Afghan Criminal Justice System

I recently attended a national level news reporter's interview with my Director hosted by the US led "rule of law" General. The interview was focused on a new Afghan concept to build rule of law centers... imagine an assembly line factory, but this one is for processing criminals/terrorists/suspects. I'll explain the criminal justice system.

Criminals are arrested and brought to the center where they are interrogated (not tortured, questioned). The police report then goes to a prosecutor in the next room who determines if there is enough evidence to go to trial pushing it to a judge in the next room or releasing the individual. There are courtrooms and defense attorneys in the next room/building, where a trial is held and the individual is adjudicatated... released or go to prison. There is a holding facility and prison within the center's complex/compound. Then, there are various levels of custody for those convicted (max, medium, minimum). The compound is very secure as threats to judges and prosecutors are continual and real. So, these folks and their families live inside the secured compound.

After the interview, the US General hosted a dinner for his staff and the many visitors working in his area that day. One of these visitors was a Provincial Governor pictured above. He governs in one of the high threat provinces (states)... what an impressive man. At the end our extended discussion over dinner, I approached him and asked if he was willing to move to NH to run for governor... I was serious and promised to get him the political backing he needed. He was (or at least left the impression) a man of great wisdom and ethics who truly cared about bringing peace to his province which would allow a much higher quality of life for his citizens. Pragmatic too.

Panoramic Views of Afghanistan

Flying over Afghanistan I was just amazed by the vast and barren terrain. It looks like a huge dustbin from afar. So, thought I'd share with you the best I could.

Amazingly as you will see in the center picture, they do grow crops (look for splash of green). Of course these are probably poppy plants (think heroine) which is sadly Afghanistan's greatest cash crop despite billions invested by the international community to eradicate. But, I digress.

We are now in severe draught conditions, everything here in Kabul is covered in dirt. Please note I did not say dust or even sand. It's just dirt everywhere: in the air, on the ground, everywhere inside the offices/safe houses all in despite of daily cleaning, and most importantly in my sinuses. Thank you again Chaput for the sinus saline packs to flush them out every night and sometimes mornings too... won't go into details on this one because it's just too gross. Branden, you would like this story but will save it for when I visit you in Auburn.

Given my grueling work schedule, I'm changing my blog tactics. I've decided to write shorter blogs with more pictures and will try hard to get them out more often. Note the word TRY.

Merry Christmas Finally

Merry Christmas All My Wonderful Friends and Family,

I apologize for the lapse in blog submissions and can't even use the holidays as an excuse. No, just work. Described my big "project" with my Afghan Ministry colleagues in a previous blog... well, that became quite consuming for me and for them. However, the result was most inspiring for me and I believe insightful/motivating for them. In the end, it should prove a great impetus to further development. All my training, education and experience finally paid off. Of course, this "success" has led to other intense endeavors. More on that later but now Christmas.

The pictures were taken by my now disposed of camera at the European Union Police (EUPOL) compound... a "traditional" Christmas Mart like you would find in Europe. Food booths were set up by the various representing nations along with gluwein (hot wine) which fortunately I do not care for so passed on that and other offers of imbibing. All in all, a most pleasant evening. And, it was Asa's first Christmas party. It proved interesting trying to explain the concept of Santa which I went to great lengths to do. After many stories/explanations she asked: "Isn't Christmas a celebration of Jesus' Birthday"... she was so very right.

I did have Christmas Eve off because it was Friday, my normal day off. I slept most of the afternoon away and then went to bed early. It was a good day. We got word at the last minute that Christmas was a low operations tempo day and I took advantage. Woke up early to open presents in my room that were sent from home (thank you again). Then went over for coffee with the normal gang, coming home to work on some documents in my room. Took even more naps and then went to the US Embassy cafeteria for Christmas dinner with some of the wonderful folks I work with. It proved a day of cotemplation to consider all the wonderful blessings bestowed on me. I seem to do that alot here.

MERRY CHRISTMAS and A MOST JOYOUS AND PROSPEROUS NEW YEAR FOR ALL... BIG BLOG HUGS FOR ALL

Big Project

I am working a pretty big project these days with my Afghan colleagues, these being three of the key Gents I'm working with. I find their work processes interesting so I thought you would too.


There are large conference tables in many of the key officials' offices, but they rarely use them prefering instead to gather around a series of couches with coffee tables in front. Problem is that there isn't much room to work on the coffee tables as they are laden with chai (green tea) along with an array of nuts, candies, dried fruit and cookies. Each official has what we call a "chai boy" (sometimes girl) who initially serve and then replenishes throughout the meeting. I'm told this person is usually an acquaintance of the senior official and is paid out of pocket; it's charity. I never eat the snacks (everyone just digs hands in: think TYPHOID) but it's just not polite not to drink the chai. That, and I really like chai. I just remain in denial about how they wash the cups or where they get the water from, hoping they at least boil it.

Right now, I am helping the anti-crime police team build organization charts which is proving a daunting task only because they want to make it more difficult than it has to be. Power point and the mechanics of putting chart to paper is also proving a challenge and requires significant oversight. This is a very important police development effort, designed by me, to define their organization, responsibilities and synchronization of operations, personnel, support, intelligence, training. Don't want to go into detail but let's just say I'm finally using all my training, education, and experience working this one project.

Oh ya, I also wanted you to know I've been moved up to a higher level in the Ministry hierarchy. I am now mentoring the Director of Afghan Anti-Crime Police who overseas many organizations to include Criminal Investigations. And no, there is no more money in it for me but the right level for me to be working at. Still working with a series of international and US advisors within the organization which can also prove daunting. Given all this, the blog entries have had to slow down some, finding I can only do snippets at a time.... but snippettng away.

"Mele Kalikimaka to all and to all a good night"

The Vans

This picture depicts the vans we travel in throughout primarily Kabul on a daily basis. Right now, they are lined up along the road outside where our safehouses are located... mine is in a doorway between the two trees. As you can see, there is no shortage of vans in the morning to take us to the military compound where our primary offices are. However, I normally walk with my friend Rob and sometimes others who join us for intriguing conversation.


The military, when moving outside their very secured compound, always travel in a minimum of two armored vehicles with combat certified drivers and of course in full combat gear. These convoys must be scheduled and a patrol brief completed before departing the compound with everyone in the vehicle having a specified responsibility in the event of just about anything.



My procedures? Jump into one of these vans, which later in the morning are lined up outside the military compound, and head off to wherever I am going for the day. Our vans look like about 40% of the other vehicles in Kabul, the company calls them low profile vehicles. I believe most of our drivers have a driver's license, but wouldn't put my paycheck on it. We do wear armored vests but not helmets and as I've already shared with you, no guns. This combination all contributes to what we call "low profile travel." It actually seems to work the way it's intended and sooooooo much easier to arrange transport than the military. It's amazing what they cannot do because of transport challenges so they stay inside the secured compounds waaaaay too much. I actually like the freedom this procedure allows and actually feel safer in our vans than when I travel in the military vehicles.

