Sylvia's Journal

It seemed that I was wearing the Afghan equivalent of hot pants today. I discovered this when I alighted from the car in front of the ministry of health, after my colleague made a comment about women and pants. It took a while to sink in and then I suddenly felt very naked in my mid-calf length dress.

Women were casting fleeting glances at my bare half calf and exposed ankle and men were looking, smiling and then looking away. Unfortunately there was no turning back as I was heading in for a meeting. I tried to bend my knees a bit to bring the hem of my skirts at least an inch or so lower.

This transgression was far from my mind when I put on the dress in the morning. Next time I will have to wear it with some leg covering underneath. I am not sure leggings will be acceptable, so maybe it is back to pants. This is how I had to dress as a little girl in 2nd grade in the middle of the winter: a skirt or dress with pants underneath. I hated it because I thought I looked stupid. I am less interested in looking fashionable now and I am slightly intrigued that my bare ankles and calves might be objects of desire.

The mountains around Kabul were crisp and clear all day today after a night of rain in the city and snow higher up. They looked beautiful and made me want to go for a hike. Of course hiking is out of the question. Between threats of kidnappings and mines, the most beautiful places will remain out of reach for now.

We are continuing to complete our new house with requests for small things like toilet brushes and salt and pepper shakers. Unlike back at home, we can’t just get into a car and drive to the shopping center to take care of everything once and for all. Axel made a trip out of the house with the cook, armed with a dictionary, since they can’t speak each other’s language. They are learning the names for food items and vegetables in each others’ language while filling up our refrigerator.

Our first houseguest will arrive on Wednesday and so we are trying to get his room ready with good lights, extension cords and heat while preserving our own privacy with some last minute purchases that will keep us warm without having to open our door to the diesel-heated hallway and adjacent rooms.

In the meantime at work I am trying to stay at the 30.000 foot level while juggling immediate needs of my own staff, our counterparts in the government and those who pay the bills at the 10 cm level. I am thoroughly enchanted by that challenge as I think it can be managed. This is the stretchy part of my assignment here as I get to put in practice all the coaching advice I have been delivering to senior managers around the world. It’s both a test and a confirmation of what it takes to get off the dance floor and stay on the balcony, as Ron Heifetz suggests to those in senior positions.

For the first time in my life I am looking down from the balcony to the action down below and am resisting the urge to head down there myself. It is not only a natural urge on my side, there is also a pulling that is going on, please come down! In the meantime I have been looking around me and notice that all the light switches are up here, not down below. How’s that for mixing metaphors!