Sylvia's Journal

President Karzai is going to Washington. He will be accompanied by some of his ministers, among them the Acting Minister of Public Health. In the afternoon I attended a meeting with her Excellency, some of her best and brightest staff and people representing the US government. It was an interesting meeting with the Afghans getting a dose of reality from the Americans about what the speeches should say: the American tax dollars are (well) used to bring about a more stable Afghanistan.

At first, when the Afghans were told that the people they will meet in DC don’t care about whether life is better now for an Afghan woman or small girl, I could see their startled look. I was a little embarrassed because it presented America’s generous giving in Afghanistan in a rather stark and ugly light: pure self interest.

The prepared pieces that have to serve as input to various speeches, by the President and the Minister, prepared during long evenings by her Excellency’s staff were shredded to pieces. I felt sorry until I was volunteered to re-write them, after hours and in my spare time but also during my last day here before leaving for Holland. There went all my good plans to empty my mail box, write handover notes and get my desk in order for a week’s absence. Steve was also volunteered and taken off the flight to Bamiyan tomorrow; he will be very disappointed as opportunities to go places outside Kabul are rare.

If the afternoon was characterized by politics and speeches that will pry loose more money for Afghanistan’s development, my morning was characterized by hope and warm and fuzzy feelings. I attended the opening of the 6th Annual Congress of the Afghan Midwifery Association. For once the men were outnumbered by the women.

Several hundred young midwives from nearly all of the provinces (none from Helmand) had come to Kabul to upgrade their skills, encourage each other, feel the strength of numbers and show the men why they are a critical part of Afghanistan’s attempt to reach the Millennium Development Goals number 4 and 5 (child and maternal health).

During the opening ceremony a group of students dressed in traditional Afghan outfits from various parts of the country sung the Afghan midwives’ song, alternating Dari and Pashto couplets. The midwives in the audience held hands high above their heads and swayed back and forth while singing along. Knowing neither the words nor being able raise my arm (the angle was exactly wrong for me), I swayed along with my arms by my side while watching the hopeful faces with pain in my heart, so much goodwill in an environment of so much badwill.

I quickly spotted the Dutch women (most tall and blond) in the audience (the Dutch organization CORDAID is one of the sponsors of the Association). I recognized Mariette who I first met here in Kabul in 2002 when the previous MSH project presented its data from a massive health survey that is still being used as baseline for the post-Taliban government, revealing what was at the time the world’s most dismal health situation.

Mariette is also the daughter of friends of my parents (now all deceased), whose little brother Joost was my very first date ever at my parent’s wedding anniversary ball. I think we were both in our early teens. It was a very innocent date. I think we may have danced, me in my first long skirt, sewn by my aunt the seamstress: glow-in-the-dark-green with hot pink flowers, Joost in a jacket with tie, possibly his first.

I was very inspired by the young midwives and their energy. If there is hope for Afghanistan it lies with them. But I am also worried about their role models, the older midwives, my age, who are true pioneers, fighting an uphill battle for recognition, rights and support for what they are doing. I think these women are burning out and our only hope is this next phalange of women who are ready in the wings.

Later, back at the ministry, I spoke to one of the few men who had been at the opening. He congratulated the midwives on their excellent organization and inspiring opening program. I told him that this was just one taste of what could happen in Afghanistan if the men would let the women run the place for a while: organization, discipline, energy and inspiration. He nodded; he is one of those men who agrees on this; there just not enough of them in high places.