Sylvia's Journal

Although Saturday is my new Sunday, a day off for us expats, the government of Afghanistan is at work. Whenever we work with government officials, this means that we work too and swallow our day off. Since I am still very much in orientation mode, I made another trip to the ministry to meet with some of my key stakeholders.

First I met with the team at the grants contracting and management unit, for a rehearsal of their quarterly report of accomplishments, challenges, opportunities for improvement and next steps. After that I met with two of the 6 director generals as part of my mandate to work with senior leaders, but also to understand their perspective on how things are going and what needs attention in the relationships between our project and the ministry.

I am learning some fascinating things about differences of interpretation and perspective, which both causes and explains irritations that don’t seemed to be communicated in a way that is actionable. I can play dumb, as the newcomer, and ask questions that insiders cannot ask (anymore).

This is a country where a high degree of surface politeness, especially towards foreigners, but also towards Afghans employed by foreigners, is highly valued and where directness is risky and if not risky, at least difficult. Still, I have met a few people who are very frank with me about things that are not working as they should; maybe I am the (temporary) opening that presents itself now and they are taking advantage of. I consider that a good thing.

It is so easy to misunderstand (an unintentional consequence of communication) or leave things vague (an intentional act). I find many examples of such vagueness or misunderstanding. Working across languages does not help although sometime is serves as a convenient excuse.

There does not seem to be a habit of taking notes of conversations and sharing them. It is extra work but a good discipline for me to model. Since I have to practice everything I preach, I have to give a good example and not only write but also circulate my notes with the risk that they are wrong or cause more irritation. With all the conversations I am having, this has produced a bit of a backlog of notes to share. I will have to catch up in the evening, as tomorrow the work week starts again.

The car sent out to the ministry to pick me up was delayed because of traffic jams. Having the choice of waiting an undetermined time in the middle of a dust storm or jump in another car that was bringing my only female colleague to the other side of town, in high rises near the airport, I chose the latter. As a result I spent nearly two hours in the car. Right now I don’t really mind as it takes me ‘out of the bubble’ as some people call our highly choreographed interactions with Afghan society.

On the way home I stopped at a supermarket, mostly out of curiosity, and picked up some tonic and Becks pretend beer. That was the beer I liked best in the months after the accident when we were not drinking any alcohol at all. It brought back memories to that intense period in our lives. At that time did get used to non alcoholic beer; being in a strict Muslim country I know I can do it again.

Last night Ankie and I had dinner at Razia Jan and met old friends and new ones, among them a young American woman whose field is environment (ecotourism) and gender; this seems like a tall order right now in Afghanistan and I was therefore not surprised that she is currently without a (paying) job.

Internet access is still missing in the guesthouse and Steve lets us use his special line to the office server when we get desperate. It does mean I am rather out of touch; at least the cell phone works and we remain connected to each other and security, just in case something happens.