Sarah Fane's Afghan Blog

Photo Gallery

2011-10-24T19:41:00.002Z

Khadeja (taken by Leslie)

Men in the village(taken by Leslie)

Studying outside

16th October - Ashrafia, AC resource centre and our last night in the villages

2011-10-24T18:01:00.007Z

After our visit, the teachers lead us in to an orchard where they have spread out carpets and cushions and prepared fresh tea and apples and pears form their trees.

Afghanistan is a never ending eating experience at times….and we are whisked off from here to Ashrafia Boys School….where lunch is waiting!

Ashrafia Boys School is next to Tarusht Girls School. AC is funding a Resource Centre with Science Lab, Computer suite, library and meeting hall for the two schools to share. We saw the building nearly completed. We are also funding a new girls school and refurbishment of the old girls’ classrooms at Tarusht.

The boys and teachers were ready to greet us and we shared an incredibly lively and happy lunch with about 30 male teachers. We sat on red carpets and cushions, which the boys had brought in from home, and were served plates of local delicacies…including the baby sparrows, complete with heads on, which they had hunted in giant nets up the rocky ravines that morning . So much food. Luckily enough men there to hide the fact that we didn't eat so much!

A massive character with wild eyes and a tilted turban, came to greet us. I had met him last time. He wanted us to go and ride on his Buzkashi horse with him! The Headmaster took my photos of my family and asked to keep them for his wall so he wouldn’t forget us!

On to Tarusht Girls School. We walked through a hole in the wall and into the courtyard and were swamped by hundreds of girls, singing and throwing flowers at us and giving us scarves. The choir sang, and then there were speeches and then we were completely crushed by girls crowding around our table as we were given tea. Couldn’t see beyond the hundreds of intense faces…wondered if we would actually cause a stampede.

Fabulous to see the huge new buildings going up and the new school taking shape. V exciting . As I looked over the wall, I saw the girls going home, their burkhas billowing in the evening breeze , beside the river in this beautiful corner of the world, so very far from my home.

From Tarusht, our drivers took us even further up in to the hills, on roads made of rock and dust , with steep drops in to the valleys below. We stopped right up in the heights near the Anjoman Pass and walked up on to the peaks , from where we could look out for miles beyond. It was dusk and the cool evening was drawing in and a strong bitter wind was gusting through the mountains.

We came across a shepherd’s hut and a mother with four young children-two beautiful girls with the greenest eyes and two cheeky little boys who were playing rough and tumble in the dust. The girls were shivering in the cold. We emptied out all the warm clothes we had and gave them to the family and then watched the boys putting on layer upon layer of socks and giggling in the dust.

As we left, one of the girls came up to the car and I thought she was going to ask us for something …..but she just asked us to stay the night with them and share their supper. Drove off, watching this beautiful girl standing in that bleak place. No chance of an education…her mother was married off age 10 and never went to school and the same fate probably awaits her. It is such an impossibly tough world out here.

Our last night in the villages is spent in a poor community. We are joined by the entire village- everyone has come to pay their respects and we feel so sorry for the family, who end up feeding more than 70 people. 2 goats(whose heads lie on the ground and make us feel deep guilt!) and several guinea fowl are slaughtered .We make sure we leave a present to help.

We are so tired and the evening goes on for hours as the women are in no hurry to leave us. It is hilarious as we discuss their lives and loves and a widow tells us of all the young men she lusts after and all the old men she doesn’t want .! Nothing held back here and we hear all the village gossip.

As we all sit there , one of the girls suddenly throws herself to the floor and has an epileptic fit. It is a reminder of how tough the lives are here. I am sure she doesn’t receive the correct treatment and isn’t monitored as she would be here.

Finally we are left alone and have a hilarious time clambering over walls in the moonlight looking for a non existent latrine ! Not much sleep.

16th October - Visiting Community Based School, Ashrafia Boys School and Tarusht School

2011-10-24T13:26:00.006Z

Bad night. Had a crying baby in the room and all sorts of people coming in and out throughout the night. Love the mornings in these places. The moon still up over the mountains. Mother carrying huge piles of sticks and casting them into a hole in the ground where she is making her morning fire to heat the water. The father is letting the cows out , the daughters help with the breakfast and the sons fetch the water. Then the mother asks me to take a photograph of her with her husband. This simple act of affection is a first for me to see in Afghanistan. The two of them stand side by side, smiling and laughing and the light catches their faces. I have the most beautiful photographs of them. I shall keep them and not show them to anyone but them, but they will always be a moment of hope and happiness in a place where in the last 27 years of travelling, I have not one photograph of a man and woman like this. I almost envy them this happiness.

Daughter and her father below

Breakfast was a feast and it made me laugh when the mother told me that she gets her recipes from the television. Though we seem to be in the furthest most primitive corner of the world, the outside world is definitely creeping in. The walnut milk is laced with sugar, the giant rounds of flat brown bread are fresh and warm, straight from the bread oven and there is local honey and bowls of walnuts to have on the bread and fresh trout plucked from the river that morning. Acts of generosity and care and it is hard to leave these very special people. Feel a very strong bond with them and find it very sad to say goodbye.

We are visiting another Community Based School which AC is funding and like all these schools, it is remote. There is a small doorway in an adobe wall, which we clamber through. We are greeted by teachers with presents of scarves and flowers and garlands. This school is thriving and already has classes up to grade 6 and will soon be recognized by the Ministry of Education as an official Primary School. They need a building . There are 300 children attending and only 2 classrooms. These are dark and small and when you step outside of them , you enter a courtyard full of children studying under the Autumnal trees in the soft morning sunshine. Above the courtyard are 2 more levels, and on each level there are more open air classrooms. Everywhere the chant of children. Alphabets, poems and the Qu’ran. We visit every classroom. The teachers then present us with a letter, signed with signatures and thumbprints, asking for official recognition and a proper building .

This will be a priority for 2013.

15th October - Seeing fundraising in action

2011-10-24T13:25:00.004Z

Woke to another beautiful day, more walnut milk and trout! Said fond farewells and walked into the village square to await the drivers. Spent a wonderful half hour talking to the villagers, watching life go by and looking at the incredible scenery. The village mosque is very old and has beautiful carved wooden balconies. Opposite is a tiny shop, also of wood, the typical Afghan double doored, lock up spaces , with no room to stand, and all jammed high with wares. Outside the shop an old man hugs his grandchildren, 5 turbaned men stand by their truck loaded high with potatoes and a farmer walks by with his goat. I could have stayed there happily, but with the arrival of the drivers, all the men of the village came up to us and shook our hands and wished us goodbye and we sped off down the valley.

We drove to Annoy School, which is our priority build for 2012. Over 700 children are studying outside or in ruined classrooms. I am determined to raise the funds to build this school. Then on to Khadeja Kubretal, the girls school I visited with our donor last year. A huge building project is now underway thanks to some wonderful funding we received and so exciting to see a new school going up. 1100 girls will have a school by the Spring time. I went and met the girls who are all thrilled.

Annoy School

Studying outside

Khadeja Kubretal School

The others went ahead to interview the girl for the film. Mukhtar and I drove another beautiful route to a Community Based School we are running. So remote and set up so that children from this area could go to school. All the main schools are too far away for them to walk to. We left the cars and walked down a steep hill through a quiet mud brick village and down into a flat area shaded by blazing golden sycamores. There, on the wooden balcony of the village mosque, was the Community Based School we are funding . The village provides either rooms in the mosque or in a local home to act as the base for the community school. AC then funds the teacher salary and the books and admin and provides teacher training and for a cost to us of just £35 a year for each child, these children can go to school. And there they sat, chanting the alphabet in one class and drawing in another.

Community based School on the wooden balcony of the Mosque

We went on afterwards to another CBS, far away from this one beside the river , over a very worrying wooden bridge. Climbed through a wooden doorway and came to Viruf CBS and more classes of children. It is so rewarding to see the project in action.

On again to another AC School in Worsaj, where we went to watch a teacher training programme we are funding, which is run by SCA. 27 primary school teachers, including teachers from the CBSs had come along for training . They were all busy making teaching aids for their schools. The room was buzzing with activity and the walls were cluttered with drawings, teaching aids and posters on the Millennium Development Goals . Again really good to see the project in action and to meet some of the teachers benefiting from the funding.

We were given lunch in the school, made by all the teachers—more rice and huge chunks of meat and so generous but oh how I longed for vegetables!

The girls finished the filming in the afternoon. They had their story and had managed to film without ever showing the face of our girl. Night was closing in and it was getting really cold. Began to feel rather bleak, but we were in for a fantastic evening . Drove off to stay in a village with the security chief of the area. The family were so lovely and the house immaculate and cosy. They were the most beautiful looking family with 9 children . The mother had such a serene face and when we talked to her, she told us how she had been so lucky in her life. She had had a love marriage, not an arranged one and had married at 16, when her husband was 18. She said she still loved him and he was a wonderful husband to her . I cannot tell you how good it was to hear this after all the tragic stories we had listened to! We were looked after so well and had the most delicious supper of fresh pumpkin cooked in sugar and yoghurt, huge bowls brimming with hot noodles and beans, chutneys, rice and for pudding , pistachio milk pudding , fresh watermelon and pears. All so spoiling . Wonderful talks in the light of the hurricaine lamp and felt so close to them all.

14th October - Fatimah's Story

2011-10-24T13:20:00.005Z

Clear blue skies and relief that the night was over. Walnut milk tea for breakfast- a strange flavour of milk/walnuts and salt which may sound delicious but is a tough one to drink every morning as sometimes the milk is a little rancid and there is a strong salty taste!

Autumn in the Hindu Kush with all its colours and the wintry light on the mountains. Up to interview the three other girls who had written in to tell their stories. We found our girl. She was so feisty and fun and energetic and defiant and so wanted to tell us her story. For safety’s sake we have to change her name . She asked to be called Fatimah. She is 20 and beautiful . Fatimah went to school up to grade 3. Then her parents pulled her out of school because they felt it was not secure enough for her to have an education and that she was getting too old to be seen going to school. She was heartbroken as she so loved her school. She had to watch other members of her family going off to school and see her friends carrying on with their education.

At the age of 14 , her cousins family offered 250,000 afghanis in dowry for her marriage to her cousin. That is roughly 5000 usd. Her brother spent the money on a car. She was married to someone who was cruel and violent and she described making tea with blood running over her forehead. She really hated him. She soon became pregnant and then her husband went off to Iran and he has only returned once since then and cares nothing for her or his son. She finds it hard to love her child. She has come to live back with her parents. They eventually allowed her to go back to school. She had to persuade the school authorities to let her go back even though she missed more than 6 years. She doesn’t care that she is much older than most of the pupils. She says her education offers her a wonderful escape from her life. She loves History and Dari Literature and wants to teach. Her dream is to escape to University and study alongside someone she loves. She cannot divorce her husband and longs for him to divorce her, but may never be free to marry again. She is afraid of what will happen to her when her parents die and she has no one to look after her.

Her friends each wanted to tell their stories and there we sat, listening to tales of early marriage, being pulled out of school, becoming mothers so very young. One girl had to get married at 14 when her father died leaving no male relative to look after her, her mother and her sister. She was never able to go back to school. She had her first child at 16 and has had 3 more since and now she says, because of the children, her husband is beginning to show her some love. Her mother was with us in the house and I tried to imagine what a dreadful decision it must be to make your daughter marry so young . No choice in it, she had to do it to save the family.

What came across so much was their absolute desire to have an education. Some of the girls, when banned from school, had escaped their homes and gone anyway without their parents even knowing. The value of education here is so high, I never realised before quite how much it means to these girls to go to school.

Afternoon off and a delightful picnic in the hills beside the lake. It is a paradise here and totally untouched by tourism. We had the whole place to ourselves. Bleached soft sandy shores and a deep green lake surrounded by mountains . The men laid out carpets, collected firewood and boiled up vast cauldrons of rice and green tea. I lay back and slept in the sunshine .

We spent the night in another village, arriving after dark. Small children ran to greet us and took my hand and helped me through the dark streets. It was a totally different evening to the one before. The people were so gentle and kind and polite and the children so well behaved. We had so many in there with us and the children sat looking at our photos and playing noughts and crosses with us. More meat and rice and huge plates of food for us. All so generous ...but hard to eat such volumes!

13th October - N...'s story

2011-10-18T10:35:00.006Z

N…'s house was at the very top of the village, high up overlooking the mountain ranges beyond and the valleys far below. Rain began to fall as we arrived at her home. A chill cutting wind blew a reminder of the winter ahead. We received a wonderful welcome as we climbed through the wooden door and into the courtyard. We were taken into a room where we sat with the women. N… and her sister so beautiful and immaculate, dressed in clothes decorated with embroidery, done by hand.

N… had been at school as a child and had loved being able to study. It all came to an end when a girl at her school ran off with a boy from her village. The incident caused outrage and many parents withdrew their daughters from school. N… was one of those and she was forbidden from returning to school. At 14 her parents married her off to her cousin despite knowing that he was an opium addict. She led an awful life and had children very young. Her husband took drugs in front of her and her children and he often beat her. Eventually he joined the military and she begged her parents to take her back home and to let her go to school again. They relented and she was allowed to attend school once more. She is much older than all the girls in her class, but she doesn’t care. She loves being back and is planning to be a teacher, to have her own salary and to be more independent. The good result from her harsh life story, in her own words, is that her beautiful younger sister will be given some say in whom she marries and will never have to suffer as she has. She would have been wonderful for the film, but we received a call the next day to say her family would never allow her to be filmed.

Listening to these stories, it makes me so ashamed that I haven’t learned the language yet. There are so many stories behind the lives of these men and women and I feel I have barely scratched the surface.

That night we stayed in a village house. They prepared great plates of rice and meat, chutneys, naan, a sweet pistachio pudding and fragrant fresh pears from the orchards. Far too much and as ever so generous.

We went to the women's quarters, usually a really good experience, but this seemed different. The women were quite aggressive and wanted gifts and it all felt very unpleasant and not good for Amy’s first night. There was a bad atmosphere and the room felt very bleak and we all felt rather ill at ease and far from home and insecure as we spread out our sleeping bags on the floor and tried to sleep.

13th October - From Faiabad to Worsaj

2011-10-17T13:01:00.007Z

Drove from Faizabad to Worsaj, a spectacular route into the Hindu Kush. Stopped along the way to meet Mukhtar, our guide for the visit, and to have a picnic breakfast in the mountains. Rugs and carpets were laid out and we had tea and fresh local pears overlooking the river below. Arrival to School built by AC a few years back for 1100 girls.

