A marriage proposal- not mine!

Let go of your worries
and be completely clear-hearted,
like the face of a mirror
that contains no images.
If you want a clear mirror,
behold yourself
and see the shameless truth,
which the mirror reflects.
If metal can be polished
to a mirror-like finish,
what polishing might the mirror
of the heart require?
Between the mirror and the heart
is this single difference:
the heart conceals secrets,
while the mirror does not. -Rumi

Cooked today! I’m starting to like it because I’m getting better at it. I cooked goolpi (cauliflower).

I also saw the first proper proposal procedure today, for my sister. The family is a very well respected and educated family- so is the guy asking for my sisters hand. It’s not tradition for the girls family to give an answer straight away, usually takes days (sometimes weeks, months or years). My sister and her potential suitor sat across each other, I sat next to my sister. My sister was too shy to even twitch so I decided to do all the talking asking typical questions which I already knew the answer to (mum and dad had told us before hand). ‘what do you study?’ ‘which year of uni are you currently in?’ ‘Is it hard?’ blah blah blah. He replied in very formal Dari, beyond my comprehension. I tuned out. He would occasionally say a few phrases in English for my understanding (Okay, my Dari may not be the best but I’m not that bad!). Very decent dude. Sisters verdict: pending (yes, I am dying of curiosity).

Also went to Ustaad Sayaafs house (dads paternal cousin, also an MP). Sat, tea served, smiled and nodded. Left. What was the point of going? Just to keep mum company.

On the way back, I realised that women should come out more. This place is suffering from male overflow. If women come out more, then maybe it won’t be so much of a ‘‘man’s world’’.

The past few days I’m feeling better about this place but I ‘lost’ a friend, a soul mate and my confidant. I’m going to miss u a lot. Hopefully, time will reveal all. Farkhunda, if you’re reading this. I miss you!

Ba omideh deedaar, khuda negahdaar.

Human bomb strikes again!

''Same sh*t, different day!'' - Will Smith (Bad Boys 2)

Just when I decided to stop freaking out, another bomb goes off. A human bomb killing four and injuring his target. I heard about it on the news just before leaving the house this morning. The roads were choc a bloc, many of the roads were blocked and we were detoured.

It was exceptionally crowded, armed French and American soldiers were scattered everywhere. We were running late as it was. Dad said we should have left the house early. Outside, people were talking and shaking their heads in disappointment. You could feel the apprehension- a result of the cruel repercussion.

Soon enough, I became a witness to the aftermath terror of a human bomb. Although they had cleaned up the mess the roads were still wet, security was tight and cars were damaged by shrapnel. Some people were even crying. Our car made it’s way slowly through the scene, the police controlling traffic- risking their lives. I couldn’t think, my mouth became dry in disbelief. Shock horror. I couldn’t see the exact place where the bomb went off, journalists had crowded to take pictures. Four dead and counting. Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji oon.

Suicide bomber strikes in Kabul BBC online

The bomb went off not far from the city's main bazaarA suicide bomber has struck in the Afghan capital, Kabul, in an attack apparently aimed at one of the country's
top intelligence officials.
At least four people, plus the bomber, died in the explosion near Kabul's main market, which happened during the morning rush hour, police say. The official, an intelligence service investigations chief, survived.

It is the second bomb attack to hit the capital in just over a week, after months of relative peace. The bomb went off in the centre of Kabul, not far from the city's main bazaar. The bomber struck at one of the busiest times of the day, in the morning rush hour when government workers are on the move.

The BBC's Mark Dummett in Kabul says the blast could be heard right across the city. The target appears to have been Kamaluddin Khan Achikzay, a senior investigator with the intelligence service, but he survived.

At least 12 people were injured in the attack, in addition to the civilian
bystanders who were killed. On 19 March a young Afghan man was killed when a
suicide car bomber attacked a convoy of US embassy officials in the city.
The US officials were unharmed.

Violence in south
It was the first attack of its kind inside Kabul this year, although several deadly blasts last year were blamed on the Taleban. Most attacks take place in the restive
south of the country, where the Taleban have more support and where their
conflict with Nato troops and the Kabul government is predominantly being
fought.

I was glad we hadn’t left the house early.

I sat quietly, tried thinking but I couldn’t. it wasn’t fair, why do the innocent have to die? This country still has unhealed wounds, it doesn’t need situations like this to rub salt on them. I wasn't scared, just angry.

I felt like kicking myself for forgetting to bring my camera. A little while later, a convoy of Afghan men were being transported. Where? To Nimrooz- a province in Afghanistan to battle against the Taliban. There were at least 2000 of them, once again traffic was stopped while the convoy of soldiers made their way. Young men fighting America's dirty war. So young, yet so brave. Still in shock, I stared into their eyes (stupidly) trying to sense their feelings. They were determined and focussed, some were even laughing and joking. I felt an extreme sense of pride for them. They were living proof of Afghan heroism- the same flame of courage which burned in Afghan fighters against Communism decades ago. Wilfred Owens pessimistic war poems began reciting itself in my mind. But my favourite war poem is of an English soldier, Rupert Brooke who fought in WW1.

Patriotic and proud, it goes something like this;

If I should die, think only this of me:
That there's some corner of a foreign field
That is forever England. There shall be
In that rich earth a richer dust concealed-
A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware…
And think, this heart, all evil shed away,
A pulse in the eternal mind, no less
Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given;
Her lights and sounds; dreams happy as her day;
And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness,
In hearts at peace, under an English heaven.

