Day 373: A little extra never hurt anyone

It's a few days past the year mark and life goes on -- if you can call it that here. As I look back over my stay I realize I've experienced an even mix of frustration and satisfaction -- though the latter rarely came from major advances on the part of my Afghan national army counterparts.

Those I've mentored have made progress, no doubt, though much slower than I would have assumed prior to touching down here in May '08. I learned to seek refuge in minor miracles: being more proactive with international media, ensuring local messages were part of the "tour," and focus moved toward the average soldier a bit. 

But as the west has figured out, these successes are a tad bit more difficult to come by than fighting the Taliban.  

It's the year 1388 by Afghanistan's lunar calendar -- some would say the entire country still lives in the 14th Century. Yet, the coalition pushes ahead, striving to implement 21st Century military norms. In essence, trying to bring a horse and carriage up to '09 Corvette specs.

I leave on Monday, but rest assured, this mission will continue well into the next decade if democracy is to be successful here.  In my opinion, both Afghanistan and Pakistan play a crucial role in the war on terror.

I would love to return to a secure Afghanistan and enjoy the culture. But only time will tell if that's an option.

Day 288: Itchy trigger fingers

SFC Ralph Parsons quizzes an Afghan National Army soldier during tactics training on responding to an ambush. Parsons is with the Kabul Military Training Center's Mentor Group. (Photo by G. A. Volb)

Itchy trigger fingers not allowed:

Alamo mentor stresses the basics with ANA soldiers

By G. A. Volb

KMTC Public Affairs

CAMP ALAMO, Afghanistan – “Kilke-ta-Az-masha Durku,” the 45-year-old Sergeant First Class from Lawton, Okla., told Afghan National Army soldiers on Kabul Military Training Center’s tactics range.

The words he spoke, in Dari, reminded the young Afghan troops to keep their fingers off the trigger when not needed. It was the type of exchange that had onlookers wondering if the seasoned noncommissioned officer was fluent in the language.

“Actually, that’s all I know,” said Army SFC Ralph Parsons, with a slight grin on a cold, wet day atop the rolling hills of KMTC’s ranges.

Parsons, a mentor with the Basic Warrior Training branch here, focuses on the ANA’s command staff instructor section, evaluating training, and helping them develop new tactics and techniques for instruction.

“The typical ANA soldier wants to learn,” he said. “I think they want to be challenged and want to belong to an organized group with a unified effort.”

On this day, there were about 600 soldiers from a training Kandak practicing their reaction tactics to an “ambush.”

“ANA soldiers excel at anything they can actually physically practice,” he emphasized. “They do extremely well at hands-on practicum -- like assembling and disassembling weapons, first aid and such.”

He said the biggest challenge is the obvious language barrier and having to use interpreters for everything. There’s also a certain level of trust that has to be developed between the soldiers and mentors.

“They know that with each new mentor comes change, and they expect that,” he said. “But sometimes they’re not sure who the expert is or who’s ideas and suggestions they should accept – yours or the previous mentor’s.”

Such things are important since the training methods push a lot of information at the soldiers in a small amount of time.

“When I conduct a check on their progress, sometimes they get eight out of 10 questions correct, and sometimes just one or two,” he said. “So those are the types of issues my team is trying to identify. They grasp the overall concept of the instruction, but not the details as to why something is.”

In the mud and rain on the tactics range, the training scenario tested their ability to discovering an enemy lying in wait and reacting to an ambush. “The concepts of laying down a base of fire, assaulting and flanking through the ambush site are also taught,” said Parsons. “To help them survive they must work together in fire teams, to communicate, put down a large base of fire and immediately react to contact, to assault through the objectives, and to be aggressive.”

The ANA, if nothing else, is aggressive according to those closest to the training. Parsons attributed that to their belief that one day they see Afghanistan being the country their grandparents told them about, a free and prosperous nation. Many too said the Taliban had terrorized their villages and families and that they are here for revenge. But first things first – and that’s the training.

This six-week course is broken into three major categories: First aid, tactics, and basic rifle marksmanship with AK-47s, plus Soviet weapons familiarization.

