Can I Get You More Rice? Or Perhaps an AK?

In perhaps my deepest dive yet into the realm of the surreal I found myself at the crossroads of two seemingly contradictory elements of the Afghan experience - hospitality and violence.

I was thoroughly enjoying a delicious and seemingly bottomless plate of rice, flatbread, chicken, and spicy soup (without fish), with a charming man with the gentle demeanor, twinkling eyes and snowy beard of Santa Claus and having a good laugh over a popular Afghan topic - firearms.

Looking out windows made of plastic wrap, because the glass had been blown out 2 months before during an attack by suicide bombers, my friend was joking about how he was glad the U.S. soldiers who had been present weren't more heavily armed at the time as they probably would have shot the compound guards instead of the intruders (who had used a time-honored ploy of dressing as Afghan police). Then his demeanor turned more serious and we waited for the translation, which turned out to be the story of how his own weapon was destroyed in the fire that followed the attack. Fortunately for me, he was looking at my military colleagues who had more instinctive empathy for the loss (and who immediately understood that the weapon in question cost about 6K - or more than many houses in Afghanistan). I was still wrapping my head around the idea that Santa was accustomed to packing heat...

Then the conversation turned to my taste in weaponry, and I explained that was not allowed to carry a weapon. This revelation produced the customary gasps of dismay and sympathy. Undeterred by a policy so foreign I'm not sure he even beleived it to be true (it is) - my solicitous host immediately offered with total sincerity to obtain an appropriate weapon for me. Surreal and tragi-comic as it was, the spontaneous generosity and concern was touching, and made for one of the highlights of my tour so far.

For the record, I declined politely and said I would borrow one from the governor if the need arose, since he is apparently now in the habit of having both the local favorite AK 47, and the standard US issue "long arm" M4 rifle. My military colleagues have also been looking out for me - and make a habit of carrying a handgun that is "battle bling" at best, but is really nothing but extra weight on a pack that can weigh up to 100 lbs already.  However, it is an accessory I am authorized to borrow if lead starts flying. I'm not sure if I am more appreciative of the extra effort they make for me, or the implication that they seem to trust me to avoid a "friendly fire" incident. Also for the record, my goal and expectation is to never find myself in need of a loan.

Lest you feel there is no hope left when guests are set at ease by the presence of firearms, I also had a pre-lunch with an Afghan general (I love that it is impolite to turn down offers of food).  When asked his age (not by me), he said, "I am 58, and have been fighting for over 40 years, but I will be young if Afghanistan can have peace".

Pilgrimage to Panjshir

It was my good fortune and pleasure to have a legitimate business reason to go to the Panjshir valley

The Panjshir valley is probably best known for its prodigal son Ahmad Massoud, who earned the title of the "Lion of the Panjshir" for the losses he inflicted on Soviet troops which made the mistake of coming into his valley.  As the leader of the anti-Taliban Northern Alliance he was widely expected to govern Afghanistan. Sadly, Al Qaeda assassinated him on September 9th 2001, making him a martyr, whose face adorns offices and windshields throughout the country.

Panjshir is also an emerging tourist destination (yes your heard me right) - based largely on the cult of personality that has built up around him, and the newly constructed Massoud's Monument (and tomb).

See - trees, water, nice road - what more can you ask for?

Paradise - complete with a Koi pond

Some of the Soviet equipment that never made it out of the valley

We were there to discuss the "transition" - which is the handover of security responsibility from the International Security Assistance Force (ISAF) - to Afghan control.  In other words, we take a step back, Afghans take a step forward and take back full control of their country and destiny. Simple to say, hard to do, but there are positive things happening.

Ironically, one of the signs of success was a recent unsuccessful attack on the base. While it succeeded in sowing doubts and concerns about how the Taliban could strike deep within territory that is famously hostile towards them, the attack itself was a failure, just like the attack on the U.S. Embassy in Kabul which did resulted only in cosmetic damage but captured headlines for weeks.

Anyhow - the change in venue was invigorating, and while I've pretty well mastered the tricks of getting in and out of the 4 point harness, I still can't get in a helo and feel the ground fall away and the green fields and brown mountain tops open up without taking a mental picture (and often a regular one) and thanking the higher power for having landed such an awesome job.

The most upsetting damage for residents was to the b-ball hoop

 

Winter on its way

From Elephants to Cell Phones - Amazing Progress Underway

As Americans and children of the electronic age we are hard-wired to expect progress to be rapid, measurable and almost visible. Raised in the age of "planned obsolescence" we expect our cell phone to need an update on a monthly basis and to last a year or two before it is hopelessly outdated.

