When I first received the news that a helicopter mission to evacuate Abdul Rashid Khan and ferry the remaining building supplies to Bozai Gumbaz would not be going forward, I was so terribly dismayed at the way things had worked out. After all, I had tried so hard to reach the Kirghiz not once but twice, and on both occasions had failed. Now the military had done the same. And it was undoubtedly my disappointment over these events that blinded me to the rather inconvenient truth that as important as it may have been for us to try, it was even more important for us to fail.
Only a few days later did I begin to comprehend that what the Kirghiz needed was something infinitely more precious and indispensible than whatever assistance might have been rendered by me, the American military, or anyone else who was not part of their community. In place of our help, what they needed most was the sense of empowerment that comes from knowing that they had done it on their own.
And by God’s grace, they had achieved that in spades.
Of the 131 central Asia Institute schools that are now scattered throughout Pakistan and Afghanistan, not a single one of them is more remote or stands upon higher ground than the little four-room structure that the Wakhan Kirghiz, in partnership with Sarfraz Khan, erected on the grassy slope next to the shallow lake in the center of the Bam-I-Dunya at 12,480 feet. And aside from our very first project in Korphe, no school is closer to my heart than the one in Bozai Gumbaz, because none was carved so directly and so indisputably from the bedrock of human dignity and self-worth.
By succeeding at an endeavor in which a government, an army, and an NGO had failed, a band of impoverished nomads were able to construct, on the loftiest and most distant corner of their republic, something even greater than a school. They had raised a beacon of hope that called out not only to the Kirghiz themselves, but also to every village and town in Afghanistan where children yearn for education, and where fathers and mothers dream of building a school whose doors will open not only to their sons but also to their daughters. Including—and perhaps especially—those places that are surrounded by a ring of men with Kalashnikovs who help to sustain the grotesque lie that flinging battery acid into the face of a girl who longs to study arithmetic is somehow in keeping with the teachings of the Koran.
Thanks to what the Kirghiz managed to pull off, no citizen of Afghanistan can now look toward the High Pamir without pondering the legend of the ragged company of horsemen who rode over a chain of mountains in search of someone who could build them a school—and who winded up fulfilling the promise that they had been given by finishing that school with their own hands.
Today that legend is inscribed on the stones that were used to build the walls of the school, and as the water falls out of the sky and over those stones, the words of the legend are carried down from the mountains and into the fields and gardens and orchards of Afghanistan. And as the water and the words rush past, who can fail to turn to his neighbor and whisper, with humility and awe—if this is what the weakest, the least valued, the most neglected among us are capable of achieving, truly is there anything we cannot do?
Despite everything that has befallen us, do we not continue to hold the destiny of this shattered and magnificent nation, together with the future of all our children—girls and boys alike—in the palm of our hands?
And knowing all of this, is it not time to reclaim the things that have been taken from us?
The answer to those questions reveals the power that a legend can wield—and no one is haunted by this truth more profoundly or with greater anguish, perhaps, than those to whom the privileges of education and literacy have been denied.
If I could somehow have found a way to share the story of the tiny four-room schoolhouse that was nailed together upon the Roof of the World with my old mentor and friend, Haji Ali—a man who never learned to read or write, and who now lies in his grave under the apricot trees next to the barley fields of Korphe—I believe he would have nodded with approval.
He was a man who understood the virtue of small things.
Acknowledgments
Today, there are over 120 million school-aged children on this planet who remain illiterate and are deprived of education due to gender discrimination, poverty, exploitation, religious extremism, and corrupt governments.
It is my hope and prayer that over the next decade we will do everything in our power to achieve universal literacy and provide education for all these children, two-thirds of whom are girls. Nothing would make me more pleased than if Stones into Schools became a catalyst to reach this goal.
It would take another book of the same length as this one to properly acknowledge the thousands of good people who were a vital part of this phenomenal journey over the last sixteen years. I regret that I cannot acknowledge each one of you in this limited space.
Two dedicated writers put in literally thousands of hours to help me bring Stones into Schools into the world. Thank you, Mike Bryan, for your perseverance in working nearly every day for an entire year to research and lay the groundwork for this book. And thank you, Kevin Fedarko, for helping me find the most compelling way to construct this narrative, and for your marathon efforts over one hundred consecutive sixteen-hour days to bring this book to the finish line in time for a December 2009 publication. What is most impressive about both of you is your absolute lack of ego and your humility and grace as you passionately steered this story into print. Without your dogged efforts and brilliant skills, Stones into Schools never would have happened. I toast you with a cup of the rancid yak-butter salt tea that we shared in the Wakhan and Baltistan. Baf!
