He is an enigma to himself. A celebrated humanitarian and author, Greg Mortenson has worked tirelessly for the past 16 years to build schools in Afghanistan and Pakistan. For many months of the year, he leaves his wife, Tara Bishop, and their two young children, Khyber and Amira, in their home in Montana to go to dangerous, remote parts of both countries.
"I've been gone from my children for half their lives," the 52-year-old says with a mournful expression. They are 9 and 13, respectively. "I didn't get to see them learn to tie their shoes for the first time or the first time they rode their bicycles." Puzzled brown eyes lift. "I get criticized a lot," continues the author of the best-selling 2006 book, Three Cups of Tea, and its recent sequel, Stones into Schools: Promoting Peace with Books, Not Bombs, in Afghanistan and Pakistan.
His remorse is not tinged with regret, however. And he appears confounded by his obsession that demands so many sacrifices. Dressed in a suit and tie after making a presentation to a packed audience at a private Toronto club, he has exchanged his business shoes for slippers. He is tired, his thoughts often rambling before he stops himself to request guidance on what subject he should focus on.
Last year in Afghanistan, he became ill with a parasite that led to viral pericarditis, an inflammation of the tissue around the heart. He suffered brain swelling too. He has to rest frequently and needs supplemental oxygen at various points in the day. But nothing deters him from his mission. And he describes his medical ordeal not to provoke pity, but again, with a sort of bemused wonder over his imperilment, both self-imposed and situational. (In 1996, he was kidnapped in Pakistan and held captive for eight days.)
In February, he heads back to Afghanistan for two weeks. "I have many goals," he says as explanation, before listing his initiatives: continuing to build schools through his Central Asia Institute; promoting the importance of educating girls; expanding his Pennies for Peace program, which encourages philanthropy as a tenet of global citizenry among U.S. and Canadian schoolchildren; and consulting with the U.S. military about the realities of life in war-torn Afghanistan.
The son of educators himself, his devotion to building schools began in 1993. After failing to mount K2, the world's second highest mountain - an adventure undertaken to honour his youngest sister, who died of cerebral epilepsy - he lost his way and stumbled into a small, remote village in Pakistan, where people took him in, nursing him back to health. Out of gratitude, he pledged to return and build a school. His organization has now built more than 130 schools in Pakistan and Afghanistan.
"In my own observation, educated women tend to refuse to allow their sons to join terrorism groups," he says, adding that about 30 of the 1,100 teachers he knows in Afghanistan are former Taliban sympathizers, who explained to him that they defected after their mothers told them it was "disgraceful."
Mr. Mortenson, who received the Star of Pakistan for his work and was nominated for a Nobel Peace Prize, has called young women "the single biggest potential agents of change in the developing world," a factor he dubs "the Girl Effect." And he has found that persuading the men about the importance of female education is often a matter of discussion - respect for their cultural traditions can lead to an appreciation of how some of their assumptions need to change. "They were brought up to think women are meaningless, there to be bought and sold. [But]you can't change people at gunpoint or by force. If you are educating girls and boys, you can start changing mindsets."
He gives an example of meeting shura (a council of elders) in Oruzgan province in volatile, southern Afghanistan. Last spring, Mr. Mortenson took some of the men to one of his CAI schools at their request. "These fierce-looking men, with black turbans, which marks them as Taliban sympathizers, huge beards, and armed to the teeth with grenades, got to our school in Char Asiab Valley. When they saw the giant playground, they put down their weapons, and for an hour and a half, they went on the swings and slides."
Mr. Mortenson told them he wanted to build a girls' high school in their province, too. They were satisfied, he reports. It will be built this year. "I understand some are vicious, cruel people. I'm not trying to be naive," Mr. Mortenson adds, his eyes lifting again. "But it's why I feel it's so imperative that no matter where parents are coming from, we have to try to help the children."
He notes that in 2000, when the Taliban was in power, only 800,000 children in Afghanistan attended school. There were few female students. Today, nearly 8.5 million Afghan children are in school, including nearly two million girls. There have been attacks on the girls schools, he acknowledges, but that is even more reason to persist.
"I see a lot of futility in the West," he says, when pressed about what makes it hard for him to stay in the United States for extended periods. "Materialism," he adds with a sigh. The religious piety also irritates him. "People say God is on our side and I think if God is on anybody's side, God is on the side of the refugees and the widows and the wounded veterans, and the 120 million children in the world who cannot go to school."
He pauses to mull over the issue of his motivation. "My wife says I'm very gifted with cultural sensitivity and appreciation," he offers shyly.
His wife sounds amazing, I put in.
"Oh, she's a psychologist," he retorts, laughing in acknowledgment of her understanding of his complexity. In his book, he writes of how his wife had to order him home after he fell into a depression on book tour; she cancelled his engagements and sheltered him from any communication with outsiders.
I ask him about some of the turning points in his life.
"Well, let's see. The worst decision totally was when I got married at 20 for six months. We had everything worked out. We had jobs." He shrugs. His second marriage, to Ms. Bishop, was the best, he says. He met her in 1995 at a dinner in honour of Sir Edmund Hillary. Her late father had been a member of the first U.S. team to climb Everest. Six days later, they were married. Two weeks after that, Mr. Mortenson left for Pakistan. "I have a quotation on my mirror," he says to explain his thinking. "When your heart speaks, take good notes."