In The Land Of The Brave

What a joy and relief! The young Swiss couple that was abducted last summer while traveling through Baluchistan was able to escape and approach an Army outpost, leaving behind nine months of ordeal. They maintained an incredible spirit of survival and supported each other admirably over these long months. Now they share with us their endured hardship, accompanied by many laughters of relief and joy before being repatriated to Switzerland. At our guest room they spend their first night in freedom and I serve the rich chocolate cake at the Embassy that I had put in the freezer on the day of their capture and promised to bring it out only on the day of their liberation to celebrate their freedom. Luckily, it is still eatable, actually the most welcomed delicacy imaginable...


Afghanistan - a short visit (well, that was the plan...) to Kabul to celebrate ten years of Swiss development cooperation and the visitor is being welcomed at Kabul International Airport by a large and empty arrival hall and a Duty Free Shop that leaves nothing to wish for - as long as you are looking for cigarettes.

A huge poster at the exit of the airport promotes not the beauty of the country as one would expect, but an interesting slogan and I hope I can live up to such expectations during my stay.

A what could be short drive on a highway to the city turns into an odyssey through dirt roads for security reasons, the streets muddy and bumpy, the armored car bouncing adventurously, giving the feeling of a boat ride on rough seas. The snow has melted for the most part and the city with many streets on clay soil is slowly turning into a city of dust during the days of my visit. Dust is everywhere and a violent sandstorm will be delaying the departure, technical failure, crashed computer systems, a bird hitting another plane, overbooked flights and sandstorm in Dubai add to this, and my stay gets extended by two days with several drives to and back from the airport - by now I know all routes leading there.


Meeting Samira Hamidi, the Director of Afghan Women Network, the umbrella organization of 92 Afghan Women's organizations, I am surprised to be welcomed and identified first as a visitor from Pakistan and the discussion start with the complex relationship between the two neighboring countries, before we change to topics related to women. I encounter a deep resentment of alleged interferences in the country's affairs particularly by Pakistan. But there is also appreciation for the considerable relief efforts in favor of refugees that found a home and some education, having better perspectives upon their return as coming back from other neighboring countries. She herself acquired a Master's degree at the University of Peshawar in Pakistan.

Many women's organizations were founded after the fall of the Taliban regime, but there is growing concern, that the current government is backing away from supporting them,  having other priorities and shying away from confronting the raising conservative forces in the country. Harassment of women in public spaces, be it with words or inappropriate touchings, is one of the bigger concerns in their daily lives.

The street life looks so different here and to my surprise there are many women, mainly younger ones, dressed in tight jeans and even leggings, covered only by a mini skirt or a knee long coat western style, and a scarf, of course, while I was expecting those famous sky blue burkas. Not many of those to be seen in the center of Kabul.

Fashion designer Zolayka Sherzad founded the brand Zarif and uses wonderfully rich Afghan silk fabric for her unique creations of coats and jackets - the prices for her artworks reflect the budget of the many expats living currently in Kabul and would perfectly match on Madison Avenue!

Nancy Hatch Dupree, a living legend in Afghanistan with a profound knowledge and understanding for this troubled country, tells me about the awakened fashion sense of Afghan women at the beginning of the 20th century and that they used to follow Western fashion with great enthusiasm. Born and educated in Upstate New York, she followed her husband Dupree, a famous archaeologist at the time, to Afghanistan in the sixties and stayed here ever since. She acquired the name "Afghanistan's Grandmother", knowing this country as probably no other foreigner does. She is deeply engaged in saving its cultural heritage as well as raising awareness and understanding for Afghanistan abroad - and a sharp writer herself. At the age of 86 she still has a magnetic presence and personalities in high positions encounter her with great respect and succumb to her charm.

The city's security concept is impressive - arms are everywhere, Kalashnikovs swung casually over the shoulders of anybody anywhere and one can only hope that they are secured and the bad guys can be distinguished from the good guys.

