Recent History of Panjshir

I was up early and went directly to the office to see if I could get a faster connection to the Internet. They are on a wireless router here on the FOB and it seems that there just isn’t enough bandwidth for everyone. Last night I tried in vain to upload photos with my blog and on to Facebook. I was unsuccessful at both. Thankfully I was able to get a blog (minus photos) out very late before heading to bed. As I tried to go too sleep, one of the residents of my B Hut snored so loudly and consistently that I had to use earplugs. That did the trick for me but not for Dave K. He woke up feeling miserable because the resident was right next door to him. I wasn’t successful at getting any better signal this morning so I gave up and went to breakfast. There was no hot breakfast this morning because it was Sunday and they have brunch on Sundays from 9AM to Noon…that meant we would miss a hot meal because we were setting out at 8:30.

We headed out right on time, again, no large convoy – just two vehicles with Greg, our USDA PRT team member, a few US military personnel and the two man mujahedeen security. A couple clicks up the road and we had to turn back because Dave K forgot his still camera. He wasn’t having a good morning. We finally made it to our first visit where the group met with a local contractor who was in charge of a fruit tree farm donated by the Japanese. There were the usual greetings and tour of the facility where DK did his thing. Once we finished at that location we decided to go and film some relics of the Soviet invasion. Scattered about the Panjshir Valley are literally hundreds of skeletal remains of Soviet war machinery. Tanks, armored vehicles, trucks and transports dot the landscape.

Over twenty years ago in the midst of the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan, this valley turned out to play a crucial role in the beginning of the end of the Soviet occupation.
Ahmad Shah Masoud was the leader of the mujahedeen in the Panjshir Valley. He was a ruthless but beloved “freedom” fighter and a great strategic warrior. The mighty Soviet military machine was no match for his cunning and more importantly his knowledge of the Valley. There were nine offensives in the Panjshir Valley and every one of them was unsuccessful. The Soviets lost 60% of all their casualties in the Afghan war in this infamous Valley. The decaying and scavenged relics of the Soviet army now lay as testament to the multiple defeats here. Masoud is revered here and is a cult figure like no other across this land but especially here. He became a martyr on September 9th, 2001, two days before the fateful day that would lead America to war with this nation. Ahmad Masoud was a mujahedeen, a freedom fighter, but he was no friend of the Taliban. As a matter of fact, he defied their advances into this Valley as fiercely as he did fighting the super power Soviet Union. Osama bin Laden realized that he and the Taliban would never defeat the Panjshir mujahedeen, so on that fateful day in 2001, two suicide bombers pretending to be reporters infiltrated the close circle around Masoud and detonated themselves as they met him. Most say the two acts, on the 9th and the 11th, two days apart were not a coincidence.

After a quick stop at the FOB for a pit stop (our excursions were all close to the base), we headed out to film some wheat fields that were being double cropped with apricot and cherry trees. The idea being that in 5 years, the farmers would be going from a low income crop to a very high value crop of fruits. Alas, when we got to the site there were women working in the fields and that meant we couldn’t do any filming. It is a cultural taboo to photograph women. The wrath of the villagers would be upon us even with our mujahedeen guards by our sides. You see, the women go uncovered while working the fields. When a woman is not working and walks the streets she is fully covered in her burka. Even then, photographing a female is prohibited. This is why the little girls in the villages we visit are so shy and self conscious.

Since we had some time on our hands, we headed to the Masoud Tomb. It sits on a hill overlooking the Panjshir Valley and is currently under construction. It is said that it will be a major tourist site in Afghanistan when it is complete. The “complex” will have a motel, museum and the tomb. On arriving at the site we had to ask permission to photograph on the site. We made our way around all the construction and the mujahedeen guards that were with us treated the grounds with great reverence. Because they were with us we got to go up to the mausoleum which is closed to the public until the construction is complete. There we saw the tomb and where the “great” Masoud lay. They took us to an overlook that had a spectacular view of the lush green valley below and explained to us that the walls around the fields that we saw were strategically built to represent the provinces and all of them together formed a replica of Afghanistan. It is said that this was Masoud’s “sandbox”. He would stand at the overlook and strategize with his commanders on tactics to defeat the enemy.

