Authors: Howard Faber
The American soldiers worked in eight-hour shifts, alongside the now larger Sharidure
group of guards. They checked each vehicle coming to town and required each person
not from the village to be interviewed and searched.
When not on duty, the Americans had a special project as their focus, the school.
They made wooden desks, larger chalkboards, added classrooms, and put glass and screens
in the windows. They saw fifty students in a classroom and decided more classrooms
were needed, so they built more rooms on the school, each one having lights. That
was possible because the engineer built a small electricity-producing power plant
upstream from Sharidure. The school and hospital got the first power lines. There
were plans to add another generator and more power lines.
Next to the school was a new volleyball court, which became a gathering place for
the town. On Wednesday evenings, there were matches where everyone cheered, laughed,
and felt proud of their town. A grandstand was built on one side of the court, facing
a sidewall of the school with the volleyball court in between. The supply helicopters
brought a projector, and the Sharidure outdoor theater was born. Ahmroodeen was the
master of ceremonies and translator for the shows, mostly children's videos. Elmo
became a favorite.
***
At the end of summer, Colonel Elliot stopped by Ali and Nafisa's home to ask for
his help. “Could you come with me to the American base near Kabul to talk to my commander
about Sharidure and the possibility of repeating what you have done here in other
communities in this area?”
It was Nafisa who answered first. “Of course, Ali should
go. We are proud of our
hometown. We would like others to experience what we have here.”
Kodamon Valley ⢠By Howard Faber
It was decided that Ali, Colonel Elliot, and Ahmroodeen would go the next day to
Bagram, the American base. They rode in a humvee, stopping first at the beautiful
lakes, Bondi-Amir, then in Bamiyan. Ali just shook his head sadly at the sight of
the ruined Buddhas.
They kept going, over the pass, then gradually down toward the road into Kabul.
It took all day, so it was almost dark when they
approached the huge base. The base
guards knew they were coming, so security was thorough but quick, and they were warmly
welcomed by Colonel Elliot's commander.
Ali, Colonel Elliot, and Ahmroodeen were his guests at a big dinner. The amount of
food was mind-boggling, though there were just six people in the room, the three
from Sharidure, and three American officers. Eventually, the talk came around to
what was accomplished in Sharidure. “We would like to see your home.” This was from
the man who seemed to be the leader of the soldiers, a General Ridder. “How long
does the trip take?”
“It took twelve hours on the way down. We stopped twice. The road is not made for
very fast travel.” Colonel Elliot wasn't sure the general had traveled lately in
a Humvee.
“Do you know if there are any small planes available?” Ali was thinking about the
airfield at Sharidure. “There's a small airfield just above the town. A small plane
flew there every week. I know the way by air.”
The Americans talked for a minute. “Yes, there is a small plane a private group uses.
We have used it before. Let's leave in the morning.”
Early in the morning Ali was flying back to Sharidure, telling the pilot the best
route, and about the small airfield. The plane was the same size that Dan and Ali
flew what now seemed so long ago. They flew over Bamiyan and the Buddhas.
Bamiyan Valley ⢠UNO
General Ridder had never seen them. Ali tried to explain how they used to look. There
was a lot in Afghanistan that used to look beautiful, but not now. Soon, the deep
blue lakes of Bondi Amir were below them. The pilot circled to see them better. Ali
was now looking ahead to see his home. He explained to the pilot that he could follow
the river, then circle once to line up with the small runway. The pilot wanted to
fly over it once to get a better idea of how it was. When they flew over the river
next to Sharidure the sound of the plane got everybody's attention. Ali asked the
pilot to waggle the wings, a signal for Shireen, his sister, so she would know Ali
was in the plane and not to worry.
“It's a beautiful, peaceful place,” Ahmroodeen said as he translated both General
Ridder's words and tone.
“Thank you. It's my home.” Ali thought about his home, as the pilot circled the plane
up and away from the river to line up with the small airfield of Sharidure. He thought
about his flights with Dan, the pilot who helped him learn to fly, about the small
hospital where Dr. Hagen changed his life from a crutch to standing on two feet,
about his parents, and about his sister Shireen, his early protector.
