::wanderlusting::

Comfort

2011-03-13T21:00:00.000-05:00

Recently I asked someone "what makes you comfortable?" and after asking, I realized I never really thought through the question myself. So I did.

Each day, I realize I am less comfortable with what I know to be true; which I hope is healthy. Each day, though, I am more comfortable pushing myself and my limits to learn more, explore more and challenge myself more than I ever thought I would.

Each day, I realize that a lot of our comforts are probably similar. And as I ponder what it is that makes me comfortable, it doesn't have to be one person or place, instead like an old film strip, thoughts pass through my mind. And more often than not, these are shared experiences.

Reading in the park. Admiring Ava as she snuggles into me. Walking in the warm sunshine. Enjoying a glass of wine with a good friend. The smell of coffee. Learning something new. Working/reading in a nice cafe. A candle lit room. A night in with a book. Enjoying a warm cup of tea. New cities. Laughing with Henry. Staring into a fire and remembering the beauty of life. Listening to a good story, or two. A basket filled with fresh fruits and veggies from the local market. Starry nights. Your stories. Toes in the sand. Finding the perfect gift. Finding an uplifting news story and sharing it. Laughing with anyone, really. Cooking and sharing a good meal. Puppy kisses.

Sharing love and sharing life.

A good friend once gave me Joseph Campbell's book and I remember a section where he talked about closing your eyes and going to a place where you remember being most happy. These, the things I have listed above, I think, are the places I would go. And these are the places I do, I think, try to go each day, in addition to challenging myself. Life is about comforting those around you as well, as life is about sharing and loving.

Here is to being comfortable, while still challenging oneself - all while sharing love.

Community

2011-02-09T19:02:00.004-06:00

One of the places where I have learned the most about community is Green Bay, Wisconsin. Oddly enough, part of that sense of community comes from our home football team, the Green Bay Packers. Sounds funny, I know. Especially coming from a girl whose only interest in watching sports (playing is a different story) is really hockey, and only because I grew up idolizing my big brother go from rink to rink winning tournament after tournament.

We are unique, for many reasons. Community, is what sets us apart. The Packers are the only team owned by the community and there are players who have been around for years, because of the community and the spirit of Green Bay. When bringing in new players, management looks for not only the skill, but the heart in each player. Donald Driver who has been with the team for 12 years (I think), was the last one off the field yesterday as he took time with each fan, even with an injury, as he circled the stadium. Driver has the heart of Green Bay, and the community sees it.

Rodgers said in an interview with Letterman "But I think a lot of times, the things you can't measure are often the things that give people the most success."

Here is a little piece of the heart I saw from my family and friends during this Superbowl XLV win...

Green Bay Superbowl XLV Celebration from Anna Titulaer on Vimeo.

I am always thankful for the heart and spirit of Green Bay, and what it has taught me, and continues to teach me, each day.

small things

2011-02-07T22:30:00.000-06:00

There are days when I am sure that though we are all human, we often forget what it means to be human. To truly love one another.

In moments of hardship and frustration, I find comfort in the pages of The Joy of Loving by Mother Teresa and A Manual for Living by Epictetus. Books which speak to loving one another, but in focusing on our daily lives, and what is important.

"We must not drift away from the humble works, because these are the works nobody will do. They are never too small. We are so small we look at things in a small way. Even if we d a small things for somebody, God, being almighty, sees everything is great. For there are many people who can do big things. But there are very few people who will do the small things." - Mother Teresa

Tonight, as I close my eyes, I continue to challenge myself to act on the small meaningful loving acts in life, as they truly matter each day.

Don't Fake It

2010-12-13T18:38:00.000-06:00

Do you ever put on that smile, the smile where only half of your face is smiling? You try really hard to make it all the way, but you just can't bear it. The one where your teeth hardly show. You think they don't know, but they do. Oh, they know. Those fake smiles, they are the worst. Don't fake it, they'll know.

