[Previous entry: "Kandahar Chronicles #42 - 12/11/2003"] [Main Index] [Next entry: "Kandahar Chronicles #44 - 03/12/2003"]

11/14/2003: "Kandahar Chronicles #43 - 13/11/2003"

Bertein left Kandahar today, having completed her six-month contract, and is on her way to Holland via Turkmenistan. I was sad to see her go. We arrived here together in May, got the project running fairly smoothly again, sweated through the roasting summer heat, totalled hundreds of kilometres in land cruisers to and from the camp, dashed for cover after an explosion rocked our compound, started water rugby matches in another NGOs swimming pool, argued about meetings, picked raisons out our bowls of cereal and last week polished off a half bottle of Johnny Walker on the roof. She was good fun and a hard worker. I’ll miss her, she’s a good friend. Unfortunately, due to the sudden deterioration in the security situation, we had to cancel both a national staff and expat goodbye party for her. She did leave at a good time though with the security situation in the toilet and the nights getting progressively colder.

I said goodbye to her this morning and then I jumped into a Hilux with Vickie, our interim PC, who has come back from the London office for another turn at coordinating the project. Yacub, Dr. Maboob Shah and Sadiqulla, the driver, also came along for the hour drive to the camp. There wasn’t much time for reflection though as we had to be vigilant on the drive to Zhare Dasht. While other NGOs continue to operate in the camp, Vickie and I were the only two expats to make the trip today. It was quite uneventful and we soon got on with our tasks. She took off to Settlement 11 while I worked planning semi permanent structures with Jaweed. After an hour or so doing that, I asked Jaweed to accompany me to the small police post to act as a translator. Two days ago, one of my drivers was slapped by a police sentry for not following proper procedure at a checkpoint. I’d already read the driver the riot act and was on my way to do more of the same to the police.

The wind was taken out of my sails however as the policeman in question wasn’t present. I did meet with the officer in charge and explained that this behaviour was unacceptable. He nodded as Jaweed translated and then agreed to report further incidents to Jaweed, who would then report to me. As he spoke, I looked at his hands, covered in blue jailhouse tattoos of swastikas and daggers. Before we left I asked him about them. He smiled and rolled up his right sleeve, revealing a long series of dots on his forearm. “Rooskies.” Russians, another ex-Mujahadeen warrior. I headed back to the BHU, via the market where I bought some oranges from a grubby urchin pushing a cart, and picked up Vickie. The drive back was equally quiet and we arrived in time for a late lunch. Ally has returned from a project visit in Bagdis, and our new Doctor, Hamil, Kathleen and Brig were already tucking into the food. It was only then I realized that Bertein was gone for good, and the table seemed emptier without her.

Replies: 1 Comment

When're you gonna update? Geez, just cause you're in one of the most dangerous places in the world, doesn't mean you should neglect your livejournal...

Update! said @ 12/04/2003 01:19 AM EST