Street people

Some more shots of the street and its people.

Plastic watering cans.

Standing around!

How many do you count?

Note use of street for walking!

The market just down the road.

Girls in a school uniform . And below - a woman in hers.

Sharp!

They're probably assisting their blue-clad friend across the street. It's difficult to see out of that contraption, particularly if you wear glasses!

The Zoo

Last week I tried to make plans to go to the Kabul Zoo. Zee also wanted to go. It may have been easier to arrange a trip to Mogadishu to walk down the streets naked . Too dangerous. Too many people, too dangerous. Think again.

Apart from the ever-present threat of kidnapping, apparently the zoo is not just for families enjoying the day out, but also a haven for young thugs who are looking for trouble and don't like westerners.

I had to sign a disclaimer saying that I realized I was putting my life (and other lives) at risk. The president of the University had to sign off on it.

We knew that if security wouldn't authorize the trip, we could simply take a taxi. But then, of course, we would have no protection. I think the University tries to accommodate most requests in order to preclude that from happening.

So after jumping through the requisite hoops, we were assigned two escorts (not just one), and told that if anyone attacked us, the escorts would throw us to the ground to protect us. I didn't fancy that.

As it turned out we went on a Saturday, not on Friday, the holiday here. There wasn't much of a crowd and other than being stared at (which happens all the time), it was calm and I think we all had a good time - I did, anyway.

Here's the story of Marjan, the lion, and why I had to go to the zoo.

Marjan was born in 1976 and was donated to the Kabul Zoo in 1978 by the zoo in Cologne, Germany.

Marjan survived years of conflict and ill-treatment in Afghanistan and became something of a symbol of survival against the odds. In 1993 a Taliban fighter, perhaps in a misguided effort to prove his manhood, climbed into Marjan's cage and proceeded to pet Chucha, Marjan's mate. Apparently that didn't sit well with Marjan and he mauled the young man to death. In retaliation the man's brother tossed a grenade into the cage, blinding Marjan and leaving him permanently disabled. But he survived.

And here's part of the BBC story of January 26, 2002:

Lion of Kabul roars his last

Animal welfare teams came too late for Marjan.The 25 year-old beast who was half-blind, lame and almost toothless died of old age only weeks after an international animal rescue mission arrived to help him.

Teams from the World Society for the Protection of Animals took food and medical aid for Marjan and the few other animals have survived at the run-down zoo. They also installed heating and lighting in Marjan's indoor quarters and provided a ramp to help him get in and out. The society said conditions at the zoo had been truly awful. But it paid tribute to zoo staff who had remained (during the troubles) to care for the animals, despite not being paid for several months and being short of food themselves. A poster with pictures of Marjan, displayed at the zoo.

What met us at the entrance. Marjan and friend.The numbered ticket. 100 Afs is about $2. This is a special rate for foreigners; Afghans pay less.

The fountain at the entrance, but not working.

Peacocks but not interested in showing off.

A nice large and wooded area for the ibex (?).
An ostrich that really wanted OUT. He/she kept pecking at the mesh inside the wire.

Working at it!

See the holes. Escape is imminent.

The sign about the Pallas' cat - a cat indigenous to Afghanistan.

This is Zee's shot. It wouldn't pose for me; cats can be quite snooty.

These doves/pigeons had feathered feet. Odd.

A marmot - hanging out.

Closed down when we were there.

The elephant house. The elephant didn't make it through the bad times.

Two bored baboons.

A young man that wanted his picture taken. Totally cool!

A hungry-looking wolf. He didn't just want out, he wanted me!

Unusual.

Porcupines.

A healthy looking grizzly. He lives with a black bear.

Eagles, but not the American variety.

And vultures.

An admonition, I think, not to feed the animals.

The alligator enclosure, but that's not a real alligator.

And here's Afghanistan's only known pig. It was in quarantine until earlier this year because visitors to the zoo were worried it could spread swine flu. The pig is now back in its large shrub-filled enclosure which it shares with two goats.

The pig stares out from his concrete hut and wallows around in his mud puddle...

and the goats munch on the shrubs. All's right with the world.

cheating

First - let me say I have some bright young men and women in my classes who are good students and will be successful in their lives and, hopefully, will bring honor to their families and their country.

On the other hand....

I gave my first test tonight to my two lecture classes. I had been told that cheating was endemic at the University; that it was a big problem! I didn't believe it.

It was suggested that I make two versions of a test for each class since the students sit right next to each other and it is too easy for them to simply glance on their classmate's paper. I did that, but I thought it was just extra work and not really necessary.

