Canine Mine Action Heroes!

Winter is coming, so we've heard. 

The snow first appeared on the mountains surrounding us, but Kabul stayed dry as a bone. As the temperature dropped, people started burning coal, wood, rubbish, tires, even nastier things to stay warm, and the air got worse than Shanghai and Beijing. But one day recently the sky cleared and we remembered the beauty around us:

The first real snow came yesterday, thick flakes that aren't melting any time soon as the temperature hasn't gotten above the freezing point since. Yesterday also happened to be my first real exciting site visit since the EOD demolition up in Mazar - a trip to one of our implementing partners to meet some US-funded mine detection dogs (MDDs). 

35 MDDs (German Shepherd and Malinois) have been helping the Afghan de-mining NGOs sniff out landmines for several years now, and the dogs have reached retirement age. The plan is to repatriate them to loving homes, since adoption is less likely here in Afghanistan. But in order to repatriate, they need medical records showing they don't have rabies. And in order to do that, they need blood samples to be processed by a reputable organization. And in order to do that, we had to call in Nowzad Dogs, a very cool animal charity founded by a former British soldier who'd served in Nowzad District, Helmand Province. It's the only thing of it's kind here.

Two very impressive people in the photo below: Pen Farthing, center, founder of Nowzad Dogs; and Dr. Malia, left, one of only two female veterinarians in Afghanistan.

The main point of my being there, besides making contact with our NGO partners and personally being very excited to meet the Nowzad team, was to check on the MDDs - they are a US-funded asset, you see. A report went in the grant file that the dogs had gained weight in the last month and that they were generally improving in health as they prepare for repatriation. All in a day's work.

In Memory of Those who Went Before

In Kabul time, a lot can happen in a month, especially when your whole tour is only twelve months.  So much can happen politically, and the security situation can change overnight.  Socially, if you leave for two weeks, you might come back way behind the curve on who said what to whom, who is spending time with whom, etc.  As one friend said, "In college equivalent, three months means we are sophomores already!" 

In the last two months since writing, I took a vacation to England, organized a return trip to Mazar (more on that below), and nailed down my onward assignment with EAP/MLA back at main State starting September 2015.  My Nanny (maternal grandmother) passed away, and my sister gave birth to the first child of a generation.  So I don't have grandparents here on earth anymore, my parents have become grandparents, and I'm now solidly in the "grown-ups" group.  

In his graveside eulogy, my uncle quoted Tom Brokaw on The Greatest Generation: "They may walk with a little less spring in their step, and their ranks are growing thin, but let us never forget - when they were young, they saved our world." 

When my grandparents married in 1945, they were young First Lieutenants, with a war not yet won and facing the prospect of invading Japan, which they might not have survived.  I don't know which challenges were harder, theirs or ours today.  Global state on state war, or the chaos of states disintegrating faster than we can prop them up?  All I know is, there's important work to be done here in Afghanistan and I'm glad to be here at this time.

One of the projects the Department of State funds here is Conventional Weapons Destruction (CWD).  An NGO with specialized skills in this field responds to call-outs from the army, the police, and local communities when UXO or weapons caches are discovered.  Last month the grants officers from Washington visited, the security situation held, and we finally got our site visit up in Mazar-e-Sharif.  No helos this time, but we drove 30 minutes outside the city to a detonation site to watch the team in action:

Anti-personnel landmines, one giant anti-tank landmine, and a lot of mortars whose measurements I can't remember.  Pretty terrifying stuff to see all collected together, and enough explosive material to cause this: 

When the team was ready to detonate, we got in the armored vehicles and withdrew about 500m.  First we saw the black cloud go up, then we felt the car shake and heard the explosion.  Wow!  Grants money literally up in smoke - but saving lives.

With the retrograde process marching on and military outposts closing rapidly, this kind of trip might not happen for me during the rest of the tour.  We'll see.  But I'm thoroughly glad to be serving here and supporting Afghanistan's transition.

