“…learning is the one that we most desire for our children”

Travelling to schools is one of the aspects of the job that we do NOT have to do, but it is so rewarding! To see the kids of all ages come out to meet us as we travel around the various villages is really magical. At the risk of sounding all soppy and sentimental, all of us like to stop and chat with the kids that we pass. There is a huge push in this region for schooling for boys and especially for girls. The Governor of this province is a woman, in fact the first woman politician in Afghanistan, and she is especially keen that the children receive good education. There are a number of educational resources that have come into the Bamiyan region and because of this need for knowledge there is significant energy going into the creation of higher learning facilities like universities. Currently if students wish to go to a tertiary institute they must go to Kabul – 30 minutes away in a plane but 8 hours away on a dangerous and tortuous road.

As I travelled to villages not far geographically from Bamiyan, though centuries away in terms of facilities and resources, I am reminded of quite a lovely conversation between Sir Edmund Hillary and Urkien Sherpa (from the Book ‘Schoolhouse in the Clouds’)

“Tell us, if there is one thing we could do for your village, what would it be?”
“With all respect, Sahib, you have little to teach us in strength and toughness. And we don’t’ envy you your restless spirits. Perhaps we are happier than you? But we would like our children to go to school. Of all the things that you have, learning is the one that we most desire for our children”.

We visited a school with some of our Malaysian Colleagues. There was me, Ra (the Padre), Allan (the other Civilian to me), Steve Clarke (our administration Officer), Jo Saville (our NZ Police-woman)  and our interpreter Jaffir. It was closed for EID but it did not matter. The children in the adjacent village swarmed to us, and we had school books and pencils and rulers to give them.

 

Jo, Allan and Hassan - photo by Steve Clarke

 

 

‘The people of the Foladi Valley’

A trip up the Foladi and the Sadaat Valleys presents a road that is tortuous and very bumpy but ‘whew – the sights are stunning’ – local Afghanis from Bamyan region on the road with their donkeys or their bikes or the motorcycles or in their motor vehicles. There are young girls doing the washing at streams. I saw kids and older boys who waved and watched us drive past. Turbans, burkas and chadors, brightly coloured dresses on the kids – often with sparkle in it. I saw the donkeys and the cows and an occasional Kamaz which are Russian built trucks that the Afghanis use for transporting everything – dirty, huge, loud and spurting fumes that engulfed their origin. Wonderful autumnal views of the region and more recently the lack of leaves on the trees. Way in the distance were the snow capped hills looking down on us. Beautiful views!!

Afghanistan – The Patrol

Chinook helicopters

‘So what’sit like Blue?’ said I to our Chief Medic. ‘Whaddya mean, Doc?’ says Blue. ‘What’sit like to go out on a Patrol?’ I enthused.

I was keen to find out about this, for whist we are very much doing the best to look after the ‘hearts and minds’ of the local Hazaran population, here in Afghanistan we are still very much an Army and as such have a military role in protection and defence.

Blue sat me down, and told me all about the patrol that he had just come back from.

“We were around 34 soldiers and our patrol consisted of Kiwis, and our American Cousins. We also had interpreters and members of the Afghan National Police and I was responsible for the health and trauma management of any casualties.

Early on Monday morning we got uplifted by Chinook helicopters from outside our Forward Operating Base in the north of Bamyan Province. These huge choppers landed on uneven ground that looked pretty impossible to get down on, we were waved on in lines and sat down a little uncomfortable as we still had our packs still on. Out the back of the helo the tail gunner hung over the end of the ramp. To the sides of us, two gunners took care of their respective arcs of vision. Up and away, the birds took off with an escort of four apache gun ships. Our destination was to a ‘landing zone, LZ, some distance away. The flight was exhilarating and, for me, it felt like I was truly part of a multi-national patrol.

We initially flew low over a village called Do Abi where there had been reports of some insurgents (or Taliban) setting up ambushes for us to walk into. The intent of our ‘fly by’ was to show them that we weren’t afraid of them and that we were ready to step up to confront them, and defend ourselves, if we had been attacked.

Over Do Abi we went, and then ascending the huge valley adjacent to the town we flew to a high altitude drop zone (DZ) on the far East of Bamyan Province.  In the second bird my section waited for the first one to land and deploy its forces, so that we could deploy ours. We circled around the DZ and then came in to land between a couple of close peaks and onto a small, narrow plateau. As soon as we were off the Chinook, up goes the ramp and she is away. A couple of Apaches made a low pass to clear the peaks for our advance and then they are gone, leaving us in the silence of the forbidding Hindu Kush mountain range. I looked around at the  steep and unforgiving terrain, wondering how we would go at this altitude, but we Kiwis are a fit bunch and we seemed to just step up to this patrol opportunity.

