freakonomics

Well, after finally getting home on Sunday evening and taking yesterday off, I'm back at work, trying to catch up. So far, so okay. Tomorrow and Thursday are going to suck, though.

Also, I kind of hate The Charterhouse of Parma, so I stopped reading it. In DXB I bought Freakonomics, and read the entire thing in the first two hours of my flight home to LHR. My reaction is, "Oh, that's neat." It's like Gladwell but Levitt and Dubner actually seem to know what they're talking about. At one point, maybe in the original NYT story Dubner wrote about Levitt, which is appended, some noted economist says (paraphrase), "I can't find anything wrong with Levitt's work for the life of me. But somehow I still don't believe it." I agree. It's somehow too neat, too self-consciously clever. Still fun and easy to read.

Now I'm finally, finally reading Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy.

lol heathrow

If there is an all-knowing, all-doing god, s/he really does not want me to get home. The kicker came while we were over Europe this morning: a lady on the plane had a medical emergency. Don't know what but I overheard something about tachycardia and they set up an IV drip for her even before we got diverted to London so that she could be taken to a hospital. Because it's a long flight to begin with, regulations about maximum consecutive hours worked by a crew forced everyone off the plane. They rebooked it for 9 AM London time...Monday. So as soon as they let us off the plane I hauled ass to baggage claim and through immigration and got in the "fuck no, you're not taking my ass to some hotel, I'm trying to get home" line. As an aside, I was amazed in the end by how few people picked that route: well fewer than 100 out of our ~300 person flight. At any rate, I'm on the next United flight out, at noon. So instead of arriving home at 6:20 AM on Saturday, I'll be home at 3:20 PM on Sunday. Unless, you know, something else happens.

UPDATE: Also, United gave me 10k free miles or a $250 credit on my next booking with them. I took the latter, thinking to use it on something that I'll earn miles for anyway. I'm closing in on Premier status but those miles wouldn't have helped -- only actual flight miles do. I wonder if I'll be credited for the full DXB-IAD amount and the LHR-IAD amount. First world problems. And United's customer service has been pretty excellent from Friday on. So I have to hand it to them. Still, it'd be nice to be home already.

and i'm off

The rest of today went off without a hitch. Picked up my bags and put them in storage, met up with Jenny at Mall of the Emirates, had a couple of beers and a pizza next to the ski slope, shopped around a bit, checked back in for my flight, and now I'm back in my room getting everything together for the final leg. Can't wait to be home.

slightly better

Things off to a slightly better start today than they ended yesterday. I slept in. The rest calmed me down. I apologize for yesterday's rant. Feels good to do that every once in a while, though.

The Marhaba lady told me I could store my bags in lockers outside the hotel so I don't have to pay the $84. Also, even if I wanted to I couldn't because they don't transfer bags for people on my flight. Whatever. Bought some reasonably-priced (!) socks and a pair of boxers, showered, and I'm ready to go. So I'm going to get my stuff together, leave it in a locker, and see something of Dubai. Plan now is to meet Jenny at Mall of the Emirates, where the indoor ski slope is. Then I've got to come back 5-6 hours before my flight to allow time to check in. Apparently it's a madhouse in the evening.

Anyway, T-25 hours or so until I touch down. Almost there.

fuck united, fuck dubai

Basically the only thing that could have gone wrong on my trip back to the US went wrong: my flight from DXB-IAD was cancelled after I changed it from Sunday to Saturday. The travel agent who'd booked the KBL-DXB flight was out on Thursday so I couldn't change that flight back to Saturday. So now here I am with basically 24 hours in Dubai. Fine, I've only spent a tiny bit of time here, surely I can find some way to kill the day tomorrow. Plus it turns out Jenny, the AKFA director of education, is also going to be here this weekend so we planned to meet up and do something. Fun.

But no. That one major blip, the flight cancellation, has precipitated a bunch of other god damn motherfucking blips that are driving me up the fucking wall and causing me to hate this god damn corrupt hideous greedy shit-eating country. First, I made a reservation at the airport hotel here, because it was extremely last-minute and that seemed like the easiest thing to do. I'll come back to that.

