Here are a few sketches from the past few days ...
Before the Patrol
Graphite on paper, 9"x12"
Abdul M.
Graphite on paper, 7"x5"
Rahmatullah
Graphite on paper, 7"x5"
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Friday, August 24, 2012
Eid Makes for a Quiet Week
The Muslim world finished up Ramadan just as I returned from leave. The Eid celebration that followed it was supposed to last three days. Yeah. Just like we would have in the US, Afghans managed to stretch it out over a whole week. Over at the District Center, there were a couple of parties with bands and food and lots of chai and good times. All offices were closed, meetings cancelled, and lots of people went to wherever "home" was. As a result, I was able to play catchup without falling further behind. A pretty quiet week.
I hit the gym the first morning back. I weighed in, expecting to have gained a few pounds during R&R, but found I hadn't gained an ounce. Cool! But I've been exercising every day anyway, taking it easy at first and then upping the strain. Part of the reason is to try to work off a few more pounds before this tour is over. Another part is that I've still been waking up at ridiculous hours in the morning, so what else is there to do? I was in the gym this morning and one soldier was putting all the rest of us to shame. He was on the leg press and kept adding more and more weights until, finally, he was pushing 880 pounds. I couldn't believe it. There I was, sweating away with my measly squats (no extra weights), and he's pushing five of me around.
This week, I learned that there's a Canadian combat artist in southern Afghanistan. Richard Johnson is on his fourth trip in-country. His articles and drawings are being published in the National Post newspaper based in Ontario. He was at KAF at the same time I was, although I didn't know it. His drawings and writeup are really good and I highly recommend taking a look.
Two bits of news today really sucked. One was that former Ambassador Ryan Crocker was arrested on a DUI hit-and-run last week. Crocker has done an amazing job for the US as Ambassador to Pakistan, then Iraq, and then Afghanistan. Any one of those would have required a superhuman effort from a normal guy, and the fact that he did all three of them, and so well, is unbelievably impressive. He left Afghanistan early due to some unspecified, but serious, health issues. This DUI is not excusable, but it pales in significance to what he has done for this country.
The other bit of bad news is the retired SEAL who's publishing a memoir of the Bin Laden raid. That's just plain wrong. All of us on government service sign an agreement that we will submit any manuscripts that might contain classified information for a security review. That's a normal requirement that's been around for many decades. I signed the agreement. This guy, though, didn't live up to his obligation. Especially for somebody involved in the actions of SEAL Team 6 in general and the Bin Laden raid in particular, there is a lot of highly classified information involved and, no matter how careful he is, he's probably going to spill some of it. If he does, I think he should be brought back on active duty and court-martialled. My message to him and everybody else on active duty (military and civilian): follow your obligations and don't put your teammates and other soldiers in danger.
To cap it off, this morning Fox News, that bastion of right-wing military adventurism, outed the guy, publishing his name for all the world to know. Now why in the hell did they do that? They just endangered him, his family, his friends, and his teammates, all to sell newspapers or TV spots. Now, granted, the ex-SEAL team guy endangered himself by writing the book in the first place, but he used a pseudonym for himself and his buddies. Now his cover is blown and it won't take much investigative work to find the real identities of some of the rest. Way to go, Fox News: where money comes before country.
Had the name been published by MSNBC or the New York Times, I bet there would have been a huge outcry from the right. So far, I haven't heard anything. I'm waiting.
I hit the gym the first morning back. I weighed in, expecting to have gained a few pounds during R&R, but found I hadn't gained an ounce. Cool! But I've been exercising every day anyway, taking it easy at first and then upping the strain. Part of the reason is to try to work off a few more pounds before this tour is over. Another part is that I've still been waking up at ridiculous hours in the morning, so what else is there to do? I was in the gym this morning and one soldier was putting all the rest of us to shame. He was on the leg press and kept adding more and more weights until, finally, he was pushing 880 pounds. I couldn't believe it. There I was, sweating away with my measly squats (no extra weights), and he's pushing five of me around.
This week, I learned that there's a Canadian combat artist in southern Afghanistan. Richard Johnson is on his fourth trip in-country. His articles and drawings are being published in the National Post newspaper based in Ontario. He was at KAF at the same time I was, although I didn't know it. His drawings and writeup are really good and I highly recommend taking a look.
Two bits of news today really sucked. One was that former Ambassador Ryan Crocker was arrested on a DUI hit-and-run last week. Crocker has done an amazing job for the US as Ambassador to Pakistan, then Iraq, and then Afghanistan. Any one of those would have required a superhuman effort from a normal guy, and the fact that he did all three of them, and so well, is unbelievably impressive. He left Afghanistan early due to some unspecified, but serious, health issues. This DUI is not excusable, but it pales in significance to what he has done for this country.
The other bit of bad news is the retired SEAL who's publishing a memoir of the Bin Laden raid. That's just plain wrong. All of us on government service sign an agreement that we will submit any manuscripts that might contain classified information for a security review. That's a normal requirement that's been around for many decades. I signed the agreement. This guy, though, didn't live up to his obligation. Especially for somebody involved in the actions of SEAL Team 6 in general and the Bin Laden raid in particular, there is a lot of highly classified information involved and, no matter how careful he is, he's probably going to spill some of it. If he does, I think he should be brought back on active duty and court-martialled. My message to him and everybody else on active duty (military and civilian): follow your obligations and don't put your teammates and other soldiers in danger.
To cap it off, this morning Fox News, that bastion of right-wing military adventurism, outed the guy, publishing his name for all the world to know. Now why in the hell did they do that? They just endangered him, his family, his friends, and his teammates, all to sell newspapers or TV spots. Now, granted, the ex-SEAL team guy endangered himself by writing the book in the first place, but he used a pseudonym for himself and his buddies. Now his cover is blown and it won't take much investigative work to find the real identities of some of the rest. Way to go, Fox News: where money comes before country.
Had the name been published by MSNBC or the New York Times, I bet there would have been a huge outcry from the right. So far, I haven't heard anything. I'm waiting.
