People at the conference ask me what new skills I am learning. I finally have some down time to think about this question in ways I have not before. I think I am much more aware of the American cultural biases in our work and in the ‘solutions’ that are proffered to Afghanistan from the West. I also think that I need to learn better coping skills, better stress management, exercise management and all that. Coming home from Afghanistan is stressful in ways that is different than living in Afghanistan. It has something to do with coming down and turning off.
During my flight from Boston to Albuquerque I tried to sort out my return trip, and Axel’s, in the presence of way too much ambiguity (will we get our passports back in time, for example). I realized I was like a tightly coiled spring. By the time I landed in Albuquerque, late because of high winds here, I had missed the kick off dinner, and was ready to crawl into bed and have a really good and long cry. I felt rather sorry for myself; this is not how I imagined passing my R&R. I don’t feel like I am resting or recuperating quite yet.
I think my final R&R will start when I get on the plane. We are not doing something right. And, given the wedding event at our next R&R, I am not sure how to right this during our next trip.
Seeing old friends last night at the conference opening activity got me out of my funk. I had a late dinner in a more authentic Mexican restaurant that the one we lunched at in Beverly on Tuesday. I had a real taco that looked and tasted better than any I had before. Magid accompanied me and we talked about working in a Moslem society and how our life has changed.
This morning, responding to the exhortations of my new acupuncturist, I rose at 5 AM and went for a walk around the campus. It takes exactly 45 minutes. It was a sensual delight, in the quiet pink dawn and the cool air. Given the (mid day) heat, dryness and altitude this could have been Kabul. Given the absence of razor wire, blast walls, sand bags and armed opposition groups, it could not.
Sylvia's Journal 
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