Spring 2004 Journal from the Field
March 23, Dubai

Dear Friends –

We have reached the end of our non-stop adventure in Afghanistan. Following some six visits to our project area in Guldara (Dari for “valley of the flowers”), we have learned a great deal about the people there, the dramas of their lives and their great needs. Most importantly, through the support of the Global Partnership for Afghanistan (GPFA), some 70 Guldara farmers have planted a total of 3,500 trees in small family orchards. An additional 7,500 small saplings—apples, plums, peaches and apricots—are in the ground in GPFA’s nursery to supply trees for next year’s plantings. We also have in place an experimental poplar nursery which includes 450 fast-growing hybrid cuttings which we hand carried from the U.S.

Shortly, we will begin a nursery from seed, which is expected to produce about 10,000 mulberry trees for family gardens. The people of Guldara love these trees. They produce a delicate, perishable fruit which has traditionally attracted visitors from miles away. In addition, they dry the mulberries and eat them while they work in the fields. You see rows of barefoot men shoveling and planting, with an oilcloth nearby spread with mulberries, water and bread. The nursery will give the villagers training in grafting and other skills, and the trees offer potential for income from silk.

The farmers of Guldara were all eager to give us land on which to plant our experimental, fast-growing poplar nursery. A staple of the building industry, poplars are in great demand as income producing trees; they also support reforestation. We quickly planted our hybrid cuttings, along with local cuttings to form a control group. Within just two weeks, we were delighted to see that all of the hybrid cuttings had sprouted. We have great hopes for this experiment as a new chapter in poplar culture for Afghanistan.

There is a vast need for nurseries as well as orchard and vineyard replanting throughout Afghanistan, whose villages and cities have been denuded of trees by war, drought and desperation. We felt the impact from dust storms like those experienced in the dustbowl days of the Texas Panhandle. As the wind blows the burkas in the city and reveals smartly dressed women, one begins to think that conservation and tree planting could help them feel a bit freer to leave the protection of blue robes behind.

In Guldara, our team met many times with the Shura, the village government of elders, to plan our replanting initiative and select the villagers to participate. The men ranged from bearded, craggy elders to clean-shaven young men in western dress. The discussion was long, animated and sometimes excited, with occasional pauses for translation. Once the villagers heard of our plans, the Shura’s challenge was to select among the many families who so urgently need trees. As a result, they asked us to serve more people by reducing the number of trees per family orchard. We later decided to more than double the number of orchards. In addition, with the help of a last minute infusion of cash from donors, we were able to fund a nursery to supply trees for next year’s needs so we can expand the project to other villagers and new communities.

Our nurseryman (below) and his two brothers own 4 jeribs of land (about 2 acres). We figured that, based on their potato crop, they share about $1,000 in earnings. They supplement this with money they make from a small stall in the village bazaar. Typically, each man has a family of 6- 8. With this subsistence income, you can understand how difficult it would be for them to purchase the orchard trees that once provided a significant share of the world’s dried fruit.

Afghan hospitality is unrivaled, and everywhere we went, we were invited to lunch or “chai.” Despite his modest means, our nurseryman invited us to lunch. While we had wonderful meals of the tastiest lamb in Kabul, the village fare reflected its economic situation. Our celebratory lunch in the nurseryman’s home was typical. We sat against the wall while the farmer unfurled a near room-sized oilcloth revealing about eight large Afghan breads some two-feet long. (Bread is the basic eating utensil.) Then he brought small plates of two fried eggs and bowl of Shamali soup (tomato and spice broth) to be shared by two people. We tore off pieces of bread and put them into the soup. The luxury was a single chunk of mutton and potato. Lots of green or black tea followed.

In our meetings with the Shura and farmers, there were many moving speeches by those who thanked the “people of America” for helping to revive their tradition of fruit orchards. Their words touched us deeply. Their gratitude was so heartfelt and genuine that we silently pledged to do more and more to help them rebuild a future for themselves and their families.

The Shura also eagerly arranged for Suzanne to meet a group of Guldara women who comprise the women’s Shura. And that was an equally powerful experience. Suzanne was led by a 10 year-old boy through the mud brick walls of a farm compound. Greeted by a few scrawny chickens, she headed to a dilapidated home and up a dark, barely passable staircase to a second floor room lit by sunlight shining through the window of plastic sheeting. Leaving their shoes at the door, a female interpreter and Suzanne introduced themselves to ten proud, friendly women. After sharing the customary gracious greetings, the Shura women sat on cushions along the wall of a small, carpeted room while one woman nursed her child. They eagerly told their stories.

Two attractive women in their 40s (on right) with intelligent eyes described living through the onerous restrictions of the Taliban regime during which they were not allowed to leave their homes or obtain education. Later when the fighting came to the village, they were forced to flee as the Taliban burned the village, leaving only the damaged mud-brick shells of their homes. They returned in 2002, largely from Pakistan, to find the village’s scorched earth filled with landmines. Gradually, with the help of some NGOs, they and their families are rebuilding their homes and their lives. The crews of Halo Trust are still encamped at the base of the village and daily add large white checks on village buildings indicating the completion of de-mining.

We asked about their needs, suggesting we would try to help them on our own or through partnerships with others. They responded immediately that they play an active role in tending the trees and managing the farms and orchards. They mentioned the need for materials for pest and soil management for their farms and kitchen gardens of tomatoes, potatoes, onions and other vegetables. They said that before the Taliban they each had a couple of goats, 3-4 sheep, 10-20 chickens and a donkey. Now farm animals are few and far between, eliminating the extra income that women traditionally make for their family from the sale of farm products. (We heard that Afghan women treat their farm animals with the love that Americans give to their pets.)

They wished for vocational training, literacy programs (6 of the 10 were literate), and women’s health education, particularly in maternal care. They said that 40% of the women are widows. We struggled to translate the word for electricity, of which they have none. Although the school buildings have been totally destroyed, boys and girls now attend school, and all are eager for more education and more teachers. The village school today has no walls; it consists only of wooden poles covered by plastic sheeting in winter, and is totally open in spring and summer.

A friend asked if village women work in burkas. In fact, the women and children are in the fields wearing bright, multicolored clothing—sometimes highlighted with sequins or embroidery. When foreigners pass, some women demurely cover their faces with their headscarves while others look into your eyes with bright smiles.

As we arrived in Dubai and headed home, we were pleased with our support of Guldara, but increasingly challenged to expand GPFA’s initiatives to other villagers and villages. Dubai is all steel, glass and glitter. But the dust of Kabul and the hard-working people of Guldara are the ever-present images in our mind.

With best regards and thanks for your contributions to the people of Guldara,