I was given a tour of the stepchild of the ministry of health: its administrative and personnel services. I was shown offices with doors that hardly held together, dimly lit hallways with toilets I was told to avoid. Inside a series of grungy offices I saw tons of people, most poorly paid following cumbersome and possibly meaningless bureaucratic processes that revolved around these millions of files. There was an urgency about the work that escaped me.
Some offices were project offices, and thus received donor monies. You could tell instantly because the places were brighter, with flatscreen computers and orderly files that had already been scanned and entered into data bases. They also had staff who addressed me in English and was eager to explain what they were doing.
It was as if I had gone on a field trip to a very remote district. I was allowed to take pictures, even encouraged, except where there were women. Those I would ask and sometimes they said no.
The health retreat where the HR staff will be presenting about their dismal state is potentially an opportunity to change things but the well educated and paid staff is so stretched and overwhelmed that they can’t give time to preparing for the event and delegating the presenting to others not part of the hierarchy.
I tried to explain the symbolism of not having the chief present but I don’t think I got that message across. The folks over there are in survival mode and that makes it hard to think strategically or symbolically for that matter.
I was invited for lunch at another directorate in a better equipped part of the ministry, across the courtyard. It is the department where I used to spend many hours during my trips here as a consultant.
We sat around the table enjoying the fried fish from the ‘hut of desire,’ I had visited late last month. We were two women, Diana and myself and the rest men. I asked how it was possible that here women could eat side by side with the men but in our office they could not. None of the answers were compelling and so I still don’t get it.
After 6 hours of meetings at the ministry, while all of central Kabul was in total gridlock because of Ahmedinajan’s visit, I made it back to the MSH compound for another 3 hours of work to prepare for the handover of my responsibilities for the next 10 days and another long video call with Boston.
And now I am officially exhausted and on vacation, rohsat they call that here.
Sylvia's Journal 
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