Kabul Doctors - TLC 12
06.11.2015 | tm leonard Ankara streets were dead one Sunday.
Everyone disappeared to vote for someone well connected and wealthy.
He passed shuttered watch shops and clothing stores.
Moneychangers yelled, “Mr. Lucky Foot come here. Invest in your future. Change money. Change your wife. Change your life. Change or die. Change into a nine-year old meditative Buddhist monk in Luang Prabang, Laos walking with a begging bowl.”
A man selling Simit, a common seedy pretzel meditated near his small carnival cart in stone cold shadows.
Five jabbering women in shimmering sea green blue fabrics decorated with mirrors and silver balls danced along plate glass windows. Dark skin sharp noses deep black eyes and long hair. Headscarves reflected light waves.
Three posed in front of a clothing store and Caucasian mannequin. The dummy wore a dark pinstriped suit. A tall woman stepped back with a point-n-shoot camera.
Finished, she turned. He gestured if she wanted him to photograph the group.
“Yes,” in impeccable English. “Please.”
He pointed at foliage. “Ask your friends to stand over there.” Two hid behind flowing skirts. She coaxed them into the frame. Click.
He handed her the camera. “Where are you from?”
“We are from Kabul.’
“Why are you here?”
“We are doctors. We have been attending seminars and return home this week.”
“Are you all from Kabul?”
“No,” gesturing to women hiding behind sisters, “they are from distant provinces.”
“I see. How is the medical situation in Afghanistan? Do you have enough medicine?”
“It changes. We are fortunate to receive medicine from international aid agencies. Our hospitals need more equipment. It’s a struggle at times especially outside the capital.”
“How are the children doing? Are they receiving medical care and enough food? Can they go to school?”
“We are doing our best to take care of the children.”
“I wish you well. You face large responsibilities. It was nice meeting you.”
“Thank you,” she smiled. “Good-bye.”
He shared this encounter with a female student at TLC.
“Were they open or closed?” she said referring to veils not their state of mind.
“They were open.”
Dr. Suit and fashionable Ankara friends.
Creative nonfiction, Education, Journalism, Novels, Travel, writing | tagged The Language Company, book, creative nonfiction, culture, travel, turkey, writing 