To the eight incredible women who make up the backbone of our U.S. Central Asia Institute home team—Jennifer Sipes (operations director), Laura Anderson, Michelle Laxson, Lynsie Gettel, Lindsay Glick, Christine Leitinger, Sadia Ashraf, and Genevieve Chabot—there are no adequate words to express my gratitude for your quiet, patient support in running a grassroots organization that has grown exponentially over the last three years. Thanks must also be given to Karin Ronnow, Joel Kaleva, Stefani Freese, CPA, Doug Chabot, Teru Kuwayama, Gretchen Breuner, Shannon Gannon, Billy Durney, Tauheed Ashraf, and the many others who keep CAI afloat when we need to reach out beyond our capacity.
Thank you to the authors who have been a big help and inspiration over the years. These include Khaled Hosseini (and his wife Roya), author of The Kite Runner and A Thousand Splendid Suns, who wrote the foreword to this book and is a fellow humanitarian helping refugees with his Khaled Hosseini Foundation (www.khaledhosseinifoundation.org); Jane Good-all, author of Reason for Hope, who is a dear friend and has and inspired millions of kids with her Roots & Shoots program (www.rootsandshoots.org); Thomas Friedman, the author and New York Times columnist who has taken a strong interest in our work; Nicholas Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn, authors of the recently published book Half the Sky, who share a belief that the empowerment of women can change the world; Fareed Zakaria, author of The Post-American World, who believes that education is the most powerful weapon for peace; Ahmed Rashid, author of Taliban and Descent into Chaos, for sharing his encyclopedic knowledge from madrassas to mujahadeen; Rory Stewart, author of The Places in Between, who helps the Afghan people with his Turquoise Mountain charity (www.turquoisemountain.org); Doug Stanton, author of Horse Soldiers; Nazif Shahrani, author of The Kirghiz and Wakhi of Afghanistan; and Kathy Gannon, author of I Is for Infidel.
Thank you to the hundreds of public and private schools and universities that I have had the privilege of visiting over the last decade, many of which have adopted Three Cups of Tea as a first-year experience, honors program, or common read. Some of the most rewarding experiences of my life have been the enlightening exchanges I’ve had with the students from these institutions and their teachers. You are my real heroes!
To the dozens of young adults and children who have gone out on their own and started incredible nonprofits, you are an inspiration. These include Garret and Kyle Weiss (www.fundafield.com), Ashley Shuyler (www.africai
d.org), Zach Bonner (www.littleredwagonfoundation.com), Anna Dodson (www.peruvianhearts.org), Cambridge (Mass.) elementary-school students (www.cambcamb.org), and Farmington (Mich.) and Danbury (Conn.) students (www.schoolinsudan.org).
Thank you also to the dedicated soldiers who serve our country, often at great risk and for extended periods of time away from their families. Over the last two years, it’s been a priviledge to visit and speak at dozens of military bases and institutions and all the military academies. Thank you to Admiral Mike Mullen, chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, who took time out to inaugurate one of our girls’ schools in Afghanistan—and to his wife, Deborah, who first put Three Cups of Tea in his hands.
A salute also to the following military commanders and their wives, for sharing a cup (and more) of tea, and for inspiring me: General David Petraeus, CENTCOM commander; Admiral Eric Olson, SOCOM commander; General Stanley McChrystal, ISAF/ U.S. commander in Afghanistan; Naval Vice Admiral Thomas Kilcline, Naval Aviation commander; Major General Mastin Robe-son, MARSOC commander; General James Conway, U.S. Marine Corps commandant; Colonel Stephen Davis, MARSOC deputy commander; Major Jason Nicholson, Foreign Area Officer—Africa; Captain Richard Butler, chief of staff, Naval Air Forces; Major General John Macdonald and Major General Curtis Scaparrotti, both commanders in Afghanistan; and all the officers, NCOs, and enlisted men and women who serve under their leadership.
I also want to especially thank Captain John Kirby at the Pentagon for his encouragement and last but not least, Colonel Christopher Kolenda, who had the foresight to forge ahead and first reach out to the elders of Afghanistan.
