A Journey for Permission

As we rode up the valley in the director's Russian four wheel car, I was a bit nervous.  We were about to meet the local district leader and I kept peppering Abdul Nazar with questions and potential situations.  I was going to be sitting quiet while he represented his organization and in effect our project.  I was worried about a handful of questions and just wanted to make sure that everything would go smoothly.  We arrived and walked up to the whitewashed building.  There in front was a smiling woman with her hand outstretched.  That seemed to be a good sign so we went into the office and sat down.

Abdul Nazar, our first Business Adviser began to explain our project to the smiling woman.  We were going to open an office in her district to help people start small businesses.  We were going to provide trainings and classes for those who want to learn.  At this she got really excited.  She was very happy that we were going to open our first office in her district to help her people and then she started to talk about how the people really needed the training and the skills to start small businesses.  Abdul Nazar talked about all the organizations and banks in Khorogh that provide small loans and help for small businesses, but people do not know how to make their business succeed. They just lack basic business management training.
   
As he finished by telling the concerned leader about how we would be providing free internet to poor families that had children in other countries working.  She nodded her head in agreement and said in Russian, "xarasho."(it is good)  We wrapped up the presentation to the very excited local leader with confidence that we were on the right track.  She was very happy with our project and was glad we were going to be helping the people.  There were a few administrative items that we needed to do like write up a formal letter stating our intentions in the district and our goals, but it was just formality.  We had our approval to move forward.

On the way back we took an older man who had a fifty kilogram (110pound) sack of flour and a big jug of vegetable oil that he said the president had given him on the recent visit.  He was heading home to his house out in a village.  We let him out on the edge of a field by the mud covered rock houses.  It was a reminder of the poverty and how far we had to go.



Villagers sifting wheat on a flat patch of dirt in front of a mudded rock home.