Diplomatic LSD

I’ve entitled this post with a very specific title in mind.  Diplomatic LSD is how I term the facial expression that one often displays while speaking with foreign government officials.  That is, it is important to remember to keep a pleasant appearance regardless of the situation or what is said.  Towing a “smile and nod” party line and provide some sort of affirmation (slight tilt of the head, a raised eyebrow just to demonstrate your interested) regardless of what you are really thinking.  Of course, sitting there for a long time in such situations is hard work on the face and often the eyes grow large and glaze over and your facial muscles freeze into some phony, indignant, toothy smile vaguely resembling a forced elementary school photo as your mind struggles to follow the conversation. The pain of these situations is sometimes compounded with a language barrier and the need to work with an interpreter who may not know the nuances, phrases or, yes, even the language you’re communicating in.  That’s why there is training to effectively work with an interpreter. You see, it is very important not to talk TO the interpreter, but to try and maintain eye contact with the person you are having a conversation with.  Though this sounds easy, it can actually be difficult at times.  Now, given this disclaimer, let me tell you about a recent meeting….

Picture it – a district village in the middle of Afghanistan.  A US Army Captain, a Private, I and an interpreter go in to speak with the District Director of Agriculture and District Director of Irrigation about water issues in the district.  We start off with introductions.  First the captain, then the private, then when it was my turn, Akmed the interpreter looks over to me and says

“I’m sorry, but who are you?”

Well, this is off to good start.  Ladies and Gentlemen, I would like you to meet Akhmed the interpreter who I worked with all last week – how quickly they forget

Slowly turning to the translator “uh…my name is Jas…”

“No, no. I mean, what do you do?”

Did we JUST meet?

“I’m a General Development Officer with USAID”

“What does USAID do?”

Funny, I was just thinking that in the office myself

“Uh…we administer development projects on behalf of the United States government…”

Ok, it was a painfully slow start through the introductions, but the Captain, Directors and I finally learned who was who.  Now, it was time to find out what they did.  And so with Akhmed as our faithful translator the conversation went something like this:

“Now then, you’re the District Director of Agriculture and you are the District Director of Irrigation”

Both of them “yes, yes”

“Good, so you (to the District Director of Irrigation) work under the Ministry of Agriculture, correct?”

“No, of course not!”

A bit confused, I turned to the District Director of Agriculture “uh…you do irrigation though, right?”

“But of course”

“So you work for separate Ministries, but you both work with irrigation.  So you work together?”

“Yes, but no”

“So you work separately then?”

“Not really, but something like that”

Ok, moving right along now…

“They are both interested in irrigation, but the water issues are separate” a third man in the room answered

“And who might you be?”

“I am the District Director of Development”

Seizing the opportunity to kill more birds with one stone, the captain invites him to sit down and participate in the conversation. After he sits down, we decided to let determining the actual roles of the directors sit on the back burner and turned our attention back to the Director of Agriculture.

 “So is the district having any agricultural problems that need to be addressed?” the captain asked.

Dead silence.  Seriously no one was speaking.  No one was speaking because Akmed was just sitting there looking at them.  Feeling uncomfortably stupid, I slowly turned to the translator

Akmed, are you translating through mental telepathy?

“Uh…Akmed, would you like to ask him the question now?

And so he did.

“Ohh….yes…the wheat and the urea” the District Director of Agriculture answered

“The wheat and the urea? What’s wrong with the wheat and the urea?”

“Well…it’s no good”

“No good?  What do you mean “no good”? What is wrong with it?”

“Well it doesn’t grow enough”

“Huh?” I jumped in looking intelligent as always.

“They only give us 35 kilograms of wheat seed and that isn’t enough and the seed must be bad”

 “Oh, ok.  Well how much wheat seed do you need?”

“20 by 20”

“W...w...what?  What does that mean?”

With a look of exasperation “the land is 20 by 20”

“20 by 20 what? Feet? Meters? Yards? Inches? What is the measurement?”

“Afghan measurement”

“Uh yeah…ok, so for every 20 by 20 plot of land you get 35 kilograms of wheat seed, correct?”

“Yes”

“So if a farmer has 2 plots of land then he receives 70 kilograms of wheat, right?”

“No of course not!”

Yeah, WHAT was I thinking?!

“Well...wait…one plot of land equals 35 kilograms of wheat seed, so two plots of land should equal 70 kilograms” as I scribble this out on my notepad for them What? Am I doing the math wrong here?