Sunday, August 19, 2012
Back In Maiwand Again
Hutal, Maiwand District, Kandahar Province, Afghanistan
I arrived back in Maiwand this morning. It was a long trip. I left Asheville on Monday evening. The flight was delayed a bit by weather, but I still got to Atlanta in plenty of time to catch the flight to Dubai. Some of my friends have recently had some bad experiences with United (lost bags, cancelled flights, and don't-give-a-hoot crews and representatives) but Delta has been pretty good for me. Our flight was packed with lots of US civilians obviously heading to Afghanistan. How did I know? They had this certain look to them, of men who had done hard things in difficult situations for long periods of time; calm, competent, no-bullshit carriage. That, and the military-issue backpacks.
The 14-hour flight was as long as it sounds, but surprisingly, I was able to get some sleep. Waking up at the 6-hour mark and realizing that you still have 8 hours to go is not much fun. Dubai passport control is efficient and I was soon at my hotel. Had a long soak in the tub, followed by a great dinner on their terrace (burger and draft beer), and in the rack for the night. My body clock was so confused.
The next day, it was on to Kabul. The seats on this plane were even smaller than Delta's and every single one was taken. In other words, sardine city. After Dubai's modern airport, Kabul's was really ramshackle. But the passport control was quick and efficient, and I didn't have any checked bags, so I was through in no time. After getting to the Embassy, I got settled in my room and started taking care of business. Good thing I did, too, since they'd lost my flight request for the next day to Kandahar. I ran into several old friends while wandering around the compounds, which was cool. The Embassy is a massive construction project right now. Eight hundred million of your tax dollars are building a huge new compound, and as a result, getting from one office to another is a challenge. Hell, even finding the office is a challenge. Is all this necessary? A lot of us think not. It is too much like the monstrous embassy in Baghdad that is now way under-utilized.
The next day, I flew down to Kandahar and checked in with the offices that we work with on a daily basis. I got caught up on news and gossip and checked my three email accounts. When you have 1400 emails in the queue, the "delete" button is your friend! Sleeping at night was still difficult: I'd hit the rack around 9:30, wake up later feeling like I'd been down forever, look at the clock, and it would be 12:45 in the morning. Ugh! I had some over-the-counter sleep aids that really helped although they left me a bit groggy first thing in the morning.
Today was the last leg. I was the sole passenger in an ancient Huey helicopter heading from KAF to Maiwand. I rode sitting sideways, looking out the great gaping hole where a door would be if a door had been installed. It was better than any amusement park ride. We thup-thup-thupped our way across the desert and swooped down on Hutal (top picture). A cloud of dust, a final bump, and I was back at my little base. It's so small that I was almost back to my hooch before the bird lifted off.
I've spent the rest of today getting caught up on the happenings here. There have been some personnel changes, some politicking over at the District Center, and other things that I needed to know about. Things haven't really changed, just more of the same. It's back to the grind.
Oh, and lunch today? MRE's. Yes! Looks like I'm going to be losing all those pounds that I gained while on leave!
Monday, August 13, 2012
Some Assembly Required
That could be the tag line for much of this R&R at home. A variety of small-bore projects that always seemed to require a bit more work than they initially appeared. There was some catch-up paperwork that took a week to get done. The bank of juniper plants behind the house had about a gazillion weeds in it, most of which didn't show up until I was face-down in the bank. Mowing the lawn led to pulling more weeds and trimming some trees.
Here's an example. Before I came home, I ordered a new stereo unit for the truck that added the capability to play my iPod, as well as bluetooth for a hands-free capability with the phone. Putting the new unit in wasn't actually that hard - it took me about twice as long as the directions estimated just because I double-checked everything, but it went right in. Cool. But then I realized that my speakers had all the frequency response of a mailbox. Another order to Crutchfield and a few days later a new set of speakers showed up. It had two to replace the ones in the front doors and two to replace the ones in the dash. Should be an easy plug-in, right? No. The door speakers weren't a straight replacement. The wires had one color-code coming off the stereo unit and a completely different one at the speakers. There were two additional pieces of electronics that needed locations where they were accessible for adjustments but wouldn't get kicked or mashed or whatever. When I went to drill the holes for the screws, the battery for the drill was dead. When I recharged the battery, I found out it was really dead. The wires included to hook up the door speakers were about 12" too short, requiring a trip to Radio Shack for a new roll. When I got home, I found I'd bought a size way too small, so it was back to Radio Shack again. The new speakers for the dash were completely different from the existing ones, so I had to figure out a way to install them without doing permanent damage to the truck. But eventually, after many hours of work and cussing, it all came together. The new speakers sound great, the new unit will play my iPod, and the bluetooth works well.
Not everything about this trip was work. We went to an Asheville Tourists minor-league baseball game with our neighbors, then out to dinner at a great Mexican restaurant. Friday night, we went downtown to check out a new restaurant and ran into some friends of ours who were also going to the restaurant. That's one of the things I love about a small city like Asheville: you tend to run into friends everywhere you go. We watched a lot of the Olympics, which was cool, especially since I hadn't been able to watch any TV for the past three months in Maiwand. One thing I did not miss: political ads. I kept the remote handy and immediately changed channels every time a political ad came on.
I also started talking with people about employment and related opportunities after Afghanistan. There are a few interesting possibilities out there that would make use of my background and skills. In a perfect world, I'd be able to use those skills while working (or at least being based) here at home, where I could set up an art studio again and resume making artworks that mean something to me. I'm available after early October - anybody got any ideas?
But vacation is now over. I'm sitting in the Asheville airport, waiting on the flight to take me to Atlanta and then to Dubai. This will be my final stint in Afghanistan. I'll get back to Maiwand, see what's happened while I was home drinking beer, pick up where I left off on my projects, and very soon start wrapping them up. I'll out-process from the State Department and come home in early October. No more deployments for this boy. Trips, yes; deployments, no. Time for me to spend time with my wife, my dogs, and my friends.
