THE CLOTHES MAKE THE MAN

 Growing up I heard a saying “Clothes Make the Man.” I really didn’t give that saying much thought then. I knew there was an expense difference between different brands of clothes, becoming apparent to me when I was in seventh and eighth grades. Some kids had the more expensive Pendleton shirts while I could not leading to being made fun of for not having the “Name Brand” plaid shirt.

Entering business after college someone suggested that I read the book “Dress for Success” by John T. Molloy, to learn how to dress for business with the effect of clothing on a person’s success. I was told you only have one shot at giving a first impression as clothes can tell something about your character. How many times do we dress a certain way to be unique or to fit in?

In Afghanistan, traveling off base is commonly referred to as traveling “Outside the Wire”.  I needed to wear different clothes to fit in for different missions.  A military uniform when traveling with the US Military, civilian clothes when traveling with US Army Public Affairs, and Afghan clothes on other occasions, etc. Some clothes were given as gifts for being a friend and some for my own protection.

The style of Afghanistan clothing has changed over the decades of wars and invasions and influences of neighboring countries. Current Afghan men’s clothing is a mix of all types of clothing including a mix of western and Afghan styles. Islamic law is generally interpreted to require loosely fitting clothes.

Afghan men cover their heads with different types of hats, each one having a particular name such as the Kararkul, made of lamb skin (was worn by Afghan President Karzai and a past King of Afghanistan).  Or a Pakol, a soft rounded-topped hat in earthly colors of brown, black, grey, ivory and red, made of wool (was worn by Tajik leader Ahmad Shah Masood.)  And Turbans made of silk or cotton, wrapped around their heads and are tied differently in different Afghan Regions.

CIVILIAN / AFGHAN DRESS

In Afghanistan my civilian clothes varied from time to time. When traveling to different locations I tried to blend in and not draw attention to myself. Fortunately for brown-haired, blue-eyed me, there is a Northeastern tribal area in Afghanistan known as Nuristan in which the people have lighter complexions with lighter hair and many times blue eyes. The men are about my stature of 6 foot and look much like myself. The Local belief is these people are descendants of Alexander the Great. So going on missions to this area, I would wear my Pakol hat, Afghan scarf and vest.

My favorite experience was in Nuristan as we sat down to meet with some local Nuristani, I was told by my interpreter to NOT talk. Because of my looks, the locals thought I was also a Nuristani Interpreter because I was dressed like the other Interpreters, then my interpreter had me talk and the locals where shocked to hear me speak.  We all laughed and at first they thought I was German because of the earlier presence of Germans in that area. I explained I was mostly Scandinavian (Swede, Dane, etc) with a small amount of German in me. We all had a great laugh talking about our cultures, families and the War over cups of Chai Tea. Here I was half way around the world and found I had more in common than I would have ever believed.

One of the best days I had in Afghanistan was with my new Afghan/Nuristan friends. We were at the top of this mountain where the scenery was unbelievable.  Standing at 8,000 feet with snow capped mountains all around us, and deep green valleys and rivers below  anddddd just a stones throw away from Pakastan.  We talked about the future of Afghanistan and the tribes in Afghanistan traditionally fighting against each other throughout history and how was that ever going to change? One had an interesting comment,  “look at the United States, it has tribes from all over the world moving to America and they all get along.” In his mind the Germans, English, French, Irish, Swedes, Chinese, Japanese, Koreans, Africans etc, were all different tribes and yet because of our type of government we all get along. Hmmmmm… His dream for Afghanistan was for that - to be like America, with all the tribes getting along. I bet not many people look at Afghanistan in that way, I sure didn’t. I had to go half way around the world to get this perspective. 

MILITARY DRESS 

Since I had never been in the military, I had to learn the different types of US Military camouflage uniforms and how often they are changed out. I had no idea how to correctly wear the uniforms. Even the military had different names for certain clothes, such as a shirt is called a blouse. This all seemed so strange to me plus required me to endure another fast track learning curve. My Military uniform education began with my job in the US Army Corps of Engineers deployment complex in Virginia. 