I wish you all a most joyous Christmas holiday. Discreet signs of Christmas are randomly popping up around the military compound now, a good thing for so many. Many of the guys in the company who've been here over the years are heading home in the next couple of days, while us new guys are holding down the fort. Just think how good Christmas will be for me next year when I'm settled in back home again.

Fond Memories

I never realized how dirty I was until I got clean in Dubai. Indeed, my hair really isn't like straw and squeaks when clean. My face and body... clean. I brushed my teeth using the water from the faucet. The carpets and walls and BATHROOM... all clean. There truly is a story behind each of these pictures.

#1: View from the balcony of my room. That would be the Persian Gulf you are looking at. Never imagined the waters of the Persian Gulf being so very crystal clean and a perfect temperature... all with sandy beaches. Sadly, I saw more than one woman in full black covering (to include her eyes) accompanying her husband and children who were all in beachwear. Of course, she was the one carrying all the beach gear while they played their way to their beach "spot". During the heat of the day, I retreated from the beach back to my clean room to read a wonderful novel my cousin Lynda sent to me... still reading it in Afghanistan.

#2: You're probably picking up that I like camels. Caught this picture of a local entrepeneur who gave camel rides on the beach. No, I did not take one. Saving that adventure for my next trip in February to Jordan. Yes, you'll probably see more camels then.

#3: Sunset on the beach in front of the hotel. Self-Explanatory.

#4: Needless to say, this one has a story behind it and yes, I'm going to share it with you... you don't have to read it. Anyway, one of my Army Colonel buddies over here had a bet with his buds that he could get a picture of a woman in a burka having a cocktail... he asked me to help him win that bet. So, I borrowed a burka (what you see me wearing) and had Jim take this picture. An afterthought: fill the bathtub with water for a wet burka contest picture with glass of wine. Tried finding one of them "umbrella" drinks for the picture, but they're not at all available in Dubai so had to settle for the wine. Needless to say, it did the trick and my Army buddy was thrilled... I'm now known here as "The Burka Babe". Something unexpected did happen to me during this charade. When I jokingly put the burka on, I was actually quite traumatized by it... something I just didn't expect. I'm not in the least claustrophobic and nor do I fear ever having to wear one of these for real, but just couldn't stand to have it on me. The experience is really hard to explain. My level of empathy for the many women over here who wear these has grown exponentially. I have decided to buy a burka before I depart Afghanistan to have my many friends/family back home experience this for yourselves. It is just awful beyond imagination.

Well, no more Dubai stories and I'm back in Afghanistan now. But hope to have many new adventures to share, nothing too exciting though.

Big blog hug goes out to my Girlfriend Michelle and her son Brendan for being such loyal readers and sender of breakfast coffee, clothes for the poor, and candy for my office. But mostly, just for being who you are.

Once again, your comments/feedback are most gratefully appreciated.

Thanksgiving in Dubai

Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined spending Thanksgiving in Dubai, but there I was. Given this peculiar situation one must ask oneself: "What do I do to celebrate Thanksgiving in Dubai?" Why, go on a desert safari of course. So, booked myself on a one day desert safari tour. And, that proved just as I had imagined; lots of sand and camels. I did learn a few things on this tour that none of us will ever need to remember, but will share with you anyway.

The Bedouins (historically desert nomadic tribes found throughtout this part of the world) no longer wander but live in government subsidized housing out in the desert, at least in Dubai. They live in walled compounds, with what appear very nice single family homes all with satellite dishes. Everything appeared most clean and the houses/walls are all whitewashed. There were sheep and camels in corales outside the compound. The tour guide told me the Bedouins do not wish to live in the cities but prefer the more secluded lifestyle as did their ancestors; however, they do prefer this new less harsh lifestyle. He also told me to earn a living they tend to drill a community water well (very difficult/expensive to do here because of the sand) which they use for their subsistence but also as a valuable commodity to sell. They transport water to local communities by water trucks.

Camel farms. We did stop to visit a couple of these. Camels were roving all over the area which led me to ask our guide the obvious question: "What makes them come home?" Well, the camel ranchers(?) keep the males and many of the babies in corals which keeps the female camels coming back... I've got to go back and talk to those ladies : -}. "Where's the profit in camels these days now that they are not used as a primary mode of transportation?" Camel milk is very good for making chocolate and has a very low fat content; as it turns out camel meat is quite edible although I never saw it on any menu in Dubai; and camel hide is used for making all kinds of clothing and blankets. Observe the way the camel is looking at me in picture #3 when I'm "walking like an Egyptian." Right after one of my tour friends took that picture she reached over and gave me a kiss on the cheek. She was amazingly sweet and gentle, scared the heck out of me when she did it though.

The rest of the tour pretty much encompassed four wheel driving on the sands, stopping to observe various sand landscapes and then found some shade behind a rock for a most pleasant picnic. All in all a pretty interesting day.

Upon my return back to the hotel, I donned my bathing suit and got to the beach before sunset to get in a good swim and then back to the hotel. There, I opened up one of the bottles of wine I bought at the duty free shop in the Dubai airport and ordered room service... nice dinner salad with slices of perfectly seasoned duck breast. Sat on my glorious king sized bed after a long hot shower, ate a wonderful dinner with a most pleasant glass of good bordeaux, watched a movie on a flat screen TV and fell asleep early.

During the day, I gave thanks for all the wonderful friends and family I have in my life and for the many other bounties bestowed on me. I also thanked God I was not in Afghanistan for Thanksgiving.

Kabul to Dubai

Nothing is proving uneventful here in Afghanistan. Here's the latest unexpected experience. My traveling partner Jim and I head to the Kabul Int'l Airport arriving 4 hours early as instructed by our travel agent. After getting "felt up" by two different (1 smiled at me) female security agents (they apparently don't believe in the magnetic wands) we get to a bus which will take us to the terminal. There, two younger Afghan men make our acquaintance, speaking pretty good English, and get off at the same terminal area as Jim and I. They insist on helping us with our bags speaking with various security guards at checkpoints in route to the terminal. Once in our general terminal area (this is not designed like a US airport) they lead us to an EMPTY Afghan restaurant. There they tell Jim and I it is too early to get into the Ariana (our airline) terminal but this "international" restaurant was a safe place to wait... still no one in sight. The hair on the back of my neck is now standing but I continue to think the best. I pull out $5 and a tashakur (thank you) but did not get the response I was expecting. One of them said to me "oh no ma'am, we had to bribe your way to get into this terminal area so early before your flight so you owe us each $40". The hair on my neck was right and it's now only them and Jim and I in this deserted restaurant. I responded with a "I didn't see any money exchange hands" and Jim was just downright mad and came up with the right answer: "let me call my friend the Police Chief and ask about this". The fear immediately appeared in these guys' faces. I then pulled out my Ministry of Interior Criminal Investigations ID card to which they responded with even greater fear. They couldn't apologize and get out of there fast enough... I still gave him $5. We then quickly exited the restaurant and headed to the Ariana termain, interestingly without any problem. An afterthought: I should have taken their picture to really scare them. In the end, Jim and I believe the travel agency has a scam going with these guys.

