Messed up funding priorities: where is the money for women?

Billion's of dollors of Aid coming in, yet we cant find the resources to Help Torpikai and thousands of others like here!

You will give us millions to spend on infrastructure, yet not what we need to keep Torpikai and her children and all the other widows off the streets

These are some screwed up funding priorities.

Kieran Green is the Communications Manager for CARE Canada. He is currently in Kabul, Afghanistan, gathering stories about the Afghan women CARE is working to empower. This is a piece that he wrote

Today was my first chance to get out into Kabul and meet some of the women CARE works with in Afghanistan. I’ll get to meet many more over this week and next, and I hope to hear many stories of success – women who have found livelihoods, education, health and empowerment with a hand from CARE. But today the stories were different. They weren’t stories of success. They were stories of need, and desperation.

Today, out in the impoverished districts of Kabul, I met two women: Torpikai and Khatam Jan.

Torpikai fled her native province of Logar, one of the most dangerous provinces in Afghanistan. She spends every day looking after her ill and elderly mother and mother-in-law, her sister-in-law who is both physically and mentally ill, and their six children. The children don’t go to school. She can’t afford the fees. The neighbours give them old clothes. The wearable pieces she uses for her family, the rest she burns for heat. She bakes bread for the neighbours to earn a meager income. With all the family to look after, there’s no way she can ever leave the house to find other work.

Khatam Jan lost a leg to a land mine, and her husband to a bullet, in the violence that tore apart Kabul in the 1990s. Once she did laundry for neighbours to earn a meager income to support her son and four daughters, but today she is too old to work. Her son is in grade 10, and can only afford the school fees by finding and selling plastic bags in the street. There’s no money left for the rest of the family.

What both women have in common is their only source of food: CARE’s HAWA program (Humanitarian Assistance for the Women of Afghanistan). Since 1994 CARE has been providing basic staples – wheat, beans, oil and salt – for thousands of vulnerable Afghan widows. Those distributions have been funded since the beginning by the Canadian International Development Agency (CIDA).

Over the years the HAWA program has been the mother for a host of other programs that help women move beyond dependence on food aid to sustainable lives and livelihoods. CARE is proud that a majority of women have ‘graduated’ from food aid to better lives. Unfortunately there will always be a small number – women like Torpikai and Khatam Jan – who because of illness, disability, age or circumstance will likely be dependent for their entire lives.

Even more unfortunate, it now seems the funding for the HAWA program will soon run out. Unless CARE can find a new donor, the food distributions will end. For the women like Torpikai and Khatam Jan this will be a disaster. They don’t know how they will survive. Torpikai says she will pray, and probably send her children out to beg. As for Khatam Jan, she just doesn’t know.

 The funding for this work ends Next month. What is going to happen to these women? where is the commitment of the international community?

 

 

 

Afghanistan enters the world of International one day cricket

India v/s Afghanistan, Afghanistan's Debut match in International Cricket, dont know who I want to win more, wish both could and they were not in the same group! Cheering Noor Ali's first few boundaries. Cheering Noor Ali’s 50!

India win by 7 wickets. My star from the afghan side was Noor Ali.

1st May 2010

Thank you Sarah

Have been grinning since I saw the message you left on my board. It helps deal with the stress of figuring out if one will have a program left by the end of the year, with donors not interested in women's empowerment but visible infrastructre! The hypocracy of it all. A few words that come to mind about the injustice of it all , but those are only for my private venting and not a public space like this. The whole donor scene is going to be a subject of another entry soon! Inshallah

CARE Afghanistan's version of Goldilocks and the Three Bear's

Its been a long time since I wrote a Blog entry, the last few months have been filled with proposals, budgets, log frames, staff retrenchment, hiring, attacks on schools and a thousand things that seem to happen at the same time and requires one’s immediate attention.

But what got me out of my blogging lethargy was what was happening outside my office window today and I just had to go out take pictures and write this before I can get back to work!

It was CARE Afghanistan’s own version of Goldilocks and the Three Bears, so here it is Ahad trying to figure out which one is ‘just right’ for him! Without further ado I will let you look at the pictures and see for yourself.