From the Compound to the Camp (or, the most acronyms ever used in a post)

Earlier this week three ISAF servicemen in Kabul were not safe and sound - they were traveling through the intersection on the northwest corner of our embassy, and a suicide bomber with a vehicle full of explosives attacked their convoy. Not only did the suicide bomber kill two Americans and one Pole, he wounded several Afghan citizens. The Coalition losses in this conflict are great indeed. But the numbers of ordinary Afghans suffering are even higher now.

I was not in the city when this attack happened - I was at Camp Marmal, a large German-run base that formed the HQ for the Balkh Province PRT and also hosts the U.S. Consulate in Mazar-e-Sharif. The general overseeing retrograde and firing range clearance issues invited me to join his trip to visit U.S. Army Corps of Engineers (USACE) work and to attend an Afghan National Army Engineering School (ANAES) graduation ceremony. Why not? Never turn down a chance to learn something more about the world outside Kabul.

With the consolidation of coalition forces into an ever-smaller number of bases, Camp Marmal is a mix of U.S. and northern European troops - not just Germans, but Swedes, Finns, Latvians, and Dutch. Just like the home countries, there are a lot of tall blonde people riding bikes around Marmal.

It's hard sometimes to get one's mind around the seemingly contradictory activities that are going on here. We visited a USACE office, where they described new construction projects for Afghan bases that are keeping a number of local people employed even during the drawdown. But the same afternoon we visited two units of young National Guards, tasked with deconstructing massive base facilities and shrinking the camp, Detroit-style, to something the Afghan National Security Forces (ANSF) might be able to handle on a leaner budget. 

The general drove out to the edge of the camp to see them, asked where they were from (Ohio and Wisconsin), praised their work, cast the strategic importance of what they were doing, and did a beautiful job of encouraging them in a long, lonely task.

A squad leader shared with the general that her team had increased their efficiency to recover 95% of the material from a standard tent-like building. The general affirmed her squad's efforts and emphasized that every government entity had to count its pennies - we couldn't just abandon everything to the dust and wind.

So this is how wars end these days. Taking down all the metal and canvas that formed a base, even down to the plumbing and electrical wiring. 

Next door to all this deconstruction is a brand-new engineering school for the ANA, Camp Shaheen. The soldiers there are learning facilities maintenance (to be able to run all these bases they are inheriting) and explosive ordnance destruction (EOD; to destroy all the IEDs that insurgent forces use as their worst weapon). The general watched a demonstration of road building and spoke at the EOD class's graduation ceremony.

My military colleagues estimated that about 50% of the 74 graduates we saw would return and pass the final course, "IED Defeat." This sounded a lot like the final round of a video game to me, but it's no game - the ANSF lose at least 4 soldiers every day to IEDs. After receiving their graduation certificates from their Colonel, each student would raise his certificate in the air and shout "I will aid Afghanistan!" We are all hoping they will succeed.

Oh yeah. I got to ride in a Blackhawk helicopter between the bases and fly over the Salang Pass region on the way back. Thankful for every experience.

Safe and Sound on a Compound

Update time! 

I've been in Kabul 16 days now, but it's really a stretch to say "in Kabul." I'm living on a compound with hundreds of American officers, local Afghan staff, TDY LES from places as diverse as Belize to Ethiopia, and Nepalese Gurkhas patrolling around. That's right, real Ghurkas. It's really a small town with a lot of bunkers and high walls. They try to make it livable, with giant posters of scenic America on the walls and wildflowers planted in little corners, but at the end of the day, it's a compound. 

If you want to go a little farther, you can go to the ISAF compound, which is right next door to my housing. It's larger but more concrete and industrial feeling. Still, they have a permanent bazaar, an Italian restaurant, a salon, and a chapel. Every day helicopters fly in and out, which is still taking some getting used to. I tried their DFAC ("dining facility") today just for variety. And when I am desperate for something more, I'll cave and pay the concierge service to bring some real food from a real local restaurant. Just have to remember to order one day in advance!

Because of security restrictions, there are no photographs allowed on compound, with the exception of your "hooch" (CHU - containerized housing unit) and the official seal of the embassy. So, I present to you my new home, a standard container sized room with my own bathroom. It's pretty much like going back to college but dustier and with metal walls. I even dug up my old college dorm stuff - same sheets, same quilt, same bucket for washing dishes.