Everything else from this point on to the road to Dubai was rather uneventful, comparatively speaking of course. After a couple of more body searches and two more scans of our bags we ultimately get into our waiting area to catch our Ariana (Afghan Airlines) flight to Dubai. The waiting area and ultimately the airplane was packed Pakistani's, Afghans, and folks of other origin I have no clue about. Needless to say, there was no organization for entry into the airplane, just a mad dash to cram into a bus which took us to our airplane which sat on the tarmac for an hour.

Let's leave it at, the smell was not particularly pleasant. But 2 1/2 hours later we were landing in Dubai. And now the rest of the story, but you will once again have to wait.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING

I'm finally taking a break from the rigors of Afghanistan departing on Tuesday afternoon and returning on Saturday late... never before spent Thanksgiving basking in the warm Persian Gulf waters. Actually, I'd rather be back in NH with friends and family on this, my favorite holiday. But if I have to be in this part of the world, The Movenpiick Hotel on Jumeirah Beach (you can Google it if you're wanting to share that experience with me) ain't a bad place to be.


I've been sharing with my Afghan friends the meaning behind Thanksgiving and they're fascinated by the similarities with many of their holidays. A time to give thanks to God for the many blessings he bestows on us and also a time to spend with family. Like us, they love to celebrate the holidays with their extended family, eating and just spending time together.

So, this will be my last blog for a week. And no, I will not take my computer so I can blog from there. But, I will take pictures and share stories upon my return.

I wish you all a most joyous and peaceful Thanksgiving. But, know that I will be giving thanks poolside with an umbrella drink in hand in an exotic land where the air and water is clean.

A New Day Upon Us

Asa and I were working on a very large translation project last week that needed a quick turnaround to help facilitate a funding proposal put together by my esteemed Afghan colleagues. The documents were quite technical even for Asa, so many of the words in the documents needed discussion so I could deduce the proper term for her; i.e., phlobotomy, ballistics. After a couple of gruelling days, I called in for translator reinforcements. The company sent two different male interpreters to help. So, the point of this blog... the pictures tell you.

Before the international community arrived here in Afghanistan, these types of activities... men and women outside of family working together... would never have occurred, and if so under the penalty of death by the Taliban. So, it was an epiphany when I looked up at Asa and these Gents working together... WOW!!!!! Not only was Asa working with a man, but the men were seeking out her help/guidance in front of others. And, when they made continual errors, Asa stepped in and chastised them for their errors. This is huge step forward for the people of Afghanistan and gives me faith the Taliban will not be allowed to return to full power even after the coalition departs.

But, then I received a disheartening insight shared by a local behaviorist. The Afghans are a naturally gentle and passive people. Given this, groups like the Taliban can come in and leverage huge influence with a just a few people, relatively speaking. He then compared the Taliban to playground bullies. It takes very few bullies to control the masses, they simply beat up a few and the others cower to them.

I'm putting my faith in the Asa's and other many wonderful Afghans I interact with on an almost daily basis. I speak with them about defiance... defying those who attempt to take away the quality of life they have learned and now relish. They listen and continually assure me the people will not allow a Taliban return, there is obvious anger in their faces when they speak of this. I've decided to err on the side of hope over cynicism.

Fashion Trend Setter

Those of you who know me personally realize how out of character it is for me to be fashion conscious. Yup, years as a poor college student followed by 25 years in the military, now greenhouse operator, did not at all contribute to any fashion sense. However, even I knew the outfits the company made us wear were just wrong. So, I changed that... now, that's something I am good at.


This picture depicts our company's newly approved women's outfit. It's a longer tunic (gotta be this general color blue) with scarf and khaki pants. One of the other ladies is pushing for authorization to wear a longer khaki skirt with boots... no skin can show when at the ministry outside of face and hands. This outfit is not only much more fashionable, but more in line with cultural sensitivities (displaying one's buttocks even under pants is innapropriate attire here) and exceedingly more comfortable.

I am buying my tunics through a lovely Afghan woman I met at the bazaar. She tailor makes them for me now so they fit my unusual body size for women in Afghanistan. She designs her own clothes and has hired a number of local women to do the sewing. Fair trade clothing!!! Needless to say, I have marketed her product with the company and she will now be the primary provider of tunics for all our company women (no clue how many but at least 10). The tunics (tailor made with beautiful and varied materials with complex embroidery) run for $25 and the company will reimburse for four. This should prove a great boost for her independent small business. The problem since I've worked this all out is that she left for her Hajj (obligatory religious trip for Muslims of means to go to Mecca, Saudi Arabia) and gone for 45 days.


Please note the pictures in the background. Ann's grandkids are becoming famous here (of course all believe they are my grandchildren but that's a different story for another time) as well as postcards and art work from other family members. Okay, let's be real it's really all about the candy dish which many of you have contributed to of late... thank you all.

Another push for some type of breakfast foods... I understand banana bread will ship. Homemade cookies (especially peanut butter) would also be appreciated. Our breakfast club gatherings are growing.

As always, your comments are greatly anticipated/appreciated by me and really contribute to the content of the blogs. So, please comment as you feel moved.

My New Digs

I thought pictures were worth a thousand words... my new office on the international military base. The first pictures shows the grand entryway leading up to the glorious wood panel door. Then, there's the view from afar, ensconsed in most scenic barbed wire on outriggers and satellite dishes that hum incessantly. And finally, our interior... my friend Michelle Sullivan would have a grand time decorating this interior and Kt would find some way to make the furniture look more appealing. As for us, it works and gets warm by noon now that winter is upon us.

Actually, we're now down to two people working in this grand office. My friend Scott, the Fireman Advisor, moved on to a new position here in Afghanistan as did his interpreter. Rick's (the counterterrorism advisor) interpreter is now working almost exclusively out of the Ministry as is Asa. So, it's just Rick and I and we're rarely there except for Big Ead week. 2nd day and we haven't killed each other yet.

Eid Mubarak (Happy Eid)

BIG EID

Well, this is my second reporting of Eid within the last 1 month and 10 days. I asked about the significance of this Eid and was much surprised by the significance of this four day celebration. It is a celebration of God's test of faith of Abraham.

