In Her Loss for Words

Can I share a story today? I call it a (non)fiction narrative account. You can believe it or let it be fleeting words. It is my burden to share.

It takes place in Afghanistan.

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There was grief in his voice, but deep sincerity.

"I am very sad this morning. Something very bad happened to my sister," said my driver, in his heavy accent, with his eyes coated with a layer of hazy water; maybe his tears, maybe his rage.

He had received a phone call at the break of dawn from his niece. Her mother had taken a destructive fall down the stairs after a violent encounter with her husband. She was not doing well. After receiving another phone call from his nephew who was far away in a different province, he rushed over to his sister's house.

Inside, he found her curled- broken, in all ways imaginable. Her face, covered with dark colors of heavy bruising and marks of blood that trailed down to her clothes; her body, lifeless in form with only a painful gaze showing any sign of life. There she was, in speechless fear, yet her silence cried louder than audible words.

He boiled from the inside of his stomach with hatred towards the man who had done this to his sister. As he searched every corner of the house, he could not find the person whose life he wanted to destroy with his own hands- the coward who had fled from his own doings. Even an upright man like him, in his right state of mind, would find it hard to express grace to someone who left his sister like that.

When he went back to her, he observed her bloody mouth that had swollen up in the waiting hours and her broken nose with purple bruises extending to her half-shut eyes. She did not speak up; not only from her physical pain, but her words were crushed deep into herself.

"She did nothing horrible, my sister. Her husband wanted to arrange marriage for their 18-year old daughter with their nephew. He has no education and he smoking hashes every day. My sister thinking... her daughter too young and still going to school, she deserving a better future, not with that nephew. That is all she wanted to tell her husband."

As I heard him telling me this, my heart was crushing inside of me like his sister's words. This was reality, not some article from CNN or a documentary of oppressed women in Muslim culture. She was one person, in this country, who was living this identical, unspoken life that so many other women like herself were hiding in. Some women are left with nothing, a family who departs from her in times of agony, who turn the other way to avoid acknowledging this reality; some who do not wake up in a hospital bed, surrounded with her supportive family and her loving brother. You can say her story is a fortunate case.

In his disheartened sigh, he wished his culture would respect their women- their words and their work. If only there were more people like him in this country- my thought- people who praised their wives and loved them for their worth.

Maybe it is because he finds the beauty of his wife as a reflection of Him who lives inside of her; called to love her as He loves His church.

What a blessed pair they are, in this dark world.

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This is the world where I am living in right now. It really hurts me....... so deeply to open my heart to a place where this is the norm, what is accepted. It tests my faith to seek justice for these people..

My prayer is that this girl will not grow up into
the world these women are living in today

"The Lord is King forever and ever;

the nations will perish from his land.

You hear the desire of the afflicted;

you encourage them and you listen to their cry,

defending the fatherless and the oppressed,

in order that man, who is of the earth,

may terrify no more."

                                                Psalm 10:16-18

"Barriga Llena, Corazon Contenta": What I Eat

"Barriga llena, corazon contenta." - "A full stomach, a happy heart."

That saying was taught to me by Ricardo, our gatekeeper, in Nicaragua back in 2009. It always comes to my mind when I am homesick. When I first went to Spain, I would wake up in the middle of the night so hungry... and then I would get homesick. I realized after being here, that I correlate my homesickness with my hunger & cravings. Hahaha..... sad? But tis true. While I am here, I just eat to live, not live to eat like I do back at home... where everything that sounds good is readily available, in any moment.

Here... not so much. Actually, nothing besides the good ol' vegetables + tofu that I love with my Sriracha. I drank bad bottled water 3 days ago, and have been suffering from the repercussions, as I have become best friends with my pink toilet. For the past 2 days, I have not eaten real food, minus some rice & some cereal... which of course, did not stay long inside of me. Since I cannot eat, I will just write & post some photos to help me get through this...

My breakfast every day is a bowl of milk with Cheerios 

and/or a piece of homemade biscuit with spreads.

We have naan available at every meal... Unfortunately,

I am not a big fan of carbs, so I rarely get to it.

At first, I thought I had to get a little bit of everything
to be courteous, but I actually do not eat rice/potatoes..

We even had bulgogi my first week, but I am refraining from eating
meat while I am here.. (if you saw the butcher shop, you would understand)

What I eat here most regularly..
Tofu + fresh vegetables with no dressing

Tried Afghan curry for the first time.. tasted similar except hard rice.

As you can see, my meals vary here & there but what never changes is the tofu, cucumber, tomato, bell pepper & carrot. I have those available all the time. Oh! And my bottle of Sriracha, that is now already half-eaten...! Uh oh........