After they landed, his thoughts came back to the present, to his wife and children,
and protecting his home and town. There they were, his family, Nafisa, Hassan, Shireen
and Shireen. Hassan and little Shireen ran and skipped up to greet him. He introduced
them to the American general. General Ridder had gifts for them, a baseball cap for
Hassan and a backpack for Shireen. He had done his homework.
The next day, after much planning, and much hopeful talk, Ali waved goodbye to General
Ridder as the plane started down the runway. He walked back down the path to Sharidure,
going home. As he walked, he thought back to his life here, growing up, his parents,
his operation, school,
friends, these were the good things. He also thought about
when he left, the fear, the uncertainty. Now, he was back, and it was the right place
for him and for his family. This was his home, a place he fought for, and if need
be would fight again. It was no longer a faraway home.
Ahmad Nabi
Husband of Ali's sister Shireen
Ahmroodeen
Translator with the U. S. Special Forces
Akbar
Hassan's friend in Mashed
Ali
Main character
Anisa
Akbar's wife
Askgar
Head of mujahedeen in Sharidure
Bibi Jan
Ali's father's mother
Colonel Elliot
American special forces
Dan
the American pilot
Doctor Hagel
Male American doctor
Doctor Hagel
Female American doctor
Dr. Bettinga
Medical officer with the US Special Forces
Farid
Hassan's cousin in Kabul
Hassan
Ali and Nafisa's son
Hassan
Ali's father
Homyoon
Substitute Iranian pilot
Hossein
Friend of Ali growing up
Mariam
Ali's mother
Mohammad
Akbar's son
Naeem
Bamiyan truck driver
Nafisa
Ali's wife
Reza
Iranian pilot
Sara
Akbar's daughter
Sayeed
Carpenter in Muhshed (Ali's father-in-law)
Shireen
Ali and Nafisa's daughter
Shireen
Ali's older sister
Tom
American soldier (All-American wrestler from Nebraska)
aash
- noodle and vegetable soup
bisyar khoub
- very good
kharbooza
- sweet melon
koochi / maldar
- nomad
leeoff
- long floor cushion
Qauzi
- Islamic judge
shafakhona
- hospital
Shia
- one of the main Islamic groups
Sunni
- one of the main Islamic groups
tope danda
- ball game
Bamiyan
- city and province in the area of the Hazara
Bondi-Amir
- series of lakes
Buddha
- two huge statues in Bamiyan
Chaghcharan
- town in central Afghanistan
Chengis Khan
- ancient mongol ruler who conquered Afghanistan
Hazara
- Afghan cultural group
Hazarajat
- area of the Hazara people
Islam Qala
- small town on Afghan / Iranian border
Kabul
- Afghan capital
Muhshed
- eastern Iranian city
Nooristan
- area in Afghanistan
Salang tunnel
- tunnel connecting Kabul with the north
Sharidure
- fictitious town
Shebar Pass
- pass between Kabul and Bamiyan
Tyabad
- Iranian border town
This is about me and about how I came to write this story. My wife is a retired high
school principal. I teach fifth and sixth graders. Our daughter is in college. My
education came first on our farm, and continues in lots of ways. My college degrees
are from the University of Northern Iowa (BA), Columbia University (MA), and the
University of Nebraska (EdD).
I've taught since 1965, taking off two years when I was in the US Army. My first
teaching jobs were in Kabul, Afghanistan, initially with the Peace Corps in an Afghan
high school, and later with schools primarily for children of foreign families living
in Kabul.
For two summers, I worked as a volunteer with a medical group that cared for the
people of central Afghanistan, the setting for this story. I met the main character,
Ali, in the
town that I call Sharidure. He did have a bent knee. He used to race
other kids along the tops of the many walls in the town. The doctors later straightened
his knee.
Except for the army and graduate school, I lived in Afghanistan from 1965 to 1975.
The closest I've gotten back to Afghanistan was to go to Peshawer, Pakistan for two
summers in the early 1990s to write textbooks for Afghan children.
I would like to thank the University of Nebraska at Omaha Center for Afghan Studies
for some of the photos. Other photos are compliments of people who I worked with
in Afghanistan.
The name of Ali's town, Sharidure, was suggested by Yasir, a friend who works at
UNO.
I also want to thank David Martin, who encouraged me to publish this story, and who
did the initial editing.