In Afghanistan, Predictions Come True

Me checking on students in writing class; Kabul Education University 2011

Award ceremony Kabul Education University (me in the green chadar!); 2012

Three and a half years ago, before doing my last teacher training in Afghanistan, I wrote about my expectations in the coming years. Many of the teachers I worked with have since completed their master's degrees, the country has become more volatile, most troops have left. These predictions came true. On the other hand, I never started my doctorate, but took on other endeavors. Life goes on and takes twists and turns; it is nice to look back and see what was, and what can be.

June 24, 2012

It starts as a low drone. Echoing baritones in the distance, haunting the morning. After one mullah starts the call to prayer, all others follow. One mosque, far away begins the wave of all other mosques in town singing Allah’s name until the mosque across the street from my apartment joins into the chorus. The loud speaker faces my window; I cannot ignore the song. Though I am not Muslim, the call to prayer is in my heart. Every time I hear it, I sing along and know that at that moment, I am probably singing with thousands of others, about to get down on their knees and offer their prayers to God. Here, the holy is in the air; I breathe it in everyday and wonder what affect it has on me.

This is my third time in Kabul and I am still amazed at the place. Each day I encounter the kindest people, the friendliest and most devout hearts. Though poverty abounds, people offer anything they can to make me feel at home and comfortable. My friends are happy and my students are ever curious. At the present, life is good in the city.

But when you dig a little deeper, you can see that it will not be this way always. Most of my friends and colleagues agree that as soon as ISAF forces draw down, the country will become much more violent. Though I know that the troops will not completely withdraw, I feel worried for my friends; I feel like their future is so uncertain. I know that the U.S. has to leave some time, but I wish that stability could be created by the people and by the ANA before the US and other nations leave.

I also think that this will be my last time in Afghanistan for a while. Though I love coming back here and teaching my friends, with the addition of the MA program it seems as though I am no longer needed here. This is great for the Afghans. It means that the educational infrastructure is developing and that things are getting better. I no longer need to come back to do teacher trainings because now the faculty is being trained in a new degree program. 

I also will not come back because I think it is time for me to move along with my life. I want to stay at my home in my country and make my own life in America better. I don’t want to have to come to Afghanistan to make money, I want to make money for myself in my own country. I want to go back to school and get a doctorate. I don’t know when the best time will be, but I am sure that will be revealed. 

I am hoping that this time in Afghanistan goes well, and that the teachers are satisfied that I have dedicated a small part of my life to being here. I hope that they are appreciative of what I could offer. Though it wasn’t much, it was part of my heart, some of my skills, and a little love.

Truth's Blessing

Would I have ever found out that American spaghetti is terrible had I not taught a class full of Italian girls who made me the best spaghetti of my life? Probably not.

Truth's Blessing
In life, is knowing the terrible, dirty, truth and being sad about it, better than knowing nothing at all?

This afternoon, as I was walking out of my classroom and into the sunny Santa Barbara afternoon, a student stopped me and asked an interesting question. 

Mei Lun, a student from China, asked me, "Teacher, why is it that American education is focused on telling students what is wrong and evil about society?" 

She continued, "In China, we always learned great things about our country. We learned about our long history, our dominance, our great abilities in art and science. We learned about innovative thinkers and artists. We learned about the value of communism and hard work. We were happy at school." 

She added, "Here (in the U.S.), I am afraid for my son to go to school, because I am worried that he will only hear terrible things. He will be afraid of the world instead of excited to be in it. He will become cynical."

After Mei Lun told me her opinion, and asked me that tough question, "Why does the American education system focus on what is wrong with society?" I had to stop and think.

Here is what I said:

"I think that the American education system reflects our culture. In America, we (the people) want to know what the problem is so we can fix it. In the most perfect Democracy, the people have the power to fix their own problems, so this system is reflected in the best educational settings. In China, I think the education system also mirrors the culture. There, the government deals with the problems, the people are not entrusted with that responsibility. So, I think systematically people are told the highlights and the problems are kept secret."

Though this is a pretty simple analysis of two models of education, I think it conveys what, idealistically happens in both countries. Since I am not an expert in the Chinese system of education, I'll add to my thoughts on the American education system (the unbroken version).

First, I think that the best schools and teachers in the American education system do not focus on what is bad and wrong with society, but they focus on the truth, and what students can do to make our society better. 

