Inside Afghanistan: The American Who Stayed Behind After 9/11 and His Mission of Mercy to a War-Torn People
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He is living what many would call a nightmare. John Weaver is serving God in a war-torn country that is being blamed for the terrorist acts on American soil. Despite the fact that every day is dangerous and possibly life-threatening, John Weaver believes he sees God at work in Afghanistan and he is optimistic about its spiritual future. "Inside Afghanistan" is the story of the Taliban and September 11, as only this servant of God can tell it. John Weaver was there as the last American aid worker in the hostile country he now calls home. He is witness to God's ability to use ordinary Christians in the U.S. to "spread the Gospel of Jesus Christ to a country that otherwise wouldn't have had the opportunity." This is John Weaver's riveting account of why he went and why he wouldn't leave.
found themselves bloodied, broken, and bewildered by the violent events that slammed them together. Survivors on both sides are still trying to make sense of the resulting chaos and death. But everyone knows the collision was no accident. Since September 11, 2001, I’ve often had the privilege of telling my experiences during the days surrounding the terrorist attacks on New York and Washington. In television interviews, radio talk shows, newspaper and magazine articles, civic and church
master of arts degree in intercultural studies from Columbia International University. As the school year wound down, I learned of a team of friends who were going on a survey trip to Turkey, Turkmenistan, and Uzbekistan to explore opportunities for service. Their departure date coincided nicely with my graduation, and I liked the idea of “scouting out the land.” So I decided to join them. To my excitement and delight, we even included in our plan the possibility of visiting the bordering country
are rare in Afghanistan, but moneychangers abound. Almost anyone with a little extra liquidity gets involved in the exchange business. When I arrived in the country, the going rate allowed me to exchange a U.S. dollar for fifteen of the most common currency bill, the Afghani ten-thousand note. That means a one-hundred-fifty-thousand-to-one exchange rate. Even small purchases in the bazaar require rubber-banded bricks of currency. I bought an Afghan outfit called showakamis at one of the clothing
intentions to confiscate a portion of our wheat, one of my staff finally came to tell me what was happening. I knew immediately something was fishy, because the main Uzbek commander, Mawmir Hasan, was very supportive of our work. In fact, I’m glad to call him a friend. He had already told me that if anyone caused a problem to let him know. Frankly, I didn’t have time for the interruption that day. So, in righteous anger, and determined to not let this spirit of fear win the day, I began to run in
several sewn-together, inflated cowhides. The homemade design doesn’t exactly inspire confidence. Leaving the vehicle also meant leaving behind the Codan radio. So once we crossed the river, we would have to remain out of touch until we returned. I called Supervisor Jafar, who was displaced from an area near Mawmaii, into my office and laid all these questions and concerns on the table. I chose him because of his personality and familiarity with the region. He listened quietly. When I was