 

Blue on patrol

We quickly determined our battle orders, and then advanced up a steep valley. I figure that we were about 3000 metres above sea level at this point, so the going was pretty stressful on the ‘ole lungs’. An occasional stop to pause and look around at the stunning mountain range, before we got to our first waypoint.

On we go, and up higher and higher along a goat path higher still we track, finally arriving at our night-time location, approximately 3500 metres above sea level and right on the border with the next eastern-most district and within 2 kms of a village that we were keen on observing.

Our security and observation posts were set up for the 12 hour night. At this time also, I went to check up on the health of all those in the patrol. Had to put an IV into one guy who was a little dehydrated and who had a low BP. Then we hunkered down into our night routine, and the silence of the mountains was incredible and unforgettable. I could hear my heart beating and as it did so, I had this unbelievable feeling of being alone atop the world. Truly amazing and very humbling.

The intention for our patrol at this point was to observe any activity in the area. At this height we had a good chance of spotting any movement in the region.

A good nights sleep for me in my warm sleeping bag on the ground and then the next day we were up and gone by 0715. Going down the way that we had come up, first we headed down a steep narrow river valley and then we began the steepest descent I have ever walked or patrolled. It was truly amazing that no-one was lost off the steep 1 in 2 hillside at any stage of the patrol back. The track was barely wide enough for our boot prints. Looking down the drop off to my side took my breath away such was the depth of the ravine, but for all that we reached our pick up point relived that we had made it in one piece and in good health, save for a few bruises, blisters and abrasions.

For me, a challenging and rewarding patrol to have been involved in. I saw and participated in the multi-faceted aspects of a modern army patrol, and certainly it was a privilege to have been the Medic for it.”

 

Doc’s day trip – Afghanistan: Foladi Valley

Overlooking Bamiyan Town

The cool day is sun-filled right across the hills of the Bamiyan valley, to the snow that adds a frame to the remarkable picture’s scene. The Padre (Ra) and Allan Kelly, a civilian such as myself, and I head off to the nearby Foladi Valley. The journey to our planned destination was anticipated to take around 40 minutes . It was to the farthest medical clinic up the valley, but I don’t think any of us anticipated the state of the roads that took much negotiation and rocky-road manoeuvres. Our caution in thusly travelling was countered by the speed of the local police who seemed to be on ‘blue light flashing’ every time they took to passing us on the  rutted dusty roads.  Cautiously we drive, and an hour later we feast our eyes on a most lovely village that looked as though it was from way back in ancient Medieval times.  We were presented with often huge houses that had stunning walled architecture, and which gave home to 5-6 families living there. The walls of these not unattractive constructions were made of mud – brick or stone and concrete.  Often they had lattices on windows and sometimes there were occasional windows blocked in to conserve warmth against the bitter cold.

The narrow streets of this village gave the image of quaintness as women walked the streets with their chadors, the days washing perched in perfect balance upon their heads. By the sides of the road and thrusting like fingers into the ploughed fields were water-trails nurturing the land and all the village’s washing, at the very least – dishes and clothes, seemed to be done in such water courses. 6-9 inches deep these tracts meander delicately and rather picturesquely across fields and along poplar lined fields planted in rows to stake out boundaries or emphasise forests. Just beautiful,  and made more so as we were lucky enough to travel to the region the day after there had been rain and so there was little dust – even the trees had shed some of their dust and were another  cleaner, purer colour today.  Children were playing in mud and in the streets, whilst some were doing the dishes for their parents. All stopped to look at us as we passed and most would run away to prevent photographs being taken, yet everywhere we looked to snap another image told ‘a thousand words’ and we wanted to capture them all.

Finally we found our destination medical clinic that had over the last week been taken over by the International Red Crescent (IRC ) and  we were told that it had a Doctor, a Nurse and a Vaccinator. A couple of packages of goodies –  woollen clothes, dolls, and toys made by generous Kiwis back home –  that we gave  to the clinic  prompted smiles in gratitude. This was the only reward that the Padre, Allan and I could ever have wanted. A few photos on the way back, man and donkey, women walking the roads, children by the sides of the roads and scenes of a majestic country present themselves to us in the winter’s sun heightened , again, by the reflection of the snow upon the hills.

Day 1, Week 1 – The Doc has landed

One of the many young local boys on his donkey

Around 1200 we land at the Bamiyan airport.  Day 1, week 1.  After a trip of over 36 hours I arrive on a dust blown airstrip in Bamiyan City, North West of Kabul. Out the plane I tumble with an improvised technique that immediately stamps me as being non-military. I know this, for all the military folk turn away from me and murmur to each other with shaking heads. Finally I decamp and present myself in the best possible light to the amassed audience who are by now tittering away with hidden guffaws.