From the get go I stood out because of my lack of military knowledge and now was issued a different uniform than the rest of my classmates as I was being assigned to a combat unit going outside the wire.  All my classmates were issued the DCU’s the Desert combat uniform, commonly referred to by some as chocolate chip because of the beige color with darker brown splotches looking like giant chocolate chips. My uniform was called a UCP which stands for Universal Camouflage Pattern. The color scheme for the UCP uniform is a Sandy gray green camo pattern.  Then once I arrived in Afghanistan I was issued the MultiCam uniform which looked more of a muddy brown/green pattern, so I would have the same uniform as the rest of the military soldiers escorting me.  The strategy is the UCP uniforms were issued to the Afghan interpreters as they believe the Taliban snipers target the interpreters first.  OK, soooo the UPC’s are not a good look for old Mr. Rich. On a side note, I had a letter stating I was allowed to wear the combat Multi-Cam uniform.  On the larger bases, on more than one occasion, I was challenged by military personal, that I was not supposed to be wearing that particular uniform as a civilian, which I presented the letter and continued on my way.

I was lovingly referred to by my military comradres “a silly civilian” as all this dress code made my head spin.  From this point on I kept a notebook with all the military acronyms.

“Clothes do make the man” and how I dressed in Afghanistan could mean a matter of life and death.

My hope is that my book opens eyes to the reality in Afghanistan. “ONE BRICK at a TIME” by Rich Walton, available at https://www.onebrickatatimepress.com

COVID 19 & Taliban - STOP EDUCATION!

 

 As I look over the 2^nd grade classroom I’m teaching today, I am reminded how lucky we are to be in America for the simple fact if the girls in class lived in Taliban controlled areas of Afghanistan they would not be allowed to attend school.

 In America, COVID 19 has kept children out of school in certain areas as we are risking everyone’s health.  In Afghanistan, because of their beliefs, the Taliban will not hesitate to kill or maim girls being educated and the teachers who are teaching them.  Both situations require parents to weigh the risks involved in sending their girls and children to school.

 Under Taliban rule girls are not allowed to be educated over the age of 8. The Taliban have attacked girls going to school by throwing hand grenades into the schools or throwing acid in girl’s faces and even poisoning the water wells at the schools. In the eyes of the Taliban, a woman is an object they can control, and should girls get an education they will want rights as women and as human beings.  This results in girls seeking an education by attending hidden underground schools, where they and their teachers know they risk EXECUTION if caught.

 I spent 4 years as a contractor in Afghanistan helping to build separate girl and boy schools, living, eating and sleeping in remote areas under the constant threat of Taliban attacks, to make the school construction happen. Since many Afghan adults cannot read or write, they wanted the schools.  As they explained to me, they understood the opportunities education opened up for their children. Working hand in hand with the workers gave me a whole new appreciation to the dedication of the Afghan people to complete these schools for their girls.

  Afghan Teachers often find it difficult to provide quality education with the lack of supplies and resources, because they are hired with inadequate levels of training and education, and it pays very little. There are many complex factors making it more difficult for girls to get an education than one would think. Besides the obvious of Taliban attacks, I found there to be a lack of female teachers, especially in rural areas where women from one tribe do not want to teach a different tribe.  Also, there’s a huge language barrier between the different tribes with two main languages of Dari and Pashto in Afghanistan.  And even within the same language Afghans who speak Pashtun in Kabul told me they have difficulty understanding the Southern Pashtun language from the south of Kabul.

 Since Afghanistan is a tribal society, there are also cultural differences. I like to compare these tribal conflicts similar to the tribal and cultural conflicts between the different American Indian tribes.

 One huge problem is that many children have to work.  Some boys I knew were the sole provider for their family’s income, working in the Bazaar or picking up garbage on bases.  Girls typically make money by weaving or tailoring, or some sell items on the street.  Also, many girls marry before the age of 15 and then discontinue their own education.

