back to Afghanistan and work.  I can't really say I'm ready, not at this point, but it's something I gotta do.  And I'll be ready once the time comes.

Another Week in Maiwand

Another week down in Maiwand and I'm still having a great time.  The hours are long, longer than they were at KAF, but the pace is slower.  That's not the contradiction it seems.  For example, our network is slow.  Click on a file and it could take two minutes to load.  At KAF, I had my classified and unclassified networks right next to each other on one desk.  Here, they're on opposite sides of the FOB.  So when I need to write a report on the classified system, it usually requires information from the unclassified system, so I have to print it out and hike across the FOB.  And we spend a lot of time waiting.  When we go over to the District Center, which is most days, we have to form up in a group and some have to be armed.  So we spend a lot of time sitting at the gazebo, waiting on everybody to show up so we can go to the Center, or sitting in the Center, waiting to go back to the FOB.

Here's my Easter outfit.  Easter Sunday was a regular workday for us.  We had to go over to the District Center to check on a project.  Going over there requires a full set of personal protective equipment (PPE).  It's about 40 pounds worth of stuff.  Fortunately, the walk isn't all that far.

Our slower/longer pace, though, is letting me dig deep into Maiwand's unique situation.  I'm learning as much as I can about the people, their tribes, their issues, their villages, what's happened in the past, what's going on now, and what's planned for the short and long term future.  Maiwand is very different from the other districts that I've studied or spent time in.  It's the Wild West, literally: on the western side of Kandahar Province, out in the boonies, about an hour by car from Kandahar City, and bounded on the north and south by unfriendly natives.  The area along Highway 1, where I am, is pretty secure.  It's the commercial trading center of the district, so everybody has to come here to buy and sell.  But if you go to the south a bit, you're into Taliban country.  Go to the north a bit, and you're into narco-trafficker country.  Neither is the kind of place where you can hop out of your MRAP and walk up to somebody and strike up a conversation.

This is Highway 1, in the bazaar area of the main settlement of Hutal.  Think of the road as the I-40 of Afghanistan, and the bazaar as their free-flowing farmer's market.  This is where the Afghans come to buy their clothes, food, cell phones, and sell their vegetables, eggs, and poppy.  This area is very close to our base, so our soldiers can, and do, make foot patrols through here and talk with the shop owners.  Go about ten clicks north or south, though, and it's different.

Since our goal is to reduce tensions between the groups, and build some sort of peaceful co-existence (if not to integrate them under a common governance umbrella), we have to reach out to those in the north and south.  We do this in a variety of ways.  Some ways work better than others, some backfire, some are successful but in ways we don't expect, and some have no effect whatsoever.  Basically, we have a variety of tools given to us from higher headquarters, and we put them into action as best we can and see what happens.  And sometimes, we have to wonder just what those geniuses up at higher headquarters were thinking when they dreamed up some of these schemes ...

One of our schemes to help stabilize the area is in providing seed and fertilizer for vegetables, wheat, and other crops.  Farmers here are at the subsistence level.  They grow food crops mostly for themselves to eat, not so much as cash crops.  The big cash crop here is poppy and we'd like to get them to grow something else.  So we're trying to make alternatives more available.  Part of the plan is to provide them with heavily-subsidized seed and fertilizer to help get them started.  It also includes training on how to make best use of the fertilizer, water, and seeds.  Believe me, they need that training, as their crop yields are very low, even when considering their environment.  So on this particular day, a lot of farmers came in to the District Center, got some training on how to grow veggies, and then were given a big load of fertilizer and seeds.  The picture shows a happy farmer sitting on top of his tuk-tuk, which is loaded down with seed and fertilizer bags, heading home to his fields.  Will he really stop growing poppy?  Hell, no, he makes too much money off it.  But this will at least give him some alternative crops to think about.

So that's some insight into what I've been doing on your tax dollars for the past week or two.  I'm really having a good time here - it is SO much better than doing staff work at the headquarters at KAF!

But now it's time for a break.  Did I say break?  I just got to Maiwand!  Yep, it's true: I'm heading out on R&R, which was planned long before the shift to Maiwand came up.  I'll be flying out and heading home for a couple of weeks.  I'll get to be with my wife, play with my dogs, mow the yard, drive my own (unarmored) truck, and see my grandson.  It's going to be a great couple of weeks.  Then it'll be time to come back and really hit it hard at the job.  Things are about to start happening and I want to be a part of it!