Background, Gail's version, from the Old Testament (Christian Bible). Abraham and Sara had a a child named Isaac very late in their lives, a true blessing from God. One day when Isaac was still a lad, God ordered Abraham to build a sacrificial alter and sacrifice Isaac to Him, the almighty God. Abraham, while heartbroken (I can't even imagine the state of Sara), dutifully obeyed God's wish building an alter and prepared to sacrifice his much beloved and only child. Just before Abraham sacrificed Isaac, an angel came down and stopped him telling him God was only testing his faith and he had obviously passed. In response, Abraham with great joy sacrificed a young cow and I believe a lamb in honor of his God. Sorry if this is not totally accurate... you get the point though.

So, Big Eid is a Muslim celebration which honors Abraham's great faith to his God and God's favor upon Abraham by saving Isaac. To celebrate, every family slaughters an animal (usually a lamb/sheep), keeps 1/3 for the immediate family, presents 1/3 to friends/family, and provides 1/3 to the poor. Now, why this takes 4 days is beyond me and of course the holiday starts on a Monday which means four days later is Friday, their standard day off.

As for me, the Ministry is closed down for five days and I'm stuck on the international military installation. Today, Monday, I went and got a pedicure and eyebrow job... not that horrible torture string but they're not into the hot wax so pretty much just plucked the heck out of me. Yes, I also worked catching up on many of my flagrant administrative oversights and started a significant project for presentation to my Director when he returns from holiday... only 3 more days to go.

MY FRIDAYS

FRIDAY MORNING COFFEE CLUB

HARRY on the left: Puerto Rican Jewish guy who's nuclear family now lives on an island just outside Seattle, WA. Wife, two childrern. He is a retired US Army Lieutenant Colonel and here in Afghanistan he mentors on transportation of supplies/equipment for the national police. He was awarded THREE Purple Hearts during his military career... truly a national hero. Note: USAF cup in his hand, present from me to rub it in about the USAF. Humor is tough to come by here.

KELLY on the right: Has a home in South Carolina where his wife and son live, his daughter is married and off on her own. His son was severely wounded in Iraq as a soldier and now significantly handicapped but progressing well. Kelly's Dad was career Air Force, so he was raised all over. He joined the US Army at a young age and retired as a Command Sergeant Major (highest enlisted rank in the Army) and here serves as an advisor on enlisted personnel matters.

QC not here: Took the picture. QC and his wife Apple live on Lake Martin outside Montgomery Alabama. QC is a retired Lieutenant Colonel in the USAF. Here, he is a mentor to the National Police Academy

History of Friday Mornings: I do not have washers/dryers in the Grant House where I live and am supposed to do laundry in the connex down the road. However, I'm just not at all comfortable walking back and forth with all the security guards watching/cackling and there is definitely no place comfortable inside the connex. So, one of the guys in the Conn House invited me to use theirs which I started doing. As an aside, I do have a "laundry guy" that works in the house during the day along with a cleaning guy. But, I'm just not comfortable with the way he washes/dries especially my "delicates" and the fact his hands alway appears dirty and he folds the clothes on the dirty floor. Given these factors, I do my own thank you.

Back to my story. So, I started meandering over to the Conn House early on Friday mornings before anyone else occupied the laundry facilities, bringing a book or postcards to write off to you. Well, all of this takes a couple of hours and my coffee "low light" was coming on every week... not good for others around me. Then one day I wandered upstairs in the house where to my great joy I found a pot of coffee made and no one around... I stole, yes my friends, STOLE. Well that did not bode well for me, so the following week I brought over some coffee to more than adequately replace the previous weeks. This time I got busted!! Well, the gents up there welcomed me with open arms and my dreaded laundry drag has evolved in a much anticipated weekly gathering to discuss political, social, and Afghan development topics. The coffee has gotten better too with the support of friends like Michelle who's been keeping me in the "good stuff". Other friends/friends family have provided a wonderful supply of quality peanut butter and some jellies which I now serve on some really good bread I abscond from the European dining facility on Thursday nights. Oh ya, some crandberries supplied by my friend Kt. Nothing real exciting, but those Friday mornings are now becoming an event I look forward to every week. Any donations of mailable breakfast food for this gathering would be greatly appreciated by our coffee club.

OFF TO THE BAZAAR

Sorry, you'll have to wait til next week for the bazaar story... this is my bazaar club.

Death in Afghanistan

I was meandering on the outskirts of Kabul when we came upon this cemetary. For some strange reason the concept of cemetaries in Afghanistan just never occurred to me despite the fact I'm continually surrounded by death. I would have liked to have gotten up closer to take better pictures but that was just not an option in this neighborhood so I hope you all understand. NOTE: I believe the 3 men alongside the truck filled with stones in the 2nd picture are the burial crew.

So, I asked Asa what the traditions were when someone died and here's what she told me:

When a person dies, usually at home, the family hand carries the the body to a "special place". At that place, the body is stripped of all clothes and thoroughly cleaned. The special person in the special place then completely wraps the body in white cloth ensuring the eyes and mouth are permanently closed (for some reason she emphasized this point). The family returns later to retrieve the body and carries it to the Mosque where there is a funeral type ceremony and friends/family grieve. From there the body is taken to the cemetary on some type of makeshift stretcher by male members of the family, no casket, placed in the ground and buried in "dirt". This all normally occurs within 24 hours of the death, so I assume there is no embalming in Afghanistan. After 7, 30 and 40 days (don't hold me to those specific numbers) there are more religious ceremonies honoring the dead person in either a family member's home or the Mosque. At the conclusion of 40 days, all mourning is over and the person is no longer in their lives. An interesting concept but given the short life expectancy here, it makes a lot of sense... no one would ever be happy. I did ask if the stones (actually, rocks) were marked with the persons name and she confirmed that yes, someone writes the name on the stone but it is not engraved. And, it is not customary for the family to visit the grave site after the 40 day period.

I then asked if they believed the person had a soul that passed after death. Yes, when the person dies they are taken by two angels to some type of middle ground (she gave me a name, but I forget) to remain until The Final Day. On this day, God determines if they go to heaven or hell... both locations are now vacant. So, what happens to the soul in this middle ground? Well, that depends on how solemn they lived their lives. If they lived a relatively sinless life, no one lives a sinless life according to Asa, the living(?) conditions for the soul are good. If they lived a sin filled life (and that doesn't take much in the Muslim faith), they are punished throughout this middle group period. I'm obviously not Muslim, but I've decided to be less sinful just in case ;-}.

Obviously, this is a Reader's Digest version of their beliefs and practices but it's factual. And, unlike weddings, funerals are cheap. I tried to explain the concept of the Irish wake to Asa but it was beyond her comprehension.

