Living in the Stan

March Madness

2009-04-05T00:26:00.000-07:00

The NCAA tournament is one of my favorite times of the year. For three weeks every March/April, supply exceeds my demand for sports TV. Despite pre-season projections that my Illini wouldn’t make this year’s tournament, they earned their trip and seemed ready to demonstrate to their skeptics that their 5-seed wasn’t a fluke. Watching from Kabul through a webcam aimed at my family’s TV in Illinois (at the convenient tip-off time of 6:30am Afghan time), I quickly learned that they were in store for an early exit. Good thing White Sox opening day is right around the corner…

Unlike my Alma Mater, I’m moving on from my “first round match-up” here in Afghanistan, with a more challenging opponent awaiting me. Round 1—my first six months on the ground—tested whether I could thrive as an expat in Afghanistan. It brought the challenge of adjusting to a new life of cross-cultural communication, cold showers, and curfews. It forced me to defer to a culture foreign to anything to which I’ve ever been exposed. How do I know that I’ve won? When I returned to Kabul in January, post-China, I was no longer wondering if I could make it here. At some point during the winter I had determined that I simply would make it here.

Round 2 has moved from the home to the office. ”Can I live here” has been replaced by “Can I make a difference here?” For the first time in my career, I’m in a management role focused on strategy more than the day-to-day tasks. I’m learning to apply my Wall Street work ethic, management style, and drive…without causing panic attacks in my staff. I’m working daily with people for whom English is a second language and learning to be patient with people who don’t understand me (and to call out superficial head nodding). At the same time, HFL (Hope’s partner here) is uncovering its largest fraud scheme faced to date. The scheme is simple. Normally, loan officers look to community leaders to help form groups of clients who each take out loans to start businesses while guaranteeing each other’s repayments. In this scheme, however, the groups consist of “ghost clients” who have no intention of starting businesses, but instead collect loan disbursements and hand the money off to the group leaders (most likely with a kickback). The end result is a select few individuals with big (and risky) loans instead of a group of individuals with small loans. In our case, we’ve determined that six female “ring leaders” have each formed several ghost groups who have all replicated the scheme. Where do we currently stand? Over 100 ghost clients and a dangerous percentage of our portfolio at risk.

We need to send a message that defrauding our company will simply not be tolerated. But in a country where corruption rules over justice and impunity is assumed, how do we do this? We could attempt to have each of the women arrested and prosecuted, but in doing so we would run the risk of the ring leaders bribing the police and the police turning against our lawyer and loan officers…accusing them of being the real architects of the scheme. Not to mention that people in prison usually don’t pay off loans. We could consolidate the loans and treat them as individual loans of the ring leaders, but in doing so these women essentially go unpunished, sending a message that we have little to no power to do anything should our clients defraud us. We could simply announce to their families, friends, and neighbors exactly what these women have done and use social pressure to force repayment. In a culture where people will do virtually anything to maintain honor (often dishonorable things), this may be the best option…though it could force the women to flee, which we are powerless to prevent. None of these options are ideal – each has its holes. Bernie Madoff scammed from investors and went to jail. Our clients scam from our company and get restructured loans or a free pass. That is unfortunately life in Afghanistan at the moment.

My challenge, then, is to understand this context and to pursue solutions that are a compromise between what’s objectively right and what will actually work. I’ve grown up in a system in which there are feedback mechanisms in place to deliver justice. We have collection agencies and credit bureaus. We have the police. We have courts. We have a government that will implement and enforce laws that protect us. In Afghanistan, corruption and weak social infrastructure mean that we don’t have such safety nets. We must be creative to operate here...and at the same time come to terms with the fact that sometimes justice doesn’t win. How do we do this? How do we fight for principle, for our portfolio, and for the HFL staff against a system where power trumps rules? How do we keep in mind the practical reality that success will probably require compromise? This is Round 2.

