Bitter scary exhilarating relief sweet ... one moment I am grasping at the straws of purpose that bring me to Afghanistan and the next I'm feeling woefully inadequate at comforting our Afghan officer who's shoulders the program rests on. She is fearfully lying in the dark, crying listening to helicopters as they take care of the latest activity of civil violence ... the familiar story of a holiday ritual in a sacred place of many brought together for celebration. Marred by death fire smoke and confusion. Five minutes before I was reading the speech of one of our athletes who described a young woman's perils in Afghanistan - a crucible is the disbelief Afghan females can be mountaineers. From yesterday's dinner at the family of one of our girls. How her father described the shrine to his children in the corner of the living room - one are the decorations of his sons wedding the other certificates of his daughters athletic and leadership achievements. He bragged after returning to Afghanistan he told his neighbors, critical of his daughter involved in athletics, that they couldn't do anything about it. He's a proud father of a strong daughter with promise and potential.