Sylvia's Journal

Archive Page 212

In stages

Published May 19, 2009 Home Leave a Comment

It’s a relief that the cat is out of the bag about my intention to live in Kabul for a year or so. Writing daily in a public blog without mentioning the momentous decision making process with all its ups and downs that is going on in the background was hard; but I was not ready to share this with the world. Now I am. Since the thought first occurred to me I have gone through the change cycle that I teach others and that is based on Elizabeth Kubler Ross’ work.

First comes the denial (“What? Me? Kabul? Impossible!”); then comes the phase of resistance with all its emotions, spine shivers and all that. So far the idea seems farfetched and part of me wants to draw back to the comfortable status quo. But there is also something pulling hard at me. I remember going through this phase late April, while in Kabul. I would be looking at the picture that serves as the header of my blog with Axel picking mussels. Give that up? Go to a country that has no ocean? Being restricted in our movements? A potential war zone?

After each of those ‘outings’ to things I would have to give up (or feared) there was a stronger pull that whispered to me about challenges, and making contributions, travelling less, being more with Axel, being able to deep dive rather than skim. And so I moved into the next stage, that of exploring new possibilities. It is then that I started talking with Alain, Axel, Alison (you start with the A’s) and heard their views on pros and cons.

Since Axel was let in on the secret a few weeks ago he is going through his own cycle. The most wonderful thing was that he did not say ‘no’ right away (although he was freaked out a little when I was going a little too fast). This too is what I teach others about change – watch out when you have passed the denial and resistances stages and are ready to explore – others may not be right behind you yet and be freaked out by your speed. They may get deeper into resistance.

And yesterday I arrived at the final stage, which is that of commitment: the application submitted, letting people know, and thinking about a trip to Kabul with Axel so he can start exploring himself.

People are supportive and excited – especially at work, where there are people who have lived ‘in the field’ as we say. They understand this tension between skimming and diving, seeing results from your work up close and working slowly at bringing about deep and lasting change rather than tinkering at the surface.

Of course I don’t have the job yet – it is possible that someone with even more of a leg-up applies – but the chances are good and so the application and offer is made with that in mind – a momentous decision rather than a cavalier move. Stay tuned!

Moves

Published May 18, 2009 Home 1 Comment

More gardening yesterday, despite the rain – it’s a good time to put things in the ground. We bought squash, tomatoes, tomatillos, cucumbers and some annuals at Tendercrop Farms in Newbury. Being that close to Chuck and Anne, innkeepers at the Water Street Inn in Newburyport, we stopped by to see them and check out how they and the inn are doing. They are noticing the economic down turn as well and for the first time have plenty of openings for this summer.

I missed the BU graduation, and thus did not get to see Nuha in her graduation robes. I thought I had already missed it last week, having extended my stay in Kabul. She will be moving back as an MPH to Saudi Arabia soon. I will miss her. We never got to do all the flying that we had imagined. I have a standing invitation to go camping with her in the desert. It’s on my list of destinations.

Our Canadian guests, Steve’s cousin Andrew and his girlfriend Britney, drove back to Ontario early this morning after a whirlwind weekend tour of Cape Ann under the expert guidance of Tessa. We celebrated Andrew’s 21st birthday last night with a 1000 calorie cheesecake from the cheesecake factory, decorated, as if it needed more calories, with crushed snickers bars and whipped cream. It was his choice of course. snickers_cheesecake

But the really big news today is that I submitted my application for a job in Kabul on our Afghanistan project as Technical Director for Management and Leadership. If get it, it means Axel and I will move to Kabul in September. We should know in about a month whether I got the job or not.

Bitten and smitten

Published May 17, 2009 Flying , Home Leave a Comment

I got my first mosquito bite of the season. It produced a huge welt on my forehead, as if someone had hit me with a baseball bat. It will serve as an inoculation against the many bites that will follow.

It was a mosquito that lived at the airport of Orange, MA, where Bill and I landed in the middle of the morning. It was a glorious blue sky kind of day, without wind, perfect for parachuting which is taught and practiced there. We watched the sky divers for a while; a wonderful sight as they twirled downward with their brightly colored parachutes. A grey haired gentleman stood by the fence intently watching the plane circling upwards for another round of jumping. I asked him whether he wanted to do that himself self and he answered yes in a way that indicated this was an impossible dream. Sigh.

I never felt a great desire in my adult life to do this kind of jumping although Axel and I did jump of a mountain in the French Alps, some years ago, on the back of our instructors. But somehow that’s different from jumping out of a plane at 5000 feet.