 Another problem I discovered is that Afghan Schools have a lack of sanitation for girls, such as, no indoor running water or access to clean and safe restrooms. The schools have a separate brick Latrine building with no water and no toilets, just a hole in the floor.  Some schools I built had no heat and none had indoor plumbing.  Only the main school building would have minimal electricity for a few lights. There was generally a water well at the school, some only with a manual hand pump and a few with an electric well pump.

 I was asked on an interview for a magazine about my thoughts on the Afghanistan War. My reply was and still is today, “The only way Afghanistan will survive is through education. We’re making a difference here by ensuring women in Afghanistan can get an education without worrying about interference from the Taliban”. Thankfully, in the larger cities like Kabul and Herat, girls are able to continue their education.

 One of my favorite projects in Afghanistan was the Herat University Women’s dorm. There had to be a way that parents outside the city would feel comfortable in sending their daughters to college and know they would be safe.  This newly constructed dormitory would be the solution to allow educational opportunities for women. Surrounded by a 15 foot rock wall with security guards at the entrance, the dormitory provided a secure refuge for female students to pursue college without fear of punishment from the Taliban. As with most projects of this type there were continuous hurdles to completing the project. Such as even the local police trying to shut down the construction for one reason or another, materials stolen, workers threatened, (therefore not showing up for work), and even armed attacks.

I felt fortunate being able to help out with the building of Girls and Boys schools in Afghanistan all the while amidst danger.  The goal was to help create an educated population that can build better lives for the children of Afghanistan. My biggest challenge now is being able to relate these stories to American students in the hope they realize how lucky they are to live in America and welcomed to get an education.  Just like I worked amidst Afghan danger to get the job done, now during COVID 19, I’m proud to stand alongside our teachers and staff to make sure education happens.

 My hope is that my book opens eyes to the reality in Afghanistan. “ONE BRICK at a TIME” by Rich Walton, available at https://www.onebrickatatimepress.com

MAGIC PENCIL

Since my return from Afghanistan, I am a substitute teacher for grades K-12 with most of my time spent in grades 4-6. It is a constant struggle for me to figure out how to keep my students engaged, under control and interested in what I am presenting and when I ask them to do something and the child replies “why?” the response like a parent of “because I say so” doesn’t carry much water in the classroom as a sub. How different from what I experienced in Afghanistan.

 What I saw, experienced and learned in my 4 years in Afghanistan as a civilian contractor from building schools, living and working with the local people experiencing the daily trials and fears unimaginable to most Americans and then seeing the impact these schools made on the Afghan children’s lives where the children are craving to learn and do whatever it takes to get to school even if it consists of walking miles in hand-me-down sandals or threats from the Taliban.

 When I feel my class losing interest and control, I like to settle them down by telling them stories of my time in Afghanistan.  One of my favorite stories is “the magic Pencil”.  I ask the students “what do you think was the most asked for item from me by the children at the school construction sites?”  Their answers are “money, food, water, clothes.” Yes, All good answers! at which time I pull a pencil out of my pocket and hold it up in the air and state “it was a pencil!”  

 Why would it be a pencil? In Afghanistan, many children cannot read or write and they have seen the pencil and pen touch paper or wood or anything and do magical things wherever their hand leads it.  As I would go out to projects in villages, whether it was building a school, Medical clinic or some other structure, I was amazed that within a few minutes of arrival to the site I would be swarmed by Afghan children of all ages. I’d always wonder, where did all these kids come from and how did they know I was here. Even sites that were way out in the desert or mountains within minutes of my arrival there would be all these children. Where did they come from? No matter the weather…Scorching sun or Freezing cold, as soon as I arrived at the job site, got out of the vehicle, or walked from the helicopter, I’d be immediately surrounded by a mass of children asking for water, money, typical things, but the NUMBER ONE item I was asked for was a writing pen or pencil.

