Shakib Meets the Sea

I grew up in Southern California. I have no memory of my first encounter with the ocean. Not so Shakib. On Saturday he met the Pacific.

How do you prepare someone for such an event? It's rather like arranging a blind date. You know they're going to fall in love, so you set things in motion and let nature take its course.

Having risen to 102 degrees earlier in the week, the weather turned cold and cloudy on Saturday. But none of that mattered. It was love at first sight, goose bumps and all.

What a treat it was to watch Shakib's wonder at the strength of the waves and the vastness of the ocean!

At one point he asked "Is there land out there?" I said, "Yes, Japan and China." That put things into perspective.

We brought along his friend John who introduced him to all of the rites of beachdom -- frisbee, football, sand sculpting, and of course, burying each other.

I fear his mother's reaction when she sees the photo of her son up to his neck in sand. Will she misunderstand? Nah. The ecstatic look on his face says it all.

It was a day of firsts: Shakib's first glimpse of live girls in bikinis, his first beach bonfire, his first s'mores, his first sandwich that actually included sand, his first time in a swim suit, his first time being knocked off his feet by a wave, and his first gulp of salt water.

I told him that salt water in the eyes, up the nose, and down the gullet was a local rite of passage. He's now an official Southern Californian.

What do we do for an encore? For blind date number two?

Disneyland anyone? 

Sorry I can't post the close ups...

Registration Day

Shakib registered for school today.

He is attending an International Baccalaureate® school -- a public high school with a twist.

According to their website, IB schools offer a curriculum which helps "develop the intellectual, personal, emotional and social skills to live, learn and work in a rapidly globalizing world."

The New York Times ran a good article about IB in July. IB is a unique international collaboration blending the best practices from many nations into their educational methodology. More than 855,000 IB students attend 3,036 schools in 139 countries.  IB core values include international-mindedness and teaching students how to think and learn.

Shakib is required to complete 30 hours of community service, and IB students have a similar requirement so the school provides many volunteer opportunities during the school year.

This high school also has a uniform dress code. Given the difference in culture, we believe that a dress code will ease the transition to American school life, both helping Shakib to fit in and limiting the distractions that come with attending a co-ed school for the first time.

Given these advantages, we were eager to get Shakib into this school and were quite pleased when after 3 months of discussion we got a green light from the school district.

The school counselor who registered Shakib could not have been more helpful. She met with Shakib, Donna (the Regional Coordinator for American Councils), Jon, and me, answering all of our questions and giving us direction regarding everything from backpacks to school lunches. She took her time and really made us feel welcome.

Then there was the matter of his classes. Shakib is required by American Councils to take English and US History or Civics while he is here. Otherwise, class choices are up to him. His English assessment revealed that he is proficient but not yet fluent in English and resulted in a recommendation that he be placed in a Structured English Immersion / English Language Development class rather than English Literature.

The English Immersion path takes up two of Shakib's six periods. So after the addition of US History, he was able to choose 3 subjects. He chose Algebra I, Computers, and Spanish.

I wanted Shakib to choose his classes freely but had been hoping he'd pick at least one artsy class. He expressed an interest in music and drama from the moment he arrived here and said that wants to learn to sing and play piano. While at the Pre-Departure Orientation (PDO) in India, he competed in a singing contest and acted in a play.

When he looked back over his class list, I could tell that Shakib was a bit uneasy about something. He said that he was worried about US History since he had no background in that subject. While assuring him that he would do fine, we suggested he consider lightening his load by replacing the Spanish class with something fun.

He picked Drama, and it turns out that the drama class not only puts on 2 shows during the year but also takes field trips to a number of performances. Perfect! This class will be fun, exciting, and social - just what he needs.

As for Shakib's musical education, I am sure that Jon, a professional arranger, orchestrator and composer, and his father, Ray, a celebrated vocal arranger, will give Shakib an unforgettable musical education over the coming year.

Meanwhile, last night, I pulled out my guitar and Shakib and I sang together. He only knows a few American songs, which he learned at the PDO. All are easy to play standards: Oh What A Beautiful Morning; Oh My Darling Clementine; Shoo Fly; You Are My Sunshine; Bicycle Built For Two; Deep In The Heart Of Texas; Take Me Out To The Ballgame; Home On The Range; She'll Be Comin' Round The Mountain; Obladi Oblada; and Oh Susanna.

Alas, he also knows some Shakira and Rihanna songs, but that's where the generation gap comes in.

