Winter part three-the never ending story

Yesterday, I was sitting on cushions, with two heaters on, and I could still see my breath. There was no electricity, and our water had finally frozen. I hit rock bottom. I can't imagine how it must be for the Afghans who can never get warm. Our guard came in with a blow torch and heated our pipes for about 30 minutes, seemingly to no avail, but a couple of hours later, we suddenly had water again! Today we had running water and electricity the whole day! A blessing without precedent!

How do you walk with the poor when you are not one of them? This is the question I have been asking myself the past week, as things have gone from bad to worse. The Afghan people have made great strides in trying to move forward after generations of wars and tribal conflict. But, they hang by a precarious thread. They have a little now for basic survival, but there is still nothing in reserve. Any disaster can take them down, and that is what we are seeing now.

What does poor mean in this society? My friend and I went looking for the poor the other day. We have a fund set up in America to use to buy food, medical care, blankets and heating fuel for the poorest of the poor. There are many poor here, but there are some who are simply desperate. We asked local Afghans to introduce us to the people that they think are poor.

My friend's house helper picked out two families. We went to the first and saw a weird scene. It was almost like it had been set up. (Yes, there are people here who would scam a foreigner to get whatever they can). It was a concrete house (you really want to live in a mud house here, warmer in the winter and cooler in the summer). There was no heat what-so-ever. It was absolutely frigid! It was a widow, with nine other people in her house, including two healthy working age sons. Now, at the moment, it is difficult to get a job, but if you are desperate to eat, there are some things you can do. We asked what they needed, and they said everything, and the quantities that they asked for were huge. We looked around though, and there were two chickens in the yard, two bicycles, and a small generator. That doesn't sound like much from a western standpoint, but there are people now who are tearing up every scrap of wood they can find to heat their house, and their children are starving. This family was not that desperate. If they were, they could sell the generator, the bicycles, and they could eat the chickens.

We went to the next house. This family was different. There were two families living in two rooms of a house. In one room, there was a woman, her husband, who was disabled from kidney problems, and two children. The other room housed a widow, her daughter and several children. This is the room in which we sat. Two of the children sat in the coldest corner. One slept while the other looked at us with big haunted eyes. As we spoke with the woman, she said that she peels chickpeas for 20 afghanis a bag (40 cents). This will buy bread for her family, but not much else. Suddenly, a metallic cough rang out from the little girl, which went right through my bones, then the tell tale whoop during the intake of air, which indicates whooping cough. Yes, this family was hard up. We made a list of things to bring them, including antibiotics for the children.

The third family we visited was recommended to us by my house helper. There was an older woman, her son, his wife and their 1 1/2 year old daughter. The man was out, presumably looking for work. They lived in the basement of their landlord. It was about 14 feet by 7 feet. They owned nothing but a teapot and the clothes on their back. Their neighbors had loaned them a little gas bottle to cook on, and a carpet to keep the cold from seeping in through the dirt floor. They had just moved here from Bamian (the city with the ancient Buddha statues that the Taliban destroyed in 2001). We asked why they moved away from their qaom (relatives...all Afghans live in a neighborhood surrounded by family). They said they heard that it would be better in the city. I don't know what drove them to think this, but it was so strong, that they hitched a ride on a potato truck and sat on bags of frozen potatoes for probably two days of driving. They were desperately poor. We also made a list of things to bring them, including cushions for the floor, so they are not sleeping on the bare cold floor, one more blanket (two had already been donated), and some basic food necessities to get them through a few weeks. (Usually this includes flour, rice, kidney beans, and oil). We also ask neighbors to pitch in with what they can, a cooked meal, a bag of potatoes, an extra floor cushion... We cannot save Afghanistan, but if we work with the Afghans and show them that they can help their own country, it is a step forward. Hopefully in the process, we are alleviating some of the suffering.