In the beginning of 2009, when I went to Kabul for my Bachelors and Master's programs at Michigan University, it was hard to explain why one might want to go there and not just stay home and study. I thought about how wonderful life could be like in a different country than where I had lived all my adult life. At first I thought that I would enjoy the city's museums, cafes, and bars, but as time passed, I found myself enjoying only the food. The most common dishes in Afghanistan were kabobz, biryani, and falafel, which are some of the best-sounding and satisfying meals. My favorite restaurant is called "Pashto" (in Pashto) and its owner, Mohammad Hamed, is a nice person to have around as I often had to get his help on questions. When we talked, I liked to ask him questions like "Where do you live?" or "What do your friends like about living here?" He always answered honestly. On these days I wondered whether he even had children, or if he had grown up in Pakistan. It never really occurred to me that he was just living in the United States because that would be such an unusual way of raising a child.
I also didn't realize how much I would miss my college campus until I left. There were several sites on our campus that were closed due to safety concerns after 9/11, so those that remained were very eerie. They were mostly historical in nature, but they still had beautiful buildings built before the war that made me feel like I was back at my university again. One such building was built by the great American architect Louis Kahn, who used brick and marble structures to construct some of his famous buildings across the globe. Khan was born in India but came to America while studying and worked as an architect and a teacher for many years. He had created a number of buildings in New York City and later built the Central Library in Washington D.C.. He got married in 1954 when she was working in a small house on Manhattan Island. She gave birth to eight sons, five girls, and two dogs before Khan died in 1978. His wife described Khan as a kind and good man during his lifetime and described her husband as a loving father. He also had a passion for helping students with their learning and helped them through school work and through community events in the surrounding community. In this area, I felt like I was going to come back to mine.
The people here taught me more about what I was going to need to learn in the next year of classes that turned out to be well worth it. We discussed history, economics, and philosophy on topics as diverse as Buddhism, Islam, and Christianity. These themes were taught throughout the semester. However, one day when I was told I wanted to take Arabic, I was informed that there weren't any universities or colleges offering courses in Arabic in Afghanistan or anywhere else outside of Kabul. This surprised me, but I didn't think anything of it at first. Even though most Afghans speak English, I still assumed there was no reason to believe speaking in another language wouldn't be useful. A friend of mine suggested learning Swahili instead, and we started planning our Arabic studies. My brother, who has been in Afghanistan since 2003, taught us both how to read and write in Swahili. Though it took longer than expected, we were able to complete a level 1 course from March to May, with a few weeks of extra credit. At first it seemed daunting, but then I remembered how helpful the teachers and classmates were when I needed someone at the end of the class to explain something to me that I did not understand. Their patience was invaluable, but that doesn't mean they didn't push me. The lesson I learned was that learning anything can be difficult. With the knowledge of what I needed, I focused hard on reading as much as possible, although the textbooks were quite expensive, and the cost of books wasn't the biggest challenge. I found new English slang and idioms by using Google Translate and reading other speakers’ articles to expand my vocabulary. At the same time, however, I couldn't stop thinking about what I would lose if I had to leave. How wonderful it would be to continue learning everything new, and how amazing the United States would be to visit. I had already been able to make a number of connections to other countries and to the world, but now I would be returning to Afghanistan without being able to experience it with anyone.
In addition, though the currency was relatively stable compared with the international dollar (USD), I could not make the financial aid my parents received from the U.S. government. Many families rely on aid provided because of this. As a result, I applied for some grants to pay for groceries and other necessities. My sister, who is in Khowar, was eager to contribute money to me, but she couldn't afford to buy everything, so we split the $1,300. While I wasn't happy with the amount and didn't understand why we were short-changed, he and I decided we would see what happened by filling whatever the aid offered and getting it together through our savings. Within four months we had paid for almost every item that we could find, but then as we looked at the receipts and realized that we hadn't used the funds, I started questioning myself. Was I doing right by my family when I took all these loans? What did my mom do to earn money? Perhaps this was the problem we faced with America, because no one said the same thing back then. My mother was working full-time and trying to provide for my sisters and I financially when my husband and I had other jobs, all contributing to our combined income of less than $8,000 per month. That seems like a lot of money, especially at the time when most people could barely feed themselves. But that’s what life is and that’s the way it should be. So yes, this problem, too, does exist today and may become worse in future decades. Although things might be better for everyone in the end, I still think the debt that will eventually pile up will be greater than what we have now.
While looking at my finances, my dad was working a job and was making six figures, and my mother was able to cover rent and other expenses, including bills in order to provide all three of them with enough money to live within their means. Both of my brothers were graduating from college with degrees, though this time in different states. Two of our older siblings were coming back to join the military, one of whom moved back with him, and one was stationed abroad during the war. It never occurred to me that the others might have chosen to move away to fight or die while the rest stayed and studied. Of course they did not. All of our lives we have dreamed about joining the army and going into combat or going off to war, but as soon as the opportunity arose we knew how much it was going to cost us, so we chose our own path instead. Our family was not allowed to talk about it, but my father told me I wanted to follow my dreams. To my surprise, I got a scholarship from the Army, but I needed to pay it off by borrowing money to make each of our monthly payments. Once I got my loan, all the details of the program were explained, including giving proof of employment so that my parents would approve. If I ever needed to move back home, I could return when I was able to find a job without having to worry about paying the loan back plus all the interest. For the remainder of my junior year I spent two months of the summer studying, but my dad reminded me I wasn’t ready for high school and would be starting in November. By September I felt ready for school and asked if my teacher would allow me to participate. Luckily, I was accepted, and just like that we changed our plans for school. Just before Thanksgiving break, my mom sent me a letter asking if I wanted to come home early to spend Christmas with my sister. At first my brother declined, but after dinner, my mom encouraged and we agreed. And just as quickly as Christmas morning arrived, we packed our bags and left the house.
On New Year's Day we woke up early enough in hopes of hitting the airport to head out of town. When my brother finally got to his school, my son greeted him warmly, although not warmly enough. In response, he brought his backpack and a notebook that were filled with stickers, drawings, and pictures. Then he put me and my mom on his lap, and for my entire senior year we drew lots with the writing "Hugs." Despite the lack of official instruction on how to use the pencils and paper, we managed to learn a whole host of cool things, all involving drawing. We took a picture of us sitting in front of a tree, that we cut up on the spot, and put all of it on the chalkboard. In high school at least we wanted to be in an art club when we made pictures. We didn't try to have the regularity required to sign a piece or paint something in paint, but the effort paid off. Now even though we haven't been there for our whole student year, I'm excited to head back by bus if it’s safe to do so. I don't know what winter will bring, though I have a vague idea of snow and ice—especially if we see Santa Claus.
My brother and mother are doing okay with all of this new information, but my little sister is struggling. Having lost her fiance, who has been with her since 2014, to cancer, her emotions haven't been very encouraging. We've talked about moving away from the US for awhile now, but it is going to be expensive and far.
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