Not the Usual Christmas

Marita sporting her new brace on leg

Carols play, bells jingle, people shop, ovens bake, presents gather under the tree. And it's happening this year without much from my corner. I DID get a friend to help me make eggnog pudding and Saltine Toffee Squares yesterday.....my attempt at holidaying. The problem came with letting go of the walker and stepping toward the stove. My bad leg went left and the other went somewhere else! I knew I was in trouble the second it happened, even before I hit the floor, but the question was what to do next? My friend called the Dr.'s office while I propped myself up on one elbow and gathered my legs together, feeling for a wayward hip bone. A brief attempt at getting up preceded the 911 call. The medics magically got a sheet under me and lifted me up onto their guerney without disturbing my intricately positioned pile of bones. Pat and I were doing the 'if onlys,' agreeing that we would not tell Jon until we knew how bad the news was! After what seemed like FOREVER, we were at the ER. My fear was that someone would make me move that hip without anaesthetic! No way was I going to! Finally, the drugs started to flow and I slowly melted onto the table and even saw, at one point, that I was flat on my back. Now, it could be that the repositioning could have taken place by then, but I wouldn't know. I guess it took some manpower to get it done. Today my surgeon came by and said it was the strangest dislocation he has ever seen! Did not go out the 'in.' The consequence is now I wear a brace from my waist to my knee, kicking my leg out at 30%.....for six weeks....always accompanied by the trusty walker!
I feel I have let Jon down by, perhaps, setting back my recovery date for returning to Kabul. I regret my laxity and wish I would have chosen better. I see the surgeon in two weeks and hope the report is good.


 CHRISTMAS FROM THE OTHER SIDE

HEAT FROM THE BUKAREE

 I'm sitting in the warmth of the sun shining through the dusty glass window of our living room, listening to Handel's Messiah. The heat of the sun is now greater than that from the small kerosene stove in the dining room that barely takes away the early morning chill of the otherwise unheated home we call "Darla's Place" across from Police Station #3. My night was restless: thinking of Marita half a world away, keeping an ear open to a possible Skype updating her condition, ruminating about the challenges of work that I face here, resuming work tomorrow. It's not the Christmas we envisioned: now separated on opposite sides of the world as Marita recovers with friends following hip replacement and, I, having just returned to continue my teaching/administration here in Kabul with Hope Family Medicine.

Christmas in Afghanistan

 Alone...in a quiet house without decor save for a small lighted tree on my desk given by gracious friends three days ago when I arrived from Dubai.

 After "Sinfonia", the text begins: "'Comfort ye, Comfort ye my people...'

IN THE DARK....

 Frustrated to learn in the midst of last night's Christmas Eve gathering at friend's that Marita was again in the hospital after a fall about 18 hours earlier. But our electricity was out all Christmas Eve day, so I had no clue until I took my laptop to the party to recharge it and check e-mail. That interrupted my part in the gift exchange just after my contribution of Tillamook

Cheese was opened. I didn't return to the to see the subsequent brutal battle for it's final resting place.

 "'Comfort...Comfort... my people...'"

 I was outside; walking, kicking rocks. Angry that the one thing she was not to do, the most important thing that might delay her recovery, had happened.

"'Comfort...Comfort...' says our God"

 Helpless, sad that Marita and friend Pat had faced such pain alone, now facing even more limitations in her activity for the long term and change in plans for the short term with family gatherings. Worried that now the admittedly tight schedule of recovery had been extended, likely to change our plans to visit Thailand in March with friends for rest and adventure and perhaps postpone my commitment to teach docs in Nepal.

 "'Comfort ye, comfort ye my people...'"

 Disappointed: I was looking to interrupt my loneliness by sharing Snohomish Pres' Christmas Eve service (my Christmas morning) with Marita via Skype using her new Mac Air; that plan now discarded.

"'Comfort ye, Comfort ye...'"

 Grieving the loss of plans, hopes. Alone, without each other.

 "He was a man of sorrows, acquainted with grief"

 In a land so accustomed to violence and unrest that within 2-3 days of a horrific blast killing scores near one of our clinics, the evidence of the carnage is cleaned and life goes on with apparent indifference. Grief counseling offered but left unused.