“These privates come from all over Afghanistan – all provinces and villages – but here at KMTC they are unified for the first time as one Kandak (battalion) and one Tolli (company). It’s my hope that, following the course, they realize they have the ability to learn a wide variety of tasks that it takes to be a soldier and a warrior. That they’ll continue to build on what they’ve learned here at their corps.”

Day 183: Can you hear me now?

I’ve been in Kabul for just shy of seven months now and the routine, while still routine, has begun to nip at my nerves a bit.

Let me explain: First, the early morning bathroom trips to facilities about 50 feet away which, during the summer months served as a nice escape from my quarters, is now into a 40-degree chill – right around the corner snow will make it even more “fun.” As the Afghan National Army major I mentor told me; “It’ll get much colder here,” and he used his hand to show how much snow is possible – extending his hand from the ground, stopping just under his knee caps.

Secondly, each time I “phone a friend” I’m faced with the typical three or four tries – network failures, lost signals etc. – before a successful call. Once a cute cultural disadvantage, “Can you hear me now?” really has taken on a life of its own here. Members of the team can be seen moving in crisscrossing patterns around the camp, with each step hoping to bring a better signal. “Go outside the gate,” one tells me. “No, behind the piss shack,” another yells.

I describe my living quarters as something comparable to those serving a year’s sentence at a minimum security prison – though prisoners have access to indoor plumbing.

My “living area” is 7x9 feet worth of Little America – slightly smaller than I had given it credit for initially. On occasion the cramped quarters has me, first, banging my head against the underside of my bunk bed; then backing up into my wall locker and spinning around just in time to smack my toes on the ladder that takes me to my bed. Again, initially quite comical, but now tend to piss me off a bit.

After multiple such instances, it's become aggravating – though I find myself laughing about it all in a twisted sort of way. And I continue to tell myself it could worse … and it surely could be, as our young troops across Afghanistan are living in much more austere environments, dodging bullets.

At work flecks of yellow dust float down from the ceiling whenever someone on the second floor moves; I presume it's paint as it settles on my keyboard, computer, chair and hair. At the base of the walls little yellow "ant hills" grow in size as the weeks pass. I sometimes wonder whether the Russians or Taliban noticed such things when they occupied my chair. 

Every night I call my lady friend back home, and I repeat the process in the morning. It's just to say "Hi." But she too notices the difference in my demeanor on occasion. I'm an easy going "Guy" but with each passing day, I look for a new hobby or vehicle to expend some energy. It has become such that I look forward to laundry day.

Anyone need some laundry done? Can you hear me now??

Day 122: Exotic Istanbul

First, for those who were thinking about Istanbul for great prices on jewelry, leather and gold ... well, not so much. Since turning to the Euro, and probably well before that even, the prices here are much more in line with that of any big city USA or Europe. Dinner for two averages $55, adult beverages $3-$5 and leather, gold and any other previously good bargain is now at big city prices.

It is, however, still very much exotic -- with the daily prayers and mix of old Asia with modern day Europe.

If you like Mediterranean food, you'll love Turkish cuisine. If you love exploring ancient cultures, you'll love Turkish sightseeing.

If you're looking for bargain shopping, you may want to look into Korea, Philippines, China or other Middle East locations.

For me, however, it was about getting away for a bit of R&R. And all I needed for that to be successful is a nice hotel, good food and some sights. All of which Turkey has.

It's day 122 as far as Kabul is concerned, and this much needed break from the realities of war there has been good to me. I've enjoyed living again -- waking when I want to, exploring where I want to, just feeling free to come and go as I please. To use a knife and fork. To use a bathroom located in my own room. To walk the streets without fear of who was watching.

I may take another three or four days in Dubai at the end of this. But for now, I'm feeling pretty good about the vacation.

Day 20: Laundry day

Like I said before, it's the simple things that will get you through living and working in Afghanistan. Fridays are for laundry, which takes up a good portion of the afternoon. And as long as time is slipping by smoothly, life isn't bad here.

I also took the time to help three others build bunk beds for their small piece of paradise. Anything to create the appearance of more room in their -- room.