This was the scene the day my UAB arrived - chaos! Things are a little more orderly now. 

Some little touches - favorite family photos, knick knacks, and a little scenic America magnet collection  above my kettle and mugs (metal walls).

It's pretty different from the lovely apartment tower in Shanghai. Just the basics. But it's all one really needs.

Although it's true that the security and walls can make you feel stuck, the CLO (community liaison) here does a tremendous job of organizing everyone's talents so that we have far too many clubs, gym classes, dance and game nights, and bazaars to ever attend. And I'm luckier than most because my job takes me off compound for official purposes. More on that to come!

Renewal in the Desert

Who doesn't love a good road trip? The kind with wide open spaces, towering scenery, and a collection of good stories at the end? I was lucky enough to do that with a best friend from childhood last month.

A lot of Foreign Service Officers take road trips while on their Congressionally-mandated home leave in between assignments, not just to reacquaint ourselves with the homeland, but also....you are sort of homeless for 4-6 weeks. It's easy for me because Mom and Dad lovingly keep a room prepared, but for families with kids this is actually very difficult. Anyway, after a visit with extended family and friends in San Antonio, my friend Kristen and I hit the road for a week of camping and national parks in West Texas and New Mexico. 

 Kristen and I like to plan trips. As in, we made a Google Doc about this months in advance. And researched maps and driving times and campsites. We maximized our short time to include Big Bend, Big Bend Ranch State Park, Guadalupe, and Carlsbad Caverns National Parks. Some highlights:

 Hiking along the Rio Grande in Big Bend as a thunderstorm approached.

So many kinds of cacti, and all more colorful than I'd expected.

Our campsite at Guadalupe Mountain was just charming. 

 BLUE SKIES. The color that skies are supposed to be.

We did some excellent hiking - 13 miles around the South Basin in Big Bend, to the top of Guadalupe (only 8,749 ft, but the highest in TX and in 100 degree weather...), other short hikes to historic homesteads and petroglyphs. And each night we'd make dinner on a camp stove, watch the moon and stars come out, and be grateful for all the beauty around us. No cell phone service, no problems. 

We even crossed paths with an old friend from Xishuangbanna days, Rebecca, who has literally written the book on West Texas:

I've talked with friends for many years about how we need longer in-between times to process everything when you leave one part of the world and journey to a new place and season. Like travel by ocean liner instead of airplane - seriously! Right before this trip I'd gotten some hard news and then was sick for many days, and this in-between time of pure air and healthy adventures became a time of renewal. A time of closing more than one old chapter and getting ready for new ones. A time of growing stronger. 

Numbering the hours; hurling towards the future

Four weeks ago I experienced my second pack-out in the Foreign Service, said goodbye to the U.S. Consulate General Shanghai, and wrapped up yet another a shorter-than-expected chapter of life. A standard two-year tour became 18 months in order to make it to Kabul in time for a mandatory overlap with the officer I'm replacing. When I'd applied for the Kabul position, it was one of three on my list, and the only one that required curtailment. "It's not a big deal," I thought, "what's the difference between 18 or 24 months when you have to leave anyway? It was always going to be temporary."

Definitely a bigger deal than I thought. It was surprisingly hard to say goodbye to everyone. Now, last week one of my local staff told me on WeChat 微信 that they'd broken the 5,000 visas/day barrier and everyone was exhausted, so I'm not exactly devastated to be missing that. But overall, life had become very good in Shanghai.

The final two weeks were a whirlwind of activities and dinners and staying late to finish a few projects, and there was just enough time to feel satisfied with finishing well (or well enough). A karaoke night. A Consulate-wide BBQ. Drinks with coworkers. Multiple farewell dinners. It was generally an upbeat time for me, and I felt a little awkward if anyone would express dismay and grief at parting. But recently this explanation about pre-grievers and post-grievers explained it all. I'm enjoying the moment right up until leaving, and then after it's all over, BAM, grief hits.

By the way, packing out your belongings is way more stressful in a foreign language.

Nothing like needing the words for "bubble wrap" or "long term storage" to open one's eyes to the gaping holes in one's vocabulary. I'm still discovering every so often that such and such an item ended up in the sea freight to Hagerstown, so I guess I'll just do without for the next year or so.

