November 31

Second attempt to fly to Samagan Province, near the Uzbekistan border. I was with my Program Manager, Nasrulla and Anne. The early morning drive to the airport was through the thick layer of diesel and wood smoke; we had to drive by a large intersection where last Friday a suicide bomber tried to hit a military convoy, but failed. We arrived at the airport entrance and had to go through 2 armed check stops, complete with a motley crew of police and German Sheppard dogs. Getting through was relatively easy, once the police did the mirror check under the van and the dirty looks to us. We then got out and had to queue for the security check of luggage which moved very slowly. While standing in line, a western man approaches and bitterly complains about the line up and asked why it is…I thought, this guy must be an American and sure enough he was, an actor no less who bragged about his Afghan-US movies. The line moved slowly, but some Afghans were able to move ahead of us, and I quickly learned why, when I saw money being paid to the police dude. We got to the security xray station but it was not working, so they were searching the bags by hand, but for Afghans only. We presented our id and were allowed to pass by without any check at all, go figure? We then walked to the UN flight area and waited in the lounge with several other westerners’ enroute to some where. While waiting we watch Aljezza TV News casts about the recent bombing in Bombay, the airport siege in Bangkok, the war in Congo, the violence in Nigeria and the global economic slow down affecting the automotive industry…no good news at all. My cell phone rang and I had to deal with the ongoing saga of bureaucracy of getting an MOU from one government department to the Department of Defense (another blog in itself) so that we can begin delivering tanker water to an IDP camp in Kabul, which is now 2 months late. Finally got to board the small prop UNHAS (Humanitarian Assistance Service) plane headed for Mazar-Sharif. As we taxied to the air strip, I was able to see the extent of the military protection for the airport and it was impressive. As we flew out of Kabul, we immediately went over the large mountains of the Indo Kursh range going north. An hour later, we were to touch down in Kundez to let some passengers off, however, the pilot came on the radio to say, he could not get radio contact at the airport, so he was going to buzz over the terminal to get there attention. This was done, but still nobody was home and thus the plane never did land and those passengers were forced to move on to Marzar... how crazy is that? We arrived 45 minutes later to a flat and desolate desert area, close to Uzbekistan border. We were picked up by the base head Ahmed, a young guy of 30 years and our unmarked Toyota four runner truck and began the 1 hour and 30 min drive to Aybak in Samagan Province… the poorest but safest Province in Afghanistan. The landscape was surreal with camels and donkey carts on the road, we clearly had gone back in time a 100 years, except for the old blown out Russian tanks that dotted the landscape. Enroute we stopped in to see the District Governor to get his opinion of the water and sanitation situation, which took over an hour, however he was most helpful, yet he was political as the elections are coming in a few months. ACF is one of the few NGO's working here. We carried on to Aybak town, to where the ACF office and guest house was located. The town was something out of movie…from days gone by. Approximately 80,000 people try to carve out an existence here. Only 5% of the population has access to safe drinking water, the average daily income is 50 cents US, only 19 % of the population can read and write. This area used to be the bread basket of Afghanistan but it has endured a long drought where famine has occurred complete with an outbreak of cholera last year for 1600 people. We arrived at the guest house to a warm welcome. As usual there was no electricity other that for 5 hours every night. A feast of goat kabobs were prepared in addition to a stew of chic peas and the foot of the goat…no thanks! We then met to plan the strategy of the next day of which villages and people we would need to visit. Shortly after wards and to my great surprise (another surprise) a 40 oz bottle of rare Russian vodka was presented! 4 glasses came out and the white liquor with a medicinal smell was poured. My phone went off and it was my mother!! Who called via skype just checking in… how surreal was that? By 11 pm it was time to call it a night.