Book Review: Images of Afghanistan

Beyond the curtains

A book that will help alter perceptions about Afghanistan

By Naeem Safi

Images of Afghanistan: Exploring Afghan

Culture through Art and Literature

Arley Loewen and Josette McMichael

Hardback, 350 pages

Price: Pak Rs.1995

Oxford University Press, 2010

The lack of awareness regarding the Afghan culture is mainly due to the scarcity of literature available on the subject. After the Soviet occupation, whatever interest was developed in Afghanistan revolved around its political history and evolution through various conflicts. And the Afghan arts and literature were overshadowed by the cloud of smoke and dust raised by the decades-long war.

A people of a land can be understood by their expressions, through various mediums, of their beliefs and aspirations. And anyone who wants to understand what drives this magnificent nation must see inside their hearts and minds, which is exactly what this collection has done, to a certain extent, and for the first time ever.

Though it can not be termed as a scholarly reference, as stated in the editors' note, "Academics may say that Images of Afghanistan lacks sufficient critical thought or that it is nostalgic…. Rather than an academic treatise or a cultural history, this book is designed to give a flavour of Afghanistan for people who want a starting point." Perhaps it is due to this understanding that the need was felt to include a preliminary chapter on seeing "Culture through the Windows of Art and Literature," for beginners.

The Afghans' love for music, poetry and other arts is best reflected in the moving foreword by Ashraf Ghani, "In this there is hope, hope for tomorrow, for and Afghanistan with dignity."

It is the first compilation of this type on the art and literature of Afghanistan, 32 chapters, grouped in seven sections that describe and discuss Dari and Pashto literature, themes of cultural significance, traditional arts, performing and fine arts. The two sections on literature cover the history and evolution of Dari and Pashto literature, its major influences, poets and prose writers, various genres ranging from the court poetry of the classic times to the traditional poetry of today, folk tales, children's rhymes, proverbs, short stories, and modern trends. The section on culture evaluates various themes that shape the Afghan mindset, especially their code of honour and everything around it. The traditional arts section begins with a study of Afghanistan's archaeological and architectural heritage from the times of the Silk Route and then covers calligraphy, traditional urban planning, woodcarving, and pottery.

Performing and fine arts are analysed in the second last section, with some beautiful insights that helps one understand and connect to the artists' feelings. The final section features two contemporary Afghan authors who write in English, Mullah Nasruddin, the role of Afghan women in literature and music, some other folk tales and the cartoons and comedy in the contemporary Afghan culture. Citations given at the end of chapters are a good reference for further readings on Afghanistan.

The books published by Oxford in Pakistan are seldom designed according to the contents and one's expectations. Same is the case with Images of Afghanistan, from its dust jacket to the hardcover and layout design, is not even above average.

One must admire the editors' humility and honesty. Their decades-long attachment with Afghanistan, living the culture, and their sincere desire to understand it makes the compilation much more authentic on the level of inquiry, than a majority of other publications on Afghanistan's culture by the 'orientalists.' Along with that, around two dozen contributors from varying backgrounds add myriad perspectives to the assorted themes in this compilation. However, one does have a feeling that the scope of the project is such which demands further editions on each theme discussed in it. The cognoscente from Afghanistan and the world need to explore this untapped region for its riches.

This book will help alter the perception about anyone who wants to understand Afghanistan, its roots and evolution over the millennia, and most importantly feel it beyond headlines.

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Published in The News on Sunday

http://jang.com.pk/thenews/aug2010-weekly/nos-22-08-2010/lit.htm#2

Journey: Beyond Jbad and Macondo

Beyond Jbad and Macondo



By Naeem Safi

With the mention of Afghanistan the first images that come to mind are war, terrorism, and savage people. However, the truth is that Afghanistan can be as beautiful as the rest of the world and its people as human as we think we are as William E. Gladstone had put it his speech once:

"Remember the rights of the savage, as we call him. Remember that the happiness of his humble home, remember that the sanctity of life in the hill villages of Afghanistan, among the winter snows, is as inviolable in the eye of Almighty God, as can be your own."

The first pleasant surprise is the beautiful road between Torkham and Jalalabd. It is a gift from Pakistan to their Afghan brethren. The road winds through beautiful landscapes, olive groves and streams. The sheep, in distance, with their gray wool seem like cotton flowers against the dark metallic terrain. The adobe villages with children running and laughing on cowpaths among green fields are serene images of hope.

