Monday, March 18th, was my last day in Afghanistan. I am now writing this last, and final blog entry from New York City.
My last evening in Kabul was spent at the Afceco orphanage where many of my students live. I watched TV with the kids and asked them about their recent trips back to the provinces to visit family. We then had dinner and drank tea. I was excited to meet several new girls who had been transferred from an orphanage in Jalalabad. I tried to talk to them, but the war-stricken looks on their faces told the whole story. I was also able to see Nazira, one of my most dedicated cello students and to give her one last hug. It was the best possible way to spend my last evening in Kabul. The strength and beauty of these girls renewed my hope for a better Afghanistan.
One of my last weekends in Afghanistan was spent in Panjshir, a spectacular valley tucked away in the mountains north of Kabul. In my seven months, it was my only excursion outside the city. And it was one of the best trips of my life, because I saw a different Afghanistan. I saw children playing in the streets, men working in the fields and fishing in the river. I saw a true, touching and authentic country, certainly harsh, but also hopeful. This short trip cemented a feeling that had troubled me for months. I felt trapped in Kabul and unable to see beyond the ivory tower of our little music school and its 170 students. Looking back, I only wish I could have done, seen, felt and helped more.
Certainly, I come back a tougher, wiser, older, and more compassionate person. I also come back deeply changed in ways that I have yet to understand myself. Before I went to Afghanistan, I often found myself wondering how the experience was going to affect me. And now I know. But at the same, I have no idea exactly. I do know that I understand the world, and my relationship to it, in a profoundly different way.
When people ask me about Afghanistan, I struggle to find even one word that feels right or true. I often talk about the "heaviness" of the experience, but that's not really what I mean. There's no simple way, or single story that can capture or somehow sum up Afghanistan, it's really beyond description. Maybe one day, I will be able to think about the country without wanting to cry. Maybe I will be able to digest and understand exactly what it's all about and what it meant for me, but for now, I don't know. What I can say is that Afghanistan is both the saddest and most beautiful place in the world. And the same goes for the people. Every Afghan face will be etched into my memory; they are simply the most striking, fierce and dramatically stunning people I have ever known.
Lastly, I would like to thank all of my readers for their support and interest. During the last seven months I received many messages from followers of the blog and I am deeply grateful for all of the encouragement and positivity. I only wish I could've written more! It's very exciting to know that there's a whole world out there passionate about the possibilities of cultural exchange and musical diplomacy. Again, my deepest thanks.
As I started my first blog entry with a picture of my first glimpse of Afghanistan from the plane, so I will end the blog with my last view of Afghanistan's jagged and snowy mountains.
My last evening in Kabul was spent at the Afceco orphanage where many of my students live. I watched TV with the kids and asked them about their recent trips back to the provinces to visit family. We then had dinner and drank tea. I was excited to meet several new girls who had been transferred from an orphanage in Jalalabad. I tried to talk to them, but the war-stricken looks on their faces told the whole story. I was also able to see Nazira, one of my most dedicated cello students and to give her one last hug. It was the best possible way to spend my last evening in Kabul. The strength and beauty of these girls renewed my hope for a better Afghanistan.
One of my last weekends in Afghanistan was spent in Panjshir, a spectacular valley tucked away in the mountains north of Kabul. In my seven months, it was my only excursion outside the city. And it was one of the best trips of my life, because I saw a different Afghanistan. I saw children playing in the streets, men working in the fields and fishing in the river. I saw a true, touching and authentic country, certainly harsh, but also hopeful. This short trip cemented a feeling that had troubled me for months. I felt trapped in Kabul and unable to see beyond the ivory tower of our little music school and its 170 students. Looking back, I only wish I could have done, seen, felt and helped more.
Certainly, I come back a tougher, wiser, older, and more compassionate person. I also come back deeply changed in ways that I have yet to understand myself. Before I went to Afghanistan, I often found myself wondering how the experience was going to affect me. And now I know. But at the same, I have no idea exactly. I do know that I understand the world, and my relationship to it, in a profoundly different way.
When people ask me about Afghanistan, I struggle to find even one word that feels right or true. I often talk about the "heaviness" of the experience, but that's not really what I mean. There's no simple way, or single story that can capture or somehow sum up Afghanistan, it's really beyond description. Maybe one day, I will be able to think about the country without wanting to cry. Maybe I will be able to digest and understand exactly what it's all about and what it meant for me, but for now, I don't know. What I can say is that Afghanistan is both the saddest and most beautiful place in the world. And the same goes for the people. Every Afghan face will be etched into my memory; they are simply the most striking, fierce and dramatically stunning people I have ever known.
Lastly, I would like to thank all of my readers for their support and interest. During the last seven months I received many messages from followers of the blog and I am deeply grateful for all of the encouragement and positivity. I only wish I could've written more! It's very exciting to know that there's a whole world out there passionate about the possibilities of cultural exchange and musical diplomacy. Again, my deepest thanks.
As I started my first blog entry with a picture of my first glimpse of Afghanistan from the plane, so I will end the blog with my last view of Afghanistan's jagged and snowy mountains.
 |