As a child I had a poster by my bedside that was developed by the Dutch dairy industry (or may be the Dutch Ministry of Public Health) to increase milk consumption by kids. Every time I drank a glass of milk I was allowed to cross off a small white glass in rows and rows of such glasses. Around the edges of the poster were pictures of various professionals with glasses of milk in their hands. There were only very few pictures of women in the poster (the nurse, the sales girl and the teacher) but one stood out: a young woman in a skydiving outfit. She became my heroine. I wanted to be like her and I drank all my milk to make that happen. Sometime during adolescence I lost that fervor and skydiving lost its appeal.

Bill and I took off from Beverly airport under special VFR because of the wall of clouds coming our way from the ocean. Westwards all was clear and sunny but we had to get through the wispy clouds and so I got to experience flying under stricter rules. Since it was new to me Bill did all the radio work. On the way back Bill had to request IFR clearance to land at Beverly and I was happy he was the pilot. I had already decided that an instrument rating is not something I am eager to do quite yet, and yesterday’s landing confirmed that; too complicated, and too much work.

In between the departing and arriving at Beverly I did a few landings at Gardner. This remains a tense experience for me, especially when I come in too fast and too high – but with coach Bill by my side (and Arne earlier) I have been doing pretty decent landings at my former crash site.

I made my usual phone call to Axel (‘the eagle has landed’) and drove home to see him mow the grass with his new machine as if it was actually fun (and fast). And then we drove to Gloucester to pick up a present for Molly and Brandon who were re-celebrating their marriage, about a year after the original ceremony – for friends and family in their old stomping ground of Salem. We picked a book of children’s stories by Virginia Lee Burton (from Folly Cove Designers fame) not knowing that a baby is on its way. We spent the evening with them, family and friends at the magnificent Hawthorne hotel in downtown Salem to celebrate unions, friendships and new life.

Pushing time

Published May 16, 2009 Home Leave a Comment

I am pushing the ending (mostly) and the starting times (hardly)of the day further out. I go to bed a little later each day and get up before anyone else does. It is vacation and weekend so starting the day a little later is better.

Yesterday morning I witnessed the arrival time of two travelers from Canada, Steve’s cousin and his girlfriend, who had travelled through the night westwards over the Upstate NY Thruway and the Mass Pike. When they arrived Lobster Cove was waking up and at its best: chirping birds, fragrant lilacs and lilies of the valley, a quiet cove and a deep blue sky– there is no better place to arrive after 12 hours in a car.

After they went to bed Steve left for work, Tessa settled in for work in her studio and I have no recollection of what I did after that. The only thing I have to show for yesterday is a slightly emptier emailbox, the new crown, a few less kinks in my muscles, a pile of Afghan shirts hemmed and thus now less likely to unravel in the wash, and the potatoes and lettuce in the ground.

In the process of planting we found some of the potatoes I had missed in my search last fall by their newly sprouted leaves. If we had had these potatoes for dinner our meal would have been entirely from our own land (and water): the striped sea bass Axel caught on Wednesday, arugula salad and potatoes.

And now it is time to sort out where Bill and I are flying to this morning.

Sleepy

Published May 15, 2009 Home Leave a Comment

I have been alerted by a faithful reader that I skipped an entry for today. I didn’t think there was much to say after the excitement of Afghanistan, the ski slope of Dubai and Dutch cheese.

Who cares that I had a new crown put in this morning, followed by an exquisite Abi massage (compliments of Axel) and then lobster salad for lunch on the terrace of the new restaurant in town?

But the salad was too much and I feel bloated and sleepy. Axel says that I should get up and walk and exercise but my body wants to sleep. I have been up since 5 AM so I think I am entitled to a nap. I’ll let Axel put the potatoes in while I rest my eyes for awhile.

New England spring

Published May 14, 2009 Home 1 Comment

New England spring can compete with Kabul spring – it’s just a little behind. It was wonderful to come home. Axel led me around the yard to see what had changed since I left. I ate asparagus right out of the asparagus bed –it doesn’t need any cooking. The garden is ready for the potatoes and chard; the parsley that survived the winter is already twice as big and the broccoli, also a survivor can be eaten right out of the garden as well.

We went for a walk, got a demo of Axel’s new high-powered toy (a second hand lawn mower), unpacked the presents (many of Tessa’s rings did not fit her), aired the two carpets, had dinner and I went to bed at 7 PM. While I was asleep Axel got a striper and Chicha had her first fishing experience which brought out the wild Dingo in her.

This morning the day is even more beautiful than yesterday. It’s great to be back home.