I’m not the only one in this game—the expat community in Kabul is also experiencing first-hand its vulnerability to corruption. Back in 1959, as a gesture of goodwill, President Eisenhower and Afghanistan’s King Zahir Shaw came to an agreement in which the US would build a mosque in Washington DC in exchange for allowing the first and only recognized church in Afghanistan to be built in Kabul. The agreement brought outrage from religious leaders across the country, and after a political coup in 1973, the new government gave into the protest. The church board chair was exiled, the church was leveled, and the board was left with nothing but the plot of land. A small house on that land has been serving as the church ever since…until recently.

Now, the original land owner, Tamim, who happens to be the stepson of the Minister of Defense (and a former used car salesman in America…seriously), has returned demanding the land and the house. He claims that the church has no right to the land or the building, and has taken the case to the Afghan courts. For the past two months, Dan, as Chairman of the Board of the church, has been dragged away daily to court (forcing me to pull “Lehman hours” once again) in what I can only describe as one of the most bizarre legal battles I’ve ever seen. With virtually no evidence that the property should be handed back to him, Tamim has muscled his way through the legal system using bribes, courtroom rants, and threats on virtually everyone (which apparently you can do when your stepfather is the Defense Minister). And now, in what has taken “bizarre” to a whole new level, we’ve learned that the case has never actually been filed with the courts – that the landlord has been bribing/pressuring judge after judge to rule on a case that doesn’t even exist. How did we find all of this out? The church’s attorney decided to speak with a former Nixon aid, who spoke with Secretary of State Clinton, who spoke with President Karzai, who spoke with the Afghan Supreme Court Justice, who has been informed to “bring order” to his court. We’re now awaiting word on how things will proceed and whether this pretty remarkable feedback loop translates into justice. Given the country’s August elections (and a struggling used car market in the States), we’re assuming he will push to get this resolved as soon as possible.

As you can see from the examples above, life here is and will continue to be challenging. Corruption permeates virtually every aspect of life, oppressing individuals, communities, and institutions alike. But at the same time that corruption oppresses, microfinance empowers by giving people opportunities to better their lives in an ethical manner. Yes, some will try to take advantage of us. Some will outright screw us. That’s life, anywhere. We deal with it, learn from it and try to prevent it as we move forward. Nothing that has happened since I came back to Kabul in January has demoralized me; rather, it has strengthened my passion to get better at what we do so that none of this happens again. And as friendships continue to grow, as the winter wears down, as electricity now flows in abundance to Kabul (thank you Uzbekistan!), and as I learn to enjoy life more each day despite the challenges, I (still) wouldn’t choose to be anywhere else. Happy New Year to everyone, as March 21st marked the beginning of year 1388 of the Islamic calendar!

I was always told that winter in Kabul is stunning...see if you agree. Also included are some pics from a recent trip to Kampala, Uganda with an Afghan colleague (Aman). Enjoy!

My Beijing Hiatus

2008-12-09T08:37:00.000-08:00

Hello from…China! (Never thought I’d be saying that.) I realized when I sat down to write this post that it was going to be difficult. I have to first describe circumstantial realities that scream “get the hell out of Afghanistan” and then follow that by defending why I need to stay. I contemplated writing about the former Taliban minefield-turned Kabul golf course, but decided that would be taking the easy way out…and so I proceed with plan A.

As many of you have been reading in the news, Kabul has suffered a recent string of attacks on foreigners. In late October, a British woman, Gayle Williams, was shot and killed while walking to work in a residential neighborhood in Kabul. While the Taliban claimed responsibility for the attack, the word on the street is that it was nothing more than a botched robbery attempt. Just two days later, a local security guard killed two foreigners, then committed suicide in the middle of the street in downtown Kabul. Some suggest that this was simply a case of a disgruntled Afghan “going postal,” while others think it was terrorist or criminal gang-related. Days later, a French aid worker was abducted by gunmen in a residential neighborhood of Kabul (although I read recently that he was released!). This final abduction was the straw that broke the camel’s back and led HOPE to temporarily relocate me to our Asia headquarters in Beijing to “camp out” while we reassess and upgrade our security practices. It’s now day 43 here (but who’s counting?) and I find myself having to convince our Afghan staff in Kabul that I’m not simply staying because I found a Chinese girlfriend…

I realize I need to take a hard look at what is happening in Kabul. The city can indeed be dangerous. But do I feel like I'm personally in immediate danger when I'm living there? For the most part, no. Most of the privileges that place me in immediate danger (e.g., walking to work or biking around town) have been taken away from me. Is a lot out of my control in a city like Kabul? Sure. However, I feel like it would take an exceptional case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time for something harmful to happen to me.

