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Bringing freedom, not bombs

Former member of the 101st Airborne returns to Afghanistan with a mission of hope

By Ross Paterson ('90)

Ross Paterson ('90)

Ross Paterson ('90)

Border crossing, Spin Boldak, Afghanistan, Feb. 15, 2002

Our team was edgy as our Toyota microbus pulled up to the immigration control office at the dusty border town of Spin Boldak. We were well aware that we were about to enter one of the world's most perilous and mysterious countries. To add to our apprehension, several men came out of the office compound holding Kalashnikov assault rifles. Some of the men wore military uniforms while others were dressed in the traditional Shalwar kamis consisting of loose baggy pants held up by a drawstring and a long shirt covering the body past the knees. A few wore dark, meticulously wrapped turbans and had long beards that we associated with the recently overthrown Taliban regime.

My teammates and I exchanged silent glances. What had we gotten ourselves into?

Instead of simply logging our passport numbers into a book as had been done on the Pakistani side of the border moments before, we were ordered out of the van and led into the compound. The guards took us to the headquarters building and motioned for us to take a seat. The room was small; the only light came through dark and dusty curtains that covered every window. Our team was noticeably nervous, but the Afghan doctor Rahimullah, who served as our interpreter, told us everything was fine. Moments later the director of the station entered, smiling and exchanging greetings. Rahimullah explained what we needed.

Our introduction to Afghanistan

The director was elated to see Americans not associated with the media; none had come through his crossing in a long time. He ordered his assistants to bring in some tea. Thus, what would have been a clerical, impersonal transaction in America became an important first glimpse into the people, the culture and the country we felt called to help.

An hour later we were traveling north through the Rigestan Desert, and a mild sandstorm intermittently reduced our visibility to as little as 50 feet. We had changed vans because our Pakistani driver and guards could not go past the border. An Afghan driver and one of the soldiers from the immigration office became our new escorts. The road -- I use that term very loosely -- was lined occasionally with nomadic Kuchis and their children, looking like ghosts in the sandy fog. With outstretched hands, they begged for handouts from the vehicles passing only a few feet away.

Ross Paterson (center) shares refreshment with Afghan hosts

Ross Paterson (center) shares refreshment with Afghan hosts

In most places, four to six alternate traffic lanes had been carved into the desert by cars and light trucks capable of maneuvering off the main, heavily rutted gravel road. Dry riverbeds had become bouncy bypasses so vehicles could avoid backups on one-lane, war-ravaged bridges. I watched in disbelief as large cargo trucks straddled their wheels across bomb holes in the bridges where steel-reinforcing cables hung down like spaghetti.

After a couple of hours of bouncing, we stopped in the middle of the desert for a break. Rahimullah, a former freedom fighter or Mujahideen, asked the guard for his Kalashnikov rifle. There, in the desert, he commenced to give us all shooting lessons with the old, poorly maintained rifle. After shooting a few rounds, we could now be considered men in this gun-focused warrior culture -- we had fired the legendary Soviet-made rifle that has been too large an influence in Afghanistan's recent history.

This was my introduction to the wonderfully complex, intriguing and desperately needy nation of Afghanistan.

"In recent years whenever I have been asked which of the countries I have seen that I would most prefer to visit again, I have invariably said Afghanistan. I remember it as an exciting, violent and provocative place." -- Pulitzer Prize-winning author James A. Michener

I spent four days in the southeastern city of Kandahar on this first trip. The fresh devastation from the American-led intervention three months earlier, was nearly indistinguishable from the previous decades of destruction. Whole city blocks were flattened, and unrepaired bullet holes scarred many walls. The tallest building in the city, a Russian-built hotel, had been condemned. The many battles fought in and around the structure had left large holes on every side of the building, and mangled antennae on the roof leaned at odd angles.

Life in Kandahar

The people in the city were amazingly unfazed by the destruction, almost accustomed to it. Kandahar has the same hustle and bustle of many Third World cities. The roads are congested all day. German buses (donated for public transportation), cars, trucks and vans compete for space with small motorcycles, bicycles and even donkey carts. Drivers manage to speak a whole new language through their incessant horn-blowing, gestures and yells.

