It's been a long day

Well, I'm not getting much of an original post out tonight. It's been a long day and I'mbe eat. I was on the road at 07:00 to go to Islamabad for a meeting at 11:00, then talking to folks at the head office, I had to really put the fear of Allah into one of our contractors on the housing project, and then drive back here. I have to say, the seats in our Toyota Prado are about as uncomfortable as they are good looking. Like I say, they look great, but they slope down at the back and create a pinch in my legs and if the chair is not all the way back...this is more detail then any one needs. Let's just say the the Pakistan roads are rough on your backside.

So, what to write about? My frustration with my Pakistani counterparts who are refusing to do what we ask of them or are happy to continue to tell me things are going great when they are not? I guess the contractor I spoke to today is a good place to delve into the character of the folks here.

Nice enough guy, Khurshid is his name. But he lies. Constantly, consistently, without shame or remorse. He just can't help himself. Agreeability and assent to wathever the boss asks is jsut the way of the place. For example, while trying to prove another point, he pulled out an email from June 9th where he said he had 50 houses, "almost near to 100%" completion and would deliver them in "15 days". It is now 1 August and he has delivered 42 houses. "yes, but that is not what I want to talk about..." I'll bet!! I don't want to talk about it either, but we have to. And the point he was trying to prove: that we had not responded to an earlier email. So I just flipped forward one page, and there was the response. He lied when he himself had the evidence to the contrary. Incredible.

Anyway, the contract for 200 houses is supposed to be done by 9 October. Ain't no way that is going to happen. And he knows it. So now he's sweatin' bullets and shittin' razor blades. He wants another 75 days. The late penalty is .1% per day, so for 200 houses, that amounts to a free house every 5 days. No extension means he loses $60,000. And that presumes he can produce 8 houses a week. Which he can't. And he can give no reasonable explanaion of why he should get extra time. Amazing.

Anyway, the reason I write this is that I tried to get him to drop his fast talking, bullshitting ways and own up to the truth. He's the kind of guy who will tell you what he thinks you want to hear. I asked him to find the honest, honorable person inside him, the person who is not afraid of the truth, and let that man talk to me. And then I asked him to tell me the truth. I said, maybe I've been sent here to force you, finally, to confront your personal issues and finally, for once, tell someone the truth. I said if you tell me the truth, I will advocate your side, but if you lie, or if you are so deceived even you don't know the truth, then I will argue against you, and everything you have built will be destroyed. Your business, your good name, we will take it all, force the court to liquidate everything to settle the contract. YOur company will no longer exist. Think before you answer.

The answer, of course, is "Mr. David, I made a HUGE mistake. I signed this contract without even reading it because all I could see was the $160,000 advance. I had no idea what I was doing and still don't and now I am in trouble. All those times you came to my work site and tried to tell me the kind of problems I was having and the things I had to do to fix them and I just said it would be fine and that you shouldn't worry, those dozens of times and pleaded with me to help me, well, you were right and I was wrong. I'm sorry, I need your help now. Please.' That was the right answer.

He thought for a minute. I could see I precipitated a tiny bit of introspection. A bit. He thought some more. Looked up and said, "Three things. Your predecessor made things very difficult for us. The beneficiaries are not helping. And..." I cut him off. Wrong answer. "Khurshid", I said, "You signed the contract. No one put a gun to your head. You signed a contract and you had no idea what you were getting into. Did you read it? Do you know what this says? I know you read the part about the $160,000. I know you took the whole family out to dinner that night, didn't you? (he nodded) I am sorry to tell you but I will argue that you not get an extension and the we force you to adhere to the letter of the contract and if that means bankruptcy, well, you are still relatively young. You are an entrepreneur, you can do it again. You have destroyed your company, but they will let you keep your car, your house and your family. And you know what, even though you have destroyed your honor, you still have your brain. And with that brain, you can decide to be honest. It is up to you."

He was stunned. We talked a bit more, but I"ve had it with this sort of behavior. There are two other contractors, and I am not giving them an inch either. There will be blood on the floor of my office. Let's just hope it is not mine. But, agreeable to the last, what did he do after I promised him I would destroy everything he built, ruin his whole life and force him to start over? He thanked me!!