Much peace and joy to you all.

Winter is Coming!

Once out of central Kabul I have discovered there are cords of wood stashed in the poorest sections of the "suburbs". Needless to say, I've yet to see wood stacked like we do back home. Indeed, it's just piled high like you see in the picture. Turns out firewood is a most valued commodity here in Afghanistan.

Out in the suburbs, the Afghans both heat and cook with wood which to me makes sense given the total lack of utilities I've observed out there. As a result of the high demand for wood in a country with limited rainfall many of the natural forests have been stripped away over the last 30 years or so (constant war) resulting in significant erosion, desert conditions in areas once bountiful, and now a shortage of firewood to keep people fed and warm. I've been told this causes significant stress amongst the poor as the winter season draws on, causing thefts (people need to keep their children warm and fed) and consequently significant violence. Inside Kabul where I live, the electricity is pretty consistent which generates our heat source. Of course it goes out on occasion, but I have plenty of beddings to deal with it. Once again, I'm blessed even here in Afghanistan.

In response, the international community is working with the Afghan government to restore many of the historic forests but needless to say that will take years. As always, I remain hopeful but not confident this important environmental project will generate results even years out.

A few updates: The "clean" bathroom at the Ministry is available again!!!!! Unfortunately, I was evicted from my office at the international base and moved to a 2nd story "can" along the base perimeter... no bathrooms within easy walking distance. Many of our supply convoys coming through Pakistan are not getting through which is really cutting short many of our "nice to have things." No soymilk anymore. The military convenience store (PX) is rather bare too... tissues and NyQuil are hot commodities as is candy (my bowl at the ministry is getting thin). Fortunately, I have friends who've hooked me up with the tissues and NyQuil ... please do not send either... and my sister Karen sent some Halloween candy recently. Asa is now the #1 law student at her private university in Kabul... of 400 students.

That's all for now folks. Fortunately the internet is being kind to me so I will try to continue to send you stories.

FIRST RECEPTION IN AFGHANISTAN

I attended my first reception here in Afghanistan last week, very pleasant. In the picture you will see the two Directors I am fortunate enough to mentor, both very high powerful officials in the Afghan national police. The gentleman on the far right is another, but I do not mentor him.

The event was hosted by the European Police Headquarters staff for the Afghan specialized police, their visiting European Union delegation from Brussels, and a few other people of influence all working in a cooperative effort to help return rule of law and safety for the wonderful people of Afghanistan.

Interestingly, there was an open bar (Muslims and all) but it was a European sponsored event. After the initial meet and greet, a wonderful buffet of Afghan and European foods was presented and dinner was served. During the dinner I had a wonderful opportunity to mix with just an amazing group of people, just socializing. At the conclusion of dining, informal festivities were held to recognize both the European delegation and our Afghan counterparts with token gifts exchanged. A most civilized evening.

Big blog hug goes out to our newest family member, Gabriel who I'm told is most healthy and beautiful. Okay, hugs for Joey, Steph and Maddie too.

A MOST INTERESTING DAY PART II

Above is a picture of the Director and obviously me on our outing... as it turns out the Director's executive officer did have a camera and took a picture of us at Qarga.

So, there I was leaving Qarga along with the Director, his driver and executive assistant returning to what I believed was the Ministry. Wrong YET AGAIN! In route, the Director told me in his broken English "We will go to my home for lunch"... he didn't ask. Off to yet another new adventure into a world I had no knowledge. Once again, the Director was on his phone, the two up front were chatting away, and I returned to my sense of awe at what I was seeing. At some point he looked up and started to speak with me again. During our conversation I discovered he had 9, yes 9, children with his only wife (remember they are allowed up to 4 in Afghanistan). He also related that his wife was out of town so she would not be there to meet us. Yes, I'll admit to being nervous once again but put my trust in God and my gut that told me he was a good man.

We ultimately arrived to the Director's home, which as it turns out is quite close to the US Embasssy. Not what I had in mind. On the exterior, it was a very modest apartment complex even under Afghan standards, Soviet style grey cinder block and about five stories. The two aides stayed outside in a security shack while we proceeded into the complex and climbed up five stories... the Director was obviously proud as he told me at least three times "this is my home". We ultimately got to his front door and then a most unexpected thing happened when we walked into his home (building suspense with long pause here; wait, wait).

Very soon after entering the home, a two year old comes running up yelling what I assume is "Daddy, Daddy" in Dari to the Director and throws her body into his open arms with him scooping her up so they can exchange kisses... my heart melted and immediately felt at ease. The second daughter, I'm guessing about 17, welcomed me to her home with grace and in English, and showed me into what I believe is the family den/living room. Soon what I guess is a 9 year old beautiful girl and a 7 year old boy enter into the scene.... they were openly curious and the 9 year old girl held my hand to show me to my seat. Seat being an operative word.

The den I was led into had no furniture outside of an old box style TV with rabbit ears on a basic TV stand. The room was about 10' x 20' with simple red oriental style carpets (nothing expensive) completely covering the floor... the room was was freshly painted in a pastel pink shade with very "festive" lace curtains covering the windows at the front of the room. Along the sides of the room were overstuffed pillows matching the decor. The Director took his seat on the floor with TV remote in hand and two year old in lap, with me and the 9 year old girl, Tamerone (or something close) across from them. Soon the 17 year old brought in some chai (tea) and a plate of nuts and dried fruit... very traditional. I'm thinking now, this is a most pleasant lunch. So, there we were sitting and enjoying the TV shows (all in Dari of course) and what I thought was lunch for about 30 minutes.

Knock on the door and it's the in-laws, brother and father. The brother was dressed in western style clothing and haircut, close shave to match. The father was traditionally attired in what we tacky Americans call Man Jama's (tunic style loose top and baggy pants... cotton, not flannel) very clean and well pressed with hat to match. He had a traditional Aghan distinguished haircut and a very well trimmed beard, impeccably groomed. I am introduced to both who were most friendly and I believe surprised to find me in the house. They disappear along with the Director and I return to my seat to continue watching TV and drinking chai.

Another knock at the front door and the Director closes the door to the den and I hear him answer the front door. No clue what's going on. The 17 year old then enters back into the den for a table cloth stored in the built in china cabinet. Soon the Director enters to collect plates and silverware assuring me all is well. Now, I haven't been to the bathroom in a very long time and have had lots of tea so I wander out of the den... the Director was astute enough to point me to the bathroom. He can be gracious. A most interesting bathroom... it's about 5' x 10' and includes a sink (with too many toothbrushes to count in a single cup), western style toilet, some bizarre looking washing machine and a shower head mounted on the wall in the corner... no shower curtain or any other separation. Now remember, this is a family with 9 children. So, I complete my deed and head back to the den... Tamerone is waiting for me.