“No, no, no…no farmer gets more than 35 kilograms”

“Oh…now I understand…EVERY farmer receives 35 kilograms of wheat!”

They then look at each other and back at me as though I’m the dumbass in the room.

“No…of course not!  Not every farmer receives 35 kilograms of wheat!  Why would they do that?!”

“I...I…don’t know.  I don’t understand who is supposed to get the wheat now? Per farmer? Or per plot of land?”

“Yes, of course!” they cry out in joyous unison.

Staring out the window behind the District Director of Irrigation, I think to myself in the parallel universe, this is probably a very intellectual conversation.

As I sat there with my glazed, confused look and toothy grin, Akmed, to my amazement then snatches my notepad and pen and jumps up and lunges at the Director of Agriculture.

Oh my God! What’s he doing? He’s going to attack the District Director of Agriculture!

He then rushes over and engages the Directors of Irrigation and Agriculture about the wheat seed.  Meanwhile, the District Director of Development dissatisfied with not having the conversation directed at him, looks at the Captain and starts to speak about…something.  What about? We’re actually not sure.  For you see, the Captain didn’t speak Dari and the Director didn’t speak English and Akmed was having a field day with my notebook and the 20 by 20.  It was through drawing, broken English and pantomime that it was explained to us that only farmers with a 20 by 20 plot of land could receive wheat seed.  If you had more or less than 20 by 20, then too bad. 

Oye! My head is beginning to hurt! No reason to talk about urea.

So the captain begins to question the Director of Irrigation

“The rainy season is approaching and we are just curious if you had a prevention or relief plan prepared that we could look at?”

 “You see, when the harvest moon comes out and shines itself over the sleeping corn which slowly opens its leaves….”

What the….?

As the captain and I sat there trying to mask our confused looks, our eyes dart between the directors – who all seemed pleased at the answer - and ourselves and I couldn’t help but think to myself “and the dog howls twice at midnight.  Is he speaking in code?  Does he have a plan or not?!”

After about five minutes of this, the captain then interrupts

“Uh…yes, yes…ok, but” now speaking very clearly “does…he…HAVE…a plan…for us to look at?”

Once again, Akmed translate the question only to receive a more exasperated ten minute response.

“When the cows and deer meet the frogs at the lake….”

“Oh my God…I think he must have had a stroke.  What the hell is he talking about?”

Meanwhile, the captain whose eyes were beginning to glaze over listening to this begins to blink rapidly (or perhaps that was just a nervous twitch) and regains consciousness.  Then, nonchalantly looks over at the private to see what notes have been taken.  The notepad was blank.  The private sitting perfectly still with pencil in hand and wide eyes and focused on the Director of Irrigation, whispers to the captain

“I…am…so…confused”

Yet, we all sat there with open smiles on our faces and wide eyes listening...

Alright then!  We’ll just assume a big “negative” on a flood plan …next question

 “Now every summer there is a drought here and we want to minimize the problems.  What do you need to help you when there will be a drought?”

Akmed looks over at the captain with sincere concern in his eyes and says “but I don’t know what they will do”

Through narrow eyes and clenched, smiling teeth the captain slowly and quietly responses

“I’m not asking YOU!  I want you to ask THEM!”

Akmed, I would like to remind you that the nice captain is armed with a loaded pistol.

And while Akmed remembers his job and translated the question of the drought, I begin to jot down in my notepad some ideas about this that we can discuss: drought plans, water retention, conservation efforts, etc.  We can really get some ideas going now! Anything topic that relates to water and then the Director responds…

“Roads”

Whoa! Didn’t see that curve ball coming

 “W…w…what?” I stammered “you want a road to help you with a drought?”

“Yes most certainly”

Hoping that the look sheer stupidity was not showing on my face “well…why do you need a road?”

“To go with the wall, of course” the Director of Agriculture chimes in

Shooting a look to the Director of Agriculture “WALL?  You want a wall?!  What do you want a wall for?”

“For security” answered the Director of Irrigation

“One wall on the road for security, correct?  We’re still talking about the drought though, right?”

Both looking at me with “uh…yeah…HELLLLO?” look in their eyes “yes, yes” they responded in unison

The captain, just as confused as I am, but obviously deciding to play along with this asked

“What kind of wall to do you want?”

“3 meters high, 4 meters wide and 7 kilometers long!”

HOLY SHIT!!! They want us to build the Great Wall of Afghanistan! What on earth do they need a wall like that for?  To see it from space?!

Almost falling out of my chair I asked incredulously “you...you…you need a wall 7 kilometers long?”