 "Surely he has born our griefs and shared our sorrows..."

 In a country where generosity and hospitality are tradition, parents live in insecurity, persistently anxious about the future of their children.

 "Speak tenderly...her hard service has been complete... prepare the way for the Lord... and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed and all mankind shall see it. The mouth of the Lord has spoken it

 "Hallelujah"

What Does God Look Like?

A visit home has meant so much to Jon and I!  We packed so much into our originally-scheduled time.
I had ANOTHER birthday and had plenty of help from the grandkids in blowing out the candles.  Jon and I celebrated our 45th wedding anniversary .....glad that at least we were together.  He extended his stay here by one week due to my hip surgery.

This photo, taken from my 'penthouse' room on the 10th floor of the new Providence  Towers at the hospital in Everett, shows the Cascade Mts. in the distance.  I had the hip replacement on Dec. 12, the day we were scheduled to fly.  The surgeon made a spot for me early  in his week and recuperation seems to be going very well.  I hope to return to Kabul mid-February to say good-bye to our friends there before moving on to Thailand and Nepal.
We can see now why we needed to come home!  Nepal would have been impossible without this surgery.

       Jon took a picture of our congregation at Snohomish Presbyterian (of which this is  half) to show his friends in Kabul what God looks like.  

They have truly been God's arms and voice to us these past 35 years as we have lived and grown in faith.   Every sabattical enlarges our family of faith, but there is no one like the 'family of origin,' both familial and communal.

        Jon flew out the morning of 19 December.  We will be separated for at least two months.  One month is our previous record for separation.  It will pass quickly, but, nevertheless, be lonely for both of us.  Jon goes back to a boarding house with only three other people besides himself .  Tillamook Cheese and Tuna Helper are going with him, as well as a supply of chocolate candy.  And he'll have the computer and camera!

I am living with good friends, Tom and Kathy, who seem to be blessed with few stairs, an extra bedroom, a firm recliner and an extra dose of hospitality.  We are grateful for their availability. Other friends are available for 'field trips' and visits.....I am well-supported here.

The blog will continue, although in a conversing manner, as Jon and I experience the next 2 months  quite differently.  He's missed his doctors in the residency as well as cohorts in service to the Afghans.  Snows should fall soon as temperatures dip, revealing yet another layer of Kabul beauty.

No matter where we are, or who we are with, we can celebrate the coming of the baby Jesus who has made all the difference in the world!  May your Christmas be especially dear and the  New Year promising.

Jon and Marita

Life's Interludes

Thanksgiving at the cabin included Ian and family(Jana,
Ben, Luc) and Uncle Matt.

This is one of those times when you think you are doing one thing and it ends up being a whole lot more!

Jon and I were blessed with the gift of a trip home to Washington state by our church family!  They passed the hat, so to speak, and covered us completely!  It was such an unexpected serendipity.  We have been showered, not only with Seattle rain but loving hugs, wishes, meals, beds, parties, grandkids.  Thanksgiving was a day late due to our evening arrival, but it was snowing as we travelled to the cabin near Plain.

Ice-skating with the grandkids for Marita's 66th birthday.
I didn't ice-skate!

IT was the perfect place to decompress from the trip and the previous five months of Afghan pressure.

So, this is what we did NOT expect!  Hip replacement! I have experienced increasing pain over the year, if not longer, which evolved into a limp in Kabul. We were quite a sight in the airports, both limping along with our bags....Jon has residual tightness in the left groin from his car accident in 1989.  We felt, and looked like we needed help!  Marita had made an appt. with both the doctor and dentist in Snohomish, to check in.  The dentist appt. went fine, but the Dr. sent me to a specialist for a possible injection for the pain.

Emma's school concert...she's in the middle left.

However, he took one look at the x-ray of the hip from last February and said, "That's shot.  You need a replacement!"  Talk about shock.... and relief, on  my part.   He recommended I do it now and join Jon later so that I could enjoy Nepal.  Without it I would be in great pain and sorely confined.  Nepal is all hills, no flat spots.  To verify that, I wrote to a doctor there we are corresponding with, and he heartily agreed.  So, after trips to see two surgeons this last week, one has been able to 'carve out a space'  in his schedule to replace my left hip.  I will be in surgery Monday, the 12th, at 3:30 pm.  Jon should be on the plane at that time, but is changing his leave date for a week.  A good friend has insisted I recoup at her house, so we're set for now!  If this hadn't happened in a timely fashion, we had alternate plans for the rest of the year, which were not our preference.  So, we, again, see God's hand in guiding and caring for us.  And lots of wonderful people who help him out!

