Coming Up for Air

Have you ever tried holding your breath under water until your lungs begin to burn and your brain starts to send panic signals to the rest of your body? When your face finally breaks the surface of the water, that first, sudden burst of air to your lungs almost hurts, though it brings enormous relief. This is a little how I feel at the end of two exhausting months.

I am afraid this blog entry will not be terribly eloquent as I’m reasonably sure I lack the energy for pretty imagery, but it should serve to catch you all up on life here in the “garden city” of Kabul.

My office spent much of March concentrating on writing a HUGE proposal. Early mornings, late evenings and long weekends were spent, without ceasing, writing, planning and strategizing. Simultaneously, I worked hard to study the language and to maintain some very special friendships. I walked out of the month already feeling pressed and stretched and desperately needing rest.

April was busy and straining in a different sort of way. One friend dubbed it, “the month of loss”. We lost the proposal we had worked so hard on. I lost the housing that I had been counting on. And then there was the most difficult loss – my four closest friends, one each week of the month, left Afghanistan. While I know this is an inevitable part of the expat existence, particularly in Afghanistan where the average stay is probably only a few months, it still hurts and I find myself wondering how to keep giving out my heart and having genuine friendships when goodbyes are always lingering around the edges.

Simultaneous to all of these ‘loses’ was the business of field travel. I love going to the field – being with people in small, remote villages; rumbling across dirt roads; practicing my Dari. But it is exhausting – to the core! 24-7, non-stop work! Your brain must always be turned on and you arrive back with more of an itinerary of things to do than you left with and about a quarter of the energy to do them.

So, at the end of almost four months in Afghanistan, I find I am drained. This is not particularly surprising since everyone hits this point, but it is, nevertheless, difficult. I am trying to work out some way of taking a holiday (a long weekend at least). Thus far, the possibilities include a weekend in the UAE, sitting on a beach and going snorkeling or seeing if I can get to Finland for a week mid-summer to enjoy the peace of my godfather’s cottage.

Saying this makes me feel rather weak – like I’m not really as hard-core as I would like to think of myself – but it is reality. I am tired and need to come up for air soon so that I can go back to being immersed with more energy and vigor.