A Polish Journey: From Exile, Enslavement Camps to Camp Polo in Ahvaz!

The taxi driver pulled away from the airport going towards our hotel. We had just landed at the airport in Warsaw, Poland. I looked behind and told one of my colleagues, “I love Poland!” She laughed out loud, wondering how I could express love for a place which I had barely spent an hour in!!! That was my first of two trips to Poland, where I served as a trainer with the United States Institute of Peace (USIP). I wondered why I showed such a level of enthusiasm for Poland!

After I came back from Warsaw I decided to revisit all I knew about Poland, which was limited to my knowledge of the great Polish football teams of the 70s and 80s, and the players Lato and Boniek and Hitler’s invasion of Poland in 1939 and its bitter aftermath. But as I read more, I learnt about a part of Polish history that I had been part of and never realized it. For that I had to go back to the city of my birth, Ahvaz, located in southwest Iran…

When I was a kid growing up in Ahvaz, we used to frequently visit my dad’s cousin, Sultan Khanum, whose son, Mehrdad was one of my best friends. I enjoyed visiting them, mainly because I could play with Mehrdad and eat Sultan Khanum’s tah-dig (it’s a crunchy/burnt part of rice, found at the bottom of the pot, loved by most Iranians), which was unhealthy, oily and absolutely delicious!!! The neighborhood they lived in was called Camp Polo. Polo in farsi means Rice, so I always thought that the area was called Polo because Sultan Khanum lived there and made her delicious rice. No one seemed to know why the area was called Camp Polo.

The mystery of why the area was called Camp Polo was solved when I decided to learn about Polish history. Camp Polo was the short form for Camp Polonia!! It had nothing to do with Sultan Khanum’s rice making skills, or anything related to tahdig! Camp Polo, was an area where hundreds of Polish women and children were brought in and given refuge during World War II. They were part of the Polish population that had escaped Hitler’s invasion and then enslaved by Stalin. After Hitler decided to attack the Soviet Union, these Polish prisoners were freed and made their way to Iran. They had escaped Hitler, lost their belongings and their nation, put in prison and enslaved by Stalin. Their condition was desperate, and miserable. Millions died, before and after being freed. They felt abandoned, lost and hopeless, and finally in the middle of this darkness, they found respite and hope in the most unlikely of places, Iran. The people of Iran, themselves, void of resources and caught in the upheaval of local and global conflict, embraced the Polish refugees, men, women and children and gave them something that they had not seen for years, Humanity!

In a time when camps were being set up all over Europe to exterminate humanity, in this ancient land of Iran, camps were set up to revive it. Camp Polonia in Ahvaz was one of them. Within months, those who survived the arduous journey, were once again allowed to be humans, their bodies and souls reborn.

To this day Camp Polo triggers within me wonderful memories of my hometown, great rice, tahdig and my childhood friend. But now, it also reminds me that, in one of the darkest time in human history, this simple neighborhood in Ahvaz became a place of hope for a people wronged by history.

CrowdFunding, Ethnic Profiling and the Axis of Evil Comedy Tour!

It was 2007 and it was a great night at the Warner Theater in Washington, DC. I had finally gotten a chance to see the funny comedians from the "Axis of Evil" group, a bunch of mainly American comedians of Middle East descent led by the Iranian-American, Maz Jobrani. They were funny, the crowd was engaged and overall it was a night to remember. I even ran into Queen Noor of Jordan! Of all the jokes I remember, is that, if you are a Middle Eastern descent, you always want to have a "white" friend with you specially if you are going through the security at the airport! Security will treat you better!! Of course we all laughed! it was funny and it was true...comedians are society's social commentators...racism and ethnic profiling have been an integral part of American history and culture, and in 2016 its making a big come back!

Whether you are going through security at the airport, or transferring money from one bank to another, or buying a phone at the Apple Store, or writing down math equation on a piece of paper, everyone is watching you as if you are a terrorist. Not everyone who is brown, black, and has an accent and speaks a language other than English is a terrorist, planning a terrorist act or financing terror!