Maybe I can interest him in the Beatles.

"I will be a teacher"

I told the man at the US Embassy that I want to come back to Afghanistan and be a teacher. He said if I will be a teacher he will give me a visa. My country needs teachers. There are not enough and the people need to be educated. - Shakib

Sunday night was Family Movie Night at our house. We ordered pizza and watched "Speed." It was the only action movie that I found in our collection. And Shakib, whose favorite actor is Sylvester Stallone (i.e. Rambo), wanted action -- either that or horror.

He loved the movie, laughing at the jokes and enjoying the suspense as a busload of people careened down LA city streets and freeways with a bomb on board. He is clearly able to distinguish a fictional film from the daily threat of suicide bombs that he faced at home. Of course, the good guys prevailed. And the most uncomfortable scene for Shakib turned out to be the big kiss between Keanu Reeves and Sandra Bullock at the end.

After the movie, Shakib was especially talkative, sharing his vision for his life. It was the first time that he mentioned teaching as a possible career.

He says that in Afghanistan, he was chosen to teach English at his school. He earned extra money this way and enjoyed teaching. Many of his students were adult women. This is unusual for an Afghan teenager. Then again, Shakib is not a typical Afghan boy.

My impression after 12 days together is that Shakib is gentle, sensitive and kind. He says that he prefers the company of a few close friends because he finds most of his peers to be bullies. He does not like how they fight with each other nor how they taunt and tease the girls.

Although most Afghan students still attend unisex schools, Shakib says that they are now able to intermingle and develop friendships - at least in the capital where he lives. He often distinguishes between life in Kabul and life in the provinces, some of which are currently under Taliban control. Other provinces, though secure from the insurgents, are still very conservative in their practices.

While Kabul is currently secure from the Taliban and human rights have been restored, that was not the case when Shakib was a child.

The Taliban took power in Kabul in 1996. They targeted women for extreme repression, virtually placing them under house arrest. They issued edicts forbidding women to work outside the home, attend school, or to leave their homes unless accompanied by a male relative. In public, women had to be covered from head to toe in a burqa. Houses and buildings had to have their windows painted over so women could not be seen inside. Women were practically banned from public life, and denied access to health care, education, and work. They were not even allowed to laugh in a manner that could be heard by others. These edicts remained in force until the end of 2001 when Afghan Northern Alliance troops with American air support took back the capital after 9/11.

As a child, Shakib witnessed the beating of his mother and other women in the streets of Kabul. He was 8 years old when the Taliban were ousted from his city.

Shakib is the son of university-educated parents. His mother is an educator who continued to teach girls in her home during the reign of the Taliban. This was no secret school; however, she was required to teach only the state mandated curriculum for girls.

His mother has clearly been a big influence on him. He says she taught him that he must give back to his society and contribute. This is his duty. All of her children have attended university, and Shakib will too. After all, Afghanistan needs teachers.

Just how great is the need? According to UNICEF, the adult literacy rate (2003-2008) is only 28% and only 18% of girls age 15-24 can read.

I do not know if Shakib will become a school teacher. I am certain that he will go back and teach.

Mangia!

I have come to a profound conclusion about motherhood: Worrying is in the DNA. It can lie dormant for years. Then, enter a child, and all hell breaks loose. Worry flows through your bloodstream like heroin.

And what's the first thing Moms worry about? Food. Is he eating enough? Mangia! Mangia!

Shakib's mother called the other day ranting loudly about how skinny he is in his current photos and wondering if we were starving him.  Poor dear woman. Imagine sending your son halfway around the world into the hands of strangers, and then seeing in photos that he is much thinner than when he left home.

I swear this is not my fault. He arrived in LA skinny. He says that he barely ate during the month he was in India. He was homesick, and he did not like the food.

So now we have the task of fattening him up while he observes a 30-day fast.

Shakib assured his mom that we were forcing as much food on him as he could stand. He misses Afghani food so I got him a huge meal from the local Afghani restaurant for Saturday night. That was a big hit with both Shakib and Mom. Especially the rice. I also picked up chai and baklava.

OK, so it took me a week to learn New Mom Lesson 101: Feed them what they like and introduce new foods slowly.

But I am in the zone now.  I will be shopping this week at the local middle eastern grocery stores. Meanwhile, last night we had pizza...lots of pizza. And molten chocolate cake. This child has a sweet tooth!