I found this lesson in the region’s history fascinating. Whether it’s the sophistication and military might of a super power like the Soviets or the ruthlessness, intolerance and savagery of the Taliban, neither could defeat a people who believed in their leaders, refused to be occupied by outsiders and defended this territory to the bitter end. This lesson is not lost on the US Military and NATO forces. They are using a strategy of cooperation, capacity building, improving infrastructure and genuinely making an attempt to help the people of Panjshir rise above the conflicts and fears of the past. As much as this area has promoted its autonomy and ability to withstand outside forces, maybe it can be the “model” province that promotes its effective and legitimate governance with the capability of providing essential services to the people and improving security and stability to a larger area of the country.

That might be too much politics for one blog…but the safety, security and stability is very evident to me as we are just visitors to a future tourist attraction.

What a Difference a Day Makes

After a very light breakfast and a call to Jason, I packed up the gear with Dave K and headed out to meet our ride. This morning we were accompanied by the USDA Administrator and his staff who were going up to another province for an official visit. We packed up in an up-armored van and headed to the airpark. There we saw our friends who check us in and they immediately recognized us, or more accurately, our gear. They are always intimidated by Dave because he is so protective of his camera equipment. We are traveling on a small Bell helo again, all by ourselves and our body guards, of course. We say goodbye to the other group and head off across the airfield to the chopper. This time we are given our briefing by a British gunner who goes over what is now very familiar information to Dave and me. We mount up and in no time we are above Kabul heading north toward our new destination beyond the snow covered mountain peaks ahead of us.

We travel up and over the mountains and find ourselves traveling along a beautiful valley between two impressive mountain ranges. After about 40 minutes flying time we begin to descend into a lush green area running parallel to a river. In the distance I see two columns of yellow smoke rising from what looks like a soccer field. As we get closer I realize that the smoke is intended for us and the LZ is a soccer field. Once we land and disembark, being careful of the still spinning rotors, we are greeted by two SUV's, a couple soldiers, a mujahedeen soldier and our USDA PRT host for the next few days. Even before we gather all our bags the helicopter is already up and heading back to the city. We load up and head toward the military base which is about 10 minutes up the road. On the ride up, my host explains that this is how they travel here. The provincial governor is a former Mujahedeen and his militia is the protection for the base. We are in a very autonomous area and the safety here is based on the reputation of the governor and this area that has withstood the Soviet invasion in the 80’s and the Taliban in the 90’s. Everyone that has tried to occupy this area has been turned back. Because of the relative safety of our FOB (Forward Operations Base) I can say that we are in Panjshir, a beautiful, relatively new province in the north. The national hero Masoud who was assassinated in 2001 was from this area and his image is everywhere. All his posters and photos remind me of Bob Marley.

We enter the base and I am surprised to see no high walls or ultra secure perimeter. There is wire fencing and the mujahedeen guards are very evident at all the check points. We remove our body armor and we’re told we won’t need to wear it during our stay here. We keep it close at all times but it is a relief to know I won’t have to carry the extra 30lbs on my person. We get the proverbial tour and introductions. The size of the base makes it a very short tour. It is almost like a small outpost. Our host takes us to our “B Hut” where our hooches are located. Again, everything is so relative. I am actually excited to see that we have little individual wooden cells with a bed and closet. The smell of fresh cut wood is in the air. This building is obviously very new and its just open studs and plywood. As bare as it is I still appreciate the “privacy”. A very short walk behind the B Hut is the showers and toilets. I ask why it’s called a B Hut, feeling like the accommodations are like a bee hive with tiny compartments, 8 in all. But my civilian host doesn’t have an answer so I’m going with the “bee hive” theory.

We have lunch in the small, intimate mess hall and like all the other bases we’ve visited, the food is very good. After lunch we’re invited to go out on a short mission to deliver some tree cuttings to a demonstration farm within sight of the FOB. We drive over in two armored SUV’s, escorted by our host, two US soldiers, two mujahedeen soldiers and an interpreter. No HUMVEES, MWRAPS or big gun toting military escorts (the mujahedeen do carry AK’s). The scenery around us is just spectacular. We are in a valley right next to a flowing river with majestic snow covered mountains looking down on us. Dave K is so enamored by the surroundings and is excited to be shooting in this environment. Then we get the invitation to do something Dave K has begged for since we’ve been in country. We are told we can go in to the neighboring village and interact with the locals. What a treat it is for us to walk amongst the locals without a large military presence or us wearing IBA gear. The interpreter asks if its okay if we film the vendors in the marketplace and no one objects. Of course there are the usual curious children and elders but everyone is smiling and welcoming. I have absolutely no fear being here and I must be honest – it is the first time I have felt this way since arriving in country. This place is like an oasis in a desert of conflict and fear.