Aspects of the strong tribal-based culture with its heavy emphasis on family were evident in all that we saw. Because construction of family dwellings begins with a wall and a gate, glimpses into everyday home life are rare. The women, though free from the Taliban's oppression, continue to wear blue burkhas that completely cover their bodies, except for a small mesh opening for their eyes. But there are signs of progress. We witnessed an all-girls school, forbidden under the Taliban, dismiss classes for the day. Dozens of girls emerged from class in their traditional black dresses with white scarves tied loosely over their hair.

We checked in to the Nur Jan hotel, just west of Martyr's Square late the first night. It was much better than we expected -- beds with sheets and blankets, a bathroom and shower down the hall, and at least intermittent electricity.

Our first meal that night was very traditional Afghan fare -- beef kabobs roasted on an open flame, served with a white yogurt sauce for dipping. Like almost all Afghan meals it was accompanied by palau, a rice dish with raisins and carrots cooked in a sweet-tasting oil, and nan, a delicious flatbread baked against the inside wall of a fire-fed oven. Most Afghans would eat from a communal plate with their hands, but our innkeeper was kind enough to provide some forks for his American guests.

"America has brought us freedom, not bombs." - Yusuf Pashtun, governor of Kandahar province

He also gave us our first glimpse into the minds of the majority of the Afghans we would meet on this trip. He was excited about the partnership that was forming between Afghanistan and America, and very positive about the prospect of prosperity and peace replacing poverty and war.

On this first trip into Kandahar in February 2002, two paradigm shifts radically changed me from the inside out. First, the people and their story were not at all as I had expected from the portrayals in American media. If you want to find corrupt leaders and trouble, inevitably they will be found. We can find them in any country, including ours, for that matter.

The vast majority of the people whom I have encountered on subsequent trips welcome the American intervention, are thankful for the security provided by our armed forces, and are desperate for a new future of peace and prosperity. Engineer Yusuf Pashtun, the minister of reconstruction for the Kandahar Region welcomed us the second day in Afghanistan and told us in perfect English, "America has brought us freedom, not bombs."

He then added that freedom was not worth much without food, water and medical resources to keep people alive. The survival and success of the new government was going to be tied closely to the ability to deliver results in these key areas. In the time since my first trip, Engineer Pashtun has served as the governor of Kandahar province.

The second realization that tugged at my soul was the extreme desperation in this impoverished and war-scarred land. Consider the life experience of a 27-year-old male in Afghanistan today:

"In most aspects, Afghanistan is worse off than almost any country in the world. The country's social and economic indicators are comparable or lower than the indicators for sub-Saharan Africa." -- Sakiko Fukuda-Parr, United Nations Development Program

During our four days in Afghanistan, I walked the floors of the Mir Weis hospital -- the worst medical facility I had ever seen in my life. Later, I was stunned to learn that it was the only hospital facility available to support a regional population of over 1.5 million.

Ross Paterson with a group of Afghan friends

Ross Paterson (center front) with a group of Afghan friends

We met with the next generation of leaders at Kandahar University and saw more of the same optimistic anticipation that we had seen in our innkeeper the first night. We visited Afghan refugee camps in Chaman, Pakistan, and heard stories that reflected the deep tribal divides that had kept the country in a perpetual state of war for more than a decade after the Russians withdrew. After seeing all this, I remembered the challenge from Pashtun. We had asked him, "What can we do to help?" His response, arms in the air, was, "Pick a place; pick any place; just do something to help."

The work our military is doing -- getting rid of those who thrive on war, fear and oppression -- is only the tip of the iceberg. The war on terrorism will ultimately be won when we create a new generation of hope: children who can read, write, and learn to think for themselves; a new generation of doctors that turn the tide on child and maternal mortality rates; people who know peace, prosperity, and hope.

"The war on terrorism will ultimately be won when we create a new generation of hope"

Some may argue that is way too big a job; but, I knew I had the power to do something. It was as if God had uniquely gifted and experienced me to handle this work in a tough land. How could I walk away and do nothing?

"As human beings, we cannot be neutral, or have no right to be, when other human beings are suffering. Each of us...must do what he or she can to help those in need, even though it would be much safer and more comfortable to do nothing." -- Kofi Annan, U.N. Secretary General

My life at JMU (1986-1990) was very focused. I attended Madison on a four-year ROTC scholarship and eventually went on to command the cadet battalion and the school's elite Ranger group. All I wanted to be was an infantry officer, and I was blessed to spend six years in infantry battalions around the world. I culminated my military career as a company commander in the 101st Airborne Division.