They were all out waiting for us, long columns of girls of every age, some in burkhas, most in white scarves. As we got out of the cars, the head master greeted us and then boomed instructions out over his megaphone. The girls all clapped and as we walked through the pathway of cheering faces, some came out from the crowds and put garlands over our heads and gave us bunches of plastic flowers. We greeted every one of them...they had been waiting for 3 hours for us. Then had to give speeches and a choir came and sang the traditional welcome songs for us.

(student enjoying receiving a pencil gift from 10x10 in the classroom)

The purpose of this visit is to see the schools and the Worsaj Education Project in action and also to find a girl to tell her story of how education has changed her life. Mukhtar had asked girls to write in their stories if they were interested in taking part and we were given their letters to read. They were so moving.

The first girl we visited who had written in was N.... We walked through the villages to get to her house. Still always struck by the beauty of this place, however often I visit; it never fails to make an impression. Hard to describe what it feels like to walk through these villages, on dusty pathways between the high adobe walls, past wooden doorways, streams, children collecting water, men on donkeys or donkeys carrying vast loads, women in burkhas.

More blog coming soon, when Sarah’s internet access is up and running.

13th October - Worsaj

2011-10-17T13:01:00.006Z

Drove from Faizabad to Worsaj, a spectacular route into the Hindu Kush. Stopped along the way to meet Mukhtar, our guide for the visit, and to have a picnic breakfast in the mountains. Rugs and carpets were laid out and we had tea and fresh local pears overlooking the river below. Arrival in Khanaka village at Bibi Ayisha School-built by AC a few years back for 1100 girls.

The first girl we visited who had written in was Najiba. We walked through the villages to get to her house. Still always struck by the beauty of this place, however often I visit; it never fails to make an impression. Hard to describe what it feels like to walk through these villages, on dusty pathways between the high adobe walls, past wooden doorways, streams, children collecting water, men on donkeys or donkeys carrying vast loads, women in burkhas.

More blog coming soon, when Sarah’s internet access is up and running.

From Kabul to Faizabad - 12th October 2011

2011-10-17T10:34:00.010Z

At last the team are together. Amy and Leslie, who will make the film, Zarghuna Kargar, who will write the piece - and is an Afghan author who now lives in England and ran the BBC woman’s hour on the World Service. She is really well known in Afghanistan and many people here have listened to her stories of women's lives around Afghanistan.

Security at Kabul airport is a farce. We were body searched and had all our bags opened but they never searched the cars and Leslie took her bag through unchecked. Boarded the UN flight and had a huge journey across Afghanistan. Flew over deserts and mountains on landscapes untouched by time. We sped on over stark ravines and sand smothered hills with tiny villages perched impossibly on the slopes in areas starved of colour, bleached by the drought.

First stop Mynamar, a city seemingly cut off from the outside world where Leslie spent 2 years setting up a women’s radio station. Then a long haul to Mazar, and on to Kunduz before our final stop in Faizabad. Too late to drive to Taloqan, we are staying in Faizabad , all sleeping in a room together with a pomegranate tree outside our window.

2011-10-13T11:05:00.002Z

Sarah sent a text last night saying “Amazing flight, rather like a bus, stopping in Myanman and Mazarr to let people on and off – flying over deserts, snowy mountains and oases” – she will text when she can and update the blog when she gets an internet connection – Paula

Back in Kabul - 10th October 2011

2011-10-11T13:06:00.003Z

Sitting in my room looking out over the barbed wire to Kabul and cloudy grey skies. Evening rush hour chaos and din. It is great to be back.

I am here with Amy Atkinson who is here from the States making a film for a social action campaign called 10x10. The film is based on the stories of 10 different girls in 10 different countries, their struggle to have an education and how that education has changed their lives. The 10 x 10 Group has chosen a partner charity in each of the 10 countries, and Afghan Connection is the Afghanistan partner. So it is all very exciting and for more information please visit their website, www.10x10act.org.

We arrived here yesterday, tired and bedraggled after delayed flights, as dusk and drizzle descended on Kabul. Received a rapturous welcome from the Afghan drivers and guards and Gul Noor, the wonder cook , whom I have known for 10 years and who fed me up after my first food deprived visit to Afghanistan in 2002. Immediately whisked off by Jorgen, Olympia and Rafat, who all work for Swedish Committee and taken for a lavish buffet at the Serena Hotel. Built by the Aga Khan and now a 5 star hotel, the Serena lies behind blocks of concrete, massive iron doors, layer upon layer of security gates and checkpoints. A haven for expats in a city of fear, despite all its protective layers, it has been the target of several murderous attacks and rpg (rocket propelled grenade) attacks. It offers luxury and has a gym, swimming pool and countless other facilities. Some business men who come to Afghanistan never leave its walls, they arrive in Kabul, hold all their meetings in the Serena and then leave. (probably very sensible!)

Amy and I had meetings all morning. Heard about progress at SCA....women now sharing the same dining room as the men—though they still sit fairly separately....and the first group of female school consultants ever to go out of Kabul without being accompanied by male relatives went all the way to Karachi. This is a massive step forward and when I met the women, they seemed so happy to have had the opportunity and so unlike some of the many women you meet, who are too timid to speak to men or strangers.

On to the cricket camp

The MCC Foundation has sponsored us to hold the first ever cricket camp to train men and women to be professional coaches. There is not a single professional cricket coach in Afghanistan. After some massive organisational headaches and some interesting last minute panics, it all came together today. Ten teachers from all over Afghanistan, from schools where we have built MCC funded pitches, came to Kabul for the 3 day coaching. 14 men and women chosen by the Afghan Cricket Board also joined the camp.

Four coaches from Cricket 4Change UK came over to do the coaching. The weather messed up the first day! The rain had made the new cricket stadium ground too wet for play. So instead, they all met at the Afghan Cricket Board where they had theory lessons all morning and then went out on to the roof to practice their new skills.

We went to watch. It was a small moment of history. The first ever camp to train coaches and, as was pointed out, probably the first ever camp in any sport to create professional coaches in Afghanistan. An emotional moment!
The enthusiasm was remarkable and so heartening and they all got dressed into kit provided by the MCC . There were 3 women there, who I have met before and they are all part of the Afghanistan Women’s Team and one is the founder of female cricket in Afghanistan. They were so delighted to be part of the group of first ever pro coaches in Afghanistan.

The aim is for them all to pass ICC Level 1 coaching this time round and then to go onto Level 2 next year. The teachers will return to their communities able to teach their school children as well as the local people. It was a fantastic afternoon! Tomorrow they will be at the Stadium for another day of coaching and I will be heading up to the North of Afghanistan.

Good Friday; 22nd April 2011

2011-05-04T09:05:00.005Z

We left at first light, with the moon still up over the mountains and said fond farewells to our hosts to start the beautiful journey back to Taloqan. We made it by 8am and met up with Gareth and Jane. They had done a remarkable 2 days of teaching the teachers and headmasters of the region and had a fascinating and fulfilling time. It was great to see them again and to hear about all they had achieved. We left Taloqan and drove straight to Faizabad to the centre for disabled children, where we were to stay and await the morning flight following day.

We had to eat in the bazaar, which was right beside the mosque. I would rather have gone without food as was still very nervous about what might happen in the US. The call to prayer took on a sinister tone for me now and I felt very foreign and very much a sitting target! But there is no denying Faizabad’s beauty and fascination and as we walked home through the bazaars, it began to work its magic and calm my nerves.

We lay outside on cushions as dusk fell and the electricity never materialised. We ate our supper under the stars on our last night in Afghanistan, with no news of the outside world, wondering whether or not the burning had just taken place. Slept on the floor again and with all 4 of us trying to sleep in a tiny room, not much of a night and lay awake for the now eerie calls to prayer.

I spent my last morning in the classroom of the disability centre with 5 deaf children and two blind boys and a child with Down’s Syndrome. We had such fun! They copied a poster made by children at the Arbour Vale Special Needs School in Slough. They each drew round their hands and coloured in the shapes, which I then cut out. They made a huge poster of a peacock with hand feathers. The determined looks on their faces and huge efforts at concentration as they used the glue stick and finished their work was incredibly touching and a reminder of how the simple things in life can often bring the most joy!

Just before we took off from Faizabad in the safety of the UN plane, I received a message that the Pastor had been locked up and a disaster averted. I could have happily killed him! I said my farewells at Kabul to Ollie , Gareth and Jane - the teaching workshops would continue in Kabul, but I had to be home for Easter day.

I had 4 hours to wait for my Dubai flight and still nearly managed to miss it. I sat beside a Hazara who is now living in Australia and had such a very poignant conversation. He had fled Afghanistan during the Taliban regime. Thousands of Hazaras were massacred and those that survived were denied jobs and beaten up when they ventured out on the streets. He had been given asylum in Australia and had just visited his mother and family for the first time in 11 years. As he flew away from Kabul, he knew that he might never get back to his homeland again. He could see that there was no possibility of return and no future there for his children. I know how strong the communities and family units are in Afghanistan and it is devastating that so many thousands of families have been torn apart by the war.

I landed at Heathrow at 6 am and was totally overjoyed at the surprise of 2 sons standing at the meeting point to collect me - so emotional. As soon as we got home, the whole family went to church on a sunny Easter morning. The sermon was based on the theme of Freedom from Fear. I sat there feeling free from fear for the first time in some days. I was completely overwhelmed by the feeling that I no longer had to be afraid and by the gratitude that I live in England, which for all its faults, offers me a safe place to bring up my children with freedom from fear. I reflected on all those people I had met, on the Hazara, on the lives of all those across the world who live in fear all the time. The blossom was out in the churchyard. I walked around my garden alone. So much sunshine and green and buttercups in solid yellow on the fields - everything so beautiful and so safe - so very very good to be back home.

21st April 2011

2011-05-03T10:38:00.019Z

Rough night - eaten alive by bed bugs as I hadn’t left room in my suitcase for a sleeping bag! We set off early, driving through the ancient villages and hills alongside the river towards the Mian Shar valley and a village called Kimyan, where we are running a Community Based School. On arrival, we laid out rugs by the river and breakfasted on green tea, freshly baked naan and the most delicious fried trout which the women had cooked very early in the morning. Soon we were surrounded by a crowd of children who were walking to the school. The Governor of Worsaj came to greet us and thanked us for all our work. We had met him on our last visit and been very impressed by him.

The CBS is held in an old house and as we approached we were met by the symphonic sound of children chanting the alphabet. I love these schools. So simple, held in tiny rooms in the village, packed with kids who would have no education without this initiative. I am sure it is the way forward for achieving the goal of getting all children to school by 2020.

On to the main village of Mian Shah and the Asrafia Boys School, where we interviewed pupils in tents, filled with mosquitoes and dust where they study each day. The Bibi Zainab Girls School is next door which needs more classrooms and has no furniture, with all the girls sitting on the floor.
We drove back to Bibi Ayisha and spent the next few hours, seeing all the girls and visiting them in the science lab. It is remarkable how far things have come-these girls used to study outside. It really is a beautiful school with so much hope. Their twin school had made them hundreds of mini white boards, one for each pupil, and they all wrote messages on them in English for donors and pupils back home.

We raced on up the mountain to Tarusht and its village girls school. It is just the most beautiful village, full of cherry blossom and bright green fields of wheat, right up in the heights so that the views to all the other Worsaj valleys are magnificent.

We went through a door in a wall and there were hundreds of girls standing in line waiting for us. I was totally weighed down by garlands and presents by the time I reached the school at the top of the hill.

This is the next school on our list to build and we already have the funding, so they are all overjoyed. There are over 1000 girls and just a handful of classrooms which are in disrepair.

The good will at that school was overwhelming. We sat in the courtyard surrounded by all the teachers and children, giving and listening to speeches. The choir sang.

There was total exuberance and joy there and after the ceremony, we were completely mobbed as we walked to the headmasters house for lunch. Hundreds of women in burkhas came out to greet me and took my hand and dragged me in to a dusty courtyard and up some steps into a traditional mud bricked house.
I counted 44 of them squashed in to the room around me. Burkhas were discarded and suddenly those anonymous blue veiled ghosts, became beautiful, lively young women, full of curiosity about me and my life. I passed around photos of my children and never got them back. They just wouldn’t part with them. Copious amounts of rice and mutton were brought in and fresh yoghurt. The headmaster popped his head around the door every now and then with a huge smile, triggering the women to disappear under their sea of burkhas.

Saying goodbye was a whole village affair and I became lost in a mist of giggling blue women. Now under their burkhas, I could identify only a few through those imprisoning grids, their characters too large to be hidden away. Hugged and kissed, I retreated to my car and waved goodbye to these wonderful people, feeling totally overjoyed to have come to this place and so happy that we are building a school here.

Some of the villagers and the rest of our entourage-which always grows when we do these travels, decided that we should have a cup of tea up in the most beautiful area of the mountains. So we went with these men-school consultants, teachers, district education authorities and some, who to this day I am not sure I know who or why they were with us- up the rough track on a calm, clear evening towards the mighty snow ranges of the higher Hindu Kush. At last we stopped and climbed on to a plateau, where the rugs were laid out and we sat down to a panoramic view on the top of the world - so happy to be there.

Utterly beautiful and totally lost in time, the only sound was the hooves of the donkeys bearing their arduous loads back to the villages below. In the distant valleys you could see the ancient ploughs and brightly clad girls working in the fields. We walked and walked and it became more and more beautiful - it was so good to walk ….we are so well cared for here and get fed all day by such generous hosts. It was just lovely to stretch legs and walk in this stunning place.

On our way home, as dusk was falling and the villages were lit up by their hydroelectric bulbs, we spotted a school with no roof and classrooms demarcated in the dust outside this shell of a building. We decided to have a look as I said we had to put the school down on our list. I had noticed it earlier with so many children outside. We crossed a bridge on foot as the road was too narrow for our car. Climbed over the stone school wall and dropped down into its grounds. The whole building was falling down and the classrooms were open to the skies above and absolutely hazardous with broken beams and debris poised to fall into the classrooms below. As always happens, the headmaster magically appeared within seconds of our arrival and villagers turned up to tell us what had happened to the school. A local politician had promised to rebuild it prior to the elections ….but once elected, he had done nothing and because he had made a pledge to do it, no one else had helped. The irony was that the school in all its appalling decay, had been given the most spanking new, beautifully built latrine block by a German aid organisation. So here we were in classrooms with no ceilings and hundreds of children studying outside, with the best loos available to man …. nowhere to study, but luxurious loos!---pretty much sums up the haphazard aid in Afghanistan!

I am determined to build all these schools and to provide all the children in this region with safe schools and good teachers. It is a massive task but in a place like this in Afghanistan-where as many girls as boys come to school and thousands are being educated every year, it makes such great sense and we have to manage it some how.

