Union-Tribune September 25, 2002 A-1  Holes in the wall    Returning refugees fight to survive as winter nears By MARCUS STERN  COPLEY NEWS SERVICE  BAMIYAN, Afghanistan – Said Askar pondered his lot as he squatted in the smoke-blackened cave where he and his family have lived for five months and where they now face a potentially deadly winter without food, fuel or enough blankets. Their home is one of dozens of small caves cut into the broad face of a cliff overlooking Bamiyan Valley at 13,000 feet in the Hindu Kush Mountains. The caves were created 1,700 years ago to house Buddhist monks. The caves surrounded two giant Buddhas, which were perhaps Afghanistan's greatest antiquity until the Taliban dynamited them about a year and a half ago. But, as Askar's plight dramatically demonstrates, the Taliban regime destroyed more than statues. Also destroyed were the lives of villagers like Askar who fled their homes to escape persecution and are part of a historically unprecedented refugee return. The story of Bamiyan in central Afghanistan is one small part of the largest, fastest refugee return in modern history. About 1.6 million Afghans have returned from Pakistan and Iran in the past year. An additional 400,000 who fled their homes but stayed in Afghanistan also have returned to their villages. This migration has overwhelmed international relief organizations and raised fears of humanitarian disaster when winter arrives. With frost visible in the night chill and poplars turning a bright yellow, Askar and scores of other families living in the monks' caves are bracing for possible starvation and freezing. "We have no food or firewood saved for the winter," Askar said as a shaft of light spilled into the cave from a window cut in the rock face. The light revealed the family's possessions – a small pile of dried weeds for firewood, a few worn blankets, a lantern, bucket and wash basin. Askar and the others living amid the rubble of the Buddhas were part of a great wave of refugees from across Afghanistan who fled the Taliban between 1994 and 2001. Because these people – known as Hazaras – belong to a different Islamic branch from the Taliban, their persecution was especially harsh. It included alleged massacres, looting and destruction of the Buddhas. The Taliban are Sunni Muslims, while Hazaras are the only Shias living in Afghanistan. The Hazaras also have distinctive Asian features as descendants of Genghis Khan's Mongols. After Afghan fighters with international backing vanquished the Taliban forces last year, Askar and others began returning. They arrived to find their homes torched and their cows, goats and sheep gone. These simple mountain people who had little before the Taliban drove them away found themselves with absolutely nothing when they returned. Most of the families living in the monks' caves described a daily diet of potatoes, rice, beans and tea. Samia, 12, an orphan living in the caves with her grandmother and two sisters, nibbled shyly on a small clump of dried melon seeds as she listed what she had eaten so far that day: dry bread, the seeds and tea. With hazel eyes peeking out of a loosely wrapped red chador, Samia said she would have more bread and some rice later in the day. Asked how long it had been since she last ate meat, Samia said, "Months." "There are many people who have trouble even finding dry bread," said Ali Reza, 18, a shopkeeper in Bamiyan, a one-street town at the base of the cliff. "If they don't build houses for those people living in the caves, some will die." In the past, before the Taliban forced virtually the entire town to flee, people would have stored enough firewood, wheat and other winter supplies by now to last until the spring. They would have stored enough feed for the livestock crucial to their survival. But most have returned without animals. They also have been unable to grow crops, build adequate homes or gather enough firewood in this parched land, which hasn't seen significant rain in six years. Not far from the base of the Buddhas is a small enclave of 200 families called Surkh Kol. The families there live in mud houses that were torched by the Taliban but have been restored by the families since they returned from a place called Basood. "Everything was destroyed," said Ali Muhammad, 26, a father of four who also is caring for two orphans. In a refrain heard in Bamiyan, he added plaintively, "We have nothing for the winter." Muhammad lived for two years in Basood and one year in the capital city of Kabul before returning to Bamiyan four months ago. He said the Red Cross gave him a modest supply of beans, cooking oil and rice that is gone. He also received poplar poles, a wooden door and window frame to rebuild his burned house. A woman who called herself Sakina demanded to know why there wasn't more help for the returning refugees. She said her husband was killed in a Taliban attack and that her three children were out gathering weeds for firewood. "How will I survive?" she said. "Why is there no help?" A donkey carrying barrels of water slowly made its way up the steep hill behind Sakina's house. The enclave's water must be carried from the Bamiyan River. She said Western visitors frequently tour the village asking questions about the hardships there and promising help that never seems to arrive. A woman named Kubra said her husband was too sick to work and that she was trying to care for him and her six children. Her family was living nearby in a tent, she said. She offered a mixture of despair, gratitude and hope. "We are happy the Taliban are gone and there is peace," she said as she clutched her 1-year-old son, Qasim. "But now there is no money, no food and no jobs. Maybe when everyone is back it will be better." But one aspect of the local economy – tourism – is most likely gone for good. The destruction of the Buddhas, which was broadly condemned around the world, had a direct impact on villagers like Muhammad Jawad, 42. He was one of the few residents of Bamiyan who remained throughout the Taliban's rule, in part because he made his living by leading tourists to the statues. Now without a job because of the destruction of the Buddhas, Jawad sadly recalled the Taliban regime's deeds there. "The first year they blackened them," he said. "Then they destroyed them with dynamite." With that explosion also went the reason for tourists to bring their money to Bamiyan. It is hard to know how much of Bamiyan's pre-Taliban population has returned despite the hardships there. Reza, the shopkeeper, said 800 families had returned just in the last month and that as much as three-quarters of the town was back. In his shop, the men talked of massacres and harrowing escapes from Taliban forces. They talked with concern about the coming winter and about the prospects of the town's economy being fully restored. "People here are happy there is peace and the Taliban are gone, and they say they are seeing the best face of life," Reza said. "But then they don't have food for tomorrow or for the winter." He mentioned that the few teachers in town hadn't been paid all year. Karin Ullah Afaq, who heads the local operation of the United Nations Center for Settlements, recently brought a group of U.N. officials from Kabul to the base of the Buddha statues to see the ruins. They weren't planning to visit the families in the monks' caves only a few feet from where they were standing. Afaq described them as "self-sustaining." But when told of their stories, concerns and complaints, he said the various aid groups were planning to build 1,000 houses in Bamiyan by October. It was unclear if they had begun that effort with less than a month to go. Afaq also said the aid groups would be meeting soon to go over the winter needs of the refugees. "We will draw up proposals, and we will make a plan," he said. Previous stories from this series are available online at SignOnSanDiego, the Union-Tribune's Web site, at www.uniontrib.com.  Copyright 2002 Union-Tribune Publishing Co.