The show must go on.

Afghans don’t believe in traffic fines. Yep, even if they were issued- people just won’t pay them. Afghan obstinacy. People chose to park wherever they want. What’s an alternative for the police? Slash their tyres! Pretty extreme, huh?

Went to AFC (afghan substitute for KFC), I was over the moon. Finally found a fastfood store. Towards the end, when paying for the bill one of the workers had a little chat with dad. I went to listen (Afghanistan is full of surprises). Dad told me that the young guy was the owner, a young afghan who had returned to Afghanistan (from Manchester) after 16 years and opened a fastfood chain. Inspiring!

As usual, I took a few bread rolls for the little street children outside. I gently put a hand on his shoulder, just as he turned around he sighted the bread and instantly asked for it. I gave him all three as he shared it amongst the other boys. When will the day come for me to defeat my number one enemy- poverty!

Another emotional encounter happened today while we were waiting for someone in the car. A young boy, around 10 years of age stopped by our car selling tools. Dad, a supporter of education, asked the young boy if he goes to school. The boy nodded. We bought a few screwdrivers. Dad advised him to stay in school and to become someone important. The boy nodded again, barely saying a word. ‘Why the long face?’ dad asked. He replied, ‘I have a headache.’ His ripped schoolbag was on his back as he held his tools for sale. Dad gave him a huge tip ‘for staying in school’. A headache, just finished from school and working on the streets- he had it tough but he smiled in gratitude as he made his way ahead. Children of a disadvantaged war. I genuinely wished the best for him, the least I could do- for the moment!

Ba omideh deedaar, khuda negahdaar…

Fereshta: I got your comment and your email. Thanks hun! I miss you heaps. Check your email and keep yourself posted on this ;) Love you lots and i miss you like crazy crazy crazy! *sings* Az tu dooram, deewana o madhooshi tu am...

Overcoming the culture shock

Culture shock and emotional constipation. Daym, the past few posts have been nothing more than mere pansy entries. Today, I managed to destroy the culture shock that I had endured (culture shock? culture shock che hast?? boro baba, da ghameh culture shock maandi).

I defered Murdoch uni - didn't have a choice really, still continuing with my other uni. I need to gather myself emotionally and get a grip of myself. No more nagging.

Yes, I managed to wield my way out of going to hamaam (public bath). As a result, spent most of the day at home alone. Did the cleaning and cooking (yep, I actually cooked). We had visitors come over in the afternoon, a proposal for my sister... wohoo!

I really want to help Afghanistan by investing in it's future. i.e the children. Since i have profound experience with the Dept of Justice in Australia and found that the system we have there for juvenile delinquents is almost perfect- at the same time it integrates well with Islamic teachings and Shariah.

In Afghanistan anyone seven years and up can be charged for a criminal offence. Currently there are some 45 juveniles aged from seven to eighteen who have been arrested and detained with adults. Seventy per cent await trial and the rest have been convicted. The national strategy, led by the Ministry of Justice (MOJ) aims to strengthen juvenile justice administration including establishing a focal point in the MOJ; set up new premises for the Kabul Youth Court and train experts on juvenile justice. The strategy includes reform of corrections' administrations for offenders as well as the establishment of a residential institution for offenders aged 15-18 in Kabul. The aim is to extend these initiatives to the provinces later.

Okay, freak-0ut moment! Just found this article (see below). Looks like I'll be dead!

Suicide bomber kills four Afghan police
Tuesday Mar 27 18:52
AEST
Disguised as an Afghan soldier, a suicide bomber blew himself up in
front of a police headquarters and killed at least four policemen in southern
Afghanistan on Tuesday, witnesses said.Several other people were wounded in the attack in Lashkar Gah, the capital of Helmand province, the main drug-producing region of Afghanistan, the world's leading heroin producer.
NATO forces have launched a major offensive in Helmand as spring
heralds the return of the fighting season.NATO and Afghan forces have killed dozens of Taliban fighters in battles in recent days.
Last year was the bloodiest since the Taliban's ouster in 2001, with 4,000 people dying.The rebels have promised to step up suicide attacks as part of a return to
conventional guerrilla attacks this year.

Ba omideh deedaar, khuda negahdaar

PS Just read an article revealing that Anthony Callea's gay- i'm shattered! Why? why? why?

'I love a sunburnt country...'

I am who I am- the best of two cultures held high by the universal religion, Islam!

I finally managed to get that assignment done... yay! Submitted it online last night.Nothing major today, spent the day indoors again. Didn't study at all, my brains suffering from information overload at the moment thanks to my essay. Have to hit the books again tomorrow.



It's 12.30am and TV is on (Tolo channel, of course). All else is asleep like the rest of Afghanistan. Ahmad Zahir just came on 'bakhuda tang ast dilam, tang ast dilam, tang ast dilam' (one of my favourite songs).



Sayaf's house was raided today by Coalition forces in search of weapons and ammunition. It's funny considering he's an MP and a representative of the Karzai gov't. (I won't delve into politics! Too sleepy...)


Got nothing else to say.