What a difference a day makes. Yesterday there is the fear of bombs detonating and today I walk with Afghanis who are genuinely happy though curious to see me.

Finally as we head back to the base we make a last stop by the river to get some video and photos. As we pull up, there next to the road are some shepherds with a flock of sheep and goats. The scene is one that could have taken place 1000 years ago. I stroll down to the river bank and as I take in all the beauty that surrounds me my heart is heavy once again. I just can’t help thinking about all the death, destruction and attempts at conquering the people of this area that took place not very long ago. The valley is scattered with the rusted shells of soviet tanks. They lay stripped bare and scavenged over time. But they lay where the so many Russian soldiers took their last breath.

I quickly come back to the present when we’re told it’s time to head back. I am looking forward to the next few days. We will be venturing throughout this valley and the surrounding villages to get the success stories of the region. I imagine that each day my eyes will be opened to more beautiful landscapes as well as beautiful people.

Till next time….

Lock Down

What started out as a normal boring day here in the compound, instead turned into another exciting Afghanistan day.

It started out with me waking up late and surprised to find Dave K still sleeping. He is always the first one up. Then again I shouldn't have been too surprised. Last night we attended a small get together for the visiting FAS Administrator from USDA in Washington, DC. Being the usual party pooper, I had one beer, conversed with a few people and said my goodbyes early. Dave and the others however, obviously stayed a lot later and because I had in ear plugs and a night mask (you need those in order to block out the lights and noise outside) I never heard DK come home. When I woke him so he wouldn't miss breakfast, he wasn't feeling too well.

After a light breakfast, we returned to the hooch and watched a great game of playoff basketball between the LA Lakers and Utah. We enjoyed the last second victory by Utah and for the first time in a long time I felt a connection with sports back home. We watch TV but it’s the Armed Forces Network which has weird schedules and a lot of CNN and BBC world news.

Once I finished checking emails and answering a few of them, I decided to make good on my promise to myself that I would make it to the gym today. This was when the day went from ordinary to a little exciting. As I headed for the gym I was stopped by one of our well strapped guards who told me I wasn't going to be able to go over to the other side of the compound to my favorite gym. I asked why and he told me about an incident in the city this morning. I was determined to work out so I went to the gym on this side of the compound. On my way there I saw a few folks who weren't happy campers. Because we were on lock down no one could leave the safety of the Embassy no matter what business you had on the outside or your official status. At this point I said a quiet, "Thank you God", knowing I was being selfish. You see, if this had happened tomorrow we would have missed our flight out in the morning or worse...well, let's not go there...

I familiarized myself with the "new" gym and had a vigorous workout. I think the additional adrenaline coursing through me made it all the more intense. On the way back to take a shower I got a few more details and figured we might be in this mode for a while. I got back to our room and informed Dave K that we would be eating in the cafeteria on this side today due to what was going on. We were both disappointed as we have become friends with the Afghan proprietor of the cafeteria across the way and we've got used to the not so good food. In addition we had been planning to go to the Friday bazaar which is held on the NATO compound within the safe zone but this was obviously off limits until the all clear sounded.

A couple hours after lunch we got the good news that the restrictions were lifted and we decided to head to the bazaar. I know this will shock my wife, but I actually had fun shopping and bartering with the vendors. Most of the items were so junky and eclectic - they covered the gamut. Rugs, scarves, jewelry, all kind of weaponry and every kind of nick knack you could imagine – and some you couldn’t. The vendors were aggressive but friendly and I soon learned that whatever price they started at, I needed to offer half or less. I did not buy much but what I did buy I made sure it didn’t add too much bulk or weight for my journey back home. The best items that were a real bargain were the Afghan and Iranian rugs. They were beautiful and although I couldn’t trust the quality I was tempted to buy one for our den (I could ship it from the military base next door). And then I came to my senses – was I crazy? There was no way I could buy something for the house without consulting my wife. I called her later after returning to the Embassy and I think she agreed that it would be best if she was in on the decision. Unfortunately cameras aren’t allowed otherwise I could have used technology to have her shop from afar.

Now I am packing and preparing to head out to the next military base on our agenda. I just got word that it will be in the 40’s at night and 70’s in the day. Rain jackets are a good idea since it is spring in the mountains and thunderstorms are the norm. We are actually looking forward to this trip. Everyone we tell where we are going next has the same response. “It’s like a vacation up there – with the beauty, climate and safety in that region.” We are glad to hear about the climate and the safety, especially after our last embed.

I hope to stay in touch while we are out for the next few days. I wish everyone who is following along a warm and sunny weekend!