Previously I posted that my mom entered us in a makeover show on live television, contrary to a few bets from friends, it happened. For those of you who know me, you know it's not my cup of tea. For those of you who don't, well, it's not my cup of tea. But, by doing the show it raised awareness for Locks of Love and with the help of amazing friends and family we raised over $1,000 for the Linda Norgrove Foundation. Not to mention, my mom got a fabulous makeover - video to come soon. During this whole process the ladies at Haven Salon and Azure were amazing and treated us so well. But, as previously mentioned, pampering is outside of my comfort zone. I tried, oh, I tried so hard to smile and love it. But when the fancy dress, red lip stick and bangs (oh the bangs!) came out, in return was a half smile. I faked it. They knew.

I am dreading seeing this video. What could be worse than seeing yourself fake it, right? And I know I am quite possibly the worst faker in the world. For what matters to me in life, is what is real.

The energy of the ladies at Haven and Azure was real, that I loved. And I believe the donated hair and money is going to a real cause. Behind the fake smile, was something real.

If you do have to fake it... Find what's real.

Join Me...

2010-12-08T12:22:00.000-06:00

Recently, I left Afghanistan and returned to the States where we are blessed and fortunate enough to have never truly struggled with education or healthcare needs. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for a majority of the women in Afghanistan.

When I return to Wisconsin, my mother has asked me to take part with her in a live television event – where I will give up something of mine – my hair. For the sixth time I will be donating my hair to Locks of Love.

Therefore, I am asking for your support, as I support the Linda Norgrove Foundation, a new grant giving trust which provides funding for women, families and children in Afghanistan. The Foundation offers help with regard to education and health, childcare including orphanages, and scholarships so that Afghan women can go to University.

I know these things may seem unrelated, but oddly, to me they are not. The quote "To those whom much is given, much is expected," explains it all. As I leave Kabul, help me leave something behind. As always, thank you for all of your support.

Please go to http://www.virginmoneygiving.com/AnnaElizabeth to see my fundraising page and sponsor me online.

For all of those who contribute to the cause, I will share the video of the show - which is sure to be a treat if you know my mother, and if you know my fear of cameras. :)

Thanks so much for all of your support, always!

Again, please go to http://www.virginmoneygiving.com/AnnaElizabeth to support the cause.

Kabul Sweet Kabul

2010-11-17T11:25:00.003-06:00

A few months back, I was in DC visiting some of the most amazing friends in the world. Celebrating the goodness of life and friendship, we were dancing up a storm; but, needing a break from it all, I stepped outside for a breath of fresh air. “Hey, how are you?” a kind sir asked. And in DC, we all know that the second question, before even asking your name, is “and, what do you do?”. He looked nice enough, so I explained that I was an international development professional working in Kabul. “Woah!”, he nearly spit his drink on me. After the kind sir caught his breath (no, we still didn’t know each others names), he asked “so, is Kabul home then?”. I paused, smiled and responded. “Yes, Kabul is home for me right now”. As I spoke those words, I slide back into the world I know so well in the war torn country.

Of all of the places I have lived, Kabul has been the hardest place to for me to call home. I say that, probably not for the reasons you are thinking, but rather in spite of those issues. The security restrictions create a barrier between the world in which I live and the real Afghanistan. There is a beautiful culture that I see glimpses of, there are mountains I can see from my window and veiled women whose story I will never know. There is so much left to see, so much left to do; yet, the restrictions remain.

There is a window. In my office, there is a window. If you crack the window slightly in the morning, you can hear the laughter of children. If you open the blinds in the afternoon, you will see women walking hand in hand through the park. If you get up early enough, you will see guards patrolling the sidewalks. If you look closely, you will see families taking pictures amongst the beautiful rose bushes. And if you watch long enough, and if you believe, you too, will see that this window, this window in my office, it is a window to the future of Afghanistan.

Through the window, I do get a glimpse of Afghanistan, but I know it is only a snapshot in time of what is happening. And, of course, my window paints a picture only the blessed are fortunate enough to see. For all of these reasons and more, Afghanistan will always be a place I call home.

!Dilo Fuerte!

