Sylvia's Journal

Last night I finally managed to get Skype to work and talk with Axel, rather than me writing and he talking. Getting the settings right for Skype remains a bit of a hit or miss approach as settings appear to change spontaneously.

During the night I dreamt that I was visiting Barak Obama in his home which was a middle class row house and not at all presidential. I remember being surprised how laid back the place was and how easy it was to communicate with him. Having access to the American president in my dream was a whole lot easier than having access to the senior people at the ministry. I would like to sit down with them for a conversation about reconnecting the system to itself – but we don’t seem to be able to secure an appointment.

Today the Kabul provincial team is meeting downstairs in our office for a three day leadership development workshop. The participants are collectvely responsible for healthcare in Kabul province. One would expect this team to have an easier task than the other provincial teams but the opposite is true. Because of the high concentration of NGOs, clinics, hospitals and private health facilities, Kabul is expected to be well provided for. This is true for people who have the means to access these but for the urban poor most of these resources are out of reach. They are worse off than their rural cousins in far flung areas. At least this is what I learn from Steve when he welcomes the participants and opens the workshop.

I am also asked to say a few words and am introduced as Teacher, with a capital T. But now I am not teaching; in fact I am not even coaching. Dr. Ali is lead facilitator, teacher and coach. His team members are from the government – the same two women who have been with us since I arrived. I watch them run the show, from the sidelines. The capacity to run leadership development programs has been successfully transferred and as far as I am concerned, it is sustainable. The facilitators are Afghans and they will remain in Afghanistan. Who employs them or who pays the bill for the workshops does not matter; someone will, for the foreseeable future.

At lunch time MP and I request a car to take us across town to Wazir Akbar Khan. We are looking for the Thai massage salon where I had such a wonderful massage (described in the post Kabuli-Thai). I had misplaced the telephone number and somehow all the women who would have known it have left the country. This is not a place where you can simply look in the phonebook to find an address or phone number. You have to go to the neighborhood and ask around. So that is what we did.

We have set our minds on getting a massage that is long overdue. We stop at a Thai restaurant in the area expecting to get an address and a phonenumber. We do. We decide to stay for lunch. An armed guard with a bullet-proof vest lets us into a small yard populated by a dozens of unusual and colorful pigeons, a large hawk in a cage, an aviary with various small parrots and other colorful birds and small cages with single canaries singing at the top of their lungs.

Some of the pigeons have jingle bells on their feet. In the middle of the jingling and chirping menagerie lies an enormous dog with what looks like orange-spray-painted paws and chest. We are told he is a fighting dog. He must have been up fighting all last night because to us he looked like an exhausted friendly giant taking an afternoon nap in the sun.

MP, bird lover, is in seventh heaven. She excitedly points at a carbon copy of her own Diego in the aviary. She stays outside talking with the birds (I think she speaks their language) until the overpriced and not very remarkable Thai food is served. After lunch we find the massage place but it is closed. We will make an appointment tomorrow, for Friday, MP’s last day here.

I observe the rest of the workshop in the afternoon and study more Dari. I am learning the central words that are used in our program and am beginning to recognize enough words that I can sometimes understand the topic that is being discussed. The power of immediate feedback and appreciation makes learning a language in country so much easier than doing this back home. Every new word is greated like it is the greatest victory and people are starting to speak Dari to me, slowly, leading to more new words that are filling up my little notebook. I have many teachers now.