I supposed many of you who follow international news in a fairly regular way have noted the upsurge AOG (armed opposition groups) activities in Afghanistan over the past months, and in particular over the past weeks. Working in Afghanistan, and deeply caring for this country, I have been following events over the past ten months, but even more so since the tragic incident on the 13th of August, that involved the death of four IRC staff members and serious injuries of a fifth staff member. There are several things that extremely worry me when looking at the developments that have marked Afghanistan over the past months. Among them are the declining immunity which the aid community used to enjoy during the past decades. It seems that AOG distinguish less and less between aid workers, international military forces, contractors, etc. We all seem to be equally spies and enimies to them. On the other hand, traditioanl mitigation strategies such as ensuring community acceptance dont seem to work any longer. Communities that used to guarantee our safety because the appreciated our work increasinly tell us that the just can't do so any longer. And in Afghanistan, being a foreigner (which includes foreigner to the distrct, i.e. an afghan from another province working in a district he/she has no family relatives in) AND having no local support networks means being wihout protection. More than everything else, what is worrying is the fact that more and more traditionally "safe" provinces have turned into no go zones over the past months. Whereas the surroundings of Kabul used to be fairly safe, Taliban activities in these provinces has increased tremendously over recent months. The fact that Wardak and Logar, two provinces just outside Kabul are nowadays labelled as the new Kandahar and Kunduz speaks for itself.
Although most analyists predict that Taliban could not take over Kabul as they did 13 years ago, due to the strong presence of international and national military forces, there is a question on how long these forces would endure a mere stalemate before retreating. As a friend of mine has pointed out recently, Afghans are good at many things, but one thing they are particularly good in is waiting. Time doesnt seem to count in Afghanistan, which means that AOGs might not mind at all in simply "sitting it out". While IMF might stand against them for some time, NGOs might retreat rather quickly. Already now, I know from several friends of mine who are considering leaving afghanistan before the end of their contracts, or at least not extending their contracts. Recruiting qualified people under the current circumstances will be a mere nightmare for NGOs.
What unsettles me the most is the inability of the world to effectively support change in afghanistan. Opportunities have been missed over and over again. In 2003 for instance, at a point when the afghan population showed a relative strong support for change and a new government, we failed to provide the neccessary support to make things happen. Instead, we turned on Irak. In the meantime, Talibans, who were never really defeated (after all, nobody knew how many taliban there were to begin with) retreated to the border areas along Afghanistan and Pakistan, where they reformed. A come back was not difficult. After all, the communities had been waiting in vain for change, a change and development that the government had not been able to deliver.
Even now, after eyeopening months, the international community is not able to step up. Instead of pulling ressources together for larger interventions, few thousend additional troops are discussed every now and then. What people dont seem to realize is that what could be achieved with a certain amount of ressources and committment today, might take triple, or even more ressources and time tomorrow.
I am not per se supporting military interventions, but in a case like Afghanistan, I know that a complete retreat of military forces is defenitely not the solultion. Trying to distance ourselves (the aid community) from the military forces also does not seem to make sense. After all, we are already regarded as part of them. Instead, I believe that a way forward would have to include a in depth conversation between all actors involved in Afghanistan, in particular local authorities who are still supportive of change. One thing that we should not forget is that we can facilitate, but we cannot determine the actions that will lead to a better Afghanistan. In addition, I dont think that it is the right time to negotiate around ressources. Last but not least, one of the most important aspects of any successful way forward has to look at the region as a whole, in particular Afghaniststan and Pakistan.
If we don't step up now, we will loose out on yet another opportunity.
(there is a very well written article on the guardian on Afghanistans recent developments
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
In the air
Life is always a journey.
This part of my journey will be the last journey for Shirley. We (two friends from IRC and I) didn't succeed to get on the same plane that takes Shirley home to Canada, but at least we are able to be in the air at the same time, accompanying her in spirit and mind on this long journey half way around the globe. I have reached Dubai few hours ago, and will soon continue to New York, where we will stay for a couple of days before moving on to Vancouver.