Got to the airport in Kabul, no problem. Flight was a bit delayed, no problem. Got to DXB. Problem. I can't get my bags because the United counter doesn't open until three hours before the flight. There's no way to leave the airport and return, because I can't get my boarding pass until 9:10 tomorrow night. The airport hotel, where I've made my non-refundable reservation, is, as you might guess, in the airport. Therefore, my bags are in storage and I am here paying out the ass for a room in the hotel, with no change of clothes. I can't even go to the gym, because I have no sneakers or shorts or t-shirt. There are loads of hotels outside the airport. Fucking loads. But I can't stay at any of them because I've already paid for this room. Oh, and did I mention it's by the hour? I hadn't realized that, and it's unclear that that's the case when you're making your reservation, so if and when I leave the airport tomorrow, I'll have to check out of the hotel but will still be paying until 11 fucking PM. At which point I'll already be by my gate, waiting to board. Awesome. Oh, and unless I want to lug my bags around with me all day, I have to pay the airport $84 to transfer and store them for me. Courtesy fee, don't you know.
 
In short I'm spending $400 (hotel cost plus luggage transfer fee) to stay at a glorified Holiday Inn in the godforsaken greed capital of the world, all because I was sick and eager to be home and decided at the last minute to change my plans.

Now, the money I've spent will be paid back to me. But on principle it angers me to be gouged so openly, and I'm dreading filling out the expense report and being forced to justify these costs.

And if I hadn't fought for the change, I'd be in Kabul right now. Everything would be fine. That, in the end, is the most frustrating thing of all. I had to work to get the flight pushed up a day. I was so excited to come home early, to see Claire and everyone and my bed and to be in a place where I'm sure the next thing I eat won't prolong my diarrhea. Instead, at almost every turn, something has gone wrong. I'm back on my original flight from Dubai, but much more stressed out and frustrated and disappointed than if I'd never tried to change the ticket at all. To put a, um, dramatic point on it: from "Tragedy: The Basics" (Grand Valley State University):

Tragedy depicts the downfall of a noble hero or heroine, usually through some combination of hubris, fate, and the will of the gods. The tragic hero's powerful wish to achieve some goal inevitably encounters limits, usually those of human frailty (flaws in reason, hubris, society), the gods (through oracles, prophets, fate), or nature. Aristotle says that the tragic hero should have a flaw and/or make some mistake (hamartia). The hero need not die at the end, but he / she must undergo a change in fortune. In addition, the tragic hero may achieve some revelation or recognition (anagnorisis--"knowing again" or "knowing back" or "knowing throughout" ) about human fate, destiny, and the will of the gods. Aristotle quite nicely terms this sort of recognition "a change from ignorance to awareness of a bond of love or hate."

I don't know about noble hero, but the powerful wish, the hamartia, the will of the gods, flaws in society. It's a god damn tragedy in miniature. Not in the sad, "woe is me" sense, although I'm complaining like a champ right now, but in the original dramatic sense. I'm still waiting for the anagnorisis.

There are other, nicer things to report about the last couple of days. But those will have to wait. Right now I have to take a few deep breaths and go buy some socks.

sorry for not posting

Monday and Tuesday were productive, although I was sick very badly on Monday and still getting over it for most of the day on Tuesday. Gross. Feeling better this morning (Wednesday) although I again did not sleep enough last night and my head/neck hurt this morning. Can't wait to get back to my own bed.

Monday was the England-France Euro2012 match, which I for some reason decided I wanted to watch. So Aman, Malashree, Aleeza and I went to a place called Design Cafe, where Aman said he'd seen a TV -- most restaurants don't have them and obviously there are no sports bars in Kabul. Turns out they did have a TV. It was about 13 inches across and ancient, and they brought it out and put it on a stool next to our table. Then the waiter plugged in some rabbit ears and started messing around trying to find a signal. That didn't work very well, so he plugged in his cell phone charger instead! A bit of repositioning and damned if the signal didn't pick up well enough to watch the game. We were all flabbergasted. Note to self: if attempting to watch broadcast TV, cell phone chargers make good alternative antennae.

Tuesday talked to Mom and Dad and Jack in the morning and went to dinner with Aleeza and Raha (from AKFA) at Le Jardin, which was nice. Everything in between was work and emergency bathroom breaks.

