This post is part of a series called Miyamoto in Afghanistan July 21th 2022 5:30 AM -Kabul Airport- Our team is on board a 1970s-era Soviet-made cargo helicopter provided by the UN. Besides us, Laila and Amir from the IOM/UN have joined us for this mission. Also, Zadran, our Afghanistan program manager to whom we have introduced a couple of days ago through our contact in the US, is with us. The last few days have been hectic at the UN base where we live inside steel containers. We have met engineers who had just come back from the field.…

This post is part of a series called Miyamoto in Afghanistan July 18th 2022 3:30 AM Dubai I am on a bus at 3:30 AM on my way to a flight to Kabul. The bus is crowded with Afghanistan families and businessmen and a few aid workers like us. I can hear Afghanistan kids speaking with American accents. Interesting… I never thought this would be the case. This midnight flight from Dubai is the only available commercial flight to this embargoed country. Taking off from LA, I have been flying for over 30 hours. I am getting exhausted.    …

This post is part of a series called Miyamoto in Haiti 1:40 PM, Tuesday, February 1, 2022 I am four-wheel driving on a muddy dirt road in the middle of a green tobacco field in the south of Haiti, near Les Cayes. It’s the middle of winter, but here it’s hot and humid, and my back is cramped and sore from the prolonged rocking motion. I am trying to rendezvous with Felipe, who is a country director of the United Nations Office of Project Services (UNOPS). Our team and UNOPS have teamed up to assist and operate 520 Haitian engineers…

This post is part of a series called Miyamoto in Haiti Dec. 23, 2021, 5:05 p.m. PST Les Cayes, Haiti — I quickly jump from our old Mazda four-wheel-drive truck onto an old Chinese-made motorcycle in a jampacked, dusty, hot road. They call it a “moto.” There are thousands of them here in Port-au-Prince, Haiti. Just a couple of dollars; they will take you anywhere without stopping in traffic. I must take a flight to the south, where the earthquake disaster is. But in the meantime, I need to get there by avoiding deadly traffic jams. They are, in fact,…

This post is part of a series called Miyamoto in Haiti I step into a dark, small bedroom. I hear my partner’s feet behind me. The room’s windows and doors are covered by thick drapes, hindering any light from entering the room. The bare concrete floor is wet, but the heat is edging towards unbearable. I feel it on my skin. The temperature must be somewhere close to 100 degrees (40 in Celsius) with 90% tropical humidity. Sweat runs down my back, drenching my shirt. Burning charcoal lingers in the air with an undertone of old sweat. The room is…

This post is part of a series called Miyamoto in Myanmar YANGON, Myanmar–We are driving up to a destroyed water pipeline on a bumpy, 200-year-old, British-made highway. I am in the middle of the Myanmar jungle. It is about 40°C (104°F). It’s dusty, and it’s hot. It’s still the dry season here, and both sides of the highway are lined with low-lying bushes, palm trees and occasional villages with a golden pagoda. The people are friendly and quick to smile. Our team is part of a government mission to investigate an earthquake-damaged water supply chain. A municipal engineer informed us…