R&R

I almost forgot what a goodnight sleep was like...not waking up because various parts of your body had no feeling due to the hard floor under you or helicopters whomp, whomp, whomping outside your window was a welcome relief. I slept so well that Dave K had to wake me from a deep sleep to tell me the cafeteria would close in 20 minutes - that meant it was 7:40AM...As we hurried to the cafeteria 10 minutes later, Dave K and I looked at each other and knew we were thinking the same thing. Dave K said it out loud for both of us...we missed our buddy Murphy who would greet us on our way to breakfast every morning at our last stop.

This morning there was something different in the cafe. There were a few children sitting amongst the workers getting ready for their day at the office. As we ate our breakfast, more and more children, girls in bright colored dresses and boys in their finest, kept coming through the door with their proud parents. It was “take your child to work” day and of course, since the US workers had no children here, the foreign service nationals (FSNs) who make up a large part of the staff, were bringing their kids in for the day. Dave K immediately saw an opportunity and went to the security officer to ask permission to take pictures of the events throughout the day. The parents show such enormous pride, smiling from ear to ear as they introduce their children to coworkers. The children are given crayons and pictures to color while they wait for more families to arrive.

When I make it back to my quarters, Dave K is excited as he is given permission to videotape and take photos. I can’t take pictures so I will have to rely on him to share his photos. He takes off in a hurry and I know I won’t see him for some time. I call up Jason knowing although it’s midnight back in North Carolina he would probably be up. He is up and we talk for a while about some of my experiences and what’s going on with him in these last couple weeks of the semester. I miss my family terribly. We say our goodbyes and I love yous and hang up. On my own for the first time in many days, I scan the Internet and watch the end of the Denver, New Orleans basketball game. As I flip through the channels the Armed Forces Network is showing what must be a repeat of the signing of the Kennedy Bill for voluntary service. Given where I am and what I am experiencing I can definitely see the merits of serving your country in some way and giving back when you can. Being alone with time on my hands I feel a sense of melancholy as I decompress from the highs and adrenaline rush of the past few days. I fully understand that I am experiencing a minute version of what the soldiers must go through on their exit from the war zone.

After checking on my work emails and sending off my timesheet to the office I am off to lunch. Dave K had returned earlier from his photo shoot and went off to lunch without me because there is so much more to document. I know what a thrill this is for him. I eat lunch by myself and then walk around the compound enjoying the beautiful day. It is a warm and sunny day and as I walk by the recreation area I see a crowd of kids on an improvised playground. There must be over a hundred kids here today. They are playing volleyball, soccer, duck-duck-goose and Frisbee. In the middle of it all is Dave K. It is a sea of chaos as there are way too many children on the small soccer field. No one really cares though as the squeals of delight and constant laughter permeates the air. I can’t help myself and I inevitably find myself in the midst of the melee throwing the Frisbee back and forth. I show the kids how to throw and catch. On the sidelines, the parents watch their children intently enjoying seeing the activities as much as their children are enjoying taking part in all the games. As I look out on this very surreal scene I smile and say to myself, “what melancholy feeling?”…these children just exude happiness and joy and you can’t help getting caught up in their world of innocence. How thankful I am that this took place today. I feel blessed to have been a part of it. I say goodbye to all my new friends and head back to the hooch for a much needed rest. I had a blast!!

Later in the afternoon I am invited to a party this evening to welcome the USDA Administrator of the Foreign Ag Service who is here from Washington, DC to review the PRT program. I guess this is really a day of rest and relaxation and I will take full advantage of it because after tomorrow we are off again for about 8 days straight. I promise myself to visit the gym tomorrow. I am feeling a sense of guilt for not going today. Oh well, it is called R&R after all...

Journey Back to Kabul

We were up bright and early this morning because we had one last interview that had to take place before this morning’s mission to the Provincial Council meeting in town. If we weren't leaving this morning it would have been something to capture on film. The PRT civil affairs officer, from CAT Team Alpha, Sgt. Mahoney, met us right on time and we conducted the interview with the bright morning sun rising over the distant mountains. The civil affairs team conducts the "polling" of villagers during mission trips and meets with the key leaders in each village that they visit to ask about the needs of the locals. What would make their lives better? Whether it is improved roads, better crops or crop storage, improved sanitary conditions, electrification, or finding clean water sources, the PRT team members work diligently to bring these requests to fruition on behalf of the government of Afghanistan, so the people will appreciate the idea of a centralized government taking care of all of its citizens throughout the country. We finish up the interview and head off to the mess hall for a hearty breakfast before packing up our gear.