With these thoughts swimming around my head, we arrived back at Tarusht late at night. The stars were so bright and the moon lit up the valleys and men in turbans were waiting for us in the square. They welcomed us in to their home and we sat in a huge long room on red carpets and soon about 20 male guests arrived. They were wonderful company and very light hearted and great fun to be with. But the sadness was that they told me how 80% of the men in the village end up going to Iran as illegal workers on construction sights, living in appalling conditions, in order to earn $1000 a year to send back to their families. There is so little work here other than farming and I hope that some time in the future we can help to develop some kind of job opportunities here.

We had yet another feast-which began with a speciality of massive plates of rice cooked in milk with salt and sugar, served with a huge trough in the middle of the rice which was filled up with oil!

A great delicacy, but as a starter on a well full tummy, a bit daunting. Copious plates of food followed, as always so incredibly generous.

Felt so happy with them all, but then received news from England that the US pastor who had been at the burning of the Qur’an which triggered the deaths of the UN workers, was planning to burn another copy on Good Friday. The Courts were trying to ban him but it looked as if he would go ahead. My guide told me that if he did, then the back lash would be far worse than the first time and that our lives as well as his would be in real danger. Today was Thursday and he was planning to go ahead next morning in the US. This meant we would be travelling to Taloqan City and would arrive during Friday prayers at the Mosque—just when the Mullahs would show their anger.

I went from such happiness to real deep fear in those few seconds. Ollie was great and we made a plan to leave at dawn and go straight to Faizabad and meet the teachers there, to return to Kabul if we could on the Saturday. In Faizabad we wouldn’t necessarily be safer than Taloqan, but at least it has a small runway which could offer possibility of rescue if things got really nasty. I really believed that if the pastor went ahead, we would be in the most horrible situation.

Sleeping that night was not easy. I had to climb a ladder into a small room where I slept on the floor and 4 of the family clambered on to cushions beside me. The downside to hydroelectric is that the mother wanted the bulb on all night! I got bitten again and was lying awake worrying away about the security situation. The irony was that if anything went wrong I knew I was in the safest place, and that once we left the next day, we would lose that security. But we had to get to the teachers and also had to try and get home.

20th April 2011

2011-04-23T21:50:00.015Z

Wonderful to leave Taloqan and head off to the mountains of Worsaj. The familiar drive through the gentle hills of Taloqan and on to the wilder floodplains before Fakhar with the snow topped mountains of Worsaj growing ever nearer. Such a familiar route now and past schools which we have built- Ledgei and Wahdat, still there and in their beautiful surroundings serving the local communities.

The welcome we receive at Bibi Ayisha is legendary and today was no different with rows of children standing in lines, singing us a greeting and showering me with glitter and flowers and placing garlands over my head. I love seeing the guards –splendid old men who have more wrinkles added to the contours of their face at every visit and who greet me like family.

After breakfast of fresh trout from the river, wild rocket with fresh cucumbers and naan with carrot and plum jam, served with the most delicious green tea, we went to see the boys’ school. I had opened the school last year and again we received the most magnificent welcome with the whole school standing waiting for us with more flowers and garlands.

Qawunduz Village was next and a visit to the Khadeja Kubretal Girls School. I had visited last year and we were asked to build a school for the 750 girls, most of whom were studying outside. The Bonita Trust has funded the majority of the building and the donor who came to visit last year has funded the rest and part of another girls’ school further up the valley. It was incredibly emotional arriving to find all the village men out laying the foundations of the school and moving the village road so that classrooms could be built. This is their contribution to the project and I saw them all and thanked them and watched the first foundations of the school being laid.

All the girls had come out to thank us and there followed another procession with flowers and garlands and cheers and then I was asked to give a speech. The visit was made even more emotional as our donor is very unwell and I so wished he could have been here to see the beginnings of his school and the joy he has helped to bring to these children. We were not allowed to leave without another delicious meal and more green tea!

We continued on to Anoy School which is in deperate need of classrooms. From the ridge we could see 2 tents and a classroom outside and all the other classes being held in an old building with no roof and broken down walls. I know I could get funding for this school. The need is overwhelming. However a grim man arrived and told us in loud aggressive tones that we would have to buy the land if we want to build the school. The community told us that he is a corrupt politician and never owned the land but has a fake certificate of ownership. So they refuse to pay him for the land and these children will not get a school unless some other land can be found. So depressing.

To cheer things up I distributed the beanie hats knitted by the women of East Woodhay and soon hundreds of children were wearing brightly coloured hats. Wonderful sight! Well worth bringing them all this way!

Then on to a community based school in Viruf which is being funded by AC. We are funding 30 CBS in Worsaj for 600 children and without these schools the children would not receive an education because the nearest schools are too far away. They are run out of houses or the mosque by arrangement with the community and AC pays the teachers and for the stationery and teacher training. Fantastic to see the young children studying- some of them in their first year at school. Had great fun watching their classes.

Then mats were brought and laid out by the river under the shade of the purple blossoms of the pistachio trees. Tea was served with fresh almonds and raisins.

Lastly a visit to the teacher training centre where 50 women were having training in the fading light- the future teachers of Worsaj.

And now we are in a carpeted room in a home in the hills of Qawunduz. I am sitting on cushions with 12 men sitting smiling and watching me write. They are so hospitable and arrived with bags of fresh trout to cook for our dinner. It is so rare for foreigners to stay in villages these days and we are incredibly privileged. I feel very safe here. But I am afraid of Friday and just pray that the madman in the US is not planning to burn the Q again as we have been informed ...in which case we will leave here tomorrow and get to Faizabad.

19th April 2011

2011-04-19T11:39:00.015Z

Very early start after very bad nights sleep, but a beautiful clear morning and the journey to Keshem was stunning , with the morning light on the mountains and hills and the clearest blue skies. Drove to Jari Shah Baba School, where we have built 2 classroom blocks and were greeted by the children and teachers standing at the gate. They came forward one by one and put garlands around our necks and gave us bunches of brightly coloured flowers and sang the Afghan song of welcome to us - so many familiar faces and wonderful to be back.

Gareth and Jane received a wonderful welcome and we went round the classrooms, chatting to the students. They asked us questions and told us about their lives and all the difficulties they face with getting a good education. Wherever we go we are told that the biggest problem is the standard of teaching.

They had prepared a feast for us, cooked by the students with the equipment Holt school bought for them last year. After this we did more interviews with the students for our film on Education, which will be shown to Parliamentarians in Estonia, Solvakia, Sweden, Uk, the European Parliament and in Afghanistan. The girls who came forward to be interviewed were amazing and one had been to Kabul last month to take part in our Video Conference with the European students. She has illiterate parents -her father is a bus driver and has been desperate for his children to have an education to better themselves and leave the life of poverty they lead. She wants to be a female police woman because she believes that if the country had a good police force, security would be much better. Brave girl! She had heard that we were coming and had stayed up all night to crochet a table mat for me. The head mistress gave me a beautiful scarf in pink with silver embroidery and the headmaster gave me antique silver pendant “for my daughter “ and an embroidered handkerchief for my son!

We said our goodbyes and then headed off to Mashad School where AC has funded classrooms which were completed when I visited last year. Then there were 2500 students, now there are 3000 and there are only 63 teachers. Again, we were greeted with flowers and garlands and a choir. Prefects kept the children in order by wielding sticks! Hundreds of girls came to see us and we walked around visiting the classes. Then more gifts were presented - this time Afghan clothes for us all.

To my horror, we were then invited by the local education manager back to a local house for lunch. We were already full up from the first lunch! We were welcomed in to an immaculate house and sat on the floor and served the most enormous amount of food, all beautifully presented-salads and local herbs, huge plates of rice, whole chickens, big lumps of mutton, soup, yoghurt and fruit. I had the worst possible place to sit, between the two Afghans who were responsible for the feast...they kept on and on filling my plate until I could have wept! I could hardly move to stand up. Fond farewells. Slept all the way home.

18th April 2011

2011-04-18T06:50:00.006Z

From Kabul to Faizabad

Yesterday in Kabul full of very useful meetings and a wonderful evening with Leslie Knott, who made the film Out of the Ashes, Miles Amoore, journalist and Raees Ahmadzi, cricketer, joining us. But today we left Kabul and I was SO happy to get away. Boarded the UN flight for Faizabad and reflected that it was on a UN flight from Peshawar almost exactly 10 years ago to the day that I flew in to Afghanistan for the first time, landing in Faizabad.

At that time Afghanistan was in the grip of the Taliban who had just destroyed the Buddhas of Bamiyan and were fighting the Northern Alliance and causing misery across the country. I was terrified then, but at the same time,I remember the feeling of exhilaration as I landed and began my incredible journey to a clinic in the Panjshir. Back then there were no tarmac roads and few foreigners and we never knew from day to day where we would arrive at dusk or where we would stay. We relied on the hospitality of strangers and finally made it to the clinic, where I saw hundreds of women and children and heard the stories of their lives, which had neither joy nor hope. There were hundreds of thousands of internally displaced people living in refugee camps which stretched out as far as the eye could see and hospitals, bombed by the Taliban, operating out of shells of buildings on patients from the frontline. It is strange to look back on the ten years and seeing how that journey has changed my life.

The landing strip is the same and the approach as treacherous and beautiful, over the Hindu Kush and hairpinning down to the metal runway and an isolated Badakshan. It is uniquely beautiful, with vast lush hills and massive mountains and villages perched impossibly on to the steep shale strewn slopes. But the road has tarmac and we sped along past timeless scenes of donkeys with bright saddle bags, men in purple and green striped Badakshani coats and women clad in brilliant blue burkhas.

Arrived in Taloqan within a few hours and were greeted at the office by Mukhtar, whom I have known for years and the familiar faces of the guards. Splendid lunch and off to Sari Sang School, twinned to St Catherines. Deeply conservative area in a village hidden in the midst of adobe walls, narrow dusty lanes and fields where men followed the oxen ploughing as others had done centuries before. The girls were great and begged us to get them better teachers. But as with everything else in Afghanistan, it is fraught with complex issues and the headmaster has little power to hire and fire -so much is dependent still on the powers that be higher up and who they know and which teachers they favour. The girls spoke English, though it sounded as if they had learned the phrases off by heart. They loved the cards and letters from St Catherines and asked lots of questions about the girls in England.
And now about to sleep in my dorm of 4 – Sima, Olympia and Jane and we will head off at dawn for Keshem to visit Jari Shah Baba School.

15th April 2011

2011-04-16T17:11:00.013Z

Kabul one year on. A fortress city with more fortifications.

I am here with two teachers, Jane, an English teacher from The Sholing Technology College, Southampton and Gareth, a History teacher from Eton, who are here to give teacher training, and with Ollie, who will be making a film for us.

After a security briefing from SCA (always enough to make one want to turn back and run home) we set out for Said Daoud Khan Girls School where we were running one of our girls cricket coaching camps. Miles Amoore, Sunday Times Correspondent, (who came to Afghanistan with me years back when he was on the Newbury weekly news desk) joined us fresh from Libya where he had been reporting, escorted by Gadaffi’s henchmen.

50 girls from 5 different ethnic groups, had come together from 5 schools across Kabul for a 2 day camp. Dressed in whites emblazoned with the Spirit of Cricket, Afghan Connection and AYCSO, they received coaching from 3 female and one male coach -all siblings from a wonderful cricketing family. The female coaches play for the Afghanistan Women’s Cricket Team.

Most girls were playing cricket for the first time, but a few had played before and one or two were magnificent and have been spotted for the Afghan team. One had been taught by her 3 brothers in the refugee camps of Pakistan. Judging by the strength the ball that whacked me off her bat, they taught her well! Another, called Diana, comes from a cricketing family too and all her siblings and both her parents play. A beautiful girl with green eyes and henna in her hair told me how she had her parents’ blessing to be at the camp but all her aunts and uncles were very against it and had criticised the family. She loves cricket and says she is very very angry that girls have so few opportunities and that “uneducated” people across Afghanistan make life so hard and restricted for women. Some spoke excellent English and loved talking to us about everything from cricket to hair dyes, their passion for romantic novels including Romeo and Juliet and their determination to have careers as engineers and doctors. They begged us to come back again and do another camp for them.

When people ask me, as they often do, why I continue to work in Afghanistan when there is such poor security and such a huge cloud lying over the future, I wish they could meet these girls. It is when I see them and listen to them and witness their determination and indomitable spirit despite all that they are up against, that I know that we cannot give up. Jane told me how her Nicaraguan daughter in law had told her that the one thing that gave her hope as a child during the worst years of civil war, were the teachers who came to Nicaragua and risked their lives to bring them education. It allowed her to become literate and made her feel that people outside of her country cared about her and she has never forgotten.

I think of the letter I received from a girl in Bibi Ayisha Girls School in remote Northern Afghanistan, saying that the best day of her life was the day I visited her school, which had no classrooms. Now she studies in a brand new school with 1100 other girls. She has hope. And as I look at Kabul one year on, with a cold drizzle falling from skies which hum with helicopters and sirens and feel slight despair at the lack of progress and the uneasy atmosphere of fear, I will keep those girls in the forefront of my mind and not give up!

27th April

2010-04-29T16:18:00.002Z

This was sent to me today - I will put chronologically later - I didn't want anyone to miss it! Paula

Awoke in our Afghan home and were served a beautiful breakfast of fresh naan, sweet tea and trout. The day is perfect, with clear blue skies and views to the horizon. Head off after fond farewells, to the lakes in Maidar Valley for a picnic. Today is Muahideen Day and all the schools are closed, so we have a holiday. As we drive up the valley, we pick up various people at each village, until it seems the car ahead can fit no more inside. We have no idea who they all are but everyone is very happy. Pots and oil and rice and tea are loaded onto the vehicles. The journey leads us right up the valley towards the distant Anjoman and the Panjshir Valey beyond.

Teachers join the trip at the last village, armed with fishing nnets to catch our lunch. At last we round the corner and ahead are the famous lakes. For years the local people have been asking me to stay in their villages so that they could show me these lakes, and I see why. We race down the hillside through the brightest red flowers, towards the glacial waters. The backdrop is magnificent, with villages clinging precariously to the mountainside just beneath the snow line and the lake stretching for miles and then dropping over the edge of a massive cravass into a cascading waterfall.

We drive on until we reach a flood plain, where we stop and rugs and cushions are laid out on the grass. All around are the mountains and rivers and streams. Some of the men search for firewood and set up camp, whilst others fish or make tea and the lazier ones swim and play volleyball in the sunshine. The fish soon arrive- some really big rainbow trout caught in the lake and much smaller river trout. They are gutted and laid out on the bonnet of the car and salted in the sunshine. Soon we have a fantastic picnic of fresh fish and rice in this glorious place. We sit planning how we can bring trekkers here who would walk and contribute to the community by funding schools from their trip. There are 3 valleys to be expored and the security is good. Cannot describe what a wonderful day we had .