Note to Self: reason why I should never move out without a camera

Saw the most amusing sight while driving back to office from a meeting. There was a afghan police pick-up with two gun trotting cops in the back with a huge pink baby cot between them, with what looked like atleast 4 feet of pink curtains around it. They wizzed in and out of the traffice jam and were soon gone. Some lucky commandant has had a baby and needed that in a hurry, ensuring there was enough protection for it to reach in one piece.

Missed my camera!

multi purpose office space

Also being a day care.

Care has a wonderful day care for its staff. But there are times when my office doubles up as a day care and my role includes the same. when school's are shut or when the normal day care provider at home is unavailable and staff bring their children over for the day. They normally troop into my office, ostensibily for saying salam but realistically to raid my chocolate supplies (kept especially for such intrusions).

Here are a few snaps of what really happens and how my stationary is actually put to use

Munaza jan (one of the youngest ones) and my all time favourite! Now you know the reason I have toshak's in my office and not the normal furniture.

She also has a tendency of appropriating all my markers on a regular basis :).It a constant battle

retrieving them.

With Helen (the most precious one), while the rest of my team is jabbering away in Dari, this is the role assigned to me!

Peer learning at its best :). This is the only time Munaza condescended to smile for us. Tabassum is the only one she listens to.

Most of the HAWA kids as I call them.

Is constantly being surprised

As you read in the last post, the last few days I have been striving to keep it together before I leave for my annual leave. Three days after the blast, when I went to office and was having a weekly meeting with my team. The managed to surprise me yet again, the love and affection I get from them is an honour. At the end of the meeting, I am stopped leaving the room and they tell me they have something to share with me. The colleagues who were not in the meeting walk into the room and I see Aqila jan, one of the colleagues I most admire for the way she works with her team on strengthening the widows association, comes over with a gift in her hands and gives it me.

When I ask what it is for?, I get the flimsiest of excuses, for me it was their way of reaching out to me when I was hurting and letting me know they want me here. I wont even get into what some of them had to say to me then as it will probably make me cry again. I had tears in my eyes for the rest of the day and everytime i think of it even now, my eyes get wet.

Am putting some of the pictures that they took (not the best, me in an emotional state). But I wanted to share this with you, these are the colleagues who keep me going, all of whom have lost loved ones to the war and terror here. Yet they find it in their hearts to reach out to others constantly and not let bitterness and anger take over their lives. I bow before you all. Thank you

The livestock, KHAWA, FIRUP-K,WAFAA teams (We love acronyms here).







OMID team

with Aqila jan

With Dr. Zohra. The last one has me weeping, not a pretty sight but they sure know how to get to me :).

Reflections on the blast last friday: 26th Feb

http://www.outlookindia.com/article.aspx?264615


First Person
An Indian In Kabul
One of the first questions I am asked by Afghans is: Am I a Hindustani or a Pakistani? And when I respond, the smile and welcome I get overwhelms me... Friday, 26 Feb was the first time I felt unsafe here, exposed because of my nationality...
Jasveen Ahluwalia


I woke up on Friday morning around 6.40 to a loud noise, thinking we were having another earthquake. That illusion dissolved within seconds when I heard the second blast and then gunfire. Within minutes, after a call from a colleague, the four of us living in our staff compound got together. We could see the smoke from the blast and hear continuous firing for more than two hours after that. Details of what was happening kept coming in along with rumours. The one thing we were sure of in the initial hour was that it was an attack in the area of Shar-e-Naw -- the city centre. All through the day, I was in touch with friends at the Indian embassy and others, and every call added another horror. It was too close to home this time around.

I am a development professional who has been living in Afghanistan now for nearly two years. This is not the first time I have lost friends or colleagues to an attack of this nature, nor would it be the last. The first big explosion was a few months after I came here -- the attack on the Indian Embassy in July 2008. Still new to the country, my initial thought was that it was a car back- firing, till I saw colleagues moving away from glass windows. That was my induction to life in Afghanistan. The second one was when one of my first friends here, a Canadian AID worker, was killed on her way back to Kabul from visiting a community education project. Three other colleagues died with her.

