The Geography Blog focusing on all things geography: human, physical, technical, space, news, and geopolitics. Also known as Geographic Travels with Catholicgauze!
Written by a former National Geographic employee who also proudly served in Iraq and Afghanistan.
Nicholas A. Robertson: KIA 2 April 2008. Brave Patriot. Remembered in a Gym.
Whenever one walks on a Coalition military base in Afghanistan one is immersed in a military landscape. However, the landscape is not solely controlled by tanks, horahs, and rolling out on missions. There is another landscape that does not distract yet strangely complements the militaristic mindset of the warrior's universe in its own unique, somewhat covert way. It is a landscape of the fallen.
Many camps and places on bases are named after people. Camp Williams, Arnstead Hall, Cooper DFAC, etc. People will say things like "I am going to eat at Cooper" or "I live over at Williams." All these places are named after the fallen. It may take one a day or so to realize it, but all these named places have a plaque, mural, or photo dedicated to the person who's name graces building along with the date of the fallen's death.
When one talks about these places one does not always think of the fallen who's life was taken in the heat of battle, by the Taliban behind the door, or the IED along the road. However, even if for a brief moment, whenever one walks by the memorial one is reminded of the fallen, the fallen's sacrifice, and that one's own mortality is in play. Life does go on but the reminders of death await those who pass by. Much like it is outside in the wire in Afghanistan.
In between longer blog posts I plan to answer questions I receive about geography and Afghanistan. If you have a question you want asked feel free to comment, e-mail at catholicgauze [at] gmail [dot] com, or contact me via Twitter.
The first question I received comes from Dr. Robert Brinkmann. He asks via Twitter "how about some things we look at as sustainable practices here: energy, buying local, organic food etc. Interesting comparison"
Short Answer: No
Long Answer: Afghanistan has been in a state of war since 1979. As such much of Afghanistan's development has been set back decades if not more. People survive with what they can, not caring one iota if it is sustainable or not. In much of the Pasthun Belt (eastern and southern Afghanistan along the Pakistan border) there are whole districts that lack electricity. Some people use generators for short bursts of power at night but these people are in the minority. Most cooking is done via charcoal with gas being available at a somewhat high cost to urban dwellers. There have been some efforts to get rural people solar cookers but this is done because of limited energy, not because it is a green practice.
Buying local is not really an option. Most people get food staples like rice and naan bread from the bazaars (if they are not farmers themselves). Meat is available but it is not a daily dish. Because much of Afghanistan is about to experience the fifth year in a row of drought shipping in food staples is a must. USAID grain shipments and rice from Pakistan and India is feeding much of the country. Much of this is handed out by the government but the transit mafia has a large black market share of anything that is shipped to Afghanistan. Any potential inquiry by me into the transit mafia has been met with strong words advising me to change the line of questioning.
As for organic, from the short time I have talked to farmers I am sure they would use any sort of fertilizer that could give them enough crops to feed their families.
Coming up next: Smeeko's question on what Afghans want
Afghan shop owner to me as we were discussing his price for various flags: "Pakistan (pwfff), my grandfather is older than that country."
Pakistan's Independence: 1947 Afghanistan's Independence: Hard to say as parts of the country have been doing their own thing with only nominal outside oversight since historical records began.
This is one of the first photos I took in Afghanistan. It is of Pashtun Afghan children looking down on me from the walls of their qalat (mud, walled-compound) which the majority of rural Pashtuns live in. I got the feeling I was being watched not only by these children but by Afghanistan in general.
I am very busy most of the time; however, blogging has provided me with a nice mental outlet. If you have any suggestions for a blog post you want do dealing with Afghanistan please comment.
Note: While I had a great Christmas many in Afghanistan did not. I salute all who have and are serving.Remember groups like the USO which keep soldiers in touch with their families and spiritual groups like the Archdiocese for the Military Services, USA who serve deep needs (a priest just visited forces in Wardak who went over half a year without any chaplain of any faith).
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year from Afghanistan!
In a time where Palestinian Christians' celebrations are curbed, Indonesian services banned, and a Filipino mass bombed, I do not have much to complain about even though I am in Afghanistan. In fact, this Christmas was a bit of an adventure and much better than the one in Iraq (which involved a military chaplain inventing his own words for the Lord's prayer). So let me tell you about my Afghan/Polish/American Christmas.
Starting off Christmas Eve: Challenging Afghans with Guns
As noted earlier, one of the best ways to make friends in Afghanistan is with a rifle. I started off Christmas Eve by visiting the local Afghan National Police (ANP) shooting range. After a short introduction I challenged them to a rifle/pistol contest. The local Hazara and Tajik ANP take their weapon skills very seriously and eagerly arose to the occasion. They picked "Bashir" to be their champion against me. I held my own with the pistol. However, Bashir scored direct hit after direct hit with the rifle. In the end he easily pulled ahead and won the challenge. After congratulating Bashir and Afghan playful teasing against me, I was invited to their evening meal of goat and rice. Their meal served as sort of a Christmas party as they all wished me a "happy Christmas and good New Year."
