Taliban shmaliban, she said at the dinner table

This morning we had a midwife meeting and farewell party for three midwives (including the ward supervisor) who are leaving to take jobs at a new hospital that pays significantly more than we do. This hospital has drawn away several of our nurses as well. Well-intending outsiders come in with a lot of money, and don't realize how they disturb the fragile status of health care work here...

I spent the first hour and a half of the meeting explaining our new protocol for collaborative practice with the OBs and family medicine doctors and the new charts that we're testing out in March. This went over fairly well. Then the midwives who were leaving said a few tearful words, and the foreign staff said a few words, and everyone cried and ate cake. Then I handed out CPR certificates. Afghans love certificates.

This afternoon was Dari class, learning plural nouns and negative imperative verbs. It was an absolutely gorgeous afternoon, so I walked home, enjoying a bit of freedom and sunshine. Then I called our driver and told him in Dari that I didn't need a ride home. I get such a kick out of speaking Dari (regardless of how much like a preschooler I sound).

This evening a friend came over and we read the Ash Wednesday service together and imposed ashes. I'm always in church for Ash Wednesday, except for a half dozen years ago in Kathmandu, where I also did a small service at home with friends.

So now it's Lent, which I explained to an Afghan colleague as "like Ramadan for Christians." Except maybe not quite so communally and universally observed. Or so stringent in its requirements of the faithful. But it is my favorite season of the church year. One of the admonitions we hear in the Ash Wednesday service is to wash while fasting--which here has just been made easier by a new shower in our house. Very exciting.