Flying Home

February is over and so is our trip to Afghanistan.  I'm glad I went but I'm very glad to come home.  This has been a difficult country to visit.  It is with a sort of guilty relief that I get to pack my metaphorical bags and get the heck out of there.  I imagine myself back in America burning my burka, taking a long hot shower, going to an American restaraunt then taking a walk in a park with green trees and not an armed soldier in sight. Bliss!

How's the weather out there?

One major misconception I have--still have, even though I know better, is that Afghanistan is an unrelentingly hot. This idea isn't helped by pictures of Kabul, which seems to be mostly brown, and the nightly news which seems to always show the soldiers hunkered down amidst the blowing sand.  It just LOOKS hot.   It isn't.  The climate (at least in Kabul) is a lot like Denver, Colorado with hottish summers, but gorgeous springs and falls and snow in the winter.  Multiple sources talk about breathing the fresh, intoxicating air.  Who would have guessed?

Cheese!

Okay, the cheese really worked!!  It tastes just like milk---surprise!  The dinner was lots of fun.  Mom, Dad, Christine and Riley came up.  Some of us ate on the floor--those with problems, I allowed to sit on the couch with TV trays.  Everything turned out quite well, even the eggplant salad.  Nobody really liked it, but it's just not anything we would want to make twice.  The meatballs were excellent and the sauce, which was just tomatoes with some garlic, boiled itself down, picked up the spices from the meatballs and turned out quite rich.  Mom brought up some pastries, that she claims are authentic, made with cornstarch and a sweet syrup.  Sticky honey type stuff is definitley in the right spirit. 

In the background we had aol radio playing "World Caravan."  It's supposedly music from all around the world, but it seems to me that the majority of the songs sound middle Eastern, so that worked well. 

Cooking!

     Okay!  It's time for our Afghanistan dinner!  In Afghanistan it seems that everyone is always welcome anytime, anywhere and there will always be food for the guests.  I can't imagine that level of graciousness.  Drop in at my house uninvited and I might be able to offer you.....uhhhhh.....leftover spaghetti?  However, I did preserve some of the element of drop in surprise by inviting my family up for the dinner tomorrow---since I didn't think of it until the last minute, and they live an hour away--we might have everyone or noone.
    The recipes sound yummy!  I got them from asiarecipe.com and www.afghan-web.com  This will be a bigger feast than usual, partly because the food sounds better, and partly because I am in the mood to cook today.  So, after I sign off here, we're going to cook up a storm--the more we get done today, the lazier we can be tomorrow.  
     We'll be cooking naan bread of course (this will make the third batch since coming to Afghanistan), then meatballs with noodles tossed in yogurt, a spicy eggplant salad, Bolaanee (potatoes and onions fried up in eggroll wrappers), and Khatai cookies (looks like a sugar cookie with pistachio nuts) for dessert.  AND as a second sort of dessert--homemade cheese with a side of raisins!  I can't imagine the cheese will taste like much since basically the only ingredient is whole milk, but what fun!!  I had to buy some cheesecloth for the occasion.  My old boss makes cheese as a hobby and sometimes brings me samples.  It will be fun to surprise him if this stuff works.
  

Opportunity

Ok, so this is a blatant excuse to post some really cute pictures of my daughter.  However, I can honestly say this whole month, every time I've looked at her I've been profoundly thankful that she can direct her own life.

Afghans?

I've begun a small quest in search of Afghanistan art.  I thought maybe mosaics would be big over there, given the beauty of the blue mosque, but based on an extensive 5 minute web search, apparently not.  The Taliban wrecked a lot of the existing art, and did a good job of crushing the creative spirit in general, but still...  Oriental style rugs are important, but darn it, those just aren't as interesting as really cool mosaics.  I must keep hunting.  Incidentally, I can't imagine that the fluffy crocheted afghans we make here have anything to do with the country, but you never know.

What's Maryland doing here?

No, we're still in Afghanistan.  The reason the post below this is a lengthy one about Maryland is because I forgot to post it before I started blogging about Afghanistan, and I don't know how to put only the Maryland post in the archive.  In two weeks, when we've moved on it won't matter, but it looks weird now. Any ideas anyone?

Afghanistan--Fistula

The dvd I've been watching is "Motherland Afghanistan".  A documentary.  The cover states that one in seven Afghan women die in childbirth--the second highest maternal mortality rate in the world.  Appalling--and that doesn't count the women who live but whose babies die, or the women who live but develop some horrible problem.  I've learned what a "fistula" is and am more grateful than ever to live in America.  A fistula is a connection between two organs that shouldn't be there.  In the case of the poor woman in the movie the connection was between the vagina and the bladder.  She had been leaking urine constantly for four years, and her whole lower body was blistered. 

