I did not blog in Afghanistan. I should have, but I did not. You could blame it on many reasons, but in retrospect I believe most of my mental energy was consumed by stress. That combined with the fact that the Internet was repeatedly down, websites were repeatedly blocked--or the recurrence of power cuts made it quite the task.
Decompressing from life in a war zone is not easy. I truly believe if you are to survive, then you have to mentally remove yourself from reality. If you don't, then you risk breakdown and all too often you see your colleagues go through it.You see hear and feel the reality of how fleeting life can be from the bombs exploding and land mines that are marked. You see the flares set off by planes to divert rocket launches and wake to your windows shaking from a suicide blast that was clearly not far from your home. Text messages assuring you that 'the machine gun fire you are currently hearing is only a test'--and this becomes your reality. You joke of always having your grab bag ready--15 kilos of your most important items in case you have to evacuate immediately--and sometimes you actually use it. I did and actually re-enacted the opening scene of MASH by running for a helicopter to get out of a remote area due to a colleague who had lost his marbles--he was not able to remove himself from the reality like I mention above.
The worst of it is when you go to someone for comfort, more like search for someone who can be a source of it. But alas you never find that person. They too need someone to assure them that it will be okay, but in a fluid environment that changes without warning assurance is a luxury that no one can afford. Everyone is scared and if they say they're not then they're a trying to be proud.
The most chilling is when you receive the warning that an attack is imminent or that a vehicle known to have a bomb in it is on the loose in your city. Or when you hear your colleague's home has been attacked--knowing you had been in that area only an evening or week earlier having dinner and you could have been victim. Your only crime? Being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
I think the worst of it is that hope has left the country. Everyone you speak to has the same reaction when you inquire as to the future of the country. Often they shrug their shoulders and tell you Afghanistan is war. That's all they know at this point. 30 years of it and it won't end any time soon. I hope for the peron who can bring that hope and faith so desperately needed by the people--I can assure you that Karzai is not that person. His opponent in last August's election, Abdullah Abdullah, did give many a flicker of hope in their eyes. But alas, corruption won once again and Karzai is still in his posh palace assuring Western leaders they have his full support.
Many ask me what the solution is to it all and my response would be the same as all the policy makers--not a clue.
That being said, Afghanistan is also a place of beauty and hospitality that does not exist elsewhere. The whole of the country is not at war. You can literally draw a line in the country between the north and south and determine where problems will arise. It is the south where the fighting exists the most--centered around the Pashtun tribe and poppy fields. In the north, it is quite calm. You can see some of the most spectacular scenery from the mountains and also see the eerie blue waters of the BandAmir lakes.
Hotels do exist and the owners wait endlessly for the return of the travelers who in the '70s used to come following their wanderlust on the 'hippie trail' leading on into nearby India and Nepal. Adventure tour companies cater to the intrepid tourists, though there is a hefty cost.
I leave with one last clarification--not all the women are wearing the burkha and I for sure did not have to do so. As a non-Muslim female you do not even have to wear a veil--though it is the de rigeur of nearly every female you encounter.
I'm sifting through my notes and journals and will write more of my days in Afghanistan--though it will be in reflections. I'm still trying to understand things that I saw and forget some of the feelings that I felt--though I understand that I never will.