Ava, Julia&Emma with the Gingerbread House we
decorated together.

Meanwhile, as you can see, we've had a grand time with our 'grands!' This is only a sampling and there will be more to come as I get to be here through the holidays and into the new year.  Of course, I will have to be a good patient or I won't be going back to Kabul.  It is important for me to be able to say 'thank you' and 'good-bye' to the wonderful friends I have there. So, I will be very co-operative with rehab!  I hope to return in two months....mid-February before we leave March 1 for Nepal via Thailand. My rehab-hosts will join us in Thailand for a vacation (Jon will need it more than I at that point).  Then we report in to Kathmandu for licensing and travel on to Tansen for 3 months.  We believe we can make that date and be in good health.

As Kabul still experiences upheaval, bombings, death and destruction, please pray for those innocent people, our new friends and colleagues,  who live under this stress.  Evil takes different forms around the world....we believe that God undergirds the poor and downtrodden.  

We desire to demonstrate the joy, freedom and hope born one quiet night in an oppressed and troubled Asian nation 2000 years ago.  There is ONE who LOVES, FORGIVES, and SUSTAINS life in this uncertain world:  Issa, Allah with us.

Luc and Ian entertained by their reflections in the
storefront window encasing the Winter Wonderland
Railway in Seattle's Macys.

Ian had to warm-up to Santa...interviewing him
here?  He would only stand nearby for the photo!

Dinner with Mosa's family

On Jon's birthday, (66) we were graciously invited by Musa, the doctors' driver, to have dinner with his family.  This is something we were hoping for eventually, but it took us by surprise.  We quickly postponed the birthday dinner we had planned for Jon until Thursday....and gladly accepted.  Bill and Jan were invited also.

Musa with Nazira...8 mos. old

Jon chose the occasion to wear the Perahan Tunban, an outfit of baggy trousers and knee-lenth shirt, topped with a sport coat.  Dr. D had left it here for Jon and he finally found a place to wear it.  Today he was given the Pakool, a wool hat with a flat top that sits on a roll of the cloth on your head....very warming.  So, Jon looks quite smart!'   I wore my black Abaya over my clothes and never took it off for dinner....nor the chAdar (scarf).  Musa had warned they didn't have their Buchari installed yet, so it might be cold.

Musa drove us to his home in Dashte Barchi where he and two brothers live with their families(total of 5 children) , plus their mother and grandfather.  One other brother with 7 children lives in another house but he came to dinner without his family.  We walked up a narrow alley to his gate, inside which was a yard of fruit trees, a water pump (no running water in the house), and tall rose bushes.  He wants Jon to show him how to prune them.

                                                                                                           

Jan washing her hands

Mosa serves us the food

Everyone eats once the eldest starts...me in the corner!

Jon 'relaxing' on the toshak

Once inside the house and our shoes discarded, Musa took us upstairs......"you are not guests, but family, he said."  The guest living room was on the main floor.   The "family" room is lined on three sides with toshaks and pillows.  Musa was very concerned about us crippled old folks whose maladies he's noticed as he transports us around town.  So, he piled up three firm cushions for me to sit on in the corner.  He tried to get Bill to sit on a stool, with his artificial hip that doesn't like to sit cross-legged......but Bill refused at first.  Musa found his children to introduce to us: Madina is 8, Nazira is 6 and Elcina is 8 mos.   His brothers, mother, cousin and nephew gradually arrived.  We had animated conversation for nearly an hour before the youngest boys brought a bowl, pitcher (aftaOlagan) and towels for us to wash and dry  our hands.




WE were seated the farthest from the door since we were the guests, thereby the most important!  And I guess I was THE most important as I was the first to wash my hands!  The 'destarkhAn' (oil cloth) was rolled out on the floor between toshaks and then set with implements before the food arrived.
Musa did an unusual thing and asked us to say the prayer before the meal.  Evidently Muslims pray after the meal.  Jon was delighted to ask Allah to bless this family and meal.