Over the years, one has grown accustomed to the fact that insecurity is a constant part of life. One doesn't even think about it, until another attack/kidnapping happens. Then you find out the details, try and understand where we can tighten security, what one needs to avoid or be careful about and move on to business as usual. It's the only way you can survive working here.

But this Friday was different. I knew many of those killed. I have memories of going to Noor Guest house to visit the doctors when I had been ill, and having heard Nawab, the tabla player, at cultural events numerous times. These were people and places that are like my back yard. My favourite sheer yak (local ice cream) shop is the one next to where the Noor Guest house once stood. It has been vaporised now. I know the children who beg on these streets. I know some of them by name -- they are part of the fabric of my life here. This was an area which has numerous guest houses where friends and colleagues are put up when they are visiting. This time around, I have still not been able to put this behind me and move ahead.

It is the first time I have felt unsafe here, exposed because of my nationality and the fact that I am a Kharaji (foreigner). Till now I have basked in the love and affection the people of this country have showered on me. The way they have opened their hearts and homes to me has always made me feel at home. But I no longer feel that I could blend into the crowd at Mandayee or Laysee Mariam (the local markets), having been told enough number of times that I can pass off for an Afghan woman, till I open my mouth. Now every time I am on the streets and my head- scarf slips, I feel exposed.

One of the first questions I am asked by Afghans is: Am I a Hindustani or a Pakistani? And when I respond, the smile and welcome I get overwhelms me. Indians are loved in this country. Is that all an illusion? I used till now to believe that I am not as much of an outsider as other expats here. I have never been as conscious of my nationality as I am here, both in a positive and negative way; it had never been something that I allow to define me exclusively.

The slightest sound now startles me into thinking: Is this another attack? I do feel unsafe now, however much my friends and colleagues have tried to comfort me and tell me otherwise, it's a sad state of being. I don't live in a fortress with armed guards, and I don't wish to either. That isn't why I am here: to hide behind armed guards, only move between office and home. I am here to get to know this country and its people, to contribute in any small way I can to its development. Large gatherings of Indians is a security risk we are being told, that one needs to avoid guest houses and other places where there is a large Indian population.

I organised a prayer meeting a few days ago in memory of all those who lost their lives in Friday's attack: Afghan, Indian, Italian and French. All of Friday there were calls from Afghan friends and colleagues reaching out. They live with this insecurity every day of their lives. They live with the fact that today might be the last day of their lives. Every single one of them has lost loved ones in the last 30 years of war; I hope I have imbibed some of their strength and resilience while I have lived in their country.

I do not want this fear to remain and change me, I want to continue living and working here with my friends. But I do live with the reality that if 'they' are out to get you, they will. This is the phrase most often used by the Indian and Expat community here. It could just also be a matter of being at the wrong place at the wrong time which, I reflect, is true of any other part of the world as well.

The tragedy is that my memories of Afghanistan are built around such incidents -- those are the time- lines we use here: The day of the Serna attack was the Bollywood party, the day of the German embassy bombing was when our Health Grant came through. These are the incidents you use to remember when things happened. When will this change? In my lifetime? When will my Afghan friends who have had to leave their country be able to come back?

I am of course here by my own choice. My Afghan friends and colleagues don't have that choice. They can't escape the violence. The children on the streets don't have that choice.

Welcoming the weekend with a bomb blast and grabbing the grab bag for the first time

Was woken up a little over an hour and a half back on a jumma morning (my weekend) with the sounds of a blast (initial thought was earthquake), stepped out of my bedroom to see all the windows had opened with the impact, and things had fallen off the counter. Grabbed my wallet and passport and stuffed it into my grab bag, got a call from, my neighbour, Jen to say that our Country Director Lex said to get dressed and be ready. Now for the things that I thought of putting into my bag (all in a period of two minutes), prayer book, extra pack of ciggaretes and my knitting. This is the first time that i thought of my grab bag (we are all advised to have a small bag ready for emergencies)

We all went out into the yard, its been pouring all night and still raining, there are four of us in the compound right now, made a pot of coffee and stayed together till the gun shots abated, checked out the exit routes in case we needed to get out. An hour spent like any other socialising, how strange is that, except ofcourse everyone was worried- the phase that was repeated most often- if they are out to get you they will, nothing we can do. Called parents to let them know that I was still alive and kicking. Texted friends in the neighbourhood to make sure they knew what was happening and were ok.