It's twisted, but I kind of like being able to stand in the center of my "estate" and turn on the lights, computer, poor green tea or shave without ever moving. If I could high jump five feet, I'd also be able to launch myself into bed without moving.

It's another hot one, I'm thinking three digit range again. Nearly bought a watch that provides the temperature too, but after misreading the price tag (I thought it said $275), I decided against the purchase. The 275 I saw was actually in Euros, so the price was closer to $400.

We're not allowed to drink here (among other things), which doesn't bother me even a little. But watching our French counterparts partake in an adult beverage or two kind of had me wondering what a nice cold Corona would taste like in 110 degree heat.

Day 18-19: Playing catch up

When you take time out of the week to visit operations outside "home base," it tends to put you behind the power curve so to speak. Day 18-19 for me were days I used to play catch up -- which I did nicely.

As there's only a limited number of choices to entertain yourself here, you find work a viable option to do just that. In the end, it doesn't seem much like work anymore but a more of a way of life here, of focusing on something other than being away from home, family and friends. For me, it's not having options to attend professional sports events, see a movie in town or travel openly.

It's living in such situations that you realize just how well you have it back home. Things you thought important really aren't here.

Day 17: Driving course

Training the ANA isn't about control, it's about ensuring they have the ability to train themselves. In the end, the program hopes to develop a self-sufficient, professional army. (Photo by G. A. Volb)

The training is difficult as drivers are taken over the course, dry and rocky terrain of Afghanistan. (Photo by G. A. Volb)

It was an exhausting day, but not due to any one reason. It was more the combination of three-digit heat, being on the move over rough country all day and trying to adapt to the 6,000-foot altitude in which we operate.

Much of the morning was taken up by visiting the driving course for ANA regulars. The ride there comes with the gratuitous bumps and ruts in the road, large rocks and clouds of dirt from vehicles in front of you. Should "dirt" replace oil as the global fuel that runs nations, the quality of life here would sore overnight.

There's thousands of acres of dirt and rock used by the ANA for training out here -- you can literally see for miles (through the dirty haze in some cases). It is, I think, a perfect place to teach the ANA who are quite comfortable among the rocks and dirt of the landscape. Here they learn to drive armored vehicles which, in the wrong hands, can be quite dangerous on poor terrain.

The ANA seems eager enough to learn and advisers/mentors have assured me they're improving. It'll just take time which, out here looking over the vast emptiness, seems to be all we have.

In the afternoon we made a trip to the "mother camp" in Kabul proper. The ride always reminds me of driving in S. Korea, Turkey or Honduras -- there seems to be no traffic rules and the biggest car or truck typically gets its way. The number of fatalities on the roads here must be high, though that's just an educated guess.

It's nice to see the children walking home from school and small businesses open. There's a relatively "normal" economy taking shape here, but much more needs to be done to ensure stability so that their economy can flourish. If the coalition has the strength of will, Afghanistan can and will succeed as a democracy.

Day 16: Mondays are painful

Mondays in Afghanistan, so it seems, are as boring as those in states. This, even though my Mondays are really Tuesday by my work week since I have off half a day Thursday and all day Friday (the Muslim work week so I'm told).

In any case, there was little going on in my world this Monday. And when that's the case, eating and working out take on a new level of importance. In fact, I'm due to head to the gym in 15 minutes.

It is important to note, at least for me, that I now sleep through the night and wake refreshed. I find it odd how fabulous the weather is knowing the serious nature of the business here.

Day 15: Sheenza Wer

Abdullah Rauf, at left, requests help for his ailing eyes. Our "terp" suggests he gets glasses. Select this photo and check out the troops in the background providing security. (Photo by G. A. Volb)

The young girl, at left, takes care of her younger brother and then asks me for a cigarette. (Photo by G. A. Volb)

Afghanistan is full of irony; here an elderly gentleman sits outside a mud home with a new motorcycle parked nearby. Select this photo and check out the licence plate on the bike ... some things never change. (Photo by G. A. Volb)

It was a 40-minute or so trip east of "home base" toward Jalalabad. The village, Sheenza Wer, is home to some 400 folks. It's a newly built village the residents of which are in need of the customary medical care, wells and clothing among other things. My understanding is they were mostly Pakistani and moved into the area some two or three years ago.