Jon and I have the meal responsibilities divvied up. I do dinner, and Jon does the pre-dawn breakfast. This is how Jon described his morning routine in a recent email to a friend:

"At 3:40 a.m. my alarm goes off and I saunter into the kitchen to make breakfast for Shakib:

• Two fried eggs - over medium, cooked in butter (he can tell the difference from margarine)
• One bowl of Quaker oatmeal
• One peanut butter & butter sandwich on whole wheat bread 
• One banana
• One glass of milk
• One glass of orange juice
• One glass of water

"It takes him about a half hour to consume this. At 4:15 a.m., I fall down on the couch and sleep until 6:00 a.m., at which time a second alarm goes off and I start my formerly normal day."

Knowing that I, Mama Bear, will grill him on exactly how much porridge Baby Bear has consumed, Jon usually leaves a detailed note on my desk.

To all of our friends who have arisen for hundreds of midnight feedings while we slept soundly: We bow to you and grant you full permission to laugh at us, thankful that Ramadan ends on September 10th.

Meanwhile, I worry.

I survived Shakib's first bicycle excursion with a friend (oy vey!), and so did he.

As for the first day of school, maybe I should just bite all my nails now.

Grab your goat and get your hat...

"What kind of sports do you have in Afghanistan?" Jane asked Shakib the other night.

After reeling off a list of familiar activities -- soccer, tennis, golf, cricket, boxing, weightlifting -- Shakib mentioned one that none of us had ever heard of -- Buzkashi, the Afghan national sport.

Buzkashi (pronounced booze-kah-shee) literally means "goat grabbing." It takes place on horseback like polo, only it is played with a goat or calf carcass instead of a ball...seriously.

According to Afghanistan Online:  "In Buzkashi, a headless carcass is placed in the center of a circle and surrounded by the players of two opposing teams. The object of the game, is to get control of the carcass and bring it to the scoring area. Although it seems like a simple task, it is not. Only the most masterful players, (called chapandaz) ever even get close to the carcass. The competition is fierce, and the winner of a match receives prizes that have been donated by a sponsor. These prizes range from money, to fine turbans and clothes. In order for someone to become a chapandaz, one must undergo a tremendous amount of difficult training. In fact, the best chapandaz, are usually over the age of forty.

"The players are not the only ones who undergo arduous training; the horses that participate in Buzkashi must train for five years before ever making it to the playing field. Buzkashi, is indeed a dangerous sport, but intensive training and excellent communication between the horse and rider can help minimize the risk of injury."

The chapandaz make polo players look like wimps. Shakib, who has never played the sport, says that Buzkashi players actually whip the guy with the calf and "sometimes people die." The Wikipedia entry for Buzkashi states that "players may use any force short of tripping the horse in order to thwart scoring attempts. Riders usually wear heavy clothing and head protection to protect themselves against other players' whips and boots."

Although a short, tournament version of Buzkashi exists, games can last for several days. Go to Youtube and search on "Buzkashi" to see videos.

I don't think we'll be attempting Buzkashi any time soon, but the Charles Family does have a new theme song:

Grab your goat,
And get your hat.
Leave your woolies on the door steppe.
Life can be so sweet
On the Sunni side of the street.

What were we THINKING?

"Since you cannot do good to all, you are to pay special attention to those who, by accidents of time, or place, or circumstance, are brought into closer connection with you." — St. Augustine, Algeria

It all began with an email.

The message was forwarded by Sherry Simpson Dean, Executive Director of the United Nations Association Pasadena/Foothills Chapter, to Jon, who served as Board Secretary of the UNA for the past 6 years. Jon read the message then sent it to me where it sat in my inbox. Then I opened it and our lives changed.

The message was from Kara Lozier, a representative of American Councils which manages and implements the YES Afghanistan program for the US Department of State. She was looking for host families to provide homes for Afghan high school students for 2010-2011. It was mid-May, and the students would be arriving in August.

I instantly knew that I wanted to do this, but waited about an hour before I said anything to Jon. It turned out that Jon was all for it. So I called Kara and got the ball rolling.

We had to ensure that our school district would hold a place for a student before we could even apply to host. Once that was established, we rapidly moved through the process which included a lengthy application, a background check, reference checks with people who had been in our home (thanks Micki and Sherry), and an interview with Donna, the local area coordinator.

The Kennedy-Lugar Youth Exchange and Study (YES) Program was established in October, 2002, to provide scholarships for high school students (15-17 years) from countries with significant Muslim populations to spend up to one academic year in the US. Students live with host families, attend high school, engage in activities to learn about American society and values, acquire leadership skills, and help educate Americans about their countries and cultures.