In sixteen years, we’ve never used a dollar of federal government or USAID funds to build a school or buy a pen. But I do owe a deep debt of gratitude to Representative Mary Bono (R-Calif.) who taught me how to advocate for the cause of girls’ education in Pakistan and Afghanistan. Thanks also to Representative Earl Pomeroy (D-N.D.), Representative Jean Schmidt (R-Ohio), Representative Denny Rehberg (R-Mont.), Senator Max Baucus (D-Mont.), Senator Olympia Snowe (R-Maine), Senator Mark Udall (D-Colo.), Senator Richard Lugar (R-Ind.) Senator Ben Cardin (D-Md.), Senator John Kerry (D-Mass.) and his wife Theresa Heinz, and also President Bill Clinton, First Lady Laura Bush, Barbara and George Bush Sr., Secretary of State Colin Powell, and Justice Sandra Day O’Connor.
I must thank seven individuals who touched my life and who share my alma mater, the University of South Dakota: Tom and Meredith Brokaw and their incredible family, Lars and Arlow Overskei, Don and Carol Birkeland, and Al Neuharth, founder of USA Today.
As a humanitarian, I also thank the dedicated aid workers who fight illiteracy, disease, poverty, wars, environmental degradation, human-rights violations, and more, often against staggering odds.
Thank you to Westside Elementary School in River Falls, Wisconsin, for starting our children’s “Pennies for Peace” (P4P) program in 1994, and to the over 4,500 schools who now participate in P4P around the world—you are our real hope for global peace.
Thanks to all the incredible support from the book clubs, women’s groups, places of workship, civic organizations, veterans’ associations, the AAUW (Association of American University Women), bookstores, libraries, and everyone else who helped both in making Three Cups of Tea such a success and in spreading the message about the importance of girls’ education.
For their realistic, rock-solid support, I also thank: George McCown, Talat Jabbar, Julia Bergman, John and Ginny Meisenbach, Joy Durghello, Robert Irwin, Nancy Block, Anne Beyersdorfer, Ben Rice, Charley Shimansky, Bill Galloway, Dr. Louis Reichardt, Jim Wickwire, Steve Swenson, Dr. Andrew and Lisa Marcus, David and Eunice Simonson, Ms. Mary Peglar (an octogenarian and my first teacher in Africa, who is now in the UK and still writes sea-shipped letters to me), Jeni and Conrad Anker, Jennifer Wilson, Vince and Louise Larsen, Lila, Brent and Kim Bishop, Jon Krakauer, John and Anne Rigby, Tony O’Brien, Mark (and Sue Iberra) Jenkins, Keith Hamburg, Ricky Golmulka, Jeff McMillian, Andrew Lawson, Susan Roth, Nick and Linken Berryman, Salma Hasan Ali, Sameera and Zahid Baig, Sara Thomson, John Guza, Tom and Judy Vaughan, Sara and Sohaib Abbasi, Angelina Jolie, Pam Heibert, MD, the late Ray Roberts (the original acquiring editor of Three Cups of Tea), Jean Hoerni, Patsy Collins, Deidre Eitel, Jim and Margaret Beyersdorfer, Paula Lloyd, and Jose Forquet.
Thank you to my Islamic mentor Saeed Abbas Risvi sahib, who is the most humble man I’ve known and has patiently taught me about the true virtues of Islam, that it is a faith of tolerance, justice, and peace. May Allah’s blessings be with you and your family always.
In Afghanistan and Pakistan my special thanks go to Haji Youssef, Haji Fida Mohammed Nashad, Brigadier General Bashir Baz, Colonel Ilyas Mirza, Captain Wassim Ifthakhar Janjua, Faruq Wardak Sadhar Khan, Wohid Khan, Ghulam Noristani, Abdul Rashid Khan, Wali Boz Ahmadi, Jan Agha, Master Hussein, Shah Ismael Khan, Tashi Boi, Haji Ibrahim, Haji Mohammed Ali, Haji Abdul Aziz, Maulavi Rashdi, Twaha, Parveen, Aziza, Lima, Jahan, Tahera, Rubina, Najeeba Mera, Bibi Raihana, and Uzra Faizad. Two of those I wish to thank who first helped me along the way are no longer with us: Haji Ali and Brigadier General Cahudhry Zakaullah Bhangoo, an angel of mercy who was tragically killed in a plane crash in Turkey in 2007.