Now that I have not heard any gun shots for the last twenty minutes, will get back to work and stay put for the day!

There was finally snowfall in kabul!

 

Yeah!!!!!!!!!

 

Lydia and me braving the snow and wind to get our energy fixes :)

The Knitting Club finally meets

One of my biggest stress busters the last few months has been knitting, started doing it for all the SMT/security/PCM meetings that we have every monday. It helps me to stay focused and sane :). The first time, i brought my knitting along there were the usual comments and jibes, as well as requests for scarfs, but now no one bats an eye when they see me camped in the knitting room (opps, meetings room) with my knitting, note pad and coffee.

So when I started talking to friends about it, we realised that there were a few knitting enthusiasts amongst us as well as a few who wanted to learn, and a few who then put us in the category of old maids :).

So this monday, the first knitting club get-together took place at my home with Salima, Karen and me (the enthusiasts), Zahra (the learner)and Alka (who came for the comfort food or dal, mattar pulao, zeera aloo and chatni's). Salima has set herself a goal of completing a scarf she started 5 years ago in two weeks, Karen, has been working on socks (how cool is that) for the last two year, and I wanted to finish the scarf  I started earlier this winter. So we thought if we sat down together with khana, tea and crepes (salima- makes fabulous crepes) we could motivate each other and relearn some of what we all seem to have forgotten, casting, which is knit, which is pearl and how do you change colours midway (I still havnt figured out how to do this without leaving a mark)?

Karen counting the stiches, while alka decided to join in and make a coster just for the fun of it. There was talk of darning needles, patterns, knitting books- cant wait to see where we go with this.

Zahra, the novice of the group, finally moved past the casting and first row. This girl has the right attitude, long way to go :) !







My new goal is to complete the scarf in two weeks and start on an Afghan (with diffrent coloured yarns) and get more of the ladies and gents (oh yes, there was one brave soul who is interested in learning how to knit) involved in the knitting club. I was also teased about my comments on the proper way to hold needles (but that was my mom talking not me, ladies)

Salima jan finally figured out the pattern she was working on and that it was pearl the bumps!









Look forward to more evenings like this one!

Under 19 Cricket world Cup: Afghanistan Vs India, the defending champions

It was a treat to watch Afghanistan play India in the U 19 world cup, I wasnt sure who I should be cheering for, the defending champions or the afghanistan team. Noor-Ul- Haq, played a captain's innings of 61 to take the afghanistan team to a respectable score of 118 all out. Zaki is a another player to look out for in the future. Of the 16 teams that competed in the tournamnet, afghanistan though in the bottom half did not fair as badly as the US team, which i am sure will being some cheer. I look forward to seeing this young team taking on some of the greats in the years to come.

I have seen some of them play on the ISAF grounds once before against an English county team, wish more teams would come to kabul and play cricket!

Does anyone know whats so special about Nangarhar and cricket, half the team was from there?

Today's Surprise

The day began like most Sunday's, moaning that the weekend was over, that i had not caught up with work stuff as much as planned and it would be a tough week as a result. So the first part of the morning was spent trying to catch up with emails, going over my schedule for the week and stuff like that. The surprise of the day was my newest project team (cash for work for widows) had planned a lunch for the entire HAWA team and invited representatives from all program's and departments. Probably the first time something like that was being done. Our office has more than 800 national staff and 16 expats, so its rare to meet across programs and departments for just a get together, except an annual event which Lex and Sunmaya host (our Country Director and his wife).

Inspite of implementation challenges and the like, am thankful every day for the great team I have. I dont say that because of the lunch and like :), but because they really do work like a team, which from what I hear from colleagues in other organisations, is a rariety here. They happily put in extra hours, take on extra work, things that one took for granted back home but is a challenge for most teams here.

Its a pleasure to work with such a dedicated group who pushes and inspires me to improve myself constantly too.

Jugharoos in kabul: January 2010

For the Jugharoo’s. Oh, the comfort, the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person; having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words, but to pour them all out, just as they are, chaff and grain together, knowing that a faithful hand will take and sift them, keep what is worth keeping, and then, with a breath of kindness, blow the rest away. George Eliot (Mary Ann Evans)

Here's to more travels together, to fun and silliness !