Still, an austere and inimitable charm can be found in this city of dust. Sitting on large pillows of Afghan carpets and dark wooden chairs with low legs, with warm burgundy and blueberry colors all around, restaurants and cafés offer simple dishes on earthen plates. They give a sense of the beauty of simplicity and natural hospitality in this country.

Afghan Refugees - Lasting Guests

Great news for all OTR ladies in New York and Wild Gang members in Islamabad, who kept their fingers crossed - she won the Oscar for her documentary "Saving Face"! Sharmeen Obaid-Chinoy, the first Pakistani to receive and hold this "Naked Man in Gold" (as it was described in a local newspaper!) in her hands. Much joy and pride - only a few voices of concern, that the film might add to an already negative image of this tormented country.
It will certainly support these poor affected women, to bring these hideous crimes on the agenda and last but not least to her work and her great commitment to stand up for the weakest and most vulnerable in this society.

A visit to an Afghan Refugee Camp in Peshawar near the Afghan border begins with tea and biscuits offered by the elders from the community, who express their needs and concerns about the future. After thirty years of hospitality to a large number of Afghan refugees, currently still 1.7 million registered and supposedly another million unregistered refugees,  the Pakistanis are increasingly impatient to see them settling back in their own country of origin. The elders see big obstacles to a successful relocation, as the  lack of security, shortcomings in law and order and governance as well as land disputes that would not allow them to settle as farmers anywhere, giving them no perspective to generate an income to support their families and most of all a paralyzing uncertainty about what will happen after ISAF troops withdrawal by the end of 2014.

The atmosphere is friendly and calm, but sorrowful. The camps became such permanent institutions, that the younger generation's identification with their own country is very limited, living here as Pashtuns among Pashtuns, hardly distinguishable from the local Pakistanis.
The repatriation centre established by UNHCR in 2002 is empty at the time of our visit - still winter with ice and snow in Nangarahr and Kabul Province, where the majority of these refugees come from. The registration for resettlement allows a repatriation assistance of 150 Dollars per person. There is a sophisticated biometric database to ensure that people apply only once for their return package. Fathers and children appear with their photo on the registration form - wives with their fingerprints only.

An elder, who guides me through the camp, invites me into his house: a very modest single room, the earth floor covered with mats and a fire place in front of the house besides the entrance. Three women greet me with excitement, but the conversation is rather limited due to my lack of Urdu. To make me understand the relationship among them, the older woman squeezes vigorously her breast and points to the younger ones in the room to demonstrate that they are her daughters whom she breast fed - at least that is what I assume she meant to show!

The walls show the signs of last year's heavy flooding with brown marks five feet high above the ground; one can only imagine how the camp must have looked like at that time. A water pump in the middle of a street provides water for drinking and washing, the youngsters carry the heavily filled  containers to their homes.

At the schoolyard of the primary school two girls manage the refreshment shop for the break and I buy a package of rice crisps on chicken/mushroom/cream sauce (??) for 10 rupees (10 cents). Many interesting delights on that table, imported from the western snack industry with unfamiliar flavors added for the local market!

Schooling is taking place - on the floor, cramped together in a small room, exercise book and pencil in hand, girls and boys mixed and the plastic sandals lined up in neat rows in front of the class rooms. Schoolbooks are scarce, the black board is the main if not the only tool for the teachers.
Only a third of the children get a basic education, two thirds remain illiterate, despite the ongoing support of numerous humanitarian institutions.

The three hour long drive back home leads through the greener part of Khyber Pakhtunkhwa (formerly known as North West Frontier Province) with first blossoms of a rich variety of fruit trees (thanks to a project from the Swiss Development Agency many years ago, named "tutti frutti", and still known among the local population under that name).
The golden light, that I find only here in Asia, softens the impressions of this day, lets the scenery glow in intense colors and me finding some distance and peace again.

Arriving in Islamabad at the Enclave, the unique sound of thousands of cawing crows, these large black birds sitting in the leafless trees as if being part of them, an incredible population of croaking flying animals, always present here, hits me and announces the early evening hour. Back home again!