I had a dream last night, all my friends were graduating university... but me! *sigh*



Oh yeah, A.A asked me today 'what about Australia?' Mate, I still call Australia home. If it weren't for Australia, I wouldn't be here today. I appreciate everything Australia has given me and it will always be my home for as long as it welcomes me. The bond that my parents have with Afghanistan, I guess I have the same bond with Australia. I grew up there, I have lived all my life there. Australia has given me the education and the expertise to help Afghanistan. It would be selfish of me if I didn't acknowledge that. Right now, I get a sick feeling in my stomach just thinking about Australia because I miss it. But Afghanistan is in desparate need of me. Australia will always be my 'sunburnt country'!

Ba omideh deedaar, khuda negahdaar.

...nostalgic memories

Ahmad Zahir. Omid. University essay. Poetry. Books.

I’ve come to accept the sad fact that I have to defer university for another semester or maybe even a year *sniff sniff*. It’s really not fair. Oh well, no point nagging and whingeing. Whats done is done. I’m still doing two units at another uni though, I deferred three units.

What a waste of time, I wanted to finish this semester which is why I did seven units last semester and six the semester before. I feel like such a loser. Basically I spent the whole day chucking a sad about my studies and freaking out. Maybe I shouldn’t have come at all but that wasn’t an option.

Siblings all enrolled at school today. I stayed home.

Not much to do here, this place is tiny (I thought our city was small) but I still don’t know my way around. That’s not good because if I don’t have anything to do-
I get bored!
And when I get bored,
I start missing home and friends!

I was listening to Gokhan Ozen today and it reminded me of my car and driving on the highway. It’s tough out here. I feel like someone’s amputated my arms and legs and I can’t do anything, I don’t know why. It could be because I’m bludging around and not making use of myself- something I’m not used to. I need to find a life since I cant return to my old one.

Excuse the pessimism, I’m presently in a critical disposition so I’ll end it here.

Ba omideh deedaar, khuda negahdaar.

Karzai's New Year's speech- PATHETIC!

He said, ‘you have pleaded your case but you have no witness.’
I said, ‘my tears are my witness, the pallor of my face is my proof.’
He said, ‘your witness has no credibility, your eyes are too wet to see.’ - Rumi

Went to Lesee Maryam, shopping arena. Crowded and dusty. Weather was bright and sunny. For the first time in Kabul I felt uncomfortable. Dressed in jeans and a knee length top, I received unwanted attention. I bought a black juba and wore it over my clothes. Felt so much better. Finally found Ahmad Zahir MP3s. His entire CD collection is on 2 cds. I was a happy girl.

The clothes stores were years behind in fashion. I’m paranoid now! There was NOTHING which suited my liking. I need to find a European designer store, IF they have any here. Menswear is fine, they have the latest gear for them but ladies wear is appalling. That’s not fair! I need serious help.

Electricity and power have been pretty full on- there haven’t been any blackouts or water shortage. Karzai finally decided to take some action I guess- it’s the least he could do. I found his new year speech appalling! He made no promises to the afghan people (maybe because he is incapable of fulfilling it). Karzai simply prayed for the new year to be filled with ‘rain, snow, peace and friendship with Pakistan’. Okay, lets break this down;

Rain and snow- fair enough, rain and snow bring blessing! Its all good for the Afghans who have solid built houses (including karzai himself). But what shelter will the Karzai and his ‘influential’ MP’s grant for the sixty thousand children who don’t have a roof over their heads? The widows whose husbands died in defence of their country and religion? Where’s their source of warmth?

Peace and friendship with Pakistan- okay okay, hold on a second. No one’s taken out AK 47’s and Kalashnikovs to butcher the Pakis. Are we supposed to fall to their feet? Is that ‘friendship’? also, the only friendship that needs to take place is political diplomacy between the two countries. So that includes Karzai and Musharraf (whose currently on the verge of political demise).

Hmmm…..

What about defeating corruption in the police force? The thousands of young men and women who are serving and risking their lives but are one of the lowest paid workers in the country. Maybe if he stopped overflowing the pockets of his MP’s with American dollars and provided a slight pay rise, corruption will cease.

How about employment of the illiterate (which make up an extreme amount of the afghan population), beggars, old, disabled people by building factories and bakeries? Even the illiterate are able to be of assistance and feel that they are an integral part of Afghan society.

Karzai needs to be educated. Karzai needs to take a walk down any street in Kabul and just spend thirty seconds of his precious time with a begging child. He will find that amid the thousands, hidden amongst rags and torn clothes, concealed behind a coat of dust built on their rough skin there is our future doctor, engineer, lawyer, teacher or perhaps, president. A child who holds immense potential and a thirst for education but have been deprived and silenced, these children are capable of being the pre-eminent in society, yet their status is diminutive and miniscule- compliments to their restrained financial status and Karzai’s disability to create (even a dim) glimmer of hope.

Do something, Karzai. Do something!

Anyways, I have an assignment due before Monday. I haven’t started at all. Looks like I’m going to have an all-nighter. My only source of information is internet and internet is so slow. Shoot me dead!


Ba omideh deedaar, khuda negahdaar.

Last day for celebrating Nawrooz

My life has only brought me sorrow,
Loves good and bad only taught me sorrow.
My constant companion is only pain
My entity has only bought me sorrow.

Friday's entry:

Nothing much has been happening. Yesterday, Dad and bro went out. I stayed home with the rest of family. Today (day 3 of Nawrooz) we were invited to Mama Haji’s place for lunch. I didn’t want to go because I felt bad. His wife’s health isn’t very good and she’s reaching old age. I felt it was better for them to come to our place but I just tag along with my family.