Before loading all the gear back into their designated cases and bags we walk over to the motor pool garage and ask if we can use their air hose to blow out all the dust that has accumulated and settled on, and in the bags. Other than water, dust is the worse thing for electronics, so Dave K is very concerned about all his camera equipment. Although we double wrapped the cases in large plastic garbage bags that we “stole” from the kitchen, the dust still penetrated everything when we were out driving on the desert roads.

As we returned to “Office Space” motel, I noticed Murphy the FOB mascot sitting in his favorite spot - a patch of soft sand, in the shadow of a building, out of the hot sun and away from the hard gravel rocks that make up the majority of walking areas around the base. I have become friends with Murphy because his spot is right outside the building we have been staying. Not that he needs another friend since he gets to play fetch with whomever is around at the time – and there is always a someone around, everyone feeds him and his ears get scratched by most passers by whether he wants it or not. Murphy is a lucky dog because a female army captain has officially adopted him and he will be going back to the US when she rotates out in a few weeks. I’m not sure if that’s good or bad for Murph…for his 9 months of life he has got so much attention on this base, I hope he gets at least half that when he is in America. I say my farewell to Murph and he gladly poses for a picture with me.

When I enter our small brick building into the outer office space and meeting room, there is an Afghani setting up a large mirror and chair by the door. Soon a message crackles over a radio near by - “The barber is in…the barber is in”. If I hadn’t been right next to him I would have thought it was a coded message for some base maneuver. Soon there were soldiers lining up to get what hair was on their heads cut off. Sgt. Lafond, my “bodyguard” from the very long “conop” showed up to get his trim. We greeted each other and I offered to show him the photos I took on the mission. He was ecstatic when he saw them and I offered to download them on a flash drive if he had one. That made his day! He asked if my butt had recovered from the long ride and told me soldiers who experienced those long convoy missions called it “flat butt syndrome”. The only remedy he told me was to go home to your wife or girlfriend and have her “fluff it back up”. We shared a few more laughs until it was his turn to take a seat in the barber’s chair. He tried in vain to explain to the non-English speaking Afghan that he wanted it “high and tight”. It was comical to see him gesture that he wanted zero hair around the back and sides and half as much on the top. Finally he gave up trying and said, “Oh, *%#@ it! Just cut it.”

Finally, we packed up an armored SUV and headed to the flight line to wait for our plane. We thanked DR for all the coordination and work he put in to make this such a successful trip. Our plane showed up right on time causing a cloud of dust in the distance as it landed on the nonexistent runway and rolled to a stop in front of our vehicle. I shook DR’s hand firmly, told him to be safe, to take care of himself through the rest of his tour and thanked him for his service. In his slow, easy, Texas drawl, with a twinkle in his eye and a shy smile, he said, “Now y’all don’t cut us out of the pitcher cause this place ain’t pretty.” I assured him that it was precisely because of the look of this place that this would be a highlight of the documentary along with his dedication, care and compassion for what he does. It was going to make one heck of a good story. “Well, I don’t know about all that but it is excit’n and I chose to be here,” he replied. With that, we looked each other hard in the eyes and I mounted the steps to my ride “home”.

After the co-pilot finishes refueling the plane (yes the co-pilot), he and the pilot go through their routine cockpit checks, confirm the flight plan and spin up the props to taxi speed. We roll down the bumpy, hard packed desert floor, pick up speed and soon we are banking left over the firing range of the FOB. Below us are the hulking remains of rusted soviet tanks strategically placed across the desert sand so they can be fired upon occasionally by 50 cal rounds from HUMVEE turret guns. Slowly the FOB disappears from my sight. I say goodbye to some of the most God forsaken land on planet earth. I know I will never set my eyes on this place ever again but it is seared into my mind forever. I will never forget! We slowly gain altitude over the craggy mountains and I am still amazed how this brown earth stretches in front of us all the way to the horizon.

I settle in for the flight back to Kabul. Never would I imagine that I would be looking forward to getting back to Kabul. Along with the three of us from USDA, Washington, we are accompanied by a Russian gentleman from NATO, a Canadian ISAF (International Security Assistance Force – is what the coalition force is called) reporter, two unknown Afghanis and a couple non-governmental organization (NGO) contractors. In what seemed like just fifteen minutes, the ninety minute flight was over and we were getting ready to land. We landed at the now familiar USAID airpark. The workers who greet us at the tarmac actually recognize us and greet us with knowing smiles. We will be seeing them a few more times in the next two weeks.