Rice is at the heart of every afghan meal, and it is prepared many ways.....all of them oily and flavorful.  Musa, as the host, spooned the food onto our plates....and kept piling it on!  They love having guests eat a lot!  On the menu was MantU, a gound lamb mixture in pasts and sauce;  cooked Spinach; ChapII Kabab, huge meatballs made of lamb, seasoned and sauced; Ashak, tasty pockets of spice in a spring roll wrapper, with meat sauce, yoghurt and spices on top; nAn and  fresh vegetable platters!  A scrumptious meal!  Afghan meals end with fruit and we were all given an apple with a small knife for peeling.




As the food settled in our stomachs, the humor spiked up.  Musa kept up his concern over our elderly frames sitting on the toshaks.  He finally got Jon to recline by showing him how.

Grandmother holding Elcina

Nazira had a headache all day, so Jon is listening to his lungs with a stethoscope Musa had on hand.  All signs pointed to a bad cold, like many have had.

Musa left the room at one point and returned with his hand behind his back.  "Which hand do you choose," he said, with his sweet chuckle.  Out came these canes which Musa was given many years ago.  He says they are antiques, maybe older than Jon!  And he wants Drs. Jon and Bill to have them.  He thinks maybe I could use Jon's!

  Musa has been an important person in Jon's day.   He drives him wherever he needs to go, and comes back to take me shopping at FINEST (grocer) maybe once a week. He changes money with the curbside banker, haggles prices for me with the local merchants on the street.  He'll go find Jon whatever gadget (heater, adapters,  toilet seat) he needs.  And he keeps Jon laughing.  They discuss Islam, the Qa'ran, the Bible stories (Moses is his namesake). Musa gives him his opinion on hospital gossip, the news, the culture, etc.  He's only 34 years old....the age of two of our own children.  He has worked for foreigners connected to NGO's for nearly ten years.....since the Taliban was ousted.  Before that he lived in Pakistan for a few years.

 Musa is one of our cherished friends here and we were so  grateful to have been invited to his home......and for the bounteous spread his wife prepared for us.  These are the fruits of our visit to Afghanistan: relationships. When he took us home, he said this was one of his best evenings.  I think Musa makes lots of 'best evenings' for many people as he chooses to see life that way.

THANK YOU!!!

Afghan Carpet-making

Mountains surrounding Kabul.  We live near the Mt. on the right, dubbed 'TV' Mt. for all the towers on it.  Graveyard in the foreground.

Mosa showing us the frames the carpet is worked on.

Now we've seen a family-based carpet business here in Kabul!  Actually Dashte Barchi, a large neighborhood near Afshar hospital, above the city.  We could see the mountains ringing Kabul, with the higher ones topped with snow(to the left and right of this photo).  The Drs.' driver, Mosa, took us to his eldest brother's shop where we were shown, step by step, the process.

The 'guard-cat' for the wool sack?

This pot is the dying vat for the wool that is imported from Iran, Pakistan and Australia.

I wasn't in the room for this one....looks like a scale for measuring the wool.






These are the carpets 'in the rough.'  They have been knotted and rolled up.  When a rug is sold, it is taken to Pakistan, a few hours away, to wash and trim.  It takes a hearty supply of electricity and water to do a proper job......Kabul does not have enough of either.  The shaggy side that is showing becomes the short, smooth pile that fine carpets are noted for.   So, the pattern on the underside is what someone looks at to choose their carpet.....colors and pattern.

Calculating the size and cost of this carpet

Above is Mosa with his eldest brother (in the
white hat) and relatives who work in the business.



Children watched as we climbed to the roof (we were nearly there already!) and took photos all around.   The sign on the wall is typical of how businesses and streets are marked.










Driving home through Dashte Barchi....
One of the nicer streets.
Schoolgirls dressed in black with white headdress are walking home.










 People are buying wood for their bukharis
(small stoves vented into every room that needs warmth....usually only a couple) unless they choose kerosene, diesel, coal, charcoal or propane fuel.
Our dining room has kerosene and we light it in the evening for dinner.  An electric heater is in our bedroom, but what if the electricity goes off?  Open the door and light the kerosene stove!

