Three Cups of Tea: One Man's Mission to Promote Peace - One School at a Time

Three Cups of Tea: One Man's Mission to Promote Peace - One School at a Time

Greg Mortenson, David Oliver Relin

Language: English

Pages: 349

ISBN: 0143038257

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


The astonishing, uplifting story of a real-life Indiana Jones and his humanitarian campaign to use education to combat terrorism in the Taliban’s backyard

Anyone who despairs of the individual’s power to change lives has to read the story of Greg Mortenson, a homeless mountaineer who, following a 1993 climb of Pakistan’s treacherous K2, was inspired by a chance encounter with impoverished mountain villagers and promised to build them a school. Over the next decade he built fifty-five schools—especially for girls—that offer a balanced education in one of the most isolated and dangerous regions on earth. As it chronicles Mortenson’s quest, which has brought him into conflict with both enraged Islamists and uncomprehending Americans, Three Cups of Tea combines adventure with a celebration of the humanitarian spirit.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

looking for my socks,” Vera said, fishing interminably through the drawers of her dresser as Mortenson pulled a pillow over his head and cringed beneath it. Back on the airplane to Bozeman, empty-handed, Mortenson realized that his hostess had never intended to donate any money. “She didn’t even ask one question about my work, or the children of Pakistan,” Mortenson says. “She was just a lonely woman who wanted a visitor, and I told myself I’d better be smarter in the future.” But Mortenson

threatening. Their shalwar kamiz were as stained and torn as his own, and most were barefoot despite the cold. Mortenson smelled the village of Korphe a mile before he approached it. The scent of juniper woodsmoke and unwashed humanity was overwhelming after the sterility of altitude. Thinking he was still on the correct trail, he assumed he was approaching Askole, which he’d passed through three months earlier on his way to K2, but nothing looked familiar. By the time he reached the village’s

mother’s mortification, discussed the particulars of birth control when he learned she was dating. Each year, whether he was serving as a U.S. Army medic and platoon leader in Germany, working on a nursing degree in South Dakota, studying the neurophysiology of epilepsy at graduate school in Indiana in hopes of discovering a cure for Christa, or living a climbing bum’s life out of his car in Berkeley, California, Mortenson insisted that his little sister visit him for a month. Together, they

Gingrich. And a star-spangled graphic across the screen said something that might have been a foreign language for all the sense Mortenson could make of it: “Minority Whip Touts Republican Takeover.” Lurching as if the room were bobbing above heavy seas, Mortenson reached the door and pulled it open. Marina was there, wrapped in his favorite yellow Gore-Tex parka. “I’m sorry. This isn’t how I imagined it. Are you okay?” she asked, crushing his coat tight against her chest. “It’s...I guess...

bottles of mineral water in Skardu’s bazaar. Tara took advantage of the time alone to nurse Amira discreetly. When Mortenson returned, he saw a young man pressing his face to the Land Cruiser’s window, leering in at his wife. His bodyguard Faisal Baig saw the voyeur, too, and got to him before Mortenson could. “Faisal dragged the guy around a corner, into an alley, so Tara wouldn’t have to be degraded by watching, and beat him unconscious,” Mortenson says. “I ran over and asked Faisal to stop.

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