street children

Yesterday evening I heard that one of Ed’s Afghan acquaintances had congratulated him on his marriage. “And how old is she, your bride?” When he heard that I am the same age as Ed, 27, there was a slight pause “Ah, well, the important thing is that you love her, isn’t it?”. There is nothing like travel to Central Asia for feeling at one time both over the hill, and yet also curiously young and frivolous... I was very distressed to hear on arrival in Mazar that a day centre for street children, one of the most impressive and worthwhile projects I visited on my last visit in November, has since been forced to close down for lack of funds. The centre provided hot meals and a variety of activities, from sewing to calligraphy and computer lessons, to over a hundred children who are out of school and on the streets all day. I treasure the mental picture I have of the children having lunch, sitting in two long rows around a cloth laid on the floor down the side of a long basement hall. They all looked up from their plates of rice pilau when I came in, and gap toothed smiles rippled at me from up and down the room. I had heard something of this financial crisis, and had resolved to do what I could in terms of fundraising once I arrived, in gratitude for the hospitality of my old agency, but it seems I am too late. At the moment I am a lady of leisure in Mazar, having come here on the heels of my husband, who is engaged in an ambitious cultural project, so I have plenty of energy, pace the climate, to dedicate to finding out what happened to the funding and what can be done to find more... you can expect to hear more about this (hoping this does not sound too like a threat).