Sylvia's Journal

I sometimes forget what it is like to be in the company of women. My young friend Sabera who I met just over a year ago at a conference in Dhaka had invited me to a lunch with 4 of her (female) colleagues and friends to say goodbye before she goes off to Dhaka to get her MPH from BRAC University’s School of Public Health.

High up on the fifth floor of Central Hotel we sat in the sun overlooking the ‘new city’ section of Kabul, just about level with one of the magnificent forts that is perched on one of Kabul’s many hills.

While helping ourselves to a spectacular buffet lunch that Sabera offered us we talked about what it is like to work in a society that doesn’t recognize that it cannot right itself without its women. Here I was, once again, with a bunch of phenomenal women who are professionals and making a difference against so many odds.

I can’t remember anymore all the things we talked about but I do remember basking in the warm sun and the glow and spirit of these women, one old (like me) and the rest much younger. One of them has a brother who has become a Dutch citizen, speaks fluently Dutch and lives in Groningen. We will meet sometime when he comes for a visit. Another Dutch-Afghan connection.

One topic that comes up a lot in conversations here is all the people we work with in the ministry are doctors, few know anything about management or leadership (yup) and many look down on nurses and midwives.

But even female doctors can sometimes be less than kind to their non-doctor sisters. Status does get in the way. There are plenty of tales of doctors, male or female, who cannot accept the oftentimes superior practical skills and advice of nurses and midwives- even if it may kill the patient.

At my Dari class I learned to go shopping for a ‘ser’ of sugar (a measure for flour and sugar representing 7 kilos) and ask for change from a bill (‘black money’). Some of the shopping language I had already learned on the street and so we sped through the lesson at breakneck speed.

During the break between classes I met a Dutch woman whose Dari was far superior to mine. In fact she is trying to write a curriculum about autism in Dari for psychiatric nurses. This place and its various inhabitants continues to surprise me.