What are we doing to mitigate risk when I return? The answer is a long list of new security restrictions. I’ll most likely be traveling by vehicle only. I’ll be checking in with “base” via radio when leaving places and arriving at destinations. I’ll have a curfew. I’ll have limits placed on the restaurants where I can eat. No golf. No visiting clients. The list goes on and on. Basically, much of the fun of Kabul will be taken away, but ultimately I understand why and am not fighting it. HOPE has also hired a professional security firm from the States that specializes in preparing people much more important than me (e.g., congressmen, diplomats, etc.) to travel and operate in high-risk settings. I’ll be going through advanced training with them on how to avoid potentially dangerous situations and how to respond appropriately when such situations do arise. This firm will also be giving the go-ahead on when it's ok to return to Kabul, but ultimately it's going to be a call that my team makes. Additionally, I’ll be joining a security network that will send out text messages and email updates with real-time information of threats and related precautions to take.

I realize that these extra precautions appease only some people, and they don’t actually respond to the heart of what concerns many of you. The question still remains: Why do I really want to be in Kabul? Why is Kabul worth the danger in which I am choosing to put myself? Why, when there are people all over the world who need help, do I want to be in a place that’s so unpredictably volatile? This summer, the original decision to move to Kabul was professional more than anything. An opportunity had presented itself to gain some valuable on-the-ground experience in a completely different culture, and I simply needed to Carpe the Diem. I remember thinking how being on the global frontlines seemed appealing. I remember being confident that life would be a lot of things, but it would never be dull. I knew there would be risk, but at that point the risk seemed worthwhile. After all, we all take calculated risks each day without realizing it: from sharing the road with crazy soccer moms to choosing who we will marry. My decision to move to Kabul was simply a calculated risk on a big scale. The opportunity to apply my professional skills to a cause that matched my passion was worth the danger I would be facing.

While all these feelings are still there, my reasons now for wanting to be in Kabul are dominated by something very different: I simply can’t stand what I’ve seen there over the last several months and I don’t feel I have the choice but to do something about it. In a culture where women are treated like slaves, where girls have acid thrown in their eyes while walking to school simply because they are girls (yes, this happened recently), where for many the opportunity to escape a life of oppression and poverty is at best unrealistic, it isn’t difficult for anger to build up. And while my natural tendency is to ignore or explain away that which creates anger, I’ve made the decision that I need to do something about it this time. How often do you open the paper and read about things that make your stomach turn but have no avenue through which to respond? In my case, however, I get to respond. I get to act out of my education, stability, and resources to make an impact in the lives of those that lack all to which I’ve had access. To me that is a gift and an opportunity. I’m not saying that everything that frustrates me should become my personal assignment to change. But when something eats at my soul, I need to do something about it. I understand those who tell me I should be concerned first and foremost about myself, my future, my safety and my comfort. But after seeing the suffering in Kabul face-to-face, I can’t exclusively prioritize those concerns. To me, this is precisely the time not to be thinking solely of myself. Yes, I need to be patient, smart and careful. And yes my personal impact in the end may be small. But this doesn’t deter me from pressing forward in what I believe to be a life-changing endeavor.

Yes, going back to Kabul will be tough. The comfort-oriented, risk-calculating, family-loving side of me wonders what the hell I’m doing. But the mission-driven and results-oriented side of me tells me that I have to go back. I’m uncomfortable with the fact that so many of you won’t agree with my decision, but it is beyond my power to satisfy and pacify your fears (although I really wish I could!). I’m not asking you to trust me. I’m just asking you to trust the God that I trust.

On another note, and more important than any of this, I have some great news: Dan’s friend, Al (am able to say that now), was rescued and is back home in the States with his family! Apparently, through a series of negotiations, an agreement was made to make some sort of a “payment” to the captors. When they tried to contact Al’s bank back in the States, the FBI traced the call and sent in a military team (packed with Apache helicopters and all) and rescued him without a bullet being fired. Thanks to those who have kept him in your prayers. I’m sure he and his family appreciate them tremendously.

