Hello everyone, Here's a two-part email. I gave up on the Internet yesterday, as it was not cooperating...so you get May 27 and 28 together.

It’s May 27, and the final call to prayer of the day has just begun, about 8:50 pm this time. The prayer is haunting (and, I have to admit, the mullah doesn’t exactly have perfect pitch) and lasts about five minutes. I’m hearing all this because my window is open…trying to get in some cooler air, which has been in very short supply today.

Technically this hotel has some air conditioning. I say technically because it has worked once, for about an hour, since we came here. The management shuts it off at night, around 11:00. Herat City is semi-famous for its breezes, but didn’t live up to its name today. Around 100 degrees, no breeze, clouds of dust. It will rain again in…December.

My work today was researching in the library. That’s where textbooks are stored as well as their small collection of reference and other books—about seven or eight shelves. A junior engineering instructor is also in charge of the library. He got me set up, gave me a tour; we talked about the digital library that is part of one of the grants but that hasn’t materialized yet. He said, “Insh’Allah” which literally means “if God wills it” but practically seems to mean, “I’ll believe it when I see it” or “I dunno,” depending on the context. It was a productive day for me, doing analyses of the reading level required for textbooks vs. the reading level acquired through the current ESL texts. Let’s say there’s a bit of a disconnect…and it’s going to be a real challenge to bridge the gap.

The “guys” as in the faculty and the dean are getting more comfortable with my presence and so are talking to me more (patience is a virtue). The hotel staff has loosened up enough to practice their English on me. Pronunciation is an issue—for example, there’s a choice of either green tea or black tea; they pronounce the latter “booh-lach tay.”

Took me a few tries to get that (as I’m trying to search my limited mental vocabulary. Boohlach. What the hell is boohlach? If I say yes, exactly what am I going to get for breakfast…?)

Also had a long conversation with several of the female students. They are thrilled to have a female professor wandering around. It’s kind of like having…groupies. Although they all wear head to toe chadors (usually black, some with a subtle pattern), they seem to hold their own in conversations with male professors—and they came right up to me and said, “Hi, let’s talk.” Well, actually, Fatima #1 said something in Dari to Fariba who in turn said something to Fatimah #2, who spoke to me.

They have lots of questions. They want to know how to read English better. They wonder what life is like in the West. They’re concerned that their engineering program is not as good as ones in the states. Finally Fatima (#1) asked the big question: “Why did you come here?” They clearly think that I’m a bit off in the head. I told them I liked their country and its people and wanted to help make their school better. They liked that. Guess I’m “in” because as they left, Fatima (#2) turned and said, “Goodbye, my dear friend.” Guess I’ll be having lots of visits from now on…good thing we stocked up today on sugar-coated chickpeas.

In answer to some of your questions: No, I can’t go out by myself. Nope. I’m ok around the campus (once I get past the guards) and inside the hotel, but that’s it. If I need something and my male colleague  is not available, I have to send one of the hotel staff. Male. I can get away with taking off my scarf in the deep recesses of the café while I’m checking my email, but that’s it.

Yes, there are still women here who wear the burqa, even some women at school. Other women wear the long chador, often with blue jeans underneath. Yet others wear a dark tunic and pants, with a short white scarf. This afternoon I saw a woman in a burqa, on the back of a motorbike. Underneath she had on hot pink pants and stiletto heels…so there you go—a place of contrasts. The only consistency seems to be that the head gear goes tight under the chin. Most women show some hair, but just a bit (except for the burqas). As I watch the different regional TV channels, I’m beginning to be able to tell women from different areas by the way they wear their scarves. My scarf arrangement pretty much says, “Yep, she’s from out of town.” The key is that I reasonably conform to “Muslim standards of modesty,” which I’m doing. Not a fashion plate, mind you, but a modest one.

Another interesting thing—people stare unabashedly at my gray hair. Reason—there ain’t many people here who have it. Living to 50 is a feat. My “tea man” as I call him looks about 70. In fact, he’s about 45 (one tooth). I have not seen any older women. None. So I guess I’m something new, so to speak. At the music store, the little boy’s expression clearly said, “Holy cow. She must be 135.” In Afghan years I guess I am.

Many, many (many) people ride motorbikes, a true death-defying feat. Not sure you need a license—just a willingness to risk your life—perhaps one reason for the lack of oldsters… A lot more ride bikes. Often see a father pedaling, his son a miniature copy of him, wearing skull cap and salwar kameez (long tunic and pants) and perched effortlessly on the back fender. The boy I saw today didn’t hold on, just placidly watched the traffic around him, as they made their way down the street. If there’s no passenger on the back fender, there may be a 30 lb sack of rice or a stack of bread.

Phase II of the email—it’s the morning of May 28. While my colleague is attending a USAID seminar on construction codes (sounds fascinating, eh?) I’m staying at the hotel and writing up stuff, doing some online research, etc. Also preparing a mini-proposal to get the literature people more involved as instructors in the engineering English classes. Like any university, there are turf issues and so we have to go carefully. Oh, and then we have to get someone to pay for it. Wish me luck.

Thanks much for your wonderful emails—they make my day.
Love to you all,
Beth

Discuss these notes from Afghanistan.

About the Author: Beth Richards is the Director of Rhetoric and Professional Writing at the University of Hartford. Responses and questions about her experiences and the program can be sent to her at This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it

Photo Credits: DariusMonsef, “Afghan Woman sitting beside her tea room” istockphoto.