2010-08-21T22:46:00.001-05:00

Greetings from sunny Leon, Mexico. Mexico is known for many things, the next of which, I hope is a UN Declaration for Youth.

A few days ago, I arrived in Mexico to both volunteer and participate in the UN World Youth Conference. An event of this nature focusing solely on Youth issues, has not been held in over 10 years. An event of this caliber focusing on Youth has never been held. In the next week, thousands of leaders from all over the world will gather to discuss the Youth agenda,

In the next week, I have the opportunity to be a part of something much larger than me. Something that could potentially change the way Youth are perceived. I have the chance to be a part of history.

!Dilo Fuerte! Say it Loud!

Updates to come....

Eleven

2010-07-30T02:22:00.000-05:00

The local ice cream shop had moved locations, moving onward and upward; leaving a quaint, over-used shop on the main strip in the only place, which, at that time, I had ever really known.

"Mom, how much do you think it would cost to rent that?" my naive eleven-year-old self asked.

As anyone would, my mother though nothing of my question, I was young, and my relations with, what used to be, my favorite ice cream shop could be nil.

But, go back. Go back to where you were at ten, eleven or twelve. Everything was possible. Everything was larger than life and everything was real in a way that we often forget today. When tainted, we were tainted in earth shattering ways, as it was often a first hit at an untouched soul.

Earlier that week, we had gone to a food shelter. I had heard about it. I had known about it. But, it couldn't be true. Not in De Pere. Not in Wisconsin. We wouldn't let that happen. But, we did. And it was up-kept, un-tamely and poorly managed.

People are people. It's just that easy. I knew it then and I know it now. My eleven-year-old self was broken, crushed and motivated.

I am not sure if my mother ever knew this, but on our next drive through town, right below 'For Sale' was a number, I jotted it down and when no one was home, I called. The starting price, I don't recall, but I do remember asking several times for the kind sir to repeat it - as I was adding up how many ice cream cones that was… more than I had ever eaten, that is for sure.

The plan was outlined in my journal, and I even started, regardless of how many ice cream cones it cost. Letters went out to my favorite musicians, the Mayor, Packer players, foundations, my favorite companies (the address is right on the label!) and of course, Oprah. Out of thirty or so letters that I sent... I had one response and it was a 'good luck, kid!'. Lemonade stands, art sales, and emptying my piggy bank, I was sure it would add up, that it would start to be something. And when I got close enough, I was sure the local news would jump in rally community support and we would be fine.

It would be a community home. No one should be homeless. There would be clothes (yes, I cleaned out my closet and the piles were ready to go), food and love. The world didn't have to be such an ugly place. Eleven or not, I could do something.

My eleven year-old dreams of the community home never came true. With a little help and organization, I found a way to volunteer regularly helping the community. Every time I drive by that spot, I see what I envisioned then.

If only we could all go back to our eleven year-old hearts. Back to the passion, the un-adulterated lives that we could all be living.

Here is to going back to seeing things through the eyes of an eleven year-old.

Hope from the Past

2010-06-17T23:01:00.002-05:00

It has been far too long since I have written, this I realize. Since my last post, I escaped to Egypt for a much needed adventure and I just returned from a trip back to the States where the familiarity of family and friends was a welcoming as it always has been.

Today, when I was reading through my morning news, as I always do, I couldn't help but share this, as every time I come across photos and stories of Afghanistan from some time ago, they bring a renewed sense of hope to what we are all doing. Colleagues have lived through this, international colleagues traveled here and to hear there stories is amazing - - its an Afghanistan so far from the war torn country we are in now.

Take a moment to gather some hope and see the light.

Photos of Afghanistan's Past: Modernity Lost

There are more in the Photo Essay at Once Upon a Time in Afghanistan

"Mothers and children at a city playground."

When I look out my window every night, as darkness sets in and with only the light of the moon, I see a city, a real city. There is hope. A hopeless romantic I may be, but with a past where mothers and children can play in the playground freely and the will for the future - there is reason to have hope.