Happy holidays to everyone. Can’t wait to see a lot of you in a couple weeks. I’ll be in Chicago from Dec. 20-26 and then in New York from Dec. 27-Jan. 4. Would love to catch up with as many of you as I can.

Also, while the Kabul Golf Course didn’t make it into the body of this post, I’ve included some photos below, along with a few from China. Enjoy.

Ramadan in the Stan

2008-10-09T04:34:00.000-07:00

Growing up in a “Christian” country, I never really took the opportunity to learn about Islam, now the most populous religion worldwide (though I’ve come to learn this has more to do with higher birth rates in Muslim countries than with actual conversions). For most of my life, my knowledge of Islam was limited to watching Hakeem Olajuwon spend a month of each NBA season battling fatigue from not eating or drinking between sunrise and sunset (and often playing better during that time). It wasn’t until I came to Afghanistan that I developed a curiosity and willingness to explore what Islam stands for and how its convictions manifest themselves in one’s daily life. Living in Kabul, the Islamic faith has been placed at my doorstep, particularly as my colleagues and the rest of the country observe the holiest month of the year—Ramadan.

When I mention Ramadan to friends and family back home, I find myself repeatedly being asked the same question, “What’s that all about?” As a result, I thought it might be helpful to give a quick 101 crash course on this Islamic tradition. Ramadan takes place annually during the lunar month which the Koran was supposedly revealed to the chosen (yet illiterate) prophet Muhammad. During the month, Muslims are required to diligently fast and pray; Afghans caught not observing the fast are typically sent to prison for up to nine months and fined up to $1,000. The irony is that more food is actually consumed in Afghanistan during the month of Ramadan than in any other month. Families usually have a huge meal at sunset and then wake before dawn to indulge in another. At that time (roughly 4 AM), they also perform the first of their five required daily prayers in response to dozens of air horns yodeling the call to prayer throughout the city—an effective yet unappreciated alarm clock for yours truly. In addition, Muslims are expected to refrain from the “pleasures of the flesh” while they are fasting, with the penalty for breaking this rule being an additional 60 days of fasting once Ramadan has finished.

While most Muslims would agree that Ramadan offers them an opportunity to devote “extra” energy to inner reflection, self-control, and devotion to Allah through prayer and sacrifice, the skeptic (or realist) in me wonders — is it more faith or fear that drives them? And if observing the fast is supposed to be a joyous experience, why would extending it be used as a “punishment” for those who break its rules? Interestingly, from what I’ve observed, the dominant motivation behind following the rules hasn’t been a desire to grow closer to Allah, express appreciation to him, or learn to better empathize with the poor, hungry or sick. The dominant motivation has been rooted in a fear of the consequences of NOT following the rules. Let me explain. Most Muslims fear condemnation for their wrongdoings and feel that their personal sacrifices can and must atone for them. In other words, the discomfort associated with fasting, along with the obligatory prayers, are essentially methods of paying the penalty for sins committed in the past that would have otherwise condemned them on judgment day. With such beliefs, it’s an understatement to say that a lot is at stake during this month (their eternal destiny!). Despite the sacrificial nature of the fast, however, the majority of Muslims with whom I spoke actually look forward to these 30 days, although they seem to look forward to the 3-day celebration following the conclusion of Ramadan – called Eid – even more.

Switching gears, I wanted to share an excerpt from an email sent to me by a colleague, Sarah, who recently visited Kabul. I thought it would shed another perspective, a female perspective, on life here from someone who writes a whole lot better than I do. Enjoy…

