Guns N' Roses

Well … that was a tough December. We haven’t had snow yet, so the dry air, smog and the dust—so much dust—have caused an epidemic of colds and flues. I moved out of the office and into a little house, but rather than giving me some kind of peace of mind, I now have two structures to worry about: water, electricity, gas, internet access, guards, cleaner, etc. At least there aren’t any more lawyers to take care of. Instead, I live with two highly efficient Dutch journalists.

Trying to fix the house, the office or anything here is an exercise in humility and patience. I’ve thrown a fit or two in the last month; mostly in private, but at least once while a scared co-worker cowered in the corner of my office as I hurled inventive profanities by combining English and Persian words. 

Everything here takes three times as long than imagined and when its finished, is in immediate need of further repairs. That is, few projects are ever complete unless you decide that they are. The decision is often reached when the worst is avoided and with lots of self-congratulation. This goes for accessing clean water, painting a room, having heat at night, clean clothes, whatever. Just reevaluate your goal, lower the bar, and gently step over it with your chest out and head held high.

Decent internet access at the office was one of my main priorities, and I was in a bit of a rush to get it done. However, I realized I shouldn’t hold my breath after one particular incident. See, the new ISP folks were supposed to place a dish on our roof. After we used the hose to pull the sucker up, my IT guy, Ashfaq and a few of the guards helped the technicians secure it, while I went down to the office. Up on the roof, while trying to get the thing to point the right direction, they heard our next-door neighbor yelling. Looking down, my guys noticed that he was wielding an AK-47 and accusing them of spying on his womenfolk from the rooftop. Since he apparently missed the giant satellite dish they were lugging around and had a big gun, we didn’t try to reason with him for very long. It took another two weeks to get it set up and working properly without anybody getting shot. Four days later, it needed repairs.

Progress is made, but every inch of it is a struggle. The only times when you can be as successful as you want, are when you want to destroy something. Annoyed by an overly bureaucratic office policy? Ignore and undermine it for a few days and it will disappear. Ugly little unstable wall? Kick it down. Dingy carpet? Tear it out. Overgrown garden? Burn it. That’s right. Burn it. No one gives a damn here, and fire is efficient. Of course, you have to find a new policy that makes sense, build a new wall, buy new carpet and plant a new garden (maybe paint the charred garden walls), but eff it, for now, something got done.

Obviously, I can’t help seeing parallels between my particular situation and that of the greater struggle. I have trouble with folks telling me that after nearly a decade we should have learned that nothing can be done here. They don’t seem to realize that for the first half of this war, our governments were barely securing the place, much less doing the hard work of rebuilding it.

Three years into the war, and after several increases had taken place, we had a little over 12,000 US forces in Afghanistan, Uzbekistan and Pakistan combined. That was 20,000 less than we had in South Korea, and 140,000 less than we had in Iraq (not counting the 50,000 sitting in Kuwait). By June 2008, after doubling from the year before, we had 48,000 troops here. Afghanistan, the second poorest country on Earth, was finally getting more help than South Korea, a member of the G-20.

So really, the US’s, or more accurately, Donald Rumsfeld’s work was a lot like our small fire in the office courtyard. Sure we did something, but we have yet to actually accomplish anything, and by spring, if we haven’t turned the soil and planted some roses (they grow really well here), all those weeds and thistles are sure to grow back.

Next: Why I’m scared for the Taliban (really)


p.s. I don't really know how to respond to individual comments. In fact, to be perfectly honest, I just discovered that I have to click on something to see people's comments.  So I just read them all. You guys are very nice, and yes I want a new quilt.