I am so happy to see my hooch. As I sit on the small, hard bed that I will never complain about again, I think about a private, hot shower and a visit to the laundry to wash away all the grit, grime and dust. In an hour I’ll be calling home to say hi for the first time in four days. I’m safe, I’m healthy and I have two days to rest and recover before we head out for the next adventure. Thank you Lord!!

Smiles of Innocence

I woke up this morning thinking I was going to be in a world of hurt due to the beating my body took yesterday. On top of that, the adrenaline rush kept me up until 2 AM when I finally forced myself to sleep. But surprise, surprise, I was feeling pretty good and I think the hard floor might have helped my back ache to disappear. I was proud of the old 50 year old body. I guess my workout routine is paying back some dividends by helping me to recover quickly.

After breakfast we had our briefing outside, in front of the lined up HUMVEES. We were given an updated assessment of threat levels, assigned our vehicles and told our route and tactics. In the midst of the briefing we were interupted as the stars and stripes was raised. Each soldier turned to the flag. "Present arms!" barked the mission commander. Everyone salutes as the flag is reverently raised to full staff. Back to the briefing...today’s mission will be like a drive in the park compared to yesterdays 11 hour trek. Even the hardened soldiers admitted that it was one of their most difficult ops since deploying. Glad I was there to share it - not! We will be visiting an Ag High School right in the heart of the town adjacent to the base. The USDA ag advisor will be teaching a class on irrigation and soil assessment and will also be distributing books that he personally researched and got donated to the school. The books are a number of different text books written in Dari and Pashtu the two languages of the region. The irony of this is that 2 months ago I was in Africa documenting the distribution of textbooks and learning materials to students in a number of countries across the continent. Thank goodness there are those who know that education is the key to eliminating so many ills due to ignorance.

Once again I stuffed myself and my armored body into the tight quarters behind the driver of vehicle 4. I must have ticked someone off because I was again in the rear vehicle which means we eat everyone else's dust. Oh well, it’s a short ride and half of it will be on a paved road. The convoy does its com checks and last minute safety checks and we roll out of the compound at 8:40 AM. It's a slow and steady ride through the middle of the bustling town. Everyone is up and engaged in the commerce of this town. Its population is somewhere between 20 and 40 thousand. There isn't anything like a census here so numbers vary greatly. We pass by the market stalls that have fresh fruits and vegetables of all color. There are also stalls selling house wares, pots and pans, shoes, dresses and burkas. Bicycles and motor cycles bob and weave through the streets and the children start to wave, as usual, since we are the main attraction of the daily parade. With all the chaos around us I feel the tension in the vehicle as there is no idle chatter, just eyes darting back and forth keeping a close eye on all the activity around. The gunner is in constant motion swiveling the turret back and forth. In less than 10 minutes we are at our destination. My body wants to scream out a big thank you for the short journey. Once we get the all clear we dismount and get another great surprise. Because we are in a walled compound that is considered very safe we are allowed to remove the body armor for the duration of our visit. Hallelujah!! The simple pleasures here in a war zone!

DR, our ag advisor goes through the usual protocol activities while my cameraman records all the greetings and salutations. DR quickly sets up his easel, introduces himself to the pupils and goes right into his lesson with his interpreter. The young men (of course no women are present) are very attentive and seem eager to gain some understanding of DR's lecture. He is explaining concepts of proper irrigation and soil analysis. Once Dave K is finished getting all the footage he can, we start to look around for other interesting visuals to film. My eye catches a very large and unique structure beyond the high walls surrounding the school and I ask our assigned soldier (we are closely guarded at all times) what it was. He tells us that it is a famous landmark in this province in western Afghanistan. It is a citadel (fort) that was built by Alexander the Great when he invaded this country in 330 BC. Yes, the invasions have been a constant over the centuries. Unfortunately we can't get close to the structure itself so we get a ladder (made of bamboo and not too sturdy) to climb on the roof of the school to get a better view. Once we are given the all clear and our security detail does a sweep of the rooftop and the vicinity through his rifle scope, we all make our way to the roof top. We are mesmerized at the size of the structure and how amazing it is that through all the conflicts, invasions, bombings and destruction in this place, this monument still stands today.