A particular debt of gratitude must go to Penguin Group (USA) Inc., which has been instrumental in helping me to bring our cause to the attention to millions of readers through the publication of Three Cups of Tea and now Stones into Schools. Your offices are a second home, and your tribal chieftains, including Marjorie Scardino, chief executive of Pearson, John Makinson, the chairman and chief executive of the Penguin Group, David Shanks, CEO of Penguin Group (USA) Inc., Susan Petersen Kennedy, president of Penguin Group (USA) Inc., Clare Ferraro, president of Viking, and Kathryn Court, president of Penguin Trade Paperbacks, are most impressive leaders.
It goes without saying that this book would not have been possible without the guidance of my editor, mentor, and fellow mountain climber, Paul Slovak, the publisher of Viking. It was in his office that my very first visit to the company took place in 2003, when I came in to pitch the idea of a book I was calling Three Cups of Tea. Since that time, Paul has been with me every step of the way, and even when I would go off the radar screen for days at a time, he never lost faith in me. His support, wisdom, editorial expertise, and steadfastness have been invaluable.
Several months ago, when Penguin was helping me to organize a party in New York to celebrate the success of the adult and young reader’s editions of Three Cups of Tea and the children’s picture book Listen to the Wind, I was astonished to learn that Penguin had calculated that over 440 people at the company had played some role in the publication of my books! I thank all of you for your dedication and devotion, and in particular the following people, who were most closely involved in the production and publication of this new book: Nancy Sheppard, Carolyn Coleburn, Louise Braverman, Noirin Lucas, Elke Sigal, Courtney Allison, David Martin, Holly Watson, Kate Lloyd, Dennis Swaim, Karen Mayer, Paul Buckley, Jasmine Lee, Jennifer Wang, Hal Fessenden, Sabila Khan, and, working outside of the company, copy editor Hilary Roberts, fact-checker Jane Cavolina and Brynn Breuner, who coordinated the maps, photos, and back matter. The other key members of the Penguin team that I must thank include Eileen Kreit, Alan Walker, Jackie Fischetti, Tiffany Tomlin, Jenna Meulemans, Caitlin Pratt, Shanta Newlin, Alisah Niehaus, and Marilyn Hills at the front desk, who sneaks me into the office without authorization. A special shout-out must also go to Penguin’s incredible hardcover and paperback sales forces, whose passionate advocacy for my books with the booksellers has made all the difference in the world. And last but not least, thank you to Leoni Atossa, the remarkable lead actress in the Kite Runner film, who is the narrator of the audio versions of Stones into Schools and the Three Cups of Tea young reader’s edition. Thank you all!
When I was a child in Tanzania, my parents, Dempsey and Jerene Mortenson, read bedtime stories to my sisters Sonja, Kari, and Christa, and me every evening by l
antern and later by electric light. Those stories filled us with curiosity about the world and other cultures. They inspired the humanitarian adventure that has shaped my life. My mother’s lifelong commitment to education continues to inspire me. And although cancer took the life of my young father in 1980, his infinite spirit lives on in all that I do. Dad, you are my baba, kaka na rafiki (father, brother, and friend). Thanks also to my extraordinary sisters Sonja and Kari, their husbands Dean Raven and Dan Thiesen, and their beautiful families—your love and devotion is a huge inspiration.
Thanks to my amazing kids, Amira and Khyber, whom I love so much; I’m sorry that I missed out on nearly half of your childhoods. That reality is the most painful part of my work and I deeply regret not seeing you first learn how to walk, tie your shoes, or ride a bicycle. You have both given me unconditional love, and not a day goes by that I do not appreciate how wonderful you are and just how hard this has been. Now that I am home more, I am eager to celebrate our precious time together.
Tara, my wife—dear friend, companion, confidante, mother of our children, and the love of my life whom I married six days after meeting you in 1995—I owe you immeasurable gratitude. During my frequent absences over the fourteen years of our marriage, your support and love has made it possible for me to follow my heart. Thank you for the sacrifices you have made and for being port of this magnificent journey.
Greg Mortenson
October 1, 2009
Glossary
AK-47 or Kalashnikov: A Russian semiautomatic assault rifle
Alhamdulillah: Arabic for “Praise be to God”; often used as a blessing to give thanks after meals
Allah: The Arabic word for God
Allah Akbhar: In Arabic, “God is great.” This exclamation can be used in prayer, to praise God, or to express approval, excitement, or happiness.