Flying out of Kabul was never as difficult and as relieving as it was today. Difficult, because it brought once again to my consciousness that the happenings are real, not a dream as I tried to make myself believe over the last days. Relief, because every corner in Kabul and around Kabul reflects the memories of Shirley, Nic, Jackie, and Ajmal, making it painful to keep my eyes open when driving through the city, when sitting in the office, when having coffee in one of Kabuls coffee shops.
The why-did-it-happen is still unanswered.
This part of my journey will be the last journey for Shirley. We (two friends from IRC and I) didn't succeed to get on the same plane that takes Shirley home to Canada, but at least we are able to be in the air at the same time, accompanying her in spirit and mind on this long journey half way around the globe. I have reached Dubai few hours ago, and will soon continue to New York, where we will stay for a couple of days before moving on to Vancouver.
Flying out of Kabul was never as difficult and as relieving as it was today. Difficult, because it brought once again to my consciousness that the happenings are real, not a dream as I tried to make myself believe over the last days. Relief, because every corner in Kabul and around Kabul reflects the memories of Shirley, Nic, Jackie, and Ajmal, making it painful to keep my eyes open when driving through the city, when sitting in the office, when having coffee in one of Kabuls coffee shops.
The why-did-it-happen is still unanswered.
Wishing I could turn back the clock and make the happenings unhappen
Dear Friends,
I assume that most of you (or at least those of you who follow news) have heard about the tragedy which occurred here in Afghanistan last week. Four staff members of the organisation I am working for, IRC (three international program staff and one national driver) were brutally killed in an ambush just one hour south of Kabul. A fifth person, the driver of the second convoy, was injured but luckily survived and is well of.
I was on the same road the same day ( I was heading south, they were heading north, we swapped cars in between half an hour before it happened), and was eventually evacuated back to Kabul. It is still extremely difficult to grasp what happened, and why it happened. I wish I would have the energy to write down all the thoughts which have been going through my head since it happened, as well as my feelings (which cover the whole range from anger, sadness, disbelieve, shock, and relief to be alive), but at the moment, I am just not yet able to do so. I might put up some few notes on my blog over hte coming days.
This email is to let you all know that I am ok, as ok as one can be after such a tragedy occures. I also would like to thank all those of you who have contacted me either by telephone, email or skype over the past days, expressing your condolence, but also your anger and shock over what happened. Even though I didnt respond to many emails, it meant a lot to me reading your notes, and in some cases, for those of you who are here in KAbul, even talking to you last night during the memorial serviceRegarding my future, I am currently completely unsure where I will head to. As much as I still adore Afghanistan for its history, its people, its great landscapes, I am desillusioned by what happened. These three courageous women have done nothing wrong, instead, they have tried to reach out to communities, wiht education programs and programs for children with disabilities. Given my current feelings, as well as the level of scare (yes, for one of the first times in my life, I am truly scared; security really deteriorated over the past months, the entire country seems to be completely out of balance; it doesnt help to know about all these sick guys out there, who are able to kill unarmed women, claiming they are spies), i dont think that I can stay much longer in this country if I want to keep a glimpse of sanity.
Tomorrow or aftertomorrow I will head to Vancouver, to accompany (together with another good friend) the remainings of my friend and colleague Shirley on her last journey. After that I will head home to italy, spend some time with my family, with close friends, learning again to walk on the street without being immediately alerted by anything that is slighlty different from the normal. After that I might come back to Afghanistan, for few more months, supporting my organisation in transitioning into a new phase. After that, I am not sure what I will do. Maybe continuing a similar work in more secure countries. Maybe escaping into the alps and working as a trekking guide (something I have been dreaming of since I was a kid); maybe just some travels for a while; or maybe settling down, taking on a normal job and getting some kids on my own. As said, I am quite undecided on what to do next.All what I know for now is that I am happy to be here, happy to be able to write you these lines, and knowing that I might at least see some of you again one day. And more than everything else, I am happy that I have had opportunity to get to know three great and inspiring people, Nicole D, Shirley C and Jackie K.