My day couldn’t start off any worst - I burnt my designer black pants that I bought from Australia and I loved to death. I was almost in tears. It was all the stupid irons fault.. It’s not electrical, the iron heats up by placing it on a gas stove and then ironing your clothes. So there’s no temperature, it just heats and heats. I made an oath never to iron my clothes until we get a proper iron.

Weather outside was great! Bright and sunny! Baaz amadi, ay jaaneh mann.. (I love warm weather).

BUT… stayed in doors again. Great!

Spent the whole day sitting (obviously on the floor-mattress, knees were killing me). Few Afghan women came and visited. It was getting repetitive. They all asked the same questions. The interrogation process goes something like this:

How long are you planning to stay?
Whose the eldest?
Is she married?
Are they ready for marriage?
Why did you come to Afghanistan?
How’s Khaarij (referring to Australia)?
How many children do you have?

AAAARGH! Please, enough!

Thankfully, mum did all the talking. I just sat and smiled. At one stage I was about to burst out laughing at one of the lady’s reaction when mum told her that she has six daughters and only one son. She slapped her face and squealed ‘WEEEEEEEEE KHUDAYAAAAAAA…’ I turned around and started laughing really hard. Couldn’t help it.

When it was their turn they told stories of their deceased husbands. Sad and depressing. Depressing because there wasn’t much I could do- at least not for now. The most I can do at the moment is sympathise.

Returned home at 10ish. Went to bed.

Ba omideh deedaar, khuda negahdaar.

'I've completed two degrees minus one semester..'

All day i've been at home instead of going out as it's the second day of Nawrooz and second day of spring (so glad winter's over). It's days like this when i really miss Australia. To keep myself distracted, I tried starting on a university essay which is due on Monday but the net was too slow and information was rare. I spent the whole day searching but nothing would come up. I need a library.

I'm really concerned about my university studies, they won't organise an individual assessment for me. I don't think I'll be getting my second degree any time soon. That's a shame because this was my last semester for my second degree. I'm very disappointed. A relative told me to say 'i've completed two degrees minus one semester'. That actually makes me feel a whole lot better.

Days are so long here and it's very hard to sleep til late. Regardless of how late you sleep the night before, you just wake up early the next morning.. somehow! It's not only me that has realised this, everyone else has too. Strange!

It's 12am, don't feel like sleeping. At the same time, there isn't much to do! Can't be bothered working on my assignment because net is so dodgy.

I feel so useless, sitting at home all day. In Australia, I was always studying or working. Left home at 7.00am and got home at 5pm -6pm. Either at work or uni. Now i'm always at home! This isn't normal for me.

Anyways, I'm listening to Ahmad Zahir. His lyrics hit you right where it hurts.

Beshnaw Ay Ashena Az Dile Zaaram
Roz o Shab Naalam Ashk o Khoon Baaram
Sinaye Pur Khoon Man Ze Gham Daram

Zabanam Ra Namefahmee
Negah Ra Ham Namebenee
Ze Ashakem Be Khabar Maandi

Dil Ra Ba Daste Gham Deham Bas Shekwa Az Donya Konam
Amshab Ba Yaade Ba Yaade Isheq e To Ba Ashk e Khod Tanha Shawam
Farda Qasam Bar Jaan e Az Dard Raswayet konam

Dar aeen kunj e qafas door az gulestan sookhutam murdam
Khabar kun hai sabaa az hal e zaaram baghebaanam ra
Aia sayad rahme kon maranjanid u janam ra
Parr wa baalam bekan amma masozaan asheyaanam ra

wah wah!

Oh, I caught a glimpse of Buzkashi on TV. I wish I went. I really want to see it in real life.

Almost forgot, we had visitors again today. They come at the most unusual time (early in the morning) and without any notice. I need to get used to it, I guess it's an afghan norm.
It's been nearly a month! I can't believe I haven't made any friends in this place. I'm so glad I'm still in touch with my friends back home, they're part of me. My girls are my life!

Anyways, I'm going to leave it here because H.A goes to me today, 'It's not a novel, it's a blog'.

Ba omideh deedaar, khuda negahdaar.

Happy New Year

My favouritest-est-est-est-est Afghan TV host.Most hosts are inexperienced. But Mustafa from Tolo and this other chick (don't know her name) play it pretty well...

Har roozeh taan Nawrooz, Nawroozetaan behrooz- Saaleh naw mubarak!

Omidhaa wa khushihayeh nawetan mubarak.

Bahaar amad.. Khush amadi,

naw rooz amad.. Khush amadi

Yep, AFGHAN new year (March 21)! and SPRING is HERE!!! According to UNESCO it's the year of Rumi (YAY!!!). Here are translations of a few poems by my favourite poet- Jalaladin Rumi Balkhi.

I want to be where your bare foot walks,

because maybe before you step,

you'll look at the ground.

I want that blessing.

Rumi

In your lightI learn how to love.I

n your beauty, how to make poems.

You dance inside my chest,where no one sees you,

but sometimes I do,

and that sight becomes this art (poetry).

