Botox Nightmares
Sohail Abdullah, CEO of CAI, and I are in Lebanon once more, on our way to Damascus, Syria. Why would anyone in their right mind want to be in this country at this time is perplexing, sometimes even to me. Strife and violence are a concern, of course, but we have not been to see our 200 orphans and the school we have built for them in Damascus for over six months. This creates an obvious compliance issue but we are also eager to see the kids progressing in their education, especially after CAI donors recently gifted them a modern new computer lab for the school.
Alas, it is not to be; the authorities in Damascus deny our visas. It is the combination of our host’s cocky attitude and the prevailing violence in the vicinity that, perhaps, have the Syrians worried, although we’ve been to the country three times in the last couple of years. We try every avenue for the visas, even staying at Baalbek, close to the border with Syria, for a day, but to no avail. Heartbroken, we resign to the will of Allah (s) and accept what we cannot change. We do visit the forty-odd orphans that CAI educates and supports in Nabatiya, south of Lebanon. They are in great shape, getting a foothold in life with quality education.
We depart Lebanon, and the sight of so many Botoxed procedures in women gone grossly wrong. What a waste of Allah-given beauty, with phony spouting lips that look creepy, smiling without meaning to, and wrinkle-free eyes on the middle-aged. Nightmare material. For me. I can finally breathe air that is not contaminated by either cigarette smoke or nauseating sheesha vapors. These people, bless them, are not only cursed with whopping economic crises and civil strife but also the addiction to sheesha and tobacco. Men, women, the old, children, and even infants are forced to breathe the already-foul air with cigarette and sheesha gunk. This is not an exaggeration – I have witnessed many infants in restaurants, asleep in strollers, next to whole families puffing, with sheesha smoke obscuring their surroundings. The one entity – religious ulema – that can put a stop to this madness is unwilling or unable to do it.
We leave as the violence between Israel and Lebanon ticks up; Israeli jets bomb a location on the outskirts of Nabatiya the next day.
Afghanistan
Our next destination is Afghanistan via Dubai. I have not been here since before COVID-19 and am eager to meet the 150 or so orphans who have been with us for years. Kabul has changed since the Taliban took over. Our visa processing by immigration authorities and the airport experiences are painless, although the immigration officer with an unkempt beard who accepts my visa credentials makes a face when he sees my US passport. His eyebrows recede deeper into his already scowling face as he regards me in ire.
Boro! Go! He yells rudely, blowing stale cigarette breath towards me.
Go where? I ask in equal annoyance, what about my passport?
Boro, he barks again and half stands up, threatening. Good thing I spot Basheer, our Operations Manager, hurrying towards me, who takes over, and I sigh in relief.
Once outside, the streets of the city seem cleaner, traffic is disciplined, the air is less polluted, and the overall security situation is much improved; the frequent bomb blasts have ceased. The population, resigned to their new masters who enforce their perplexing interpretation of Islam, hustle about earning their keep. Summer fruits, especially sweet, delicious melons, are everywhere I look. I’m served kababs so many times I feel like I’m done with eating meat for the rest of my life. I gorge on soopa sweet blackberries, however. Burp.
Our flagship school/orphanage CAI facility in the outskirts of Kabul stands tall and impressive and is probably the best-built school in the country; I’ve never been prouder of the CAI footprint in this wretched country. From the quality care of our orphans, the oppressed minority we aid, food aid for the hungry, basic and critical medical care to thousands, disaster relief, the water projects that supply potable water to thousands who desperately need water daily, and the over 2,000 homes built for the homeless, especially for widows with children. After meeting with our orphans and the school personnel, performing an in-depth internal audit, and inspecting the school/orphanage structures to ensure quality control, we fly to Herat, an hour’s flight away. We inspect 23 completed homes and 23 other homes under construction for widows with children. These harassed women are mostly widows of men who died by the frequent bombings when the now-ruling Taliban were busy wresting power from their corrupt predecessors.
This is probably my last visit to Afghanistan, a country I have visited 47 times since 2007. I’m indebted to Allah (s) for the opportunity and profoundly grateful to our donors who have stood by CAI over the years. The work continues, of course. I leave Afghanistan very worried for the oppressed female population. The unfair and senseless ban on the education of girls by the Taliban past grade six is unconscionable and unforgivable. The men who have wrongly formulated this ban will pay the price of this evil in this and the afterworlds.
Fruitful Thailand
We arrive in Bangkok and cannot stop eating, from incredible coconut-infused seafood to fruits. I stuff myself on all the summer fruits, except the nasty durian, and can’t seem to stop. In partnership with BCT of UK, CAI is here to explore the possibility of offering education opportunities to a poor community in Kong Ra, in the south, ninety minutes by flight. I’ve always liked Thailand and am not disappointed – from their food to fruits, to the polite nature of her people and the respect for hierarchy, to cleanliness and discipline, the country does not disappoint.
BCT and CAI will work towards providing education resources to the children of a poor school in Kong Ra. Insha’Allah.