Now it's Wednesday and I have the last of my necessary meetings at AKFA at 2 PM. Plugging away at other things, too, and very much looking forward to being home.

some site cleaning

Just revised the link list to the right. Took out some stuff I no longer look at, added a few new things, most notably Ta-Nehisi Coates, whose blog at the Atlantic is truly awesome.

UPDATE: Also, in doing some research yesterday about SMS-based early warning systems, I found and began geeking out over the work of a guy named Patrick Meier and an organization he's affiliated with called Ushahidi. I'm still just learning and trying to wrap my head around it but long story short: crowd-sourced mapping of crises. Links added to the right. I want to do THAT.

flu? or just the food?

Went to bed tired and frustrated last night for inability-to-work-out reasons. I did end up stretching for 30-40 minutes in my room, which is good but not a substitute for the real thing. Fell asleep around 10:30 having muddled my way through a few more pages of The Charterhouse of Parma and woke up at...wait for it...4:30 in the damn morning. For an emergency bathroom trip. Spent the next two hours trying to go back to sleep but mostly unable to because of a combination of getting up every 30-45 minutes to visit the toilet and generalized whole-body discomfort. I say whole body but it's been focused so far mostly in my hips (???) and head and neck. I don't think I have a fever but this feels like more than just food/water poisoning.

Oh well, gotta suck it up and try to get on with the day. Talked with Claire for half an hour or so, which was nice but I was too out of it to be much of a conversationalist (sorry Claire). Then ate breakfast -- the yogurt I picked up yesterday was an excellent, excellent choice -- and now I'm here at FOCUS. Going to leave in a few minutes to register with the Ministry of the Interior Foreign Affairs, which Gul Ahmad and Aziz and I laughingly realized yesterday I haven't yet done. Oops. It was cool to spend some time with each of them yesterday: Gul Ahmad on my errands and Aziz later on as we waited for the car to come back and drive us home. Aziz in particular has quite a life story, although not a terribly uncommon one by Afghan standards. To give a glimpse: in the late '90s he and his family fled to Karachi and lived in a tent for a year and a half. He spent his whole late childhood and teens in Pakistan before coming back to Afghanistan six or seven years ago.

Later on this morning I'll go over to AKF and try to sort out the rest of the week from their side. If I still feel like garbage I might go home early and try to rest. No sleep though. Not trying to fuck with my sleep schedule any more than strictly necessary.

kabulabulabul

Things going well so far in Kabul. Hung out with Tameeza for a while in the courtyard at the PP and who should walk by right after we sat down but Aman, ex-CHF and ex-AKF Mozambique. He was on his way to check out a house, as he just moved here three weeks ago. But he stayed for a bit and then hung out some more after looking at the place. Tameeza had dinner plans so Aman and I ended up at a French place owned by real live French people. It showed, the food was good.

Woke up at 6:45 to a surprise alarm on the phone FOCUS gave me. That was good because the car came earlier than I expected, so with the early wake up I had time to shower and eat a bowl of cereal. The FOCUS office is unchanged other than some desk/office rearranging, and I've spent the morning going through emails and reviewing with Aleeza the feedback we got on Friday on our proposal. Seems straightforward for the most part. We'll have a conference call later this afternoon to figure out a few of the thornier issues.

At lunch today Gul Ahmad, one of the admin guys, took me to buy a jump rope and some yogurt -- I left my rope in Islamabad and the breakfast cereal at the hotel needs help that the room-temperature parmalat-style milk can't provide.

Time to get back to work, I'm still going through emails from last Friday. Pleased that I resisted doing any work yesterday, though.

sweet, bitter baby

Ruby is now head of FOCUS Afghanistan. Apparently one of the first things she did was to evaluate and rectify the caffeine situation in the office. There is a proper drip coffee machine and proper ground coffee. It's Starbucks, but oh man am I ever not complaining about that for once.

Hallelujah.

yesterday's post

=== Posting from FOCUS offices ===

Writing this from my room in the Park Palace guest house in Kabul. There wasn't any space in the AKF guest house so they shifted me over here and, despite my apprehensions, it's fine. Judging by lunch, the food is marginally better than the AKF guest house. But that's a pretty low bar and I will not be ordering the cheeseburger again. Also, Nescafe. One of mankind's greatest abominations against god.

