Sylvia's Journal

I have an active dream life, which should not be so surprising in a period of such intense transition. Last night I had a series of dreams that were all about transformation; all images were about one state turning into another. There are many attempts at transformation going on here, from individual habits to the systems that keep this country from being the normal democracy that most people want so badly.

My dreams are rudely interrupted every morning between 4 and 5 AM when the muezzin calls the faithful to prayer. The call in my neighborhood is made with an echo. I can just imagine the preacher going to the loudspeaker store and being shown his options. He must have really liked the machine that produced the echo, hearing his voice multiple times, repeating first and then trailing off into the distance.

My morning (and evening) routine still includes shoulder exercises and since I have decided that the home-visit-physical therapist wasn’t adding anything worth 40 dollars a visit, I am my own physical therapist for now, and thus harsh with myself about sticking to my exercise regime. I have the schedule of exercises (new ones, and which to drop), week by week, taped to the inside of my door. Tomorrow it will be 9 weeks post-op and I am ready to move into strength training. I am scouting around the guest house for something weighing about 1 pound.

I made contact with the only female physical therapist I know of in Kabul, who practices out of the military hospital in Wazir Akbar Khan. I am going to ask her to check up on my exercise regime from time to time to make sure I am not getting into bad habits that work the wrong muscle groups.

I spent most of the day in meetings which are not boring yet because I am still learning and trying to understand what this project is all about. I am starting to get used to being the only female; I think it gives me an edge as I can say things no one else does, like verbalizing the mood or feelings of a group. Clearly that is woman’s work. I hope some of it rubs off.

I am seeing a side of the project that remains fairly well hidden when you swing by from time to time as a consultant: the constant demands from this or that stakeholder group for information (needed right now!), requests to provide logistical and administrative support for highly visible visits by senior functionaries from Afghanistan and the US (with all their protocol requirements), and funding of this or that activity, not quite part of our mandate, but an easy way to channel US funds into gestures of goodwill. I am still mostly fascinated by all this but I can see how it distracts from what’s in the work plan; yet in terms of effort from senior staff, it is a big part of the job.

Two of my expat colleagues have gone off to India for their quarterly R&R (rest and recuperation). It is an important benefit to be let out of the country from time to time and wander around freely in another place. They both needed it badly. This leaves Steve and me on post, surrounded by a steadily increasing pool of consultants who are flying in after a two month ‘no fly’ period because of the elections. Guesthouse zero is filling up rapidly with Steve and Greg from the US, Ankie and me from Holland and Haran from India. As always, it is a wonderful mix of stories when we meet at night around the dining room table.