Kilns for making bricks

Women Only

I've collected a few experiences that involve us women.  A woman in Afghanistan is vulnerable, whether you were born here or came here to befriend.  Depending on our purpose here, our contact and influence on Afghan women varies.  It amazes me when I see young expat women are here, by themselves, to teach, heal,  minister to, and nurture Afghans.  In the city of Kabul it is possible to converse with both men and women, as a woman; whereas in the village, more traditional standards require complete separation.

                                                                                    The first event  I share is a birthday party for  Linda, who lived where we do now.  In the transfer of  occupancy, we have become friends.  I felt privileged to be invited to her party....will not divulge which year!  She is the dark-haired one in the middle
of the row.




                                                                       Another women's event was a baby shower, altho
a couple men came to keep the dad company.  Baby Micah has been featured on our blog before, but Debbie (in the pink) wanted to give them a party.  She invited some of her Afghan friends, so we ate on the floorcloth (a desterkhan) and sat on toshaks (except for some like me).
One thing about gift-giving here.....you are not supposed to notice it when it is brought....put it aside and say nothing.  Natalie opened the gifts after nearly everyone was gone.

 The guests included the young women who teach at the International School of Kabul....here to the right.  I have been an aide in some of their classes.

To the left is  Debbie's houselady, holding baby Micah. Often the employees of M's have worked for many thru the years and are dear friends.

                                I got a good share of my Christmas shopping done one Saturday morning recently.  The Herzara ladies who do exquisite embroidery came to show us their wares.  There were four altogether, but I persuaded two to be in the photo.   We probably bought enough to feed their families and fuel their homes for the winter!  That is the kind of shopping I feel good about.


Another women's event was a fun-filled few hours  at our Community Center, playing games (Bunko a different way?),
listening to women with tremendous testimonies, and a great lunch!  The skit shown at the right was hilarious......buck teeth and all......two visitors dropping into Kabul wondering about all this tal-i-ban talk and wondering how to be-have.  Laughing at ourselves is always good medicine!

A real special treat was having High Tea at  The Serena Hotel with Debbie and her two friends visiting from the US!  We donned our black Abayas and headscarves and dubbed ourselves the Queens.  The Serena is THE hotel in town for expats.......luxurious furnishings (by afghan standards anyway), clean, gracious, and food we can get nowhere else.....besides the High Tea, there is an Ice-Cream&Pastry Bar, an Afghan Restaurant, and a Euro-style Cafe with a buffet to die for.  It was a delight to have our choice of savory treats and then the sweets.  We even managed to drink tea!

This week an angel, in the form of Scott, came to cut hair in Kabul!  His wife supports the Salon that has trained deaf girls to do the services.....I have had a haircut and pedicures there.  But Scott has come with Holly now and again, throughout these nine years, to touch base with friends they've made...and to be a blessing.  And many of us got 'the best haircut of our lives!'  He even highlighted mine!  It is their Afghan son, Joseph, whom my friends are praying for.  Everyone expects a miracle with him......meanwhile Scott and Holly are being a blessing in Kabul.

WEll, that covers my feature of 'women's business.'  Gals have their needs and ways of getting them met.

PTL!  

Afghan Wedding

We were the honored guests at an Afghan wedding this last week. We'd been notified that we were on the list but that the invitation would not come until two days before.  The groom is the business manager at Morning Star Guest House and became engaged this last summer.  At first they were not getting married for at least a year as the bride needs to finish high school and wants to go to university.  Somethingchanged!  Akram's mother 'found' this girl and the parents negotiated for her favors favorably.  Akram had not met her, but saw a picture, and liked
what he saw....a pretty girl.


Weddings are an outlandish event here.  The groom is obligated to spendthousands of dollars to prove how much he loves his betrothed.  It is a 'test of honour' for him and both families.  It has actually become a national issue, with an attempt by the government to create a law limiting expenditures and size  of parties(on the wedding halls), as well as many other restrictions that are more Taliban-friendly than the present laws  allow.  So far, it is not gaining popularity, but the

competition of showing off their wealth is impoverishing many for years to come.
The average annual income for an afghani is $540.  Even the poor are expected
to defend their honour by financing a wedding with hundreds of guests, even if it is in their home.  This prospect of debt is keeping young men from marrying until much later....waiting until their 30's to marry, after they've saved enough money
to even try.  A dowry also has to be paid to the bride's family, and that family is really the ones who dictate how elaborate things will be for the marriage to take place.  Wedding halls abound....... big glitzy, Las Vegas style palaces....at least 70 in Kabul alone.