We came back to the village and walked across the river on stepping stones, followed by a kite tail of childre . We were staying in one of the teacher's houses and arrived just as it was getting dark. Mary and I were ushered straight to the women's quarters, down a narrow alley way and through a courtyard. We sat in a small room and soon there were 21 family in there to see us and we had a really joyful evening. We talked with them all, played with the children and shared gifts, late into the night. We had such language barriers, but managed a really special evening. Wife number one (childless) lives there with wife number 2 - who has between 10 and 18 children... and there are uncles, aunts and cousins living in the house too. The only problem came with supper when they sat and watched us eat ....and some of it was very hard to eat ! Shared the room with wife number one and Medina, one of the daughters of wife number 2. Very little sleep.

This morning we awoke to the cockerel at 5 and the women started working. We sat in the courtyard and watched them set about their daily tasks. The mother tended the animals and milked the cows. She let out the hens and fed all the animals. Guinea fowl scratched around for food. Medina and Rouaida, sat on a platform scrubbing the washing with big blocks of soap.

Water was collected in yellow containers and poured into blackened kettles and all the cooking was done over an open kitchen fire. Bread was made fresh and covered with poppy seeds. We ate it with big bowls of heated fresh milk mixed with crushed walnuts ....and more fish!! It felt really special to have stayed at this home and to have had this brief insight into their lives. The lasting impression is that they have a truly cohesive family and community. no one is lonely in this village.

28th April

2010-04-29T12:28:00.008Z

Just arrived back in Taloqan after a few days out in the mountain villages of Worsaj.

It has been the most incredible experience. We drove out to Khanaka village 2 days ago. Along the way we passed 2 schools in the valley which had been built by AC. On arrival, we went straight to Bibi Ayisha High School. This is a school for 1100 girls . The building was completed last year thanks to a very generous donor who was born in Afghanistan. It is a thriving school and, though none of the girls here has an educated mother, 35 graduated and went to University last year.

We always receive the most overwhelming welcome at this school and this day was no exception. All the girls had come out to greet us and were lined up waiting for us. As we walked through the corridor of clapping girls, they came forward saying "I love you” and gave me bunches of flowers and gaudy garlands were wrapped around my neck. Hundreds of them! They screamed and laughed and followed us into the school, jamming in, hundreds of them, all crying “Tank You2
The atmosphere was alive, with girls cooking our lunch, chemistry classes to watch, sewing classes, computer classes and volley ball - so much going on. We visited as many girls as we could. Left them with a camera to take photos of their daily lives for us to show in England. Their own project , documenting their own lives.

We were then called to the boys school, which has just been completed thanks to a donor who travelLed out here and wanted to help this area and education. Again, hundreds of children were lined up waiting for us and we received another rapturous welcome and could hardly move under the weight of flowers and garlands. Made me weep! Always have to give a speech at these places... and that made me very emotional too. The Governor had turned out and everyone thanked us for making such an impact on education in this area.

We ate a delicious lunch all laid out on a beautiful cloth at the girls school. Then we were whisked away in our cars up a rough mountain track which hugged the river below. Through tiny villages we went until we reached Quanduz. The school teachers here had heard that we were in Khanaka village. Our reputation for building schools has spread, and they had sent someone down the valley to beg us to come and visit their schools.

Again, hundreds of children lined our route and this time sprayed us with glitter as well as heaping us with flowers and garlands. It is how I imagine it might be to be a pop star, only instead of high heels, I am in my trekking boots, and the red carpet is replaced by a dusty track! The boys greet us first and then we climb up to the girls school for another alley of students and more greetings. We see girls studying out on mats in the dust and are walked to a table . There we sit and are served tea, local almonds and sweets out in the open. The whole school gathers round us. Boys perch on the school roof, girls, some in burkhas, some in head scarves, sit before us and the headmaster stands and gives a speech asking us to help to build a school. There are 700 girls and only 6 classrooms and the boys are 1000 and have a tiny building, with hundreds sitting outside.

It is at times like these that I look around me and pinch myself and wonder how on earth I have reached this point in my life. How all these people think I am the answer for their school, that I will build 2 schools for them and help them with their education. How I have even managed to build any schools I sometimes wonder...and now there is so much expectation. I call myself Lady Dollars as I think they probably believe that I can easily find money! And yet I do not begrudge them asking , rather I love the fact that they heard I was here and managed to get us to visit and want their school so badly. And of course, I want to help and I want to find a way ....and I also really want to concentrate our aid to this valley and build all the schools that are so needed here. As I look at their expectant faces, I promise myself to find a way.

We end our day with a fishing trip. We head to the river and one of the teachers brings a fishing net. He wades into the icy water and casts his net again and again, moving downstream to the snow covered mountains beyond. He pulls out little trout and soon fills a bag with fish. We head back to the village and make our way down the narrow mud walled paths to the house where we will stay. We climb up some wooden steps and into a carpeted and cushioned room. A delicious supper is brought in for us, including the fresh fis . The moon is full and I sit by the river trying to catch a few moments of silence and privacy, but look up to see twenty children racing down the hill to join me. In Afghanistan, it seems, you are never alone. I try to wash and do my teeth and am shadowed closely by the son of the house, who has obviously been told to look after me. He watches every move and I wonder how on earth I can sneak off ! Definitely NO privacy possible. But at last Mary and I are taken to sleep in the women’s quarters, on beautiful cushions in a low ceilinged room.

Tuesday 27th April

2010-04-27T08:41:00.002Z

Sarah is now traveling to Worsaj and is unlikely to make contact for three days - as soon as she does I will update the blog. Paula

Monday 26th April - afternoon

2010-04-27T08:25:00.005Z

An afternoon visit to Sari Sang School, twinned to St Catherines. The school lies along a dusty track lined by high mud walls. To reach it you pass through villages unchanged by time. The only anachronism is the swarm of German heavy armoured vehicles which passes us on our way, sending clouds of dust billowing into the air and smothering all who walk nearby.

The school is in a very conservative area and Oliver is not allowed to film. But great progress has been made and following the construction of a higher wall, the girls are now playing volleyball –allowed to do sport for the very first time. We take a class of combined grades 9-11 and having read out cards and letters from St Catherines girls, run a lesson on the Millennium Development Goals. Fascinating to hear their views. Afghan girls are not usually asked for their opinions. Classes are never interactive, but prescriptive and teacher led, with no interaction from pupils.

Today, we asked the girls to come up and write the goals they knew on the board. Mary illustrated them. Then the class was asked to vote for the goal they considered most important. The concept of voting took a while to explain. On first attempt, everyone voted more than once. Finally we managed to get them to choose just one goal. The results were surprising. First came health and security, gender didn’t feature—they said they follow the guidelines of the Qu’aran and are happy to follow these. Education was important but not top of the list. Then we asked each girl to explain why they had voted for their choice of goal. Fascinating to hear them debate, and probably the first time they had ever done so.

The answers were brilliant and well thought through. As the lesson went on they became more confident after such a hesitant start. The last question I asked was what was their one wish. Peace, security, health for the entire country, end to conflict, possibility of further education and then just 2 who allowed a wish for themselves - to travel abroad and to be successful.

A fascinating afternoon. Tomorrow to the villages of Worsaj and so no contact for the next 3 days.

Monday 26th April - Taloquan

2010-04-26T09:04:00.003Z

A memorable morning at School for Deaf abnd Disabled in Taloqan. 45 children. Mary Hare School had made some wonderful interactive games for them and we had a fantastic time playing with the children. A giant farmyard with stick on animals brought so much pleasure and was used to teach the children .. and us...sign language for each animal. Puppets made by the UK children were used for a puppet show with the girls and I have never heard so much laughter.

We then ran an Olympic Games morning. We did competitions in football and volleyball for the boys and skipping for the girls and presented medals. We used a giant parachute to play games. Because none of them speaks, all the games were silent other than the squeals of laughter. A truly happy morning. We finished with a party with all the drinks I bought en route to the school and a huge bag of sweets brought by Pat.

Sunday 25th April

2010-04-26T08:47:00.006Z

Keshem

Early start to Keshem and a beautiful morning drive. There is “drought land” across these hills. Wheat is sown each year and will only grow if the rains come. There is no way to irrigate the land. This year the rains have been good and there is a green and brown patchwork quilting the hills. The green is the wheat and the brown is the intermittent strips of land left fallow for the year. The snow peaks of the Hindu Kush frame these drought lands. Farmers plough the soil with ancient wooden ploughs drawn by oxen and donkeys with brightly woven saddles plod past us, their heads bowed low under impossible loads.

Keshem lies in a valley where there is always the faintest sliver mist shadowing its river and waterside poplars. We branched off to our school and travelled through the villages and more spectacular scenery on the roughest of tracks, tracing the river to the furthest bridge, where we crossed to Jari Shah Baba School.

We have been visiting the school for 4 years. There are nearly 1400 girls there and most used to study outside. AC has completed 2 projects here to build enough classrooms for all the girls. We received a wonderful welcome. In the garden courtyard of the school, girls were out in headscarved teams playing volleyball ...a real joy to see in a country where so few girls are allowed to play. Another group are busy in the kitchen. They received cooking equipment from their twin school last year which we presented to them on our last visit.

Today they were jammed into a tiny room, cooking us a feast of welcome. They had brought fresh vegetables from their gardens and the head teacher had brought in some of her chickens. Delicacies such as the local flat bread stuffed with vegetables were being made amidst very happy laughter.

The whole school was buzzing. The choir had prepared the National song and a song of welcome and sang with great gusto. Everywhere we went we were followed by hundreds of children. We gave out all the twin school cards and projects and did a lesson involving all the children in discussing the Millennium Development Goal of education for all primary aged children. We heard first hand from the girls of all the reasons why children miss out on education ...and all the problems they face...but also all the fruits of education. The sadness is that these girls are so bright and determined and all want to serve their country as doctors and engineers and teachers, but as they said, it is so hard for them to afford university or to be allowed to go so far from their homes to study. None of these girls has an educated mother. It is a new generation and things are changing, but perhaps not fast enough for some of the really bright ones.

After a delicious lunch, we went back to Keshem town through the lively bazaars and on to Mashad School....for 2500 girls. Until this year this was our largest project and it looks fantastic. Beautiful buildings and wonderful grounds. Very exciting to see it finished. The first time I came here the garden was awash with groups of children who had no classrooms. Now they have a finished school.

2010 - A new visit...

2010-04-24T19:18:00.007Z

Saturday 24th April

Taloqan

Despite the ash cloud and despite the security threatening to destroy our trip, 4 of us made it out to the Kabul mountains and met up on the Jalalabad Road to start our travels to Northern Afghanistan. Uncertainty had dogged the lead up to the trip and until the day I left, I feared it would be cancelled. This cast its own cloud and it was with apprehension that I set out from London. But, the moment I stepped on to the runway at Kabul and looked up to the Hindu Kush through the familiar light of the city, it felt like coming home. This reassuring feeling is vaguely contradictory, since Kabul remains a fortress city, constantly on alert for terrorist activity, dwarfed by check points and watch towers, a city of vulnerability, swathed in barbed wire and concrete. We were stopped and had our passports checked and in just a year, I see a huge difference to the place and a nervousness accentuated to its limits.

Sitting in the Swedish Committee offices, just yards from the ISAF base on the Jalalabad Road, surrounded by roses and freshly planted turf, sipping tea with my newly met travel companions, one could never have guessed at the tension beyond the walls. I am here with Mary, from The Spectator, Oliver, who is filming the trip and Pat, who is a donor. All much younger than me and I feel like the true veteran of the trip!

Our day began at 3.30am when we left the haven of the SCA compound and headed for the airport. Outside the gates was a different world. Sinister in the darkness, blue lights on speeding police vehicles illuminated the blackened city. Armed soldiers lined the roadside and at intervals, Afghan Army stood in the road, armed with RPGs. Extraordinary to think this was all going on in a seemingly peaceful night. The road to the airport was blocked and as dawn broke and the distant mountains were released into view on a perfect morning, there was a general decent into chaos. Desperate passengers were queuing on the road awaiting the all clear.

Our plane scared the lives right out of us. It looked as if had dropped from the skies at least 30 years ago, with no attempt made to disguise the dilapidation. A relic from Russian times -Brejnev according to one onlooker, the fuselage looked like a patchwork of soot stained scrap metal, the paintwork peeling off the whole exterior. The inside was filthy and the seats flimsy. An old rug hid untold horrors up the aisle, the instructions on the emergency exit were in Russian and the seatbelts didn’t work.

A fantastic journey to Kunduz despite the surroundings, and great to land safe. Surrounded by German military, we came off the plane and headed for the Kunduz School for deaf children—linked with Arbour Vale, Slough.

As always our greeting from the children was overwhelming and they ran into my arms. We had a glorious morning of unadulterated fun - gave all the work to them prepared by the English twin school and had fun going through the projects and photos of London with them.

They also played with a massive parachute donated by Mary Hare School and all the children played magnificent games with the massive cloth.

Then on to Taloqan, where I am sitting in the sun, unable to step outside the compound to the splendid bazaar which we love so much as security won’t allow.

Thursday 7th May - Home!

2009-05-08T13:49:00.010Z

So the end of the trip has come and we have seen a great deal of hope and joy along the way. Much needed hope in a country of bad news headlines and fragile peace. Fond farewells to the drivers and to Gul Noor, who have all cared for me as their own.

News that SCA has formed 2 cricket teams from the Afghans in the Kabul and Jalalabad offices…and cricket seems to be the flavour of the moment…the guard at the Compound asks all about the cricket camp, my driver asks me if I can help supply his village with cricket equipment, the soldier searching my car at the airport asks me for a cricket bat ….the beginnings of this sport now firmly planted in Afghanistan.

28 hours and 2 flights later I arrive home. I receive the photos of the last two days of the cricket camp…..and they encapsulate the joy of the event and reinforce determination that we can arrange more in the future. I also receive photos from Elstree school… some of the cricket fixtures this week celebrated cricket in Afghanistan, with all home and away teams wearing caps emblazoned with Afghan Connection Cricket Club ….in solidarity with those boys 3500 miles away in the fields of Jalalabad.

Tuesday May 5th - Jalalabad Road

2009-05-05T13:20:00.007Z

It is never easy to sleep, however tired I am and last night the sounds of the city, the dogs barking, the American helicopters flying so close that the whole building seemed to shake, the guards talking and the drums at a wedding party mingled with the call to prayer and the soft thud of distant thunder, conspired together to interrupt the short hours of night.

