Sylvia's Journal

A Saturday here is like a Sunday back home. As a result I got all mixed up with days, dates and even the pills from my pillbox that is marked by days of the week. The carefully prepared agenda I had copied this morning had all the days and dates wrong; so much for aiming for perfection. Of course, in the end such little things don’t matter.

The second set of training of trainers (TOT) workshops has started and it is an entirely Afghan/Dari affair. While last week there was still some effort to use English, all that is now out the window. My role is supporting those who support the facilitators, so I am far removed form the action.

Of course I still regret that I cannot understand anything of what is being said. This is both good and bad. I miss the conversation. I can’t figure out why they are suddenly laughing but on the positive side I don’t feel any need to interfere or correct. As long as people come out of here knowing how to facilitate the Leadership Development Program without lecturing through the material, all will be well. I’ll be inquiring about this at the end of each day.

The Kabul climate at this time of the year is difficult for my body, my head in particular. It is true that I arrived with a cold. But since I got here, my cold has manifested itself in a different way each day: a stuffed up nose or a runny nose, pressure below my eyes or above, a dry cough or a productive cough, a tickle in my throat or a painful cough that comes out of my chest, or any combination of those symptoms. Mirwais had offered me some wonder drug (an antibiotic) that has to be taken for three days but I decided to wait it out until the cold begins to interfere with my work. So far I have been able to function despite the coughing and sniffling. One thing that has been very helpful to me is that there are Kleenex boxes everywhere. Every horizontal surface, both at work and at home has at least one box of Kleenex, including our high table set for the three speakers at the opening ceremony, the DG for Provincial Health, the head of the Capacity Building unit of our project and myself. Instead of bunches of plastic flowers that so often decorate such high tables, ours was decorated with three boxes of Kleenex, one for each of us. I used mine gratefully.

Yesterday I concentrated on preparing the facilitator notes for the teams that will facilitate the provincial TOT. There were many loose ends, such as who is doing what, which made it a little difficult for me to prepare. I decided to write very detailed facilitation notes so that even the least experienced facilitators can manage by simply following the steps.

At the end of the afternoon I went to House #26 to use the rowing machine. I rowed 5 kilometers in 26 minutes, on fairly low resistance. Most of the time I had my eyes closed, imagining myself on the Charles River where I know the distances between places. Thus I rowed past the MSH office, past the pedestrian bridge, the Radcliffe Boat House, the Northeastern Boat House, then all the way to the Elliot Bridge and back. I discovered I could bend my ankle enough to push off the foot rest and so I think I can try to row in a real boat on water when I get back. It felt quite good to exercise for 30 minutes. It is the first exercise in more than a week.

After replenishing liquids and finishing Fred’s book in the sunshine in the back yard, it was cocktail hour. Paul had invited me and my house mate to join him and Brad in cleaning out the accumulated leftovers from two refrigerators (of both Guest Houses). This way our cooks can start afresh on this first day of the new week.