Sketch Time

Abdul Manan

Ink on paper, 12"x9"

©2012 Skip Rohde

Settling Into the New Job

Getting settled in a new location and new job is always an adventure.  I got here almost a week ago and have been running pretty hard ever since.  Some of it has been establishing a relationship with my new teammate, Eric.  Some of it has been meeting all the military guys that I'll be working with over the next six months.  Some of it has been getting acquainted with all the various operational and administrative issues surrounding our little organization.  Some of it has been meeting with a lot of Afghans over at the District Center.  And some of it has been housekeeping: setting up my little home and office the way I want them.

My new teammate is a really good guy.  Like me, he's a retired military officer.  He looks and sounds a bit like Donald Sutherland, as he was in the movie "Mash" ... which is actually quite appropriate for our situation here.  I'm going to have fun working with him.

The military unit here has been great to work with, right off the bat.  They have a solid understanding of their role, kinda understand what our role is, and are a pretty squared-away unit, especially for being here only a short time.  So far they've been extremely supportive.  One change from the previous unit is that these guys are more interested in getting us out to where we need to go.  And they're all pretty upbeat and happy to talk with us about the mission, sports, life back home, what we're doing, whatever.  America, you're sending some fine young men and women over here.

Our little team has a a good bit of history built up by the previous members over the last two years: lots of hard work, files, and records of things that I need to have at least a passing acquaintance with.  Since I'm the new guy, I know that the Afghans going to hit me up for things that they've asked for before, only to be told "no".  You know how it is: you get a substitute teacher in school, and you try to convince him that you always go to lunch an hour early.  So I need to know about the major things that have been tried or requested before, and what the result was, and why.  In other words: lots of research.

Haji Kasan

Ballpoint pen on lined notebook paper

6"x4"

The fun part is working with the Afghans.  I've been to several shuras and other meetings already.  "Controlled chaos" might be a good description of how their meetings generally run.  Well, maybe not so much "controlled".  But you could also call them noisy and energetic.  I have to pay close attention to what's being said in these meetings, and by whom, in order to pick up the subtleties that are so easy to miss.  But sometimes, as I look at these fabulous faces, my pen just starts moving on its own accord and something like this sketch pops out.

And, finally, getting settled into my new digs takes time.  I'm very fortunate: I have my own Containerized Housing Unit, or CHU.  This is a small one, 20' long, 8' wide, and it's both my office and bedroom.  But it's all mine.  Unlike just about everybody else on this base, I don't share living and office space with anybody. My teammate has a similar CHU just a few feet away.  But my CHU is a wet one.  What that means is that I have running water, so I have my own little bathroom.  Sounds great, but it came at a price: the bathroom area looked like it hadn't been cleaned since the British were chased out of Afghanistan in 1880.  Which is quite a trick since this CHU is only about two or three years old.  Yes, the bathroom area was a real shithole, complete with a floater.  It took me four hours with scouring powder, soap, and disinfectant before I felt like I could spit my toothpaste in the sink without having to wear a HAZMAT suit.  It took two more days before I felt that I could use the whole bathroom without updating my tetanus shot.  As it is, there's no hot water, and the shower is all the way on the other side of the base, but I have my own clean sink now, and a toilet that is at least somewhat useable, so I'm a happy camper.

So I'm in my new job and perfectly happy with it.  This is what I came to Afghanistan to do!

Moving to Maiwand

It's time for a major change in jobs.  Tomorrow morning, I will leave the luxuries of Kandahar Air Field and move downrange to the District Support Team in Maiwand.  KAF has been a great assignment.  I got to work with a lot of smart people (as well as a few whose smarts seemed to have been left back in the States).  I went to some neat places: Arghandab, Dand, Spin Boldak, Uruzgan, Zhari, Kandahar City, and Daman.  I participated in the painfully thorough planning process for the spring operations that are about to kick off.  I was immersed in trying to figure out how an extremely dysfunctional government really functions, which often entails studying things that have nothing to do with government.  In short, I learned a hell of a lot.

So about a month ago, I decided to go for a new challenge and told my boss that I wanted to move further out to a DST.  These are small teams of 1-4 people who work closely with the district governors, officials, shuras, key leaders, and military forces.  They often live in spartan conditions on small bases.  Life out there is much more basic than here, but DST members deal directly with Afghans, personally, on a daily basis.  Frankly, at KAF, I've been doing staff work and working pretty exclusively with Americans.  I can do that at home.  Time to go do something different.