Smooth

Published May 13, 2009 On the road Leave a Comment
Tags: Holland

So far it has been smooth sailing. The only mishap is a broken nail from picking up my suitcase the wrong way. No lines in Dubai for checking in, a half full plane with empty seats beside us – a good night sleep, no turbulence and a smooth landing ahead of schedule.

We took the bus from Schiphol to the Aalsmeer flower auction, the biggest in the world. Steve had no idea what happens behind the scenes to get flowers from Kenya, Colombia or Israel to our neighborhood florist. Now he knows.

The auction buildings cover acres of space with 1000s of trolleys and hundreds of buyers racing against a clock so everything is bought, bagged and shipped to wherever the buyers are in the shortest amount of time possible. It’s a mindboggling logistics wonder.

Sietske picks us up at the auction and takes us home where Steve is treated to a spectacular breakfast of good Dutch bread, two kinds of cheese, fresh eggs , and thick creamy yogurt. We park Steve in the room where the orphaned ducklings are parked for the night (too cold without a mother duck) so he can rest from the long walk through the auction and a sleepless night in the plane. I take care of other stuff and drinks one cup of coffee after another , produced by Sietske’s fancy espresso machine.

Everything is in full bloom here. The lilacs and wisteria already finished and early summer flowers are out. I can’t wait to see our budding lilacs and that last asparagus.

Hot and cold

Published May 12, 2009 On the road Leave a Comment
Tags: Afghanistan, Dubai

Steve counts the number of check-points from our guesthouse to our assigned seats in the plane. There are 18 for males, fewer for females – we are not frisked as often. The only real security check was done by people from UAE, quite thorough compared to all the previous Afghan ‘checks.’ The latter are essentially forms of employment and opportunities for bribes.

The UAE check is a new step in the process, at the very end when we have already boarded a bus thinking that we are going to the plane. But we are not. We are taken to the new terminal that has not opened yet, even though it should have, months ago. While we stand in line, dogs are led into our bus – bomb sniffing dogs – this is not an agricultural inspection. I like it, although I wonder why the dogs look so skinny. I can see their ribs. In this country dogs are usually not man’s best friend.

While I sat in on the staff meeting of the general directorate for health I heard about an imminent campaign against dogs – there are many cases of rabies reported and the ministry has to act. The department chief in charge of this operation has been working with the Kabul municipal authorities to get the campaign organized. He lists the resources they need: plastic bags, gloves and strychnine as well as a bunch of vehicles. The dog catchers will swarm out over the city all at once and drive the stray dogs into corners. That is, I suppose where the strychnine is administered. I try to imagine the operation, the many dead dogs and the strychnine – it has all the makings of a good detective story.

The pilot of the plane is from Denmark and I must admit it made me feel better. He does turn right after takeoff and circles to gain altitude – as he should. The views are spectacular – blue skies and snow-covered mountains everywhere, range after range, reaching into the far corners of Central Asia.

A taped message in Arabic is played before we take off. I understand enough to know that it’s a prayer, asking for God’s protection. I hope it covers us infidels as well – we are after all in the same boat so to speak. In English we are simply greeted – hello, welcome aboard, hope you have a nice journey, thank you for flying Safi Airways.

The pilot tells us that the temperatures in Dubai are between 30 (early morning) and 40 (mid-day) degrees. I am slowly peeling off layers and headscarves – in the UAE they don’t seem to mind the look of female skin.

We drop our baggage off at the luxurious hotel and take a taxi to the creek where we board one of the countless small ferries to my favorite restaurant that is built over the water on the other side. It’s hot but the breeze keeps us comfortable. After lunch we take a taxi to the Emirates Mall where we check out the ski slope – a truly bizarre place full of pricy eating establishments and ice cream stores. One is called ‘the marble slab’ – predicting where you will end up if you eat too much of their ice-cold confections.

You can watch the ski fun from the bottom of the slope, the middle and the top depending on which floor you are at. If you want to get onto the slope you have to pay a considerable amount of money, don a rented ski suit (it’s cold on the slopes) and put on rented snow or ski boots. There’s even a store that sells skis, snowboards, ski clothes and other cold weather stuff next to the entrance.

The entrance fee is lower if you only want to wander around at the bottom of the slope and watch the small kids slide around. We spot a woman who wears a black burka over a bulky winter coat, complete with black headdress, a reminder that we are deep inside the Arab world.

Packing up and crossing off

Published May 11, 2009 On the road Leave a Comment
Tags: Afghanistan

Today has been a very intense day with long to do lists that could not be postponed, especially since I will be on vacation as soon as I land in Boston. There were more meetings, debriefings, feedback session, frank talk about things that disappointed or surprised me and attempts to reconcile various versions that different people describe to me of the same event or situation. I am still reconnecting the system to itself on my way out; there is much still to be done.

