En español | As the longest war in U.S. history winds down, we spotlight the contributions that older Americans have made in Afghanistan. In a society vastly different from their own, these men and women have used their wisdom and expertise to help the country, and its people, recover from the relentless 12-year span of warfare.
These Americans are a disparate group. Some are aid workers who left comfortable backgrounds and grew tough in a hard country. Some are engineers called out of retirement for their expertise.
Many are soldiers in the final stages of a tour. Others are here for civilian contractor jobs, earning six-figure wages that can't be matched in the United States. Dangerous places command high salaries.
Others are driven to help. There are few places like Afghanistan that give people a sense of mission, be it fighting the Taliban, rebuilding the country's infrastructure or helping widows and orphans.
Yet the scheduled withdrawal of most U.S. troops by the end of 2014 will not be the end of this story. Many of these people say they will keep on working, even if Afghanistan becomes a more treacherous environment. And as improbable as it may seem to those outside this country, these folks (seen in the following profiles and video) say they'd find it difficult to live anywhere else.
Mary MacMakin, 85, once lived a privileged life, attending New England's private schools and later Stanford University, but today no one would dream of calling her lifestyle "soft."
On any given day, she pedals her bicycle through the dangerous streets of Kabul, where U.S. troops only venture out in flak jackets and armored vehicles.
She shuffles up a grimy stairway to reach the apartment she shares with an Afghan dressmaker. The bitter winter chill pierces the apartment's small rooms and squat toilet. With daily power cuts, much of the day would be spent in almost total darkness if MacMakin hadn't invested in large truck batteries, a transformer and other gadgets that store up electricity.
MacMakin says she spends "every penny" of her monthly $1,500 Social Security check on living expenses and on one of the organizations she founded, Afzenda, which enables impoverished women to earn extra income from sewing. She also founded PARSA, which trains Afghans to develop programs that help orphans and widows.
Like most expatriates outside military and government contracting spheres, MacMakin doesn't dwell on the dangers of today's Afghanistan. She knows that civilians working for foreign forces and governments have been kidnapped and murdered. But she has no plans to ever leave the country. How could she desert the women and children, she says, who have come to depend on her for the little help they get?