So I'm off to Maiwand.  This is a key district in southern Afghanistan.  It's in western Kandahar Province, on the border with Helmand Province.  The Ring Route, Highway 1, which runs in a circle around Afghanistan to connect all the key cities, bisects the district.  It's home to the Taliban.  Its major cash crop is poppy.  The official Afghan government only has a toe-hold there.

Starting tomorrow, I'll be half of a two-man team based on a small COP in the district center in the town of Hutal.  ("Town" as used here is being generous.)  In another week or two, we'll add another individual.  Our mission is to get a functioning structure in the district so that it can maintain itself after military forces and US assistance pull back.  Whether that's achievable remains to be seen, but I'm going to give it my best shot.

So I'm pretty excited about this opportunity.  This is what I came to Afghanistan to do.  Time to go do it.

Back at KAF

Private Rios

Graphite on paper, 7"x5"

My time at Arghandab is up and I'm back at Kandahar Air Field (KAF) again.  Arghandab was a lot of fun.  It was great to be away from staff duty and to work directly with the local Afghans and the military forces out in the field.  Everything we did out there affected the mission.

I got to do some more drawing as well.  Above is a sketch of Private Rios, who always seemed to be on guard duty whenever I had to go through the gate over to the District Center.  A friendly, outgoing, and very talkative guy (to use one of my mother's favorite phrases, he could talk the ears off a brass monkey), Rios was curious as to what we were doing in general, and was thrilled to have me do this sketch.

In my last post, I included a drawing of the Arghandab District Governor.  He loved it, but thought I made him look too serious.  Actually, I really lightened up his expression - you should have seen the stern face I had to work with!  The next day, I went in to say goodbye.  The DG was sitting in his office with about a dozen of his cronies.  He told them all about the picture I'd drawn the previous day.  Next thing I knew, he was pulling some paper out, finding a pen, and wanting me to draw him again, only this time with a smile!  How could I refuse?  The pressure was on!  So I sat there and drew him again, with one of his cronies who looked like the original Abraham sitting next to me and giving a running commentary.  It was a blast.  I was lucky: pens are unforgiving, but I managed to capture his likeness and spirit pretty well.  The DG was thrilled.  Mission accomplished.

I did quite a few other sketches during my time in Arghandab.  You can see them on my studio's Facebook page, www.facebook.com/Studio.of.Skip.Rohde.  I haven't put them on my website yet ... actually, I think my website is overdue for some updates, but not today.

The next morning, I packed up and a group of us trudged up the hill to the landing zone.  The Embassy helo came in about 20 minutes early (yay).  I climbed in, buckled up, and we were off.  My time in Arghandab was over.

The helo, by the way, was an old Russian-built MI-8.  Think 1950's Chevy van with rotor blades, flown by crazy Ukrainians.  There are certain ways in and out of the LZ that the military wants helos to take to minimize the impact that rotor blasts might have on both the base and adjacent religious shrine.  The Ukrainians don't pay much attention.  They skimmed right along the ridge, one or two hundred yards out, thoroughly enjoying themselves.  For those of us in the back, our windows were filled with mountains on one side and blue sky on the other.  And the mountains didn't look very far away.  Beats the hell out of any thrill ride at Six Flags!

Back at KAF, the first thing I did was take a nice long shower, shave, and throw a couple of loads of clothes into the laundry.  Life at a FOB is fun, but it's lacking in certain amenities.  Things like a fairly spacious and clean shower stall, for example.  Toilets that flush, instead of port-johns.  The ability to pull your clothes out of the dryer when they're done, rather than pick them up after they've spent several hours wadded up in your laundry bag and now look like you slept in them for a week.  Today, I treated myself to a cappuccino at Green Beans, which is the Starbucks for war zones.  Life's good ... at least as far as creature comforts are concerned.

I was talking with a friend at breakfast this morning and he was lamenting the fact that, here at KAF, we spend all day reading emails, writing reports, and preparing PowerPoint presentations, all to affect decisions on things we'll never see.  Very true.  Which is why I'm heading out to the field again very soon.  I'm transferring to one of our District Support Teams (DSTs) and will be there for the rest of my tour.  I'm really excited about it - I'll be able to dig down into the dynamics of one particular district, get to know the District Governor and key leaders, team up with the military unit, and in general get my hands dirty doing operational stuff.  And I'll be able to do more interesting drawings.  It's a district that I'm already fairly familiar with, so I won't be walking into it blind.  THIS is what I came to Afghanistan for!  So when am I leaving?  Not quite sure, but probably within the week.  You'll read about it right here.