While here, they are required to complete 30 hours of community service and to deliver at least 2 presentations educating others about their home country. Upon returning home, they join alumni associations, create opportunities to share their experiences with their countrymen, and conduct community service projects in their own cities and villages.

In Afghanistan this year approximately 4000 boys and girls applied for 40 scholarships. They wrote essays, submitted recommendations from their teachers, took English tests, and passed interviews with both American Councils representatives and officials at the US Embassy in Kabul.

All YES students are academically accomplished, bright, and talented. We were provided with the profiles of 4 wonderful boys (all of the girls were already placed). We chose Shakib. Lucky us!

What were we thinking on that day in May when we responded to Kara's email?

We were thinking: We have the resources. We are not wealthy by US standards but we are wealthier than 99% of the people who live on our planet. Over 1 billion people live on less than $1 a day. Over 2 billion live on less than $2 a day. We can do this.

We were thinking: We can provide love, support and guidance to a real person rather than just worry about the situation in Afghanistan.

We were thinking: We are surrounded by an extraordinary community of people who will welcome, appreciate and connect with our "son."

We were thinking: We can make a difference that ripples out to others in unforeseen directions and unimaginable ways.

We were thinking: Why not?

So we stopped thinking. And we acted.

"I can't smell that"

Every year, most of the world's 1.5 billion Muslims observe Ramadan - the month of fasting.

"Ramadan is the name of the ninth month of the Islamic lunar calendar and is the most respected and blessed month of the Islamic year....Participating Muslims abstain from food, drink and intimate relations with their spouses from dawn until sunset. They also refrain from impure or immoral actions, thoughts and words. Fasting is meant to purify the soul, refocus one’s attention on Allah (God), and teach the person patience, sacrifice and humility. Ramadan is a time to fast for the sake of Allah (God), to increase one’s prayers and acts of charity, as well as to place greater attention on self-accountability and self-restraint." [Excerpted from Ramadan in America by Imam Mohamad Bashar Arafat.]

This year Ramadan started on August 11 and will continue until September 10. Guess what that means? That's right. Shakib is fasting. Every day. From dawn until sunset.

Muslims do not have to fast while traveling.  In addition, he chose not to fast during his first 48 hours here so he could adjust to the time zone, eat, hydrate and recover from that long trip. He will, however, have to make up the missed days.

So early Monday morning Shakib began his official observance of the holy month.

I too arose at 4:15 a.m. in what I thought was plenty of time to prepare and serve a large breakfast. I assumed that he had to finish eating before sunrise and I had looked up the time online.

Not so. Shakib has to stop eating at first light. As the first glimmers of daylight filtered through the dining room window, our first parent-child tug of war commenced -- with Mom coaxing him to eat some more and Shakib succumbing for a few more bites, then firmly ending the meal.

I respect his beliefs and his commitment. At the same time, I knew that we were in for a rough day.

Shakib had an English assessment scheduled with the school district at 1:00 pm. On our way there, he reported that he felt dizzy. After the test, he came home and napped until dinner. I was out last night, but Jon fed him a big meal. Then he prepared himself for today's adventure.

I arrived home at 12:30 am to a note in my office proclaiming: "The Prince arises at 3:40 am. Breakfast is served at 3:45 am." I love my husband.

Shakib got plenty to eat and drink this morning with Jon pushing the fluids and the foodstuffs. Today went much smoother, and Shakib was strong enough to spend the evening with friends of our family - Doris, Joseph, and their teenage son, John - where he got his first taste of virtual Rock Band - playing electric bass on a simulator.

Of course, new details keep emerging.

On our way to Doris and Joseph's, we picked up a large urn of freshly made coffee for the United Nations Association "Coffee Talk" on Haiti that Jon was coordinating tonight. That's when Shakib announced, "I can't smell that. It will break my fast. My imam in Kabul told me."

What to do? Shakib covered his nose and rolled down the window until we reached our destination.

Does that mean it will be a problem for him if I throw a roast in the oven or simmer something smelly on the stove tomorrow?  Perhaps.

Stay tuned for new developments. Only 24 days until Eid.

"Get the Vans!"

On Saturday we shopped.

Well, first Jon and I got up early to meet our Team In Training group at the Rose Bowl for a run. We are training for the Honolulu Marathon in December.