Everyday a surprise

2010-03-23T12:09:00.000-05:00

Everyday is an adventure. Everyday is surreal. Everyday I find myself both asking myself why I am here and feeling blessed that I am. Life is funny in that way, I suppose. Maybe that is how each day should be, continually challenging ourselves to step outside of our comfort zones so that we feel out of place, but also blessed.

Being here, though, in a warzone, that is, it is the little things in life that are magnetized. The goods are great and the bads are horrendous – here in Kabul we have no middle ground, that I quickly realized.

A few days, a coworker received a large box in the mail. Now normally mail day brings the good days to great. But this large box – oh, it changed the week, friends. Inside of this box was about 40 boxes of - straight from the hands of an all American, 7 year old, badge wearing, sweet and peaches, girl scout – Girl Scout Cookies. A skip in the step on the way out the door, a friendly hello and meetings even ended on time, with a pleasant “another cookie, before you go?”. Everyday brings surprises.

Yesterday, a more humorous surprise came my way - - and a bit more suddenly, which I am sure you will appreciate. Our security protocol is such that if you go to an outside building to ours, you are searched. Ok, makes sense. Well, I had traveled to an office of ours that I hadn’t been to before, from “the outside”.

“Ma’am, kindly step inside”, the nice guard asks, as the female guard is waving her baton at me. So, I step inside and hand her my purse to search. As I am unzipping my purse, I am getting more action than I have in quite some time. Now, maybe this is partially because I am in Afghanistan not allowed to really even look at men, but goodness me – this woman took her job very seriously. As I am trying to a. focus b. be a mature adult and not laugh c. figure about what the h e double hockey sticks is happening and if it is really protocol and d. no just start running, I simply look up toward to sky as she finishes my “body search” (f.u.l.l. body search, mind you), and like an obedient dog wait for her permission to leave. If TSA is looking, I suggest they give her a call.

Not only was my “search” an adventure, but it made me realize how lucky we are back in the states to not have to be searched each time we walk into work, school, etc. Sure, I think too much over here. But it is these little things that really make you think. So go out and buy some girl scout cookies and walk through those work doors with pride (no special attention for you).

It's All Relative

2010-03-18T12:56:00.000-05:00

Yesterday morning I was annoyingly awoken by the changing of the guards, which made me think - maybe I spoke too soon about this normal thing. When I say changing of the guards, I don't mean the fancy speal they do at Arlington National Cemetery (how great would that be though?). What I do mean, is that at around 4am-ish the lovely gentleman who so kindly have watched over the house all night and patrolled now go home to their families and taking their place are more nice gentleman. Really, I am not being facetious, they are very kind. As the new guards come in, they are instructed to check their guns to ensure they are locked and loaded (ahh, I learn the meaning of locked and loaded! - but shouldn't it be loaded and then locked?). Well, we are in The Ghanny, so not everything is in tip top condition, so if you don't spiffy up that gun, you can imagine how many times you might have to ensure it is properly loaded, or locked - heck, I am not even going to pretend I know what they are doing. All, I know is that they are making that 'chich-chich' noise over and over and over again at 4 FREAKING AM. It was like a literally wake up call - no, Anna, your life is not normal. Better yet, the neighbor guards thought this was going to be a musscle fest, so they started flexing too. Hello, we are sleeping.

So I wake up all grumpy and get in the shower, only to realize that something had bit me in the middle of the night. I had 5 massive bumps on my back. Jeepers creepers - this was not my night. So I think, eh, I'll let it be, just watch them and make sure I don't keel over (you never know around here). Only to walk in the office and the office manager had broken out in full out hives. I tell her to go to the Dr. and she tells me that if she goes, she will be there for 2 days and they will "inject" her with something. What about a clinic, I say. Get this -- they are not open during the day. Don't worry, any kind of drug you want - you got it, but you never reeallly know what you are getting.

Normal - what is normal, anyway? I suppose its all relative. I am feeling settled and life is good.

