The calls to prayer clearly resound and blend agreeably tonight, perhaps because of the unusual stillness of the evening, allowing for the percussion of crickets to keep a steady rhythm. We’re at the tail end of the “120 Days of Wind,” the summer period in Afghanistan when air pressure differences between the North and South produce heaving wind gusts of up to 115 mph. But even now in the seemingly calm evening, the screen doors to the mud-brick building where I sleep continue to bump, creak and slam in a lazy habitual manner.
It’s hard to believe that I’ve been here almost 3 1/2 months. During this time, I don’t think that I’ve ever been so terrible about keeping in touch with family and friends. For the first time, calling family or friends to pour out the craziness of my week has become an overwhelming task, because somehow I can’t figure out how to express the immensity of everything in just a few sentences at a time.
Still, as I find myself saying over and over again, I’m really thrilled to be here. I go through phases, or maybe cycles. But in general, I’m far from being lonely, and the everyday struggle to live and work here is manageable. I spend about half my time in the field, which I think has helped to keep me sane. My “home base” in Herat consists of a compound of around 10 international staff, a number that constantly fluctuates with everyone coming and going between trips to the field and R&Rs every 3 months. We also seem to always have a consultant or some sort of international visitor that is staying with us from a few weeks to one month at a time.
It’s tough at times, living with the same people that you see at work every day. Kinda makes me feel like I never “leave the office.” But that’s in a sense our reality here… I haven’t worked so hard since studying for finals and finishing my thesis during the last few weeks of grad school. Crazy how easy it has been to get used to it again.
Below are some pictures from my first few months in Afghanistan… enjoy.
Coordination meeting with CRS field staff, members of the Provincial Council, Ghor Province Deparment of Women’s Affairs, and the girls’ high school principal
The airport near our field office in Chagcharan, the capital of Ghor Province
Runway of the Chagcharan airport
CRS guard Kamal, foreman Khalil, and Sonya (daughter of my assistant program manager) outside of Chagcharan staff house
The Chagcharan bazaar
On a field visit
Garden in the middle of the staff compound, “Station 2,” in Herat
Barbeque at Station 2
Beating up Kurt, the misbehaving consultant