Here's an example. Before I came home, I ordered a new stereo unit for the truck that added the capability to play my iPod, as well as bluetooth for a hands-free capability with the phone. Putting the new unit in wasn't actually that hard - it took me about twice as long as the directions estimated just because I double-checked everything, but it went right in. Cool. But then I realized that my speakers had all the frequency response of a mailbox. Another order to Crutchfield and a few days later a new set of speakers showed up. It had two to replace the ones in the front doors and two to replace the ones in the dash. Should be an easy plug-in, right? No. The door speakers weren't a straight replacement. The wires had one color-code coming off the stereo unit and a completely different one at the speakers. There were two additional pieces of electronics that needed locations where they were accessible for adjustments but wouldn't get kicked or mashed or whatever. When I went to drill the holes for the screws, the battery for the drill was dead. When I recharged the battery, I found out it was really dead. The wires included to hook up the door speakers were about 12" too short, requiring a trip to Radio Shack for a new roll. When I got home, I found I'd bought a size way too small, so it was back to Radio Shack again. The new speakers for the dash were completely different from the existing ones, so I had to figure out a way to install them without doing permanent damage to the truck. But eventually, after many hours of work and cussing, it all came together. The new speakers sound great, the new unit will play my iPod, and the bluetooth works well.
Not everything about this trip was work. We went to an Asheville Tourists minor-league baseball game with our neighbors, then out to dinner at a great Mexican restaurant. Friday night, we went downtown to check out a new restaurant and ran into some friends of ours who were also going to the restaurant. That's one of the things I love about a small city like Asheville: you tend to run into friends everywhere you go. We watched a lot of the Olympics, which was cool, especially since I hadn't been able to watch any TV for the past three months in Maiwand. One thing I did not miss: political ads. I kept the remote handy and immediately changed channels every time a political ad came on.
I also started talking with people about employment and related opportunities after Afghanistan. There are a few interesting possibilities out there that would make use of my background and skills. In a perfect world, I'd be able to use those skills while working (or at least being based) here at home, where I could set up an art studio again and resume making artworks that mean something to me. I'm available after early October - anybody got any ideas?
But vacation is now over. I'm sitting in the Asheville airport, waiting on the flight to take me to Atlanta and then to Dubai. This will be my final stint in Afghanistan. I'll get back to Maiwand, see what's happened while I was home drinking beer, pick up where I left off on my projects, and very soon start wrapping them up. I'll out-process from the State Department and come home in early October. No more deployments for this boy. Trips, yes; deployments, no. Time for me to spend time with my wife, my dogs, and my friends.
Monday, July 30, 2012
Back Home Again
Traveling across eight and a half timezones really messes with your body. Particularly when you do it in one swell foop, it's like throwing a monkey wrench into your inner body clock. So at 2:30 a.m., I was lying in bed, wondering whether to lie there and pretend to sleep, or just go ahead and get up and find something productive to do. I compromised: I lay there a half hour listening to my dog snore, then got up and made a cuppa joe to get my day started.
The trip back was pretty uneventful. I flew from Kandahar to Dubai, then took a cab over to Terminal 1 and waited for the Delta desk to open. People-watching in the Dubai airport is quite interesting, as folks from all over the world are passing through: Chinese stewardesses in long slinky dresses, Arabic men in their white thawbs and kheffiyas, Indian women wearing the traditional sari, Europeans in business suits, Americans in shorts and T-shirts, and all manner in between. Eventually the desk opened, I got checked in, and headed off to the passport line. Where I was stopped. I'd only been in-country for two hours and apparently my entry into the country had not made it through the system yet. But it got straightened out after a bit of a wait, and off I went to wait on my plane to board.
At the gate, I wound up talking with a very interesting man. He's a naturalized American from Afghanistan who is now working in the country. There are a lot of people like that in both government service and with the contractors. This man's father had just died the day before and he was on his way home. He told me about his father's accomplishments, and then the topic drifted to our mission, how it was proceeding, and what the various possible outcomes were. He had a lot of insight and, really, he just needed to talk. I barely said a word, just listened.
But then it was time for me to get on the plane. We loaded up and left on schedule for the long 14-hour flight. It always amazes me that you can stuff that many people into a long metal tube, with all their junk, get it in the air, and land it halfway around the world 14 hours later. It's mind-boggling, really. I watched a movie and a couple of TV shows and actually managed to get a few short snatches of sleep here and there.
We landed in Atlanta early in the morning and went through the immigration lines. Atlanta is far and away better than Dulles. It's more modern and better arranged, but the biggest difference is the people. Even at 5:30 in the morning, they were cheerful, efficient, and friendly. I don't think I've ever seen anybody at Dulles be cheerful or friendly. Efficient, yes, but definitely not cheerful or friendly. Never.
And one of the best things is hearing the immigration agent tell you "welcome home".
The final hop to Asheville was pleasant. The sun was up and I could look out the window at my own country again. We landed, I grabbed my backpack, and headed out the door, where Janis and the dogs were waiting. It was a great homecoming!
What really hit me on the drive home was how green everything was. Southern Afghanistan is brown. Western North Carolina is GREEN. Green trees, green grass, green fields. What a difference. Another thing was how fortunate we are to live in this country. Even a small house in North Carolina is a palace compared to the mud-walled, dirt-floored homes that shelter millions in Afghanistan. We take 24-hour electricity, clean running water, paved roads, and general lack of warfare for granted. Trust me, these are blessings.
So now I'm home for a couple of weeks. I've got a honey-do list that's not too big. We've got dinner dates with friends and tickets to a ball game. I need to start making some contacts for after-Afghanistan employment.
Mostly, I just want to be with Janis and the dogs. Home again.