Oh, and Baby Henry was born! Congrats Ryan, Shell and Belle, can't wait to meet him. :)

Dare I say... Normal

2010-03-15T13:34:00.000-05:00

Alarm clock buzz, shower time, corn flakes with bananas, ride to work, work-work-work, hit the gym, socialize, dinner, zzzzs and repeat.

A few people have asked why I haven't written. The first response is that I have been working all day, everyday, but when I really thought about it, I didn't have anything exciting to write about. How about that... life in Kabul is normal.

Sure I have some funny stories, but they are not PG-rated, so you are going to need to skype me for those.

A month ago, when I was getting on a plane, never would I have though that life in Kabul would feel so (dare I say it) normal. Wednesday I am going to a new yoga class and Friday we are going shopping. Today was so beautiful I spent 3 hours reading reports outside in the gleaming sunshine. Everyday, I meet more fantastically brilliant people. The work is getting better by the day.

There are down sides, as there are to anything, but I prefer to look up.

So as I settled in, I would love to hear about your adventures.

When will they realize...

2010-03-06T23:01:00.000-06:00

Letting Women Reach Women in Afghan War
A Female Approach to Peacekeeping

Closer to You

2010-03-05T09:38:00.000-06:00

Some days I really don't feel like I am halfway across the world and to me, those are the best days. I suppose it gets easier, being gone, that is. But, it will never be normal and I will never stop missing friends and family. Every day I think about you, know that. :)

There are things, that make home feel so much closer.

Oddly enough at 1:30am last night I was reminded of that. Last night I went out to dinner with a fabulous group of ladies. In fact, for a few hours it was as if we weren't even in a war zone. The food was fantastic and the company even better. People here are amazing and how they do what they do, I am amazed by each of them. After dinner we went out for drinks. Some go out for the company and others to forget (if you know what I mean). The trick is to find those who are there for the company and avoid those who are there to forget.

The night went well and I make my way home around midnight, cuddled up in bed and lights out. Doozing off I saw something bright in the sky, blurred though as I didn't have my glasses on. Here, it is like you have a 6th sense ... always cautious of something, you know? I'm thinking its a drone a plane or a street light. Anyway, so instead of pulling my sleep mask down or closing the curtains, I put my glasses on, pick my head up and look up.

There it is, looking back at me, as if to tell me there YOU are and here we all are, the moon. Oddly, it made me feel at home, because I know that we are all underneath that same moon. Crazy, I know, but true, is it not?

It is the small things that remind me of home. My mom gave me this beautiful neclace that is on my bed post (makes my tear up everytime I look at it), and it makes me feel like she is right there. I have a picture of my girl friends on my dresser and it makes me smile each morning.

Skyping, facebook messages, gchats and emails light up my nights and days like you would not believe. It can turn the most stressful day right around. And mail, mail is even better. :)

Henry, my Godson, really just whenever I think about him. Everyone knows about him and every time I go shopping I look for something. I am afraid to buy something with his name on it, in case they change it though (he is due in two weeks). But, because I can't be there, I bring him here.

So, thank you. Thank you for supporting me and for being here, you are all thought about much more than you know. I always say its the little things that make a big difference.

So again, as I look out at that beautiful moon, know that even though thousands of miles away, we are still under the same sky.

Pics (more added on fb)

2010-03-05T05:24:00.000-06:00

The First Boom

2010-02-26T08:19:00.000-06:00

You know when you are waiting for something, and you just want to get it over with. The line for the roller coaster makes your stomach drop almost as much as the ride... if its your first time (or so you think).

I knew it would and the anticipation was killing me, and every bit of me didn't want it to come, but at the same time, I just wanted to get that first time over with ... you know?

This morning, it happened. The first bomb went off in relatively close proximity to our new house. At 6:30am, the house was rocked with an explosive boom, followed by that noise I always hear small boys make when holding their toy guns (I'm impressed how accurate they are).

However, like somethings you are unsure of, like small earthquake tremors or when you think you hear someone in the house ... this was not one of them, this was a boom that shook the city, followed by two smaller booms and automatic firing.

