Sylvia's Journal

“Learn the nouns,” said a colleague in my dream. It was about learning Japanese, but of course my mind was preoccupied with Dari. I would be an awkward speaker, just nouns, but it would help. I would add the Dari word for ‘to do’ plus a noun to make the verbs. A vocabulary of a 1000 words would be a good start. Which 1000 words is not clear yet, that is where I would need guidance. Now, with only 4 days to go, it feels too late for such an exercise. Of course as soon as I am in another linguistic environment the urgency will disappear. But yesterday the urgency was real as it was another total immersion into this language; even at the very top, the nature and dynamic of the conversation changes completely depending on whether it is in English or Dari. It is obvious to me that I either have to remove myself (as an English speaker) or stay in with enough Dari to understand the general gist and get myself understood. The speaking about work-related stuff would be harder than the understanding.

Aside from immersion in Dari (which will continue the next 3 days), yesterday was also an intense day of immersion into the inner workings of the top tier of the ministry; or maybe it was not the inner workings but the outer, visible manifestations of the inner works by its senior staff. I was reminded why I like to work with senior management as much – there is a sense of powerlessness that I feel can be remedied if only people learn to better talk and think together.

I prepared a PowerPoint lecture – yes I can do that if I have to – that was primarily drawn from Bill Isaacs work about dialogue and the dynamics of senior leadership teams. Much of the conversation was about system dynamics – Afghanistan is like a laboratory with lots of balancing and reinforcing loops. The fundamentalists throwing acid into the faces of young girls walking to school is one such a balancing loop. My intent of the team retreat was to help people see the invisible so that it can be incorporated into the decision making. The other intent was to show why teams are needed in a complex environment like this, especially at the top. We did not get the intact team in the room so the relationship building had to wait; but I think we made a start by at least revealing what results each one is held accountable for and what contributions each department wants from the other.

Every so often I saw signs of collusion with patterns of behavior that may have been set a long time ago and that have gone unquestioned or even unchallenged. Of course as an outsider it is easier to question and challenge exactly because I am an outsider. Whether my questioning makes any difference remains to be seen. I see myself as a gardener, putting seeds in the ground. I have no idea which ones will sprout, or which were not viable in the first place.

If anything took root I might see something in the next few days. Today a big and costly conference starts that brings together a significant portion of health movers and shakers (and non movers and non shakers). The event will be in Dari, except the part I am supposed to facilitate but I have decided that it is better if my counterpart does it. Each time I conduct a session in English I find everyone, even very smart and wise people, reduced to passive recipients of my supposedly wise words; it’s partially about politeness and partially about an ingrained behavior pattern in the presence of experts; the latter is a major handicap. If I can get away with it I will coach from the sidelines.

After a late meeting at the ministry with the DGs about their role in the conference, Ali and I waited in the dark and the cold within the perimeter of the ministry compound, for our ride back home. Ali went for prayers and left me close to a cluster of His Excellency’s guards. He felt I was in good hands with these high level protectors. I would not be able to tell a protector from a bad man, especially in the dark, but felt safe nevertheless. There was much coming and going of expensive SUVs and one minibus ambulance with a red blinking light; a donation from the Islamic Republic of Pakistan it said in big letters painted on both sides of the vehicle. I don’t think there was a patient in it, since the ministry is not a hospital. It disgorged some people and then rushed out again; it is clever way of cutting quickly through the heavy rush hour traffic I suppose.

Back home I found Guesthouse Zero transformed. Maureen, with the help of cook and cleaner and with the permission of Steve, had raided his stash of carpets, helmets, shields, and other knick-knacks that were stored in bags and closets inside and outside his room. They decorated the entire house which now looks like a fancy version of a Chicken Street store. It will provide new arrivals with a quick overview of things that can be purchased here. Steve told us it was only a very small part of his collection, and that most is still in bags and drawers.

Over dinner I reported out about my day. We concluded that we, development types, have created many of the problems that we are now trying to resolve. We invoked time and hope and tried not to be too cynical. That was reserved for the three pieces by Kipling Steve recited to us. One was a poem, over a hundred years old, entitled The White Man’s Burden. It was written at the time of the US occupation of the Philippines; the other were two are ballads about the gruesome mercy and jest of Abdhur Rahman, an early ruler of Afghanistan. Compared to that, living in Afghanistan now seems a little better in spite of everything.