Kabul Break

Empty, snowy Kabul Education University.
Visiting Babur Gardens, Kabul, with the new ELF Amy. Bullet holes still riddle the mosque.
The view of Kabul from Babur Gardens.
My Afghan friend's daughter making "Crossfit rings" soup.
The kids and me cooking in my kitchen, Kabul.

Night has fallen and I am no longer alone. Though my apartment is still cold and empty, new friends and activities have filled my life. Five months ago, I wrote of being imprisoned in my own home. Now, I still face the same challenge of not having freedom of movement; of not being able to make my own choices about many small things that we take for granted as citizens of a free and peaceful country, but in the space between the loneliness and wanting, life has grown around me.

After returning to Kabul from my trips to India and Nepal, reality slowed down like a slug on a cold winter morning. I returned to an empty University, a freezing apartment, unforgiving snow, friends gone on vacation, and not much to do but work out. My Kabul break had begun.

Fearing that boredom, loneliness, and quite possibly insanity may set in, I took to working out twice a day, writing letters home, studying Dari, and planning my semester. Though idle hands usually would cause much mischief in my seemingly unadulterated real life, here it just makes me fantasize about taking a long walk outside.

Thankfully, crossfitting and spending time with friends has filled my break time with much-needed socializing. During my winter break, I have spent time with students, entertained the new English Language Fellows by taking them to Babur Gardens and out for dinner (I know, it is a little crazy!), gone shopping for clothes in the local mall, attended lessons at Dari school, gone to my University to do some work and toughen up in my unheated office, cooked, spent time at Camp Eggers doing crossfit, and invited my Afghan friend's family over for lunch.

Surprisingly, life has been quite pleasant during this break time. I still find myself gazing out of my window towards Television Hill, wishing that I could throw off my chadar and bound up to the summit. Five months ago those peaks seemed thousands of miles away. Now, they are closer than ever.

Recently, I was invited to go and explore those hills. Though I won't be running to the top, when the time is right, friends will accompany me to one of the highest points in Kabul where I can look down on the city from a new perspective; when I arrive on the mountain, I will say my prayer of freedom, just like I promised so long ago. Only this time, I will say it not for myself, but for this humble city of Kabul. For now I know that anything is possible.

Only five months ago I felt as though I was alone, in prison. Now, the peaks of mountains are at my fingertips. If life here can blossom into a beautiful, friend-filled existence in such a short time, maybe the same can happen for the city itself. Only time will tell.

Without Winter

Without winter

Without winter, how would we ever know that there is a summer?

Without cool, crisp, clear starry-skied nights, how would we remember that soon enough, the night will be shorter and comfortable, that there will be campfires, sand between our toes and short shorts to be worn?

If we didn't partake in hot cocoa in November, how would we realize that in a few short months we will be pounding iced chai after a strenuous beach day?

Without snow angels, traipsing through the mountains on a long snow-shoe hike with friends, skiing at Mammoth, and cuddling by the fire, would we understand that paddling, bikinis, basking in the sun, and back country hikes were just around the corner?

If never a toe was cold, never a cheek rosy, boots weren't wet, and winter was not stubborn, would we still appreciate the sand cradling our bodies while the California sun tans our faces?

Although winter is my least favorite season, I am fortunate for its existence because, without winter, I would never know how much I love summer. Enduring winter to experience the beauty of summer and to fall in love with the season anew each year makes my stomach flip. However, lately, I have had to remind myself that winter will indeed end. Recently, as winter has slowly descended on Santa Barbara, it has also wiggled its way into my personal life.

I realized winter's oppressive presence just a few days ago while sipping my warm chai latte. Not only was I freezing, but I was also overly melancholy that morning. The night previous, I nonchalantly told a friend that my life was "hard" lately. Expecting sympathy and questions of inquiry, comforting words and advice, my friend offered me a reality check. He said, simply, "How is your life hard?"

At first I was angry. How could he not understand that my life is hard right now? Was he insensitive, clueless even? But then, as I twisted that question around in my head and began to reflect on my seemingly hard life, I realized I was not giving reality due credit. So, I took a knee (metaphorically speaking) and asked myself that same question, how is your life hard right now? I promised myself I would answer clearly and honestly. This was my response.

Asking how my life has been hard really made me think about whether it is truly hard or not. The answer to that one would be a resounding no, it isn't really hard. It is not hard for many reason that I shall, from this second forward, remember each day I wake.

I am not poor.

Unlike almost half of the world I do not struggle each day to find food; I am not starving or malnourished, I have electricity and plumbing. I have a warm home and a place to sleep and think.

I am not unemployed.

In fact, I am lucky enough to have two jobs. When 12% of Americans are unemployed, I wake up each day with the awesome responsibility of teaching language to our future citizens and leaders. At one of the most beautiful city college campuses in the United States, I interact with students from all over the world, make friends, drink chai lattes, and bask in the sunshine. Hugs abound. Smiles are common. In addition to teaching, I also get to serve food at a family-owned restaurant and meet all kinds of interesting people each night. I am humbled by the mopping of floors and the cleaning of toilets; I know that hard work will make me stronger and I am fortunate that I am able to do it.

I am not sick.

I have no chronic illnesses; I haven't had a cold or the flu for as long as I can remember. I do not need any prescription drugs or painkillers. I go to the dentist and eye doctor regularly and can afford it because I am lucky enough to have good health insurance.

I have loyal and supportive friends and I am in physically awesome shape.

The community that surrounds me lifts me up when I am low; they encourage me through hard times, feed me, educate me, and reason with me.

I eat clean food and breathe clean air.

Living in California I have access to fresh produce all year. The air is sweet and unpolluted, the food tasty and local. The farmers are friendly and generous.

I can volunteer.

Although life is busy, I volunteer with three wonderful groups. I travel the world teaching non-violent conflict resolution, build community in Santa Barbara through service with like-minded women, and design teacher-training workshops for local ESL teachers.

I have a million options as far as what I can do with my life. I am free to choose, free to live, free to move.

I realize these things each day and take the following as a grain of salt…

What my life IS right now is tiring, conflicting, WIDE OPEN and sometimes lonely. In addition to the aforementioned, I am going through a divorce. Although the end of my marriage is a choice and it is what I want, it is still difficult and a bit heart wrenching to go through the process. There is no way to quantify how difficult it is; suffice to say it is difficult. Dismantling the last five years of my existence and salvaging what remains of an integral relationship that will always be a part of me, is an exploration of rock bottom.

But without hard times, how would I ever know that good times will follow?

So I take each day as it comes with the knowledge that although winter has hit hard and strong, all at once, summer will soon be here. Loneliness will fade and the hardness will soften. One day I will wake up, a new person like all of the days before, but this time, summer will have arrived.