Goodbye to Afghanistan

I'm at the Kabul airport, and I feel knackered. The last few days have been a non-stop barrage of errands, last-minute assignments and tearful goodbyes. It has been wonderful and exhausting. In the pit of my heart, I feel guilty about leaving. I have the freedom to come and go and those whom I have come to love and appreciate must stay no matter how the security situation evolves. Even though now is the right time: I'm big enough to tire easily and don't have access to good medical facilities should I have any urgent need of them. I'm very much looking forward to the safety of landing in Europe.

Before I left Kabul, I had a strong, unexplainable desire to visit Tariq's grandmother's grave. She's resting on a humble promontory with a lovely view of military hill and its old clay fort, overlooking the sprawl of low-lying homes built into the slope. Taimonie was enveloped in a haze of sun-kissed warmth. As I sat on the rectangular white marble box marking her grave, I could feel her friendly spirit. A single, jubilant red poppy poked out of the mound of earth in her grave-box. I felt this need for her to be close to her great grandchild before we left. I think she knew. At the airport, it was hard to say goodbye to Tariq's grandfather. All I could do was squeeze his gnarled, big hands with tenderness to convey my appreciation for his kindred spirit and his kindness to us throughout the past 15 months.

My goodbye gathering at Taverna, Kabul's lebanese restaurant, was fabulous. There was a collegial mix of Afghans and friends from all over the world, and the great felafels, tabouleh, dolmanthes, humous and baba ghanoush that had become staples over the last months. My friend Nadir smuggled in a bottle of Crown Royal to add to the festivities, which resulted in Tariq drunkenly blowing smoke-rings from a sheesha pipe at the end of the evening. Under the soft strawberry scent of the hookah, we girls yakked and enjoyed a most amazing chocolate cake with a big letter "B" in rainbow sprinkles and two sparklers as big as rocket launchers.

The national staff at Peace Dividend Trust also gave me a warm and sad seeing-off. On my second last day of work, my training assistant Rawaj organized a feast at his family home and his mothers were working all morning to make a delicious miscellany of Afghan favorites: fried chicken, kabouli palau (long-grained rice adorned with cooked, shredded carrot, raisins, pistachios and almonds and flavored with chunks of lamb), shorwa soup and yogurt, sabsi spinach and others. I had passed on my wish to the group to see them do some real Afghan dancing, and so all the young men brought cassette tapes with their favorite songs and danced. It was great!

The festivities continued the next day - my last day in the office. When I came to the office, all the national staff were wearing traditional shalwar kameez and some even their brilliant beaded traditional Afghan hats. They danced the traditional Pashtun Atan; one sang a solo of the hindi song "Never Say Goodbye"; and they presented me with a beautiful hand-embroidered kuchi dress that they had all pitched in to buy. It was a feast of love and camaraderie, and I felt proud of the work atmosphere that I had a part in creating.

My Country Director Shirine also held a wonderful goodbye dinner with some of my closest friends in Afghanistan. We savored the roast chicken with lemon and garlic, Tariq savored the port (apparently we have a shared love of port, which I just discovered) and my dear friend Kristi brought banana cake with an amazing cream cheese frosting. My last day in the country was spent saying goodbye to Tariq's extended family and sharing a last cup of tea. Through it all I felt so loved and appreciated - there were so many people with whom I formed a strong connection. I know I will have many great people to keep in touch with as they continue their adventures in Afghanistan.