It was suggested that I have two different versions of the test for my second class, to preclude the passing of information from class to class. I did that as well. Again, thinking it was a waste of time and the students weren't going to cheat.

Boy was I wrong!

Cheating was rife within the classes and who knows how much information was passed between classes.

One student had his pack open so that he could glance down at his notes as needed. I moved his pack. My colleague said I should have made an example of him and grabbed his paper and told him that he was done with the test and to get out of the classroom. She said I should have made an example out of him. I didn't. My mistake.

Another student called me to his desk multiple times; he sat in the rear of the room. While I was with him, answering his questions, with my back to the rest of the class, another set of students was passing answers back and forth. I know this because when I finally suggested he come to the front if he needed help, another student nodded at me, giving me the idea that I had finally spotted what was going on.

And then there was the behind the hand whispering, the surreptious looks and, of course, the blatant talking. I didn't even think to check what was going on with the cell phones, which I allowed the students to use for their calculator functionality.

And, now, that I have looked at the tests, I found one student who used numbers to solve a problem that were not part of his test; they were on the test version belonging to the student sitting next to him. As is said: cheaters often are not very smart!

My first reaction was anger; now I'm just hurt.

Again, I have many students who are so fine and I'm glad they're in my class. I am really disappointed in several others.

Forgive the rant.

Kabul Museum

On one of the first weekends I was here in Kabul I visited the museum. It sits across the street from the Darulaman Palace.

The Soviets left Afghanistan in 1988. Warring Afghan factions fought for control of the city of Kabul during the 1990's and both the palace and the museum were severely bombed during that time. Looting of the artifacts not destroyed by bombs also decimated the collections.

The Taliban took over the city in 1996 and in early 2001 Mullah Omar ordered the destruction of 'all non-islamic statues and tombs considered offensive to Islam." Destroyed under that edict were the famous (and monumental) Buddha statues at Bamiyan, as well as numerous statues in the Kabul museum.

This was the first place I visited in Afghanistan where I was searched. The men with our party were patted down by the male guards. The women were directed to a curtain-draped hut where an ancient woman smiled and smiled and smiled while she looked in our bags and ran her hands round and about, searching for whatever. That wasn't much fun.

On the other hand, the gardens were beautiful.

Asters.
And roses, of course.This stone reportedly came from Mecca and was carved during the time of the Prophet Muhammad, 14 centuries ago.Here's what's left of one of the trains that ran from Kabul to Darulaman in the 1920's.

(See http://www.andrewgrantham.co.uk/afghanistan/railways/kabul-to-darulaman-railway/ for more info.)

And here's the entrance to the museum.

I didn't take pictures inside. Too sad. Very few exhibits and many of them (or their remains) say 'destroyed in 2001.'

Dari Lessons

Many languages are spoken in Afghanistan. Dari, however, is the lingua franca of Kabul and is widely spoken at the University. Dari is actually Farsi, the language spoken in Iran; the difference, I've been told, is the same as the difference between British English and American English.

We all learn to say 'tashakur' (thank you) right away and 'salam' (hello), but when everyone is speaking another language and you don't understand a word, it is, to say the least, isolating.

So we have a native speaker that is holding three one hour classes a week and lessons started this week. (The University is picking up 50% of the cost.) Dari is supposed to be easy - we'll see.

Anyway, I can now say.

'Man yak ostad hastam. ' (I am a professor.)

'Emrose juma hast.' (Today is Friday.)

'Kabul yak keshwar na hast ; ein yak shaher hast.' (Kabul is not a country; it is a city.)

'And I can (and did) say: 'Derose yak moosh dar daftar-e man bud,' which means 'yesterday a mouse was in my office.'

And there was! He shuffled around for a while in my wastepaper basket. I thought it might be a scorpion ...they do have scorpions here, y'know. I imposed on a male (of course) colleague to help. He moved the basket and a mouse jumped out and hid behind the bookcase. A janitor arrived to move the bookcase; other men arrived to stand around.

Finally the tiniest mouse I've ever seen scooted out of the office into the corridor. Think large palmetto bug but with fur and a tail. I yelped and another teacher (classically) climbed onto her chair.

Here's how we have protected our offices from further incursion by 'moosh haa.' (mice)

I think if the moosh wants in the office, he'll simply chew through that paper. I didn't bring that up since the janitor was so tickled with his solution to the problem. Hopefully by the time I get back to work on Sunday, the critter will have grown up, had babies and died and I won't have anything to worry about except getting rid of a dead moosh.