    As our party of 3 caravans arrived, the men and women were escorted to their respective entrances.  Upon climbing at least three floors of stairs, we found ourselves in separate ballrooms, divided by a portable wall. One band played on the men's side for both to enjoy.....a flute-like instrument, drum, and others. The festivities had begun around 6 o'clock, but we arrived around 7:30, so the band and dancing were in full-swing.  We also timed it right as the groom was on the women's side, sitting in the 'thrones' befitting them, and then posing here with the mother's.  Traditionally, the bride wears a green gown to begin the evening, one of two gowns  the groom provides her with.   She appeared later in a dazzling pink gown, when they re-entered the ballroom of women to the slow dance that is customary.  It is an evening of freedom for Afghan-Muslim women as their burkhas are shed and their veils fall, revealing beautiful dresses on shapely bodies with make-up and bling to the max!
I think we witnessed an unusual occurance at this Pashtun-Tajik wedding, in that the brothers of the groom danced with the women, not touching of course, in this circle dance.  And the flutist and drummer came in to accompany.  This is not the usual.

      We American women were seated on an outside wall, so it was very hard to see any action other than the hoards of children in our area, who seemed to want their pictures taken constantly.  I made the mistake of taking one group of girls, then a very determined girl decided to find many unphotographed friends to bring to me for their photo!  She would poke me repeatedly on the shoulder until I responded.  I quickly gave up the practice of photographing them!  And, since it is not polite, or lawful, to photograph adult women 'unveiled,' I was stymied.  A pair of sisters, 14 and 17, befriended us....cousins of Akram....and practiced their english all evening.  The older one, Lizza, did not want her picture taken, but the younger, Safed, and another sister, Mirium, posed with Faith and I.

These young boys were allowed on the women's side and were most happy to be photographed.  We found ourselves beseiged by children all evening.
The women also stared at our every move, in between watching the big screen videoing the men's hall and activities going on there!  We were seated so that we could not view the screen, and did not want to get up to look for fear of attracting too much attention.  I thought it revealing of Afghan society that the women spent the evening watching the men's activities on screen!  Is there a message there about who is important?


Meanwhile, on the men's side of the hall, Jon and company of three expats and three staff from Morning Star, were seated near the loud music and dancing cadre of men.  The bride, nor any woman appeared on their side, so they had to be content with 'men's business.'  Below is the chair dance, which began with the groom's brother being hoisted up.   The Islamic religious ceremony, called the Nikah, must have taken place at sometime, sometimes on the men's side, or in private....where the contract between families is agreed upon and the Mullah declares them joined.

Sometime around 9:30, the food began arriving at the tables.  The men had been fed first (tradition), and the bride and groom had retired to a private room to eat.  Being behind the screen area with the videographers nearby, we could see the films they were reviewing....the bride and groom were feeding each other.  Each table had platters of traditional afghan dishes.....3 kinds of rice,  dishes of beef, lamb, chicken and a fresh vegetable plate as well as eggplant.  Nan, of course, fresh fruit to end with and a pudding-type dessert flavored with rosewater , cardamom and pistachios.  Lizza acted as a hostess and spooned food onto our plates, then kept spooning foods onto our plates as we ate!   The idea is to not leave any food!  But, we needed at least one more person at our table to help us out.  One little girl ,who would never talk to us, was our only other consumer.  Too much food for 3 adults and 3 girls.  Us women pocketed our Asian pears and bananas.  I tried tucking them into my chaudor (scarf) but gave up.
Once the food was eaten, people started leaving.  We wended our way out of the hall under keen observation by all women still there, but were stopped by the groom's mother who called a son to escort us further.  It is not proper to go unattended, as a woman.  Lots to learn about weddings, but I think one is enough for me!  I was over-stimulated and over-fed afterward.  Sleep eluded me for some time.  But, I wouldn't have missed it for anything!