It sits in a valley surrounded by small mountains and rolling hills; had it included some trees and/or snow, one could argue it looked a lot like Utah. But it didn't, and the rock and dirt and mud homes ensured everyone making the trip didn't confuse it for a resort stateside.

Afghanistan is full of irony: a mud home with a motorcycle propped up next to it; an outdoor kiln with a brand new Toyota pickup truck being loaded with bricks; dark, deep creviced faces under Arizona Diamondback baseball caps, and a donkey replacing a four-wheeler at the local store.

A four-year old asked me for a cigarette -- though probably not to smoke herself, but to sell. At least I'm hoping that was the case.

The mud homes are built within high walls of, yes, more mud. They're smooth walls and quite sturdy as the winters are harsh here. I'm impressed by what Afghans can do with mud. Each wall sits next to a large hole in the ground that was dug up to make the walls.

An old gentlemen stopped by to talk with our medic; our "terp," short for interpreter, said the old man complained he had a hard time seeing. When asked how old he was, the gentleman replied, "Ninety-five."

At which time our "terp" said, "You are very old, that's why you can't see as well as before. You should use glasses."

Which the old man responded with, "I'm not old enough for glasses."

There were a lot of back aches --- from lugging around rock and dirt; sore or broken ribs, headaches, sleep deprivation etc. They all seemed in relatively good spirits though, especially the children who, like anywhere in the world, were busy running around seeing what trouble they could get themselves into.

Looking out over the valley there was a healthy mix of U.S., British and Afghan troops securing the area. The big event for the day -- humanitarian "give-aways" including sandles, jeans, shirts, blankets and asorted other clothing. It was a good day.

Day 13: A quiet Friday

Temperatures reached 100 degrees here; it was a dry heat though, so it wasn't too bad.

There were no events to speak of from insurgents. And yesterday's gate explosion was, in fact, a self detonation by security troops who discovered a car parked in the wrong area for too long. You can never be too careful.

I see that the Lakers are headed back to the finals ... being from the East Coast, I'll have to pull for the Celtics. I'd like to see KG win a ring, he's been a class act his entire career and deserves it.

Laundry in this heat isn't fun, but it does tend to get dry quick. I did the entire set in an hour.

In the distance I could finally hear prayers over the loud speakers. I'm used to that having spent two years in Turkey. At the time, my dog would sit and stare off into the distance towards the mineretts and howl ... as if he were praying along.

My diet is a challenge as I'm taking in what I would consider "junk" food -- there's no salmon, brown rice, wheat pastas etc. So I make due with what's left and try to watch the calories.

Tonight I'm working my abs at the gym. I can feel they need work.

And I'm back on my green tea and protein shake ritual; and it would be great if I could ad some red fruits to the mix. That will have to wait though and I gry to get a little more settled here.

I find myself wiping dirt from my face quite often as it tends to swirl about here. I even bought seven or eight scarvs from vendors. That way I can wrap them around my head like locals to keep such mess out of my eyes and mouth. Or at least try.

Day 10-12: Coordinated attack day (Day 12)

Hey, the Internet here was down for a couple of days so I'll catch up quick. Tuesday and Wednesday (days 10 and 11) were uneventful.

Thursday (day 12) was the day one Army sergeant warned me about: "Coordinated attack day."

We had three IEDs/suicide attacks all within a short driving distance of our compound ... and at least two of the areas I've visited several times over the last 12 days.

There's a saying that goes around here: "When it's your time, it's your time." So the idea is not to think about the danger much and go on about life, while keeping both eyes and ears open. In this particular case or cases, the bombers managed to kill or wound many God fearing Afghans --- and little else. They seem bent on indiscriminate killing of men, women and children. Their means are to what ends I don't know. I'm quite certain that as a typical man, I wouldn't be swayed to their side of the fence via similar tactics. Maybe scared into keeping quiet and low key, but never really on their side.

