20 -21 June, 1978
In my journal I don't have anything written about our experiences in Turkey, other than the word "Turkey", but I remember what happened from the article I published at age 15.
One night while we were camping in our green tent on the Turkish hills, I had a belt next to my pillow. My father had a gun under his pillow and my older brother had a stick. I smile about the memory about the belt. What was I thinking? Was I going to fight off an army of Turks with the whip of a leather belt? We had heard stories of foreigners being stoned to death from trucks loaded with stones. One night as we were camping, we heard a truck pull up to a stop in the distance, and a group of men speaking in Turkish. My father sat with his gun ready to spring in to action to defend us. I remember praying a lot that fateful hour. I kept praying that God would make the men go away. After what seemed like a long time, the men drove off.
On June 23 we took a ferry to Istanbul where we stayed for two days. At one paricular restaurant I remember being able to look out over a body of water looking into Asia, being in Europe. The Turkish mountain roads were scary. They curved around the mountains without any fencing on the sides of the road. One time my father had had a little too much wine, and insisted on driving on the mountain roads. That was a road trip covered in constant prayers from me. We were able to see Mount Ararat in the distance, where Noah's Ark is mentioned in the Bible to have come to rest. Toward the end of our time in Turkey, we camped on a farm where a man was raising sheep. We fell in love with one particular friendly sheep. He would greet us every morning, and my brothers and I would pet the sheep. The sheppard did not understand a word of what we said, but we were able to communicate to him in broken turkish that we LOVED his sheep. We were REALLY sorry for those spoken words, because the next day he had slaughtered his sheep, and given us a huge leg from it. We had to graciously thank him, after our parents explained to us that our love for the sheep was interpreted as we love sheep meat. We all just wanted to cry. Of course we had no way to cook the meat, and the four of us kids certainly did not want to eat the mutton. All these memories are taken from my article I wrote in 1982 based on my experience being there. My 1978 journal left out a great amount of detail.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Monday, November 16, 2009
Goin into Iran June 1978
We were able to enter Iran, but news reports warned of troubled times there too. My parents both loved exposing us to different cultures and I remember going to beautiful persian palaces and significant places in Iran. I did not know if my friend Rebecca or if the Eberharts had made it out alive. I had exchanged addresses with all of them, so I have kept in touch with them over time. Next time I write in a week from now, I will recap our adventures in nearby Turkey, when one night a truck load of men came one night to our tent with the possible intent to stone us. Rumors were floating that foreigners and locals had been killed by stone throwing from midnight raids. Well, that is for next week. This all really happened... crazy as it might sound.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
May 1978 Afghanistan 6th entry
5 May 1978
After several days of hiding we are now back at school. My doll had a birthday. She turned one. I had a party for her. (Drawing of doll and candle in journal).
9 -10 May, 1978
We had a penny carnival at school. 7th and 8th grade started it. My brother showed cartoon films from the projector. He charged 5 Afs. It was at lunch time. It was fun.
Thoughts from the present: We lived in Afghanistan for a year, without television or movies. There were no T.V. stations in Kabul at the time, so it allowed our imaginations to go far. I remember my brother building a hot air balloon that really worked. He showed 8 mm films at school of old cartoons. I loved watching Mickey Mouse and Goofy. We did not get that kind of entertainment, so it was a big deal. Remember my journal is written as an eleven year old, and some sentences seem so short and irrelevant, but they were important to me.
13 May, 1978
Rebecca, Beatrice and my brothers we practiced for our circus we are going to have. We are going to perform on Thursday 18th May. (Our weekends were Thursdays and Fridays, since Afghanistans holy day was Friday).
14 May, 1978
Mothers Day. I gave Mammi coffee in bed and a rabbit I made with a flower. She was very happy. (Drawing of my mother in journal).
Later today we went to the Nilssons to practice for our circus. Outside there are still tanks and soldiers. There is a curfew at night.
25 May, 1978
We had our circus performance in our back yard. We had it at 5:00. It was a really good circus. I was an acrobat. We had clowns.
30 May, 1978
It was sports day at school. I came in first place in the running race. Our team is called Kondoskochis. The Kandahar camels won. We came in second.
31 May, 1978 A very sad day.
We had an assembly at school. Mr. Eberhart our principal told us our school had to close down. We all have to get out of the country. (Drawings in journal of last day). Miss Morgan is leaving for America. She is my fifth grade teacher. She is getting married when she comes to America. His name is Doug. They live in a place called California. Rebecca and her sisters and I we went to the U.N. pool. Yassir and Robert splashed water on us every time we went into the water. I saw a dead man in a gutter! I can't stop thinking about it. Wahead got us some warm nann, it was so good.
5 June, 1978
Rebecca and Beatrice were going to Nadia's and they asked if I wanted to go. We are all leaving soon, so this will be my last good-bye. I spent the night. There was a storm at night, and I woke up in the night and was scared. I thought for sure Jesus was coming back in the night. I'm not sure how we are all getting out of Afghanistan. We can't fly out. We are probably driving out. We are packing and we are leaving June 10th.