Annual Pilgrimage to Salang: Year 2

This year too I got to go to Salang again and indulge in my obsession with snow, snow fights and all. Thanks to Kebar, Humayoun and Shahwali who indulge me, friends who make life is Kabul special. I dont think I can thank you guys enough for putting up with me, pampering me, you have spolit me now :)

The day started with Shahwali and me loading up the two car's, making sure the radios were working and then picking up the other two gentlemen. Sharif and Ustad were the two drivers who took us there and bore with the snow ball fights that started on the streets but continued in the vehicle (more on that a bit further down).

The first stop once outside Kabul was in Humayoun's village called Kalakand (no it isnt named after the Indian sweet), where we bought some Kangina, grapes preserved for the winter in a covering made of mud and straw. Once Humayoun had finished with the selection we were on our way again. Food, snow and snow fights were the recurring themes of the day.

Kebar's wife had prepared the most delicious boloni (the afghan version of the paratha), which is saying something considering the quantities and varities I have eaten in my time here. These were gandana and kaccha aloo mixed with chillies (gandana aka leek, kaccha aloo aka Potatoes). The Punjabi's and Afghan's have a lot in common, especially their love for food.We also crossed Kebar's village called Totomdara, supposed to be a Hindu inspired name, a lot of the land there is owned by Hindu's.

The first town we crossed was Char e Kar, where Care has a sub office and the education program is implementing community based education for girls. The second one was Jabal Siraj where I saw the Afghan version's of jughad's. In Rajasthan (which is probably my home town now, I never know how to respond to the question which part of India do you come from?) we have Jughad's as the main form of transportation in rural areas, the engine is the motor used in wells and a wooden plank for seating, highly decorated in different styles depending on the region. I found a variation here where intead of a motor of a well, its a motorcycle converted into a jughad or auto (as its called here). The journey is beautiful when you have the Hindu Kush range on both sides, making it a beautiful road trip.

The rest of the day went dodging snow balls, being almost buried in the snow a few times, clearning roofs of snow, picknicking  besides a stream, sitting on our shawls. Both Kebar and Humayoun are quite brutal with their jang -e- barf. All in all a fun filled day with instructions for me to find a husband who lives where there is constant snow and since I was playing Babul by Shobha Mudgal an ironsmith or loohar.

I can never get enough Boloni, especially my favourite version- leek and potato with chillies.

The Salang Valley

Me with Humayoun on the left, Kebar on the right and then Shahwali

Our Picnic Spot, next to stream, sitting for boloni and chai on our shawls

The journey back into Kabul was tinged with sadness,  I was already missing the snow and thinking about when I would get to see it again. The road had been blocked by a comapany of American troops in their Humvees and tanks. Everyone who was with me would not let me take pictures of the scene saying that I could be shot at for something like that, questions asked later. Brought back the issue of how foreign troops are viewed and what actually goes on in the name of security.

This is only one that I took before my friends stopped me. I counted atleast 40 of these and am sure, missed quite a few.

The weekend began well

The weekend is finally here, its usually spent hanging out with friends, brunches, lunches, dinners, fun and sometimes exercise (HASH variety). For the uninitiated HASH or the Hash House Harriers is a group that exsits all over the world, basically for walks, runs, drinking and merry making. Last week was my first and till now only Kabul HASH walk (my main motivation for going inspite of the horror stories i have heard about the chavinism that exists in the group). more on that if I go next.
Back to this weekend. It started with a house warming party of Johnny (our security advisor) and Peter (our vocational training project manager)home. The boys had done a great job doing the place up and it had a pub/lounge feel to it. The usual suspects of girls hung out there with some interesting experiences. it started with three of us going into the kitchen to find a place to eat, as all the other space was taken. When an interesting young man took in his own words the first bold step of saying hi to us. As he himself said he was looking to score (which is so common in the kabul party scene that we girls have taken to safety in numbers). He in his highly inebriated state provided some light enterainment for us, after that exchange, he will probably not even been bold enough next time to make the first move by saying Hi. Though he did seem to indicate that in his usual state of inebriation he doesnt care even if he gets a kick in the A**.

