You gain something, you lose something

Life in Kabul will never be the same. The government has announced 24-hour electricity and it has actually happened! The funny thing is that city power is actually too weak to power our internet receiver at the office, so we still have to run our generator... but at least now government offices--where computers used to sit on desks collecting dust--will probably increase their productivity exponentially... well, at least we can hope so.
But having received this great gift, it was clear that something would have to be taken away from us...
In Kabul there is no "Green Zone", there are just streets that have been blocked creating a small enclave in the middle of the city, which can only be infiltrated by armored 4Runners usually belonging to one of the embassies or one of the ministries. After the suicide bombing last week "the powers that be" also blocked the main road that passed directly through this area, creating a traffic nightmare. (see map to see how large the area has become) Nobody is sure who is responsible for closing off yet another road to traffic, but they sure haven't made many friends among Kabul residents.
This kind of response is yet another example of some of the non-sensical "security measures" that embassy people and others put into place, at the expense of the sanity of their staff and, in this case, the sanity of all Kabul drivers and riders. Other examples include having curfues at night despite the fact that, to my knowledge, there has never been an incident of any kind in Kabul between 6 pm and 6 am. Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong.
In any case, despite all the embassy curfues and restrictions on their movement, life for us in Kabul continues. Thursday night is the big "night out" in Kabul, so one will inevitable end up party-hopping and taking advantage of the traffic-free streets to go to a party at the other side of the city, which during the day time would not be worth the journey.
Since nobody is working on Fridays, this is the day of sports/exercise for all those who don't have a gym in their own basement (USAID contractors & co.) I used to think that frisbee was the only thing going on, but I have since learned that I can play volleyball, hockey, and even possibly go paragliding! Last week volleyball was a bit depressing because I ended up playing amongst members of the Afghan olympic team (and didn't know it at the time), but this week there were just "normal" players and it was more fun. Most of the players were Afghans, one of which is the son of the Minister of Health, which is the only way we have access to the hospital's gym where the court is. I just hope the hospital road also doesn't get blocked soon.

Blankets

Instead of sitting around in our Kabul office during the winter months with not much to do other than feed our wood-burning heater every few minutes, we decided to try to get some money to help the recent returnees in Khak-e-Jabar with coping with the winter. Last week we found out that we had succeeded in securing some funds "from the American people" to distribute nearly 8,000 blankets to over 3,500 families and so yes, that means that it's time to go back to Khak-e-Jabar, our district of choice.
I, of course, was excited to finally get back out to the communities there, but when the announcement was made that someone from the finance department should also go, it became clear that the finance guys were going to try everything they could not to go. Our Pakistani Finance Director took the easy way out and used some lame excuse like "I have to finish a report that's due", and being the boss he was quick to delegate. Yama, the second in charge, was claiming that he had hit somone from Khak-e-Jabar with his car a while back and that it would not be wise for him to show up in the district. Meanwhile Mansoor, our procurement guy, played the "job description" card and claimed that there was nothing written in his job description about him having to travel outside of Kabul. Finally it came to Hameed, our admin guy, who said "let the old man go, he has already lived a full life, but we are still young, we shouldn't risk our lives!"
As you can see from the pictures, me and the program team went, and it was great. We showed up at the center of the district, finalized the details of distribution with three of the local elders and a district representative, sweezed everyone into our pickup, and headed over to Chakari, where we were meant to distribute nearly 1500 blankets just that day. As soon as one of the elders got out of the car he told one young boy standing around to go make an announcement, while another kid was sent to prepare tea. Within a minute or two, loudspeakers were calling the people, not to prayer, but to congregate for blankets. Kids of all ages and men of all sizes started making their way out of their homes and we could see waves of people approaching the distribution point. We ended up distributing right outside of a school, but we couldn't really get started until the police arrived because in this particular community, a bunch of elders and some NGO guys coming from Kabul are just not good enough to assure orderly conduct. As the police arrived, children scattered in all directions, and a few minutes later, just when it looked like order had been established, a fight broke out. The police were good to use their AK-47s only as batons, and order was restored. The distribution was ready to begin. Names were called, people approached the table where "the commission" was sitting, and after leaving their finger print, picked up 2 blankets per family. In some cases you had some children coming to pick up 6 or even 8 blankets because they had been sent as their neighbor's or their relative's representatives. Having started our distribution at around 11:30 am, and having had a quick lunch inside the school (the meal had been brought in pots from nearby homes), we were done by 4:30 or so. The Khak-e-Jabar police officers, unfortunately for them, don't really qualify as beneficiaries since they are only serving in Khak-e-Jabar and their families are not actually in the district. I explained this to them, but they inevitably wanted to be included in the list. Eventually I decided that it would be wise to add them to the list and that it would be better to make friends with the police, as opposed to make enemies of them. Well, the next day we got a call from the Commander in the district who said that he had put all the police guys who had been at the distribution in jail for having forced me into giving them blankets; they would be there for a few weeks, if not months, he said. We quickly tried to clear up the misunderstanding and managed to convince him that they were not at fault. His decision: "ok, only one more night in the cold jail." I haven't talked to the policemen, so I am not sure how they feel about all this, so I might have to skip the next couple distributions. Hopefully they'll be using their blankets soon enough and be thankful in the end.