Once we get all the footage we need from this scenic vantage point we continue with our task at hand and follow DR to a small experimental farm on the compound where he teaches the students how to take soil samples. I conduct an interview with the Administrator of the school and then finish up by interviewing DR. Finally DR gets a large sack out of one of the vehicles and there is a small handing over ceremony in a classroom. The administrator and teachers are very grateful for the donation of textbooks and the students are excited to get to read them. Another successful mission, and one that will definitely be a highlight of the documentary.

All morning as I have moved through the campus I’ve noticed a little girl following me at a discreet distance the entire time. She must be a child of a teacher or caretaker - more likely a caretaker. No matter where I went and what I did she would follow, hide behind a tree or peak to see if I noticed her. She and her little brother were in awe of the soldiers and would just sit and stare at them when not following behind me. Finally, I began to take her picture and unlike what I experienced everywhere else, she posed and smiled instead of running away. She would smile, look directly at the camera, then she would pretend I wasn’t there. She was shy one moment and a young model the next. She directed her girlfriend and her brother on how to pose or smile. My heart suddenly ached when I saw such incredible innocence in her smile. What would become of that smile in a few years? Would it be hidden behind the cover of a burka or would it be as brilliant as it is today as she graduated from this very ag high school or a university in Kabul. Every where I go, every place I visit, the innocence of the children amaze me – how much do they know about their country being at war. Here, where women are second class citizens or worse, what will become of these little girls who have just as much potential to be whatever they dream to be as their male siblings? Here, where corruption is the norm and it is just the degrees of bad that matters since everyone is viewed with mistrust.

At the same time the little girl and her companions were stalking me, some older boys were also following us (and helping with the ladder) and constantly asked again and again for my gatorade which was sticking out the side of my bag. But I tell them (through the interpreter) that I need it more than they do. They're used to the debilitating heat...I am not. As I get ready to leave I reach into my pouch and pull out the unopened gatorade. I call over my new best friend and hand her the bottle. The boys did not like it. I got into the vehicle strapped myself in and up comes my friend to the window putting her hands to her mouth and pointing to her little brother. I had no more gatorade but there is no shortage of bottled water in the HUMVEE. So I opened the bulletproof window and hand over 2 bottles of water. She was her brother's hero as they both ran away gigling and feeling like the king and queen of the world.

Ah, the smiles of innocence…

I am back safely in my space now and I will be heading off to Kabul tomorrow. We finished up early and will get out a day earlier than we expected. I am looking forward to my bed and my own space again, right next to Dave K’s space :) We will actually get two days to rest up before we head out to a very safe and autonomous part of the country. It is, we are told, the most beautiful part of Afghanistan. Maybe it’s a good thing we have a 2 day stop over in Kabul. Going directly from this hot, dry, desolate and dangerous desert district to the spring flowers on an Alpine like mountain range where body armor is optional might have been too much for my psyche.

Stay tuned…

The Real Deal

Last night after we were briefed on our mission for today, I knew that this trip was going to be difficult. The convoy operation was going to be a long haul across some of the most desolate desert terrain on earth. I was going to be in the tight confines of a HUMVEE for hours at a time. There would be no lunch break or stops for food - energy bars and water were the order of the day. The bad guys were out there and we would be on high alert! However, nothing could have prepared me for the experience I was subjected to today.

We were up early, had our breakfast - good sustaining food - banana, oatmeal, eggs, waffles, oj and tea - I was thinking of the lack of food ahead of me. We then went into our final mission brief where we heard of the latest activities in the area and went over routes and tactics. Then it was time to load up and head out. I grabbed some Gatorade, made sure my bars were handy, wrapped my Afghan scarf around my neck knowing I would need it to filter out the dust later, then finally I squeezed my six foot four frame into a space that I swear was made for a man half my size. With all my armor on, stapped in and commed- up (headsets on), I was told my role in case there were hostiles.That part is always a little unsettling. Then the order was given to close the very heavy door and push the lever into its "battle ready" position.

Slowly we made our way out of the base and rumbled through the streets of the neighboring town single file. As usual we were greeted by waving children and the dagger-like stares of the older men. We quickly made it to the end of the paved road and bounced onto a gravel road that is considered a thoroughfare in Afghanistan. We ran out of gravel road in no time and we made our way toward our destination on what would sometimes be muddy tracks or fine, dusty, desert sand that stretched as far as the eye could see. Not 10 "clicks" from where we started we had our first problem. The first two vehicles in our convoy, while trying to cross a too deep canal, got water into their intakes and shut down. The convoy immediately went into alert mode and a safety stop was made. That means that a permiter was set and all eyes faced out and the gunners in the turrets constantly scanned the surroundings. After some time, the vehicles were repaired and we continued onward. THe tension was palpable as eyes scanned the road ahead intent on not being caught by an IED. Any foriegn objects or rocks that looked out of place was reason for vigilant scrutiny.