Diplomacy Through Art

A few days ago, I was in a meeting with the District Governor of Arghandab, Haji Shah Mohammad.  I did a quick sketch of him while he was talking with somebody else, and when we left, I gave it to him.  He thought it was pretty cool and wanted me to do another one, a bit more formal.  So this morning, I met with him in his office, along with a number of his cronies, and did this drawing.

Haji Shah Mohammad

Graphite on paper, 12"x9"

The District Governor of Arghandab and me

I sat on the visitor's couch across from him while he sat in his favorite chair.  The lighting was a bit odd:since the power was out in the building (a common situation) we relied on ambient light from the windows, which was soft and unusually colored due to today's thick dust.  I had an interpreter, Ahmad, with me, and he talked with the DG and the cronies while I drew.  I can't talk and draw at the same time, so I kept quiet and sketched away.  After about 20 minutes, I thought the drawing turned out pretty well, and the DG thought so, too, especially when I gave it to him.  So now he has two original Rohde drawings in his private art collection.  I had a great time doing it and hope that I can do more before the end of my tour.

Keeping Busy

Southern Afghanistan is warming up.  This morning we’re well into the 70’s (fahrenheit) with clear skies and only a little dust.  Nice day.  The weather is changing rapidly: a week ago, I needed a jacket; today I’m in a polo shirt.  Good stuff!

I mentioned in my last post that we were moving our office out of the District Center and into a tent on the US-controlled side of the wall.  We did most of it over a week ago.  The only thing remaining was the move of one of our computer networks, which included a communications system.  This is a complex move that required some special technicians.  They arrived a few days ago and we started to roll.  Immediately the military guys here threw us a curveball.  Our satellite dish was on top of the District Center, but they wanted it moved into our compound.  Where?  They didn’t say and didn’t care, as long as it was off the Center and in our compound.  Which is packed about as tightly as a compound can be, meaning there’s no room at the inn.  But  with the help of a sharp Sergeant First Class, we found a place on top of a guard tower, found a crane, and found some willing soldiers to carry a rack of heavy electronic equipment down two flights of stairs and across the compound into the tent.  Never a complaint from any of them, even when a sandbag broke and dumped a bunch of dirt onto the head of one poor guy.  “It’s all good, sir!”  Great bunch of young men.  Then the techs worked their magic and our system was up and running about seven hours after we began. 

Downtown Kandahar City

Yesterday was another very interesting day.  I was tagged to go to a large briefing at Mandagak Palace in Kandahar City.  This is the provincial governor’s center, which includes a conference area (where we were), offices, residential and guest houses, and more.  We left in the morning in a train of MRAP’s, winding along the Arghandab valley and then up and over a pass.  The outer edges of Kandahar City came up pretty quickly as we came down the mountain.  Traffic wasn’t too bad, mostly pedestrians, bicyclists, motorcyclists, and donkey carts, almost none of which observed any sort of rules of the road.  When we finally got to the palace gate, we discovered that the police had roped off every entrance.  Parking MRAPs in an Afghan bazaar is not an option, and neither is backing up, so eventually the ropes came down and in we went.

This was my first road trip into the city, so my pucker factor was a bit on the high side, but for the soldiers manning the vehicle, it was just another routine day in the office.  Their chatter, though, was not the sort of thing you’d normally hear from a bunch of guys in the US.  The driver, for instance, casually told of being under investigation because the barrel of his machine gun bent.  The reason: he’d put several thousand rounds through it in a very short period of time, to the point where it overheated and warped.  He was laughing at the major who had to do the investigation, ignoring the bit about why he had to fire several thousand rounds so quickly in the first place.  

The gathering at the palace was an opportunity for our Afghan partners to brief provincial district officials on their plans for the next several months.  Americans such as my group were there to provide moral support.  And, given the Afghan inclinations, we were there to ensure there was an audience, and to ensure that the briefers showed up as well.  I think it’s safe to say that giving a detailed briefing about upcoming operations is not a normal Afghan way of doing business.

