Afghanistan and America. War and Peace. Conquest and Courage ©

As I write this, I realize I have only questions and no conclusions.  I am confused, deeply.  Therefore, I turn to you dear reader and ask you to share your thoughts.

I swim daily and have for years.  I do so in a community pool.  The village I live in is quite diverse.  There is a large Asian population. Persians are prevalent.  Hispanics are plentiful.  The black populace is growing and of course, there are Caucasians.  They intermingle, and yet, they are separate.  Their lives are so connected and their stories are not, or are they.

I am a conversational soul; I enjoy engaging with others.  I love learning, and; therefore I ask much.  In asking, often, I discover what I cannot imagine.  Today I was reminded of this.

A woman I swim with, and have for a time, is from Afghanistan born and raised.  Her family still lives there, as do her friends.  She did not leave her homeland; she courageously fled.  Her heart and her mind remain in her country of origin.  Tonight. I ask her of the war and America’s involvement.  She favors it.

As I write this, I realize I have only questions and no conclusions.  I am confused, deeply.  Therefore, I turn to you dear reader and ask you to share your thoughts.

I swim daily and have for years.  I do so in a community pool.  The village I live in is quite diverse.  There is a large Asian population. Persians are prevalent.  Hispanics are plentiful.  The black populace is growing and of course, there are Caucasians.  They intermingle, and yet, they are separate.  Their lives are so connected and their stories are not, or are they.

I am a conversational soul; I enjoy engaging with others.  I love learning, and; therefore I ask much.  In asking, often, I discover what I cannot imagine.  Today I was reminded of this.

A woman I swim with, and have for a time, is from Afghanistan born and raised.  Her family still lives there, as do her friends.  She did not leave her homeland; she courageously fled.  Her heart and her mind remain in her country of origin.  Tonight. I ask her of the war and America’s involvement.  She favors it.
I am surprised.  This quiet woman is not the first or only Afghani I have spoken to of the conflict.  I am familiar with many of her countrymen.  Those I am acquainted with reject American aggression.  They think Americans are trespassing, invading, killing, and maiming in a country that, long ago, was bombed back to the Stone Age.  

Numerous Afghanis living in the US or at least in my neighborhood, see the war as one without reason or justice.  They are concerned for those still living on their native soil.  Those I spoke with in the past, wonder why the United States would wish to shell a defenseless society.  They think America’s war policy is wrong.  However, this woman believes America was right. She is thankful that the United States attacked Afghanistan.  This gentle woman is the first Afghani I have known to support the violence.  

I want to understand why.  I ask.  She says she cannot speak of it.  She states the memories trigger her asthma.  I am baffled.  I truly want to learn from her experience. Yet, my questions will wait.  I recall from the past that she shares stories slowly, in time.  I am patient; yet left to ponder.

For Further Reflection . . .

Betsy L. Angert Be-Think

Author: Betsy L Angert

I am a being that believes . . . "thinking is the best way to travel!"