OK, I'm beat. I put a guy through the wringer today, and while it had a certain, 'just desserts" quality to it, it was also very tiring.

OK, More later,
Sourmash

Notes from the Macedonia desk...

My Pakistan piece is still incomplete, so here's an old one from New Year's '05...

Well folks, just got back from Macedonia, “Land of the unsightly facial lesions” to coin a phrase. Yikes, that place still can send a shiver up your spine. This trip brought together all the things I hate most and love most about the Balkans. It really could not have been better. I thought I might write a bit and you can see if any memories come back to you as they did to me.

As international travelers are aware, the US has enacted a policy of “pushing out” our borders, checking passengers and cargo at the point of origin, long before it reaches our shores. ID and security checks for flights to the US are just as rigorous in other countries as they are in the US. You don’t have to remove your shoes to fly from Zurich to Amsterdam, but you do from Zurich to Chicago. You can feel the reach, the influence of the US before you even take off. But the people of Balkans have been doing this for years. I felt as is we were there before we even got on the plane. Standing in line in Zurich, we were surrounded by the usual Balkans array: a sea of bad leather jackets and fake fur, greasy twerps with close set eyes fidgety from too much caffeine, heavy set mafiosi with leather jackets over their adidas track suits, aging bottle blond wives loaded with duty free shopping bags, young punkers heading home for the holidays, old babas returning alone from visits to ex-pat relatives and all of them with way too much carry on luggage, pushing to get on, no order in the line, no patience. And this is still in Zurich mind you. Once on the plane, it was a zoo. People sitting anywhere, carry on luggage just left on a seat, arguments breaking out over who sits on the windows and who on the aisle, smokers lighting up, people refusing to buckle up, and on and on. And of course, my favorites, the rousing applause when we land followed immediately by people standing up and opening overhead bins before we are even off the runway. Welcome to the Balkans.

We arrived on the 31^st, but owing to a late departure from Chicago, our bags did not. I had to head out in the mid-winter Balkans gloom to the Bit Pazaar, the Skopje gypsy market to pick up spare socks and underwear. Once there had to make our way along the sidewalk of broken concrete and crumbling asphalt through rows of upturned boxes piled high with “strike-anywhere” firecrackers and roman candles of decidedly dubious quality.

As we turned the corner, I stopped to survey the whole scene. A riotous mass of people and vehicles and market stalls, people jostling, buying, selling, arguing, drinking, eating, smoking. Puddles of stagnant, oily blackwater were everywhere; runty, mangy dogs sniffed around the periphery as old men in soiled skull caps kicked them away. The dark air was heavy with bus exhaust, smoke and soot, fly ash settled on everything and the air resounded with honking horns, grinding bus gears and squealing brakes and regular explosions set off as product demos. Random piles of burning garbage and thick clouds of smoke coming from the dumpsters completed the scene. Honest to god, it was like some little Balkans version of hell. The welded sheet metal and angle iron shop stalls with their chipped green paint were overloaded, as usual, with every imaginable kind of household good and clothing, all of it cheap Turkish and Asian knockoff goods: “SOMY” electronics and “Durcel” batteries and “Dail” soap and the like. They had virtually everything except cotton socks and boxer shorts. After digging through piles of flip-flops and plastic kitchen utensils, I finally located acceptable underwear and we went home.

Home, in Skopje these days, is my brother-in-law’s mother-in-law’s house, a 4 room place in the Albanian section of town he shares with his wife, two sons, mother-in-law and sister-in-law. Add in our three, and there were nine people in the four rooms. Somehow we all fit and no one had to sleep on the floor. Don’t you just love the Balkans?

