Chemeketa Voices
A Beautiful Place:
Ahmad Mohebi
Ahmad Mohebi knows of a beautiful place. It’s called Afghanistan.
It’s not the place Afghanistan people grow weary of seeing on the evening news and in the pages of the newspapers. Mohebi’s Afghanistan doesn’t include armed soldiers, both military and civilian, and it isn’t inhabited by downtrodden people struggling simply to survive in a war-torn country.
Mohebi’s Afghanistan is a place where people are allowed to live in peace and pursue happiness. Deep down, Mohebi knows he will be part of the change that will make his vision for the country a reality.
“I want to be involved in that process – to help people in the right way – to help the younger generation understand that they can change the political process in our country and direct our country toward a brighter future,” he said.
In November of 2007, Mohebi’s already winding journey led him to the Salem and Chemeketa Community College, where he’s been a student since January 2008. He’s far from home, but right where he needs to be, because he knows the path to worthwhile change begins with education.
Self-taught
Chemeketa is a far cry from Mohebi’s previous education experience in Afghanistan.
In Afghanistan, Mohebi's classes often took place in a mud-built building with hard, dirt floors, glassless windows and “the most primary educational materials.” Books were shared among students with different students taking home texts different nights of the week. It wasn’t unusual to run out of chalk. Still, teachers sought to cover all the topics (math, science, reading) a typical student in the U.S. would learn about.
Mohebi , now 22, was probably about 10 or 11 when his formal education ended in the sixth grade, but Middle Eastern cultures often do not keep track of age the same way Western cultures do.
In 1998, he attempted to find a way back into formal education settings after his family fled Taliban-controlled Afghanistan to Iran, but financial obstacles prevented him from enrolling in public schools there.
He decided to educate himself.
As a child he would imitate the foreign voices he heard on the radio. Even if the language spoken was one other than English, Mohebi assumed that all of the voices were those of English speakers.
“I wouldn’t understand what I was talking about, but I had a natural desire to learn,” he said.
Mohebi attended an English-language institute for a few terms, but it only reinforced his belief that the language was something he could learn himself. He started working with the simplest English texts he could find at local bookstores in Afghanistan. English-language tapes and CD’s he purchased helped provide context for the words he learned. He worked with the materials for hours on end, day after day.
Words are one thing, but usage is another. To learn proper usage, Mohebi would talk to himself, and inanimate objects, engaging in serious conversations until the sentences sounded like the ones he found in books and heard on the radio.
“I would talk to the windows, lamps, door, pretending that they we people and asking questions. That’s how I learned English,” Mohebi said.
It was the same way when Mohebi decided that he wanted to learn to use a computer.
“My first experience with a computer wasn’t until 1999, after we’d moved to Iran, and I’d seen them in institutions and while visiting other people. I knew I wanted one, but my parents wouldn’t buy one,” he said.
His parents were unswayed, but he convinced an older brother to purchase one for him. There was one condition: Mohebi had to pay his brother back by teaching his sister and nephews as he learned how to operate the machine.
He eagerly accepted his part in the deal.
A new home and the old
The first time Mohebi visited the Chemeketa Salem campus, the size of it revealed something about the people of the United States.
“I could tell just by looking at it that education was something valued in this country.”
His second thought was:
“How am I going to be able to find my way through all those buildings?”
He admits to being a bit flustered for the first few weeks on campus, but knowing English helped him build confidence quicker than he otherwise might have. The other ace up Mohebi’s sleeve was his attitude.
“Different doesn’t mean that there’s something wrong. Difference is an opportunity to learn something new,” he said.
In seizing the opportunities presented to him, Mohebi found a new home at Chemeketa. But, amid meeting new people and experiencing new things, he often reflects on the things that have happened in his life and what they mean for his future. He hopes to find work in international relations, possibly as part of the United Nations.
He would like to take best parts of American democracy to Afghanistan for his countrymen to experience.
“There’s a role for everybody in the United States. If you want to do the right things, you can pursue anything you want in your life and no one here will stop you,” he said. Then softly, and almost imperceptibly, added, “It’s incredible.”
I know that most of the average people in Afghanistan dream about that. They’re hoping for change. My hope is to go back there and be involved with the younger generation in Afghanistan – work together with them for a better life than the one we’ve had in the past.”
He wants to help lead them to that beautiful place he sees when he closes his eyes.
By Eric A. Howald. Have a great Chemeketa story? Send us an e-mail.
Updated July 24, 2008 by Marketing and Student Recruitment.