I had attended one other such event in Spin Boldak several months ago.  Back then, I said that the real value in such an exercise is getting the Afghans to think about their operations, plan them out, and be able to tell others about what they’re going to do.  It’s still very true.  And they are learning.  Our district Chief of Police wouldn’t have said five words to any group over three people a year ago; yesterday, he got up in front of a large group of very senior Afghan and American people and spoke confidently and at length.  I understand that all the briefers did better this time than last.  That’s a good sign.  As I’ve said, the leaders here may often be un(der) educated, but they’re smart, and can and do learn.  Whether they continue to do this after we pull back is another question.

So after it was over, we climbed back into our MRAPs and headed back.  It was, fortunately, another uneventful trip.  

Today (Friday) is their weekend, which also meant a fairly quiet day for us.  A good time to catch up on paperwork, fix a few equipment issues that have popped up, and do some research that’s been on the back burner.  One of my projects has been to find out whether the district shura members come from all over the district, or whether they come from just a few select areas.  The question, as you might imagine, has some relevance as to how we work with the local officials.  I thought it would be a quick project, maybe an hour.  Nope - I’ve been working on it for a week now and am still not done!  As I’ve discovered, villages can have more than one name - or, rather, multiple names that mean the same thing.  Because there’s no one way to translate Afghan words into the Western alphabet, each one of those names can be spelled about six different ways.  So the villages of Pai Shuyen and Shoheen Sofla are, in fact, the same one.  It’s the same thing with people’s names.  There are, for instance, five gents named Haji Mohammad in the district shura ... or maybe only four, as we’re not quite certain that one of them might be filling two roles.  So after a week of work, I think that the district shura assignments are spread evenly around the district.  But I wouldn’t swear to it.

So I’m still having a good time out here in the district.  Working here is living at a very basic level, but it’s at this level where change can be (and needs to be) done.

Tension in Arghandab

Last week I deployed to the District Support Team in Arghandab district.  The team lead was going on leave and needed somebody to cover for him, so I raised my hand.  Any chance to get away from staff work and go to the pointy end of the stick is a chance to be jumped at.  

So last Monday, I flew from KAF to Arghandab on a rattletrap CH-46 helicopter.  The flight was uneventful (good) and within ten minutes of landing, I had my stuff stashed away in my CHU and was in the office, ready to get started.  Mike started bringing me up to speed on the main issues facing the DST.  I was familiar with some, but certainly not all - in my experience, no headquarters is ever fully aware of what the guys in the field are facing.  So we spent Monday and Tuesday talking about DST stuff, going to meetings with the military guys, talking with random Afghans, writing reports, visiting with the District Governor, going to more meetings with the military guys, and writing more reports.  Damn, I thought I left the meetings and reports back at KAF!  Wrong again, moosebreath.

Mike flew out on Wednesday morning, heading off to the States to visit his daughter, and Philip and I were left to run the place on our own.  So what do we do?  Meet with the military guys, write reports, meet with random Afghans.  But we also had another mission: move the DST.  The team’s office has been in the District Center for a few years now.  While this has been great for being able to meet with the Governor, district officials, and of course the random Afghans, it had an unwanted second-order effect: Afghans came to rely too much on the US forces and DST to get things done.  

You may have heard that one of Karzai’s gripes is that the US and ISAF are a “shadow government” that is outside Afghan control.  It’s true.  We’re here, we’re organized, and for several years, we were the way things got done.  The local Afghan government, if it existed at all, was seen as slow, unable to get things done, and (at worst) corrupt and incompetent.  So rather than work through their own government, Afghans learned to turn to the Americans first.  You need a road repaired?  Might take the Afghan government a year or two to get around to it, if at all - go to the Americans.  You want a school built?  The Afghan government has no money for schools - go to the Americans.  You get the drift.

Recently, though, we’ve begun pulling back.  The Afghan government has to become functional and answer the needs of its own people.  So when Afghans come and ask us for this project or those supplies, we direct them to the responsible Afghan officials.  To help enforce that, we’re pulling our few remaining offices out of the District Center and relocating to the adjacent US-controlled compound.  We’ll still be working with the local Afghan officials on a daily basis, but we’ll be trying to get the people and the officials to use their own chain of command and not rely on us.