We went out to the New Year’s celebrations in the city center, an event designed to celebrate the completion of renovations to both the old bridge and the main square. The square has been repaved and was decked out for the celebration with a canopy of lights, several neon palm trees topped off by a lighted Christmas tree in the center of the whole thing. Although well lit, it was alas, poorly amplified so the sound was fairly lost in the crowd. The fireworks, however, were great, a full 15 minutes of booms and sparkles and bright flares lighting up the Skopje night. We went home happy, accompanied by the gunfire usual for these events in this part of the world.

“Skopje became a big city” declared the proud headline the next day. Unfortunately, they didn’t realize how right they were. It seems one of the bullets fired into the sky came down and lodged in the chest of a young woman, eventually killing her when the city hospital didn’t identify the problem fast enough. This quickly became a major political issue with politicians blaming each other on TV for the tragedy. As a veteran of the Chicago Bulls winning seasons in the 1990’s I saw this happen all too often. Welcome to the big city, folks.

Once our bags arrived we were able to make our way to Kriva Palanka, my Peace Corps site and my wife’s home town. This trip brought back all kinds of memories, good and bad. With no clothes, I had not showered since Chicago, intimidated as I was by the bathroom’s wintertime open windows in my host’s home and the hatbox-sized water heater. The rooms were always either too hot, too cold or, by some physics defying miracle, both at the same time. As they came off the line my clothes were frozen solid. I had to make that anguished nighttime decision, “Do I stay barely warm here in bed with a full bladder or do I make a run for it and freeze for 20 minutes while I warm up the bed again?” There was cold food, cold radiators and cold weather inside and out. Somehow, I am not really sure how, they did manage to keep the beer warm. I had truly forgotten how awful the Balkans can be.

On the good side, Skopje is undergoing a building boom and several (not all) of the old concrete shells that seemed to be sitting there forever have been finished. Lots of new apartments are going up and a few new hotels and many new shops have opened. As I said before, the main square is newly paved and the old bridge is completely renovated. A bit of the charm is lost, but the walking surface is smoother and wider and the whole thing just has a better look. There’s still a lot of trash on the streets and urchins, as usual, abound, but all in all the place looks better than it did even a year ago when I left. The seething anti-Americanism has abated somewhat due to the Bush administration’s recognition of Republic of Macedonia as the official name. This was followed quickly by Russia, China, most of the former Soviet Union and several banana republics. A few EU countries are making noises about recognition this year. Of course there were several folks I talked to who were sure the US had caused the tsunami in the Indian Ocean. Whatever.

Daily life is the same, though. The food hadn’t changed. At all. Ajvar everywhere. Nor had the rakia. My father in law’s homebrew can still peel the enamel off your teeth and make it feel like you’re being poked in the eye. From the inside.

Unfortunately the growth in new car ownership seems to have stalled, as has the replacement of older socialist wheels with newer European models. Several new car stores have closed. Tied to the Euro, the denar is going up fast against the dollar making things a lot more expensive for us dollarized tourists. An overvalued currency also encourages spending on imports and on foreign travel, something Macedonia, starved for investment and local spending really doesn’t need.

The worst thing is the general dissatisfaction among my friends. The new Social Democratic government appears to be every bit as corrupt and rapacious and yes, murderous as the last Nationalist one. You’ll remember that the last government decided to demonstrate their solidarity in the war on terror by dragging some poor Pakistani unfortunates, themselves victims of human traffickers, to the hills near Albania, shooting them, dressing them in Albanian rebel uniforms and inviting the US Ambassador to see how the brave Macedonian police uncovered and disposed of an Al Qaeda cell RIGHT HERE IN EUROPE!! If you read carefully, though, you’ll see they got the order wrong and shot them BEFORE putting on the uniforms.

The perps of that little incident are now in jail, but the new government, while leaning on a Chinese immigrant who had just opened a restaurant, miscalculated. The guy pulled a knife and killed one of the mobsters before his partner shot the restaurant owner. As bad as they were, the Nationalists only picked on the big guys. The Socialists, it seems, are leaning on everyone. And the attitudes of my friends, most of whom are pretty positive thinking people, have all gone south. Hard to find an optimist in Kriva Palanka these days.