Yesterday was Caryn's birthday, which we got started an hour early or so, with beers on the odd little deck outside her room at the Serena. I was, lamely, too tired to make it to midnight for a proper kickoff. But no worries. Yesterday (Friday, I have to remind myself) was a kind of a microcosm of the trip. Productive meeting with the OFDA rep to start things off, which covers the productive nature of the trip. Then ran into Rebecca, Andwele, Andrew and some of the other AKFA crew who were in ISB to attend Kevin's wedding. Did some work then went over to the PHF office to meet with Claire, PHF's Coordinator. Got back around 3 feeling a bit queasy, which covers the off-and-on slightly-out-of-it-plus-vague-

digestive-discomfort feeling of the trip. Lay down for a bit, ate a pizza -- tasty but too cheesy -- and then Caryn and I went out to Super Market for some shopping. She needed gifts for some family and I just kind of went along to see what was what. Importantly, I found a perfect suitcase for the stupidly large picture frame I bought the other day. The thing is very wide and can be expanded vertically by zipping or unzipping various zippers. Made packing a heck of a lot easier.

That paragraph was boring but necessary.

Caryn's birthday dinner was nice if a bit odd: we were joined by a friend of a friend of hers, to whom Caryn had brought a specific kind of dental floss. It ended up being a nice dinner but just a little awkward to have the two of us dining with a complete stranger. The hotel brought some cake to the table at the end, my first positive experience ever with coconut creme.

Then packed, slept very little due I think to nerves over making my flight, woke at 4, and made it to the airport in plenty of time. The flight was fine, just one notable thing: A guy got on with what I presume were his three wives. All three were evidently young, judging by their hands and eyes, which were the only parts they had uncovered, and the eyes only on two of them. At least one spoke quite good English, judging by the fluidity with which she pronounced, "I won't sit next to a man." The man's seat was next to mine, so I and two other guys on our row moved in order to let the quartet have that row to themselves. This is, needless to say, not something you see every day, even in Afghanistan. I've got to repeat that I don't know whether that's what this group was. It could have been father, mother and two grown daughters. The one I took to be the most senior -- she had a rather beautifully decorated niqab, contrasted with the plain black of the other two, and sat next to the man while the other two sat across the aisle -- had very different coloration and eye shape from the others, for one thing.

My ignorance of family relations in a polygamous family is absolute and based on assumptions and nothing else. Makes me want to learn more about polygamy in Afghanistan and the Muslim world more broadly.

At any rate, immigration and customs took a while. I couldn't find my checked bag, the aforementioned large accordion, and was about to get pissed when it turned up in a pile off in a corner. Whatever. After that it was smooth sailing. Karim Bakhsh met me in the building by parking lot C. I experienced a little rush of affection at seeing him again. I don't know why, because we can't communicate beyond "Hello" and "How are you" and the names of destinations, but there's just something gentle, friendly, earnest about him. Something in the way he goes about his business, something in his face -- he smiles more than most people here. Whew, getting nearer to purple territory. As I said, genuine affection. The guy was a military driver, too, decades ago, as I learned last year. So perhaps part of it is imagining some of the shit he must have seen, that he comes across the way he does in spite of that.

Check-in at the Park Palace was without incident. My room is small but fine and has the wardrobe I wish I had at home -- imagine, being able to hang shirts up side-by-side instead of front-to-back. I lay down for a while and tried to get some sleep but only managed to doze for a couple of hours. Woke up with the beginnings of a caffeine-and-hunger headache, ate the aforementioned lunch, and here I am. Tameeza's on her way over to hang out for a bit, which will be nice. It's good to know people here outside of work, because otherwise it could get awfully boring. At least the TV is more varied than in the Serena.

