Baharak - Afghanistan

Sophie Ibbotson:

- Arriving in Baharak -

The road between Ishkashim and Baharak is a little scary. The road regularly drops away into the swollen river below, and there are a few villages along the way whose residents have a reputation for being occasionally less than friendly. The burning of a school in Warduj had already delayed our departure once, and we were keen to keep the Isuzu moving. The anticipated four-hour drive turned out to be five and a half hours, and there was nowhere suitable to stop for a wee. By the time I reached Baharak I was bursting.

I was the first to pass through the gates of Afghanaid's compound in Baharak district, and I was met by an enthusiastic reception committee. A hand-painted welcome sign was strung on the front wall and the staff held bunches of sweet-smelling pink roses picked from the office garden. I felt like a VIP!

The lunch that awaited us was a feast. Afghanistan may be the poorest country along the road challenge route but its cuisine is vastly superior to that of the 'stans and much appreciated after weeks of grisly meat on a skewer. We were joined at lunch by Habibullah, Afghanaid's regional director, and he gave us a crash-course in Afghanaid's work in Badakhshan.

- Afghanaid Projects in Badakhshan -

Baharak district is home to some of Afghanaid's most succesful projects. We were fortunate enough to visit a number of them. Two projects particularly caught my eye:

Afghanaid is administering an upper catchment programme, part of a larger plan for the Warduj River. The upper catchment is in the river's rain-fed areas and is primarily focused on reforestation. Five tree species (including walnut, almond and pistachio) are being planted to hold together the soil on the mountainsides and limit the damage caused by landslides and flash floods. Villagers are keeping their livestock off the hillside while the saplings grow. This has had the added bonus of enabling local wild herbs to flourish.

A small group of farmers involved in the project recently travelled to Nepal to see advanced-stage reforestation. We met and talked with one of these men. He proudly showed us his passport and Nepali visa and explained that he had never before even dreamed of being able to go abroad. Now, having been to Nepal, he thought he might like to go to England too. Involvement in the upper catchment project had widened his horizons and made him one of the most forceful supporters of Afghanistan's reforestation.

Deforestation often occurs in the first place because people cut down trees for firewood. If this does not happen in a sustainable manner, the hillsides quickly become barren and women must walk further and further in order to find fuel. In a bid to help overcome both these problems, Afghanaid has been teaching women to make bio-briquettes - an alternative source of fuel for cooking.

Amanda and I had priviliged access to women's areas: men cannot enter homes in some villages unless they are family members. We sat in the baked mud courtyard of a village compound as the local women demonstrated the briquette making process.

An armload of straw is tipped into a shallow pit in the ground and then set alight with a match. Once the straw begins to blacken it is doused with water to put out the flames, and piled up on a plastic sheet. The women then pound the straw with a large, round stone, grinding it into small pieces. They add a little water to the straw so that it has the consistency of fresh compost, and press it into a cylindrical mould. The women hit the top of the mould to ensure its contents are thoroughly compressed, and then turn out the content onto the ground so that it can dry in the sun. Many briquettes can be made simultaneously and a single briquette can burn for 22 minutes - more than enough time to boil a litre of water.

- Waterworks -

After a week in Afghanistan, I woudl say that water (or the lack thereof) is one of the country's biggest problems. Properly harnessed, however, the rivers of the Pamirs and Hindu Kush may prove to be a major asset.

As it stands, Afghanistan imports almost all of its power. Two cables routed via Mazar-i Sharif carry all of Kabul's electricity from Uzbekistan. It's expensive, there is never enough to go round, the cables are vulnerable (as constant power cuts attest) and it leaves the country at the mercy of yet another foreign government. Afghanistan's own water supply may provide the solution.

About half an hour's drive from Baharak we visited a micro-hydro project. Using funds from the National Solidarity Programme (NSP) and the expertise of Afghanaid's engineers, villagers have installed a turbine and generator capable of powering every home in the village. The Indian-made machinery, purchased for just $3600, now gives constant, clean electricity to 1000 people. Families no longer have to burn expensive diesel or kerosene lamps and, at least in regard to power, the village is completely self-reliant.

Afghanaid has already helped establish 19 such micro-hydro units in Badakhshan. District alone. The technology is simple and the expertise to properly implement it is not rocket science. Most villages in the province and, indeed, across much of Afghanistan, are built in the vicinity of a river. If communities can harness this natural resource to meet their power needs, it will enable the country to take a massive forward leap.

- Economic Development and a New Photographer -

Micro-credit and micro-enterprise are two of the big buzz words in development circles. I knew approximately what each entailed but had never actually seen them in practice. The female participants in Afghanaid's enterprise schemes showed me first-hand what it's all about.

