After more than a month of trying, negotiating with people in Afghanistan and the United States, I finally was able to talk with Rihana on Skype.

First we exchanged instant messages to ensure we were ready.

We were a world apart, but her voice came through loud and clear.

It was 3:30 a.m. in Chicago, where I am, and 1 p.m. in Kabul, where Rihana is on the faculty at Kabul University.

Twice a week, Rihana works on her English with a Canadian teacher based in Korea. It's part of the "Armchair English" program from the U.S.-based Alliance for International Women's Rights, a U.S. non-profit organization aimed at supporting women leaders and future women leaders in developing countries focusing initially on Central Asia.

Rihana says that she wants to learn English to update the material she uses in teaching. The problem is that most of the books used in her work are horribly outdated, going back 20 to 30 years. She wants to sharpen her knowledge so she can do the best she can for her students.

Rihana said she had some experience with computers, but Skype was a new experience and opportunity for her. She said with the help of her English teacher and a computer trainer she caught on to Skype quickly. She said she appreciates the ability to reach out to her teacher, "a kind and intelligent woman who wants to help me."

Things are tough in war-torn Afghanistan. But it's one thing to watch the war on TV or to read about it in the press. It's quite another to live there. I was asked to withhold Rihana's real name and her field to prevent her from being harmed.

One of her colleagues explained to me why we had to be so careful: "People are extremist in this side of the world. They kill ladies for any reason. The mentality of men is just weird. Taliban kill ladies who work and study with foreigners."

I appreciate Rihana's drive to learn and her courage in even speaking with me. Here's to the day, when we can safely speak with Afghan people on Skype.