And it's a proven fact that you'll never, ever succeed in assimilating a culture or at least enjoying them as an ally unless you earn their trust and hearts. And that, my friends, isn't easy. But we have to stay focused. This isn't a sprint to the finish, it's a marathon. I hope the coalition has the strength of will to see it through.

Update: A fourth explosion took place following the initial posting; I have yet to receive any further information, but the location was the entrance to "Paradise East." My affectionate name for home base.

Day 9: It's the little things

It's the little things that make an austere environment habitable. For me, that's waking up to four or five freshly brewed cups of Japanese green tea (not the tea bag version mind you).

It's the protein shake I chug down before breakfast, specific type of body cream I use and the ability to check on scores of the Philly sports teams.

The mornings are cold, cold enough that your breath emits that foggy exhale. The days are a sneaky hot. You don't realize it most times, but there you are, sweating -- the middle of your t-shirt or back of it outlined in a salty excretion. It's a dry heat though, so I find it quite nice.

The sun rises well before I do, and I get up between 4:30-5 p.m. It's bright, the birds who make their little homes above my little home chirp throughout the day. The night comes just as quickly, darkness settles over the area by 7 p.m.

I live in what they call "Lego Land," a sarcastic description of the previously mentioned 9x10 crates many of us call home. Again, they're made out of old shipping containers -- even the Afghans have found such containers useful to house businesses on the side of the roadways or as family "homes."

For us, there's little privacy as the genius of using shipping containers doesn't provide for sound proofing, so it's like living in a Japanese home with the thin walls.

This weekend we plan to embark on a humanitarian mission, visiting a local school to deliver supplies and clothing. It's those little things that make it worth while.

Day 8: Memorial Day

Memorial Day means a tad bit more when you're serving overseas, especially in a danger zone. There's a kinship with those you're honoring. And there's a special type of camaraderie that develops between those in such a situation.

There's little in the way of daily entertainment; you can't travel and enjoy the local sights, clubs, cultural centers or sports events. Instead, you bide your time working, sleeping, eating and repeating the process daily.

The day or so that you have off lets you pause for just enough time to realize you "might as well be working."

My situation isn't as bad as many, as I have a gym to occupy some time. And I find myself eating more than I would back home ... because it's one of the amenities offered here.

While my diet has made a 180, I'm doing my best to ensure those extra calories end up in the right places. We'll see how that works out, but I'm guessing I'll be adding an extra 10-15 pounds.

Day 7: The Mud

I don't think I'll ever look at a mound of dirt quite the same again since our trek to the village of Khowjagher about eight miles northeast of "home base." Prior to the mission, the planner briefed us of intelligence reports that a VBED (vehicle born explosive devise) was used along a main roadway we use quite often earlier that morning.

He said we should be watchful of roadside IEDs too. Though I'm not quite sure what that entails given the nature of the rubble strewn throughout the country.

In any case, we weren't going to take that road this particular morning he said, then adding calmly, "But you never know when it's coordinated attack day."

The trip to Khowjagher took us over potted, deep rutted roads -- and at one time through a mud village with high reaching walls and narrow allies that would have been perfect for an Indiana Jones movie set. Like an opening segment to a Tarantino special, our Afghan driver popped in his personal cassette and 2Live Crew erupted from the speakers of the vehicle as we bounced along the road.

Even so, I couldn't help but focus in on every mound of dirt, every mud structure that seemed out of place ... I watched the body language of everyone we passed. Some waved, some just stared. Everything, to me, seemed out of place -- especially me.

Once at the village we quickly met with the Malik or elder statesman, Khan Mohamed; he said they were in dire need of a school house, a well and a medical clinic. Dozens of children ran around acting like children do, they grabbed at my pens and tried to talk me out of my camera set in broken English.

After determining the makeup of the village (some 700 plus children and 200 families), our contingent determined it would be appropriate to try funding both the school and new well.

The Malik seemed happy, as were the rest who looked on, but showed some reservations as -- like we Americans -- he'll believe it when he sees it.