The trip back was pretty uneventful. I flew from Kandahar to Dubai, then took a cab over to Terminal 1 and waited for the Delta desk to open. People-watching in the Dubai airport is quite interesting, as folks from all over the world are passing through: Chinese stewardesses in long slinky dresses, Arabic men in their white thawbs and kheffiyas, Indian women wearing the traditional sari, Europeans in business suits, Americans in shorts and T-shirts, and all manner in between. Eventually the desk opened, I got checked in, and headed off to the passport line. Where I was stopped. I'd only been in-country for two hours and apparently my entry into the country had not made it through the system yet. But it got straightened out after a bit of a wait, and off I went to wait on my plane to board.
At the gate, I wound up talking with a very interesting man. He's a naturalized American from Afghanistan who is now working in the country. There are a lot of people like that in both government service and with the contractors. This man's father had just died the day before and he was on his way home. He told me about his father's accomplishments, and then the topic drifted to our mission, how it was proceeding, and what the various possible outcomes were. He had a lot of insight and, really, he just needed to talk. I barely said a word, just listened.
But then it was time for me to get on the plane. We loaded up and left on schedule for the long 14-hour flight. It always amazes me that you can stuff that many people into a long metal tube, with all their junk, get it in the air, and land it halfway around the world 14 hours later. It's mind-boggling, really. I watched a movie and a couple of TV shows and actually managed to get a few short snatches of sleep here and there.
We landed in Atlanta early in the morning and went through the immigration lines. Atlanta is far and away better than Dulles. It's more modern and better arranged, but the biggest difference is the people. Even at 5:30 in the morning, they were cheerful, efficient, and friendly. I don't think I've ever seen anybody at Dulles be cheerful or friendly. Efficient, yes, but definitely not cheerful or friendly. Never.
And one of the best things is hearing the immigration agent tell you "welcome home".
The final hop to Asheville was pleasant. The sun was up and I could look out the window at my own country again. We landed, I grabbed my backpack, and headed out the door, where Janis and the dogs were waiting. It was a great homecoming!
What really hit me on the drive home was how green everything was. Southern Afghanistan is brown. Western North Carolina is GREEN. Green trees, green grass, green fields. What a difference. Another thing was how fortunate we are to live in this country. Even a small house in North Carolina is a palace compared to the mud-walled, dirt-floored homes that shelter millions in Afghanistan. We take 24-hour electricity, clean running water, paved roads, and general lack of warfare for granted. Trust me, these are blessings.
So now I'm home for a couple of weeks. I've got a honey-do list that's not too big. We've got dinner dates with friends and tickets to a ball game. I need to start making some contacts for after-Afghanistan employment.
Mostly, I just want to be with Janis and the dogs. Home again.
Friday, July 27, 2012
Heading Out on R&R
I'm back at Kandahar Air Field (KAF), on my way out for my last R&R. These last three months have both crept by and gone by in a flash. If you've been on a long deployment, you probably know what I mean. Frankly, I was getting a bit burned out towards the end. I need to get my brain reset for the last sprint to the finish.
Finish? Yep. Once I come back, I'll have about six weeks or so before my time in Afghanistan is up. I am not going to extend here. If I thought my efforts were making a difference, it might be worth considering, but I sure don't see it. And beating my head against a brick wall is not worth the price of separation from the family, no matter how good the pay is. So I'll go home this fall and deploy no more. Travel, yes; deploy, no.
This past week saw the start of Ramadan. This Muslim holy month typically slows down nearly everything except insurgent activities. The faithful don't eat, drink, or smoke from the first call to prayer (around 4:30 in the morning) until sundown (around 7:30 in the evening). Since the daily temperature is around 105-110 in the afternoon, they really need to be careful to avoid severe dehydration. So the working hours now are from around 6 or 7 am to around 10 am, maybe 11 for those working indoors.
As for the insurgents, their mullahs say that, since they're engaged in a holy war, they can eat and drink during the day to maintain their strength. So our Afghan security forces are often following the same ruling. No sense fighting a war when you're giving the enemy a big advantage.
But Ramadan is a good time to go on leave. I flew into KAF yesterday, got settled into my temporary rack, and took care of some business. After being out in the boonies, I'm looking at KAF with some fresh eyes. Here are the top 10 things to like about KAF:
1. Indoor flush toilets.
2. Salad bar at the DFAC.
3. Ice cream at the Boardwalk.
4. Seeing friends again after 3 months.
5. Cooked-to-order ham and cheese omelette with REAL EGGS.
6. Cappuccino at the Green Bean.
7. Did I mention indoor flush toilets?
8. Umm ... that's about it ...
So I have a couple of meetings to do today to discuss some Maiwand-specific issues. Then I need to do some paperwork. After that, read my book, pack my bag, and get ready for the flight tomorrow. Sunday morning I'll be HOME!
Finish? Yep. Once I come back, I'll have about six weeks or so before my time in Afghanistan is up. I am not going to extend here. If I thought my efforts were making a difference, it might be worth considering, but I sure don't see it. And beating my head against a brick wall is not worth the price of separation from the family, no matter how good the pay is. So I'll go home this fall and deploy no more. Travel, yes; deploy, no.
This past week saw the start of Ramadan. This Muslim holy month typically slows down nearly everything except insurgent activities. The faithful don't eat, drink, or smoke from the first call to prayer (around 4:30 in the morning) until sundown (around 7:30 in the evening). Since the daily temperature is around 105-110 in the afternoon, they really need to be careful to avoid severe dehydration. So the working hours now are from around 6 or 7 am to around 10 am, maybe 11 for those working indoors.
As for the insurgents, their mullahs say that, since they're engaged in a holy war, they can eat and drink during the day to maintain their strength. So our Afghan security forces are often following the same ruling. No sense fighting a war when you're giving the enemy a big advantage.