So on Wednesday evening, after Mike left, Philip and I, along with a group of soldiers, started loading up the office’s furniture, computers, files, and other stuff (lots and lots of “stuff”) and lugging it over to our new digs.  We’re in a tent now, with a wooden floor that has a permanent slope to it.  Some equipment can’t move yet, not until a special team comes in to take it apart, move it, and set it up in the new space.  So we still need to go to the old office occasionally, for a few more days.  I tell you, Mike owes me: that was some back-breaking manual labor we did!  Once we got all the stuff over there, it took a couple of days to get things organized and into operating condition, but we’re there, more or less.

So things were looking pretty good.  Until yesterday morning, when we heard about the incident in Panjwai.  A soldier had walked out of his base and shot an unknown number of Afghans.  Some were killed, some wounded.  Panjwai is adjacent to Arghandab and this particular base is maybe 20 miles from here.  Coming on the heels of the Koran burning, this was not good.  While we were aware of it yesterday, and the Afghan leaders were aware of it, the regular people at the Center were not.  But we decided to tighten up on security, so Philip and I are staying away from the Center as much as possible during the day and only using the old office at night.

The Afghan leaders that we’ve talked to have all been pretty understanding.  They’re very upset with the soldier, of course, but they’re not upset with Americans in general.  They recognize that this is a rogue act by one guy with some serious issues.  They want to see an immediate investigation, they want to see justice, and they want things to calm down.  All of which we want, too.  

The district officials, police, and army have an additional responsibility that we do not.  They have to calm their people down and maintain order.  During the Koran troubles, they did an excellent job overall.  There wasn’t much trouble down here in the south, and what little there was, was fairly easily contained.  Since this event occurred right here in Kandahar Province, just a short distance away, things might be different.  

The Afghan media, though, is following the American tradition: sensationalize, exaggerate, and show blood and gore.  The reports are pretty graphic and pretty horrible.  The Taliban isn’t going to have to do much to make them worse than they already are.  What’s true and what’s not remains to be seen in the investigation, but the press isn’t waiting for an investigation.  

So things are a bit tense here.  We’ve tightened security on our end and are waiting to see what the fallout is.  Life on the pointy end of the stick just got more interesting.

New Sketches

I'm in Arghandab, a district in Kandahar Province, for a couple of weeks.  One of the Department of State team members is on leave and I'm filling in for him.  This has already proven to be an interesting and challenging assignment.  Power outages, dealing with the Afghan work ethic, meeting lots of soldiers and trying to remember their names and jobs so I can coordinate with the right guy, and moving the office from the District Center (source of the power outages) to a nearby Army tent (which is on a different power system and uses different voltage) has been a challenge.

Despite that, I have my sketchbook and have been able to do some quick drawings here and there.  Yesterday, for example, I attended the district shura, which is a public meeting where the District Governor, Chief of Police, officials, and village elders get together to discuss, well, everything.  It's a bit of a stage show, a bit chaotic, unscripted, surprising, and a great source of drawing material.

Shura Members

Pencil on paper, 5"x7"

 Abdul Manan

Pencil on paper, 7"x5"

 Battle Damage Claimant

Pencil on paper, 7"x5"

Shura Member

Pencil on paper, 7"x5"

On the Road Again

I finally managed to break free from KAF a few days ago.  Several of us flew up to FOB Pasab in Zhari District on Thursday to meet with a team of civilians there.  They were Department of State, USAID, and US Department of Agriculture experts who are directly involved with the local Afghan government. Two of us stayed for a couple of nights for some more in-depth and focused discussions.  It turned out to be a very productive visit.  I'd never been there before, and I'm the kind of guy who'll go almost anywhere once, so it was fun to see a new place.  

FOB Pasab is a pretty large military base.  Most of it is ISAF, but not all: there is a section that belongs to Afghan security forces, and a section that includes the District Center, which is the seat of government.  Like all our bases, it's made up of tents, CHUs, "Plywood Palaces", stacks of CONEX boxes (big shipping containers), diesel-powered generators, miles and miles of T-walls, and gravel.  