Oh, last thing: I finished Awakenings. It stayed stunning and masterful until the penultimate appendix, in which Sacks discusses the various film, radio and stage adaptations of the book. The section is a bit boring to begin with, and then he starts name dropping "Bob" DeNiro and Robin Williams and it just gets irritating. I skipped the last few pages and went right to the glossary. And then I was done. With that, I think I'll go outside and get started on The Charterhouse of Parma while I wait for Tameeza. The courtyard is actually pretty nice, if not without its Afghan quirks, and it's lovely out. More on the quirks when I get a chance to take some photos.

last day in islamabad and a strange song

They brought me coffee this morning. Excellent. I've got a meeting with OFDA in about an hour for which I am pretty well prepared. Been up since 8 consolidating some notes, reading Dawn, messing around on the internet, and listening to music. Very civilized morning. More on the music in a second.

There has been, in the paper, a bizarre saga over the last week about a group of girls in Kohistan, which is on the way to Skardu by road, who were allegedly executed at the hands of a tribal jirga for dancing with boys at a party -- no, clapping while boys danced at a party. This has provoked outrage and demands for an investigation but a strange lack of actual facts, including whether or not the girls were actually dead. The headline today is that investigators have told the Supreme Court, which had demanded the investigation, the girls are actually alive and safe. The story is bizarre on a number of counts: (1) that news about girls being killed for clapping at a party could be treated with anything but baffled apoplexy reveals just how fucked-up this country's attitudes are toward women, even among relative liberals; (2) that the Supreme Court can order investigations of specific criminal acts by anyone, anywhere; (3) that reports of girls being killed would make it into the paper for several days in a row without anyone actually knowing whether they were dead. On point (1), as I mentioned, the story has been met with outrage from some quarters but reported on with equanimity in the relatively West-friendly Dawn, as if this is something that just happens. Oh, yeah, a group of elderly assholes decided some girls should die for enjoying dancing. Then they followed through. That's a thing.

Incidentally, the Chief Justice's son is currently under investigation for accepting bribes from a real estate developer in exchange for convincing his father to go easy on the developer. The CJ has not recused himself yet from the case, which evidently went straight to the Supreme Court without being heard at lower levels. One of these days someone will have to explain the actual organization of the "legal" Pakistani "justice" system to me. All one can gather from Pakistan: A Hard Country and spending any time here is that it's hopelessly corrupt.

On to that music. Gabby posted the other day on his (and his friend Josie's) tumblr, which I will add to my links as soon as I finish writing this, a rather pretty, soulful song by one Charles Manson. Yes, that Charles Manson. He sounds like a talented undergraduate singing primarily to get girls and probably succeeding. But this was recorded to raise money for his defense. Listen for yourself, and tell me that your mind isn't blown.

exercise = best

Last couple of days I've felt like crap, in case you haven't been able to tell. I didn't have a real workout in me just now but I made myself walk up to the gym and do half an hour or so of jump rope, calisthenics and stretching. And now I feel better in all kinds of ways. My head is clearer; I'm happy with myself for following through on my plan to exercise, even if I didn't do all I'd hoped; my muscles are warm and loose. Go me.

no tajikistan, no badakhshan

The Afghanistan portion of my trip was briefly thrown into turmoil this week, as it turns out Noor is going to Dushanbe, Tajikistan, and then Khorog, Tajikistan and Ishkashim, Afghanistan for cross-border meetings. He suggested that I come along for all or part. That sounded fantastic and I was getting all geared-up to cram my non-FOCUS meetings into two days at the end of next week. But then he checked the dates and it turns out the Khorog/Badakhshan part wouldn't start until the day before I leave. So much for that. One of those episodes where I wouldn't have anything to be disappointed about if the possibility had never arisen. But once it did...well, silly to get my hopes up, it was obviously a long shot from a logistical standpoint alone.

Next time, I'd definitely like to leave more time for a such a trip. Well, next time I'm over here I might spend mostly in Tajikistan. Crossing into Badakhshan would be almost mandatory in that case.

Anyway, things are swimming along otherwise. Today was mostly work-focused so not much interesting to report. Caryn and I did break out of the hotel this afternoon to go to Pak Turk for some shopping, which was nice. She bought a chest of drawers! Bit more complicated to get home than even a rug.

My benadryl headache continues (it's 7:30 PM) but I'm going to go to the gym in a bit and see what I can get done. Then maybe hit up Caryn for one of her Harry Potter DVD's.

