January 15, 2002

Chinese Version

Afghanistan relief team diary-January 15

Afghanistan-Tzu Chi relief team leaves Afghanistan today.

Before eight o'clock this morning, as the sky began to brighten, Dr. Edward Artis, Walter Ratterman, Steve Huang and Kudo, our Afghan interpreter, went to the ruins of the ancient town they saw yesterday at the foot of the mountain. Without having had any breakfast, they began their survey. They wanted to experience the living conditions of the refugees during the cold hours of the morning.

After the survey, we prepared for the relief distribution. Having seen the conditions of the refugees' dwellings earlier in the morning, we decided that any supplies left over should be given to the refugees here.

The volunteers were all ready to go. After putting on our shoes and getting in the car, we rushed toward the ancient ruins. The uphill road had turned muddy after the recent snow, and our car got stuck halfway. A few kind Afghan friends saw our mishap and quickly came to help. However, no matter how hard we tried, we were not able to free the car. Then Brother Chen Chin-fa arrived in another car. When he pitched in to help, our car climbed free right away. Chin-fa said, "So, I was that one extra person you guys needed." We responded, "Of course, as we do charity work in Tzu Chi, we can't ever do without you!" The will of each individual is precious, for every person is a force in helping humanity.

When we arrived at the town, we jumped right into setting up for the distribution. After working together for the past few days, Tzu Chi and Knightsbridge International volunteers understood each other well, so within half an hour, all the supplies were in place.

Prior to the relief distribution, Edward and Steve expressed deep concern for the local Afghans. Whether we are Muslim, Christian, or Buddhist, we are all brothers and sisters and we share the same faith-the Great Love among human beings. The opening ceremony was short and simple, but from the attentive eyes and joyous applause of the refugees, we could see that along with the resources that would bring them warmth and nourishment, we had also passed to them the spirit of mutual assistance. Perhaps not at this time, but certainly one day in Afghanistan there will be no turmoil; in its place, concern and care for each other shall blossom.

When the refugees walked up with their tickets to receive their allotments of relief supplies, I saw a little girl who had come by herself to get her heavy package. While I was deeply moved and wanted to take photos of her, I also began worrying about who would help her carry all those things back home. As I snapped my camera, Brother Hung Chi said to me with delight, "This is the first good deed I've done today." He told me that when he had arrived at the town, this girl had walked up to him and cried helplessly. She continuously pled with him. Although stoic on the outside, he was soft-hearted on the inside. He was not able to turn away from this distressful outburst, so he found a translator. This weeping five-year-old girl was trying to tell him that her family consisted of eight people who lived in two separate places, four in each. On her side, two were out begging for food and another had gone to visit an aunt. While she was outside gathering firewood for the family, some other refugees in the neighborhood had gone inside her house and pretended to live there. So when Kudo came by to give out tickets for the relief supplies, they got her ticket instead. When she returned home, she found that that her supply ticket had been stolen. While the neighbors would receive relief supplies, she would get nothing. Out of desperation, the girl asked for help. In order to survive under these trying conditions, this child had become strong and mature beyond her years.

Brother Hung saw that the supply tickets had all been given out and that the distribution was about to begin, so he quickly asked Kudo for help, hoping that he could find another ticket for this girl. At last, the youngster was able to relax as she sat and waited upon the piles of relief supplies. Seeing Brother Hung's smile, I believed that the end of this story was going to be a happy one.

As the distribution ended, everyone was filled with indescribable joy, because we had forged friendships with the refugees in this last morning in Afghanistan. Steven Huang, the director, called this mission the beginning of the "compassion movement." In this short amount of time, Dr. Artis and he were able to plan carefully and exercise Master Cheng Yen's principles in this poor land. We chose to help everyone, including the untruthful, so that no one in need would be mistakenly neglected. In a short time, resources were utilized for the most important function of saving lives.

We picked up our belongings at the provincial governor's home in preparation for leaving the country. Prior to departing, the team members thanked the local friends who had ensured our safety during the past few days. Knowing that these Afghans lacked winter clothing and daily necessities, the volunteers acted like visiting relatives who were departing and gave away all their unused, new winter clothing and gear. Meanwhile, Steve's Polaroid captured historical mementos. As the photos emerged, we bid a sorrowful farewell. Who knew if we would meet again in this lifetime? While the future was uncertain, we knew that we were grateful for their tireless company. Were it not for them, our relief efforts could not possibly have been successful and our journey could not have been secure. Thank you all!