Peace
Johanna
I assume that most of you (or at least those of you who follow news) have heard about the tragedy which occurred here in Afghanistan last week. Four staff members of the organisation I am working for, IRC (three international program staff and one national driver) were brutally killed in an ambush just one hour south of Kabul. A fifth person, the driver of the second convoy, was injured but luckily survived and is well of.
I was on the same road the same day ( I was heading south, they were heading north, we swapped cars in between half an hour before it happened), and was eventually evacuated back to Kabul. It is still extremely difficult to grasp what happened, and why it happened. I wish I would have the energy to write down all the thoughts which have been going through my head since it happened, as well as my feelings (which cover the whole range from anger, sadness, disbelieve, shock, and relief to be alive), but at the moment, I am just not yet able to do so. I might put up some few notes on my blog over hte coming days.
This email is to let you all know that I am ok, as ok as one can be after such a tragedy occures. I also would like to thank all those of you who have contacted me either by telephone, email or skype over the past days, expressing your condolence, but also your anger and shock over what happened. Even though I didnt respond to many emails, it meant a lot to me reading your notes, and in some cases, for those of you who are here in KAbul, even talking to you last night during the memorial serviceRegarding my future, I am currently completely unsure where I will head to. As much as I still adore Afghanistan for its history, its people, its great landscapes, I am desillusioned by what happened. These three courageous women have done nothing wrong, instead, they have tried to reach out to communities, wiht education programs and programs for children with disabilities. Given my current feelings, as well as the level of scare (yes, for one of the first times in my life, I am truly scared; security really deteriorated over the past months, the entire country seems to be completely out of balance; it doesnt help to know about all these sick guys out there, who are able to kill unarmed women, claiming they are spies), i dont think that I can stay much longer in this country if I want to keep a glimpse of sanity.
Tomorrow or aftertomorrow I will head to Vancouver, to accompany (together with another good friend) the remainings of my friend and colleague Shirley on her last journey. After that I will head home to italy, spend some time with my family, with close friends, learning again to walk on the street without being immediately alerted by anything that is slighlty different from the normal. After that I might come back to Afghanistan, for few more months, supporting my organisation in transitioning into a new phase. After that, I am not sure what I will do. Maybe continuing a similar work in more secure countries. Maybe escaping into the alps and working as a trekking guide (something I have been dreaming of since I was a kid); maybe just some travels for a while; or maybe settling down, taking on a normal job and getting some kids on my own. As said, I am quite undecided on what to do next.All what I know for now is that I am happy to be here, happy to be able to write you these lines, and knowing that I might at least see some of you again one day. And more than everything else, I am happy that I have had opportunity to get to know three great and inspiring people, Nicole D, Shirley C and Jackie K.
Peace
Johanna
Saturday, August 2, 2008
A cup to fold
To all camping and trekking gear and gudget addicts out there: I have discovered a "new exciting - you must have it - ultralight and small" gudget: foldable camping cups, presented above by my brother. They are also available as plates and bowls. Definitely a must for all those who care about the weight of their Rucksack and the innovatism of their equipment :)
Crazy days
Do you know the feeling of being in the wrong film? This feeling that something is wrong with the world around you? That it can't be your own doings alone that got you into the situation you are in?
I am just returning from a conference in Oxford, and though the conference was great, with interesting people, exciting topics and inspiring discussions, the last two days were a pure disaster.
It all started on Friday morning. Or no, let me wind back. It actually already started on Sunday evening when I tried to plug in my laptop and realized that the power cable burned once again (thanks to the irregular and unpredictable power supply in Kabul). That not enough, I realized that my pts (outlook) file iwas full, but the only way I could access it and delete files from it is by opening my outlook on my computer. Which I couldn't, until Wednesday, when I finally managed to get a power supply cable.