The images of decades of war can still be seen on the bullet torn ruins still left at a few places, the occasional Humvees patrolling the roads for security, and Black Hawks in the skies. But all that aside, the streets and bazaars of Jalalabd are bustling. The boys in Jalalabad call it Jbad, no pun, just affection.

As we are accustomed to the Afghan dress and to their lifestyle somewhat, for us the cultural shock arrived in edible form -- in the bowl of fruit shake, which was supposed to be eaten with spoon, as it was too thick and was beyond the capacity of any straw. The Afghani cheese is saltier than Feta, and is not aged that much. It comes in flying saucer shape, instead of square cake, as it is traditionally matured in baskets. It is savoured with honey and those big Afghan naans for breakfast, and of course the green tea.

The youth in Jalalabad is much interested in acquiring various sorts of education offered to them by public and private sector institutes -- from sciences to information technology and humanities. But the most common craze is for learning English language. It not only makes them good candidates for employment, it opens their boundaries of communication.

On the invitation of the driver working for an NGO, we went to his village in Hisarak, southeast of Kabul, but in Nangarhar province. The four hours drive on the dirt road was an adventure in its own right, testing the limits of the SUV and its tires. The region is mostly barren with vast plains and snow-capped mountains on the horizon. There are very few small villages on that route, with some of the houses built like mud-castles. The vernacular architecture in that setting paint unforgettable images on one's mind.

Finally after covering long stretches of the dirt road and climbing many mountains, we descended into a small valley, preserved like an oasis in those vast stretches of the uninhabited lands. The climate was much cooler and the ambience filled the senses with limitless tranquillity. It was a permutation of spring and summertime, and really hard to believe, like love at first sight. There is a freshwater stream coming from the leftover snow of the last winter. On either side of the stream there are terraces of different crops, dotted with fruit trees and some stone-wood houses. The total population is barely over a hundred.

After stretching our legs at the humble terrace in front of the guestroom -- which is a few minutes climb from the stream -- and having sweet milk-chai (that was especially prepared for us, as it's not very common among Afghans) we decided to stroll down to the stream. It is like some dream world, where most of the wild growth and herbs are edible, and each one has a distinct pleasant aroma. The first reference that came to mind was Marquez's Macondo, as "The world was so recent that many things lacked names [for us at least], and in order to indicate them it was necessary to point." Our guide was pointing at each species, uttering its local name, and then persuading us to try them, while describing their qualities.

Our excitement hit the peaks when the hosts stopped under a mulberry tree, one climbed up, and two held a chadder below. In a few seconds the chadder was filled with juicy berries, which were very different in their colour and taste from its variant found in the plains of Pakistan. We thought it was party time, but the hosts had another plan. A small dam was built in the ice-cold stream and the berries were poured into it. It is really hard to describe that experience in words.

Since we were covered with enough dust from the travel, we inquired about the possibility of taking shower. Then realised it was not decent to ask for shower, instead we should have asked for bathing. But I guess the host did not understand the difference anyway and asked us to follow him while instructing a young fellow to grab towels for us. We walked along the stream downwards and then took a track along a water channel, exchanging greetings with the local farmers busy tilling their vegetables. We reached a point where the channel was going through a hollowed-out tree trunk over a small ravine. The host stopped and we all gave each other those inquisitive looks. Then he walked into the log and removed a stopper and the water started splashing on the stones ten feet below. Lo and behold, finally we had arrived at the world's most beautiful shower! Just imagine visuals like some Amazon tribe dancing and singing in the rain.

After a good night's sleep, we were ready to climb to the Chilgoza Pine jungle the next morning. Though it was not the nut-harvesting season, the view of the trees and the valleys beyond them was breathtaking. Sitting on the mountain top, the elder brother of our driver was telling us stories of his jihad times and that how the Soviets had come from the land and the sky to their village eliminating everyone that was present including the animals. The wind blowing through the pine needles was producing the background music to his memories, as if giving voice to all those who had passed away without knowing their crimes.

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Published in The News on Sunday
http://jang.com.pk/thenews/mar2009-weekly/nos-01-03-2009/foo.htm#1