Rumi

Celebrations very different to Australia's New Year. Approximately 2 million people gathered in Mazari Sharif at Caliph Ali's tomb (or that's what they believe).One of the best Buzkashi games took place yesterday, organised by Fahim. I REALLY wanted to go (even though it's not recommended for women! But, who cares?! It's once a year, or in my case first in my life). Un-very-fortunately, it coincided with the Nawrooz concert - Naqib Nekan and Rayhana @ Asia Hotel. They had two sessions- one for families during the day, and another for the 'bachelor' guys at 6pm. Of course, we went during the day. Concert was very different, no one danced- i'm assuming it was due to the parents' presence. Once again, Kabul surprised me. Much better than expected (even though the singers were lip syncing).

It was organised by Tolo (a TV channel owned by Melbournian Afghans), and OMG i saw my favouritest-est-est-est-est-est Afghan TV host, Mustafa. I smuggled my phone camera in there and i managed to get a bit of him on camera... until the 'cops' came in. He literally yelled at me for filming and told me that he'll confiscate my phone *blush* Mustafa was on stage, and he interrupted himself (thanks to me :()to tell everyone cameras weren't allowed. ARGH!!! *pulls out hair* how embarrasing.. hahaha (see the pic i managed to take, blurry but better than nothing ;)) my first afghan celebrity that i met hehehe

We left the hall as soon as the concert was over to prevent human and traffic jams. As usual, an Afghan guy followed me talking ENGLISH on the phone with a heavy Afghan accent. What exactly is he trying to prove? *rolls eyes*. My sisters and I made our way to the car, until my sister started screaming 'oh my god, look back...' Thinking it was the English speaking Afghan Accent dude, i refused to look anywhere but ahead until we got into the car. After getting into the car, i saw a familiar face on a mobile phone walking past the car. 'OH MY GOD... THERE'S TOLO DUDE,' I squealed. 'Duh, why do u think i told you to turn around.' My sister rolled her eyes. But she didn't mention names, she said 'he' :( but i took out my video camera and seized the Kodak moment. He knew i was filming and started acting like he was on the phone. Crack up!

Evening, we went to mums relatives place for Samanak. BUT everything was over, they had made samanak already :( At least i got to see the pot they made it in, and the long ladle.

My new years resolution? Described perfectly in one of Rumi's poems.

Who makes these changes?

I shoot an arrow right. It lands left.

I ride after a deer and find myself chased by a hog.

I plot to get what I want and end up in prison.

I dig pits to trap others and fall in.

I should be suspicious of what I want.

---

The minute I'm disappointed
I feel encouraged.
when I'm ruined
I'm healed.
When I'm quiet
and solid as the ground
Then I talk
the low tones of thunder
for everyone

Hmm.. i'm expecting the unexpected! And speaking of the unexpected, i'm pretty upset.. university isn't going too well. University won't allow me to study my units externally- comprises of tests which needs to be completed at uni. Not sure what to do, i't's my final semester!

Ba omideh deedaar, khuda negahdaar!

PS if you left me a comment, i've posted a reply just below your entry :o)

OMG! Was that a bomb??

WOOOOH! I heard my first bomb blast today! Sitting with family in the lounge, all of a sudden...BANG! Few seconds later, sirens. Ambulance. And then moments later, black hawks (American military helicopters) hovered above us. I looked out the window, they were flying so low you could almost see their faces.

Day was better since my last blog entry, even though it started off pretty strange. A proposal at 8am *groan* yes, that meant wake up, prepare tea, serve tea, sit and smile as they conversed on. ARGH!!! Spare me.

Finally retrieved my Webct password (i had forgotten it..hehe) Oh my god, it took two months! Now, i'm drowning in final semester university studies in AFGHANISTAN. argh! I'm five weeks behind! Must.start.studying.

Found this poem in my sisters book she was reading, pretty good... i like!

Let me not pray to be sheltered from dangers but to be fearless in facing them.
Let me not beg for the stilling of my pain but for the heart to conquer it.
Let me not look for allies in life's battlefield but to my own strength.
Let me not crave in ancious fear to be saved but hope for the patience to win my freedom.

Grant me that i may not be a coward,
feeling your mercy in my success alone;
but let me find the grasp of your hand in my failure.

Rabindranath Tagore

Ahhh.. touching isn't it? Inspiring i must say..tehehehe..

Silence and Tears...

Hurt. Anger. Frustration. Tears. Empty. Numb. Drained. Lifeless.

My emotions for the day. I cried a lot. Got home, took a shower. Sat and thought... and thought... and thought... about nothing and everything all at once.
I spoke to Kaka B for the first time since i left Australia. As Afghans would say, goloonem porr bood. I was frozen though. I couldn't say anything. My only response was tears. The line cut sooner than expected.

I don't know if i want to stay in Afghanistan anymore. Things aren't going as planned. My intentions were to help these people, but it looks like others had already planned my trip for me.

Cousins are coming to Afghanistan for New Years Eve, should be interesting. Hope my moods alright by then. doubt it.

Haven't got anything to say. My head is blank and i feel empty and drained. Not sure what will happen. Not sure what to expect.

Ba omideh deedaar, khuda negahdaar.

'Mahbobas Promise'

Wrote this a few days ago, but couldn’t be bothered posting it.

Enjoy…

Yesterday i became a witness to the cruel imposition of the Taliban . Children of a disadvantaged 'war'. An unforgettable experience, almost demoralising.

We visited 'Mahbobas Promise'- an orphanage accomodating sixty deprived children and a number of widows. Deprived of emotional, educational and basic care which every human being deserves.

From a distance the three storey sanctuary grew larger and larger as we drove closer, the middle aged gatekeeper came out via the side door to check who we were before allowing entry. His stern face broke into a friendly one as a smile spread across his face. Realising who we were, the gates opened as our 4WD made it's way inside. Little children stood and looked on.