One of the objectives of our mission was to visit a village that had requested a pipeline be put in from the only clean well within 5 kilometers of their village. This would provide clean drinking water to the village. Today the residents walked back and forth to the well whenever clean water was needed. This was the story I was here to cover. A USDA ag advisor was going out with a military engineer and they were going to survey the area and determine if a pipeline was feasable.

Onward we rolled, kilometer after kilometer with the open expance of desert seeming like it went on forever. Although the vehicle had airconditioning, the gunner's turret was open into the cockpit so as the dust was kicked up by the massive tires ahead of us, we were all eating the fine mist of brown sand that settled on everything. Over the headsets there is constant chatter by the National Guardsmen from Illinois. They are the security detail for the FOB and take their job very seriously. They have to, as there have been incidents in this area within the recent past. In between the official communication between HUMVEES, there is talk of divorce, reupping, hearts broken by girlfriends back home and a somber tale of losing a buddy in combat not that long ago. In a very short time I find myself really liking these young men and having the utmost respect for what they do each and every day. Gunner Eldridge plans to sign up for another tour. Driver Austin contemplates his impending divorce between bad jokes and worse singing. Sgt. Lafond is my body guard today and he is constantly keeping the others focused but in a lighthearted way. The jokes are plenty and the cursing is constant - although they keep apologizing since I am a visitor. Lafond tells me that when they were assigned to Afghanistan, the men were pumped up to take the fight to the bad guys and as infantrymen they were ready to take them down. Then they were assigned to the PRT (Provincial Reconsruction Team) and now he is taking down the bad guys not with force but with goodwill and the helping spirit the team provides to improve lives and infrastructure throughout this province.

Suddenly through the 3 inch thick bullet proof glass I saw what looked like a scene out of Star Wars. A small village appeared on the horizon but the architecture and mud brick buildings had this otherworldly look. Rounded roofs behind ancient walls, all very precise and symetrical, looked like they were sculpted out of the same colored soil they sat on. We weaved our way through very narrow dirt paths that I'm sure the natives called roads. Several tight turns later we were at the other side of the village and continuing onward in our journey. Finally after a pit stop - with all the secuity drills as any other "safety stop", we arrived at our destination. No one was aware that we were coming (for security and safety reasons) so the elders are rounded up and asked to show us the clean well. While the advisor and the navy engineer survey the route of the pipeline, a civil affairs officer engages the elders and takes a "poll" of the situation in this village. Questions are asked through an interpreter and answers are freely given. We film, take photos of all the beautiful children who swarm around us asking for pens...not pencils, but pens. No one can tell me why pens are so treasured. The village is friendly and they are happy and looking forward to the day they don't have to drink "sour" water. DR, the ag advisor takes readings from one of the sources of water inside the village and the mineral content is 5 times the normal level. This could make animals sick, is not good for crops and most assuredly would cause stomach problems in the people, especially chidren, of this hamlet.

With the survey complete and the elder engagement meeting over, we roll out and head back to base. This is not a direct route back however. There are several more stops due to full canals which are not passable, more leader engagements in one or two more villages and rerouting due to safey concerns. The drive back seems to take forever. It has been 10 hours since we left the FOB when we make our final safey stop (pee break)...as I look around I cannot believe the environment I am seeing. All the way to the horizon there is nothing but desert. Flat and dry with not even a hint of green. What a desolate place. We are the last vehicle in the convoy and it is strange to see these intimidating military vehicles looking so tiny in this vast open space. Sgt. Lafond tells us to mount up and move 'em out. One last time I squeeze in, don the headphones and strap myself in. Everything around me is covered in dust. I feel the grit in my mouth and the dust in my throat. Eleven hours after we left the paved road, our HUMVEE crosses the final bridge before we enter the gates of the base. I thank the boys on behalf of my family and myself for taking me out and bringing me back safe and secure. "Our pleasure" they say in unison over the comm, "It's what we do and we're happy and proud to be doing it".

I ease my hurting, dirty body out of the big tin can and dust myself off before running to the bathroom washing my face and hands and heading to the mess hall. Chow time ends in 10 minutes! Before going to their mandatory debrief, all the men from the convoy beat me to the food line. Austin, Eldridge and Lafond all come over and as we shake hands and say our goodbyes I feel honored to be told, " Welcome to the REAL DEAL"....