But Ramadan is a good time to go on leave. I flew into KAF yesterday, got settled into my temporary rack, and took care of some business. After being out in the boonies, I'm looking at KAF with some fresh eyes. Here are the top 10 things to like about KAF:
1. Indoor flush toilets.
2. Salad bar at the DFAC.
3. Ice cream at the Boardwalk.
4. Seeing friends again after 3 months.
5. Cooked-to-order ham and cheese omelette with REAL EGGS.
6. Cappuccino at the Green Bean.
7. Did I mention indoor flush toilets?
8. Umm ... that's about it ...
So I have a couple of meetings to do today to discuss some Maiwand-specific issues. Then I need to do some paperwork. After that, read my book, pack my bag, and get ready for the flight tomorrow. Sunday morning I'll be HOME!
Saturday, July 21, 2012
Projects and Progress
We've had a pretty intense week since my last post. There were a lot of things that we were trying to get wrapped up, or started, or whatever, prior to the beginning of Ramadan. This is the month-long Muslim religious observance, during which the faithful cannot eat, drink, or smoke from sunup to sundown. As you can imagine, in a dry climate where the temperature is 105-110 every day, this is going to slow things down a bit. Ramadan started yesterday.
So, did we get everything done that needed to get done? Hell, no. But we made progress. My teammates are both with USAID and manage projects. One is still busting his tail to get the local leaders to nominate projects that can be completed under a regional program by late fall. These are basically projects that will benefit communities that we (ISAF and the Afghan government) are reaching out to. They include things like roadwork, culverts, and water projects. You may think, as I did, "we've been doing that for years, so what's the point?" What's different now is the context. In earlier years, ISAF dreamed up projects to hire a lot of people, have them do something that's somewhat productive, give them a bit of cash, and give them something else to do besides ambush our soldiers. Those programs generally met their objectives: where we did projects, there were fewer ambushes.
Now, though, we're trying to connect the people in key areas with the district government, and the district government with the provincial one. The Afghans have their own ways for these connections to work, but since ISAF has essentially been running the show out here for so long, the Afghan ways are more than a bit rusty. So we're using our programs to loosen things up. The villages decide what they need most (a well, a road, a school, whatever), and send their request up to the district development committee, which is a group of elders from around the district. They consider the request, and if they approve it, send it on to the appropriate ministry in Kandahar. That's the theory. In practice, well, as I said, it's a bit rusty. So we also have our various program managers (some military, some USAID) consider the requests, and carry out the ones that can be done within our guidelines. This way, the villages see a benefit from working with the district government.
Does it work? Well, yes, pretty much, but only when done as part of a larger effort that involves security, and only when graft and corruption are kept within Afghan-normal bounds. The districts to the east, around Kandahar City, have used this approach over the past two years. Most areas in them are pretty quiet now and the people are concerned with more routine things. I'm seeing fierce arguments and divisions over charges that so-and-so is incompetent, that another guy doesn't come to work, or a third charges too much for services and is lining his own pocket. All of which means that the Taliban is not in control of those districts anymore.
Here, though, we have a long way to go. The Taliban still controls most of this district. The Afghan government, with ISAF support, controls some. But we're pushing out further. Two months ago, I went to a shura in a strategically-located village. They basically told us to go away, that when we showed up the Taliban did, too, and they just wanted to be left in peace. ISAF and the Afghan security forces stayed anyway. This past week, one of the village elders told me that security was good and that now they needed projects. That's progress. Slow, but progress. And we're pushing beyond that village to the next ones already.
So, did we get everything done that needed to get done? Hell, no. But we made progress. My teammates are both with USAID and manage projects. One is still busting his tail to get the local leaders to nominate projects that can be completed under a regional program by late fall. These are basically projects that will benefit communities that we (ISAF and the Afghan government) are reaching out to. They include things like roadwork, culverts, and water projects. You may think, as I did, "we've been doing that for years, so what's the point?" What's different now is the context. In earlier years, ISAF dreamed up projects to hire a lot of people, have them do something that's somewhat productive, give them a bit of cash, and give them something else to do besides ambush our soldiers. Those programs generally met their objectives: where we did projects, there were fewer ambushes.
Now, though, we're trying to connect the people in key areas with the district government, and the district government with the provincial one. The Afghans have their own ways for these connections to work, but since ISAF has essentially been running the show out here for so long, the Afghan ways are more than a bit rusty. So we're using our programs to loosen things up. The villages decide what they need most (a well, a road, a school, whatever), and send their request up to the district development committee, which is a group of elders from around the district. They consider the request, and if they approve it, send it on to the appropriate ministry in Kandahar. That's the theory. In practice, well, as I said, it's a bit rusty. So we also have our various program managers (some military, some USAID) consider the requests, and carry out the ones that can be done within our guidelines. This way, the villages see a benefit from working with the district government.
Does it work? Well, yes, pretty much, but only when done as part of a larger effort that involves security, and only when graft and corruption are kept within Afghan-normal bounds. The districts to the east, around Kandahar City, have used this approach over the past two years. Most areas in them are pretty quiet now and the people are concerned with more routine things. I'm seeing fierce arguments and divisions over charges that so-and-so is incompetent, that another guy doesn't come to work, or a third charges too much for services and is lining his own pocket. All of which means that the Taliban is not in control of those districts anymore.
Here, though, we have a long way to go. The Taliban still controls most of this district. The Afghan government, with ISAF support, controls some. But we're pushing out further. Two months ago, I went to a shura in a strategically-located village. They basically told us to go away, that when we showed up the Taliban did, too, and they just wanted to be left in peace. ISAF and the Afghan security forces stayed anyway. This past week, one of the village elders told me that security was good and that now they needed projects. That's progress. Slow, but progress. And we're pushing beyond that village to the next ones already.
Friday, July 13, 2012
Political Maneuvering
The Afghan political scene has been very active since my last post. I wrote then about Mohammad Ehsan's visit to the district and the tumultuous shura that greeted him. Since then, the Afghans have been very busy. A new shura chairman has been appointed from outside, the old chairman has been assigned a specific task on rooting out a problem, and there may be some more shakeups pending. As mentioned last time, a large portion of shura members had quit coming to the meetings because they didn't like the way things were going. Now they're back.