I return to watching TV and drinking chai. I am then invited into the "dining room". This is a matching room to the den only no TV and the walls are a pastel peach color. There in the center of the room is the table cloth on the floor, plates/silverware distributed along the edges and an amazing array of food in the center... they had obviously ordered takeout. I am invited to sit at the head of the room, everyone else is already seated. The food: First layer on the floor is a flat bread that has to be, no lie, about 4' x 2'. On top of the bread is an array of kabobs (that's what they call barbequed meat) "sheep" with bone, grilled chicken, and fish; Afghan style salad and a beautiful bowl of fresh fruit. Then in front of each place setting is a bowl of steaming hot soup. I start with the soup, no clue what it was just know it was delicious. I then dig into the fish, chicken and sheep... all seasoned differently and to die for. I avoid the raw salad (typhoid and all). They keep putting more on my plate and all seven of us are speaking openly with each other... me not so much as I don't speak Dari. However, they went out of their way to include me. It was just a wonderful event and I was now quite full.

The Director suddenly announces it is time to go, we've now been in his home over two hours. I'm rushing to the front door to put my shoes back on and render my thanks and goodbyes to all. Then, as if they were not generous enough the 17 year old comes up and presents me with what I think is a most beautiful traditional Afghan necklace, placing it around my neck. She then thanks me... yes, she's thanking me... for sharing her home with the family. I'm speechless, overcome with emotion. The Director then leads me out and we most casually jump back into the SUV and return to the Ministry where we part ways. END of STORY

Sorry, this was a long one and it's been a challenge to get published given the intermittent internet connection back at the safehouse. But, promise some more cool experiences coming your way soon and this time it includes pictures!!!

A Most Interesting Day Part 1

I thought I'd share with you my most interesting day, a very unexpected day with no dangers but wonderful experiences. Unfortunately, I did not have my camera so was not able to capture anything on film.

So, there I was sitting in my office editing some recently translated and important documents when the Afghan Director of Criminal Investigations walked into my office with his executive officer asking me to join him for a meeting on training and walked out. I grabbed my portfolio and scarf and proceeded out to his office... he's not there. His chai (tea) boy pointed at the closed circuit TV to show me the Director was outside the building so I headed out believing the training brief was in an alternative office. Wrong again, into the Director's armored SUV I went not having any clue where. And, I left my temporary interpreter in the office working on some documents so I was on my own. The Director then told me in his broken but most legible English that we were going to the Afghan National Police Academy just outside Kabul. Whew!

After an interesting drive out to the Academy through previously unseen Kabul streets, we arrived to a good degree of pomp and proceeded to a training room with a large Afghan and coaltion contingent. From what I could understand, they were holding a seminar to discuss some specialized training and had invited my Director to open the meeting up. I wish they'd consulted with me before inviting him... the Director tends to pontificate for extended time if not given time limits and scope. So, after an hour he concluded his remarks and we abruptly left.

I'm now thinking we'll be heading back to the Ministry... wrong yet again! The Director instructed our driver to go right in lieu of left (Kabul) and I'm thinking this is not good. Okay, so what did I do to make him mad enough to take me out to the hinterlands to kill me (I'm kidding Ma)? As I'm going through options in my mind, he tells me we were going to Qarga, a beautiful part of Afghanistan. Well then, on to yet another new adventure. We traveled down a relatively well maintained two lane road which was bustling with all kinds of activities. First there were a couple of "major" universities with students milling around. Then came a long series of roadside stores (shacks) selling all sorts of wares... hanging animal carcases, fruits, veggies, clothing, shoes, chopped wood for fire/heat, drink stores (no alcohol), tires, car repair, hoses, restaurants, a plethora of stuff for miles. The people were obviously horribly poor. Then came what I can only describe as refugee camps, actually internally displaced (all Afghan). Acres and acres of small tents all connected together with small children playing/bathing in what appeared sewers. Oh, and herds of goats along the roadway... it appears this is their trash collection methodology.

So, we're driving along with the executive officer talking to the driver, the Director on his cell phone, and me oohing and aahing. The Director then pointed out with great pride Afghanistan's only golf course to the right, THE KABUL COUNTRY CLUB. For the life of me I could not see the course, and he kept pointing saying "there, there"... then I saw one of the "greens". A well manicured circle of dirt with a PVC pipe stuck in a hole with basically a rag tied to the top. Once I vectored in on the green I could see the rutted and grassless fairways and then other greens... there was not a blade of grass or level piece of ground to be seen. Oh ya, didn't see any golfers either. There was howevever a very nice Clubhouse which the director said had a "very good" restaurant.

Beyond the golf course appeared what I believed was a damn, and d... if I wasn't right. This is the area the Director brought me to see, Qarga. When we came to the peak of the damn I see a beautiful (remember, I'm in Afghanistan) panoramic view of about a one square mile resevoir. Along the sides of the water are boats and even swan paddle boats just like the ones found in the Boston Common. I asked the Director if people swim in the water and he adamantly states "Of course, this is modern Afghanistan the Taliban are gone!" So there you have it folks, the Afghans swim... I'll have to speak with Asa and ask how that's done between men and women.

We then drive to the end of the road to a private resort area, very nice for Afghanistan, and get out of the armored SUV to walk around and view the scenary. The Director had his Executive Officer take a picture which I hope to obtain from him one of these days soon. He then abruptly said, "we go now" and back into the vehicle we went. I now assume we're heading back to the Ministry... wrong again. But, will share that with you in the next blog. It's a fascinating story but you'll have to wait.

Busy, busy, busy these days so sorry the blogs are coming less frequently.

Pets in Afghanistan

Now I'm told the Afghans do not keep pets and they definitely do not bring animals into their homes. Yet I'm finding the "strays" here, both cats and dogs, far from what we would consider ferial. They are friendly and desire not only food but affection.

My colleague Rick (in the 2nd picture) carries packages of beef jerky for his walk to and from work every day so he can give treats to what appear to be stray "doggies"... it seems the highlight of his day. He also draws a group of Afghans every time who thoroughly enjoy the affection he gives this "pack" of dogs and they want to participate. Interestingly, the dogs are very fearful of the Afghans especially the kids. I'm told they are quite abusive to the animals, which I just don't comprehend.