I say boom, to lighten it up a bit, as people live with this everyday. After the dust had settled, because we were in the new house (foodless), we were approved to go to another house to go have a nice brunch. As we drove, we could see normalcy throughout the city. Less than a mile from the site there were children playing soccer in the street and people going about their business as if nothing had happened.

Scary? Yes. However, now I know how things work. I know that I will be ok (special thanks to my brother for being there on skype as I waited for security) and that, hey, I actually won't freak out, as I thought I might . And, people deal with this everyday, they have no choice and days go on.

So there you have it, the first boom and all is well.

Green means go, folks!

2010-02-22T10:01:00.000-06:00

Have you ever stopped to think what the best feeling in the world is? Well, it is easier to recognize it once its gone. Aside from love and babies and all that mushy stuff - an honestly, down to earth good feeling. Well, what I have come to miss is walking down the street. A simple walk down the street, saying a simple hello to your neighbors and smelling the flowers. What would you do if someone locked up your front door and said you can't come out. You had to go straight from your front door, into a car and hide yourself from the world. You are a mere stranger to the world outside, and they to you. How much would you really understand about your community without being able to partake? Here, we are not able to walk outside, talk outside, sometimes I feel like my view outside is even shaded and a bit jaded.

For a moment today that all changed. A simple walk down the street can change everything.

Security here goes in phases and we are on a color scheme (to simplify it for us non-intelligence folks) and generally we are ranked a little higher, meaning we need to be a little more cautious. We need to have armed escorts, extra security guards, ride in armored vehicles, etc. However, for whatever reason today the security is a little more lax (green) and I was able to walk down the street. Granted it wasn't more than 2 blocks (and an armed escort did follow me), but it was as far out of my bubble as I had been since stepping onto Afghan soil.

I am a strong believer in understanding the area in which one is living and working, but the security here is not conducive to allowing one to go out freely into the community. Though there are challenges, today I took a step.

The good, the bad and the ugly

2010-02-19T05:09:00.007-06:00

Remember when I was in Pakistan and the doorman walked in on me, half naked? Or when I was stuck in the London airport and woke up on a terminal bench canoodling with a homeless woman? Or just last week when slipped getting into the big tonka trucks over here, splashing into a nasty puddle of mud?

Well, those are the stories people always comment on the most. Thus, I thought I would share the best pick up lines. These are good, friends. So good, I don't think I can keep them to myself. You'll have to stick with it, as I will update it regularly (but I won't be going out a lot). But, I do promise they will be good, as the ratio of men to women in bars here is about 10 to 1.

So far...

Drunken Sir #1: "You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, are you from around here?"
Me: "Ummm, sir, we are in Kabul. No, I am not from around here."
Drunken Sir #2: hands Drunken Sir #1 a drink (so he now has 2 drinks in his hand, spilling drink number 1
Drunker Sir #1: "But you look like the local flavor"
Me: Kindly bow out of conversation

Nice French Diplomat Man: "So, wvhere are you from?" (spelling is his french accent, not drunked slur)
Me: "The States"
Nice French Diplomat Man: "Wvhere in the US?"
Me: Wisconsin
Nice French Diplomat Man: "They ave sheeeseheads"
Nice French Diplomat Man: "nd tat '70s Show"
Nice French Diplomat Man: "nd a futball team, yah?"
Me: "You could say that about most any State"
Nice French Diplomat Man: "the paacvers!" (after he got another drink)
... I later figured out he was googling Wisconsin on his iPhone (points for creativeness? or a little creepy?)