Another disappointing situation was the public dispute about giving aid to the tsunami victims. The general consensus, in public, on TV, in the papers seemed to be that since Macedonia is poor, they didn’t have to give anything. It was only when it was pointed out that the people of Indonesia and Sri Lanka and India and the rest of the Indian Ocean rim had contributed generously to relief after Skopje’s 1963 earthquake did wallets begin to crack open a bit. Not everyone felt this way, but enough to make it an ugly situation. Not their best moment, for sure.

So, does this bring back any memories, all you old Balkans hands?

Ambassador Ryan Crocker stinks

I'm working on a Pakistan piece, but it is just growing and growing. I might have to do it in two or three pieces. We'll see.

In the mean time, chew on this one: "Also Thursday, US Ambassador Ryan Crocker said increased US troop strength had brought down violence, but it was impossible to rush political reconciliation..." This is Ryan Crocker, the US Ambassador to Iraq. This is the guy who, along with Gen. Dave Petraeus, is going to ask for more time for the "surge" in Iraq to work when they come to DC in September to give the assessment that is, or at least was, supposed to be when we know if Iraq can be salvaged.

Anyway, this is not Crocker's first job. Although he is a "GWOT guy" (Global War On Terror) as we call them, he has done other things, too. In fact, Ambassador Crocker was just in charge of the US Embassy in, of all places, Pakistan. Is there another place on earth that is as sensitive and whose US relations are as poorly managed as those in Pakistan right now? Outside of Iraq, I think not. It is just amazing how they keep putting these incompetents in charge of serious stuff. He is the one who oversaw the "peace" deal in Waziristan with the tribes that has lead to the border areas becoming a haven for Al Qaeda. This guy is a chump and ime will show that Ryan Crocker is just not up to the job.

The Bush Adminstration has had exactly one major foreign policy success in the last two years, the agreements in North Korea. This was not due to anyone in Washington, but to the efforts and hard work of my old friend Chris Hill, who was a big part of settling the Balkans. And where is Hill now? Mopping up in East Asia. Amazing. Anyway, look for Chris to have a major role in the coming Democratic administration. He's an old friend of the Secretary of State in waiting, Richard Holbrooke, and given his accomplishments, skill and success at working for both Democrats and Republicans, I would expect him to be Holbrooke's number two at State. You heard it here first.

More Iraq: I read today in the NY Times that the government of Iraq is refusing to take over the infrastructure projects paid for by US taxpayers. Now, I don't much about a lot of things, and there are just a few things about which I know a little tiny bit, but when it comes to working infrastructure projects in post-conflict and post-disaster situations, I know more than your average bear. There are three things you need when you do these sorts of projects: the consent of the community where they are going in, (better to have their active participation, best is to have their outright cooperation and a monetary contribution), a plan for operation once it is completed, including people with the proper maintenance skills and a way to pay for it, and a government or private entity with the proper funding and support from the community and long term out look to ensure that the thing will be taken care of in the long term.

I know this. My colleagues in the business know this. Only one of those people was in Iraq. None of the rest of us got jobs in Iraq. Those went to 25 year old Republicans from Texas who went with no experience, no understanding of the local conditions and no desire to learn. This is the result.

Ticking time bombs

Well, I'm keeping at it. So far. When I was in the US for two weeks, Pakistan was big in the news. I see that has slowed considerably, but at the time, everyone was worried about me and my safety. Fear not, friends, my little corner of Pakistan is calm and peaceful. But there is a bomb on the horizon, a big one, and it is going to reverberate louder and longer than most.

Here's the story. Pakistan has about 165 million people. The child and infant mortality rate of Pakistan as a whole is 10% as reported in the Economist. This means that 10% of the children die before they reach the age of 5. I know several people who have had children die since I got here. Pakistan is a net emigrant country, supplying people not just to the traditional immigration countries of the US, Canada and Australia, but also to England due to colonial ties and places like the Persian Gulf states, (Pakistanis built Dubai, the UAE, and much of Saudi Arabia), Europe and, to a lesser extent, Central Asia. If you read my previous post, you understand why: Life in Pakistan is pretty much awful. In fact, when I had some contractors in from Turkey, they reported many requests for visas. People feel it would be better to be an illiterate, unattached itinerant worker in Turkey than at home in Pakistan? Makes you think.