Then there are the armies of stray cats which are all around. We are instructed not to feed them because if they're hungry they'll eat the rodents, snakes and many of the bugs... they are our exterminators. My buddy John, a resident of our safehouse, has his Tally. I always know when John gets home because Tally is yelling at him to feed him, begs like a dog. Beth and Kathy across the alleyway have Calli, an infinitely pregnant female cat whom they feed twice daily but according to them only because she's pregnant. She is no longer pregnant but now has the kittens so the feeding continues. When I go to the US Embassy they have bowls of food and water out for "their" cats with some even providing cat houses. Even the Nepalese (Gurka) guards have their pet stray cats... you should see these burly guys talking and playing with the many kittens that hang out at the security posts ...it's a riot. Needless to say, the "no feed order" is not adhered to. Americans, we never do as we're instructed; of course, I think that's what makes us so great.

Now I do see local venders selling bird cages with canaries, so assume these are house pets. I'll have to ask Asa about that, but she's taking a few vacation days to study for her university exams so I'll have to get back to you on this one.

Big Blog Hug goes out to the Fredericks Family... thank you for the beautiful hand drawn pictures for me and the bountiful school supplies for the local orphanage. The kids and teachers will be thrilled with this gift which I hope to get to them soon.

Too Close for Comfort

Okay, so if you go back to the last blog and read about my adventurous ride home the other day with the emergency response vehicles, this new one definitely put that into perspective. I could have used one of these "Rings of Steel" (look close at the lettering on the barrier)

So there I was (again) heading home after a relatively long day at the Ministry... just me and my good buddy Rob and of course our Afghan driver. We were happily chatting away about our day in the back of the van when we approached one of those dreaded traffic circles... I'm quickly learning to despise Afghan traffic circles. As we came closer, we noticed a civilian suddenly get out his vehicle for no apparent reason and just cold cock (punch) the uniformed policeman manning a security gate. Sadly, my first reaction was joy that it wasn't one of those poor traffic cops. Well, this civilian was obviously most angry and continued to punch the policeman with great violence. To his credit, the Cop recovered quickly and proceeded to fight back just as violently while attempting to grab for the automatic weapon (machine gun) on his shoulder. Now more civilians have gotten into the mix with lots of cops running in the direction... we're only about 25 feet away from this altercation. So, the original cop is now furiously grabbing for his weapon as the crowd size increases, some participating. All I can think is that I do not want to be collateral damage (hit by stray bullet). But I rapidly realize I have nowhere to take cover except behind Rob who has now turned his back to the fight in an attempt to enter into a state of denial... retired Naval helicopter pilot, so what can we expect?

My new prowess in squealling came into play once again when I "instructed" the driver to "get us the hell out of here"! After taking cover behind Rob (a large man), I noted the driver was watching this growing altercation with great entertainment... not my idea of fun. Needless to say, the squeal got his attention and he quickly maneuvered an escape route out of the danger zone. I have no idea what started or ended the fight, and honestly don't care. Too much anger on both sides and waaay too many apparent guns on the side of the very young policemen on scene; odds are that many of the civilians were packing too.

After we were walking into our safe area, Rob did note that I used his body as "cover" and found that most entertaining. He told me he was just glad I didn't pull him to the floor on top of me for better protection. Of course I'm thinking... "Darn, I should have thought of that!"

REQUEST FROM READERS: I was talking to one of our medics the other day and he advised I take Pepto Bismal in capsule form before eating Afghan food. I'm finding myself eating more food out of necessity because of my long hours at the Ministry. Don't worry, Asa only gets me food from "legitimate" restaurants but the threat of typhoid is still high. Unfortunately, I cannot find any Pepto Bismal capsules here or anywhere else, only the liquid form. So, please let me know if one of you out there can send some to me and I'll let the rest know so I'm not drowning in Pepto.

SAD NEWS: I no longer have access to my clean bathroom, the guy who owns it had locked it because too many people were coming to use this clean bathroom. A most sad occurence in my life here in Afghanistan. Truly, the fight was nothing compared to this. I'd send pictures but it's just too gross to put out in public.

Big blog hug goes out to my beautiful niece Rachel for her feedback on the car thieves/hijackers... definitely go with the $100 in $1 bills and yell FIRE ( in Dari of course). Great idea... although 100 $1 bills is pretty bulky in my pocket.

EMERGENCY RESPONSE

The term Emergency Response must be put into perspective here in Kabul. Here's my story and I have any number of witnesses who can confirm the facts.

So there we were leaving the Ministry to head back to our international compound during peak traffic hours, with traffic at a turtle's pace. Suddenly our driver takes an alternative turn telling us he knew a better route... big mistake for all of us and unfortunately I was sitting shotgun. Needless to say, traffic flow on this route was even worse... I guess everybody had the same idea. Suddenly one of those poor traffic cops I always feel bad for, is just swinging his little wand furiously and blowing his whistle till I thought he'd implode. Then we heard the alarms behind us with no maneuver room for anyone than the traffic cop who's running around trying to get people to do the impossible. Ultimately, the fire truck did inch forward and our driver somehow maneuvered to get right behind it... I'm confident now the guy learned to drive in Boston.

My heart rate is now far exceeding its maximum cardio levels, I've said a number of Our Fathers and many more Hail Marys. Then, we (fire truck and our vehicle) get to the dreaded TRAFFIC CIRLCE with bikes, motorcycles, donkey carts, pedestrians, etc. all mixed into the fold. I saw a car hit a bicyclist who proceeded to get up (thankfully) and then attempt to pull the driver out of the vehicle. The Traffic Cop must now deal with the fire truck and a very aggravated cyclist... wand flying even faster, whistle louder. I continue my prayers. Fire truck is not moving so uses every siren in his portfolio at maximum volume... I wanted to choke the guy. Wait, it gets better and this is no lie. An ambulance is now attempting to enter into the traffic circle at the opposite end. I'm now thinking I'm going to have a heart attack and just want to climb into the back of the vehicle so I see less. Realizing this just ain't going to happen, I pesevere and focus on the traffic cop who I really think is going to have a heart attack. I've got to start carrying my rosary beads on these trips.

In the end, we all finally made it through the traffic circle... us, ambulance, fire truck. Not sure if the ambulance slowed to picked up the driver who hit the bicyclist. It took till I arrived my office to get my heart rate down. I was in desperate need of a drink... but that's not going to happen either.

Just another commuter day... not.

My Other Office EDITED

I promised and here it is. These are pictures of my office at the Ministry. Asa's so thrilled to be out of that cramped office with all those guys (see earlier blog). And, getting to the ministry is much quicker and easier on her. She's taken possession of this office, making sure the cleaning guys clean it often (that would be the nice man in the picture, then I give tip), she's rearranged the furniture, had me buy a room freshner, and just made it an all around nicer place to be. Of course this must all be put into perspective as we're in a underdeveloped country.