 At first I couldn’t believe this. Remember that it is believed that 80% of the Afghan people, including adults, cannot even read or write their own language. The children did not speak English but they sure knew the word “PEN”. It seemed odd to me at first that they cherish this one item the most. Why would they want a PEN of all things? Was it to sell the pen or pencils in the bazaar? No.  I learned from an Afghan interpreter that to many of these children who could not read or write, the Pen was Magic. It was a Magical instrument, like a Harry Potter Magic Wand that could do Magical things like write or draw.

 So, when I traveled in Afghanistan, I began to carry lots of pens and pencils for the children.  But there was a downside when the children changed from a friendly group to a shark feeding frenzy, surrounding me pushing and shoving, grabbing and pulling on my back pack and clothes. Like sharks trying to tear me apart just to get a PEN. Even in small crowds I had to make sure I had no pens, pencils or anything hanging on my body that someone could grab. I had to make sure all my zippers on my back pack were closed and not easily opened. I was once mobbed by a group of Afghan children when one boy actually reached into my pocket and stole my Pens and money and ran away. I ran after him for a bit, with security trailing me, until the boy lost me. I learned the children had become expert Pick Pockets. Because I was considered a High Value Target, the soldiers or guards protecting me would immediately have to intervene and begin pushing and shoving the kids away from me before I got hurt or lost important items. They were always concerned for my safety as I could get stabbed or shot or blown up by a suicide bomber. What children in the United States, such as here that I am teaching, would have thought that a simple Pen or Pencil would magical and be of such importance to be the symbol to Afghanistan children of knowledge and education.  Pens and pencils so important to uneducated children, that just like bullies, the older children would grab the smaller children’s pencils I had just handed them.  So unless the crowd was only a few children the new policy was that I was not to hand anything out anymore. It broke my heart.

 My hope is that my book opens eyes to the reality in Afghanistan. “ONE BRICK at a TIME” by Rich Walton, available at https://www.onebrickatatimepress.com

WALK the WALK

 Guns, bullets, death and corruption, and for centuries the Afghan endless war has been known as the place where empires come to die.

 What makes this book different and unique from so many of the other books written about the Afghan war?  How did having no work lead to having my dream job and what kept me coming back like a moth drawn to a flame.

 I was living pretty much the American dream, raised in a middle class neighborhood, grew up picking strawberries and delivering newspapers followed by teen and early twenty’s working in restaurants and labor jobs earning my way through college. Got married to my beautiful wife, have 3 sons and a small farm along with my own Architectural design business. Fulfilling my boyhood dream of having my office on a farm and a window that our horse could poke its head through just like the show I grew up watching on T.V. , Mr. Ed. I was not wealthy but was making ends meet. We had a good life. But doubt had begun to creep in. While sitting at my desk day after day designing houses for over 25 years I began to feel like I was having to re-invent the wheel every day and was wondering if this is all life had left for me. Bluntly I was leading “A life of quiet desperation”.

 Then like a whirlwind the 2008 recession came in. Banks where not making loans effecting my business as it began to spiral downward. It’s a Recession when your neighbors are out of work and a Depression when you are out of work. Well it was turning into a depression for me fast. I applied for jobs everywhere, willing to take a job doing anything, but NOT getting hired. It seemed like I spent days and late into the nights sending out hundreds of resumes. NOTHING!

 I remembered how some of my clients had started with nothing and worked their way up to great successes. One such client was a man who had worked in a paper mill making little money and constantly being laid off.  After one such lay off a friend of his offered to pay him to help him make colorful horse cinches for horse saddles. Then the owner asked my client to buy the business from him paying him as he could afford to. My client started driving to local Saddle and tack shops, bought a van and drove to shops further away selling his fancy and colorful horse cinches, then he started selling them in catalogs.  By the time I met him, he had an office with employees sending these colorful horse cinches all around the world.  He told me if he had never been laid off from the paper mill he would still be there.

 This was just like the Horatio Alger Stories I grew up reading, an American writer of young adult novels about impoverished boys and their rise from humble backgrounds to lives of middle class by way of hard work. These books where a huge inspiration for me.