I've talked with members on both sides of the fence. It's been really interesting. One side (just to give them a name, let's call them "Republicans") says that the other side are crooks, that they've been robbing from the people, and they're only out to line their pockets. They're really happy with the new chairman and think that now they can make progress. The other side (we'll call them "Democrats") say that the Republicans are proven criminals, they're only interested in power, and they're out to line their own pockets. They're really happy with the new chairman, too, and think that now they can make progress.
I'm really glad that I'm not the new chairman.
The good thing, as I mentioned, is that both sides are back at the table. Our shuras had been down to maybe ten guys, basically the same ones each week. But this week, over 30 showed up, and the tone of discussion was pretty civilized.
Maybe these guys can teach our politicians a few things ...
Meanwhile, we have a variety of programs ongoing. One of them is giving a lot of seed and fertilizer to district farmers. The intent is to give them legal crops as an alternative to growing poppy. Personally, I don't think this will make a bit of difference, but I had no say in the decision-making, so now we're just trying to make it work as best we can.
So here's one of the trucks that brought the seeds and fertilizer to our agricultural center. The NGO handling the distribution has sorted all these bags out and divided them into "packets", one for each farmer. They've given out over a hundred so far and are steadily working through the rest.
Meanwhile, I've continued to do artwork whenever possible. Sometimes it's in the shuras, where I can draw the people from life, hopefully without their knowing it. For the pastel drawings, though, I have to work from photos. Here are a couple of them:
Today is Friday, our "weekend", so I'm catching up on a few things. This blog, for one; but also routine things like cleaning my hooch and going over my notes and lists of things to do from the past week. It's nice to have a slow morning and not have to rush, though.
I've talked with members on both sides of the fence. It's been really interesting. One side (just to give them a name, let's call them "Republicans") says that the other side are crooks, that they've been robbing from the people, and they're only out to line their pockets. They're really happy with the new chairman and think that now they can make progress. The other side (we'll call them "Democrats") say that the Republicans are proven criminals, they're only interested in power, and they're out to line their own pockets. They're really happy with the new chairman, too, and think that now they can make progress.
I'm really glad that I'm not the new chairman.
The good thing, as I mentioned, is that both sides are back at the table. Our shuras had been down to maybe ten guys, basically the same ones each week. But this week, over 30 showed up, and the tone of discussion was pretty civilized.
Maybe these guys can teach our politicians a few things ...
Meanwhile, we have a variety of programs ongoing. One of them is giving a lot of seed and fertilizer to district farmers. The intent is to give them legal crops as an alternative to growing poppy. Personally, I don't think this will make a bit of difference, but I had no say in the decision-making, so now we're just trying to make it work as best we can.
So here's one of the trucks that brought the seeds and fertilizer to our agricultural center. The NGO handling the distribution has sorted all these bags out and divided them into "packets", one for each farmer. They've given out over a hundred so far and are steadily working through the rest.
Meanwhile, I've continued to do artwork whenever possible. Sometimes it's in the shuras, where I can draw the people from life, hopefully without their knowing it. For the pastel drawings, though, I have to work from photos. Here are a couple of them:
Khogiani Elder
Pastel on paper, 13"x12"
Afghan Girl
Pastel on paper, 13"x12"
Today is Friday, our "weekend", so I'm catching up on a few things. This blog, for one; but also routine things like cleaning my hooch and going over my notes and lists of things to do from the past week. It's nice to have a slow morning and not have to rush, though.
Tuesday, July 03, 2012
A Visitor to the Shura
A meeting between local Afghans and a high-level one is something to be experienced. At least, the one yesterday was. Two members of the Kandahar Provincial Council came to Maiwand for a visit. The Provincial Council might be thought of as the equivalent of a State Senate, although its function is quite different. One of the members, Mohammad Ehsan, is from Maiwand. He is also the Chairman of the Council, and is related (distantly) to President Hamid Karzai. In other words, he's a local boy made good. And his visit was a Big Deal.
Just how big was a surprise. I had thought that the two members would come out for a quiet talk with our District Governor and the leaders of our local councils. Instead, when we arrived, it was standing room only. Nearly every member of both our shuras had come. Our District Governor opened the meeting with what sounded like a typically flowery and well-delivered welcoming speech. I can't tell you what he said because I was trying to get my earpiece to work. Finally, it fired up in time for me to hear Mohammad Ehsan's speech (short) and then he opened the floor for discussion.
Almost immediately, one man stood up and denounced half the members of the development shura. "They're thieves!" he said, "and all who agree with me should stand up!" A big group right behind him stood up. I thought, ohboy, this is gonna be an interesting meeting. So of course, one of the shura members had to stand up and defend himself and it quickly became a shouting match. The Governor and Ehsan managed to get the meeting back under control, and Ehsan went on to give an impressive off-the-cuff talk stressing that all the members should work together to bring security and development to the district. He is an extremely skillful speaker, and his words would have done justice to any high-level American politician.
But they only worked for so long. Pretty soon, more accusations flew, fingers pointed, voices raised, and the Governor and Ehsan had to calm things down again. And again. It didn't help when the Governor was the butt of accusations, either. At one point, the interpreter on the radio, who was giving a running translation of the discussion, gave up and said ".... aaaaaand another fight breaks out ..." They could have gone on all day, but eventually we had to wrap things up so our guests could catch the helicopter back to Kandahar City. And then everybody filed out like brothers.
Odd as it may sound, I was really happy about this meeting. Our shuras have seen steadily declining attendance over the past several months. This meeting showed that there are some deep divisions that are apparently the cause. But it also showed that there is a lot of energy and passion, and that people are willing to mix it up in the right circumstances. I spoke with the Governor later and he felt the same way. Our challenge, now, is to get those disenchanted people back into the shuras, and even get them shouting at each other again. That's how they'll figure out solutions.
Monday, June 25, 2012
Kids in a Village
One of our patrols was out in a village the other day. As always, kids came running up to them, calling out "Chocolate! Chocolate!" One was a little girl, maybe 8 years old. The soldier didn't have any chocolate, so he tossed her a Clif bar. She looked at it a second, then threw it back at him hard enough to bounce off his helmet, and shouted "Chocolate! Fuck you!"