“Kabul. It’s a dusty and riveting city: whole lambs dangle from store-front awnings, burka-ed women and metallic disco-shirted men pass on what’s considered a sidewalk, kids on bicycles would knock you into the gutter if you don’t watch out, taxis are like living rooms with their Persian rugs on the back seats and fake flower arrangements on the back windshield shelf that would be more at home in a funeral parlor. There are wooden carts piled high with apples, melons, peaches, and other brilliant produce that are a reminder of the life and flavor that lie underneath the dirt surface of this country, like a woman’s perfectly coiffed hair underneath her headscarf. The frustration of Kabul is not the poverty, the dust that makes wearing black pants a fool’s choice, the heat, or any other environmental concerns. What makes Kabul so stifling is how insulated it is, how I look at it through windows or downcast eyes and have no access to the flavor and life. Security—it’s the bane of all foreigners that wish they could be more part of the city that they want to love. One afternoon I walked five blocks down a safe street by myself (and first called Dan’s wife to ask if this was a good idea); other than that, I was outdoors only when walking short distances during daylight hours with Bryan (or one time with a woman that worked at the guest house where I stayed, since there was no other chaperone available). I can’t try out my ten words of Dari with the vegetable seller or wander down the streets that beckon with their old-world flavor of mud walls and kids flying kites.

The strangest thing about Afghanistan is that, with all that’s in my face that’s impossible to process and absorb, with stir-crazy legs that want nothing more than to hike and explore the mountains that are close enough to touch and yet couldn’t be more inaccessible if they were in Greenland, I really love going there. Hope’s microfinance work is poised to take off—during my two weeks I consulted on the ongoing work of formalizing policies and procedures, streamlining existing operational practices, and generally building the necessary back-office infrastructure so that when expected funding comes in we can hire hire hire and lend lend lend. There’s a ton of need and demand in Kabul and I’m thrilled to watch 4,000 clients double in the next year and keep growing as we look at new markets. That’s a lot of poor families that can see incomes teetering on the edge of insufficiency stabilize and increase. Afghanistan is facing political, security, and food crises, but poverty won’t stop for the show and neither will our microfinance solutions.”

Couldn’t have said it better myself…

Also, to update those interested in the kidnapping of Dan’s friend, the news at the moment is that there is no news. What I know is that he’s still being held captive and that his company’s crisis management team is in town negotiating with the men who kidnapped him; apparently these types of situations can go on for months before any progress is made. Guys like me are usually kept out of the loop and only hear when something major happens, but I’ll be sure to fill everyone in when I hear anything of substance. Please continue to keep him in your prayers.

And again, thank you to everyone for their encouraging emails and comments. They continue to fuel me through good times and bad out here.

Please check out some new pics below...

One Month Down...

2008-08-31T21:31:00.000-07:00

First of all, thank you to everyone for your encouraging comments and emails since my last posting! Hearing from you all helps me out tremendously over here.

To start off, many of you have asked me to describe my daily routine here in Kabul. Sorry to disappoint, but it’s not all that different than it was back in the States. I get up, go to Dari class, go to work, try to get a workout in, maybe see some friends, and then go home. At this point I’m still staying at Dan’s house in a neighborhood called Carte Se, essentially the “burbs” of Kabul, which hasn’t been the greatest for the social life but has been exactly what I’ve needed this first month here. This weekend, aka Thursday and Friday here in Afghanistan, I’ll be moving into downtown Kabul and living at a house currently being rented by a UK-based NGO called Tear Fund. I’ll be staying with 2 Kenyans, an Ethiopian, a Ugandan and a woman from New Zealand – not exactly what I would have guessed in coming to Afghanistan but yet another opportunity for some cultural growth. Despite all that comes with sharing a house, I couldn’t have asked for a better living situation. Having roommates is important here in Kabul - it’s just not the kind of place where you want to live alone. Plus it’s clean, secure, and filled with people completely different than me. We’ll have a guard on duty at all times, a cook and a great view of the city. All in all, it’s a great find.

Regarding exercise, someone recently asked, “What do Afghans think of you, the “whiter than white boy,” running for exercise - not away from someone?” Well, I’ve retired from running in the streets of Kabul – couldn’t handle having to fend off packs of dogs while kids chase me down the road and everyone looks at me like I’m running naked. Ironic – in New York, running naked is just about what it would take to get a second glance from most people. If someone could stick a treadmill in a care package for me, I’d appreciate it. In the meantime I’m just going to stick to running laps around my yard and making a fool out of myself playing ultimate frisbee with other expats.