Tomorrow morning, chat with M&D!

idiot

I'm so frustrated with myself at the moment that I could cry. I got really tired around 7:30 so I closed my eyes for a bit. Napped. Woke up around 8:30, no problem. Then I got up, went to the bathroom, lay back down, and now it's 1:30 AM and I'm wide fucking awake. Unbelievable. What is wrong with me.

Took two benadryl and hopefully that'll be enough to knock me back out relatively soon, because otherwise it's going to be a very, very long day.

UPDATE

I slept from 2:30-9. OOPS. That means I slept roughly 11 hours last night, albeit not continuously. Weird. Also, Caryn has been talking about a benadryl "hangover." Didn't know what she meant until just now.

from the department of tmi

You should not click on the following link unless you are comfortable with knowing too much about my current state.

Ouch.

raptor

There was a huge hawk or falcon on the patio outside the buffet restaurant this morning while we were eating breakfast. It was cool.

museday

Now that we're not going to Skardu, we spent a good chunk of yesterday figuring out what to do with the rest of the week. Part of that was figuring out whether I might be able to go to Skardu, if just for the launch ceremony on Thursday (the US ambassador is going!), but my flight for Kabul is at 7 AM on Saturday so that's really not an option. You can't go unless you have a buffer of time on the end to get back. The planes just don't fly in bad weather or in the dark, so you can be stuck for two, three, four days while you wait for a flight. Not an option right now. C'est la vie.

So we've got some meetings, and some documents to prepare and review, and of course the normal work from home that I guess we won't be as behind on as we otherwise might have on a trip.

We were at work pretty late last night and then I went to the gym. Rest-pause is an efficient way to set up hypertrophy-focused weight lifting. You get a lot of reps in at a moderate weight in a relatively short amount of time. There are a bunch of variations but they're all predicated on using a weight that you can do for 10-12 reps, 15 tops, for the first set. The leg press here does not have enough weight to limit me to that. This is more a consequence of the equipment here being inadequate than of my strength: 190kg is simply not a lot of weight if you don't have to stabilize it. Therefore it ends up being more a muscular endurance thing, which is fine but meant that it set me up to feel a wee bit nauseous by the end of the workout. Well, it feels good to have worked hard. My jump rope skills are improving, too.

Just ordered room service last night and watched the first appealing thing other than Al Jazeera or BBC that's been on since I arrived: the SEC track and field championships. Random as hell, but whatever. I enjoyed it. Then sleep. This morning talked to Claire, which is a nice way to wake up, and now it's time for breakfast.

food

The food is generally pretty bland and inoffensive at the Serena. But Caryn and I just went to the (new?) pan-Asian place that you walk past on the way to the business complex -- where AKF is -- and man that was some spicy-good pad thai. Nice.

The food at the Marriott, where we went last night, is still better. Cream of fennel soup, australian filet mignon, and apple crumble with red wine of some sort. One of the better steaks of my life. Like butta.

Anyway, sleep now, early morning tomorrow to see if we can get another flight. If we can't, improv.

thwarted

My third attempt to go to northern Pakistan was foiled by bad weather. It's beautiful here in Islamabad, albeit still pretty freaking hot, but Skardu is experiencing intermittent thunderstorms. We sat on the plane for an hour, then got off and sat in the terminal for an hour and a half, and finally they cancelled the flight. Better safe than sorry. So I'm back in the Serena.

It's mighty disappointing, because I was looking forward to seeing Baltistan and because it would have been nice to fulfill the second half of the training. As it is we'll have to improvise. But that can wait until tomorrow. Right now I'm going to damn pool.

some new muzak

The lobby of the Serena, when the tabla and sitar player aren't there, is filled with the soulless blowings of some anonymous smoove-jazz saxophonist playing bland muzak on an endless loop. I don't think it's changed at all since last year. Not sure what happened to the piano player from last year -- he of the three song repertoire.* In the scheme of things bland lobby music is a pretty tiny complaint.

Just got a shave at the spa, which was nice. Forty minutes and PKR 700 (including a 60% tip, about $7.50) well spent. The guy wasn't as chatty as my barber last year, mostly because his English wasn't great. Catholic, though, which is unusual. 

Seems the jet lag is not gone: I woke up at 5:15 this morning and have been awake ever since. That'll teach me: sleep aids the first three nights at least when traveling this far east. Oh well, I feel fine anyway.