Don't mess with a little girl who knows what she wants!
Don't mess with a little girl who knows what she wants!
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
Chicken Training
My post yesterday triggered a note from a reader today. Here's the text:
Hi Skip,
I am reading you blog and came across your work with your tem in Afghanistan.
Although I thought you doing a good job there that make people happy and save but when I came today reading you latest post I cannot hold myself from laughing loudly and I reach to point falling from my chair.
Are you serious that you really smart guy by teaching Afghani how to raise chickens?
I lost my words what to say more that mother nature have giving and doing all things to humans from the day of creation you don’t need to bother for teaching what human learned for centuries how to each or drink and get their food.
Just get sick and tired of this Whiteman stupidity over others.
I was about to send a note back, but then thought that this raises some issues that others might be interested in.
Yes, we arranged for an NGO to teach 20 local women how to raise chickens. Some may think that all Afghans know how to do this, particularly way out here, far away from the big city of Kandahar. Unfortunately, they don't. There are too many women around here who do not have a man to take care of them. Maybe they're widows, or abandoned, or whatever. In this society, men are responsible for women. If a woman is not lucky enough to have a man to care for her, then her economic options are severely limited.
Here in Maiwand, such women have not been able to benefit from the US-sponsored seed distributions for some very dumb (in my mind) reasons. They are generally shuffled off to the outside of society. I've seen them begging at the District Center. Many have children, and these kids suffer when the mother suffers.
So we arranged to have an NGO come in to do this class. Raising chickens, you may think, is a no-brainer. Not so. It's not rocket science, but there are things that need to be done to ensure that the chickens remain healthy and produce eggs. This class taught them how to make chicken coops that were reasonably cool in the summer (important here), had adequate ventilation, were easy to clean out, and provided security. They were taught how to care for their adult chickens as well as the chicks, including feeding, water, what sort of health conditions to watch for, and more. After the women built adequate coops and showed that they knew how to properly care for their chickens, they each received about 40 of the birds. So now these women have a source of food for themselves and their families that they can sustain over the long term.
This course did more than just teach them how to raise chickens. It provided them with a shared experience and a sense of both community and empowerment. (I can't speak from first-hand experience here, I'm relying on what our female soldiers reported). Most of these women had virtually nothing, but now they have something that will help them survive.
I have seen many programs in Afghanistan that I thought were really stupid, that wasted time, money, and effort. Afghan men figured out how to game the system long ago so they could make maximum benefit from these programs. I see lots of focus by district leaders on these large, expensive programs, that too often result in little benefit to the district, but in which they make large sums of cash. This chicken program was a low-cost effort that directly benefited a small number of people who needed help very much. So, while it may seem ridiculous to teach an Afghan how to raise chickens, I make no apologies for it.
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Kids
We had a big event over at the District Center today. A class that was teaching a bunch of local widows how to raise chickens, so they could feed their families and earn a little cash, was completed. As their graduation present, they each got a bunch of chickens to take home and keep in the chicken coops they had built during the class.
As is typical of Afghan activities, it was chaos. Things that were supposed to happen, didn't. The start time came and went long before things actually started. Things that weren't scheduled, happened. This is Afghanistan, and if you're wedded to a schedule, you won't make it here!
But finally, each woman came up and received her chickens. The fun part was putting the chickens into cardboard boxes to take home. The chickens were not at all interested in being stuffed in any cardboard box. So every couple of minutes, one of them would escape and go running around, chased by wildly screaming kids, until it was captured and brought back. A few minutes later, another one would make a run for it. Eventually, though, all the chickens were loaded up and taken off to their new homes. Twenty women now have a way to help themselves, and their kids, survive.
Kids were everywhere today. This is a small part of the batch. One of our soldiers wanted to take a picture of a couple of kids, and one of the women saw that, so she started rounding up every stray youngster in the area. She was definitely in command: these kids did as they were told! They just didn't necessarily look at the camera, though.
I've said before that soldiers are kid-magnets. Female soldiers are girl-magnets. Here's one of our young soldiers playing patty-cake with local girl.
As the soldiers left, this young girl hung onto their hands all the way out the gate.
These three young princesses came late to the ceremony, but were definitely the belles of the ball.
As is typical of Afghan activities, it was chaos. Things that were supposed to happen, didn't. The start time came and went long before things actually started. Things that weren't scheduled, happened. This is Afghanistan, and if you're wedded to a schedule, you won't make it here!
But finally, each woman came up and received her chickens. The fun part was putting the chickens into cardboard boxes to take home. The chickens were not at all interested in being stuffed in any cardboard box. So every couple of minutes, one of them would escape and go running around, chased by wildly screaming kids, until it was captured and brought back. A few minutes later, another one would make a run for it. Eventually, though, all the chickens were loaded up and taken off to their new homes. Twenty women now have a way to help themselves, and their kids, survive.
Kids were everywhere today. This is a small part of the batch. One of our soldiers wanted to take a picture of a couple of kids, and one of the women saw that, so she started rounding up every stray youngster in the area. She was definitely in command: these kids did as they were told! They just didn't necessarily look at the camera, though.
I've said before that soldiers are kid-magnets. Female soldiers are girl-magnets. Here's one of our young soldiers playing patty-cake with local girl.
As the soldiers left, this young girl hung onto their hands all the way out the gate.
These three young princesses came late to the ceremony, but were definitely the belles of the ball.
Friday, June 15, 2012
Another Week
It's been a busy week here in the wilds of southern Afghanistan. My little team has been wrapped up in some very contentious issues with local officials. What it boils down to is a matter of trust, or rather, the lack of it. We have tried to move some projects along, but local officials don't trust the contractors, and the contractors don't trust the local officials. Meanwhile, the local residents don't trust the district governor (who is not from here), nor do they trust the police, the provincial government, the national government, my little team, or ISAF. How do you get past that? Well, you just tell the truth, don't over-promise, and do what you say you're going to do. Same as anywhere in the US, except here we're starting from way behind the 8-ball.