 After months of my business getting less and less work, the proverbial saying of “I know a guy who knows a guy” came to fruition for me. An overseas contractor who lives on the east coast needed a construction manager for Afghanistan. So taking to heart the saying that when one door closes another door opens, I still needed to take the initiative to walk through it.  I didn’t hesitate, I packed my bags and with $300 in my pocket I flew to Iraq and then to Afghanistan by myself.

 Don’t let me mislead you. The point of going to Afghanistan was for the paycheck, but, I needed the change and the added adventure of being a part of history in the making was irresistible. After my boots hit the ground in Afghanistan it became much more than the money and the adventure, it became about helping the Afghan people. I had this endearing feeling of being needed and making a difference in peoples lives. I helped build schools and health clinics in the villages, working with the local workers, most of whom could not read or write, plus I worked with the Afghan army on many projects for their military bases.

 I knew it was important to tell the stories of what I saw and experienced as a civilian in a war zone as it is so much different than what I ever saw in the United States news.  When I was in college I met students that wanted to be social workers, counselors, etc, to help the poor neighborhoods. Because I grew up in one of those areas, I would get into heated arguments as they told me their ideas of what needed to be done in those neighborhoods. I knew they had no idea of what it is like to live in those communities, to worry about being mugged on your way to the store at night, or your kids getting beat up on the streets, about your house or apartment being robbed.  So I would suggest if you want to help in those neighborhoods, go live in the neighborhoods you want to fix and experience what it is actually like. Basically you need to walk the walk to talk the talk.

 I found the same to be true for Afghanistan. We would have news correspondents fly in for a whirl wind tour of several bases and sometimes combat situations, then they left. Not enduring the day in and day out - 7 day a week grueling mind numbing environment and experiencing the daily heartbreak of the Afghan people in their daily trials of illness, hunger and death. In all cases you have to live with people in order for them to trust you and share their most personal feelings. You have to walk the walk to be able to talk the talk. You have to have been there - done that.

 Hopefully since I have walked the walk I will be able to talk the talk in such a way to inform the readers of what it’s really like in Afghanistan.

 My hope is that my book opens eyes to the reality in Afghanistan.  “ONE BRICK at a TIME” by Rich Walton, available at https://www.onebrickatatimepress.com

 

MEET MR. RICH

I was a deer-in-the-headlights leaving my family and a 25 plus years Architectural Designing business behind heading to war zone Afghanistan to work as a Country Construction Manager, changing my job and life!  I traveled to remote areas to help build military bases and schools that made education available to boys and girls working with local Afghan workers to get the jobs done, most of which are uneducated, cannot read or write.  Danger was all around as the Taliban did not want what we were building. 

I worked in Afghanistan for over 4 years, traveling all over the country as a construction manager and architectural designer, helping build facilities for both the U.S.A. and Afghan armies as a part of the Provincial Reconstruction Team (PRT) where I designed and helped construct medical facilities, the controversial Herat University women’s dorm and a variety of other projects.  I came to firmly believe the only way Afghanistan will survive is through education.

For the military, I have been referred to as a “Force Multiplier” in the development of small remote and austere bases and other projects as I was able to produce construction drawings on the spur of the moment and travel to construction sites in war zones to plan and supervise the building of a diverse variety of structures.

I graduated from the University of Oregon, then catapulted into my own business designing award winning homes. After many years, I needed a change .. was frustrated sitting at a desk re-creating.  An opportunity came up .. and with my wife’s encouragement .. I ran with it.  It was a shock change, I had never been in the Military.  When I asked exactly what my job was, I was told I would have to figure it out when I got there!  I did and I soon gained a passion for “Winning the Hearts and Minds of the Afghan People” through “Teach-Coach-Mentor” principles on humanitarian projects.  In the end .. They won my heart.

My hope is that my book opens eyes to the reality in Afghanistan.  "ONE BRICK at a TIME" by Rich Walton, available at https://www.onebrickatatimepress.com