Did you know race and ethnic-profiling has permeated fund-raising too! Really? yeah really! But please don't be surprised!

Recently I decided to raise funds for a development project for Shindand District, in Afghanistan. My first approach was using crowdfunding, where I could ask people around the world to help me raise the money to get our work started in Afghanistan. The project (if funded) would focus on education, health, agriculture and other relevant programs. Based on a brief review of crowdfunding website, I chose gofundme, the registration was easy and I registered and started to reach out to people and ask for funding. I knew it would be an uphill battle. But just few days into the campaign I got this message;

Hi Behzad,

Dec 16 04:41 PM
I apologize, but we’re not able to process payments for your account. Our banks and processors hold us to a strict guideline on what we can and cannot process through our site. Unfortunately, we will not be able to provide you or your donation campaign with our services. I do apologize again, and wish you and your efforts the best going forward.

Thank you for your understanding.

So I replied,

Dec 17 12:43 AM           

I received a reply. There is no explanation why you don't want to process my payments for my campaign. You have strict guidelines against who?

 Please explain.

Thank you.
B

I got the exact statement I had received previously!!

 Hi Behzad,

Dec 17 08:56 AM

I apologize, but we’re not able to process payments for your account. Our banks and processors hold us to a strict guideline on what we can and cannot process through our site. Unfortunately, we will not be able to provide you or your donation campaign with our services. I do apologize again, and wish you and your efforts the best going forward.

Thank you for your understanding.

--------------------------------

They could not give me an explanation on why they could not process my payment! I met all the requirements they asked for which is 1) Having an American address 2) Having a social security number and 3) Having an American bank account. So what is the problem? Why can't I be able to raise funds on gofundme? Is it because at the time I lived in Ghana? that I have a name that is not Bob, Brad or Billy? is it because I am raising money for Afghanistan? What if someone by the name of Richard Branson or Ben Afflack, Joe Smith, or Lisa Hightower was raising the money, would they block him/her? [By the way i tried to raise fund again this time from the US but same thing happened!)

It is disappointing but not surprising that people are profiled even when they are trying to educate, build and develop communities in a much needed area. I removed my campaign appeal on gofundme.

I look back at that night at the Warner Theater and sadly one of the new jokes can be about crowdfunding, if you are going to use crowdfunding sites and you are of certain ethnicity you might want to consider looking for other funding options. 

Appeal for Our First Global Effort: Shindand Development Program!

Over the past few months I have shared with you my career and life experiences, from organizing a pre-youth football tournament in Ghana, to the struggle for girls' education in Afghanistan, from the bitter conflict in the Middle East to the triumphant efforts of a simple farmer in Burkina Faso.

My blog has and will continue to be about stories and topics that effect the average citizen around the world and his/her struggle to survive and contribute to the betterment of her/his community.

My interest, passion, and commitment is to lead a program that ensures humanitarian assistance and aid is delivered honestly and exclusively to people and communities that are in need. Aid whose planning is done in consultation with the beneficiary not the goals, and interests of the donor. Aid that is delivered by a donor that puts people central to its activities and not short term political or national interest goals.

It is against this background that, using the Crowd Funding option, I would like to raise funds to implement a development program in Shindand District, located in western part of Afghanistan. I chose this area firstly because it truly needs resources to improve the lives of the men, women and the youth. Secondly it is the strong bond that I cultivated with the people of Shindand when I worked there, and it is their current appeal directly to me to help their district.  Though it will be a challenging enterprise, I believe that together we and the people of Shidnand and Afghanistan can make things better and put this part of our globe on the road to recovery and growth.

I am not a famous person, a celebrity or a person of influence. I am not a non-governmental or a big governmental donor agency and I know raising this money will be an uphill battle. But I believe that your spirit of generosity and ultimately the human desire to help his/her fellow human being will triumph and we will get our first program underway! You will have an honest partner in me, my associates, and most importantly the people of Shindand.

