Sylvia's Journal

The best thing that happened yesterday was seeing an ecstatic Maria Pia in the hallway of the office. Her big smile meant that the long wait is over and she can fly back to the US with her new Afghan family. Said had received the necessary stamps on his paperwork last week but Wafa remained problematic. For forty-something males (who would have been involved in one form of fighting or another over the last 20 years) getting a visa to the US is nearly impossible. For a moment it looked like little Said could come but Wafa, the closest he has to a parent, would have to stay behind. It was heartbreaking and there was much agonizing and crying.

But then suddenly the forces of the universe conspired and Wafa, Said and Maria Pia will be on their way to their new US home on Monday. We are looking forward to host them in Manchester in the next few weeks. They have never seen the ocean.

The evening has just started back in Manchester but here in Kabul it is early morning and we are all packed and ready to go through the leaving-the-country-by-plane routine. I counted about 10 checkpoints for women 12 for men on my last exit. This time we will be leaving through the new terminal.

The balance between my old and new job has shifted in favor of the new one. In the morning we talked with one of the director generals about where the advisors of the capacity building team will sit when I get back in September. This includes me. Even though sitting in the ministry is less cushy than sitting in the MSH office, it makes so much more sense, since we are supposed to be advising and coaching our counterparts. They want us there, but for many reasons, some I don’t know, the move never materialized.

I have been given my first assignment, writing the new job description for our team leader who sits in the contracting unit of the ministry. The project director wants to ratchet up the management and leadership strengthening work, which is my responsibility. There are some colleagues who still believe that this is a little fluffy. I will have my hands full with them to harmonize and streamlining what we mean by ‘strengthening management and leadership.’

We celebrated our last night at house 26, hosted by Paul who always knows how to get beer and wine. The abundance of such liquids in this otherwise dry place was astonishing. The lively crowd was dominated by Belgians, mostly Flemish and one French speaker. They switched back and forth between the two languages in rapid fire; sometimes so rapid that it took my brain about 30 seconds to recognize which language was being spoken. Axel received a thorough history of how Belgium got to be a bilingual country.