We left Shakib at home with no mishaps. He simply ate his leftover pizza cold. Haven't we all? However, the cold pizza became the impetus for a microwave lesson.

Then we assessed his wardrobe. He was only allowed 1 suitcase and like young people the world over, some of his packing choices were a bit imbalanced -- 3 sets of pajamas, 1 pair of boxers.

In addition to spending money for incidentals, he also receives a modest clothing allowance. We set up a "teen" bank account and cashed his stipend check. Having heard horror stories of overspending, we declined the debit card and set up safeguards so that we control the account.

Our first stop at the mall was in the food court where we lunched on Chinese food. Then we hit the sale at JC Penny where we selected basics like socks, underwear, jeans and polo shirts (his school uniform code mandates collared shirts in specific colors).

I insisted that he purchase a bathing suit. Shakib chose a solid-colored, knee-length blue suit and modeled it for us. He seemed a bit embarrassed wearing it, but I stood firm.  This is Southern California…water, water everywhere. He will start swimming lessons this month. I want him to be water safe as soon as possible.

The last item on our list was tennis shoes. When we got to the shoe department, I realized that I needed expert advice so I called my older sister Jennifer. I knew that my fashionista niece and nephew -- Brenna 13 and Trevor 16 -- were with her. In fact, the family was driving through San Francisco in sight of the Golden Gate Bridge when she answered.

I explained what I was doing, and Jen asked the kids what brand of shoes were cool. The response from Trev and Brenna was unambiguous -- "Get the Vans!"

So we did.

And yes, Shakib looks uber-cool in his new shoes.

The Landing

Jon and I stood waiting in baggage claim with a welcome sign. As we scrutinized every face that appeared at the top of the escalator, we both acknowledged that we were nervous. And then there he was, our "son."

His journey to the US had taken 3 days. It started with a 13 hour bus ride from the American Councils orientation camp in Punjab, India, to the Delhi airport. Flights and layovers from Delhi to Dubai to Washington DC to LA took another 33 hours.

As we made our introductions, I was relieved to discover that his English is quite proficient and his accent did not get in the way much. 

My friend, Robin, passed on some great advice that she got before traveling to Tibet: "If you want to understand someone with an accent, don't listen to the accent." I'm taking that on.

We drove straight to Pasadena, then stopped for an early dinner. Shakib wanted pizza, so Calfornia Pizza Kitchen it was. It turned out that he hadn't eaten for 13 hours and was ravenous. He liked the pizza and the pasta that we ordered. We started to serve him some of our chopped salad then realized that it contained salami, i.e. pork. Oops!

Shakib is charming, confident, polite and very bright, and chatted easily with us over dinner. Upon arriving at our home, he presented us with gifts: Afghan and Indian jewelry for me and traditional Afghan clothing -  a perahan tunban and matching pants for Jon. It fit perfectly.

He met his first American girls - the granddaughters of our neighbor who are visiting from Vegas. Then he and Jon went to an outdoor concert in the park where Jon is manning the United Nations Association booth.

All day, I've been thinking about his parents in Afghanistan. It takes courage to send your teenage child (the youngest of 7) to the other side of the planet and trust that others will care and provide for him. It also takes great love to give him such an opportunity. They haven't seen Shakib since he left for the orientation camp a month ago and must be missing him terribly. I am sure that an empty nest feels the same all over the world. Kabul time is 11 1/2 hours ahead of us so I'll have him Skype them before bed.

We have learned other things about his background, but I'll save that for another day. He might be wide awake, but I'm exhausted. 

Jumping off the cliff

‎Living at risk is jumping off the cliff and building your wings on the way down. - Ray Bradbury

 

Shakib is in flight. He will be landing at LAX in 90 minutes. In 90 minutes our lives will take a new direction. 

 

I am thrilled, excited, scared, elated, but most of all deeply moved and touched by the opportunity ahead. 

 

We have been planning for this moment since May. We've been through our parent orientation and read the program handbook and materials. We've cleaned out our garage and guest room, reorganizing our home to prepare for Shakib's arrival.

 

Jon is 63. I am 50. We have never been parents before. How different is our experience from that of any other expectant parent? Not much I suspect. You read all the books on what to expect, and then you deal with reality. 

 

Bringing a child into your life causes upheaval. I expect ups and downs. And I expect to love this boy who is trusting us with his life, his experience, and his education for the next 11 months.   

 

Today we leap. We'll build our wings on the way down.