83. Afghanistan, glorified.

In the last few weeks, I have received numerous emails and phone calls from individuals who follow my blog. Some from family and friends who have a personal connection to me and others from total strangers who have been experiencing my journey through my blog postings. Each one of them shared with me how much they valued the perspective I shared about Afghanistan over the last two years and appreciated my attempt at sharing my very personal emotions and experiences. I must admit, sometimes it was very hard for me to bare so much of myself, my innermost thoughts, private moments, vulnerabilities, fears and memorable experiences with the world. But without writing about them, I am certain I would never have been able to maintain the level of sanity I am walking away from this experience with.

As I was growing up in the United States, I struggled to develop an understanding of my culture and keep it's traditions alive while learning about and living by the American values that have shaped me into who I am today. 10 years ago, when the pilot of the UN plane I was flying in announced that we had entered Afghanistan airspace, I immediately felt a magnetic pull from the earth below which provided me with a sense of belonging like I have never felt in all my 22 years in America. I walked off that plane with so much hope, expectations and plans. I wanted to give all I could back to my country and my people for their acceptance of me and their role in providing me with the history, experiences and tools which would strengthen my Afghan identity.

Although I kept up my promise, I never received the acceptance I longed for. Over the next decade I learned a lot about the Afghan culture, traditions and history but unfortunately not much of it is anything I am proud of. On the contrary, I had befriended many first generation Afghans in America and Europe who accepted me as a fellow Afghan and provided me with a more appealing view of Afghan culture than many of the Afghans I have met in Afghanistan. Maybe as immigrants, our parents only taught us the positive aspects of our culture in an effort to try and make it more appealing for us to accept as we grew up surrounded by western values. Or maybe in their forced departures from their lives in Afghanistan, it was all they could hold on to in the face of their daily struggles of rebuilding their lives in foreign lands and cultures. Either way, my generation of Afghans grew up with a glorified understanding of Afghanistan's culture and history which in hindsight I admit was most probably an incomplete picture than what it actually was. I understand the devastating effects war can have on a society and it's culture just as much as anyone but regardless, I can not get myself to accept that a proud culture that existed for thousands of years could deteriorate so much in 30 years from the glorified version we were introduced to as kids.

As many of you know, I have recently been struggling with my disappointment in how things have turned out in Afghanistan and the dismal future it faces. I often write about a sense of personal failure I have. But over the last few weeks, everyone who has contacted me has done so primarily to share their support and to help me see how much I have accomplished. The last phone call I received was from my uncle who lives in France. Despite the fact that I have spent very little time with him in my life, he is someone whose wisdom and character I admire and respect endlessly. To my surprise, he told me he is an avid follower of my blog. Despite the language barrier he has continuously over the last two years followed my journey online. He expressed how proud he is of me and my dedication to helping Afghanistan when many Afghans living in the US and Europe who have grown up and spent a majority of their lives in Afghanistan have done nothing. But he said my last couple of blog postings concerned him, specifically those with an underlying tone of personal disappointment and failure, to the point where he felt the need to reach out to me. He shared his thoughtful insight about the fate of Afghans and assured me that there is nothing more I could have done to change it. He provided me with a brutally honest historical perspective on the politics and culture of Afghanistan. Our discussion confirmed my fear that the leadership of Afghanistan will leave along with the international community and once again the Afghan people will be left to their fate of trying to survive death on a daily basis.

Before ending the call, he told me how proud I should be of myself for all that I have done over the years. More than his words, his voice and the fact that he picked up the phone all the way from another continent to call me and acknowledge my feelings moved me beyond words. Like many others who read my blog, he encouraged me to turn my blog into a book to share with the world my unique perspective on Afghanistan over the last 10 years. Unfortunately, the world is no longer interested in anything about Afghanistan aside from ending the war. We have presidential elections coming up in the US and Europe, failing economies to fix, health epidemics to find treatments for, political revolutions around the world to monitor, nuclear bombs to prevent from being made, Mr. Kony to capture in Africa, the Hunger Games to watch, and Kim Kardashian's latest fling to follow. Why would anyone read my book about Afghanistan?

I have finally accepted that I will never save Afghanistan, it's people or it's culture. All I can do is identify the positive attributes of the glorified Afghan culture I was raised to value and appreciate and try to keep it alive in my life. I will continue to cherish all that I love about Afghanistan and share it with those in my sphere of influence. I will teach my three little nieces who were born in America the beautiful Dari language. I will continue to cook and savor the delicious Afghan cuisine my mother cooked for us every night for dinner. I will continue to listen to the romantic and soulful melodies of Afghan singers and musicians. I will celebrate all the festive Afghan holidays. And finally, I will hold dear to me and live by the afghan values my parents instilled in me. No matter what happens to the piece of land called Afghanistan, it will always live on in all it's glory in my heart.