^[1]KANDAHAR, AFGHANISTAN: After my English class I waited for a friend outside the school. Suddenly a man with a big black beard, a big black turban, and typical countryside clothes approached me and asked for some money.

He scared the hell out of me because I was told by the school’s administration and by the other teachers that a group of Taliban had made it into Kandahar city.

Taliban suicide bombers frequently target English language schools in order to close them, because the students who learn English often start working for the U.S. Army as interpreters.

I looked at the villager and told him that he was a strong man and that he should work to earn his money–not beg in the streets.

He looked into my eyes and smiled. “You’re right,” he said. “But look here.” He lifted up his shirt and I saw a wide and bloody wound. I really could not believe how many stitches were on his stomach. It was awful.

The man told me he was from Helmand province. He said NATO airplanes had bombed his house and that he was the only person who survived of his entire family. Badly injured, he wound up in Mirwais Hospital, in Kandahar. When he was discharged he went to live in a hut in the outskirts of the city.

I felt sorry for the man so I told him that someone I know could help him find a job as a watchman in a government building. He answered: “I would rather die than work for the government.” Then he walked away.