It should therefore not be a surprise that a country that I have had described to me as "biblical" will create frustrations for soldiers and civilians who drop in for 6-12 months with a burning desire to "fix" things. Perhaps it is also because of a very human desire to assign a deep meaning to a trip that implies hardships of separation and anxiety. As is often the case, such things are viewed clearly most through the lense of youth, and my 10 year old son captured this expectation perfectly with his optimistic observation that "it sounds like you’re saving the country Dad". I was both deeply touched and a bit depressed as I wondered if this vision of my omnipotence stemmed from my effort to describe my visit to a local village irrigation project in terms he would grasp, but had perhaps come out like Rudyard Kipling's "white mans burden". On the other hand, it could be his own amplification of the tasks I face and the certainty of "success" which help him justify my absence. Regardless - it is difficult to find the right mental framework for living and working in Afghanistan, as it should be realistic about our place and role as outsiders, while still serving to explain things to "the homefront".

For similar reasons it is easy to overlook the positives here, and the ten year increase in life expectancy and tenfold increase in the number of students in school that has occured over the last decade are often overlooked. As we give our full effort to "victory" we struggle to understand why many Afghans live in mud dwellings and practice subsistence agriculture, and watch the ongoing struggle with ambivalence towards both the government and the various insurgent groups waging a violent but intermittent struggle which ebbs and flows with weather, harvest season, and other mundane concerns that take precedence over engaging the enemy.

Accordingly, it was a genuine pleasure to visit a development project that suggested the pace of progress is really quite remarkable. At the end of the 19th century the government of Afghanistan decided to develop a hydropower plant in Jabul Saraj (a few miles up the road from my base) to power what would become a major industrial center for Afghanistan, sporting textile manufacturing, agricultural processing facilities, and other light manufacturing industries.

The four massive turbines manufactured in Schenectady, NY were shipped to Pakistan, brought overland by the same routes used by NATO supply convoys, and up to the border of Afghanistan. From there, the roads and vehicles were unable to handle the multi-ton machines, which were then loaded onto a team of elephants to take them over several hundred miles of rugged terrain. After their arrival and installation they have been in service for a century with only rudimentary and erratic maintenance, though their output eroded steadily to a point where only minor residential needs are now met by the facility.

Don't Build 'em Like They Used To...

Just below the old plant a new structure is rising which will hold five new turbines, each of which is capable of producing a fairly modest 500 kw - or enough to power the same number of U.S. homes. Nonetheless, if it were hooked up to the current electrical grid this output would literally melt the wires and blow out the nearest transformers - as it represents a 50 fold increase from the current flow.

Given that a key factor in the evaporation of industrial activity in the area was the loss of reliable and affordable electricity - it is exciting to be part of bringing back an essential ingredient for economic growth. The harder part will fall to Afghan investors and leaders to harness, channel and maintain the energy flow, but that has happened before and is underway now.

Anyhow - I'm missing the pics for this outing - but am going to throw it on anyhow - and plan to clean things up later so my momentum keeps up...

New Favorite Acronym

First – a big thanks to the nameless, but wonderfully ego-inflating reader who kindly asked “what happened?”

Luckily, R+R happened. That would be Rest and Recovery, or Rest and Relaxation, or Regroup and Recharge or any other two R words that imply getting out and chilling out.

Suffice to say that I accomplished all the R’s above and a few more to boot. That said, there is a reason why R+R exists, and why I’m already planning my next one. I will also note that while extremely generous (thank you again dear taxpayers) my R+R did started well after my last blog, and ended well before this one.

My Other Home Sweet Home

First, paradoxically, R+R becomes more needed after the effort needed to go on R+R.  As I’ve alluded to before, I am something of an “Army of One” in this job, and the very process of going on leave and making arrangements (in most cases) for ongoing activities was exhausting and required whatever diplomatic finesse I might have acquired in the last decade plus of my experience in the Foreign Service.

Secondly, the military axiom that “tactics are for amateurs but logistics is for professionals” was doubly true for me as I had a series of trips and events leading up to my departure which made for an insanely complicated pattern of moving from truck to helo to truck, dropping a bag, hopping another truck, grabbing pre-packed luggage, another truck, another helo and finally a plane to Kabul where my commercial flight picked up.  Being the semi-professional that I have become, I was glad that I had laid fallback plans, as it was plan C that finally got me on my way out at the last possible hour before I would have lost my flight and been back to zero.

Suffice to say that it was surreal to start the journey sitting in a Blackhawk helicopter waiting for an F-16 to clear the runway to looking out over the manicured lawns and pools of suburbia.  The trip back was equally frenzied with various events leading me to spend each of my first five nights back in Afghanistan in a different location. Luckily, while it is impossible to ever truly master the shifting labyrinth of systems and personalities that make up my work world, and which allow me to move from place to place – it was refreshing to return to Kabul, Bagram, and my own PRT and knowing how and where to find a meal and a shower, and who I needed to talk to get a ride to my next destination, or (more importantly) a cup of coffee…

Sadly, the war was not won (or lost) in my absence, but the seasons marched on and “fighting season” is drawing to a close as the snowcaps that now dot the horizon start to creep downward.  The wind is also back with a vengeance, and I expect that the soccer games and afternoon walks will soon be a thing of the past.

Coming Soon to a FOB near you - snow
 

Anyhow,  despite the wicked work hangover it was great to recharge, remember what we have, and come back with new energy and perspective.

Up next – the story of elephants, New England and Cap’n Crunch.