The proposal, if approved, should ensure he'll "see it" this October or November at the latest. At which time we will have made another believer, but until then any promises will be met with a healthy dose of skepticism.

Day six

It's actually day five and half, having arrived late on day one. In any case, the heat has been noticeably hotter the last couple of days. I can tell summer in Afghanistan will be quite searing. I'm also told winter is just as harsh.

I'm trying to fall into a routine of sorts, trying to sleep all night through instead of waking up at 2 a.m., I've cut off the intake of fluids at 7 p.m. I also brought a little of home here to make the transition easier -- I brew up my beloved green tea every morning. I hit the gym three or four times a week, though at night instead of mid afternoon as was customary.

My MP3 player made the trip with me and I rely on email to keep in touch with anyone and everyone. This blog serves as a normalizer of sorts.

I hope to get some visuals this weekend for the blog ... a picture being worth 1,000 words and such.

Nothing scarier than a zealot

“Guy,” my boss told me as we watched the World Trade Center Towers implode on 9/11, “there’s nothing scarier then a zealot.”

A zealot, in simple terms, is an excessively zealous person, a fanatic.

Today, it’s probably more common to think of a zealot as someone willing to die for a cause – someone who straps explosives to his torso, walks into a restaurant and then, following a quick prayer, takes out 20 to 30 non sectarians.

Many years on since 9/11, most people commonly refer to them as “extremists,” someone who isn’t concerned with the needs or viewpoint of others; someone that believes in their own cultural or sub-cultural supremacy or religion to a point that it makes compromise impossible. Yet, regardless of the descriptor it seems to me there is more political uncertainty and challenges to societal norms today than ever before.

It’s ironic that, since the end of the Cold War, radicals no longer have polarizing superpowers to align themselves with, which provided some measure of oversight. Instead, we have many smaller autonomous splinter groups with independent views on a Utopian society -- each carrying religion and cultural zeal to extreme. This, of course, is counter to what we as Americans believe in and fight for.

As Americans we strive for “Cultural Acceptance.” We're a melting pot of religions, languages, talents and, yes, flaws -- we see it only fitting to welcome each as an important member of the American dream, diversity a strength rather than a weakness.

In our “world” people of various religions, races, and socioeconomic status live, work and play together as equals. While we may not see eye-to-eye on everything, we respect the opinion of others and tend to engage in, at times, heated social discourse to affect reform; this, rather than violent exchange.

This is not to say our society is perfect, not by any stretch of the imagination, but our hearts are in the right place. It’s also why, while much of the international community may criticize our efforts in the press, behind the scenes they continue to look towards us for economic and social guidance. It's also why we've taken such ideals to Afghanistan, hoping a little of the diversity rubs off on their fledgling democracy.

So as our young men and women continue to make the sacrifices they do around the globe, keep in mind they’re doing so as ambassadors spreading cultural acceptance, religious freedom and equality. Sometimes this gets lost in the worldwide media frenzy all too eager to highlight our imperfections.

Bring the heat

Today, day four in country, brought a nice taste of the summer months to come. It must have nipped at the 90 degree mark; the morning welcomed me with a nice dust storm off in the distance making it hard to discern the mountains normally so easily viewed.

The bits of dirt stuck to my face, my eyes got crusty and irritated. It didn't stop me from taking my first trip to check out some local merchants selling rugs, knock off watches, local crafts, custom made suits etc. I've been on such trips before, and in many different countries. What I've noticed is that these are a creative people -- they'll make money the old fashioned way. And if commerce takes hold and is provided the political stability to thrive, so will they.

The country, like Dubai, is under construction. Here, however, it centers around military infrastructure -- at least in the beginning. The coalition is training up the future of Afghanistan's military and national police to ensure the stability needed to turn the corner is achieved from an economical and social perspective. Police enjoy a major show of force on the roads in Kabul and the new national police are professionals worthy of respect by the citizens they protect.

I have no doubt that, given the opportunity, they (Afghans) will succeed -- they've been through worse over the years.