After leaving the governor's house, we visited his office to thank him for his support throughout this mission. Steve also assured him that Tzu Chi would return, because we were all friends and brothers. The governor replied, "Thank you for coming from so far away to help my people. Today, I would like to give you these pakul hats and scarves that symbolize the Afghan spirit and culture, as small tokens of our appreciation. Please accept them." We accepted one set to present to Master Cheng Yen. Parting always brings sorrow, but we believe that the compassionate minds and noble vows of Tzu Chi people are unending, so we are bound to return again to serve our Afghan families.

We eagerly looked forward to our last stop in Afghanistan: to return and visit the friends at the Shadien refugee camp. When we arrived, we saw that the people's faces no longer showed cold indifference. Instead, they were welcoming and excited. Hospitality permeated the air as if we were visiting relatives from far away. We stood atop a high hill and looked upon this refugee camp which had once been full of suffering, but which now had hope and strength. We were relieved.

Kudo filmed a segment for Great Love TV to express his gratitude to Master Cheng Yen. He said, "Thanks to the Venerable Master for sending people here in such a short time in our most desperate hour. I know that there are many others in the world that need help, so we thank you for not giving up on us despite the dangers here. I myself was a refugee, so I can truly appreciate the importance of immediate assistance. Thank you, Tzu Chi, and thank you for your compassion, Venerable Master." Upon finishing these words, Kudo began leading a chorus of "Happy Birthday to You." It was brother Chih-ying's birthday. He was moved and smiling with embarrassment. This day, on which the mission to Afghanistan was accomplished and his birthday celebrated amongst the refugees, will always be a most unforgettable memory for him.

After the short reunion, we had to be on our way. The men of the camp climbed onto surrounding hills while the women stood in front of their tents to give us a joyous sendoff. They applauded and cheered in unison, "Tashker, tashker, tashker (thank you)!" We remembered the night we came, when we carried bags of rice together under drifting snow. Tears filled our eyes and our steps quickened, for we were not the heroes they thought we were. What we could do was limited, and we could not stay with them for long. We did not deserve such tribute by this entire community. However, we believe that where love exists there is no loneliness, and where love exists there is courage. Their road back home was still long, but with basic survival needs met, they now have the courage to face the coming days. Hope is waiting for them in the near future.

The car traveled further and the scenery outside the window was plain and repetitive, but the images imprinted in our minds played again and again: the children without shoes, the fearful, shy housewives, the helpless mothers, and the melancholy and suffering faces. Afghanistan, I weep for you. Afghanistan, I am wiser because of you. Afghanistan, I see your hope. Afghanistan, may you leave suffering far behind.

Around two o'clock in the afternoon, we arrived at the Friendship Bridge on the border of Uzbekistan. However, there were important figures visiting the nation, so the border was closed. It was uncertain whether we could make it across or not. We had planned to board the plane to Tashkent at 5 p.m., but that seemed unlikely now. Dr. Artis said that if we did not cross the border, we would need to spend the night in Mazar-e-Sharif with him and Walter and make new plans the next day. If we could cross the border before nightfall, then we would stay in Termiz and take the morning flight to Tashkent at 7 a.m.. In the five days we had spent in Afghanistan, changes of plans had become the norm, so we quickly adapted to the situation. As long as we made progress, every step was a step forward.

During the wait, Kudo gave us pakul hats as tokens of deep friendship and wrote our Afghan names for us. He hoped that we would return soon for another effort to help his people. As the moment to part approached, we could only embrace each other. We had only spent a few days together, but Kudo's calm, collected temper, his decisiveness, and his patience made our entire team respect him with high regard. He will be Tzu Chi's first seed in Afghanistan.

We received permission to cross the border. We stepped across the line to Uzbekistan and turned around. Facing our good friends who stood on the other side: Dr. Edward Artis, Walter Ratterman, and Kudo, we suddenly felt the grief of not knowing if we would ever meet again. It was when I gave Kudo that final Muslim-style embrace that I reached a firm conclusion: I know that Tzu Chi will return, and it will be at a time when they truly need us.

As we waved and bade farewell, it was actually the beginning of the next mission. Dr. Artis and Mr. Ratterman would head to Mazar-e-Sharif that very night. They would purchase relief supplies for the following week. Bodhisattvas never rest. We pray that all will go well, so that with their selfless efforts, more refugees can hope to see the arrival of spring.