You'll also note the picture of my wonderful grand nieces and nephews on the wall. The Afghans are fascinated with the concept of putting pictures of your family in the office... it's not done here. I'm guessing government officials have gotten into the habit of keeping the names/faces of their families a secret for security reasons. Sorry kids. When looking at this picture, they're convinced the kids are Afghan (except for blonde Maddy). Anyway, we also keep a bowl of candy in the office (tootsie rolls/pops) which is a big draw. Finally, I leave the office door open (something they also find peculiar) to serve as an invitation to walk in. My intent is to pull (not literally) people into my office to talk, a great means of collecting insider information. To date, I've learned it's all about the chocolate but I'll give it a while longer till I'm convinced they're just coming to see Miss Gail because she is so very nice :-}

Work has become most demanding of late. It's the annual time of year when we work with our Afghan colleagues to submit changes in organizational structures/operations which drive personnel, equipment, facilities and budget increases. The challenge is the process developed by the Americans, a process which must be followed in order to justify additional resources, but its just not a good fit with Afghan logic. I'm finding their logic so very different than ours, while also most insightful. Here's how it's working so far: the Afghans think because they really want the extra resources to fight crime, they should have everything they ask for. Of course the bills are paid by the international (primarily US) community, who must justify this increase in their budgets with definitive justification. I'm trying hard to get them to comply, but it's a challenge. The European Police (EUPOL) guys are coming into the ministry today to help me drive Afghan compliance to the required process, but I'm not holding out any great hope. If we fail, the Afghans will brief their program and it will not be supported by the international community... after yesterday's long discussion, they seem amenable to that outcome (no support). I'm using every skill I have in my little imaginary bag to juxtapose Afghan perceived requirements with fiscal responsibility. I'll let you know how it does.

OKAY, DID A FEW MOST NEEDED GRAMMATICAL/CONTENT EDITS. BUT I FORGOT TO SHARE WITH YOU THE MOST IMPORTANT FACT ABOUT THE MINISTRY OFFICE... dramatical pause .... I FOUND AN ALMOST CLEAN, OKAY TOLERABLE, BATHROOM!!!! Now that I'm spending most of my day over there, this is a godsend and I'm sure will contribute significantly to my long term health.

Out Cruising

Sorry about the blog void but I do have a small excuse... the internet was down for a couple of days, really. And today, I'm running late for an early morning so this one will be short

I was out "cruising" on my day off and got my friend Al to take this picture of me behind a rose bush. Keilah, please note that I'm wearing the earrings you made and sent me. Behind me is General Petreaus', Commander of all US and International Forces in Afghanistan, HQs building. The grounds around this building are just beautiful with a "Rose Garden" in front where people can sit and talk over coffee, BBQ grills for functions, and just an all around nice setting. Unfortunately I doubt he ever gets the time to even enjoy these settings... he's an awful busy guy.

My work is also becoming more intriguing and is bringing a greater sense of meaning for me. Busy is good, it makes the time go faster but cutting into my evening workout program... priorities. Details will have to wait for another blog as I have to head out now.

Hugs for all readers.

Karzai and Kids

I took this picture of Afghan President Karzai in my travels... it's a huge poster attached to a non descript building. I thought it depicted the spirit of the Afghan people.

Asa came into work the other day and just had to share her joy about her President. She told me he had been on television the night before and cried before his people about the poor education system in Afghanistan. She was obviously deeply touched by both his open display of emotion as well as his words. Unfortunately, I do not have education statistics to share with you, but know the educational system in this country is abysmal. Destroying this critical national program was probably the Taliban's greatest success. And unfortunately, the Taliban continue in their campaign to keep the Afghan people ignorant and those who are educated, controlled under the threat of death. One thing I am starting to observe here is that too many of the well educated Afghans are emigrating/escaping out for a better future for themselves and their children.

Thanks to my sister Mauria and friend Judy for their wise insights into my $100 escape/evade plan. Unfortunately Mauria, I'm not convinced the airless/flatless tires for our many company vehicles is a good option. And Judy, no I do not carry a gun and even if allowed, I would not. The seagull analogy was quite insightful though and will be taken into consideration.

New Meaning to Bad Traffic

Hey, I just noticed that if you look in the rear view mirror you can see me taking a picture of the bad traffic... cool.

Anyway, traffic to and from the Ministry of late seems to have gotten a lot worse. Given the many local entrepeneurs around Kabul, they've devised an ingenious new career opportunity. One guy casually walks up to the side of your vehicle and uses an ice pick to puncture your tire. That is, if you look like you have something of value which Americans or international folks tend to do. So, the tire puncturing guy's buddies wait down the road a few yards, now remember the traffic is at a standstill, and await their prey... visualize hunters in a deer stand. After traveling those few yards, the driver of the vehicle (usually Afghan) gets out of the vehicle to check what appears to be a flat tire. In the meantime, the buddies force their way into the vehicle and rapidly steal anything of value in sight (they also know all our hiding spaces)... computers and tools seem to be their favorite although briefcases are also a lucrative target. This actually happened to a couple of buddies of mine... scared the livin' .... out of them to say the least. Our USEmbassy warns that kidnapping is also a threat, especially if nothing of value is readily available.


I've now analyzed this threat and have a counterattack, yup all that USAF training is finally coming in handy. So here's the plan: I keep at least $100 dollars at the ready so if we do run into these guys I plan to throw it in the air and squeal (I know how to squeal now that I've experienced an Afghan eyebrow job) FREE AMERICAN DOLLARS!!!!! I'm hoping they'll prefer the dollars over me. Comments or further guidance from anyone is most welcome.


I've been very busy lately on a number of projects so I have found writing part of the blog in the evening is shaving some time off my morning routine. I think it's working, but now tired and have to go to bed. I'll edit and send in the morning. It's now morning, I'm editing and sending.


An extra big blog hug out to my Hebert Family who recently lost their beloved Little Andy in a most tragic incident. Know my heart is with you in this most sad of time.

Working Conditions

What you see is literally the size of our shared office at the international community base. Labor laws would outlaw these conditions in the states :-} and Asa wasn't there that day which just adds to the joy. This tiny office in the "Minuteman House" house includes office mates Rick and Scott as well as their interpretors... we call ourselves THE MINUTEMEN which drives the boss crazy but we have a lot of fun with it. As you can see from my position in the back, it's not fun if I need to step out of the office as all must adjust positions. And at times, we're all cramming on projects so movement by one causes aggravation by all. And then there are the office meetings when Rick or Scott have somebody stop by to discuss an issue... it just ain't pretty. But, we do tend to have fun and I learn a whole lot from all these guys.

Fortunately for me, my wonderful sister Mauria recently sent me an IPod loaded with all my classical music which I use as white noise when cramming on a staff paper. It helps tremendously.

Then there's my office in the Afghan Ministry... much more spacious and comfortable. Big drawback is the incredibly gross bathrooms which become necessary but only under extreme conditions. Another blog on that another day.

hi ho hi ho, it's off ...