It’s been an eventful last two weeks since I last wrote. This past Sunday I attended my first Afghan wedding – quite the experience. I received the “Save the Date” on Wednesday and the invitation on Saturday – apparently Afghans don’t have quite the busy social calendars that we do back home. Similar to the States, weddings are huge events here. Families save for years and can go into considerable debt to be able to host a respectable reception. During this wedding, as is custom at nearly all Afghan weddings, the men and women spent the evening in separate rooms, which makes sense given that men and women are rarely allowed to interact with non-family members of the opposite sex. After a standard weapons search, we were escorted to the men’s room and welcomed to the ear-deafening sound of top 40 Afghan hits. I’m pretty sure someone convinced the band that the amount of fun we’d have that evening would be directly proportional to the volume of the music. One problem though – men need women to dance with them, whereas women certainly do not need men. So I sat with my new Afghan “bros” and chatted while a few brave souls donned the dance floor and attempted to impress the all-male crowd with their best “screw in the light bulb, pet the dog” performance. Had I been more confident in my worm I would have definitely introduced them to it. What was interesting was what was happening in the women’s room. Since the majority of Afghans marry their first cousins – something I’ve had a hard time getting used to – weddings are an opportunity for the single women to impress their potential mother-in-laws with their brightly-colored 80’s prom dresses, glittered everything and relatively provocative dance moves. Weddings also give women one of the few opportunities to let their guards down and interact with each other without much inhibition.

As some of you might have read, Olympic fever has in fact hit Afghanistan in full force (thanks for asking, Johanna), with Rohullah Nikpai winning the bronze medal in taekwondo – Afghanistan’s first ever Olympic medal. What might be an even bigger deal is the fact that this national hero is also a Hazara, traditionally one of the most oppressed ethnic groups in Afghanistan. To see over 5,000 Afghans welcome him home in a packed National Stadium in Kabul – which just a few years ago was used for public executions by the Taliban – was a huge moment for this country. The medal was such a big deal that AWCC, a local cell phone company equivalent to a T-Mobile or Verizon, posted a half-page ad in the Times (Agfhanistan Times that is) congratulating Nikpai and stating that he would be receiving a cash reward and “a permanent job at AWCC.” Can you imagine winning your country’s first ever Olympic medal and your reward is a job at T-Mobile? I guess when the unemployment rate is over 40%, you take what you can get…

On a more serious note, security has become more of an issue recently, with some particularly bad news to report. One of Dan’s good friends was kidnapped a little more than a week ago in a distant village outside of Kabul considered to be a “no go zone” and has yet to be released. The small group of us who know what happened have been warned to keep things under wraps while the villagers negotiate with the captors. Apparently the more public this is, the more publicity it gets, the more valuable he becomes to the captors’ cause and the less likelihood he has of being released. If it leaks to the press, things become significantly more complicated, though exactly what that means hasn’t been all that clear. As a result, we’re just waiting here powerless to do much of anything. This combined with the recent attack on three foreign aid workers and their driver hours south of Kabul (they were setting up a project for children with disabilities for God’s sake) means that although things in the city itself are still safe, it has become increasingly dangerous outside of Kabul (where I don’t go) and has lead to a bit of a “tense” atmosphere within the city.

What is so surreal about life here is how I find myself and other expats reacting to news like this. We hear something awful, take a little time to process it, and then carry on with life seemingly unphased. I can’t tell if it’s a coping mechanism, a desensitized perspective on reality, or some combination of the two, but it doesn’t seem normal. We’re living in a country where poverty, oppression and violence stare us in the face every day, yet I still find myself worrying more about how I’m going to get our financial statements to balance or whether or not I’m going to get a workout in that day than I do about any of these things. It bothers me, but maybe it’s the only way to be able to press on - simply choosing to look past the evil and not allow the “enemy” to win, whoever that may be…

So to make a long story short, for the most part things are going well. I’m feeling more and more comfortable and slowly creating a life here, and despite the challenges, which I’m slowly learning to deal with, this is an incredible place to be.

Look forward to hearing from you all, and please check out some pics below. I'll try to get some new ones up each posting...

