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VERN BURNS
Former Mini-Tour Player
reporting from Afghanistan
in the middle of a war zone
Blog: January-May 2012
Was It Worth It?
With only a couple weeks left in Afghanistan
I have to ask myself; Was it worth it?
I have shared with you about the people of the Middle East, from
Saudi, Kuwait, Dubai, and Afghanistan—Their culture, religion,
simplicity of life and opulence of the oil rich country. To experience
war in a land with a people that have fought for years, declaring
religious rights, moral rights, territorial rights and the rights
of the extreme has been priceless.
Developing
an understanding, first hand, of a people, whose rivers of passion
far exceeds that which I'm accustomed to. With western civilization
ingrained I attempted to only "wet my feet" yet, I found
the impossible. I didn't speak the language of Farsi. I don't
look Middle Eastern. I only held a golf club and a golf ball and
nothing else mattered.
Communicating was simple (and I was not considered different).
They wanted to learn golf, pure and simple. No concern about the
right clothes, the right shoes or where we were. "Try, Try,"
they would say to me. With that unmistakable passion, loud, almost
shouting and seemingly demanding, "Try, Try!!!" They
are human beings born in a third world country not exemplary of
the media’s portrayal.
This
is behind the scenes, the regular Afghani who simply wants to
work and not fight. Not extremists by a long shot. These are the
people we are fighting for and believe me, they are genuine, good
hearted people. They are men who work for 5 to 10 dollars a day
and their eyes were filled with the joy of something new. Never
mind the unthinkable, yet real happenings, that if they are caught
at the end of the work day by extremists outside the gates, they
lose their lives by the act of beheading.
I
have had the unique opportunity to interact, teach and look into
the eyes of a man that, for his family, physically runs out at
a certain time to avoid capture. To change, to affect a moment
in these men’s lives with a golf club and a golf ball is
PRICELESS! So was it worth it? Bet on it! Every second! A resounding
YES!!
A
few of them had unbelievable adaptability to the game of golf,
and a hand-eye coordination that was jaw dropping. My eyes welled
as I watched and instructed. I was moved by their efforts and
relentlessly pursuit of striking the golf ball. "Again, Again,"
they told me, in order to keep going until it was right. And when
they felt the soft power of a good shot; WOW.... We afterwards
would run to gather up the golf balls for the next try and some
more instruction.
All the men did not return the next day. We only speculate as
to why.
I personally hope to see them again
and find that they are alive. You could simplify the time and
call it “bonding”. Oh, but it was so much more. I
for one never thought the game of golf would transcend war. Language
yes, race ultimately. Yes, physical and mental challenges, certainly.
To reveal and connect the values, the most important values of
being human, to me, for you, I can now say "YES".
Soon
I'm headed to Peru and Colombia. Golf is certainly there and well
alive. With Farsi being a difficult language for me, Latin American
Spanish—with a little Portuguese thrown in, will be a welcome
change.
Years ago, I frequented the home of
Topper and Alice Carew in California. Alice has since passed,
however, around her home she had taken and framed the most wonderful
pictures of Lima, Peru. Every day I would admire her enlarged
photographs and say, "One day I will see that place!"
Topper, during those days was busy with his job as the creator
of the very popular "Martin" television show. I never
hinted that I wanted to see Peru, even after all the conversations
with Topper and Alice. The interesting point here is that I had
just begun to play golf; well, I was one week into the game (smile).
I
purchased a 9 iron, 3 wood and a putter, from a mixed barrel of
clubs and they were in the back seat of my Volkswagen. I didn't
have enough money for anything else, but I was sure that I would
somehow get all the equipment I needed. Leaving the Carew house
after working on their phones, I noticed a dumpster out front
that contained the old drywall, roofing shingles and trash from
remodeling that was being done on their home.
I was rushing to go practice with my
3 clubs and while driving away, I noticed a golf bag in the dumpster.
I never knew Tooper or Alice played golf! I was ashamed to go
inside and ask, for fear of my financial position; but I thought,
"Hell they know I'm broke!" So, I went back, rang the
doorbell and when Topper answered I used everything I had to get
over my humility and ask, "Topper, can I have that golf bag
in your dumpster?" When Topper said "Sure," I climbed
up in that dumpster, over all of the trash and dirt, grabbed that
golf bag and cherished it!
On the way to the practice range I
let the tears roll down my face, and didn't care who saw me. I
had a wire hanger rigged to my gas pedal (because the cable was
broken) so I couldn't give the car gas with the foot pedal. That
newly claimed golf bag sat in the passenger seat like it was my
afternoon date. At stop lights I would use my hand to wipe some
of the dirt and trash off MY very own golf bag. Ultimately I used
the t-shirt covering the seat— which was holding the stuffing
and springs in the seat. "I don't care," I thought,
I'll get another t-shirt from somewhere.
As I write to you now, with tears in
my eyes, that fateful day, I learned what being grateful was all
about…. I WAS TRULY GRATEFUL!!! Thank you Topper Carew,
wherever you are, you never knew, or maybe you did....
So for those who read my blog, keep giving. You never know!
I am truly grateful to share with you
my thoughts and my experiences. And I’m grateful that you
take the time to read my Blogs.
Developing
an understanding, first hand, of a people, whose rivers of passion
far exceeds that which I'm accustomed to. With western civilization
ingrained I attempted to only "wet my feet" yet, I found
the impossible. I didn't speak the language of Farsi. I don't
look Middle Eastern. I only held a golf club and a golf ball and
nothing else mattered.
This
is behind the scenes, the regular Afghani who simply wants to
work and not fight. Not extremists by a long shot. These are the
people we are fighting for and believe me, they are genuine, good
hearted people. They are men who work for 5 to 10 dollars a day
and their eyes were filled with the joy of something new. Never
mind the unthinkable, yet real happenings, that if they are caught
at the end of the work day by extremists outside the gates, they
lose their lives by the act of beheading. 
I
have had the unique opportunity to interact, teach and look into
the eyes of a man that, for his family, physically runs out at
a certain time to avoid capture. To change, to affect a moment
in these men’s lives with a golf club and a golf ball is
PRICELESS! So was it worth it? Bet on it! Every second! A resounding
YES!!
A
few of them had unbelievable adaptability to the game of golf,
and a hand-eye coordination that was jaw dropping. My eyes welled
as I watched and instructed. I was moved by their efforts and
relentlessly pursuit of striking the golf ball. "Again, Again,"
they told me, in order to keep going until it was right. And when
they felt the soft power of a good shot; WOW.... We afterwards
would run to gather up the golf balls for the next try and some
more instruction.
Soon
I'm headed to Peru and Colombia. Golf is certainly there and well
alive. With Farsi being a difficult language for me, Latin American
Spanish—with a little Portuguese thrown in, will be a welcome
change. 
I
purchased a 9 iron, 3 wood and a putter, from a mixed barrel of
clubs and they were in the back seat of my Volkswagen. I didn't
have enough money for anything else, but I was sure that I would
somehow get all the equipment I needed. Leaving the Carew house
after working on their phones, I noticed a dumpster out front
that contained the old drywall, roofing shingles and trash from
remodeling that was being done on their home. 
