Three Cups of Deceit: How Greg Mortenson, Humanitarian Hero, Lost His Way (2 page)

Tanya Rosen:
Wildlife researcher and international lawyer who has conducted extensive research in Baltistan

Kate DeClerk:
CAI
’
s international program director, 2003
–
2004

Mike Bryan:
Journalist Mortenson hired to ghostwrite an early draft of
Stones into Schools

Kevin Fedarko:
Journalist who wrote
“
He Fights Terror
With
Books,
”
the 2003
Parade
magazine article that established Mortenson
’
s reputation; second ghostwriter of
Stones into Schools

Roshan Khan:
Kyrgyz horseman whom Mortenson purportedly promised, in 1999, to build a school in Bozai Gumbaz

Abdul Rashid Khan:
Supreme leader of the Afghan Kyrgyz people whom Mortenson met in the Afghan city of Baharak in 2005; father of Roshan Khan

Ted Callahan:
American anthropologist and mountaineer Mortenson hired in 2006 to write a report about the feasibility of building a school for Kyrgyz nomads in northeastern Afghanistan
’
s remote Wakhan Corridor

Sarfraz Khan:
Pakistani who oversees CAI
’
s programs in northern Pakistan and northern Afghanistan

Whitney Azoy:
Cultural anthropologist who has spent many years working in Afghanistan; Ted Callahan
’
s friend and mentor

Colonel Ilyas Mirza:
Retired Pakistani military officer who serves as CAI
’
s chief operations director in Islamabad

Haji Osman:
Kyrgyz chieftain in the Afghan Pamir near the Bozai Gumbaz
school

Ghial Beg:
Headman of an Afghan village named Kret in the Wakhan Corridor, where CAI built a school

*
*
*

Part I

THE CREATION MYTH

“
When it comes right down to it I am nothing more than a fellow who took a wrong turn in the mountains and never quite managed to find his way home.
”

—
Greg Mortenson,
Stones into Schools

On March 29 of this year, I attended a lecture Mortenson gave in Cheyenne, Wyoming. As he walked onto the stage in the sold-out arena, more than two thousand men, women, and children leapt to their feet to express their admiration with cheers, whistles, and deafening applause.
“
If we really want to help people, we have to empower people,
”
Mortenson pronounced.
“
And empowering people starts with education.
”
A book cover depicting Afghan girls engrossed in study was projected onto the screen above the stage.
“
So I wrote this book called
Three Cups of Tea
,
”
he deadpanned.
“
Some of you might have heard about it
…”

Laughter rippled through the crowd. Hoping to get an autograph from Mortenson, hundreds of fans were holding copies of his book, which had spent the previous four years and two months on the
New York Times
paperback nonfiction bestseller list, and showed every sign of remaining there well into the future. Some five million copies are now in print, including special editions for
“
young readers
”
and
“
very young readers
”
(kindergarten through fourth grade). Moreover, the multitudes who have bought
Three Cups
haven
’
t merely read it; they
’
ve embraced it with singular passion. Since its publication in 2006, people galvanized by this autobiographical account of Mortenson
’
s school-building adventures have donated more than $50 million to the Central Asia Institute. The book
’
s popularity stems from its forceful, uncomplicated theme
—
terrorism can be eradicated by educating children in impoverished societies
—
and its portrayal of Mortenson as a humble, Gandhi-like figure who has repeatedly risked life and limb to advance his humanitarian agenda.

Told in the third person by Mortenson
’
s co-author, David Oliver Relin,
Three Cups
begins with Mortenson hiking down Pakistan
’
s Baltoro Glacier in September 1993, having failed to climb K2, the second-highest peak on earth. A trauma nurse by profession, he
’
d been invited to join an expedition to K2 to serve as the team medic.
¹
After two months of punishing effort, however, Mortenson realized he lacked the strength to reach the summit, so he abandoned his attempt and left the expedition early. Exhausted and dejected, the thirty-five-year-old mountaineer reached into a pocket as he trudged down the trail and
“
fingered the necklace of amber beads that his little sister Christa had often worn. As a three-year-old in Tanzania, where Mortenson
’
s Minnesota-born parents had been Lutheran missionaries and teachers, Christa had contracted acute meningitis and never fully recovered. Greg, twelve years her senior, had appointed himself her protector.
”

In July 1992, at age twenty-three, Christa had suffered a massive epileptic seizure, apparently stemming from her childhood health problems, and died. Ten months later, Mortenson had trekked into the Karakoram Range with Christa
’
s necklace, intending to leave it on K2
’
s 28,267-foot summit, which is considerably more difficult to reach than the crest of Mount Everest. Now the defeated Mortenson
“
wiped his eyes with his sleeve, disoriented by the unfamiliar tears
…
. After seventy-eight days of primal struggle at altitude on K2, he felt like a faint, shriveled caricature of himself.
”
He wasn
’
t even sure he had the strength to make it to Askole, the village at trail
’
s end, fifty miles down the valley.

A week into his homeward trek through Baltistan, as this corner of Pakistan is known, Mortenson became separated from Mouzafer Ali, the Balti porter he had hired to carry his heavy backpack. Without Mouzafer
’
s guidance, Mortenson took a wrong turn and lost his way. A few hours later, he arrived at a village he assumed was Askole.
As Mortenson walked into the settlement, a throng of local youngsters, fascinated by the tall foreigner, gathered around him.
“
By the time he reached the village
’
s ceremonial entrance
…
he was leading a procession of fifty children.
”

Just beyond, Mortenson was greeted warmly by
“
a wizened old man, with features so strong they might have been carved out of the canyon walls.
”
His name was Haji Ali, the village chieftain. He led Mortenson to his stone hut,
“
placed cushions at the spot of honor closest to the open hearth, and installed Mortenson there
…
. When Mortenson looked up, he saw the eyes of the fifty children who had followed him,
”
peering down from a large square opening in the roof.
“
Here, warm by the hearth, on soft pillows, snug in the crush of so much humanity, he felt the exhaustion he
’
d been holding at arm
’
s length surge up over him.
”

At that moment, though, Haji Ali revealed to Mortenson that he wasn
’
t in Askole, as the American believed. Owing to his wrong turn, he
’
d blundered into a village called Korphe.
“
Adrenaline snapped Mortenson back upright. He
’
d never heard of Korphe
…
. Rousing himself, he explained that he had to get to Askole and meet a man named Mouzafer who was carrying all his belongings. Haji Ali gripped his guest by the shoulders with his powerful hands and pushed him back on the pillows.
”
Surrendering to fatigue, Mortenson closed his eyes and sank into a deep sleep.