From there the three of us moved over to lydia's house, which is next door. where we continued for a while.

Then dawned Jumma morning, the day when its permissable to sleep in :). I had two brunch options and was woken up by manadana's call at 11 asking me where the hell i was (politely). Spent the early part of the afternoon with her, Martina and a few other at flower street Cafe, its seems girls only time is the only thing i am capable of these days.

The afternoon was spent wandering around the shops of chicken street with Lydia and for a brief bit with vasu. I have been haunted by this baluchi carpet for six months, finally gave in and bought it. Made my year!

The day ended with the Jugharoo's (vasu, terry and me) having dinner with a few friends at my place. a lovely evening with some inspiring and entertaining people(terry had a story for everything)

Afghan Voices: A video produced by CARE for the london conferance

http://www.careinternational.org.uk/13104/feature-articles/video-afghan-voices.html



CARE produced this video for the london conferance that is happening today. CARE's way of ensure that voices of ordinary afghan's is also heard. Please do see it, just 15 minutes. Some of my program participants were also interviewed for it.

Barfi (not quite what the Indian's would have in mind when they hear that word)

It finally snowed in kabul, such joy, had a stupid grin on my face all morning. Then the barfi playing started, something that i had completly forgotten about, even though i really got it from the team last year too and the grin became broader :). Firstly, barfi is a tradition in afghanistan (or is it only kabul) that takes place on the first day of a proper snow fall. This is what I have understood it to be: friends/family/colleagues place Baraf or snow within something (which in office today was largely envelopes), you need to hand it over to another person and run (not get caught). the baraf is placed with a list of demands, things like a lunch treat, etc. If the other person got this without you getting caught, that person is the barfi. On the other hand if you get caught, the other person needs to put a black mark on you somewhere, then you are the barfi. Did that make sense?

Its much fun, if done early enough in the day and with a straight face (kind of hard to do if you have been running all over the office either making people barfi or escaping being made one.

It started with the CARE Finance Controller coming to my office while i was having a staff meeting, placing a very offical looking package in my hand and then fleeing, which for a brief moment, I thought was odd, until my team screamed Barfi and that's when I remembered what it was about. I ofcourse gave chance with as much dignity as i could muster (considering i was leaving a staff meeting) but could not catch up.

Just 20 minutes later (thankfully the meeting was over by then) another team mate came in very innocently (which for the brat he is, is a feat in itself and should have put me on my guard) and showed me a medicine box and asked me to tell him what it was. Inside ofcourse was the barfi, this time I decided not to give chance but accept being made barfi gracefully as giving chance would have meant navigating some oddly placed office furniture.

This is when i decided it was time to give it back. So I got another team mate involved and we prepared our packages and marched to the main office in the snow and the sleet but without any falls this time.

I started with our Emergency coordinator (Latifi sahib), who thankfully was in a meeting when I went to his room with my package and hence did not give chance, the same happened with our ACD Program support (Kebar). Though by then most of the CARE staff and the senior management (expats) had seen me and a colleague running in and out of offices for a while, I hope its not going to be an issues in my performance appraisal. So, When i tried the same with our education coordinator (Wahid), I forgot that he had been a football player, he manged to corner me in the office corridor and place a black mark on me. I now owe him a lunch. I did however, succeed with our two other program coordinators and sprinted back to the safety of my office. There was ofcourse much laughter and fun for all those witnessing these actions.

All in all a fun morning. Dont think that my working days are normally spent like this, today was an exception in honour of the first day of the snow where a bit of fun, frivolity and time off are acceptable.

Could not take any pictures though, wish I had (maybe next winter, if i am still in Afghanistan).

The fall

I was thrilled to leave home this morning and go to office, it was finally raining (leaving home at 7.20 in the morning in winter is not my favourite part of the day normally). Which meant that one hasnt given up hope on the weather/winter and that meant the drought we were fearing might not happen.