Said farewell to Matthew and he went off to catch his UN flight back to Kabul. I was just heading off to the cricket camp, when he reappeared. The flight cancelled. His UK flight is this afternoon, so we had to make a swift change of plan. With the weather so changeable and the flights so unpredictable, I decided to get us both back to Kabul by road. Bismillah sorted us out 2 cars for security. As we were leaving, the logistics head, Najibullah, came up to Matthew and said ” excuse me sir, but am I right in thinking you are THE Matthew Fleming, the famous cricketer ?” Matthew gave him his MCC shirt and he was completely overwhelmed with joy... his passion is cricket and there is nothing he doesn’t know on the subject and this was his great moment!

So, we set out under dark clouds along the infamous Jalalabad road. We had tried hard to avoid it but with fights cancelled, had little choice. Everywhere, signs of war. Walled, wired in military posts along the way. Through Sarobi –the bleak place which has long been known as the badlands ...where 5 journalists were taken from their car and shot....and on up the heights towards the magnificent gorge and tunnels which lead to Kabul.

There we meet chaos! Long lines of lorries and cars are at a stand still on the steep hairpins. Men stand on the back of lorries carrying large rocks, ready to spring into action should the lorries start slipping backwards down hill! Kuchi nomads with their entire homes piled high atop camels weave in and out of the traffic with herds of sheep, goats and cows and to add to the extraordinary scene, a military convoy tries to steer its way through the traffic in huge armoured vehicles bedecked with guns and dark-glassed soldiers. The tunnel is blocked by this strange mix of humanity and we question whether Matthew will make the flight ...... but at last we move on and snake our way through the last high bends and on towards Kabul beyond.

It is lovely to arrive, greeted by familiar guards and Gul Noor—who has a delicious lunch all ready on the table and great mugs of cardamom tea. I say goodbye to Matthew again... and long to be heading home to my family...... just wish so much I could catch that plane!

Monday May 4th - "very raining"!

2009-05-04T13:56:00.015Z

Great pics for Sun & Mon - For Sun scroll down. Paula

It never rains in Jalalabad in May......thats what I have been told. As I lay wrapped up in a sheet (from someone elses bed I later realised), the most dramatic storm hit Jalalabad. The thunder crashed, lightning tore open the skies and rain pelted the tin rooves in a deafening assault. I just couldn’t believe it. Of any day in any year in Jalalabad, why now, the eve of our cricket camp? All night long the storm revisited the city and kept waking me with loud claps of thunder and the heartbreaking sound of rain hammering into my dreams. I knew that at this rate, by dawn,the city would be under water and all our hopes for the camp would be in ruins. All the planning...all those worries over details ...but we never ever questioned the weather!

Running to breakfast through the massive puddles I was quickly drenched. Matthew and I sat eating bread and watched the drips coming through the ceiling and hitting the carpet where we sat. In disbelief! Matthew, a wonderful optimist and full of humour lightened my mood as we set out for the University grounds. As we left, our driver looked up to the sky and said "very raining"...and that summed it up perfectly!

The streets of Jalalaad had become small rivers. Rickshaws looked like bizarre half submerged fish as they battled through the waters, men walked to work with water over their knees, shops were flooded, stalls were floating and we felt amphibious as we made our way slowly through the floods.

But God is great! The children arrived, the Afghan team arrived and the kit arrived. The great hall of the University harboured us all from the elements and the childrens faces lit the interior in an incredible, tangible wave of happiness and anticipation. We all sat down and the team stood up one at a time to be introduced...as each stood, huge applause and cheering filled the room and when the captain stood the children went wild.

Matthew and I had to give speeches and then, orderly queues were formed by the 150 boys for a photograph and a presentation of the kit. Each boy received whites emblazoned with MCC Spirit of Cricket and AC, a cap, T shirt and shoes. They were presented by the Afghan team members and I am absolutely certain that not one of those children will ever forget that moment .

Then the team went around the boys and chatted to them and posed for photos with them and at that moment the sun came out, the pitch almost dried off and we all headed outside for the coaching session. Armed policemen were utterly useless as, as inactive looking as can be, they allowed the crowds to come and watch. A wonderful scene as each player took 30 boys off and did warm up exercises and then coaching. These men are so gentle and so good with the kids and very very patient. Raees Ahmadzi came up to me and said ”This is a historic day for Afghanistan, this has never happened before and it is the start of something wonderful”...he also said that since he was born, he had never witnessed this weather in Jalalabad!

2 boys with disabilities from Polio from the SCA special needs school turned up and received special bowling training from Karim. We discovered some real talent and about 5 of the boys, including a 13 year old fast bowler who was outstanding and may well be recommended to the Afghan National Cricket Academy for training. It really was a miracle to see all these boys here and all the team here and this amazing event unfolding.

Lunch was provided from great cooking pots and piled high onto plates. I sat with the team and it is so fascinating talking with them. I was next to Sammi, who grew up in the refugee camps of Pakistan having fled the fighting with his family when he was two years old. They were there for 19 years. Cricket was his saving grace and he said that he could never in his wildest dreams have believed that one day he would play for his country....his mother is very proud of him!

More coaching after lunch as the skies unleashed a steady shower of rain adding a distinctly British flavour to the day. Then end of the first day of camp. Children ran back to their buses and we all went home to dry off over steaming cups of incredibly sweet tea!

This is the first camp of its kind funded by the MCC and has brought so much happiness and hope to the children and I am sure it will inspire them for the rest of their lives.

Sunday May 3rd

2009-05-04T13:49:00.014Z

I hate turbulence! Matthew and I left Kabul airport in a PACTEC plane, the only two passengers on board. It was a grey morning with thick dark clouds over the mountains and drizzle falling over the city. Amazing to have the plane and two pilots all to ourselves...though perhaps mildly disconcerting as to why!

Afghanistan from the air is usually an arid and desolate place, but the rains really have made a difference and it is like looking out over a different land. Everything so much greener, rivers and lakes full.

Before we reach Jalalabad, we watch the blackest clouds creep in around us and the turbulence starts...last time this happened I described it as like being a butterfly in a washing machine and I stand by my description......really unpleasant!!

Jalalabad is just a handful of miles from Torkham, the gateway to the tribal areas of Pakistan. The Americans are here in force and the airport we will use to land is now a military base. We are in a less friendly place now than Kabul. We are warned by the pilots that we have to make a very steep descent as a precaution and sure enough the plane banks hard to the left and we nosedive down towards the runway. Lined by vehicles of war and razor wire, we make our approach to Jalalabad airport. There we are dropped and have to make our own way the 2 km road to exit the base. By absolute chance there is a blond man dropping his friend off to take our plane back to Kabul. He is an American and has his two sons aged 2 and 4 with him...all three are blond and dressed in shalois chamise and it seems surreal to see them standing in this inhospitable place so far from home. They are one of only two expat families in Jalalabad and very kindly offer us a lift to the perimeter.

We immediately notice a change in atmosphere as we walk out into this Eastern province of Afghanistan. We are ushered into our car and told to lock the doors and off we go to the office. Lovely to see all the drivers again who used to take me round the schools here and in and out of Pakistan in the early days. We meet up with SCA members, Lucy, Leslie and Ollie and Raees Ahmadzi from the Afghan team. We have 3 local cars so as not to stand out too much along the road and head off to Roghano school.

It is like being in a different country compared to the North. The landscape is flat and fertile. The homes are large compounds with massively high adobe walls and look very sinister and unwelcoming from without....but judging by the tree tops protruding over the walls, they are havens within. We head off road and soon arrive at Roghano. Twinned to Marshgate and Brighton and Hove schools, Roghano houses 1300 boys and 1200 girls in 2 separate shifts. AC has just funded 7 new classrooms here and the twin schools have provided computers, science kit, sports kit, sewing machines and a generator.

The new classrooms look amazing and have been painted with murals of Afghanistan. The well is up and working. The boys are anxiously awaiting our arrival. We are here to open the new cricket wicket, funded by MCC through AC and to give coaching to the boys...they are totally overwhelmed that Raees, their great cricketing hero, is here at their school to give coaching. Matthew gives out Spirit of Cricket clothes and caps and we distribute the Fairstead Trust funded equipment.

The wicket looks great and we open with a demonstration by Matthew and Raees......and there follows a wonderful morning of cricket with several balls being hit right over the boundary wall and into the dust beyond. Lovely to hear Matthew explaining the meaning behind The Spirit of Cricket and discussing sportsmanship with these boys.....most of whom grew up in refugee camps in Pakistan, having fled the years of fighting...and it was here that they learned to play cricket.

I visit the girls classrooms and distribute the letters and gifts from Brighton and Hove High School and show them a film about the school . It is a very conservative area and these girls are not allowed to play sport. None of their mothers had an education. We are not allowed to take photos of the older girls. When asked about the 3 most important things in their lives, they say Religion, education and community. They long for better trained teachers and a chance to go on beyond Grade 9...as no girls have managed before...but they say they will not leave the school until grade 12....so I can already see the determination in these girls as I have seen in so many on my travels.

The head teacher asks us to his village for lunch. Feeling incredibly tired as this trip has been so full on! So was an utter delight to drive through the fields into a village by a stream with beautiful trees and to see before us a leafy square, shaded by mulberry trees, spilling their fruit on the cool ground. Laid out in a square were string beds covered with red tapestry cushions and in the centre, huge ochre Afghan carpets. Such a peaceful and timeless scene and so welcoming in the heat of the afternoon.

Lunch soon arrived and was laid right down the centre of the rug and we all sat together, with children milling around us and little faces peering through the gateway, discussing families, age, travels and life.....our hosts, the two brothers in their turbans and grey beards, with huge smiles and wicked eyes, described their 27 children to us ....one of whom is doing a masters in Thailand.....all marvellous and extraordinary and once again a true example of Afghan hospitality. Delicious breads and okra and beans, cucumber and tomatoes and coriander fresh from the fields

We are sad to leave but security means we should stay nowhere for too long. It had seemed so calm and hospitable, sharing food outside with those wonderful characters......and then as we drove back through the strange adobe walls and closed doors of the villages, we saw a huge cloud of dust ahead and a black hawk US helicopter rising out of the dust just metres ahead of us. It circled above our cars, so low, so near and for one moment I wondered if they were going to fire, but they moved on and did a practice landing just beside us engulfing the area in a sweep of dust. So menacing.

As I write..electricity has gone out and I am plunged into darkness in this rather bleak and lonely guest house. Cricket camp tomorrow.....wonder how on earth it will all work out ...so many kids and so much organizing....and so much that could go wrong! As Raees mentioned over supper...”oh yes....people have heard Afghan team is coming ....so may be thousands will turn up to watch...but don’t worry, everything is under control!”

Saturday May 2nd

2009-05-02T22:12:00.009Z

Cricket comes to Andarab!

An amazing feat! 2 Brits an Afghan and a Swede drive 12 hours to and from a school in Andarab and deliver cricket equipment to the kids.

Set out on a stunning dawn in Kabul, clear skies and a long road ahead. Ali, our driver is a splendid character and drove me all round Afghanistan last year. Rotund and jolly and sporting a moustache and a heart warming smile, he is larger than life and a great companion.

We head up towards the Salang ...yet again for me....and stop half way up by the river for a picnic breakfast provided by Jorgen, the Swedish Programme Director for SCA.

A Wonderful breakfast looking up to the snows of the Hindu Kush. Most perfect morning to see the views from the top of the pass stretching for miles along the spines and great for Matthew Fleming to have a first taste of Afghanistan beyond Kabul.

The tunnel seemed longer than ever, with visibility down to feet in the three kilometres of Stygian darkness, thick with pollution and choking fumes.

On up towards the North for 4 hours and then off the tarmac and on to the off road part of the trip. I didn’t recognise the landscape...there has been so much rain and my last visit was during a drought. The views are so beautiful—valleys stretching for miles, straddling the river, everything so green. Poppies and wildflowers everywhere, farmers in the fields and intricate networks of irrigation channels all full and crisscrossing their way over the land. Huge bands of the Hindu Kush dominate the horizon.

Then ahead, we meet a military ISAF convoy travelling painstakingly slowly and looking wholly out of place in this peaceful, timeless scene. Great armoured vehicles with men armed to the hilt surveying the landscape from the turrets. Huge red signs warn against trying to overtake, so we follow this line along the bumpiest of tracks. None of us can remember how far the school is down this track and as the minutes and hours pass we keep expecting it round every corner...but it never comes!

Then at last, I recognise the local bazaar and see the school. 6 and half hours after we leave Kabul, we finally enter the gates to the school.

So worthwhile. The school is Sang Boran and is twinned to Eton College. They have 2000 boys and only 10 classrooms and everywhere the children are outside or in tents studying in the heat of the Andarab noon. AC has managed to get two donors to build a school for these boys and the workmen and engineers are hard at work on site and it is really exciting to see. We are greeted with a warm welcome form Nasrullah—my favourite teacher- and the headmaster and other staff. They all say how happy they are in the community and the school that the new buildings are going up and at last they will have a proper school. They say that they are amazed that “a lady from another land” has found the means to build them a school.

We visit all the classes outside and see the new cricket pitch funded by MCC well under construction. Then Matthew is introduced as a famous cricketer from England and we start to hand out all the cricket equipment provided by the Fairstead Trust. Hundreds of children crowd around the vehicle as 15 are chosen to try on all the new kit. Matthew puts the stumps in to the hard ground and a space is cleared and he begins a coaching session ...just marvellous and everywhere I look I see children perched on piles of bricks or hanging out of windows or joining the crowd to watch the scene. So happy.

The boys play on as we are led to lunch in a tiny room overlooking the hills and mountains in this idyllic spot. Have a wonderful lunch all sitting on the carpet eating kebabs and naan with the teachers and watching on my computer, the film of my last visit...which they love.

We say our goodbyes, conscious that with another 6 hours drive ahead of us, we will not reach Kabul before nightfall.

Quite a few days for Matthew—who only arrived after 24 hour flight from London yesterday, played in the Kabul Cup and then travelled to the remotest parts of Afghanistan to touch it with cricket!

As we come back into Kabul, there is a dust storm and the winds sweep across the Shomali plain. The distant hills come alive with light as the lightning strikes to the East. Tiny stalls line the route with little swinging lamps and the streets are alive and full of stall holders selling their wares. A car with a bemused looking goat strapped to the roof overtakes us. Ungainly wedding halls are lit up like great ships in the night and as we drive through this scene of a chaotic evening, which is so vibrant...Ali tells us how it was under the Taliban...with no electricity, no music, no thriving businesses, no joy.

But we have seen so much joy today and perhaps we may one day see an Afghan cricketer who heralded from Sang Boran and was inspired by some English cricketer who chanced to call at his school!