Maybe Normal Sir? #1: "You are from the US, yah?"
Me: "I am"
Maybe Normal Sir? #1: "I can't detect your accent, what State are you from?"
Me: "Wisconsin"
Maybe Normal Sir? #1: (giggles a bit and turns his head)
Me: "Umm, why is that funny? What is so funny about Wisconsin?"
Maybe Normal Sir? #1: "They say all good girls come from Wisconsin"
Me: "Oh, really, is that so. Well, where are you from?"
Maybe Normal Sir? #1: "Nebraska"

Nice French Diplomat Man (another night): creepishly approaches from behind
Nice French Diplomat Man: "vvhhy, hesslo there"
Me: "Hey, how are you?"
Nice French Diplomat Man:"I'm puerrefect, nd du?"
Me: "I'm well, thanks! I am going to go dance with my friends, I'll see you later"
Nice French Diplomat Man:"I'll be tsvinkig about you svile I slevp tonight"
Me: peeaceed out of that convo pretty quickly

Strategic Aid

2010-02-19T04:22:00.004-06:00

"Our pledge on aid spending is based on a sober but optimistic assessment of the potential for carefully targeted aid to make a real difference to the lives of millions of people in the years ahead." - Andrew Mitchell, UK Shadow Secretary of State for International Development

Aid doesn't just save lives: it's good for us too

As US Seizes Marjah, UN Rejects “Militarization” of Aid

2010-02-18T22:20:00.003-06:00

Democracy Now reports on the statement from the UN on the Military strategy in Marjah.

As US Seizes Marjah, UN Rejects “Militarization” of Aid

Afghanistan, a top United Nations official is criticizing the US-led NATO force for “the militarization of humanitarian aid.” Speaking in Kabul, the deputy special representative of the secretary general, Robert Watkins, said UN agencies in Afghanistan won’t take part in the US-led reconstruction strategy for the town of Marjah, where NATO has launched a major offensive. The UN has opposed plans for the US military to oversee aid distribution in Afghan towns. Watkins said, “We are not part of that process, we do not want to be part of it. We will not be part of that military strategy.” The US military says it’s now in control of Marjah and plans to install a new local government within weeks.

Sonia and Jamila

2010-02-17T09:36:00.010-06:00

So, here's the thing... Life is good, yes. But, I am not going to lie, I am in Afghanistan.

The teeter-totter goes up and down as if a ton bricks is on one side and the other is as light as a feather. The ton of bricks being the gated walls, guns everywhere, random spotting of taliban, news of another attack, choppers so close to the office you think they might be coming in for a visit, or even just a suspicious person around the corner. The other side is pleasant as can be, wonderful colleagues, comfortable living and passionate work. But you know when you were a kid and that teeter totter went back and forth too fast? Well, it made your stomach drop, like a the free fall on a roller coaster.

For a while, I wanted to sugar coat everything for everyone to let you know that I am safe (I am!), but that isn't going to help. The reality is, life is going to be a teeter totter over here, but like everything else in life, there is beauty in it.

Speaking of beauty in everything. Just the other night a friend and I went out for dinner and met a women who was doing an NBC special on Women's organizations. I am not sure when it will air, but kudos to her for picking up a piece of news other than something going boom. I can't highlight her piece, because it hasn't run, but my friend Missy works for the Global Fund for Women and they are doing some great work here and elsewhere in the world.

You can't help but want to ignore the 'drop' in the pit of your stomach when you hear the story about Jamila from GFW (above) or MP Barakzai (project from DAI) who are working to make change here in Afghanistan. They have dealt with much worse conditions and will continue to ensure them for long after we are gone, yet they have found a way to turn that 'drop' into hope. Hope for a better future for their children, their neighbors and their country.

My life used to be centered around balance. Balance is the key. Balance is important, yes, but maybe it is about stepping back and realizing the bigger picture of it all. For had I not put myself in the shoes of Jamila or Sonia (MP Barakzai), I would be a lot grumpier about a cold shower and a lot more scared when the neighbor is on his poach peering over with his AK47.

Sharing good media coverage

2010-02-12T02:23:00.003-06:00

30 Days Through Afghanistan: No Armor and Afghans Kabul

Lessons Learned

2010-02-12T02:09:00.000-06:00

So, education is the key to all things good, is what I have always believed. Not only that, but learning something for the first time usually teaches you pretty quickly to never do it again, and often provides a good bit of entertainment for others. Thus, here are a few of my lessons learned so far.

- Blondie
No matter how dark my hair is, I will always be a blonde, unless of course I travel to Sweden. Lesson learned: stick with what is all good and nat-u-ral in the world.