I look around me. My goodness this region is amazing. History thrusts itself into my eyes. Alexander the Great, Genghis Khan, and Marc Shaw, Doctor!  Being a civilian doc for the NZ forces in the region is a personal delight and I feel very honoured to have been given the chance to be here again. Again, because I came here for the first time over 30 years ago, before the Russians and the Taliban. Then, there was a small town that had some of the most majestic of monuments: two Buddha’s carved into the rock face of the nearby slopes overlooking Bamiyan Town in Bamiyan Province. Now there are two huge holes where they were, for the Taliban in their designer vandalism bombed them out of their thousand year benevolence overlooking the population of the region.

I am relishing the thought of caring for the NZ forces here, and also assisting the local health politic as I can. Frankly I was scared still when I first got here, but after five days am now settling in to the routine of the place rather well. The men and women based here are fully supportive of having a civilian in my role and go out of their way to smile and be friendly, though having said that in all probability most are probably still chuckling at the way that I arrived here!  Not being familiar with a military way of life the first that I have to do is understand that acronyms are essential communication. It takes awhile to master them and many a time I sit bewildered in meetings as all around me nod their heads in understanding at the one true word of English in every sentence and a polyglot of letters that surrounds it. Yesterday I tried to show my abilities at understanding this new language as I spoke with a few acronyms in a sentence or two that I proudly presented to the CO. I thought that he was rather impressed actually, but then the Sar’Major came up to me later and said ‘what was all that about Doc?’ Distraught I went to bed later that night and rolled over the pages of a textbook that I have called ‘Understanding how the Military talk’. I got to line two before I fell asleep.

The only thing that I am not to keen about here is the bloody dust. Gets into everything, and so I have to cover up my computer and electronic gear day and night for micro-molecules of this dust penetrate deep into every room. My quarters are OK. First thoughts when I saw them were of how quickly I could get back home again, but I have moderated this now as I have flashed my personal comfort references around the room: photo of the family, photos of me mates back home and a New Zealand flag proudly hoisted on the wall above toothbrush and my towel rack. Am feeling quite patriotic actually!

Have been out and about the town and the scenery is beautiful. My first look around Bamiyan and the sights stun me with their difference and their beauty: young boys and smaller girls wave at us with energetic sideways motion of their hands as we fly past – I wave back for it seems a crime not to acknowledge this friendliness, men in turbans and with full beard who lead their donkeys or ride them to a destination known only to them, women working the potato fields hurrying to get the crop in before the snow starts to fall in about a months time, passage through the bazaar with groups of men tending stalls most of whom are drinking the local tea, or chai, as they talk, often gesticulating with arms thrown into the air in a moment occasioned with laughter.

Willow trees line the town’s sole tar-sealed street giving momentary respite from the dust and a calmness to travel that otherwise would pitch and roll with each rut of the time-worn pock-marked road. We pass building after building. Some in good state but with dust colouring them beige, and some rising from the dust as ruins that history keeps a better record of. Around the town there are fairly steep hills on either side. But looking above these hills and the haze of those travelling the roads, I see the range of the Hindu Kush in the back-ground looking down upon us like the ‘all-knowing sage’. Rising to over 5000 metres, as I am entranced by it I am also reminded of the severity of living in this most ancient of lands.

First week at the office! What a week. It is good to be here and amongst these people, both my own kind and the Afghanis. I have much to learn from both, and I reflect upon this as the silence of each night beckons me to rest. Slowly, gradually, I will prove that up am up to the task expected of me in this demanding role.

HUMAN RABIES (VAMPIRE BAT) PERU,AMAZONAS

An outbreak of rabies, allegedly spread by vampire bats, has killed 4 children in the Amazonas region of Peru, local press reported. Rabid vampire bats have attacked more than 500 people in Peru’s Amazon. The attacks occurred in the village of Urakusa, in north eastern Peru, where the indigenous [Aguaruna] tribe lives. The deaths happened during the week of 2-6 Aug 2010 in the district of Nieva, and the rabies diagnosis was confirmed by a forensics team sent to the region by the Ministry of Health. Eduardo Quezada, chief of the Regional Directorate of Health in Amazonas, told the press that medical staff has been sent to the area after the diagnosis confirmation, with 1300 doses of vaccine. Most human cases of vampire bat-transmitted rabies have occurred in the Amazon region of Brazil and Peru and in some remote communities of Colombia. Vampire bats are found only in Latin America. Of the 3 known species – Diphylla ecaudata, Diaemus youngi, and Desmodus rotundus (the common vampire) — only the latter has been known to feed on mammals and thus has possibly transmitted rabies virus in the human outbreaks studied.. It remains to be confirmed un-equivocally that the 4 deceased children died as a results of vampire bat bites. Further information would be welcomed.

Source: Living in Peru

<http://www.livinginperu.com/news-12870-health-rabies-outbreak-amazonas-peru-kills-four-children>

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