How (Not) To Impress A Playmate in Kabul

by Michael Bear

category: Humanitarian Relief

Published September 11, 2009 @ 06:25PM PT

Still thinking about yesterday's post, and whether aid workers ever learn.  So, as a public service, a lesson in how not to act when German Playmates come to town.

Years ago, CARE Germany - in a fit of inspired lunacy - sent a German actress, along with a TV crew, to Kabul as part of a fundraising campaign.  An actress who’d recently posed for Playboy.  As I was working for CARE in Afghanistan at the time, I was somewhat excited.

Or, perhaps more accurate to say that the impending visit singlehandedly reaffirmed my faith in God. And Google. ( “Cosma Shiva Hagen”, in case you’re interested.)

In many ways, the visit itself was a disappointment – surprisingly, she showed no interest – whatsoever – in hanging out at the CARE guesthouse. Numerous invitations notwithstanding.

That said, any lingering disappointment certainly didn’t stop me from triggering a riot of Afghan street children a few days later in what was - in hindsight - a perhaps misguided attempt to impress Ms. Hagen.

CARE at that time ran a widows feeding program, where once a month in various districts, CARE staff would distribute food rations to widows, enough flour and salt and cooking oil to last a family of five for three weeks. On their last day in Kabul, I tagged along with the Germans to a distribution site out beyond the edge of nowhere, some sort of urban wasteland of destroyed, bombed out buildings and hard, frozen mud. About 150 widows all in blue burkhas, milling around in front of an abandoned, graffittied apartment building. Kids everywhere, running around, bundled up against the cold, kids wrapped in old clothes and jackets and rags.

As we stood around, waiting for the distribution to begin, I couldn’t stop staring at these kids, poor beyond imagining. After a while, I saw a child selling candy, and decided to buy all his candy and hand it out free to the children – visions of a tall Jewish Santa Claus, etc etc., mixed with hopes of a German Playmate looking on in admiration.

I paid the kid the equivalent of three dollars for his carton of candy, as women and kids began milling around. I handed out the first piece, and all of a sudden there was a wild scrum – kids coming in from all over, pushing each other, reaching into the carton. I belatedly began to realize that my hopes that the children would spontaneously form a line when confronted with free candy were, at the least, a little unrealistic. I stood there stunned for a second, and then before I knew what was happening a kid hit the carton from underneath, sending about half the candy flying out. Pandemonium. Children pouring in from all over, seemingly coming from other neighborhoods as well, a wild sprawling mob of kids kicking and pushing and screaming for candy, while Gulliver-like I stood shocked above the fray.

In a attempt to impose a little order I held the box above my head and yelled – in vain – for everyone to settle down (another illusion shattered), as more kids kept pouring over…all I could do was scream, and glance over to see if the Germans were looking. Unfortunately, I seemingly can’t do two things at once, let alone three, so as I was screaming and trying to see if the Germans were impressed with my performance so far, I forgot to hold the box above my head. I lowered the box for a second and it was hit again, at which point all hell truly broke loose. Kids fighting each other for the candy, and widows knocked down (the limited visibility offered by a burkha being a definite draw-back in a melee).

I was knocked over in the mad rush for candy as one particularly energetic eight year-old took out my knees. I went down like a stone, children stepping on my chest, on my face in the mad rush for candy. At which point what little survival instinct I possess took over, and I grabbed a few kids and used them as leverage to hoist myself back up, just in time to see two of the CARE drivers wade into the mob, knocking children out of the way and clearing a path to freedom. And as they led me away from the disaster, all I could do was wonder whether Cosma had been impressed.

Later, after I’d had a chance to collect my thoughts, I realized probably not.

[Photo from author]