 Moving is not getting any easier, which is a big issue for a long-term career, but I don't think it's ever supposed to get easy. Because beyond the next diplomatic post, or any other kind of move or personal upheaval, we increasingly long for a day of restoration of all loss, in "a better country, that is, a heavenly one." 

"I am sifted through the fingertips of God’s transcendent hand

I am numbering the hours on the hourglass of man

I am hurling toward the future with a bullet in my chest

Oh, I feel the sting, the longing, running for that final rest

And I saw our home

For the first one was gone,

and every good thing was restored

And the sea was no more, and the sea was no more."

Sandra McCracken, Hourglass

“I am sifted through the fingertips of God’s transcendent hand
  I am numbering the hours on the hourglass of Man
  I am hurtling toward the future with a bulllet in my chest
  Oh, I feel the sting, the longing, running for that final rest.
  And I saw my home, for the first one was gone, every good thing was restored
  And the sea was no more, the sea was no more.”
- See more at: http://www.tollbooth.org/index.php/past-issues/past-music-reviews/884-mccracken-sandra-desire-like-dynamite#sthash.MDHLsoyL.dpuf

“I am sifted through the fingertips of God’s transcendent hand
  I am numbering the hours on the hourglass of Man
  I am hurtling toward the future with a bulllet in my chest
  Oh, I feel the sting, the longing, running for that final rest.
  And I saw my home, for the first one was gone, every good thing was restored
  And the sea was no more, the sea was no more.”
- See more at: http://www.tollbooth.org/index.php/past-issues/past-music-reviews/884-mccracken-sandra-desire-like-dynamite#sthash.MDHLsoyL.dpuf

“I am sifted through the fingertips of God’s transcendent hand
  I am numbering the hours on the hourglass of Man
  I am hurtling toward the future with a bulllet in my chest
  Oh, I feel the sting, the longing, running for that final rest.
  And I saw my home, for the first one was gone, every good thing was restored
  And the sea was no more, the sea was no more.”
- See more at: http://www.tollbooth.org/index.php/past-issues/past-music-reviews/884-mccracken-sandra-desire-like-dynamite#sthash.MDHLsoyL.dpuf

Where did four months go? (retro blogging)

Woah, it's April. Four months since the last blog post.

After Chinese New Year I switched into the American Citizen Services section, which has been a very worthwhile experience but has consumed a lot more time outside normal working hours. Dealing with a drunken American who got himself in the local media. Flying to no-name cities to execute a repatriation loan for a hospitalized teacher. Uncovering a fraudulent claim to citizenship. All of these cases are really team efforts, though - we all share the load and pick up slack.

It's also four months 'til arrival in Kabul, Lord willing. Got my travel orders today, so that means 7ish weeks 'til PCS. I started off the winter strong trying to work out and learn Dari, but now I just want to enjoy things here while I can before it all comes crashing to a halt. There's a lot going on here:

 A friend from both grad school and the 168th A-100 came to visit, which was the perfect reason to finally go see Hangzhou.

 Engagement parties...lots of engagement parties

Dinner parties for my small group - creative uses for all those Starbucks mugs

A Royal Ascot party?! You see a theme here. What a ridiculously charmed life we expats are living.

 

The Poetry Party, perhaps the most wonderful of all so far. One night at a friends' farewell dinner, we got to talking over dessert and coffee about our favorite poems. Someone said we ought to have a poetry party, and it actually happened. In fact, it's probably going to be legendary.

But then there are farewell parties - alas, it will happen to us all.

A few weeks ago I was at a working group for stakeholders in mental health treatment here, and one of the doctors stated that "Shanghai is a city of excess." An excess of options for entertainment and food, bars and music. Glitz and glamour, grasping and guanxi. Excessively tall buildings, prestigious schools, outrageous property prices. But there are also quiet lanes with birds chirping and laundry drying, secret gardens and historic houses, bakeries and brunch spots, Europeans on bicycles, and the pleasure of running into a friend on Saturday morning at the Avocado Lady. It's a lot to take in sometimes. But a lot to be thankful for too.