I tried smiling, but i couldn't. I was frozen. I kept an eye open for Kaka Sidiq ( Khola Mahbobas brother) but the children were much too distracting. The car stopped in the middle of the oval as directed by the orphanage helpers. Curious to explore, i thoughtlessly stepped out of the vehicle into a puddle of mud. My white runners had now turned greenish- brown. For the first time, i didn't care. There were more important matters awaiting us. I was too 'hooked up' with this place already.

A short, young lady with a warm smile welcomed us. A whiteboard marker in her grip, I assumed she was a teacher. Little children looked intently from where they were sitting- a few metres away. The young teacher led the way as we followed her upstairs. I turned around, taking a quick glance at the group of children who stood behind us. Curiously, i followed my family upstairs. I realised that the 'men' (incorporating dad, brother and a relative) had already gone to some other room, not sure why.

The answer became known to me as we went upstairs and into the living room where other women accompanied us (segregation due to genders). Mum began conversing, starting off by asking them what position they hold in the orphanage. Gradually, it came to light who they were. Widows of the disadvantaged Taliban 'war'. Mum, who I say has a heart of rock, seemed close to tears.

One of the widows gave explicit details about the brutal death of her husband. The Taliban had demanded him to release information about the whereabouts of chief Northern Alliance leaders (Ahmad Shah Masood's party). It was obvious to the Taliban that the man hadn't information about the party as he wasn't involved. Just an excuse to beat the poor man. That's when the torture began. He was hung by his ankles from the ceiling and beaten for two hours consecutively. Finally, he was acquitted. A few days later he died. Unsure, his wife presumed it was internal bleeding. Leaving behind his wife and four children.

Moments later, Kaka Sidiq entered the room, dressed in a black leather coat over a grey jacket and black tailored trousers holding a briefcase in his hand. I stood up in his presence, smiling as we greeted each other. I was delighted to see a familiar face. Kaka Sidiq left his family (including a two month old baby) to serve the orphans of Afghanistan. He looked much younger than when I had seen him in Sydney, Australia a few years ago. Around twenty orphans filled the room quietly, finding a place on the tooshak (mattress). Kaka Sidiq and I continued with the formalities, questioning each other's welfare, then the family's welfare etc. Dad joined us a little while later.

Kaka Sidiq asked who wanted to recite a taranah (a poem that is recited in a sing-song tone). They recited wholeheartedly,

‘Mother, where are you? You left an orphan. Mother, you left me in need…’

I couldn’t take it any more! My eyes became too wet to see, I dropped my head and waited for them to finish. Every pair of eyes told a dreadful story, a horrific past.

Some of the children told their stories with no emotion. As if losing a parent was alright. Suddenly, I realised why I was in Kabul. It was for children like them. how could I be so selfish and turn away from these faces. my moral conscience would’nt allow it. Even if I did go back to Australia, I’d be sure to leave something behind and contribute somehitng. A pledge to the poor and needy. I know I’ll face many impediments along the way… what doesn’t kill me can only make me stronger.

Ba omideh deedaar, khuda negahdaar

On the verge of depression...

Oh mi Gawd, I'm so homesick! i miss Australia.. i miss my life, my home, my car, my job, my uni, my FRIENDS.. list goes on..

..... and on...
...and on...
...and on... :(

*sigh*

I'm used to routine and discipline.. now everything's ad hoc! I want to return to my life.

ARGH!

ba omideh deedaar.. ba omideh deedaar.. (i never meant it the way i do now!! BA OMIDEH DEEDAAR) Khuda negahdaar

Where the waters meet...

Yaaay! I found the lyrics to the song 'Shinwary Lawangeena'. Current fav in Afghanistan and across the globe..

The separation has weakened my heart.
Thoughts of the homeland bring tears to my eyes.
Too much love will drive me insane.
These flood waters do not scare me.
My courage will carry me across. When sung in the voice of a woman, this verse brings forth the inner strength of the women of this region. 'Floods' symbolize the patriarchal systems, cultural violence and other accepted impediments in the way of women's active participation in a citizenship and development process.

Why don't you return to your homeland?
You think you are living like a king, but, away from home, one is merely a beggar.

Help me leave the darkness behind, that I may spread light all across my land.
Your sister and your old mother, they love you.
'Why don't you come home?' they ask.

*sniff sniff*

Ba omideh deedaar... Khuda negahdaar

The cold but the beautiful..

Like my title? *raises eyebrows* sound familiar? The bold and the beautiful Nooo.. it's original! tehehehe

Happy b'day to you.. happy b'day to you.. happy b'day to you dear Osama.. Happy b'day to you.. Takbir.. ALLAHU AKBAR.. Takbir.. ALLAHU AKBAR.. Takbir.. ALLAHU AKBAR... tehehehehe he's actually only turned fifty.. omg.. thought he'd be older!

We visited Paghman yesterday, it's an hour away from the city of Kabul. It was much colder than Kabul (didn't know it could get colder!). The striking difference i found was the taste in water. It actually had a taste! Mum had told me a while ago that Paghman water is the best tasting water. Touche!

I heard a song today on 'Tolo' by Daud Hanif, a song that's dedicated to all Afghans that are living away from home. It was the first non-Ahmad Zahir song that i could actually relate to! My favourite line was 'even a king away from home is a beggar...' mmhmm... That's very true! What do you think?