Anyway, here is what I crave every day:

Self-explanatory

Sigh... these cravings will probably come & go during my stay here.... so just bear with me. I hope my stomach will be strengthened so I can try more native cuisine.... and drink their water.... without being sick in bed for days. Will you follow me there?

Pimp My Ride: Kabul Edition

Salam Aleikum! (Dari 101: Hello [literal translation: Peace on you])

This is an informational about transportation mediums in Kbl. There are about 3 cars that exist in Kbl: Toyota Corolla, Toyota Land Cruiser & Toyota 4Runner, in all models & years that have been available in the past 3 decades. Literally, as you are on the road (with no existing lanes), you will see some formation of these cars in any combination or multiples, going in any direction the driver pleases.

There are about 4 different types/models of Toyota Corollas in this photo.

Secondly, there are brightly painted buses, old school motorcycles & vintage bikes that all look like they were born in the 60s, which they probably were...

Manually done paint jobs, quite impressive.

You also see many construction vehicles & vans with Korean on it.

Question: Why is there a Korean in EVERY part of the world?

Answer: Business or Missions

Women in burqa getting a ride in the fast lane. Dope.

Kinda like riding a magic carpet

You always see little kids getting a ride from a brother or father.

Anyway, last week, Glenn & I went to get our foreigner's registration completed with one of the staff guys, Haroon. On our way back, Haroon wanted to get our side view mirror replaced.. well, not replaced, but we needed one. It was missing for some apparent reason that I would rather not know. Our windshield was majorly cracked as well, for probably the same unknown reason. Haroon took us to the part of town that has all the mechanics, auto parts, body shop dealios and we got to walk around for a bit while our car was getting fixed.

Definitely a safety hazard

Firework art on windshield, another safety hazard

Our car, 4Runner, getting pimped up

Toyota Land Cruiser, probably flown over from an American dumpster

West Coast Customs alumni, perhaps.

That is very ensuring..

Ta-da! All fixed within the hour.

It really is interesting to observe all these aspects of such a city that you only hear about from the news. Beyond what you see/hear via reports, there is an existing place with people who live normal lives doing things that are just as ordinary as what you do back "home", wherever that may be. It has been an mind-opening experience so far. 

We can all use a little open-mindedness.

Modern Day's Stone Age Bath

I will be doing a series of posts on my every day activities.

First off, I live in a house with running water and electricity. So for those of you who always ask me if I am going to be living in the dark with pails of water, that is false. Kabul is very much modernized in technological ways, yet the streets remind me of some decades ago in the middle of Korea or something.

I live on the 2nd floor of my house in a small corner bedroom that I have made quaint and as home-y as possible in the past week. My house is also the office/headquarters so during the day, there are many people in & out, using the other half of the area for work.

I will post photos of my living quarters in a future post. For now, I want to share to you the most important room in the house besides my bedroom- the bathroom. The water is very weak and has barely any pressure so to make my shower, time/water-efficient, I run hot water into buckets... it takes about 20 minutes for me to fill up 3 buckets and then another 20 minutes to get my ish done.

My bathroom basket 

The long process of water storage

(Note: I manage to squeeze into the tub along with them. Quite crowded.)

Our precious, precious water heater

My pink everything toilet to everything bathroom
(If you know me, pink is my least favorite color.)

Our washer & non-functional dryer, also sharing space in bathroom

There you go; a glimpse into my daily trips to my bathroom. Next entry, I will post photos from my trip to the mechanic body shop. :) 

Khodahafez..! (Dari 101: Good bye)

How to: Eat a Mango, Afghan-style

I came just a week after mango season had started in Afg. If I remember anything from my last trip to this country in 2007, I remembered how amazing the mangos were with the juicy fruit meat.. mmmmm sweeter than the ones I eat in the States.

After every lunch & dinner, we eat a mango, and will be doing so for the next couple months until cantaloupe season starts. I have zero complaints because I love fruits, especially mangos. Yumz.

Here is a tutorial on how to eat one, if you ever are in Afg and want to look like a native:

This what a mango looks like in Afg, usually imported from Pakistan. 

You cut a circumference around the center.
(Notice the spillage of the mango blood, mm)

You then twist the mango and separate the two halves.
You can give one half to another friend.

You use a spoon to scrape out all the mango meat, cleeean.

I like sharing, usually. But it was too good.......

Interesting, right? Sometimes, the natives just massage the mango for a long period of time, poke a hole & drink the mango like a juice. I must try that in the next couple months...

Stefghanistan: And so it begins...