Friday May 1st

2009-05-01T14:38:00.005Z

Pictures have arrived! Paula

Amazing day ...left far too early at 5am and fantastic views throughout journey especially of Hindu Kush as we crossed Salang ...so clear we could see for miles. But also very hard on the back as have done so many miles! 8 hours later rocked up In Kabul and raced straight off to ISAF where the Ditchling Cricket Team were playing the Afghan National team in the Kabul Cup - a truly eccentric event .... first started when the Afghan team visited Ditchling a few years back and beat them and this is the return match.

I arrived at ISAF and walked through the barriers and was given a charming Macedonian soldier armed with machine gun to escort me to the cricket. Bizarre walk through an Afghan bazaar which is especially set up for the Forces. All the soldiers walking around and shopping. Then arrived at the cricket pitch and could have been anywhere in the world. A stand had been set up and it was full of journalists, BBC, ITN ...you name it! Also just happen to be 8 Old Etonians working in Kabul—most as journalists. The Guardian gave me an interview, the Times/Telegraph/Mail ...all there to cover this extraordinary event. It has already been on Radio 4 this morning and will be on ITN tonight. Lovely to meet up with Matthew Fleming, former Captain of Kent and England player who has helped us get all our funding from MCC and will accompany me from now on.

Needless to say the Afghans thrashed Ditchling in a very good natured match with a marvellous and very biased Afghan commentator. At the end an Afghan blowing an instrument and his friend playing the drums were serenading the players in sheer delight and then one of the English cricketers got out his bugle and the two of them had a competition to serenade their team...all great fun. The cup was presented and the Afghans whooped with joy at yet another victory over the British! All the Afghan team came to greet me. The British Ambassador talked to us for ages and promised to help AC with any of our work.

Then the blue skies vanished and a massive storm cloud approached. The wind got up and the skies went black and thunder and lightening crashed across the area. All the tents from the bazaar went flying into the air, the barbeque tent was torn from its pegs and collapsed on all the food, swirls of dust blew plates and food into the air and people dashed for cover as the rain poured down...a dramatic end to this extraordinary event!

Off to the Gandermack tonight for a celebration with the team and then another massive journey tomorrow to Sang Boran school.

Thursday 30th April

2009-05-01T12:39:00.017Z

Sarah has sent so many great pictures I couldn't resist adding as many in as possible ! See 29th April for picture of boys playing cricket. Paula

Another glorious morning and up at 5am. Invited for breakfast with Ramanullah—an Afghan lady I had met in Sweden…. so we all went to her home very early. In the courtyard plates of fresh fruits and nuts, naan breads straight from the oven, eggs, cakes, cheeses, dried fruit and sweet green tea was laid out. It was all brought in to us as we sat down in a carpeted room and met Ramanullah and her 5 daughters. Had a wonderful time in this gaggle of women.

Raced on to Kunduz and to the RAD Centre for deaf and cerebral palsied kids. Incredible welcome with children throwing themselves into my arms, gesticulating wildly in sign language and kissing me. They are so affectionate and I have come to know them so well. Gave them all the presents from Arbour Vale kids …lovingly made by these very special children in the UK who are excluded from main stream education and, like these Afghan children are incredibly affectionate and giving and love preparing things for me to take to Afghanistan. This time T shirts for the boys with cricket pictures painted on them and scarves for the girls with messages in their own script ….they are thrilled. So sad to tear ourselves away as we usually manage a much longer visit. Sad farewells and promises to return.

Speed away back to Taloqan falling asleep and crashing my head at every bump. Arrive at the Taloqan centre for deaf and blind students, run by SCA and twinned recently to The Mary Hare School in Newbury. A lovely little school with amazing teachers awaits us …they are so dedicated and teach all the families and friends of the deaf students,to sign language…so they are no longer isolated in their communities. They study the mainstream curriculum and aim for university—it is a unique place here in Afghanistan. They teach the blind children braile.

We meet all the children and tell them about their new link school and present them with a stunning wall hanging made by the children at Mary Hare. They are so happy and stand up one at a time to give messages …which are translated back to us from sign to English and we will carry home with us.

Then on to Sari Sang School –twinned with St Catherines. Took a class of 70 girls aged 16-18 and gave a talk on the Millennium Development Goals, illustrated with lots of slides. Was fascinating to have their comments on these MDGs. They had never heard about them ...the 9 goals created by the global community in 2000 aiming for an end to poverty and hunger, primary education for all ,reduction in child and maternal mortality, gender issues..equality for men and women/womens rights/ security, and others by 2015 and by 2020 in Afghanistan.

They discussed why Afghanistan has problems with these issues ...how many of the village women die in childbirth because there is no clinic near by, how poor security is the main barrier to achieving all of these goals by 2020 in Afghanistan, how some parents still wont let their children be educated because of economic reasons, security and tradition ...but they also described the positives - the fact that so many more children are coming to school, that they have some chance now to go on to become teachers and doctors and to serve their communities.

When asked for three things they valued most it was health, school and family and when asked what one thing would change their lives for the better they all said a road - a tarmac road would enable them to get agricultural produce to the markets, women to medical care, students to further education .....and when asked what order they would place the goals in in terms of importance to them they put security first and gender last ....so a fascinating insight and a very good lesson into how we should take more notice of what is needed and wanted rather than what we think the Afghans want.

Wednesday 29th April

2009-04-30T13:14:00.013Z

Sarah has sent me her blog for Wednesday and Tuesday afternoon (scroll down to see). Paula

Woke up to sunshine! Absolutely beautiful morning, floodwaters dried up and away we went to Worsaj. The clearest skies and the Anjoman pass and surrounding mountains covered in snow. Always a specatacular journey and so good to be back. The air incredibly clear and scented with fresh mint and thyme.

4 hours down very bumpy tracks carving its way down the valley by the river...everything so green from the rain and above the fields, the harsh black of the rocks and then the snow line. Along our way we passed shepherds with flocks of sheep round every bend of the road, donkeys with striped saddle bags piled high with yellow rape, young boys with baby calves and girls in stunning bright coloured shalois chamise in reds and purples carrying vats of water. Oxen pulling ploughs, tiny mud bricked villages perched precariously on the mountainside, Kucho nomads drying their colourful carpets in the sun, fishermen casting their lines or nets..... it is like going back in time.

Passed 3 of our schools and finally arrived at Zouhruddin, where, as ever, received the most overwhelming welcome. So many familiar faces and such heartfelt greetings. Kids everywhere throwing confetti and handing us bunches of flowers and kissing us and putting garlands of flowers over our heads. School looks amazing and nearly finished.

Went to classrooms and visited all kids as they all wanted to see us and give us presents. Fascinating time asking them questions about their lives and dreams ...22 of them got to university last year and 35 from the boys school—just incredible ...not a single girl has a literate mother. Most want to become doctors. Speak so eloquently and many in English. They are aware of the girls in Kandahar who had acid thrown in their faces for walking to school, and the schools which have been burned down or closed...they are determined to complete their education and believe it should be a right for all children to go to school.

Sayed Oberdin is a splendid man who was a commander against the Russians and has spent his time since then fighting to get girls educated in his village...his daughter was the first girl in the province to attend university. He comes up and announces that he has kept his promise to me....I said I would only build a school wall if they let the girls do sport.....and sure enough he has put up our volley ball nets and taught them to play. We all go outside and are given a demonstration match, watched by all the school. So great to see them play and marvellous to watch Sayed Oberdin darting amongst them giving them lessons in throwing... such a change to see a man among the girls helping them .

They show me science lab, computer room...to which they have brought electricity - microhydro electric power, themselves, and library...all immaculately kept. Fantastic school!

We are given fresh trout from the river and a plate of tiny birds...their heads still on ....to eat for lunch.........never had this before!! The lead teacher demonstrated how to eat them and bit the head right off the tiny bird with a great crunch!

Then on to a second lunch in a teachers house... .amazing little home with a wooden courtyard and outside bread oven and fire for cooking. We sat with all the girls of the family and the men ate next door...wonderful relaxed lunch ...

Then time to head off and many fond farewells. I am going to try and plan a trek here to raise funds... the villagers say the mountains are spectacular and they will be our guides.

Visit the boys school on the way back. Introduce cricket....with bats donated by Fairstead Trust...have a wonderful time coaching the kids. One of their teachers was a refugee in Pakistan and a great cricket enthusiast and wants to introduce to the school.

Saw the new building going up by the river and looked at all the kids in tents and huddled in wooden classrooms which usually serve as stalls in the bazaar and think that next time they will be in a new school thanks to one of our fantastic donors.

Such a positive day and as we rattle back and crunch along the rocky track home, we are all so happy and feel once again that we have seen such a very positive side of life here and find it hard to believe that in other parts of the country things are so awful.

Get a message to say that 8 people including ISAF have been in an explosion in Ali Abad—that beautiful place we passed through on our way from Kabul.

28th April - the afternoon

2009-04-30T13:04:00.002Z

Spent the afternoon filming for the project. Followed Fiona Gall and her team to the disability centre where we saw 3 patients and interviewed their parents. So sad, such severe disabilities. First was a woman who had an 18 month old baby with a syndrome which has left her unable to walk or sit up alone. The mother has already lost two babies in childbirth. They live 2 hours walk from the nearest clinic and many of the women in her village die in labour, unable to reach medical help. She is hoping that John Fixssen-an Orthopaedic surgeon recently retired from Great Ormond Street, who is visiting, will provide some miracle cure for her child.

Second is an older mother with a 10 year old girl with cerebral palsy. She has a beautiful face. She will never walk and will be dependent on her family always.

The last is a young boy with his father and brother. He sits with his arms and legs out rigid, his mouth held open at all times. He became jaundiced while he was a school boy in 6th grade and suffered terrible brain damage as a result. His father is very poor and runs a stall selling second hand things in the bazaar. The boy’s brother is his carer. He does everything for him and is the most loving and gracious child—his arm protectively around his brother at all times, he carries him or helps him to move by holding him around the waist and propelling him forwards. He washes him and takes him to the loo, feeds him and apart from his 4 hours schooling each day is constantly at his side. The only thing that can be done to help this boy is to give him a wheelchair, made locally and suitable for the harsh environment ....and something that will give him much more freedom and help his carer. 3 cameos of life, very moving and incredibly humbling.

We move on to the Taloqan District Hospital to meet a doctor who will give us an interview about healthcare in Afghanistan and show us around the hospital. I brace myself for the worst—Afghan hospitals I have visited in the past have been the most harrowing and deeply upsetting places to visit, filthy and full of despair and smelling of death and urine. Human misery at its most manifest.

This hospital couldn’t have been more of a surprise and shows what can be done. It is run by a wonderful man who fled to Holland during the worst of the fighting. He continued his medical training and work there and then decided to return to his country and play a part in its redevelopment. He gave us a very eloquent and fascinating interview, discussing all the problems related to health care in Afghanistan—the relentless years of war, the huge distances to clinics and hospitals, the appalling roads and transport, the economic problems, the lack of infrastructure and capacity, lack of qualified doctors, restrictions on women seeing male doctors, shortage of female doctors, poor security—with doctors and clinic workers being murdered and facilities burned down and so much more.......But he also offered great ideas for improving the system and examples of what has already been achieved.

He showed us around his immaculate hospital which would shame any NHS facility by its cleanliness. We saw the neonatal unit, the operating theatre, the obstetric unit. All very basic, but clean and functional. Then onto the malnutrition unit...where starvation and disease are still manifesting themselves in tiny wasted bodies with huge empty eyes. It is shocking to see and deeply disturbing, but at least we know that these children are now in capable hands in a clean and safe environment and most will get better.

He is a remarkable man and this is a remarkable hospital and a symbol of true hope...like those schools we saw yesterday, it shows that with determination and commitment, things can improve...these are the success stories about which we never read.

Tuesday 28th April

2009-04-28T09:59:00.009Z

Sarah's posting for today is below... she has also sent some picures of Sunday's journey, scroll down to see. Paula

Torrential rain all night pelting against the tin roof, gushing down the pipes, a bleak reminder that our travels are in jeopardy. Not one to give up, rise at 5 and prepare for the day ahead! Pack blankets, food and water and set out for Worsaj, rain still cascading down from threatening skies. The bazaar is awash with mud, carts struggle through the sludge, women in sodden burkhas, bowed down and bedraggled, weave their way through the chaos of the morning.

Through the steamed up windows of our car, I see traffic at a standstill ahead. I get out and survey a scene of devastation. The road has become a river. From the hills a frantic torrent of mud stained water is racing down and across the road and is depositing rocks, silt, mud and boulders at its will. Cars and lorries are stuck in the debris and people are picking their way over large stones to cross to the other side. A man in striped Badakshani coat and drenched turban, leads his burkha-clad wife carefully across the floods. Men line up to push a stranded vehicle out of its abandoned position, its wheels spinning and sending muddy waters spraying into the rain-soaked air. It is hopeless. Our journey aborts just minutes from home and Worsaj will not be reached...so utterly disappointing.

You cannot hurry Afghanistan. Plans can never be set in stone and my Western approach of trying to jam everything into a short visit is proved stupid! So many times I manage it ....but this time it is not to be. In fact, we will be lucky to get back to Kabul if the rains continue like this, let alone manage all our school visits. So we will sit and wait and watch and hope!

FORCED INTO PATIENCE BY THE ELEMENTS!

Monday 27th April

2009-04-27T14:13:00.010Z

In a hurry - so excuse clipped writing...

We left Taloqan at dawn and headed across the hills to Keshem. Massive reforestation is occuring and thanks to the rain everything so green. Wild roses growing everywhere and spectacular views of hills and villages and the distant Hindu Kush. But the rain continues and the mud swamps all the towns and villages. We arrive at Jari Shah Baba--with its new classrooms funded by Equitable and Eureka Trusts, looking wonderful and protecting the girls from the elements--if not for our classrooms they would be outside in the mud in atrocious conditions.

A wonderful welcome and the best news of all is that we watch a volleyball match - the first time I have ever seen girls play sport in Afghanistan...the whole school comes outside to watch. Great court and net funded by the UK twin school The Holt. This school is a real message of hope in the region and one of the best I have seen... with science lab, excellent library and computer room all up and running. A far cry from a few years back when most in tents. We visit the classrooms and deliver twin school letters and projects before fond farewells and off to the next school.

Mashad is a Girls' school for 2500 girls in Keshem centre. Last year I saw the majority of these girls studying outside on the grass. This year, mud everywhere and the girls all huddled into our 20 new classrooms funded by David Chislett ..... they are not painted yet but due to the weather, all the girls are sheltering inside and are so grateful to us for the new buildings and so happy - they send us special thanks from their parents too. We interview 2 girls aged 14 and they are an inspiration. If there are children like these, studying in these schools, then Afghanistan must surely have a better future. They are polite, determined, eloquent and bright and so well disciplined. Remarkable interviews and make all the hard work to find funding so worthwhile.