Found a job today! (Can't conceal whereabouts, but it's a good place!) Dad found it for me, thanks to his gov't official connections *wink*. Since our arrival, he's been spending all day, every day with gov't ministers and officials. Catching up with his good ol' mates from them good ol' days! My paternal grandfathers cousin is also a current MP, fought during the Communist invasion, was an interim PM for a while after. Can't wait to meet him in person, maybe exchange some ideas! He's a man that stood shoulder to shoulder with Ahmad Shah Masood.

I guess this will sound like a COMPLETE BORE! but you know what? i actually enjoy listening to stories from when they fought against the Communists- the jihadi stories! it's fascinating! You only ever hear about Ahmad Shah Masood on TV, but here i was listening to personal accounts from people who stood by him through thick and thin.

I spoke to a random elderly man today (i got the vibe that i could learn a lot from him!). He was a fast talker, i had to be extra attentive to comprehend. I approached him by asking how long he'd been in Afghanistan. Thirty five years! Basically, it was the first time i had received first hand information from someone who had experienced Afghanistan throughout the Communist invasion, the Taliban era and now the Karzai period. I heard the unexpected! He explained to me that never before had Afghanistan peace and security than it did when the Taliban were in 'power'.

He explained there were no stealing, no bag snatchers. He told me that when it was time for prayer, shop attendants would leave their shops as it was and head off to the nearest Masjid (Mosque). They would return to their shops and find everything in the same state as they had left it. The Taliban promised shop owners that if anything went missing during this time, they would compensate for it. All this applied only if you were a man! It was a man's world dominated by the men for the men. He stressed that women were under pressure, they weren't allowed to be educated or be seen in public in anything else but a chadari, accompanied by a male relative.

I felt that he preferred the Taliban over the Karzai period. I asked him what he thought of the current regime. On the verge of frustration, he replied that it was only the wealthy and the powerful that recieved gov't attention... the 'chawki daarah'. The average Afghan hadn't recieved any gov't assistance. All the buildings, the roads, the hospitals, shopping centres etc were built by rich Afghans abroad who wanted to do something for their country.

Hmmmmm......

Until next time, ba omideh deedar.. Khuda negahdaar!

OMG! So many questions...

Are you staying there forever?

No, maybe for a year or two maximum. I miss Australia already! I miss my friends, my car, my life, my uni! But even if i don't come back for good, I'll definitely come back to visit! Depends on what I can do here in Afghanistan.

What do you do when you're not out?

Stay home (duh!!) with a hot chocolate in front of the heater, reading a book, on my laptop or watching TV. There's an Afghan TV channel 'Tolo' that's owned by Melbournian Afghans! Studies are keeping me busy! But usually we have people coming over so i'm up and about!

Hows life at home?

It's great! Sometimes, for inspiration I look out the window and just watch people get on with everyday life! You see kids on bikes, then there are the rich ones riding around in Landcruisers and Lexus 4Wds. Kids playing cricket on the street, Guys showing off with their cars hitting on girls. It's all new to me but i'm loving every bit of it!

Hows the night life?

I'm a good girl! lol. Night life is excellent because you can go about and do things and you realised that it's all within the boundaries. There's heaps of fun out at the markets and shopping centres. Only been a week i've arrived, give me time to get used to the place!

Hows the shopping?

EXCELLENT! Surprisingly our economy is doing much better than Pakistans. $1Aus buys 37 Afghanis whereas it buys 48 Rupees. Secondly, the shopping complexes are much more advanced and ahead than Pakistan. I haven't been shopping around much, just getting around at orphanages and applying for jobs etc.

Hows lifestyle?

Better than i expected! I thought the men would go all ga ga over women but they're true gentlemen! They don't bump sinto you 'accidently' like they do in Pakistan even if they have 5metres of space next to them. And I can dress normal like i did in Australia because it's normal to do so here. Unlike Pakistan where i had to wear all the Indian crap which i HATED! I'm so glad i'm out of there!

You gonna work there or study?

Both! I'm finishing off my second degree (BLaw) and I'm also looking for a job. My dads cousin founder of ' Mahbobas Promise' wants me to work with her and help out with the orphanage! Basically, my number one enemy at the moment is poverty and alcohol in Afghanistan.

Wots gonna happen??????

I don't know! I'm taking everyday as it comes. Usually I would have my whole year planned out. But this place is unpredictable. I'm open to changes so we'll see what happens! I'll keep you informed!

Celebrate womanhood...

Inside Kabul Shopping Centre. It's huge with classy features! This is at the coffee shop.

Afghan jalghoozah- you gotta break the shell and eat the seed. I see no point in this except a huge mess!

It's been alright today! Warmer than other days, but still cold. Started studying.. i'm doing it all online (it's already week 3 of uni). I can hear people outside. Feels awkward hearing people talk Dari all the time, compared to Australia where it was all English. It's womans day today.. yay!





Kabul has a great social atmosphere, there's people everywhere all the time! This place never sleeps. It's also uni and school holidays here, so it's even better! New years is on 21st March, there's a concert organised- should be interesting! Out on the streets, there are police and soldiers in uniform everywhere, to maintain harmony i guess! It's not as bad as they show it on TV. Only problems is that everytime I leave home, i come back with muddy shoes (Argh!).