Here I am, in Kbl, sitting in my little room that I spent all last night moving into.
When I first came inside, there was only a sheetless mattress on a frame, but throughout the day, the NEI Afghan staff guys brought in a closet, a desk & a vanity set. I have to say, this is more than what I had at my own house back in LC... so guess who came up in Afg? Yes, me. Thank you very much. Tashakur. (Dari vocab 101: thank you)

After what seemed like a million hours of traveling from LAX to Dubai to Kbl.... I spent my first full day in Afg yesterday and my thoughts ran from a gamut of, "This is pretty cool" to "One year, eh? Easy peasy........." to "omg, am I really in AFG right now!?!? WTH"... It is hard to say how I really feel still. Perhaps I need to give myself a few days to adjust my mental/physical/emotional/spiritual state, all in all.. so please refrain from asking, "How is it?? What is it like?? How do you feel???" Because honestly, my answers will not be very true-to-tell.

One thing I can say is that, in the midst of my 24+ hours of traveling, God was so sparingly gracious with the whole process. With my sister, who barely made it to LAX before my gate boarding time closed (heart attack moment!), I managed fine, even in my tears, onto my 16 hour flight on Emirates Airline, which was one of the best experiences I had on any flight. I felt like I was in comatose for the majority of the plane ride, somehow forcing down some Ginger Ale (my fave airplane drink) and grilled okra to sustain my self, with No Strings Attached and Life As We Know It playing on repeat so that I could catch a scene or two every waking moment. Once I got to Dubai, my bags came out extra quick, found the Holiday Inn shuttle extra quick, got to my hotel extra quick... and spent the entire day, just laying in bed and restoring myself from the entirety of this new journey (?).

The next morning, I got schooled by the Holiday Inn taxi guy, who was so friendly and inviting... but only he then charged me 45 AED for my ride from the hotel to Terminal 2. I asked how much that was in USD and he replied, "Ehhh around $20". I gave him $21 for the entertaining & informational carride, only to realize when I was paying for my 45 AED meal at the airport, that it converted to only 12 USD. Fuuuudge. He was so cool about jacking my money. Oh wells, I did not let it phaze me. I forgot all about it when the TV started playing K-pop music videos. I sat down and the channel said, "Korean stars? Don't we all love them...?" For the 30 minutes I was seated, the VJs introduced everything from Big Bang to 2ne1 to CNBlue and other Korean groups I never heard of. How funny is that? In Dubai, of all places. lol, even that I believe that it was MEANT for me. Thanks, G.

G-Dragon with eyeliner never looked better

Anyway, back to how God was so loving to this on-route lost child to Afg... my luggage exceeded the weight limit by 7 kg, but there was a huge party of Arab men in the next booth who were trying to take 4 huge boxes of goods to Kbl by buying extra seats on the airplane... I think they made my situation look more trivial. So then he upgraded my seat to First Class as well. Doooope. I was the only female in the 12 seats of first class and felt a bit intimidated. But all the men were friendly and helped me put my luggage in the overhead compartment.

First Class on Ariana is like a Southwest seat

Lastly, I got to Kbl and the airport was IN-SANE. It was definitely way more developed from how I remembered it to be 4 years ago. But the number of people bustling around was immeasurable! I was overwhelmed, but luckily my luggage came out extra quick (again!) and a friendly Afg men tried to help me find one of the guys going around in the cart, who waited around to gather people's luggage, hoping to make an extra buck. I managed to carry my 2 check-in baggage, which weighed 100 pounds together, my carry-on duffle, which weighed another 20 pounds, and my Northface backpack ALL together, out to the security check point. I srsly have so much man-strength. It scares me.

Here I am, again.

I came out of the airport 2 hours after my estimated arrival time and started freaking out because the airport had developed so much that I could not recognize anything. I was not sure where to go and/or where Glenn & Mr/Mrs Pae would be waiting for me. A cart man helped me with my luggage in the final long walk to the entrance, where I saw a million faces peering over to see who was coming out. As soon as I walked out, I noticed Glenn, in his black Ray Ban-ish glasses scarfed mouth. Hallelujahhhhhhh!

Everything went smoothly, even in the midst of the craziness of all the traveling. I am sure it was His angels guiding every situation as all your prayers were with me. Seriously. It could have turned out quite disastrous, but I cannot say anything was sub-par from my given circumstances.

That is it for now. Not sure if anyone would be interested in my travel stories.... I promise the content will get more entertaining & Kbul-esque. For now, please keep me in your prayers; that I would come to terms with my next year here and find joy in all of this. It seems hard to imagine myself falling in love with my circumstance (being completely honest), but I remain open-hearted & open-minded to what is in store here in Kbul.

Tashakur for now.