Dawood Kahn is a good friend who has worked in and traveled in the Middle East for several years. He has largely been an instructor for the US Army of indigenous safety enforcers.




Sam





----- Original Message -----

From: Silk Roads and Siamese Smiles

To: skegley@columbus.rr.com

Sent: Thursday, June 10, 2010 03:18

Subject: [New post] An Afghan Challenge -- Instructing and Mentoring





An Afghan Challenge -- Instructing and Mentoring

Dawood Khan
April 30, 2008 at 1:07 am
Tags: Afghansitan, Instructing, Logistics, Mentoring
Categories: Afghanistan, Politics, culture
URL: http://wp.me/pa0gv-bT



For the past week or so, I've been at one of the Regional Training Centers (RTC). My task is to advise and assist the RTC staff on logistics functions of what has been dubbed the Focused District Development or FDD. The FDD takes a District Police element pluses up it's manning. Re-equips them and re-trains the District as a whole unit.



To say that the process is problematic is an understatement.



Half of the numbers show for the training. They come in looking half taliban and half homeless. It would be funny if it were really a joke. I assisted in disarming them as they came into the FOB this cycle. As they were being searched, they were relieved of everything from opium to hashish to strange unidentifiable objects that no one wanted to ask about. Confiscate it and move on. lol Their weapons were in a sad state of disrepair. They brought in a tripod mounted PKM that was damaged to the point of uselessness. It had to be a left over from the Soviet Invasion. It was that old.



Aside from assisting and advising the Military and DynCorps RTC staff in their logistical functions and methodology, I give a general logistics seminar to all of the trainees and a more detailed seminar to the District Leadership and Logisitics Staff.



The instruction for the District trainees is fairly dry. It's logistics. Accountability, Responsibility, types of responsibilities, Hand Receipt procedures and OCIE. I usually throw in some "Dave pearls of wisdom" and a few jokes to keep the kids awake. I try to tell them how to take care of themselves when becoming responsible and accountable for property. Try to throw in a bit about husbanding resources as a means of furthering their country down the road to self sufficiency. That kind of thing. Throw in a bit of "Afghan pride." Who knows if any of it sinks in or if they remember anything I said 15 minutes after they walk out the door.



Each iteration of the FDD comes from a different Province or Region within Afghanistan. Farah, Qandahar are the groups we have trained thus far. These boys are like the backwoods Mississipians of Afghanistan. Totally backward. Completely illiterate. Uncouth. Unclean. Indescribable. If the movie Slingblade had been filmed about an Afghani, it would have been set in Qandahar.



During last FDD cycle, the Qandaharis were on the firing range. They were practicing--more likely being taught--marksmanship. As the men were firing on the range, Afghan children were running about collecting the expended brass. They literally run out while the men are firing at the targets. Pop, pop, pop. Weapons firing down range and little kids trying to run out and collect the brass. The RTC staff have to continually run them off. Aside from the distraction. It's a total safety hazard. For the kids, the staff and the trainees.



The Qandahar trainees asked the staff to allow them to catch the kids. They wanted to take them back to the barracks and they weren't shy about it. Qandaharis are infamous for this sexual proclivity. They're fairly open about their sexaul activities. Lascivious. Boastful. Proud even. Even going so far as to offer one of the RTC language assistants money to come back to the barracks. Quite disgusting.



Yet, they can't have sex with women because it's against the Qu'ran. Go figure. Strange culture.



This class is from Farah. A bit further North and West. Today. When I walked into class. I fired up my laptop. 60 Afghans almost simultaneously ask me to play them a "sex movie." I started laughing and told them that I'd get fired if I did that. That broke the ice for me.



After that, the class went pretty smoothly. I only had to get loud one time to tell a couple of guys in the back to stop talking. I yelled; "I'm in charge here. The only Bubbas that should be talking is my terp and me. If you don't like that, get the hell out of my class." Then told my terp to translate that exactly as I said it. All the while, staring down the offending party. They're like really bad children. Many of them look like children.



The only real problem with the class was that most of them probably hadn't bathed in months. They stank so bad that my eyes immediately started to burn/ Tears were actually running down my face until I got used to the stench. The smell of 60 Afghan country bumpkins in a 20' x 20' room is pretty ornery. It quite literally singes the nose hairs.



Interacting with Afghanis is quite the experience though. Most of the guys stare at me like I'm from another planet. One kid was falling asleep and when his head drooped his eyes nearly popped out of his head. He looked straight up at me as if he were a small child caught with his hand in the cookie jar.



After I finished boring them to death with my little seminar, I wished them luck, yelled to them to remember what I'd told them and said "Khoda Hafez." (May God Protect You). What's funny is that my terp always translates everything. Even when I throw out what little Dari that I've picked up along the way. I always get a kick out of that.



Innocuous odors aside, I enjoy interacting with the Afghans. Many of them aren't much different from the boys out there in Rineyville, Vine Grove, Pikeville or Hazard, KY. Just good old boys trying to survive. People of this world oftentimes aren't all that different.