Back to Taloquan and the rain still falling may stop us venturing down distant valleys tomorrow. We intend going to Worsaj village where we will stay with the locals in their homes and visit the schools for 2 days...it is a wonderful place and they have been asking us to stay with them for so long ... will be an amazing experience if we get there. Meanwhile Fiona and Eleanor Gall and their team of orthopods and physios have turned up and we will all share a room tonight in an overloaded guest house!

Sunday 26th April

2009-04-27T13:14:00.003Z

Good news - Sarah managed brief email contact...

Sitting in Taloqan with Leslie, Canadian journalist, Lucy, German documentary maker, Olympia, Slovakian twin project leader, and Kamawi, Afghan Twin sShool Coordinator...a cosmopolitan team and all light years younger than me! We have been sitting in the dark as no electricity but now have a few hours of generator power. No hot or running water ...just a bucket of cold water that somehow doesn’t appeal even after our 8 hour journey from Kabul to the North.

We travelled up through the Salang Pass and its 3000 metre tunnel, Hindu Kush still snow clad from the winter. Then through the rolling hills of Ali Abad—never so green as now due to the best rainfall in years. Never manage to describe these hills ...but try to imagine someone has emptied thousands of cushions from the sky and layered them with swathes of velvet in every shade of green, brown, and red. Nestled amongst them are mud bricked villages and tall poplars and the foreground is a mass of wild flowers—vermillion poppies, purple and yellow thymes .. and a beautiful scent of spring. And the river runs through it.

Security has tightened and we are not allowed to stop, as in the past, to sample kebabs and naan on the river bank, or search the bustling bazaars for dried fruits and mangoes.

Our plans must all change for our school visits as there is a celebration day on Tuesday—Mujahideen Day...commemorating the withdrawal of the Russians in 1992- and all the schools are closed and the cities are deemed dangerous for expats. So we have a delightful plan to visit Kishem and its 2 schools tomorrow (Monday) and then Tuesday will head off for 2 days in the remote and beautiful Worsaj, in my favourite valley, in the foothills of the Hindu Kush, where we have built 4 schools. They have begged us to stay in their villages for years and now we will. It will be an amazing experience staying in their homes and then we will visit the schools when they reopen on Wednesday. So no communication for a while.

Monday 27th April

2009-04-27T07:55:00.002Z

Sarah has sent me a text to say that all is well, but due to a public holiday the travel plans have been changed.....

She will travel to Mashad on Sunday and visit Jari Shah Baba today (Monday). On Tuesday she will travel to Zouhruddin, stay in the village overnight and visit the school the following day (Wednesday).

On Thursday she will visit CRDC Taloquan (newly twinned with Mary Hare) and RAD Kunduz, (twinned with Arbour Vale).
She will also try to visit Sari Sang.

Communication is likely to be restricted to text for the next few days, so the earliest I will be able to update the blog with pictures and text will be Wednesday.

I will post any other news as soon as I get it ..... Paula

Friday 24th April

2009-04-25T09:42:00.013Z

Sarah's first posting is below..... Paula

Once again find myself sitting at Dubai Terminal 2 awaiting flight to Kabul, UK time 0238! Those long haul flights seem cruelly designed to hold you confined in a tube, unable to escape an unhealthy inundation of thoughts and for some reason I always feel forced to assess my life as I travel the time zones alone ...and isn’t always comfortable!

As I take off from Heathrow a fight breaks out between a man and woman beside me...they have been but 2 minutes in the air and have never met before, but exchange vile language and tempers boil up and explode about the angle of a seat.......and I think perhaps it is not so surprising that wars break out ....

Dubai still holds its bleak record for me of being the loneliest place on the planet....teaming with people from every nation and yet as empty at heart as anywhere. Millions of people in transit ,a collision of cultures , thousands of lost souls like busy ants, saving money to send home to dependent relatives across the world. One giant sacrifice, severed from homelands and families so far away.

An “interesting “stop over hotel....I now know why it was so much cheaper than all other hotels I could find!! Arrived v late and walked into a bizarre atmosphere—no women, music blaring from all corners of the hotel. To pay my bill, I was led along seedy corridors and into a darkened room. A woman in a canary coloured sari was singing on a dimly lit stage and behind her ,like startled birds, a row of Indian women huddled against the wall .Adorned in gaudy saris , faces painted like Russian dolls, lined up like plastic targets at a fairground –barely out of childhood, they stood exposed to the tables of leering men. Into this scene, I was led, right in front of the stage, to the corner of the room and a bar where they dug out a credit card machine which failed to operate. And so was led back to Reception where I had to part with precious cash , my mind lingering on the fate of those poor young girls. Firmly chained my door and snatched 2 hours sleep which was cruelly punctuated by the fire alarm going off as someone lit up in the lift!

Now safe in Kabul and so wonderful to be back. As I put first steps on the tarmac I always stop and look around me at the mountains of Kabul. Hamid here at the compound , an ever faithful friend ,and greets me with a cup of green tea with cardammon and an irrepressible smile.

Extra Photos - 28th October

2008-10-27T12:58:00.005Z

Some extra pictures - even of Home Farm's Wellington Bear have been added from 18th onwards - please scan down to each blog entry to see them....

23rd October

2008-10-24T06:59:00.004Z

As we waited for our Paktek flight, the German PRT arrived at the airport to see off one of their planes. Great big hostile armour protected vehicles with guns mounted aloft ,stood just ahead of us. The men wore army uniforms and bullet proof vests and were heavily armed and I suddenly thought how bizarre it all is....there were we, totally unprotected and caught up in this little episode.
War and Peace - the tale of our visit to Afghanistan....so much love has been in evidence—the school kids, the teachers, the communities, drivers and guards we have known for years and of course, Gul Noor......then the murder of the girl in Kabul, the suicide bomb in Kunduz, the shooting dead by the Taliban of the education officer in Wardak.

The flight home brings us through the clearest skies and the view of the Hindu Kush is magnificent and spell binding until we are hit by turbulence just short of Kabul and in our little 8 seater I feel like a butterfly in a washing machine and grip the seat for dear life!

On arrival in Kabul, we took the vehicles to Camp Kaia—the military base at the airport. There we waited for our contact, sitting in our cars, surrounded by barbed wire and watch towers and high security. He came out and there were all our cricket bags and computers—fantastic! Unbelievably generous of them to have flown them out and we would never have succeeded without them.

Back in Kabul,we are guests of Rory Stewart’s at The Turquoise Mountain. The fort is lit by candles outside and looks idyllic. In total contrast with the North, we walk through the door,to be greeted by Rory and a large gin and tonic...which goes straight to my head after my 5 essential days of detox. The place is buzzing with interesting people. David and Lucy Tang have just flown in with Rory,General Riley is there and members of TMF.

For dinner, we climb up into the tower of the old fort and sit on the floor looking out on the lights of Kabul city. David Tang tells us wonderful tales of famous people and then goes on to discuss the market crash and the whole evening seems surreal. Rory is generous with his time and looks after us beautifully. This is a world of contrasts.

The Afghan team collected the cricket bag this morning and made plans for the training camps.the rest of the cricket gear is heading off to the schools. The computers from St Catherines are heading North to Sari Sang and I am in transit once again in Dubai.

When I was in Kabul airport, I sat next to a delightful black American helicopter mechanic,who hadn’t seen his 4 children since his last visit home in May. He has been in Afghanistan all that time.....yet he hasn’t met a single Afghan. He is shocked that I have been out in the field without armed security. He asks me a few questions about the Afghans....are they all really cruel to their women, are they all homosexual and other similar questions---he has heard that this is how all Afghans are ....and I just think, no wonder there is so much misunderstanding and hatred and ignorance out here when perceptions are so blinkered.

Now about to head out of this hideous transit and board my plane home ....another inspiring visit, no money in the bank account but so much to do! In Shah Allah, we will find funding as we always(somehow)have and keep going with our work ...

22nd October - Kunduz RAD

2008-10-23T07:46:00.006Z

Kunduz Rehabilitation for Afghans with Disabilities Centre - always my favourite school in Afghanistan. About 30 of the 45 students are deaf and the rest are mentally disabled or have special needs. They throw themselves into my arms and I am immersed in a mass of little bodies, all kissing me and hugging me and frantically signalling in sign language. It is humbling and emotional coming here and always leaves its mark as one of those very special places. The children are so disadvantaged and yet give so utterly. The teachers are gentle and dedicated and always greet us very warmly. One lives in Fakhar, near the valley where we have built 4 schools and says that everyone knows and supports our work.

We spend a wonderful morning with these children. We have brought sweets, biscuits and drinks with us for a party and blown up lots of balloons for the kids. We hand out all the cards and gifts from Arbour Vale Special Needs School and they are thrilled. The children here have made a beautiful wall hanging for us to take back to Arbour Vale.

I have bought a TV and video set for them so that they can watch special DVDs and teaching aids. We put up the film I took when I was last here and have the most wonderfulo hour sitting amongst the children, watching the sheer delight and joy as they watch themselves on the screen. It is such a happy hour for us all.

We go outside and join the boys and girls in their separate volley ball matches. We bought the equipment and shirts and track suits for them all on our last visit and they have looked after everything beautifully.

A feast is prepared for our lunch before it is time to say goodbye. This is always emotional and as the children climb on to the bus they cling to my hand and kiss me and hug me and beg me to take them with me back to England. They all lean out of the bus as they wave frantically goodbye and we finish our life changing visit to the North of Afghanistan....and one which has been truly inspiring and has made me even more determined to help these people.

21st October

2008-10-23T07:43:00.004Z

This is such a complex place. Yesterday I saw the hospitality of the Afghans, we witnessed the desire for peace and education and such hope for a better future...we saw everything you would want to see to encourage you to believe that there really is hope for these people after the years of war.

Today I have heard that a young South African girl was gunned down in Kabul and killed by 2 men on a motorbike.It is heart breaking for everyone. In Sari Sang High School today, I asked the girls what they watch on television. They said they had stopped watching the news because all they hear about are explosions and death and fighting. It terrifies them. Their lives have been blighted by war. They missed 3 years of school when they fled as refugees and they fear that if the situation deteriorates their fragile stability and hope for a better future will be shattered once again.

A suicide bomb went off here yesterday and killed 2 German soldiers and 5 children. Yet as we walk around the classrooms and see girls studying in computer classes and discussing their lives with such intelligence and integrity,it seems this problem is thousands of miles from here. We spend hours talking with the grade 12 students. They are determined to get to University and become doctors and teachers and engineers to serve their country...but in reality, places at University are scarce, they need a male relative to accompany them and some of them are already married before leaving school.

Their twin school St Catherines, has sent them Geography and language field trip studies and the girls are enthralled by the photos of Spain and Iceland and the coasts of England and love all the pictures. Many of them can speak a little English. They also sent them cards and letters and the girls read them out and will write back individually to their new pen friends.

If only peace can hold and they can have the lives they so deserve and finish their studies and start the wheel of progress running ...these girls are fantastic and with enough of them being educated there could be such a wonderful new generation to replace the lost generations of professional, qualified Afghans.

20th October

2008-10-22T07:47:00.004Z

Today in a very distant valley I was told that there is an Afghan saying, that those who work in education and help others to have an education are the luckiest people on the earth .....and that is how I feel tonight. It has been an extraordinary day.

We head off for my favourite valley beyond Takhar and towards the great Anjoman Pass, which crosses the Hindu Kush. It is a 4 hour journey along a track which takes you through the most spectacular and dramatic scenery, through massive gorges, beside a clear green river, through villages, mountains and fields, which from above, newly harvested and ploughed look like one massive quilt of contours and colours.

We go to Wahdat and stop at the school that Afghan Connection built with The Angus Lawson Memorial Trust. The boys are just arriving as we get there and it is wonderful to see the school swing into action. There are over 600 boys in the school.
We pass another AC built school on our way to Zouhruddin -Ledgei school, which houses 700 kids from the villages in the mountains around.

Zouhruddin Girls School is a school for over 1000 girls and we have funded 20 classrooms. The first block of 10 is completed and painted and looks amazing. The second block is underway. The latrines and outside wall are finished. As we draw up outside all the teachers are waiting for us. We have a warm greeting and are taken inside and then - whoos! the corridors come alive and the children swarm from all directions to greet me. There is clapping and cheering and the students rush up and put garlands around me and hand me flowers and throw glitter and confetti over me and virtually lift me off my feet. It is impossible to describe the noise and the screams of delight and the hands coming out to us and the colours of the garlands and flowers and the volumes of them so great that I had to keep passing them to teachers to hold. It was just overwhelming. Jane and I were presented with chalois chamise in bright pinks and blues to wear and we then went to the staff room to meet the Governor of Takhar who had cancelled all his meetings to see us. There followed a series of speeches, all of which said that I was now a true Afghan and would be in all the hearts of all the villagers for generations. They say that I have kept my promises unlike so many others and now there are 4 schools in the valley which we have assisted.

We are whisked off to the boys school where lines of children stand to greet us and again the clapping starts and as we walk down the path lined with children, they put garlands over our heads, shower us again with confetti and give us more flowers. We are building a new classroom block here, thanks to a donor who came to see the school in the Spring, and the boys are thrilled. More speeches and then back to the girls school.

This time there is a stampede in the corridor as all the younger children break line and surround us as they try to shower us with the confetti and garland us and bunch us....I am totally swamped by flowers and am terrified the children will be crushed as the whole corridor is jammed with children. All so emotional.

We show the girls the film we took of them last time and then hand out all the gifts from the Twin school. They stand up and thank us in English and some sing a thank you poem.

Then off up into the hills for lunch in the Headmasters house. We walk up the river and through the fields and the tiny paths to the village, go through a wooden door and enter a courtyard full of apple trees and roses and overlooking the entire valley....including the school below. Jane and I sit with the women and the boys go in the room next door for their lunch - always awful being separated from the men as it means we have to eat far more - and today there was a mass of mutton, rice, salads, yoghurts, bread, curry and fish caught fresh from the river and no saying no to seconds and thirds. The generosity of these people is unfailing.

We say our goodbyes and the children rush out of the school to wave goodbye - next time we will come and stay in the village.We have promised we will and as I watch all the glitter and confetti fall off my clothes this evening,I know that I would be well looked after and could stay very happily with those people and would be safe.

19th October

2008-10-22T07:36:00.005Z

The most wonderful day and one to inspire me - just wish people could see what we saw today and meet the Afghans who showed us such magnificent hospitality. It makes everything so worthwhile. We left at 6.30 and headed for Keshem, Badakshan. It used to take 4-5 hours,but with the new road we manage the journey in just over an hour. It takes you up into the dusty heights and out towards the Hindu Kush.We stop in Keshem bazaar to buy sewing machines for the school.