Most significantly, it has one of the best DFACs in all Kandahar Province.  After eating at the "Sux" DFAC for so long, it was great to find a really well-run place.  The food tasted great, there was a good variety, and they had all the extra geedunk (Navy terminology for snack food) that DFACs are supposed to have but ours never do.  For example, they had a wide variety of drinks, including Diet Coke, Dr. Pepper, Pepsi, Coke Zero, regular Coke, Orange Crush, Snapple, boxed juices (pineapple, orange, apple, cranberry, and mixtures), V8, Gatorade, non-alcoholic beer, and much much more.  The Sux might have regular Coke, orange crush, mystery drink (maybe it's Tang, but I wouldn't bet on it), and something they claim is apple juice.  FOB Pasab's DFAC even had (gasp) REAL ICE CREAM!  Yes!  Cookies 'n' Cream, Praline, Chocolate, and Vanilla ... the kind you scoop out of a big ol' tub, not the kind that squirts out of a machine like runny poop.  Last night was Friday, which means Surf 'n' Turf, and I had a big stack of crab legs for the first time since, well, Baghdad.  Followed by real pecan pie.  Oh my gosh, it was almost like being in the real world again.  Tomorrow I gotta hit the gym to start working it off.

But we weren't there just to hit the DFAC, we were there to work.  (No, really, we were.  There to work, I mean.)  We spent most of the day in some pretty deep discussions about the team, the mission, operations, and how to maximize our effectiveness.  I got to visit the district center and get a feel for the place.  Last night, the incoming Colonel (he'll be in charge of all the military operations in the area in a week) came to the tent and talked with us for two and a half hours.  Quite impressive.  Very sharp guy with a keen understanding of the social, political, and military environments.  He'll be a great one to work with.

Today we came back, riding home in an ancient CH-46 helo.  The Navy and Marines used to operate these things way back when I was a junior officer at sea, so it was cool to get to ride in one again.  Yes, that is Your Faithful Correspondent in the cool Ray-Bans at the top of this post.

So now it's back to the KAF Grind.  Back to the Sux ... in fact, I needed some Alka-Seltzer after dinner tonight, and not because I ate too much.  (A word of explanation: the "Sux" refers to the DFAC right around the corner.  It's official name is the Luxembourg DFAC ... aka the "Lux" ... aka, well, you know).  There's going to be an excruciating 2-hour meeting tomorrow morning.  Oh, boy, can't wait.  (I'm lying.)

New Sketches

My last couple of posts have talked about some pretty heavy issues.  Time to lighten it up a bit.  Here are three new sketches.

District Official

Ink on paper, 7"x5" 

This guy is an official in one of the districts in this area.  He's a pretty sharp guy and I hope that comes across in this sketch.

 Poppy Farmer

Ink on paper, 7"x5"

A slightly different story with this one.  He was growing poppy in one of the districts down here.  That is, until the district chief of police and a horde of police and other officials hit the area.  Now his poppy field is destroyed and he's under arrest.  Not a good day.

Angry Poppy Farmer

Ink on paper, 7"x5"

This guy is another poppy farmer.  Where the other one seemed resigned to his fate, this one wasn't.  He's looking for somebody to kill.  Well, if somebody just destroyed the crop that was going to fund you for the next year, you'd be mad, too.

It felt good to do some drawing again.  I may have some more opportunities in the next couple of weeks, and I'm really looking forward to it!

Security Situation

A week into the Koran-burning incident, things here are still a little tense.  The number of demonstrations around the country has dropped fairly steadily, and there are fewer people participating in fewer demonstrations.  Karzai has stepped up to encourage people to show restraint, stop the violence, and give the investigation some time to proceed.  The provincial and district governors have echoed this line.  They've also encouraged (maybe the right word is "leaned on") the mullahs to calm people down.  


Fortunately for us down here in the south, there have been almost no violent incidents.  Yeah, we got a rocket attack a few days ago, but that's nothing to get too excited about.  More of an annoyance than anything else.  The bottom line is that things are quieting down, slowly and gradually.


One thing that does have people concerned is the shooting of the two American officers inside the Ministry of the Interior.  This is serious.  The Ministry of the Interior is not at all like our Interior Department - it's really the police forces and other law-enforcement groups.  The Americans were killed in an area that is considered very secure.  People have to have special clearances to be there.  And one of those people shot our officers in cold blood.  And escaped.  The Afghan investigation is ongoing and word is that they're on the trail of the guy.


Meanwhile, we've pulled all our "embeds" out of all the ministries.  These are the people that have been helping the Afghans build their government capabilities to run the country.  Now they're back on ISAF-controlled bases, or at their embassies, until such time as it's determined that the Afghans can provide better protection.  Believe me, the ministries will be feeling this loss before much longer.  