Thoughts from the present: We are getting ready to leave Afghanistan. There was a gasoline shortage at the time, in the late 70's. My father (whom I call Baba) was able to buy a bunch of duty free cigarettes that we would end up using to trade for gas. It sounds crazy, but in a way cigarettes saved my life. Cigarettes were better than cash during war time. We had a 1969 VW station wagon, and we had to pack as much as possible on the roof of the car, our ara macaw parrot in the very back, four children in the back seat (before seat belt days) and my parents up front. It was a very sad day saying good-bye to our dear friend Wahead who worked and lived with us. He gave me a hug and said that maybe one day when I was a grown woman, and had children of my own, I could come back and visit him again. I have thought many times about his last words. I am now a grown woman, with three children and a husband. Afghanistan has been in a war for 31 years since this first coup de'tat I experienced in 1978. This was the precurser to the Soviet invasion of 1979. I don't think Wahead is alive today. He was an Afghan citizen and was not allowed to leave his country. Many, many years later, my principal Mr. Eberhart and his wife were able to sponser their Afghan neighbors to come to USA, in the late 1980's. I wish I would have been able to do that for Wahead, but I lost touch with him. Communication to Afghanistan was etreemly limited. Next time I write I will translate from my journal our trip out of war torn Afghanistan, and the scary border crossing into Iran, summer 1978.
After several days of hiding we are now back at school. My doll had a birthday. She turned one. I had a party for her. (Drawing of doll and candle in journal).
9 -10 May, 1978
We had a penny carnival at school. 7th and 8th grade started it. My brother showed cartoon films from the projector. He charged 5 Afs. It was at lunch time. It was fun.
Thoughts from the present: We lived in Afghanistan for a year, without television or movies. There were no T.V. stations in Kabul at the time, so it allowed our imaginations to go far. I remember my brother building a hot air balloon that really worked. He showed 8 mm films at school of old cartoons. I loved watching Mickey Mouse and Goofy. We did not get that kind of entertainment, so it was a big deal. Remember my journal is written as an eleven year old, and some sentences seem so short and irrelevant, but they were important to me.
13 May, 1978
Rebecca, Beatrice and my brothers we practiced for our circus we are going to have. We are going to perform on Thursday 18th May. (Our weekends were Thursdays and Fridays, since Afghanistans holy day was Friday).
14 May, 1978
Mothers Day. I gave Mammi coffee in bed and a rabbit I made with a flower. She was very happy. (Drawing of my mother in journal).
Later today we went to the Nilssons to practice for our circus. Outside there are still tanks and soldiers. There is a curfew at night.
25 May, 1978
We had our circus performance in our back yard. We had it at 5:00. It was a really good circus. I was an acrobat. We had clowns.
30 May, 1978
It was sports day at school. I came in first place in the running race. Our team is called Kondoskochis. The Kandahar camels won. We came in second.
31 May, 1978 A very sad day.
We had an assembly at school. Mr. Eberhart our principal told us our school had to close down. We all have to get out of the country. (Drawings in journal of last day). Miss Morgan is leaving for America. She is my fifth grade teacher. She is getting married when she comes to America. His name is Doug. They live in a place called California. Rebecca and her sisters and I we went to the U.N. pool. Yassir and Robert splashed water on us every time we went into the water. I saw a dead man in a gutter! I can't stop thinking about it. Wahead got us some warm nann, it was so good.
5 June, 1978
Rebecca and Beatrice were going to Nadia's and they asked if I wanted to go. We are all leaving soon, so this will be my last good-bye. I spent the night. There was a storm at night, and I woke up in the night and was scared. I thought for sure Jesus was coming back in the night. I'm not sure how we are all getting out of Afghanistan. We can't fly out. We are probably driving out. We are packing and we are leaving June 10th.
Thoughts from the present: We are getting ready to leave Afghanistan. There was a gasoline shortage at the time, in the late 70's. My father (whom I call Baba) was able to buy a bunch of duty free cigarettes that we would end up using to trade for gas. It sounds crazy, but in a way cigarettes saved my life. Cigarettes were better than cash during war time. We had a 1969 VW station wagon, and we had to pack as much as possible on the roof of the car, our ara macaw parrot in the very back, four children in the back seat (before seat belt days) and my parents up front. It was a very sad day saying good-bye to our dear friend Wahead who worked and lived with us. He gave me a hug and said that maybe one day when I was a grown woman, and had children of my own, I could come back and visit him again. I have thought many times about his last words. I am now a grown woman, with three children and a husband. Afghanistan has been in a war for 31 years since this first coup de'tat I experienced in 1978. This was the precurser to the Soviet invasion of 1979. I don't think Wahead is alive today. He was an Afghan citizen and was not allowed to leave his country. Many, many years later, my principal Mr. Eberhart and his wife were able to sponser their Afghan neighbors to come to USA, in the late 1980's. I wish I would have been able to do that for Wahead, but I lost touch with him. Communication to Afghanistan was etreemly limited. Next time I write I will translate from my journal our trip out of war torn Afghanistan, and the scary border crossing into Iran, summer 1978.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)