The peace of snow

Walking into the British Embassy last week I was pleased to discover that the threat level in Kabul is also Orange, just like in US airports! The advice on the sign says to stay "alert". With all the puddles of mud and slush along the entrance into the embassy I would say that it's a good recommendation.
However, other than the disruptions that the snow and the cold have brought in terms of keeping yourself feet dry and warm, the snow has brought peace... or so it seems. You might be thinking, "what about the suicide bombing on Saturday?" But you need to keep in mind, that unlike most other places, peace in Afghanistan is relative. The cold kills people's will to go out, so you'll notice that the suicide bombers prefer to carry out their plans within the warmth of a Toyota vehicle... and with vehicles in the city being checked pretty routinely, Kabul feels more peaceful than ever.
Winter nights in Kabul are clearer than any other time of year and, in the absence of dust and light pollution, stargazing in Kabul is now better than in almost any other world capital. Then, as the sun awakes just after 6 am you can see the surrounding hills turning a shade of violet with patches of white snow still shining in the moonlight.
They say that the snow is generally good for rural Afghanistan since it means that in the spring there will be more water for irrigating the fields, but what to do with snow in the cities? Well, the Afghans I have met have all given me the impression that they are very much in touch with their inner child, even those well into their 40s, and my colleagues engaging in a snowball fight in the middle of the work day last week was yet another sign of this. I decided to join the fun and I ran to the roof to take the high ground, but as I looked out onto the white city and to the mountains all around, I didn't feel like fighting anymore... I'm starting to think that global cooling would be a good solution to the fighting here.

Reasons to smile

In my father's words, "Auguri per un 2009 come vuoi tu!" (Roughly translated as, "I wish you a 2009 the way you want it!") It might seem like a generic New Year's wish, but coming from my dad the message was clear: "the way YOU want your 2009 to be is not the way I want it to be"... But for now it's the way I want it to be, and 2009 began for me in Kabul.
When I tell people that I'm happy to be back in Kabul after having been gone for almost a month trekking in the Himalayas and cruisin' down the Nile, they look at me like I'm crazy. They are pretty quick to point out all the reasons I shouldn't miss Kabul: the earthquakes (two 5.8 earthquakes in a row welcomed me home); the 12 hours of city power a week (thank goodness for generators); and the below-zero temperatures seem to be the first that come to mind.
So why am I happy to be back?
Well, it's because there are so many reasons to smile...
One day I might sit and watch one of our guards and one of our drivers go back and forth about who has the "tougher job" and deserves the bigger salary. The driver will argue that he risks his life every day driving the staff to the field, while the guard claims that being an un-armed guard for a bunch of foreigners is even more life-threatening... "If a guy shows up with a gun," he says, "who do think is the first person they are going to kill?"
Another day I might be at a meeting and hear about how the UN's agencies (UNICEF, UNHCR, WFP, and the others) have still not decided on a definition of the 7 regions of Afghanistan (and even the fact that there are 7 is a point of contention). This means that everyone's statistics and data for the Central Region, for example, can only be compared after a consensus has been reached as to whose definition of the Central Region will be abided by.
I have to smile when our cleaner comes into my office every morning and says "it's so cold in here, you will get sick". I need to find the Dari word for "jinx" so that I can start responding, "I'm NOT sick! Stop jinxing me!"
And how can you not smile when you discover that, when one of your colleagues says to you "see you Tuesday", he really means "see you Sunday". He speaks to me in Russian, so at first I thought he was just confused, but then I realized that he's just thinking of Sunday as Tuesday because he pretends that Friday in Afghanistan is like Sunday in Christian coutries since it is the official day off for everyone. Confused yet? All this means that I won't only have to translate (linguistically) the days of the week he tells me in Russian, but translate them in terms of what they mean for the Afghan work week. I think I might try to stick to "tomorrow", "yesterday", or other clearer time words, although it will be hard to do so without smiling.