Over two days I visited five or six women's groups, each with about 20 members. At their most simple, these are savings groups: each woman contributes 50-100 Afghanis ($1-2) each month and has it recorded in the group's ledger. She knows her money is safe, can watch the sum grow over the course of time, and can withdraw some or all of it when necessity prevails.

Women can also approach the group for a loan from their combined capital. The time period after which the money is repayable is negotiated in advance but, in accordance with shariah law, no set interest is payable, Instead, if the woman generates a profit from her investment of the loan, it will be split 50:50 between her and the group. Likewise, any losses will also be shared equally.

The women we met had taken loans for a variety of purposes, but predominantly to set up small businesses. Livestock and bee keeping were particularly popular, as were weaving and embroidery. Afghanaid staff have helped the women to identify suitable markets for their products and also taught key business skills such as book keeping.

We had a fairly riotous time visiting a women's textile group. Initially subdued, the women quickly came into their own and proudly demonstrated not only their work (embroidery and weaving) but also what they had been able to buy: everything from a calf to tubs of geraniums. We were treated not only to a mock demonstration of milking a cow but also to a number of lewd Dari jokes!

Cameras are powerful things. As any traveller to remote areas will know, people love to see their pictures and the digital age has made this far easier to facilitate. I shoot predominantly on a Nikon D200 - a fairly intimidating-looking SLR - with a chunky zoom lens. It's a great camera but even after owning it for three years I don't understand half the functions.

I took a few photos of the women in the weaving group and showed them to the young woman next to me. She was clearly excited to see herself and her friends but looking along was not enough: she'd rather be the photographer than the subject. I smiled, crossed my fingers that she wouldn't drop it, and deomnstrated the most basic functions.

Half an hour later, I still didn't have my camera back. My pupil was hugely enthusiastic and had far more luck than I in getting her friends to pose naturally. The portraits she took far outweigh mine in their intimacy and are a wonderful reminder of an inspirational group of women.

Steve Dew-Jones:

I do not know exactly why, but even though none of us really believed that anything would go wrong during our five-hour journey from Ishkashim, there was still a lingering air of tension and apprehension about us as we split into three driving teams and headed off at twenty minute intervals, at the crack of dawn.

Following yesterday’s torching of the school (apparently the dispute involved the location of said school. The pyromaniacs clearly felt it should be elsewhere or not at all), members of Afghanaid’s official HQ in Kabul were clearly worried for our safety and sent two extra drivers as a precaution. A great deal of amusement was found in working out who was most/least dispensable and thus which order the cars should travel in. Bryn and I were sent in the middle and are thus feeling particularly significant.

The mountains of the Hindu Kush were to be our backdrop for the bumpy journey to Baharak. Very impressive indeed, and sufficiently so that they even stopped me complaining too much about the strain the bumps were causing my lower back.

Upon arrival we received a heroes’ welcome – very generous indeed – and were each given a bunch of flowers (regardless of gender), before we were treated to the first of two hearty meals, followed by the first of four chai and snack sessions. I like the culture here immensely. Hospitality comes well before any thoughts regarding time-keeping and I simply cannot imagine that any Afghan would ever feel under the same time-constraints that consume the lives of almost every Westerner.

This afternoon we managed to squeeze in visits to two local projects of Afghanaid – one to a reforestation system, which has replanted over 30,000 saplings in the past few years; the other to a hydro-electric project that has generated electricity for the 134 houses that make up one of the local villages. Previously the only source of light came from diesel lamps, which cost 25 Afghanis per day. Now the electricity only costs 20 Afghanis per month!

It has been wonderful to see the many positive effects that the long-standing Kabul-based charity, Afghanaid, has had upon this district, on top of the water irrigation system we visited in Ishkashim, not to mention practically the entire road infrastructure between Ishkashim and Faizabad. Our driver Hassan, who spoke barely a word of English, would constantly amuse us by proudly exclaiming “Afghanaid” every time that we crossed a bridge.

It’s a shame we aren’t going to be here for longer because I can already feel myself falling for this country. One thing that really surprised me at dinner was to learn, from our kind host Habibullah, that the bulk of Afghans actually seem to be in favour of the Western military action of the past decade, suggesting that it was “much worse before” and that it would cause “disaster” if they were to pull out. Apparently, before the conflict it was completely forbidden for women to go out in public unaccompanied and no girls were educated. Now, women can go to the bazaar or the school as freely as they choose and every girl goes to school. There still seems, almost without exception, to be full adherence to Burqas - which even have a covering over the face – but it is at least refreshing to see the outline of women on the streets.