And then it was time to pack. In the process of opening suitcases and bags I discovered a small bottle of cognac that I had pocketed on the way over in one of the planes. It helped with the packing. The rugs for Sita (a Qala-i-Nao kilim and a Baluchi carpet) are packed in MPs duffelbag (allowing her to travel back with carry on only) which will be inconvenient until they are checked in in Dubai. I am glad I am traveling with Steve as getting on the plane in Kabul is a pain in the neck with too many controls and checkpoints and dragging heavy luggage around. He will have his share of heavy luggage but at least we can commiserate together.

I am so dead tired that I have no energy to write other than that this has been a great trip; I have met wonderful people; working here is hard but rewarding and despite the ugliness of war, the place is beautiful and I am drawn here in ways I am not to other places. Maybe that is because Axel and I became a couple here.

The sky today was deep blue; the roses are out and the grapes are recognizable as baby grapes, The mountains on one side of the city are still covered in snow reminding of winter while on the other side of the city the harsh mountains are softened by a light green veneer that says it is spring.

I am not sure when I will be back as this depends on other trips that are on the horizon. But it will be sooner than 6 months from now – such a long hiatus did not work, that is obvious. There are dynamics at work that require more frequent trips. I actually welcome that – it will allow for more and better connections.

First round of goodbyes

Published May 10, 2009 On the road Leave a Comment
Tags: Afghanistan

I am seeing from the other side what it takes to get the necessary papers for study abroad, even if it is only a four-week course. My colleague has been working for weeks now on getting the necessary papers to obtain other necessary papers to obtain the coveted visa stamp in his passport. It’s a daunting task that we would mostly acocmplish by telephone and fax. But here it requires going places and sitting in waiting rooms for hours. The to-do list is long and would faze even the most committed student. It all seemed so simple from the receiving end. I have a new appreciation for the hoops that foreign students who come to Boston University have had to jump through.

And so I was on my own while he was in hot pursuit of more signatures. I took the shuttle to the ministry where I now know the female checkpoint guard who wanted my red dress. I can find my way around without Dr. Ali and actually move much faster through the courty than when he is by my side. I find the office where the internal DG staff meeting is held which is about to start, right on time. I am to be a fly on the wall – which I can even say in Dari: magas ba dewal hastam.

Two people from the European Union are seated at the meeting table, the chief sits behind his desk and the rest, his direct reports or their deputies, sit behind the large table or on chairs that are pushed against the wall. It is crowded and sort of intimate. I find a chair in the furthest corner and try to be inconspicuous. I had not intended to be on the agenda but when the meeting is nearly over I am given the floor, introduced as ‘her excellency.’

I know one of the European consultants from my previous trip but not the other. So I speak carefully to avoid stepping on toes or give the slightest hint that I am encroaching on another donor’s territory. I am after all from the American camp.

I introduce myself as a psychologist and explain that my work is about group dynamics, rather than planning. This is a safe; I have not met anyone who explicitly deals with this part of organizational life and there aren’t many ‘rawanshenasa’ around, as my profession is called in Dari.

After the meeting and before I start my rounds of goodbyes I check out the newly renovated unit where two of our expat staff and a large group of Afghan consultants we have hired are embedded to support the ministry’s procurement and contracting work that involves significant amounts of dollars. I come to see how they do the ’embedding’ part. The place is clean, freshly painted and an oasis in the otherwise dingy and dark looking main building of the ministry.

I want to learn from them how we can make the move for the team I work with successful. Unfortunately, for the next batch there aren’t any obviously places to sit, or, even better, empty offices; there is no internet and the toilets are dirty. How this is all going to be worked out is unclear.

I visit the offices of the various officials I have worked with over the last 2 weeks and bid them farewell. It’s a little difficult because the work I did is far from complete – processes that take time, transformations (if they are possible at all) that cannot be orchestrated in half day conversations conducted twice a year.

When we get home we pour ourselves gin tonics with the complements of Steve and sit in the afternoon sun on the steps of Guesthouse 0 and catch up on each others’ workdays with a little bit of gossip thrown in for good measure. Dinner is of the ‘nuke yourself’ variety, with everyone serving him or herself from various newly made and old dishes and then putting them in the microwave one by one – and so we are a little out of sync when we eat but desert gets us aligned again with its many choices (fruit, cake, ice cream) – we leave a little bit of ice cream for a midnight snack for Steve.

« Previous Page — Next Page »

	Sallie Craig Huber on Rays for real
	Lucy on Probabilities
	Olya on Cuts
	Olya Duzey on The surgeon’s helpers
	svriesendorp on Safe in my cocoon