One of the things that has hampered us this week has been the organization charged with carrying out some of our projects. See, the way we work is that the US civilian government does not do these projects on its own. We use non-governmental organizations (NGOs) to carry out our programs, simply because we don't have the people to do it all ourselves. NGO's are the organizations who provide managers, hire the contractors, buy the stuff that needs to be bought, hire local labor, coordinate with local officials, and do all the actual grunt work of carrying out a program. For the past week, one of the NGO's has been a real headache for us. Essentially, they over-promised and under-delivered on too many things. This really irked the locals (as well as us). Partially as a result, they do not have a good relationship with people here. So some of our programs are stalled while people yell at other people. Some of the meetings got really ugly this week.
But other meetings went surprisingly well. There is one area in which there has been some tension between different sides, but they all made an extra effort this week and really moved things along. I was impressed. Unfortunately, it wasn't MY area, so I can't take any credit nor enjoy the fruits of improved coordination. Rats. But I'll keep banging my head against the brick wall of local officials and NGO's this next week, and sooner or later I might make a dent. Or not.
One thing I was able to do earlier this week was more pastel work. Here's one of them:
I think it turned out pretty well. I'm still working at doing more. Sometimes they go on my studio Facebook page and sometimes they go in the trash can.
During the shura earlier this week, I did some more ink drawing as well, and here's one:
Today (Friday) was our "weekend". So I took some "me" time. I got up a bit late, cleaned up my little hooch, dusted (coff coff coff), aired the place out, and basically just fluffed my nest. This afternoon, I had to write a couple of reports, so it wasn't all play. Now that I'm caught up here, I think it's time to get the pastels out again ...
One of the things that has hampered us this week has been the organization charged with carrying out some of our projects. See, the way we work is that the US civilian government does not do these projects on its own. We use non-governmental organizations (NGOs) to carry out our programs, simply because we don't have the people to do it all ourselves. NGO's are the organizations who provide managers, hire the contractors, buy the stuff that needs to be bought, hire local labor, coordinate with local officials, and do all the actual grunt work of carrying out a program. For the past week, one of the NGO's has been a real headache for us. Essentially, they over-promised and under-delivered on too many things. This really irked the locals (as well as us). Partially as a result, they do not have a good relationship with people here. So some of our programs are stalled while people yell at other people. Some of the meetings got really ugly this week.
But other meetings went surprisingly well. There is one area in which there has been some tension between different sides, but they all made an extra effort this week and really moved things along. I was impressed. Unfortunately, it wasn't MY area, so I can't take any credit nor enjoy the fruits of improved coordination. Rats. But I'll keep banging my head against the brick wall of local officials and NGO's this next week, and sooner or later I might make a dent. Or not.
One thing I was able to do earlier this week was more pastel work. Here's one of them:
Village Elder
Pastel on toned paper, 12"x10"
During the shura earlier this week, I did some more ink drawing as well, and here's one:
Bazaar Merchant
Ballpoint on paper, 9"x6"
Today (Friday) was our "weekend". So I took some "me" time. I got up a bit late, cleaned up my little hooch, dusted (coff coff coff), aired the place out, and basically just fluffed my nest. This afternoon, I had to write a couple of reports, so it wasn't all play. Now that I'm caught up here, I think it's time to get the pastels out again ...
Thursday, June 07, 2012
Color Sketch
Abdul H.
Pen, ink, and pastel on toned paper
12"x10"
This past week, a box with my art supplies finally arrived. I broke out my pastels, drawing pen, and toned paper today to see what would happen. Well, this is what happened. This gent is one of the elders in our district. I worked from a photo this time, in contrast to my pen and pencil sketches, which are almost all done from life. I think it turned out pretty well. It sure was fun working with color again!
Tuesday, June 05, 2012
A Few More Pictures
Okay, I'm back in my normal state of having lots of stuff to write about and no time to do it. So I'll post a few pictures instead.
Soldiers are a magnet for kids. Anytime we head over to the District Center, all the kids come running. This day, several of us were standing around waiting for something to finish up, and we were surrounded by kids the whole time.
Carpool, Afghanistan-style.
This is my normal view from my little hooch. Scenery here on the FOB is mostly T-walls (essentially, great big Jersey barriers), huts made from 2x4's and plywood, desert-tan tents, and varying numbers of MRAPs and Strykers. And crushed gravel. Lots of crushed gravel.
On Friday, I did some house-cleaning. My rug was filthy, so I took it outside and beat it to death, then washed the corpse down with water and soap. Surprise! It's still useable. And very red. I'd thought it was brown.
Moonrise over Maiwand. Full moons always give everything an air of mystery, don't they?
Rest easy, America. Soldiers and their Strykers are watching out for you.
Soldiers are a magnet for kids. Anytime we head over to the District Center, all the kids come running. This day, several of us were standing around waiting for something to finish up, and we were surrounded by kids the whole time.
Carpool, Afghanistan-style.
This is my normal view from my little hooch. Scenery here on the FOB is mostly T-walls (essentially, great big Jersey barriers), huts made from 2x4's and plywood, desert-tan tents, and varying numbers of MRAPs and Strykers. And crushed gravel. Lots of crushed gravel.
On Friday, I did some house-cleaning. My rug was filthy, so I took it outside and beat it to death, then washed the corpse down with water and soap. Surprise! It's still useable. And very red. I'd thought it was brown.
Moonrise over Maiwand. Full moons always give everything an air of mystery, don't they?
Rest easy, America. Soldiers and their Strykers are watching out for you.
Monday, May 28, 2012
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!
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!
Friday, May 25, 2012
"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.
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.
Thursday, May 24, 2012
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.
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.
Saturday, May 19, 2012
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.
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.
Saturday, May 12, 2012
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!
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!
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