If you want to know more about my background, please read About Me on this blog. Please contact me if you have any questions.

I thank each and everyone of you in advance.

Lets make it happen!

Inspired by Lucky Dube in St.Kitts and Nevis

“Freedom fighter standing on a mountain, in a foreign country, trying to send a message to his people…” Lucky Dube

The music blared from the mini-van’s tape player, as it got to Sandy Point... “Stay!” I said, asking the driver to stop. The vehicle stopped, I stepped out, and gave my fare to the driver asking him who the singer was? “Lucky Dube!” he replied with his thick Kittitian accent. That was my first introduction to the great reggae singer from South Africa. The year was 1991 and I was on the Island of St.Kitts, in the Eastern Caribbean. Living in St.Kitts connected me to the rich culture of the Caribbean and the West Indies, a culture that has taken in Africans, Ameri-Indians, Indians, Chinese, Lebanese, European and everything in between. In the one year that I lived and worked there, I played football for a second division club, taught pre-youth and youth classes, ate mangoes, skinips, drank coconut juice, Ting and ginger beer and enjoyed salt-fish, goat water and Johnny Cakes. All along, in this journey of discovery, were the songs of Lucky Dube that spoke about the human struggle for justice, search for peace and the individual’s spirit of triumph and failure.

Later on when I went to George Washington University, in Washington, DC, Lucky Dube’s music kept me company during the difficult days of writing the long term papers and the days when negativity overtook me. From Washington, I went to Ghana. At the time if you liked Lucky Dube, Ghana was your country, his music was played everywhere, If you were sitting in a tro-tro (a mini-van), on a bus going to Accra,  Kumasi, Takradi, Tamale, Kintampo, Bolgatanga, in a bar, restaurant or a chop bar, walking down the street you heard Lucky Dube. He kept me and millions in Ghana and around the world inspired.  

Years after I had returned from Ghana, driving on 495 in northern Virginia going to work, listening to the radio, the news came that Lucky Dube had been murdered in his home country of South Africa! Like millions around the world I was shocked and saddened by his death! How can someone kill a human being like Lucky Dube?!!

Seven years after his death, sitting here in Accra, I remember that bus ride to Sandy Point as the song blared from the tape player;

“All he dreams about is the freedom of the nation,

When every man will be equal in the eyes of the law;

As he closes his eyes

For the last time he said again!”  

Ethiopian Airways: Building an Empire in the Skies!

Eighteen-Hundred years ago the disciples of the Persian prophet Mani, sat by his feet as he made his historical statement about the four great kingdoms of the time, The Persian, The Roman, The Chinese and The Axumites…

I walked towards the ticket counter at Dulles Airport, and was greeted by the ticket agent at the counter. Having experienced rude ticket agents for the past three years thanks to United Airways and “Fly America Act”, it was a pleasant surprise to finally encounter a normal, friendly airline employee who was not stressed out about providing service. The ticket agents were the employees of Ethiopian Airlines, and within a few minutes I got my assigned seat and my luggage taken care of.

 

 

Steeped in facts and mythology, Ethiopia and Ethiopians are part of an ancient civilization that stretches thousands of years. They have survived as a people and civilization, whether they were the great ancient Axumite Kingdom or the nation that gave us coffee, or the country that defeated Italy in 1896, escaped colonization with Emperor Haile Selassie, survived the Derg and recently experiencing the bane of tribalism nevertheless they survive and strive.

I walked into the plane and was greeted by the flight attendant who showed me to my seat. I took my seat and eventually our flight took off for Addis Ababa. During the flight I looked around the plane, in front of me was an old lady who looked stressed and kept on asking the flight attendant questions and asking for help, there was the couple with crying babies and finally the man who kept on getting up and opening his overhead compartment to take something from his bag!! Each and every one received the attention. During the flight I did not see flight attendant disrespect anyone and in fact they kept a smiling and respectful demeanor for the duration of the flight, which is long and tiring!

