Three Cups of Tea

“Here, we drink three cups of tea to do business: the first you are a stranger, the second you become a friend, and the third, you join our family and for our family we are prepared to do anything—even die.”

Three Cups of Tea is the remarkable story of Greg Mortensen who has devoted his life to building schools in Pakistan and Afghanistan. After a failed attempt at summiting K2 in the Himalayas in 1993, Mortensen barely survives his descent off the mountain and ends up recuperating for 6 weeks in the tiny village of Kophe in the remote Baltistan region of Pakistan. He is graciously hosted in the village elder’s home, Haji Ali, and grows to become good friends with him and other members of the village. Just before returning to the United States, he asks Haji Ali to show him the village’s school. Embarrassed, Ali takes him to an open field where children sit with no teacher, scratching out figures in the dirt. Mortensen is moved, and though he has hardly a cent to his name, he promises to come back and build a school.

Thus begins the life mission of Mortensen. Up to this point in his life, he has worked as a nurse because the flexibility allowed him to pursue his passion as a mountain climber. Now, something else has taken its place in his heart. He returns home, living out of his car to save money, and laboriously types letter after letter to celebrities and anyone else he thinks could be a possible donor to attempt to fund raise the $12,000 he has estimated it will take to build a school in Korphe. He finds his break when a wealthy mountaineer turned scientist reads about Mortensen’s quest in a mountaineering newsletter and sends a check for the entire amount with a stark note attached: “Don’t screw up. Regards, J.H.”

The story is inspirational. Here is a common man with no specialized training and very few personal financial resources who is attempting to change the world. And in the villages where he has overseen the erection of a school, the world there has surely been changed. I wondered how someone can find their own passion like this. With Mortensen, a personal experience with individuals in the village of Korphe started the fire of his passion. He was single-minded in his quest to build this one school, but to then return to his “normal life.” But, along the way, and with the funding from one particular individual at first, and then from many individuals, he discovered that this was a mission he wanted to dedicate his life to. He learned new languages, he studied books about the area, but most importantly to his success and survival, he loved the people and built relationships with them. By building personal relationships and then using those connections, he was able to get introductions and tap into powerful elders’ networks. He was fully immersed in the village life and Islam. He respected who they were and sought to help them on their own terms. And he found villages that wanted desired education for their children and were willing to dedicate time and labor to construct schools. Mortensen also showed perseverance in setback after setback and an amazing willingness to forego personal comfort. He had no problem sleeping in primitive conditions, in eating and drinking local foods that seem terrible to my Western tongue, and in adapting to all of life in rural Pakistan.

So, with Mortensen, a personal experience combined with unique personal characteristics led him to the path that he is on now. On a smaller sense, I wonder how I can find a passion to dedicate energy and resources to. I’ve been thinking about this for a while now.

He had a few choice things to say about the American involvement in Afghanistan. If the Pentagon could count and report the number of top Taliban leadership killed, why could they not estimate the number of civilian casualities? And if the US could carry in huge suitcases of money to pay Afghanistan warlords to support their cause, why was the excuse used that the inefficient bank system prevented the US from sending the aid money promised? Mortensen also believes, and I agree, that the consequences of the US largely abandoned Afghanistan to fight a war in Iraq have been devastating to the country.

Just a few other things to say about this book. K suggested it to AJ’s family for the first ever F family book group. I had a great time yesterday going to breakfast with AJ’s sisters and mom to discuss it. I hope we can do this again.

With a major donation, Mortensen started the Central Asian Institute, that was overseen by the board of directors. But, one problem that I saw revolved precisely around Mortensen’s dedication and desire to personally see to and control every initiative. He was unwilling to hire an American assistant with the same passion to help unload some of the heavy burden Mortensen carried. Without training others in the work that he was doing, the organization would largely be symbolic in nature, but would remain dependent on Greg Mortensen and his charisma and connections. I also wondered what thought has been given to creating a permanent, income-generating endowment so that the finances are on stable ground and that the future financial well-being of CAI is largely secured.

Mortensen was in Pakistan on 9/11 and although his traveling companion quickly left the country, he stayed there for several more weeks with the protection of some local men. Movingly, many women in small villages presented eggs, tokens of grief and mourning, to Mortensen for him to pass on to women in New York whose children had been killed. In the midst of the aftermath, Mortensen acts a voice of moderation stating what now seems to be the obvious: “All Muslims are not terrorists.” And based on his experience in the region, he argued for the need to fight terrorism with not just military action, but with the education of Muslim children. For this he received death threats.

And one more thing: someone in the book commented that Greg’s wife Tara is every bit the hero that he is. She supports him completely in his work, enduring months long absence without being able to be in communication with him, wondering about whether he would make it out alive, caring for their two children alone. Knowing myself, I would have a hard time—a very hard time—with such an arrangement.