“Ok, only 2 kilometers then”

“Wait…what?...now 2 kilometers?”

“Ok, ok,…700 meters.  In fact, whatever you can build us”

What is this? I’m not negotiating!

“Wait a minute, let me see if I get this straight…to assist you in times of a drought you need a road and a HUGE or small wall, correct?”

“NOW you understand”

Actually I have no freakin’ clue to what we are talking about!

“But again, WHY do you need a wall?”

(Sigh) “To retain the water – a water retention wall”

“What water?!” I almost cried out “you’re talking about a drought!”

“Exactly!” he grinned

What’s going on here? We should be talking about the water and everyone is talking in riddles about walls and roads.  It’s like I’m in the Afghan revival of the “Miracle Worker;” only now I’m Heller Keller and the translator Annie Sullivan.

Staring at the Director of Agriculture, my mind races

“Awa…awa!” mentally making a pumping water hand motion

Having no reaction, I then look over to the Director of Irrigation

“Awa…AWA!!!” pounding my fists together in sign language for “water! water!”

I begin to mentally pound my head with my fists.

Noticing the vein in my forehead that is going to explode, the captain jumps back into the conversation

“Ok, ok, for either a flood or a drought…” Pause.  Deep breath “do you have any plan for this?”

“Yes of course, why didn’t you ask before?  I wrote the plan down”

And the clouds of despair opened up

“Did you give it to anyone?”

“Yes, yes, the vice-governor”

“The current vice-governor?”

“I don’t know”

“When did you submit the plans?”

“A long time ago”

“Have you followed-up on them?”

“Oh…yes…of course not.  No, no, the government will not implement my plan”

Akmed…I swear if you have been drinking or that if this is some sort of joke….

Regaining my composure…

“So to clarify – you have a plan…about…water issues? Yes? And you submitted it to…someone….perhaps the vice-governor….a long time ago, right? And you haven’t drafted anymore plans, correct?”

“Yes, it was a very good plan”

“The one that you won’t follow up on and that the government won’t implement?”

“Yes”

Just making sure

“I also have plans” the director of development jumps in

“Oh you do?” I replied drily “would you like to tell us about them?” please say “no”

“Yes, yes, I have six plans”

“Six plans?!” sitting up for this “really? Wow! When did you submit six plans? And to who?”

“Oh, I’ve never submitted them”

(Sigh) Of course not

Seeing that this conversation was not really going….anywhere and it was now TWO HOURS later, the captain and I decided to leave and began to say our thanks and goodbyes. As we stood though, the directors gave us a pensive look and the director of Agriculture asked

“But wait…what about the “weather machine”?”

Oh THIS will be fun and we’ve only wasted 2 hours of our lives on this conversation, so what’s a few more minutes?

Slowly taking our seats I intrepidly asked “the..the…what? The weather machine?”

“Yes”

By now, I am thinking something out of James Bond.  An imposing monster of a machine with knobs and buttons that can conjure tornadoes and tropical storms.  Looking over at me, then Akmed, then the directors, the captain asked

“I’m sorry, but what…what…IS…a weather machine?”

“We don’t know, but we don’t want it”

Of course not.  Who would want a machine that they don’t know about.

“Uh…well…if you don’t want it, why do you have a weather machine?”

“The international soldiers came and put it on the ground outside and told us that we must keep it.  We protested as it doesn’t look good there and then the Ministry in Kabul told us that we had to keep the weather machine”

“The Ministry?  What Ministry? Agriculture?”

“No”

“Irrigation?”

“No, no…The Ministry of Weather and Temperature”

Oh my God, this is something out of a Lewis Carroll story.  Next a white rabbit with a big pocket watch will appear…

The captain now wanting to get back in the fray of things, but not really knowing how to approach it, asked

“Well…so...do you know how to use the machine”

“No, but there is someone with training”

“Someone WAS trained how to use it?”

“No”

“Someone IS BEING trained how to use it?”

“No”

“Someone WILL BE trained how to use it?”

“No”

This is when the captain looks across the room at me with the help me out, before someone (i.e. Akmed) gets hurt look

“Well, I think we have all the information we need here” for the doctors at the asylum “and we hope to speak you about this later” I announced and we left.  And as we were leaving, we began to wonder that if it was such a confusing experience on our end, what do think of us as well.  I mean, how is information being translated to them…and you'll soon find out as we did in the next story.

As an afterward, I would like to add that the names have been changed in order to protect the security of those involved.  In fact, after the experience that we had, the Captain and I are thinking of changing our names as well.