As climbers and adventurers, we could do a whole lot more for the places and the peoples that we love.
This past Sunday’s New York Times carried an excellent Op-Ed piece by Thomas Friedman on the devolving quagmire that is Afghanistan. In the same section, Nicholas Kristof wrote a piece called The Afghanistan Abyss. Both authors shared the view that we have a fundamental misunderstanding of the tribal dynamics in Afghanistan and how those dynamics play out in the presence of an occupying force. “More troops, more blood, more chaos,” believes Kristof. “Frankly, if a bunch of foreign Muslim troops in turbans showed up in my home-town in rural Oregon, searching our homes without bringing any obvious benefit [such as education, agricultural development and infrastructure], then we might all take to the hills with our deer rifles as well,” he said.
In the book review section of the very same issue of the Times, Greg Mortenson’s incredibly inspiring memoir, Three Cups of Tea, is listed as a best seller for the 134th week. As many of us know, Mortenson was a climber who, although he failed miserably in a climbing attempt on K2, fell in love with that far off place where the mountains grow so big. But instead of leaving with his memories and his photographs, he decided to give back to the place. He founded a non-profit foundation and built dozens of schools for girls in Pakistan and Afghanistan. Through education and awareness, he seeks to end tribal repression and the need for more troops, blood and chaos.
Mortenson’s book is beautifully written. It’s a great “story.” And it is easy to read it just as a “story.” But the suffering of which both Friedman and Kristof write is real. Can we connect with both the story and the reality? Is there something we can actually “do?”
Afghanistan was this past week’s headline. But we don’t need to look far beyond our own footprints to find other places that could use our help as well.
Ann and I had the great privilege of listening to Geoffrey Tabin speak at an American Alpine Club dinner a number of years ago. Tabin, an ophthalmologist, climbed Everest. Like Mortenson, he fell in love with the beauty of the place. As he travelled through the region, he saw countless cases of preventable corneal blindness. Returning to Nepal year after year, he single-handedly treated thousands of these cases restoring sight to those who could no longer see the majesty of the mountains that surrounded them let alone the faces of those they love.
Sir Edmund Hillary too. For years after his historic first, he returned to the Sherpa people founding schools and hospitals, lifting countless numbers out of poverty and ignorance and disease.
None of us need be a Mortenson or Tabin or Hillary. But perhaps we could connect a little better. I so admire my friends Andy and Bob who participate in the Israel bike ride for the benefit of the Arava Institute. Arava is “the premier environmental education and research program in the Middle East, preparing future Arab and Jewish leaders to cooperatively solve the region’s environmental challenges.” The goal is to build networks and develop understanding that will enable future cooperative work and activism in the Middle East and beyond. Andy and Bob love the place where their roots run deep. They give back.
In this time of economic crisis, it is so easy to circle the wagons around our own little compounds. But we cannot forget to look outward. Whether through tangible actions or through the support of those who take those actions, we can connect with those in need.
Charles Houston was another climber who “failed” on K2. In his retreat from the peak, his team fell on a steep icy slope. Tied to his fellow climbers, Houston and his partner Pete Schoening miraculously arrested the fall and saved their comrades. Houston, also a physician, went on to give back to many over his 91 year life. But he is perhaps best known in climbing circles for his role in that dramatic improbable rescue. His biography is called The Brotherhood of the Rope.
We are all tied together. Climbers and adventurers and explorers and those who don’t wander far from their tribal homes.
I want to do better at remembering the connection.
The Brotherhood of The Rope. We depend on it.
It’s good to have friends to share our adventures, or at least a solid ANCHOR (only if equalized properly), but preferably BOTH. Love the Blog.
DTT