Jari Shah Baba is a school for 1250 girls, grades 1-12 half an hour down a dusty track from the beautiful city of Keshem. The track takes you through the adobe walled villages of Keshem district and is lined by water channels and poplar trees. With the snow capped mountains ahead of us, we make our way to the school. We pass the timeless activities of harvest and watch men,women and children casting the husks of wheat into the dusty air. Donkeys heads protrude ridiculously beneath huge thatches of hay, their bodies immersed, so that from behind it looks as if haystacks are trotting down the track.

Our greeting is splendid. Hundreds of girls are chanting beneath the trees, all our old friends are there to see us. We spend the morning handing out letters and cards form the twin school —The Holt— and giving the girls presents. We hold a ceremony to hand out the equipment – requested specifically by the students. They have asked for sewing machines for their tailoring lessons and cookery equipment so that instead of learning cooking from text books they can have demonstrations and cook themselves.

Also, teaching aids in Geography and History are coming from Kabul as well as Geometry sets. They desperately want more computers and to be helped to attach the school to the micro hydroelectric power in the village. I show them a film of their school that we took last visit and also slides of their gifts being handed to the UK students - its a wonderful sight watching masses of head-scarved girls staring at my computer screen and seeing these images and recognising themselves or their gifts arriving in England.

Outside I see our new buildings —funded by 2 donors, 6 large classrooms and 4 admin rooms and a surrounding wall, well and games pitch under construction and to be completed by the spring —then all the kids will be out of tents and from under the trees and into classrooms at last.

In the afternoon, we visit Mashad Girls School—a school for 2500 girls in Keshem centre. The eccentric, toothless, Nehru-hatted headmaster is there to greet us and clasps our hands and shakes them interminably whilst shouting welcome welcome welcome! Inside, I am presented with a beautiful tribal dress in pinks and silvers and told that I will be remembered for generations for building this school. The construction work is on going and we go and visit it.

There are few moments so rewarding as this - there are hundreds of workers in full action. Cement mixers, ropes, great tripods stretching into the sky to make a well, men working on bricklaying, cementing and plastering - just incredible and in total 19 rooms are under construction. It is also wonderful to think of the employment we have created, let alone these buildings which will mean that instead of being taught in 3 shifts, the girls will just have 2 shifts and therefore extra hours of education....and also they will all study indoors,whereas now there are 55 classes a day outside.

More girls will be allowed to school. I have a Walter Mitty moment and cant quite believe that we have instigated all this and managed to find a fantastic donor to fund it. I know in that moment too, that I don’t want to give this up.

We speed off up the most incredible off road route through desolate rocky, dusty, drought ridden land to visit a Community Based School, run by Swedish Committee. These schools – of which there are 300, are based in communities which are so far from the nearest school that the children remain uneducated. They are held outside or in Mosques and serve children of the villages aged 6-10.

In this desolate, poverty stricken area, we are greeted with great warmth by hundreds of villagers on our arrival. We are led through a wooden door in the Mosque wall, to the area within. This houses 160 children in 5 classes with 5 teachers. Some study in tiny rooms, huddled on the floor. Others sit under the trees or the open sky. We hand out gifts and balloons and the kids become totally overexcited. Everywhere we go we are surrounded by a mass of villagers. They have managed to set aside a plot of land to build a school. They are trying to get primary school status from the Ministry of Education and then they can extend the age group they can educate and want us to build a school.

They serve us tea and almonds outside and bring us melons and apples to take home. All the kids and villagers then take us off to the plot of land set aside for the school. The kids stand in a line where they need the school to be built, I take a photo of them standing there on that desolate hillside which could promise so much for their future - and say a little prayer that the next time i come they will be standing in front of a new school..........

Saturday 18th October

2008-10-21T06:49:00.007Z

Sitting in Taloqan, Northern Afghanistan, waiting for the sun to go down and the electricity to come on! I have been here so many times now, feel I know it very well. Flew up on the Paktek Beechcraft-8 seater. A journey of 13 hours in the past is reduced to 2 hours, but I miss arriving by road and crossing the great Salang Pass. Nevertheless, there is something exciting about taking off from Kabul airport in a tiny plane, flying over the warplanes and helicopters and up and over those idiosyncratic Afghan hills. Feel strangely vulnerable and insignificant in that small aircraft flying over such vast, uninhabited and hostile terrain. Then we land in Kunduz and step out into its dusty airfield to be greeted by “sarahfan”and drivers I have known for years...

Tried to call the children and managed to talk to all of them just before they set out to South Africa for their father’s wedding. But in one of those classic communications chaotic moments, I failed to hear what Antonia had lost....all I could here her repeat was that she had lost something and I was desperate to hear exactly what in case she needed it badly .....at last over the crackling airways, as my anxiety and her exasperation with me were escalating, I managed to hear the word “tooth” !!!

Sunday 19th October

2008-10-19T17:31:00.000Z

Sarah still travelling - will post news as soonas I get it! Paula

17th October market stalls, gardens and on to the hills!

2008-10-17T15:16:00.004Z

Friday in Kabul and everyone has a day off. The streets are lined with market stalls and Kabul is alive with people and donkeys and buses and colour. The Kabul river, which I saw so recently in flood, is now dry and thirsty.

Went to the Babur Gardens for an exhibition of Contemporary Iranian, Pakistani and Afghan art run by The Turquoise Mountain. It was held in the Harem palace overlooking the entire city of Kabul. Beneath the palace, all spectacularly restored and breathtakingly beautiful, lie the gardens of Babur - also lovingly restored and full of Afghans, sitting beside the glorious full bloom roses in magnificent bursts of colour, enjoying the gardens of Kabul as in the days of peace,which must seem so far in their past.

I wish that the world could see this - what can be done in Kabul and how life can be in Afghanistan. Their hertitage restored, hundreds of Afghans flock to these gardens and buildings today and visit the wonderful exhibition. It is almost more amazing and fulfilling to watch the Afghans at this exhibition and how they admire the art, than the art itself, which is stunning.

As we walk out of the exhibition,we walk through an arch which frames the Kabul hills, with their tapestry of mud houses climbing and clinging to the slopes and the clean blue sky above, dotted with kites. It is a scene depicting the might have been and the fragile possibility of what could be in the future and also the beauty of the present moment. We met some of the Turquoise Mountain staff and had fascinating conversation with them.

The afternoon was bizarre - had a meeting with Sophie Swire,who is an amazing woman who has built schools in Pakistan and run an import business in pashminas and also in cashmere spun in Nepal and has now set up a gem cutting woprkshop in Turquoise Mountains fort. Our meeting took place at the Serena Hotel - Kabul's top hotel which recently underwent a ghastly attack and expates and Afghans were killed. I have never been to somehwere so heavily fortified this 5 star luxury hotel with spa and gym ringed by concrete, metal, barbed wire and fear. Huge steel doors and barriers to cross and then you enter this haven of luxury and once again find it all so bizarre. Our meeting thoiugh was fascinating and we also met up with Sam Akexandroni, from the New Statesman, who will travel with us tomorrow.

Tonight we will meet and have supper with Catherine Day at the Embassy and then tomorrow, at last to the Hills!

16th October - cricket, crafts and red carpet!

2008-10-16T13:33:00.014Z

Pictures of School Consultants receiving gifts are also posted - scroll down to see! Here we see the Afghan Cricket Team and some of the beautiful work done by the potters at the Turquoise Mountain, Paula.

A great day and much achieved. Met up with Raess, from the Afghan cricket team. He had been man of the match in the finals in Tanzania when the Afghan team won the trophy.

Leslie Knott, who is making a film on the team (see www.outoftheashes.tv) had recommended that I contact him as he is determined to use cricket as a means to help the people of Afghanistan and has already organised cricket camps for kids in Northern Afghanistan.

He was born in Pakistan, where his parents were refugees. He grew up and saw the Pakistan team doing well in cricket and decided he wanted to be a great cricketer. He played in all the refugee camps in Pakistan and popularised tennis ball cricket. He remembers coming across the border back into Afghanistan in 2003 and being shocked at the devastation of his homeland and deciding he wanted to be a part of the rebuilding of his nation.

We met at the Intercontinental Hotel,which stands proud on the hills overlooking Kabul and was a bastion of the troubled years, often housing journalists during the Russian war. I remember seeing it in 2002 when the ceiling was coming down - now it has been done up and is pretentious and rather hideous and sterile-soul-less would describe it well! Outside the security is incredibly tight and at the door there is a large notice saying no guns allowed.

We discussed the possibility of arranging cricket training camps. Raess will get 6 members of the Afghan team to come to Jalalabad in the Spring and give coaching to 300 of our kids from our twin schools in that region. They will be supplied with clothes and cricket equipment and given coaching and play in matches. If it is a success we will plan other camps across Afghanistan on Peace Day 2009 and will also get all our Afghan, Swedish and UK schools to play cricket that day - a challenge in Sweden!! We will also fund cricket in as many schools as possible. We will try and harness these camps to health issues.

After our talk he took William and me up to the big celebration where hundreds had turned out in a large tent to celebrate the victory in Tanzania. Spivvy camera men packed the stage and dignitaries walked up the red carpet. I met up with the team, which I had met already in Dubai and they video recorded messages for Alex to thank him for his support. So,one step nearer our cricket goals.

We then had our meeting at The British Council. Security tight and so was a joy to sit out in beautiful manicured gardens with the British Council cat on my knee for discussions. Heard about the BC projects in twinning here and we discussed what we are doing, there are many avenues where we can cooperate and a very useful meeting.

Then off to The Turquoise Mountain foundation, where we had a tour. It is like entering a different world. From the chaos of Kabul and the streets choked with traffic and beggars,you enter a haven of peace and beauty and architectural delight. Crafted from the earth it seems, this beautiful early 19th century fort has been restored lovingly and the gardens are awash with roses, geraniums and vines. Peacocks strut across the lawns and Kabul seems a world away and instead you can imagine it as it was centuries back.

Met Sophie Swire who used to build schools in Pakistan and we have been trying to meet for years, so planned a meeting for tomorrow. Went round the workshops in calligraphy, woodwork and pottery. The pottery is based on the famous ceramics from Istalif — a beautiful hilltop town off the Shomali plain. When I visited 5 years ago I found a town — which was once famous as a retreat and picnic spot for Kabulis and lies on a river,totally destroyed - every building razed to the ground. The famous ceramic workshops had been destroyed too and since then Turquoise Mountain has been working to restore this craft to the region and apparently Istalif is slowly reemerging to its former glory.

It is wonderful to watch people so skilled in these crafts of pottery, woodwork and calligraphy—their work utterly beautiful.

Expat life in Kabul - 15h October (cont....)

2008-10-15T19:23:00.003Z

This evening William and I went out to a restaurant for supper. It is really quite extraordinary, the expat life here. You arrive at the restaurant and it is guarded by piles of sand bags and kalashinikov’d security guards in bullet proof vests. You knock on the door and a tiny window opens and you are inspected and let in to an inner room. There you are searched by armed security guards and then led to another door where another window opens and you are let in to another room before being let in to the restaurant.

Inside you find smoke filled rooms with bars serving any drink you care to have and French food is served at candlelit tables. There is a swimming pool out in the lanterned gardens, empty now for the winter, but just weeks ago any expat could come and swim here.

Just an hour away, you find roads blocked by the Taliban in Wardak and outside on the streets today our car was besieged by young street urchins, begging at our windows. I find it all very bizarre and long to leave Kabul and head for the North.

15th October - The bags arrive!

2008-10-15T17:49:00.007Z

Sarah spent a frustrating hour with poor and intermittent generator power and finally managed to get this to me - pictures have now arrived as well!

Today we had meetings at SCA offices on the notorious Jalalabad road, affectionately known as Suicide Alley. It is a road lined with military bases and often clogged with heavily armed military vehicles and tanks - a stark reminder of the battles being fought across the country. Sadly these peacekeeping forces in Kabul have been the target of suicide attacks and hence the name of the road. Most vehicles desperately try to avoid being holed up beside these military vehicles and in their panic stricken attempts to avoid them probably cause far more accidental casualties than the attacks themselves.

Today's meeting was to allow me to meet up with students and teachers from all the schools where poor security means I cannot visit. It was incredibly humbling. Some had travelled for hours to be here and had brought beautiful gifts for their UK twin schools. One group had been too afraid to bring the materials in case the Taliban stopped and searched their bus. Another group had taken a 7 hour detour to avoid Taliban road blocks in Wardak. But they were all determined to be here and we spent the day discussing problems and challenges in their schools, the security situation and the good things too - like new buildings, University graduates and the twin school links and what they mean to their children.

Some schools had been visited by the Taliban and subjects Like History and Geography had been bannned because The Taliban found they had been heavily criticised in the text books and wouldn't let them be used - there must be some compromise where their part of history can be played down until times are less sensitive - then at least the students can learn the rest of Geograpy and History.

I showed them our twin school film and they were very moved by that as they could see all the work we have done in Afghanistan and hadn't realised how much we had done - one man then wrote me a poem and read it out, thanking me for my courage in helping Afghanistan. Jane and I were presented with gold and silk tribal Afghan dresses, trousers and scarves, heavily embroidered and beaded and in beautiful colours. We had to wear them and caused much joy - and hilarity.

I gave out all the twin school gifts and cards - Schools twinned to St Gabriels, Brookfields, Moulsford, Elstree, Home Farm, Marshgate, Brighton & Hove, Guernsey Grammar, Ryeish Green, Ellingham and Churchdown were there and I handed over all the UK twin school gifts and just as they were about to leave for their provinces, my bags appeared from the airport like one massive miracle and everyone praised Allah and I handed out all the missing gifts JUST FANTASTIC!!!

14th October - Dinner at the British Embassy...

2008-10-15T17:43:00.002Z

Dinner at the British Embassy was fascinating. We were guests of the Ambassador and his wife, Sir Sherard and Lady Bridget Cowper-Coles. Also invited were the Head of the British Council, Catherine Day from the Embassy Press Office and Gemma from DFID.

William Reeve, one of Afghan Connection's Trustees, and on this visit with me, had known Bridget and Sherard since his Oxford days so it was all very relaxed and also a very interesting insight into what is happening across Afghanistan.

After dinner we sat in a room lined with photographs of Royals and politicians alike, Robin Cook, Gordon Brown, Prince Charles and others all graced the Kabul sideboard. As we sat, we were served the most delicious seeds from ruby red pomegranates sent from Hamid Karzai in person....quite the most delicious fruit I have ever tasted.