Sylvia's Journal

A big bad man was killed last night near the Herat airport. Allegedly he was responsible for much of the latest spate of mischief here. I was told that my new presence here had brought good luck; people seem to be happy he is gone. I hope that no one else thinks I have anything to do with the act.

I discovered that this luck I have supposedly brought is not necessarily good and might actually be very bad. It all depends on who killed him. Arabs were on his case because he tried to contain them, said one of my colleagues. Arabs here are the real bad guys, so if they killed him it means they are no longer contained and things may get worse. On the other hand if he was killed by government or international forces, then it is indeed good news. But even then, I assume, given his association with one of the more powerful warlords in this area, the story is far from over.

Unfazed everyone is going ahead with the preparations for the high-power visit tomorrow. We patiently answer calls that now come in nearly every 15 minutes to make sure there are no surprises. This is of course a tall order in this country but we do our very best. As the only non-Afghan and only American citizen on the team here, I received a special call to keep my eyes open and do whatever I can to make sure everyone follows the script, so carefully prepared over the last week.

It gets a little absurd at times. The provincial health director had asked school girls to sing a peace song at the entrance on the steps leading into the building. Panic on our side since it wasn’t in the script. With the risk of upsetting the entire apple cart we informed our contact on the US side and patiently answered all questions related to where these girls would be (inside or outside the compound), when and how many. At least we did not have to sing the song through our cell phones. It’s in Dari so we won’t understand what they will really be singing anyways. It may well be the Afghan version of Mary had a little lamb.

When we arrived at the provincial health office the provincial director informed us that the minister had asked him whether he could speak last, a spot already reserved for the US ambassador. Since they are friends we suggested that the minister and the ambassador talk this out between themselves and then decide. Frankly, we don’t care who ends the series of speeches but we do care about the response we’d get if we were to change the order.

There are rumors that the provincial government might be changed tomorrow. Since the governor will receive the Excellencies at the airport and deliver a speech at the event, everything is likely to be cancelled. Such a cancellation would be the fourth time of this very event in as many months, but never this late in the game. I do hope the decision will bemade before 5:30 tomorrow morning when the ambassador boards his US government jet in Kabul with his entourage.

Unfazed by this rumor (a very common occurrence here), we continue our preparations. Countless people were mobilized on their precious day off to prepare the event. In the morning after greeting everyone, we inspected the basement of the new building where the opening speeches will be given for exactly 50 minutes.

It is an enormous bare space, tiled and with large pillars in the middle. There is nothing to dampen the sounds from ricocheting around the room, no carpets, no draperies. Even our small group talking was an afront on the senses. When I mentioned this, the word carpet started to show up in the Dari exchanges around me and I instantly regretted having made this comment. I know who will be asked to pay for the carpets. I tried to withdraw my words but they are like flies, once flown off you cannot retrieve them.

Outside, large bulky couches were piling up. These are for the Excellencies who will be seated facing the rest of us. They will be addressed and addressing us from a side podium. After the festivities are over everyone will head towards the stairs to the ground floor, cut the ribbon (which, I was told was already cut once half a year ago by the builders and funder, the Italian government) and tour the still pristine building before heading back, exactly 50 minutes after the start of the opening ceremony, to the airport. I can’t imagine this will go according to script, especially the 5 minute speeches from Excellencies who usually talk a little longer.

After the protocol and seating arrangements had been resolved I headed upstairs to focus on something of much more interest to me: the actual learning sessions that are supposed to take place in this center in the near future. I had designed a session without powerpoints. Since powerpoints is the predominant delivery mechanism for just about anything I could see everything thinking (how can we have a session without them?).

Once I had explained the process everyone got excited. They divided the facilitation and preparation tasks between themselves and essentially my job was done. My only role now is to provide feedback at the end of the session, if so requested. Everything will be done in Dari so I can only judge success by looking at people’s participation and levels of energy. In the meantime I am studying Dari like crazy so I can at least understand what the conversations are about. I am making progress by the day as I find myself in company that constantly speaks Dari; total immersion indeed.