In my classes, I tell students about issues that are important and eminent. I want students to know what troubles they will face, what issues are pressing, and what needs fixing in society. But I do not stop at educating students about problems. After I present these problems, I often try to go a step further and let students know what they can do to improve society. I want students to know that problems exist, and that they have the ability to create solutions and foster change.

Second, I think that in an ideal classroom/ educational setting, it is the responsibility of the educator to show students that life is not always perfect, and that they should have the skills needed to deal with a sour situation. 

The reason why social studies and humanities classes teach about terrible things is because people need to know that these things happen so that they can stop them from happening. Educating people about the ills in society makes them part of those ills, for better or worse, and they must choose to do something (or not do something) about those things. The beauty in education is knowing what is going on in the world, and choosing what you want to do about it. 

Third, I'd like to think that by educating students about abhorrent occurrences, they will prevent them from happening in the future. 

Students are entitled to know what is going wrong, and what has gone wrong before in this world so that they can learn from those things and not repeat them.

Though Mei Lun is long gone (I won't see her again until Wednesday), I want to tell her this:  

I hope that students have teachers who explain sad and difficult situations with thoughtfulness and courage. I hope that teachers do not shelter students from reality, but give them tools to deal with it, and then to make it better. I hope that students realize that truth is scary and sad, that the world is difficult, but that knowing this is true and knowing that reality is changeable, is a blessing.

A Day in the Life of an ELF

My new weights! And my less-new barbell in the background. Love them!
Teaching in the women's class.

...Not an ELF from the North Pole, an English Language Fellow in Afghanistan!

Tuesday was the kind of day that I never want to forget. I laughed, cried, was surprised, pushed out of my comfort zone, cooked, shopped, had a phone conversation in Dari, welcomed students home from their time as captives of the Taliban, talked about Martin Luther King, taught students very inappropriate slang, then listened to them use it, took a nap, had an allergic reaction to nuts, cooked again, and went to bed early . Yes, Tuesday was close to an ideal day for me; emotional, successful, challenging, relaxing...the only thing that was missing was the ocean and my friends back home!

0500
Woke up earlier than usual to finish my lesson plan for class.
I had done a lesson on Martin Luther King Junior with the women's class the day before and wanted to change some things before I did it with the men's class (this winter I am teaching an American Culture class; I have about 85 students and have split them into two sections--one male and one female--so the female students will feel more comfortable talking).

Before the first call to prayer, I had already fried an egg, eaten a cucumber, then sat down and finished planning. I practiced reading MLK's "I have a dream" speech a couple of times. If I had to read it, I wanted to do him proud.

0745
Off to school.
Morning traffic wasn't too bad, but I could see that all of the puddles were frozen into blocks of ice. Of course I wore inappropriately high heeled boots to school that morning. As soon as I got out of the car I slipped and skidded everywhere. Thanks to my coordination (yay crossfit!) I was able to make it to my office without breaking a hip.

1000
Somehow, before getting to Martin Luther King Jr., I found myself in the most uncomfortable of conversations with the "boys" (I call the men's class the "boys" even though they are 18-45 years old because their questions are so adorable and innocent).

Student: "Miss, what does chicken head mean?"
Me: (surprise immediately followed by hysterical laughter)
Me: (deep breath, more laughter)
The boys: (laughing a little at first, then uncontrollably because I couldn't stop laughing)
Me: "It means...it means...I am too embarrassed to say it!"
Boys: (laughter), "tell us PLEASE."
Me: "It means a couple of things...one, a girl with bad hair. Two, a girl (or a boy) who has a lot of boyfriends (or girlfriends)."
Boys: (More laughter followed by many absurd attempts at using the word in a sentence, which I cannot bring myself to repeat here)

On the heels of the "chicken head" discussion, I had to gather my wits and read the, "I Have a Dream" speech to the boys. Turns out they loved it and clapped when I was finished as if I had written it myself.

I told them MLK did it much better than me.

Now they are working on their own, "I Have a Dream" speeches about Afghanistan.

1145
One of my former students, who was kidnapped by the Taliban at the end of the fall semester, appeared beside me as I was walking out of class.

I almost forgot where I was (Kabul) and moved to hug him. But I didn't. I shook his hand (in the courtyard!) and stopped when I realized people were staring.

My student grinned widely and said, "Miss, I have returned from being captured!"