But since computer problems aren't really anything new to me (they are the only constant parameter during all my work related travels), the last two days had some disasters of new scale ready for me. Lets wind forward to Friday morning again, when I woke up with a slight headache and a blurred memory of our previous nights' discussions around life saving and threatening issues, which were pured down with just a bit too much of cheap wine. Because I had a slight headache, I didn't particularly worry when my colleague from Afghanistan who joined me for the conference didn't appear at breakfast. Even once the sessions started and she still wasn't around, I didn't worry too much but rather let myself induldge by a presentation about indicators (don't we all love them?)
But when it got cloase to eleven am, and she was still not seen, I did get a bit concerned. Somehow I managed to cleaner to open the door of her room, and what I found was deeply troubling. Her keys left on the table, her travel bag with few cloths of little value underneath the table, but other than that, void. At lunch time I had to leave for Heathrow, trying to catch my plane to dubai. Still no trace of her. I winded back the last few days, and slowly the consciousness creeped into me that she might have decided to "dive under", realizing a dream that many Afghans dream: to leave Afghanistan forever, for good. But why choose a free ride on the back of my organization (and my own hard work to get her the visa for this conference?). I travelled to the airport, disappointed and desillusioned with everything. Could I blame her for taking what many Afghans are longing for? For a life elsewhere? I stared out of the window, thinking that I might see her somewhere. But I didnt. There were just faces of strangers passing by the windows of our bus. Her departure did not make sense as much as it did make sense. I imagined her walking down the stairs of our Hotel, early in the morning, before everybody left for breakfast. Did she smile? Feel guilty? Did she wonder what I would think once I realize that she is gone?
Completely trapped in thoughts around living here or there, I didnt immediately notice when the girl at the check in counter took a strange look at the two pieces of my pass port. Blame on me, it had fallen apart just few days before I left for Oxford, and since I had managed to talk my way through the immigration in Dubai on my way to the conference, I had expected the same thing to happen on my way back. But no, not so this time. The girl, without even asking me (bitch!) called her supervisor, who again called Dubai, to confirm that they would not accept me with a passport that is broken into two pieces. And Dubai confirmed! So there I was, suddenly without valid travel documents! I felt like crying (I actually did cry) hoping that my tears would be felt by the immigration officers in Dubai. At nine pm, when the last plane for Dubai had left, my hopes had vanished. But realizing that tears wont get me out of this mess, a plan in my head had taken shape: Superglue! I got myself booked on a plane for Saturday (for free, at least the tears weren't completely vasted...) and spend the night at a colleagues house. Today I made it again to the airport. With a different outfit, hoping that they wouldn't recognize me. And somehow, it worked out. I succesfully hided my trembling hands when handing over the pass port to the guy at Heathrow immigration. I relaxed for five hours on the plane. Before, when passing through the Dubai immigration, I got nervous when the girl kind of looked one second too long at my passport. Superglue is great, but it does have limits and if somebody would add a bit of force to my pass port, it would certainly fall apart again. But I managed to get throug. Now I am in the arrivals hall, waiting for few hours before moving on to the next terminal to check in on my Kabul flight.
I am tired, but the happenings of the last two days make it difficult for me to sleep. It's these moments when I am just wondering about my life. I recently listened to the beatles song "a long and winding road" and exactly that's what it seems to be. Long and winding. Winding it forward and backward, it often doesn't make sense to me, but I guess at the end of the day, everything has a meaning in life. For one thing is sure, getting over the fact that my colleague has left without a trace, but with with our - unknowing - support, will take me some time to get over with, and finding the right meaning in it will take me a very long time.
I am just returning from a conference in Oxford, and though the conference was great, with interesting people, exciting topics and inspiring discussions, the last two days were a pure disaster.