A trip to the box: Rectifying a wrong

The box refers to the sandbox, or any number of countries we're now deeply entrenched in throughout the Middle East. My sandbox is Afghanistan for the time being, the trip here was largely an excruciatingly painful stay aboard various aircraft, in terminals and in hotels.

Total time was somewhere in the neighborhood of two days -- including three nights in two separate hotels, 20 hours in the air, and 10 hours loitering in terminals while awaiting another flight. Seven of those hours were spent in Amsterdam alone, staring at two or three dozen others in the same predicament -- waiting on a trip to Dubai.

On the positive side, I caught up on all the movies that have come out recently: "No country for old men," "I am Legend," "American Gangster," "Meet the Spartans," and "Charlie Wilson's War." The latter an appropriate watch given where I was headed.

One could actually argue it foreshadowed American presence in Afghanistan now, and its efforts not to leave our allies "hanging," like we did following the defeat of the Soviets there nearly two decades ago.

“Those things happened. They were glorious, and they changed the world. And then we fucked up the endgame."

-- Charlie Wilson's War

We (the U.S.) have the reputation overseas of pulling out of difficult situations with unfinished business left behind. It's the equivalent of tossing a mongoose into a snake pit and then leaving as the carnage begins.

Our presence in Iraq and Afghanistan is, in large part, an effort to rectify such perception. The question is whether we (those who make up the coalition effort) have the political foresight and strength of character to stay the course until stability is restored.

It's a tall order given our nation's zest for quick fixes -- instant gratification on a global scale. That's a story for later though -- back to the trip.

I arrived in Dubai at midnight of the 16th. It was still in the low 80s. People say that some 150 ethnic peoples live and work in Dubai, and judging by the throngs of ex pats gathered at the terminal, it may very well be spot on.

It was hot as hell there.Your eyes burn from the sun glare off the sand ... my dress shoes -- once a sparkling brown -- were quickly covered in white powder.The local culture is an eclectic mix of Middle Eastern, Asian and European ex-pats. The whole country, from my vantage point, was under construction. I was told by a young lady sitting next to me on the plane over that we (outsiders) can own land/property etc. in Dubai. I plan on finding out, since it would be nice to have a condo overlooking the beach here.

I spent two nights in Dubai and flew into Kabul on May 18th: it was a fabulous ride ... up 'til the time we entered the valley in which Kabul sits. The plane met with heavy winds which blew it from side to side, up and down ... violent jerks had passengers grabbing for arm rests, there was a pucker factor. At the last minute the pilot thought better of setting it down during the first go and essentially made it a "touch and go." The second time around he came in "hotter" and positioned himself a tad bit better.

Afghanistan is hot and dusty also; the people friendly enough. I'm surrounded by very nice looking mountains -- the heat a dry heat so far. My understanding is that the winters are harsh.

Afghanistan: A revolution worth saving

This time next week I'll be enjoying day two of an "all expenses paid" trip to Kabul, Afghanistan, as part of a multi-national team supporting the freely elected government through what could arguably be referred to as a political revolution.

Now, a revolution -- political, social, industrial or otherwise -- is a challenge better prepared states have difficulty pulling off without a lot of growing pains. So it's hoped this contingent of global professionals -- many if not all of whom come from democratic nations themselves -- can provide much needed expertise, a road map of sorts to help the ill prepared Afghan government avoid the many "potholes" experienced by previous nations traveling down the same path.

Surely the political reforms associated with such a drastic change in government will influence Afghan culture as well, so there's a lot more at stake than first meets the eye. It's the government's ability to provide a stable political environment, national security and economic prosperity that will determine to what extent the "revolution" succeeds and how long it takes for the average Afghan to buy into the process. Make no mistake about it, without the future support of its nation, the effort will not succeed. Any help provided by coalition advisers and troops on the ground is essential.

And Afghanistan's fledgling democracy is worth saving. A successful prosecution there can only have positive affects elsewhere in the region, leading to better security, human rights and inter-cultural exchange word wide.

This is not nation building by the western powers per se, but the effort of a fledgling democracy (Islamic Republic) to enter the 21st Century as a viable member of the global community regarding human rights, economic growth and political progress. But it'll take many baby steps to execute successfully.