Ethiopian airlines, despite its limited resources as compared to its counterparts around the world, has had a tremendous effect on airline travel specially in Africa, connecting countries, people and delivering cargo, in an often challenging environment. If its ticket agents, flight attendants and pilots were indicative of the company culture then Ethiopian Airlines will have a bright future ahead. I would like to suggest to United Airline to look to Ethiopian Airways for training its ticket agents and flight attendants!!! 

As I ate my lunch listening to the great Ethipian singer, Mahmoud Ahmed sing the classic  song, “Tizita”, I imagined  the Persian prophet, Mani and  wondered whether the descendants of the Kingdom of Axum could one day become a great power again but this time up in the skies.

Listening to Dr. King's Advice!

I helped Dr. Dorothy Height to her seat and stood around looking for a place to sit and see what was next. It was a special night and through some strange circumstance I was part of it. It was a small dinner get together at the office of Mrs. Nana Konadu Agyman Rawlings, the First Lady of the Republic of Ghana, the guests were Mrs. Coretta Scott King, the wife of the late slain American civil rights leader Dr. Martin Luther King Jr, Dr. Dorothy Height, a prominent leader of America's civil rights movement, Alexis Herman, Secretary of Labor in the Clinton Administration, amongst others. They were all in Ghana, to attend the 1999 African- African-American summit being held in Accra, Ghana. I was at this dinner because the US Ambassador to Ghana at the time, Katherine Dee Robinson, had asked some of us Peace Corps volunteers to help out during this summit. I was one of the chosen few! Ambassador Robinson, was from the American southern State of Tennessee. She possessed the southern hospitality, wonderful southern accent, and the diplomatic touch of connecting with people.

My main responsibility for that day was pushing Dr. Height’s wheelchair!  I took my place and after a few minutes dinner was served, which included some Ghanaian and non-Ghanaian dishes. I remember slices of Kenkey on a plate. Kenkey, a Ghanaian dish, is usually served in a ball form and eaten with your hand, but I guess because of the American guests, it was sliced and was eaten with a fork! I was the only one who ate the Kenkey.

I remember it being a quiet night, and Mrs. Rawlings doing most of the talking as she was trying to engage her guests and be a good host.

The other thing that stayed on my mind was the irony of history, that Mrs. King would be coming to Ghana and interacting with an American Ambassador that is from Tennessee, a state where, her husband, Dr. King, gave his last speech and was killed on the 4^th April, 1968.

I often listen to that speech, usually referred to as, “I have been to the Mountain Top” speech, which was given a day before his assassination. In the speech, Dr. King talks about history, man’s struggle for freedom, a bit about his life and his own eventual end. The reason he was in Tennessee was to support the strike of sanitation workers in the city of Memphis.

We live in a world where everyday we face crisis, whether it is diseases such as ebola or security issues related to terrorism, wars or the migration/refugee crisis. There is a global debate about how much the international community must do. Some say only those who are effected by these crisis must deal with it and there are those who believe that these crisis effect us all and we must work together to address them and final solutions to them. 

I decided to go back and revisit the speech of Dr. King given more than 45 years ago. In one part he talks about the time he and Mrs. King, drove from Jerusalem to Jericho and he was reminded of the story of the Good Samaritan, and ties it to helping the sanitation workers;

“…That's a dangerous road [the road from Jerusalem to Jericho]. In the days of Jesus it came to be known as the "Bloody Pass." And you know, it's possible that the priest and the Levite looked over that man on the ground and wondered if the robbers were still around. Or it's possible that they felt that the man on the ground was merely faking. And he was acting like he had been robbed and hurt, in order to seize them over there, lure them there for quick and easy seizure. And so the first question that the Levite asked was, "If I stop to help this man, what will happen to me?" But then the Good Samaritan came by. And he reversed the question: "If I do not stop to help this man, what will happen to him?" That's the question before you tonight…The question is not, "If I stop to help this man in need, what will happen to me?" "If I do not stop to help the sanitation workers, what will happen to them?" That's the question”.