A lazy breakfast spent reading Dawn was, to borrow yesterday's adjective du jour, informative. Lots of talk about the budget that the PPP -- the current ruling party -- just presented, and the drama that ensued when members of the opposition PML-N rushed the stage during the Finance Minister's budget speech. I wish there were more fights in Congress. Britain and its former colonies seem to have much more fun with their legislative bodies. There was also a letter to the editor about Pakistan's need to incorporate disaster risk reduction into school curricula throughout the country, and an announcement of two new weather stations to monitor the glacial lakes in Gilgit-Baltistan. Things to keep track of that I'd never have heard about in the States.

The most arresting piece, though, was an op/ed by Irfan Husain entitled "How Low Can We Go?"

For years, others and I have been writing about Pakistan's low standing in the community of nations.

Thanks to a recent BBC survey on how popular various countries are around the world, we now know just how low we have sunk.

According to this poll...Pakistan is joint last, together with Iran. One place above us is North Korea, and fourth from the bottom is Israel. This, then, is the company we are keeping in the eyes of the world.

...The reality -- whatever the overheated fantasies of armchair warriors and studio supermen -- is that Pakistan is a wretchedly poor, violent and increasingly isolated country.

In short, we need all the help we can get to dig ourselves out of the hole we are in. To this end, we constantly hold a begging bowl in one hand. However, we also hold a gun in the other: occasionally it points at others, and the rest of the time it is held to our own head.

He goes on,

$18bn in aid later, Americans see us as not only helping hte Taliban, but also seeking to profit from the war in Afghanistan. Even friends of Pakistan such as John Kerry and Hillary Clinton are appalled by the hysterical level of anti-Americanism they see in our media, as well as in the actions and statements of supposedly responsible politicians and officials.

...From our support of Islamic extremism to our appalling treatment of women and minorities, the world has seen a country tearing itself apart in the name of religion...Worse, we are widely viewed as the epicentre of Islamic militancy, training and motivating foreigners to commit mayhem in their own countries.

Our paranoid worldview has convinced vast numbers of Pakistanis that the rest of the world is out to get us. But what most foreigners would really like to happen is for Pakistan to just somehow vanish, together with all the headaches it is causing in the world.

Husain is angry and despairing about his own country. He's certainly right about Pakistani paranoia, which is something comes up again in Pakistan: A Hard Country, and which people talk about openly here and in the States. The piece is a very strong reminder that countries are never monolithic entities, that dissent exists everywhere. When we talk about "Pakistan", we're using the word as a kind of synecdoche for an extraordinarily complex entity. Not exactly a novel insight, that, but it's important to remember because it encourages subtlety and modesty when thinking about other countries and their people.

=== Brilliant segue! ===

It's 11:30. On the docket for the rest of the day: A bit of work, a trip to the gym, lunch, some time by the pool, and that's it.

*"Candle in the Wind," "Bridge Over Troubled Water," and "My Heart Will Go On."

training day 2

Slept like a baby last night. Thank goodness. Talked to Claire this morning for a while, which was great -- it really is incredible that, 8,000 miles away, we can see each other talk in real time.

Day two of the training was fine. We got a little feedback on day 1: "informative" was the modal adjective. Then we delved into communications, branding and marking. Deeply fascinating stuff, I assure you. But it seems that our colleagues appreciated it, and that's all that counts, really. We wrapped up the training around 12:15 and then Caryn and I did a bit of work, ate lunch, and came back over for a kind of pointless but eventually interesting meeting with a couple of USAID Pakistan ag guys.

One of them spent the whole time talking to Karim about project-specific issues. The other one got bored with that -- as, frankly, did Caryn and I -- and we ended up talking with him about a bunch of other stuff. He has an exceptionally low view of Dep. Sec. of State Nides and of Raj Shah and was franker about that than any active AID employee I've ever spoken to. It was a bit hilarious, honestly, and it was cool to hear an insider's view of how the capriciousness and ignorance of the big bosses trickles down and hinders his work.

After that, did some more work, went to the pool, talked to Mom, went to the gym, ate dinner and drank some beer, talked to Dad, and now I'm going to sleep. Tomorrow is an off day, although I do have some work to do. And stuff.