Lastly, life expectancy is in the low 60s. So, children die, people leave, and everyone dies young. Yet with all these population pressures, you'd think the place was going to empty out. In fact, Pakistan's population is predicted to double in 25 years, to over 300 million people. Ka-boom!! The numbers are just scary. What are all these people going to do? How will they eat? And with the Himalayan glaciers melting, where will they get water? It is just too awful to think about. More tragedies on the way.

Have a great day.

Greetings from Pakistan

I'm writing this as I finish, I hope, my last few days of over a year spent in Pakistan. I've been meaning to put a blog together and a good friend finally inspired me to do it. I can't think of a better forum for me and I may go back and post some old stuff I have written in teh past few years, out of date though it may be.

I hope to put up a post everyday, so let's see how I can keep up.

Pakistan has been a great adventure. A friend asked what I will miss most about this place after I leave, and, once I got past the people I have known and friends I have made here, I didn't have much else to say. Sensing my uncertainty, he asked what I would remember most or what made the biggest impression. Of course, this was me, so it took a while for me to figure it out.

I first said I would miss having so much to do, always feeling like the job was getting away from me. Then I thought that what was really so memorable was all there was to do for EVERYBODY. This place is just so far behind on the development curve, it is pitiable. Arguably the greatest natural disaster of our lifetimes occurred here in Pakistan on 8 October, 2005. 75,000 people died; not as big as the Christmas 2004 tsunami, but 2.8 million people were left homeless. In October. In the Himalayas!! The fact that there wasn't a second wave of deaths, from exposure, from malnutrition, from disease, is nothing short of miraculous. But before all this, on 7 October, 2005, every infrastructure system in the region was stretched to the breaking point or beyond: electric, water, sewage, transport, education, health care and on and on. Not one was adequate to the demands placed on it. And the eathquake destroyed what little capacity they had. And yet, these people survived and continue on, making the most out of the bad hand that life and Allah have dealt them. And never, not once, did anyone beg me for anything, or demand that I MUST give them a job or relief supplies. Not once. The people of Pakistan have an admirable pride and self-reliance that you don't see just everywhere. In fact, this was the first for me in my career.

But they are poor. The biggest impression I leave Pakistan with is, by far, the poverty. I know, I know, this is South Asia, where the poverty is of a breed and character unique in the world, but good lord this place has some desperately poor people. I've seen people eating out of SEWERS, fer cryin' out loud, and, not to make a Monty Python skit about it, they were the ones lucky enough to have sewers to eat out of.

And for wrenching, grinding, dehumanizing poverty? On the list of places and occupations that qualify you to claim you live in "Hell on Earth", the bonded laborers in Pakistani brick kilns move pretty much to the head of the line as far as I am concerned. These people are, for all intents and purposes, slaves, with no rights of any kind. And as bad as it is for them, imagine being a kid there. Field laborers in the agricultural provinces are routinely brutalized by their overlords. Women and girls are raped, men beaten,jailed, even murdered if they complain. It's horrible, and nothing is done to end it. As if you could. With no skills, no land, no means of support, and of course no social, economic, political or legal rights, building the social infrastructure of all of the above will cost billions and take years. Just the time to build the schools and train the teachers for all the kids is a half decade process. And who's going to buy the books and uniforms and keep the lights on and all the rest? And the schools only take them for a couple hours a day for a few months of the year. What would they all do? Who's gonna watch out for them? Teach them about money and managing it and applying for a job and giving them job training and buying and maintaining property and all the rest. Not to say these people are stupid or incapable of dealing with all these things, far from it. But good lord, you can't take a person out of chains, pat them on the back and say, "you're free" and expect them to be able to cope with the myriad challenges of life, challenges that frankly, many people I know with a lot more money, education and privileges have a hard time dealing with, too.

OK, It's late. I'll try to get back to this tomorrow. Here's hoping I can keep this up!!