Human misery isn't unique to Afghanistan of course.  Which is all the more reason that I feel l like my life comes straight from the pages of "Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous" today. After I finished writing this entry from my cushioned swivel chair in my personal office in my nicely heated home, with multiple rooms that I share with only two other people--I will take one of my favorite books--that I am able to read, and some clean underwear and pajamas, to the bathroom, where I will fill the tub with hot water that is clean enough to drink if I had to, and take a long soak using shampoo and other products freely.  After that I can enjoy the flushable toilet, and a decent toothbrush.  I'll kiss the cats--who eat better than many children, goodnight, and go to sleep on a first class mattress in a bed that I share only with Dave, with the fan providing a light breeze.  Catherine, who enjoys all the above luxuries, is already asleep in her own room.  Tomorrow is a holiday and all of us will sleep in.  A lazy breakfast will come from the well-stocked refrigerator...and so on it goes. 

Afghanistan--Green

Okay, I take it back.  I watched a bit more of the video and it would seem that there are at least some trees and at least one striking picnic spot.  It is also a relief to see that every male in the country is not a brainless tyrant.

Afghanistan--Brown

Here's one of those searing insights that will make everyone want to return to this blog over and over.  Afghanistan is BROWN.  Judging by a documentary I started watching (will post name when movie and I are both upstairs), Kabul is just plain brown.  The landscape, the houses--everything.  I'm thinking of when we lived in Tucson, Arizona and how starved I was for greenery then.  Compared with Kabul, Tucson is a positive oasis.  No wonder the mosaics are so colorful--I'll have to look this up.  Are mosaics everywhere in all the mosques or just the really famous ones?

Afghanistan--Naan

Oh yummy!!!!   In Afghanistan they eat a round flat bread called Naan (they eat in in India and lots of middle Eastern countries).  It can serve as the plate, and also as a knife and fork as the bread is used to soak up sauces or folded to take a piece of meat.  There are all kinds of recipes online.  I made the mistake of trying to make this version on a fast Sunday which was stupid because the whole house smelled fabulous all day.  On youtube there are videos that show you how the bread is made in a real Afghani oven.  Strange technique!  The oven is basically a hole in the wall with a fire going in it.  The baker pats the bread out to the right size then flings it onto one of the walls in the oven where it sticks. A few minutes later he reaches in with long metallic sticks (I would think tongs would be easier) and fishes it out.

I used a frying pan sprayed with PAM, adding my own twist of playing the board game LIFE with Catherine on the kitchen island while I was at it.  It turned out simply terrific.  Looked professional, reminding me of bread you sometimes get in better greek restaraunts.  Catherine, who's been to Turkey, said she thought it looked and tasted authentic.  This will not be a one-time receipe.  I can feel a family staple coming on.  The receipe came from allrecipes.com--click on this link Naan 

Next step is to find recipes for all those sauces.

Afghanistan

Hey!  Check out this month's "Reader's Digest" there are pictures of the country from photo journalists and the reasons why these journalists found the images compelling.

Afghanistan Poem

From Rumi, an Afghan poet born in the 1200's.

The water said to the dirty one, "Come here."
The dirty one said, "I am too ashamed."
The water replied: "How will your shame be washed away without me?"

Afghanistan oppression

ooooffff.  The Bookseller of Kabul remains fascinating, but the author has described how the Taliban went through the country destroying the museums and everything in them.  She left out just enough so that my imagination went wild graphically supplying the details.  I feel sick to my stomach.

Afghanistan February 2009

Catherine shook the envelope and drew out......drum roll......AFGHANISTAN!!
      Okay, so it's probably the last place on earth I'd like to visit right now in real life---but what a great chance to visit in virtual reality.  A beautiful mosque graces the background of my computer at work, and I'm determined to get at least a partial grip on some current events and maybe we can write to some soldiers as a family project.
       Today I went to the library after work and picked up four children's books (lots of pictures) about Afghanistan, a dvd about a midwife, and the book, "The Bookseller of Kabul" by Asne Seierstad.  I read a little while riding the stationary bike and am fascinated.  I sense many future posts will be about this book.  Just a few pages in and already the middle-aged bookseller has taken a second wife (16) without the permission of the first wife.