- Pants on the Ground
So I am sharing a bathroom (yes, college all over again), I enter wearing my jammies and leave wearing my jammies, but need to shower in between. No issue there you would think, but there is no separation between the shower and the rest of the bathroom (insert hot mess here). Ok, so it all works out, except when Anna's jammies are pants and she isn't thinking one woozy morning. Well she goes to put the jammie pants on and without wanting to get them wet, swooooosh she goes.... Anna on the ground (keep in mind that there is no sound proof barrier here and there was screaming involved). Lesson learned: wear shorts for shower time.

- Heeve, hoo
So I have mentioned we have armored cars, right? Ok, well that means these beastly SUV doors are heavy, I mean like 2-handed push heavy. Ok, well every day I need to take my work stuff to work (laptop, paperwork, etc) and my grab bag (essentials in case something should go wrong), plus it is winter here so I have a winter coat on and my scarf. Being winter here there is a bit of snow on the ground, but the sun also comes out, so there is an ugly mix of mud, slush and snow - creating for awful conditions. Anywhoo, I go to get into the car last night, in typical bag-lady fashion with my feminist "I don't need your help to close the door" approach. Well, Karma got me good, down goes one of my bags, my foot slips into a nnaaasty puddle and my pants and full of mud. The security guard is trying really hard not to laugh at me and I am try for the life of me to hold on to my other bag and I snort about 3 times (probably the first time the Afghan has heard anyone snort). Lesson learned: Sometimes we need a little help from each other (or we will end up in a puddle of mud).

What goes around comes around
Never in a million years did I think I would be here, but here I am and loving it. One thing I always try to do is to always build positive relationships with people. If things didn't work out, let it be, no need to spread bad karma. If they did - spread the word! So it goes here, I have met a lot of people here, many who I have never worked with, but I have heard such good things about. Also, as I meet them, they say the same about me - and what a great feeling that is. Lesson learned: don't burn bridges and keep the spreading positive vibes (as they may come back).

Alright, working half day today (today is our one day off) and then heading to town with a co-worker to some shops, out to brunch and then who knows what. Have a good day and please keep me posted on all good things in your lives.

News Flash!

2010-02-10T21:19:00.002-06:00

Life is grand: I have hot water and amazing water pressure. What more could a girl ask for? It is the little things in life!

Ok, that is all for now. :)

In Kabul with a smile

2010-02-10T21:18:00.000-06:00

Thousands of news stories I have heard over and over again and they had built up so many expectations in my head, honestly, I must tell, it isn't at all what I had expected (from what the media had laid out). We flew in over the most beautiful snow covered mountains, rolling hill after hill, just miles of natural ice. The plane I was in was a pleasant mix of Afghans, international workers and military personnel, though I must admit, I was probably one of five women. The airport was safe and secure, much more functional than most developing countries I have been to, and people were rather friendly (maybe even too friendly). "Ma'am, you have beautiful eyes", "oh ma'am, I will help you, with anything you need", a bit of a friendly welcome I received, I would say. My head was covered, which was a strange feeling, but one I am sure I will get used to. Strange I say, not because I mind doing it, but because I know I am not doing it right (haha). Off we went from the airport.

From the airport we travel with 2 cars, to be safe (they are armored - meaning if gunfire comes it would take a lot to get through it). Traveling through Kabul, I felt very safe.

It is winter here, about 30 degrees, but little snow. The offices are chilly, but the energy warms the air. I am staying off site at one of our other guest houses, but will be moving to a new one we are building (oh la la), which is expecting to be done in the next month, inshallah.

Thus far I have seen a few friendly faces, which is always great. I ran into an old colleague flying from DC to Dubai and she is out here for the next two months. Another friend ran into my office as I was leaving yesterday and surprised me. So there are a few familiar faces! Apparently there is a BIG social scene here, which I am sure will provide many a great stories for all of you to come.

Alright, not much of a theme here, I apologize, just wanted to get the basics out (plus its 4am) and let you all know I am safe and doing fantastic!