It is freezing cold in the early morning and evening hours now. When I walked into my diesel-heated office at 7 AM I was instantly nauseous and opened the door to the outside to get rid of the fumes. Unfortunately this also lets in the cold air.
I walked around with a headache and sore throat for most of the day and kept my window and door open. I was told to give it a couple more days for the newness to burn off but I don’t know if I can hang in that long. I am longing to have the stove removed and go back to using a tiny electric heater.
It is sobering to realize that my suffering is minor compared to people who have no heat at all. This includes colleagues who work in the ministry of health and are requesting the purchase of gas stoves because the electrical circuit cannot manage the many electrical heaters people have been bringing in from their homes. I asked what happens if I don’t sign these request forms (one of my new responsibilities is signing such slips of paper). The answer was that I am leaving people out in the cold. So I sign.
We are entering another period of intense speculation and rumors that surround the inauguration. I have never been in a place where there so many rumors and so few ways to check on the veracity of them. There are few newspapers and most I cannot read (yet); our TV provides only news in Dari or Pashto and so we can only guess. But apparently even to those who can understand the language the rumors cannot be confirmed or disconfirmed.
Our security people have decided to close the office on Thursday for all staff. This means working at home. The senior staff have laptops and modems and so they should be able to work from home just fine. Those below them have not.
I am giving our two administrative coordinators homework: they have to study two chapters of the Managers Who Lead book. There was much giggling about such an assignment. To make sure it is taken serious I have put Dr. Ali in charge of checking on the homework, more giggling.
At 5 PM my teacher showed up. By then it was dark and cold and there was no way I was going to have a two hour lesson in my fume-filled office. I was nauseous and tired. We went upstairs in the main building to sit in one of the many offices that have air conditioners mounted on the walls (‘koolers’). These can both heat and cool a room, very efficiently, quietly and without any fumes. Unfortunatelt I cannot have one of these in my office because the electrical circuit cannot carry such a load.
In today’s lesson we covered verbs that start with the letter ‘A,’ about 30 of them. If there was more than one Farsi word for an English word, as was often the case, my teacher would write the additional meanings not between brackets but, as he calls them, between barricades. The many years of conflict run deep here. I don’t think he knows his own country without barricades.
Sylvia's Journal 
Dear Sylvia:
I like reading your blog and your learning process about how simple things in the world are very complicated in Afghanistan.
It is getting cold as you describe. I think of the village people that have nothing or are in a military attack area, or are on the run, maybe in “displaced persons” camps, just trying to stay alive. As I sit at my keyboard on the Central Coast of California, with the sunshine on my deck and heating up my room, I just wish Americans here in the U.S. could just for one day, walk in the sandals of an Afghani villager. We’ve spent over 221 Billion USD in Afghanistan since 2002, most of it on our soldiers and the weapons of war. Enough is enough.
Thanks for your posts, you are one of the few who actually report from the scene. As for your heater, I think the fumes will always be there, you will just get used to them. String an electricity line from somewhere and plug your heater back in.
Best to you,
John
Hi John, I don’t think American (those who haven’t traveled outside Europe and the US) could ever imagine the life of an ordinary Afghan, especially a poor one. Even my colleagues in the ministry, who are considered elite and well off, are asking for simple and basic necessities that we take for granted, like heat when it is cold; or people in public service asking for a paycheck. I read the other day in the NYTimes that the cost of a soldier is about 1 million per (what? day, week, month?) the dollar amount is so astronomical that I can’t even grasp it, not here, not there, not anywhere. Still pulling everyone out now is no solution either. I can’t think of what is. Enjoy the sun on the deck. sounds lovely.
cheers
Sylvia
Hello Sylvia!
You don’t know me but an old friend, Nancy Akerley, visited my wife, Sandy, and me the other day and mentioned you work in Afghanistan, directing me to your blog. I ma fascinated with being able to read on-the-ground comments about the situation there.
Besides our mutual acquaintance, there’s another thing we have in common. I too was a trauma inpatient at UMass Memorial in Worcester. I spent a few days there being treated for a chest injury that shattered several ribs and punctured my lung. So there!
I am looking forward to your future posts. Best wishes,
Bill Thoms
Lanesville
Hi Bill, nice to meet you this way. So you are a survivor too – I guess it means there is something else for us to do. This is what has taken me to Afghanistan – a kind of deep knowing that this was the right move, despite many people declaring us crazy. But I love it here, despite the lockdowns and limited freedoms. We can leave if we want to, that in itself is the kind of freedom most people in this part of the world don’t have.