But while this assassin, and a few others around the country in recent months, have received a lot of attention, the performance of the Afghan security forces in general has been pretty impressive.  In literally thousands of demonstrations, it has been the Afghan security forces who have faced them.  They're the ones standing in front of the hordes of angry Muslims and defending the infidel Americans (and British, German, Dutch, Romanian, Albanian, Canadian, Norwegian, French, Slovak, and more) from attack.  And defending the Parliament building, airports, and other public facilities.  It has been a very dangerous task and many of them have been killed.  A year or two ago, this wouldn't have happened.  So my hat is off to the vast majority of Afghan security forces.


That said, there's still the question of trust.  The shooter in the Ministry of Interior is in the news now, but he has not been the only one.  Over the past two years, as the Afghan security forces have been built up, there have been increasing numbers of what we call "green on blue" incidents, in which Afghan security forces fire on ISAF forces.  Those of us out here have been talking about it for quite a while.  The Afghan security forces are, indeed, getting bigger and better, but at the same time, there are more uniformed members willing to pull a gun on one of us.  Not good.  


One final note.  The news sites have reported that Gingrich and Santorum have both denounced Obama's apology to Karzai over the Koran-burning incident.  I have to say that these comments are just more examples of why those two are not qualified for such an important job.  If official representatives of the United States (which includes all soldiers and US government workers over here) do something that profoundly insults the people of the country they're in, we owe them an apology.  Period.  I mean, if you go over to somebody's house and do something stupid that insults them or causes damage, you apologize, right?  You do if you're raised in a civilized society.  An immediate and forceful apology was necessary to even begin to calm the storm that this incident raised.  Obama did it.  George W. Bush did it, too, when a US sniper shot a Koran in Iraq several years ago.  But Gingrich and Santorum are now on record as saying they wouldn't.  Meaning they have no problems with needlessly increasing the danger that the people over here (including me) are facing.  So fuck you very much, Newt and Rick.


While on this topic, I have to say that I actually agree with something Sarah Palin said.  (Never thought I'd say that, but it's true).  She tweeted that Karzai owes us an apology for the shooting of the two officers in the Ministry of Interior.  She's absolutely right.  I'm waiting.

Koran-Burning Incident

By now, you've heard on the news about the Koran-burning incident at Bagram.  It's been a hot topic of conversation around here, and we're all on a heightened state of alert.  The story, from what we've seen in the news, is that somebody in Bagram tried to burn a bunch of Korans.  Some Afghans saw what was happening, pulled them out, and told a bunch of their friends.  All hell broke loose,

Reality is a bit more complex than that.  These particular Korans came from the detention facility.  The prisoners used them to write messages to each other.  When this was discovered, all the Korans were confiscated and stored somewhere.  There they sat until somebody decided they had to go.  What we figure is that some major told some lieutenant, who told some sergeant, who told some private, to move all the books.  Somewhere along the line, somebody who knew what these Korans were, and how they were supposed to be handled, told somebody who didn't know, to "get rid of this stuff".  Here in Afghanistan, that usually means to burn it.  So, probably, some 18-year-old private just thought he was doing what he was told.

The rest you know.  As of last evening, about four were dead in rioting and lots of people injured.  US and ISAF units all over Afghanistan are pretty much on lockdown, including here in the south.  But down here, things have been much quieter, probably because news travels slowly.  The officials we've spoken to understand that accidents happen, but have all cautioned that this is taken very seriously by the general Afghan public.  We've sure seen that up north and hope it won't play out the same way down here.

Some people have been very dismissive of the the Afghan reaction.  After all, they're just a bunch of books, right?  No.  To Muslims, it's the Word.  It's not that they're symbols (which they are as well), but they are literally the word of God.  And here is an infidel destroying the word of God.  Blasphemous.  We in the west are not immune to this sort of thing.  Years ago, an artwork titled "Piss Christ" was shown in New York.  It was a photo of a Catholic crucifix submerged in a urine-filled toilet.  The country was scandalized, Rudy Giuliani tried to close it down, and the clamor lasted for months.  Nobody died, however; a key difference between there and here.  But the underlying sentiment was the same: somebody had deeply affronted somebody else's religion.  Here it was accidental; in New York, deliberate.

So it will be interesting to see what happens over the next week.  Will southern Afghanistan erupt the same way that the north did?  We don't know.  But we're ready.