I had a farm in Aa-fri-ka...
- as if it is dripping like sweet, thick honey and eliciting visions of unequivocal wilderness, seemingly mythical cultures and unbridled adventure. (If you haven't seen the movie, watch it just for that line. Oh and Robert Redford.)
Af-ghan-is-tan, said with the same honey drip (go ahead try it), elicits the same visions for me.
Ever since I read the novel by Dervla Murphy, Full Tilt, whereby in 1964 this amazing, adventuring Irish woman cycled solo through Afghanistan on her way from Ireland to India, I have been fascinated with its cultural and geographic isolation from the West. Her written experiences portrayed a deep connection with the people, the wilds of the country and the cultural traditions reminiscent of Persia and Arabia that have clashed and combined.
Centralized as Afghanistan is on numerous trade routes, as it touches borders with Pakistan, China, Tajikistan, Uzbekistan, Turkmenistan and Iran, it is a tribal melting pot that continues (as we are well aware) to challenge peace even today. Add to the fact that the majority of the population now live below poverty, the climate is harsh and it is in the direct path for the US to move oil from the break off states of mother Russia, Uzbekistan, Tajikistan and Turkmenistan, to a major port in Pakistan, this country seems destined for war. And wars there have been.
News, though, has a way of focusing on the spectacular, the bombs, the war and forgetting about the people that still live there day to day, etching out a life in a country torn apart. News has a way of presenting a situation with one side of the story, and we, in the West, can disconcertingly become immune to the stories if we hear too many of them or don't have a direct connection.
And it is all of these thoughts (and more) that has inspired me to jump at the chance to go there myself. To see and smell and hear and feel this country and it's people, myself.
As I prepare to leave on Wednesday, I have to admit that I haven't put a lot of thought into the reality of going. Could be a number of things: I haven't had much time to actually think about it, or I am avoiding thinking about it as I am a bit on edge about it. Probably both.
"Will you have culture shock?" I asked Pete during one of our many safety meetings. We had already established that I will probably have some shock to contend with.
"I think I will have culture shock, watching you have culture shock. As a woman going to this country where some will politely listen, but disregard what you are saying or just ignore you because you are a woman."
As a woman, to support my purpose for going there, I don't want what I am wearing to distract from the job that I am there to do. So, what I have spent the most time thinking about is what I will bring to wear to be appropriately dressed. There is a complexity to this in my mind: I want to look professional, but hyper-respectful, and yet I will have to cover myself because I am a woman. That is the reality.
If you know me at all this goes against every fiber in my body, to submit to the age old insecurities and weaknesses of men (that's my opinion of it) that has now become a cultural norm. But I knew going in that this was the reality. I do not have to wear a burka, but my head will have to be covered most of the time. Long, contourless clothing that covers any part that makes me look female is pretty much what I have been told to aim for.
My cultivated curiosity has brought me the opportunity to go, but now I am trying to put all my preconceptions aside. To be as open as possible, so that from the confines of my 'secure' locations, I can experience Afghanistan for who and what it is today.
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