And taking the advice from Dr. King, the international community needs to reverse the question from, “If I stop to help the communities in crisis,what will happen to me?" to "If I do not stop to help the victim of war, the ebola patient or the refugees, what will happen to them?"

He further admonished his audience, “Let us rise up tonight with a greater readiness. Let us stand with a greater determination. And let us move on in these powerful days, these days of challenge…”

Fifteen years after that dinner with all the shakers and movers of their time, here I am sitting  back in Accra, eating a  ball of Kenkey, fried fish with pepper and wondering whether the international community will be the Levite or the Good Samaritan!

Calling for Global Moratorium on Acts of Corruption!

It looked like a perfectly constructed water storage tower, it was funded by the international community and executed by the village Community Development Councils (CDCs) who were entrusted by their people to carry out their development priorities. Jambaran is a village located near the Shindand Airbase, its population is made up of the traditional landowners and sheep and goat herders. Jambaran was also known for being a place where rockets were launched by insurgence towards the airbase. The day I went to visit the village, I met with the village elders and as we sipped on the traditional Afghan green tea, they told me about a certain person who as the head of their CDC, had taken the funds from the National Solidarity Program (NSP) (as the name of the program was called) and split the money with his friends. They added that the CDC had put up a water tower which looked great from far but was nothing but a façade. The purpose of the water tower was to carry water directly to people’s houses. The only problem with Jambaran’s water tower was it did not have a generator to pump the water to the tower or the pipes to send it to the people’s home!!  

Of all the programs in Afghanistan, NSP was probably one of the best, because of its truly grass-roots focus. Based on the population and size of communities, each community would elect its CDC and come up with a project to do for their community. Again based on the size of the population, you either got 30 thousand or 60 thousand dollars. Unfortunately, that selection process became the starting point of corruption, because suddenly villages with population of 100 became 1000 and villages that had 10 houses now had 100 houses in them and they were divided into 2 villages!! You could change the size of the population and the size of your village by having the district government authorities, sign documents to show the implementing partners (those entrusted by the international community to carry out this project!) that your village had 1000 families and that you had 100 homes in them! Things would get interesting from there because after you were approved, the phone calls would start coming in…it was not to congratulate your village for the resources that you had received but rather for you as the member of the CDC to share a percentage of the fund with the person on the other side of the line! It started with local Afghan government official, then after agreeing to give him something (after all he had signed your paper work to increase the fund you received!), then the phone would ring again and it was the local Afghan insurgent who would threaten you in giving him something or else!! after him, it was the criminals and then your own members of the CDC discussing ways to get a piece of the action!!! After that the workers of the implementing partners would come in and question the wisdom of you not utilizing the opportunity to get rich quickly! “come on, really, let’s find the village that has the water tower take a few pictures and show the folks in Kabul, Herat or wherever they are and tell them the project is done, take the money and….hey don’t worry I’ll take care of that!”

Corruption in Afghanistan and throughout the world brings the worst in people, but more importantly wastes resources that can be used to build good roads, bring power, health, education and many other goods for the betterment of society. It allows for rivers to get polluted, building to collapse, and become a recruiting tool to for extremists to pull people towards violence.

I just wish that for one year all governments would call a “Moratorium on Acts of Corruption”. Perhaps led by the Afghan government! The statement to be signed by all the Leaders of the World would say something to this effective, “Because of the suffering caused by corruption, on our population and population around the world, and because corruption destroys communities and the chance for both the present and the future generations to live in peace and dignity, we call upon all our government ministries, officials, leaders and civil servants to refuse to participate directly or indirectly in any activity that includes actions that enhances corruption and waste resources allocated for the betterment of our people, society and the world. This “Moratorium on Acts of Corruption” will last for one year after which officials can go back to the status quo, should they wish to do so!

I don’t know how the leaders of the world think about my idea but I can tell you I would get lots of support from the people of Jambaran!