I swallowed my tears and told him to come to my office to chat. As I poured a bag of raisins and nuts on the table for him to snack on while we talked, I noticed how dark his skin had gotten and that he seemed a little skinnier. He quickly ate ALL of the raisins (about half a pound). My heart broke. But then it immediately sewed itself back together when he smiled so innocently and said, "It is nice to be back, I love raisins."

1225
I called my driver to ask him where he was and to change my plans. In Dari. AND he understood me!

1230
Finally, I was able to withdraw enough money from the bank to buy weight plates for my new barbell. I bought a few different sizes of plates, threw them in the back of the car and excitedly rode home while my driver bemusedly asked me what I was going to do with those weights. I tried to tell him that I was going to lift them, but I didn't know the verb "to lift" so I told him I was going "to put them in the gym and play with them." That seemed to satisfy his curiosity. I could barely wait until my workout a few hours later when I would be able to test them out...

1330
...But first I ate and took a nap. I had an ordinary lunch, chicken, veggies, and a handful of nuts. I went to sleep pretty quickly, but distinctly remember itching my face as I drifted off.

1430
Woke up an hour later with my eyes swollen shut. Did I suddenly become allergic to something?
Even though I could barely open my eyes, there was no way I was going to NOT do crossfit (with a new barbell and plates waiting, who could resist?!). I washed my face, took some Benadryl, put my glasses on, and rushed down to my gym.

The doorman was startled by the sight of my face.

He asked if I was okay. I told him I ate too many almonds. He laughed. I told him I was going to the gym now. He laughed even harder.

1800
Baked some more chicken and veggies.
Listened to Garth Brooks.
The swelling subsided and I could open my eyes again.

1900
Practiced Dari, worked on a lesson plan for the next day.

2100
Went to bed in my new leg-warmers (thanks Heather!). Snuggled up with a good book, Eat, Pray, Love, thanked God for another fun-filled and (relatively) safe day in Kabul, then fell asleep reading and itching my eyes (I know this because I woke up for school the next morning with my book under the covers and my eyes swollen again!)

Another day in the life of an ELF.

Education is Peace...and You are our Grand Teacher!

Students at my University.
School girls walking through the hill-houses in Kabul. In the distance is a large cemetery.

It was a grain of sand in a mountainous dune, a drop of water in an ocean of pleasantries. But it was more than enough to satisfy my curiosity and quell my frustration.

During my second meeting with the Chancellor of my University, after hours of small talk and a truck load of raisins, chick peas, and tongue-scorching tea, I thought we would never talk about education. My prediction was that it would probably take ten of these meetings to begin talking about the business of educating teachers; of building training programs and developing the Master's of Teaching program at the University so that future generations of teachers could have access to higher education on their own soil. Frustrated, I thought that my time here may be over before I had the confidence of the Chancellor to go ahead with my project. Regardless of my fear, I was enjoying the chit chat when, ever so suddenly, the chancellor took in a labored breath and said the following:

"Peace depends on this University. With education, there is no war. The enemy knows this; they burn schools and kill teachers to take the foundations of peace away. But here we build our future everyday. Piece by piece we are re-building our nation from the ground up. Each teacher that works here knows this; each student who passes through these doors knows this. Peace depends on this University. We welcome you and hope you also realize this."

Suddenly my concerns didn't seem so urgent.

The remainder of our conversation was one of the best I have had since arriving in Afghanistan. We talked about how important education is in nation-building, and why this Teacher's College in particular was so important in this task. We discussed how educating women was the most important piece of this puzzle, because they would raise the future leaders, scholars, and politicians. At the Teacher's College, we were in the business of turning out the people who would teach the new generation how to be good people. Although most of our talk was lofty and wishful, it seemed to me that the Chancellor's heart was in the right place and that I had his blessing to go forth and teach. I was in good company. Thank Allah.

Our meeting ended because I had to go to introduce a guest from the United States (the English Language Specialist (ELS), a visiting scholar from University of Southern California who will conduct teacher-training workshops this week) to my students.

When we arrived at my class my students were off-the-wall excited to be meeting another American. I introduced the ELS as one of my teachers (for simplicity's sake). Immediately, a boy in my class raised his hand to speak. He said, rather enthusiastically to the guest, "So you are our grand teacher!"

I love Afghanistan.