My office is across the street from the main office, which means every time i have a meeting i have to walk over,cross the street, jump over the ditch, walk next to the dug up ditch to the end of the street, i normally love that. Today though the walk took on another dimension. I was called over to discuss the women's day plans with our security and ofcourse in my enthusisam rushed out and promptly slipped and feel into the mud (atleast i hope that it was only mud, which in kabul is never a given). There were atleast 10 guards from diffrent agencies around with their guns and i think i was their entertainment for the day. these were ofcourse mostly the EU and the attorney genral's guards, the ex-mujhadeen brigade. They had a good laugh and I ofcourse was mortified. Am now hesistant to go back onto the streets, not for the usual kabul reasons of fear of kidnapping, etc.

To add insult to injury, i walk into the main office with my jeans all muddy (i hope only muddy), my shoes ruined, a bit bruised to find almost the entire staff near the reception in a condolence meeting and what do i do, promptly slip again.

Not one of my better coordinated days!

Thanks to Lex, ted and lydia for all the help cleaning me up.

Istalif

Istalif village is a little less than two hour’s drive from Kabul, near the Shomali Plains. Its known for its pottery, the colours used are mostly royal blue and deep turquoise. The merchandise ranges from bowls and plates, jugs and teacups and saucers. The view from the top of the village is stunning; you can see the shomali plains. You can see and feel the ruin created by the years of war this country has seen.
My first trip was with my room mate and our respective bosses. ML jan or Mari- Louise was leaving Afghanistan after 3 years and this was one of the last things she wanted to do. Ted and Nick our respective bosses, were new in the country and for one of them it was first time outside of Kabul.
We spent a few hours in the small street that has around 15 stores, browsing and chatting with some of the old men. ML jan speaks fluent dari and me with my broken Dari did a lot of shopping.
The afternoon was spent besides the lake in a chai khana, relaxing, having kebab’s and naan with lots of green tea.
For me the first impression was of the fresh air, away from the dust and garbage of Kabul, I felt that I was relearning how to breathe again. One doesn’t realise how much the Kabul air affects you till you leave it.
It was a beautiful spring day and hope to go back once again this year.

Buzkashi in kabul

A Buzkashi match between the panjsheer and kabul team. A team sport played on horseback. the rider grabs the goat from the ground at a full gallop and needs to take it to the goal line or circle. the goat is beheaded and disemboweled. its a game often compared to polo. A few of us went a few days before christmas'09 to see this match. A few pictures.

Give it to me


Here we go again



the audience



Where is the goat?

Jugharoos in kabul

A picture taken of the three jugharoo's outside my home in kabul in October'09. The tentatively named jugharoo traveling club comprises of 5 members (two Srilankans, one Indian, one American and one New Zealander- age span from 25 to 63)who happened to be in India around the same time, and dicovered their shared passion for silliness and travelling. So started the club somewhere in 2003/4 with the years filled with friendship, travel, adventures, discoveries and ofcourse silliness. More about TTNJTC or jugharoos to follow.

Movie Nights

Our personal theatre, since there isnt a cinema hall that we can go out. Having movie nights at home during the winter is a much needed recreation

The Drama queen's bringing in 2010 :)

one of the widow's group centre

This is one of the mosques's or taqiyakhana where the widow's association groups holds it's meetings. The mullah ocassionally accompanies the women when they go meet families for mediation

A member of the widow's association

Dont you just love her face, she is one the members of our widows associations, who mananged to negotiate with the local mullah to get space in the mosque to hold meetings with widows on women's rights.

Kabul Girls

Some of the Kabul girls who bring strength to me on tough days and add joy to the good ones

My Girls

This is for all the women who have been part of my life here. I would not have survived any of this without you. joy, grief, sharing, bonding, whining, bitching, celebrating, adventures, learning, exploring its all been possible because of you.

To begin with my HAWA team. You are am amazing group of women (and some men)who have held my hand as I began my afghanistan journey and been my teachers and mentors in the journey that HAWA has taken over the last 20 months and the way the program has evolved in the recent past.

I have learnt so much about life, life in afghanistan, friendship, solidarity, courage and so many other things from you. Proud and honoured to be part of this team.

This was a picture taken at Bagh-E- Barber where CARE organised a women's eid celebration and for the first time i had almost all the 160+ women who are part of my team there in one physical space to just celebrate. A day in the sun, with lovely conversations, music (when it worked) and food.