Hello from Kabul!

2008-08-12T02:11:00.000-07:00

It’s now been 2 weeks since I arrived in Kabul, and I find myself wrestling with two overwhelming questions of the day from friends and family back home – “How are you?” and “What is it like?” These questions are particularly difficult to answer here because, to be honest, I’m just not sure yet. But I’ll give it a go…

On one hand, it’s tremendously exciting to be able to do microfinance in a place that needs it badly. As most of you probably know, Afghanistan is one of the poorest countries in the world, and coming out of years of brutal oppression by the Taliban (the stories I have already heard…), Afghans (especially women) are excited that they now have opportunities to create lives for themselves and their families – opportunities previously denied them. I see potential to do some really substantial things here that could impact thousands of Afghans, and that in itself makes life exciting.

With that said, I must admit the last couple weeks have been some of the most humbling of my life, as I can’t remember ever feeling so out of my element, uninformed, uncomfortable and powerless to do much of anything. I can’t speak the language (although I hear “nay” means “no”), and with very few Afghans speaking English, coupled with the fact that within Kabul people barter for just about everything, things like buying bread on my own are not yet realistic. I also realize how little I know about Islamic culture – in general and in particular in Afghanistan. And with Islamic law and customs permeating just about every aspect of life here, it’s difficult to make sense out of so much of what I see and hear. Still, I’m confident that with my unique ability to bombard people with questions - otherwise known to me as my “inquisitiveness” – in time things will begin to become less nebulous. Combining these challenges with the general security threat, while simultaneously having to battle desert heat, a lack of AC, spotty electricity, slow internet, an abundance of dust, a seemingly universal neglect of the use of deodorant, lack of hot showers (which quite possibly could be exacerbertating the aforementioned odor problem), sharing the road with both NATO forces and herds of sheep (with the sheep usually winning), having to sit Indian style while not having stretched since high school (site to see), and the lack of a place to exercise (despite the country’s obsession with Arnold Schwarzenegger), amongst other things, makes life particularly challenging. But I’m confident that in time I can adjust to this new life, which I am fully aware that in comparison to most Afghans, is still one of luxury and comfort. Again, all part of the humbling process…

Regarding the security situation here in Kabul, ask various people and you’ll get a wide range of opinions and restrictions. US Embassy workers are not supposed to leave their compound under any circumstances, and if they must, they travel in armored vehicles that, to me, seem to make them more of a target than anything else. USAID workers are not allowed to travel alone and thus have personal body guards with them at all times. Curfews are imposed on many NGO’s staff – sometimes 9pm, sometimes later – and they are restricted to a list of a few expat restaurants that have implemented strict security restrictions, meaning fully gated, razor-wired walls, armed guards at the doors, inconspicuous locations, etc. Most NGO workers are connected to a radio network where they are periodically updated on any potential security threats and are required to check in on a regular basis to verify all is well.

And then there’s Dan, my boss…

Dan’s an American who’s been over here for the last 18 years – including 7 years of Taliban rule - doing community development work in various capacities. He lives here with his wife, Susan, and his 4 kids: Rachel; Katherine; Ross and Eric. Dan rides his bike across town to work every day, which some would say makes him a target. He walks the streets on his own and feels safe doing so. Although he adheres to what seem to be minimal security restrictions – radio check-ins, limitations on being out at night, etc. – he has said he often does so more to appease others than because he feels he needs to. So where does that leave me? Trying to figure that one out…

All in all, despite the tough conditions and despite missing my friends and family terribly, not to mention NYC, SportsCenter, and ML in a can, I still feel an overwhelming sense of peace that I am exactly where I am supposed to be right now. As I’ve told some – that sense of peace is what I try to listen to.

So…regarding this blog moving forward – please, let me know what you all would like me to write about. I know people like pictures (promise next entry will have some), and I know that people don’t like to read 10-page entries, especially if I’ve written them, but other than that it’s still a little cloudy. Ask any questions you might have and I’ll do my best to get answers for you – or at least make something up.

I’m going to try and do weekly or bi-weekly entries in the future, so feel free to check the site whenever you have a chance…