It all started on Friday morning. Or no, let me wind back. It actually already started on Sunday evening when I tried to plug in my laptop and realized that the power cable burned once again (thanks to the irregular and unpredictable power supply in Kabul). That not enough, I realized that my pts (outlook) file iwas full, but the only way I could access it and delete files from it is by opening my outlook on my computer. Which I couldn't, until Wednesday, when I finally managed to get a power supply cable.
But since computer problems aren't really anything new to me (they are the only constant parameter during all my work related travels), the last two days had some disasters of new scale ready for me. Lets wind forward to Friday morning again, when I woke up with a slight headache and a blurred memory of our previous nights' discussions around life saving and threatening issues, which were pured down with just a bit too much of cheap wine. Because I had a slight headache, I didn't particularly worry when my colleague from Afghanistan who joined me for the conference didn't appear at breakfast. Even once the sessions started and she still wasn't around, I didn't worry too much but rather let myself induldge by a presentation about indicators (don't we all love them?)
But when it got cloase to eleven am, and she was still not seen, I did get a bit concerned. Somehow I managed to cleaner to open the door of her room, and what I found was deeply troubling. Her keys left on the table, her travel bag with few cloths of little value underneath the table, but other than that, void. At lunch time I had to leave for Heathrow, trying to catch my plane to dubai. Still no trace of her. I winded back the last few days, and slowly the consciousness creeped into me that she might have decided to "dive under", realizing a dream that many Afghans dream: to leave Afghanistan forever, for good. But why choose a free ride on the back of my organization (and my own hard work to get her the visa for this conference?). I travelled to the airport, disappointed and desillusioned with everything. Could I blame her for taking what many Afghans are longing for? For a life elsewhere? I stared out of the window, thinking that I might see her somewhere. But I didnt. There were just faces of strangers passing by the windows of our bus. Her departure did not make sense as much as it did make sense. I imagined her walking down the stairs of our Hotel, early in the morning, before everybody left for breakfast. Did she smile? Feel guilty? Did she wonder what I would think once I realize that she is gone?
Completely trapped in thoughts around living here or there, I didnt immediately notice when the girl at the check in counter took a strange look at the two pieces of my pass port. Blame on me, it had fallen apart just few days before I left for Oxford, and since I had managed to talk my way through the immigration in Dubai on my way to the conference, I had expected the same thing to happen on my way back. But no, not so this time. The girl, without even asking me (bitch!) called her supervisor, who again called Dubai, to confirm that they would not accept me with a passport that is broken into two pieces. And Dubai confirmed! So there I was, suddenly without valid travel documents! I felt like crying (I actually did cry) hoping that my tears would be felt by the immigration officers in Dubai. At nine pm, when the last plane for Dubai had left, my hopes had vanished. But realizing that tears wont get me out of this mess, a plan in my head had taken shape: Superglue! I got myself booked on a plane for Saturday (for free, at least the tears weren't completely vasted...) and spend the night at a colleagues house. Today I made it again to the airport. With a different outfit, hoping that they wouldn't recognize me. And somehow, it worked out. I succesfully hided my trembling hands when handing over the pass port to the guy at Heathrow immigration. I relaxed for five hours on the plane. Before, when passing through the Dubai immigration, I got nervous when the girl kind of looked one second too long at my passport. Superglue is great, but it does have limits and if somebody would add a bit of force to my pass port, it would certainly fall apart again. But I managed to get throug. Now I am in the arrivals hall, waiting for few hours before moving on to the next terminal to check in on my Kabul flight.
I am tired, but the happenings of the last two days make it difficult for me to sleep. It's these moments when I am just wondering about my life. I recently listened to the beatles song "a long and winding road" and exactly that's what it seems to be. Long and winding. Winding it forward and backward, it often doesn't make sense to me, but I guess at the end of the day, everything has a meaning in life. For one thing is sure, getting over the fact that my colleague has left without a trace, but with with our - unknowing - support, will take me some time to get over with, and finding the right meaning in it will take me a very long time.
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