After the military, I set off for new challenges in the business world. I was hired by General Electric and spent the next seven years working in GE's widely varied manufacturing businesses all over the country. I built locomotives in Erie, Pa.; refrigerators in Decatur, Ala., at the amazing rate of 5,000-plus per day; and spent my last two years as the business leader for a joint venture called GE Sports Lighting Systems LP. During my time in the sports lighting business, we designed and built everything from four-pole, 12-light systems for Little League ball fields, to major stadium projects, including the San Diego Padres' new field and the reconstruction of Soldier Field in Chicago.

At the end of my time, what do I want my legacy to be?

Down the corporate ladder

However, my business career never had the same feel as my military service. I never had the congruency between my work, life and passions. I was never able to get into the elusive 'zone.' Despite my rowdy, airborne-Ranger life in Harrisonburg, I dedicated my life to being a follower of Christ as a second lieutenant facing the first Persian Gulf War. As I have grown and matured in my faith, my life and priorities have been transformed. The drive for success that I possessed as an infantry officer and business leader in GE, has been replaced with a drive for significance. It all comes down to the basic Stephen Covey principle of "begin with the end in mind." At the end of my time, what do I want my legacy to be?

The school and medical clinic that Ross Paterson and his team helped build sits at the bottom of the mountain behind Malimjaqoob, a Mujahideen fighter against the Soviet Union.

The school and medical clinic that Ross Paterson and his team helped build sits at the bottom of the mountain behind Malimjaqoob, a Mujahideen fighter against the Soviet Union. "Malimjaqoob was telling us war stories, and we were taking pictures and video of the area where we hope to build more schools and clinics," says Paterson.

In the year that followed my first trip to Afghanistan, a team from NorthWood Church in Keller, Texas, including Senior Pastor Dr. Bob Roberts Jr., put together Glocal Ventures Inc., a nonprofit organization. Glocal, a combination of the words global and local, works to form partnerships to transform communities and touch the world. I became more and more involved in their Afghanistan project as a volunteer. Eventually I started working my way down the corporate ladder so that I could devote more time to Glocal efforts. Within two years, I was working full time in the nonprofit world, developing strategy, funding and networks to continue the work in Afghanistan.

Afghanistan 2006

In Afghanistan, our teams and programs have made an impact on millions of lives. Our purpose is to create a network of faith-based partners to show God's love to the people of Afghanistan. Our vision is to reconstruct hope in Afghanistan by rebuilding sustainable medical, educational and agricultural infrastructures that will be the foundation for a future of peace and prosperity. Glocal Ventures and partner organizations have helped rebuild irrigation canal gates and locks to boost the region's agricultural economy and assisted in building schools and medical facilities in the poorest villages.

We have recruited and funded development workers from other Asian countries who have boldly moved to Afghanistan with their families. They integrate with the community and influence the culture more effectively than Westerners. Within these families are skilled doctors, dentists, agriculturists, teachers and computer specialists who are developing long-term programs to build a future of hope.

Our results in Afghanistan have created new opportunities for us to get involved in other countries as well. Glocal Ventures and our partners are now engaged in emerging works in Indonesia, Nigeria, Algeria, Vietnam and Egypt.

"You will find as you look back on your life that the moments that stand out, the moments when you have really lived, are the moments when you have done things in a spirit of love." -- Henry Drummond,The Greatest Thing in the World

Now, after stepping out of my American Dream comfort zone, I believe that everyone should have a life project. The bigger, the better. Something that is nearly impossible to change but worth giving a life for; a mission that awakens the senses and moves you into your zone of top performance; a vocation requiring every ounce of your skills, gifts, and passions; a calling that stretches you past your current capabilities and impacts a world larger than the one you now know.

A decision to move in this direction demands adjustments in one's current definition of success but pays dividends that are unimaginable. If you are having trouble thinking of somewhere to invest, you are welcome to join us on our next trip.

About the author

Ross Paterson
Glocal Ventures Inc.
info@glocalventures.org
(817)874-6161