Polish Mass: That Was a Party
Don't let the photo of the chapel fool you. It got so packed that any fire marshal would have shut down the mass if they knew.
I was able to attend midnight mass on a military base. However, the only mass within a 100 or so miles was in Polish so I knew I was in for a unique experience. I arrived early and sat next to another American, an Air Force medic. She and I quickly realized that we were among the only Americans in a room packed full of Poles. Another woman joined us, a "Polish Ann Chaplin" (PAC), who will become important soon.
So mass started and I could figure out what is being said because of Roman Catholic masses have the same order around the world. Or at least that is what I thought. After the gospel reading the tradition of love bread or oplatek occurred. PAC instructed me to take a large square wafer that was on a plate being passed around and break the wafer into two. I gave her one half and I kept the other. She then told me to break off a little bit of her's and eat it. I did. She wished me a Merry Christmas and broke off and ate a bit of my wafer. I explained to the American next to me what was going on to the best of my abilities. We then wished each other a Merry Christmas and ate a little bit of each other's wafer. What occurred next was fifteen minutes of the choir/band doing Polish Christmas songs with enough energy to power a small city while everyone shared their oplatek and wished each other a Merry Christmas.
Communion took over twenty minutes as everyone massed in line for the one priest to hand it out. Interestingly, all the Poles received it in the mouth (most Americans relieve it in hand and place it in the mouth themselves). The American medic was the only one to accept it in the hands. Meanwhile the Polish music group played even more energetic Polish Christmas songs. The mass marking the birth of Christ was truly a celebratory event.
The Christmas Meal: Lamb and Goat and Naan, Oh My!
As you can tell I did not suffer this Christmas
I managed to integrate myself and those working with me with some other Americans to make one big Christmas meal. A military officer managed to acquire a goat, a lamb, and several pounds of naan. After the goat and lamb were dispatched a barbecue began. Local Afghan charcoal was used to feed the barbecue fire. Needless to say the cooking took hours yet proved to be a good boding experience between various military and non-military personnel. Once the cooking was done I had the best lamb and naan I have ever had in my life. There was nothing like having hot food, good company, and a fire barrel.
Bringing Americana to Afghanistan: Carolers!
The eastern part of Afghanistan right now does put one in the Christmas spirit. The lack of snow, the sound of artillery firing, watching a vehicle burn after it was hit by an IED, and constant threats by the Taliban can put anyone in a funk. However, when driven into extreme situations people will join together to make life bearable. Case in point were these carolers who helped bring Christmas cheer to a small corner of Afghanistan. What a great way to end Christmas in Afghanistan.
As I get ready to actually do my job in Afghanistan I noticed that military personnel have doubts about whether geographers have the necessary skills to survive in Afghanistan (which is understandable). To put fears of incompetence to rest I decided to "battle zero" the rifle I was issued and show them how capable a shot I am. The BZ test adjusts a rifle's sights to each user so a shooter can actually hit the target. I went outside to a local range where I was all alone. In the process of battle zeroing the rifle fired off a magazine of thirty rounds. By the time I was finished another American showed up. Apparently it was a slow day for him and the sound of rifle fire at the range attracted him. We chatted about weapons when two Afghan National Police (ANP) officers appeared. They also heard the sound of the rifle and wanted to join me in shooting off rounds. I politely decline because I only brought one magazine with me. They presented another clip to me and told me to "put the rifle on fun." Taking that to mean fully automatic I reloaded and fired off thirty rounds in a series of burst at the target. The ANP then took turns pointing out targets on the range and trying their best to one up with each other. Another ANP officer appeared and joined in on the fun. After a few more rounds of this I had to head back. However, I made several new friends in the process and have been invited to shoot off more rounds whenever I want. I in turn promised to bring snacks as gifts to whoever wants to join me in a shooting competition. The rifle has proven to be a great way to make friends in Afghanistan.
I recently completed a tour of a section of Afghanistan while aboard a helicopter. The experience certainly was one of the most memorable of my life. It was also one of the coldest times of my life, too.
The cultural landscape itself demonstrates a sort of siege-mindset that has not been expressed in Europe since the Medieval-era and in the Americas since the early days of European colonization. The cultural landscape also reflect the strong bonds of family that exist in Afghanistan.
Every farm house I saw from the air was in its own walled compound. The mud buildings were along the inside of the wall leaving the center of the compound as an open air courtyard. In numerous courtyards I saw families mingling about going about their lives. Every village I saw was a collection of the these compounds placed close together. The locations of villages were mixed, some where on flat plains, otherwise near water, and still others were placed on hills overlooking the plains. Regardless of location, each compound/compound village felt like it was an island of safety in a sea of threats.
Only in cities did everyone not have a compound. The cities were packed with everything from mansions to shanties.
The trip was probably the coldest trip of my life. An Afghan winter is cold, especially when one factors in looking out an open window with the blades forcing a strong draft into the face.
My time in the air was tense, cold, but most of all fascinating. Sometimes one has to see the geography from above to know what is on the land.