I miss Australia... I'm starting to appreciate everything i took for granted! But we're settling in alright. Parents bought a Landcruiser with creamy leather interior and Dvd players etc. It's awesome! Some strange reason, the police never stop us at check points instead, they salute us and wave us through. Later i learned that it's because only government officials drive them kind of cars. Wohoo..





Ahmad Shah Masood (an Afghan warrior) is so respected in this place. Six years after his death, his face is everywhere. On cars, on huge bulletins, a monument has been built for him in the heart of Kabul. I watched a documentary of his life the other day, and he truly is a fighter! Dads cousin was a close friend of his, fought with him side by side. He recalls Masood as being very laid back and was ready to face the enemy. (an American fighter jet just flew over)





Another icon I admire is Ahmad Zahir (the Elvis of Afghanistan). Twenty odd years has passed since his death and his music is still heard by young and old. I'm hoping to visit his grave that was destroyed by the 'Taliban'. His songs are powerful and deep. I'll post a few lyrics on here when I get them translated.





We visited my grandparents house which dad spent his teenage years. It was only down the road from Ahmad Zahirs house, where dad saw him and his wife many times going for walks.





That's all i can think of for now. My hands are frozen already... must go and watch news, see the latest happenings.





Ba Omideh deedar, khuda negahdaar!

Afghans...What's left of us

Many people (including some Afghans) claim that we have nothing left to be proud of.
We have everything to be proud of! Yes, we lost our buildings and our offices during the decades of war but the flame of hope continued to burn in every Afghan through out the world.

Infrastructure was demolished but this only strengthened the Afghan spirit. Afghanistan still has unhealed wounds, it's evident! The people don't speak but Afghanistans' characteristics reveals all.

The clouds weep sorrowful tears.. as every Afghan did when they lost a mother, a father or a child. mountains stand tall and proud.. like a true Afghan does, houses destroyed by missiles.. as families are shattered, walls covered in bulletholes just as every afghan soldier was martyred.
Yet, you see Afghans smile while their eyes reveal history!

Thanks to God, we have everything to be proud of!

Crossing the border...

"Khurd asteen, kalaan mesheen. Peer asteen, jawaan mesheen. Khub ast ke da wattan (Afghanistan) amadeen.'' (An elderly shopkeeper recited this to me)

*Translation: If you're small, you'll grow older. If your old, you'll become younger. It's good that you have returned to Afghanistan

It's been exactly a week since our arrival at Kabul. It's been a long trip, Malaysia, Islamabad, Peshawar and Kabul. We travelled by bus from Pakistan to Afghanistan.

Pakistan- a country I've dreaded since I can remember! I can almost say I hate it! And to be quite honest, my nightmare was relived. I found most Pakistanis as being rude and racist towards Afghans (not to me, compliments to my 'Australian' identity and passport). Centre of corruption and bribery, money gets people through any situation, regardless of the legality or morality of their action. I guess it's true when they say 'money talks'. In this place, it yells! Basically, I didn't like Pakistan because of the ill treatment of Afghans. Never before had I felt so unwelcomed as I did in Pakistan, not even Australia was so unwelcoming. I tell it like I see it, nothing more- nothing less!

We left for Kabul at 6am, feelings of excitement and anxiety had deprived me of sleep the night before. I couldn't believe this was happening, I was going to see my country, my people for the first time. I grew up with my family who held immense passion for their country, witnessing tears as they told their stories longing to return home. I felt honoured going to Afghanistan (for some odd reason which only time could explain). I could only imagine how my parents felt returning to Afghanistan after thirty years.

We crossed the border at 2pm. To be blunt and to the point, I was impressed! Afghanistans natural beauty stood tall and proud. The mountains creating a spectacular skyline, covering the clouds. Despite the cold weather and the snow, flowers bloomed amongst green landscapes. Afghans have the tendency of exaggerating, but what I had seen already deserved every bit of praise it recieved.

We drove through Laghman and Jalalabad. Stopping over at Maahi Parr for lunch, the river flowed from the mountains. It was the prettiest sight ever! To cut a long story short, we eventually reached Kabul (duh!!).

I was even more surprised to see Kabul so ahead in infrastructure despite twenty odd years at war. Busy streets filled with young men and women dressed in NORMAL clothes. I found it extremely frustrating in Pakistan when going out! Girls can't dress in normal (jeans etc) clothes because it isn't the social norm there. Women were required to wear salwar kameez (punjabis) which I resented!! I didn't want to blend in with the PAkistanis, I didn't want to wear their clothes! So i dressed in long black abayas (was mistaken for an Arab a million and one times) or I'd wear long tops over trousers. Regardless of what you were dressed in, you're bound to get pinched or bumped into 'accidently' by a man. I got bumped into 'accidently', I ended up punching the guy! (Later on I was told that punching a guy translated into a gesture of appreciation! What the...?)

Afghanistan was the exact opposite, Afghan men portrayed gentleman-like behaviour. Not once was I bumped into accidently. They did stare of course, as they probably could guess I had come new to Afghanistan. I fell in love with it almost immediately. Despite the dust, the mud and the cold weather.. I enjoyed every moment! It was my roots, I felt a sensation that is too overwhelming for words. One that can only be felt when you step foot on the soil of Afghanistan.

Alhamdullilah, all gratitude goes to Him for this journey!

Anyways, it's 4am so i better sign out! I'll write in some more... soon! Hey, at least i got the blog started :P