Afghanistan Remembered

(Jackie Jura Afghanistan visa page of passport, 1974)

AFGHANISTAN REMEMBERED
by Jackie Jura
~ written in 1998 on occasion of USA bombing of Afghanistan and Sudan ~

Travelling in Afghanistan in the early '70s my impressions of the people were so strong that I believe I was struck to the heart and have carried a piece of that nation in my soul ever since.

The attitude of the people toward Westerners was different from that of any country I'd visited before or after in the overland route from Europe to Australia. They looked you straight in the eye and put their best foot forward to show their culture and country at its best. They took pride in showing the sights of their villages and cities and joyfully extended hospitality. It was as though they wanted us to understand how dedicated they were to preserving their lifestyle; that it wasn't by accident they lived as they did, but by choice. They weren't a people longing for modernization and envying our ability to travel and consume, as had been the case in Iran. They didn't wear the yoke of oppression, but on the contrary were determined to maintain their manner of living at any cost.

By the time I left Afghanistan I realized I had met a people who had an inborn sense of belonging to a culture that dated back centuries and for which they would fight to the death to preserve. I remembered them with tears and heartbreak when the Soviet Union invaded their country a few years after I'd left. Now the United States, with the complicity of the other major powers, has perpetrated an unprovoked attack on that sovereign nation, and I am once again suffering for the people of Afghanistan, and for the people of Sudan as well.

I entered Afghanistan by bus from Iran, arriving in Herat late at night. In extreme exhaustion from stomach cramps and dehydration, all I remember that night was being taken to a hotel room where I fell into a cot and slept like a rock. In the morning I heard the sound of horses' hooves and shouts. I looked out the window and saw turbaned men charging through the middle of the street on huge horses. It was like something out of the Arabian Nights!

Leaving my room I headed down the hall to the second-floor dining room where our entrance inspired indifferent glances from six or so Afghani men seated at a table eating their meal. They nodded at us but otherwise observed us from a distance. We saw what the people were eating and ordered the same. Our food came with no utensils and we got some smiles when we kept looking at the Afghanis to see how they ate. None of them used their left hand but instead pushed everything onto the flatbread held in their right hand, making it into a scoop. Not being as dexterous, we used bread in both hands for pushing. They must have thought we were infidels! After observing us for a while, they asked where we were from, repeating "KANADA" and smiling.

Going downtairs to the lobby and out onto the street I saw that our hotel was a three or four-story structure with a flat roof, something like the hotels one sees in the western movies only made of dried mud instead of wood. I saw a man climbing a ladder to the top of the roof. He had a pole across his shoulders and on each end dangled a large bucket. When he got to the roof he climbed a large cistern and poured water from the buckets into the cistern, then down the ladder he went and off again to fill the buckets from the water source. It dawned on me then that the shower I had enjoyed that morning had been possible from water delivered by the bucketful by manual labour. I've never felt comfortable leaving a tap running since and always try to get in and out of the shower quickly, remembering that in some countries a shower is a hard-earned luxury.

The street was packed-down dirt and very wide, and just up from the hotel was the hustle and bustle of the town centre. Both sides of the street were lined with stalls of merchants selling every imaginable ware. Trinkets and fabrics and leather goods and brass, silver and gold items were displayed and available for barter. Wherever you stopped you were handed a tiny glass teacup full of "chi" to drink while you bartered. I remember one of the most prized possessions I ever owned I bought there - a beautiful red jeweled and brass handled knife that folded out to cut bread and cheese and when not in use folded up and lived in my carpetbag purse - until at some future border it was seized under suspicions of being a weapon.

The streets were full of people dressed in long robes, including the men. The women were covered completely from head to toe, except for a screen across their eyes through which they could see out but we couldn't see in. They carried children with them and everyone seemed always in a hurry, going somewhere or coming back.

The streets were full of transportation - camels and horses and carts. The men had swords hanging off their robes, huge dark eyes, long beards and turbans. People noticed you but didn't interfere, just let you be in their midst. Along the way were teahouses where old men sat outside smoking hookas and drinking chi. Invited in behind the curtain the room was like a den or an igloo, with people sitting on dried mud benches appearing to be carved out of the wall and covered with carpets. They brought tea and asked questions about KANADA, everyone smiling and nodding when you looked at them.

The second morning in Herat I was hanging laundry on the roof when I heard children down below. Looking over I saw them all lined up with an adult speaking English phrases and the children repeating them. They were learning sentences like, "Where do you come from? - How long are you staying? - Can I show you the way? and - Would you like me to take you?" Upon seeing me they wasted no time putting their lessons into practice and for the duration of my stay followed me everywhere and eventually took me to places I would never have known about without them. I felt like the Pied Piper.

One time when we were on the outskirts of town a man came up to me and spoke perfect English. He had studied in the United States and had come back to help build his country. He invited me into his home to meet his mother, wife and children. Inside the home the women were not covered and I saw my first Afghani woman's face. We ate oranges and talked about Afghanistan.

Leaving Herat for Kandahar and then on to Kabul I left a piece of my heart with the children who had spent so much time with me. It is them I cry about when I think about what the Afghani people went through defending themselves from Godless tyranny. I imagine some of them were by then just old enough to be handed a gun or a grenade. Instead of living their lives in freedom and sharing their country with travellers they were leaving their schoolrooms to learn geurilla warfare with the men.

I knew when the war started that the Soviets would never beat the Afghanis because I'd met the people and no prouder or stronger people exists on the planet. The cost was incredible with millions dying in the ten years it took to send the Soviets into retreat.

I cry as well for the destruction of the land through bombs and for the atrocity of the landmines left by the Soviets to maime the survivors of the battle against evil - which is what they were fighting when they fought the communists. I'll never forget, as I travelled across the country, the sight of the distant caravans, miles of camels carrying the tents and possessions of nomads as they moved across the land. That entire way of life was destroyed by the Soviets as they bombed and rode over the nation with tanks.

Afghanistan appeals for food aid. BBC, Jan 4, 2008
...Afghanistan does not grow enough wheat to feed all its people and is partially dependent on imports... "The situation is serious," he said. Kabul has come under increasing pressure to take action, amid rising grain prices on the international market. And the political crisis triggered by the assassination of Pakistani opposition leader Benazir Bhutto has led to a reduction in wheat shipments from Pakistan. Some people also blame shortages on the fact that wheat is being smuggled out of Afghanistan to neighbouring Tajikistan. In some areas, the price of bread has doubled or even quadrupled. "Food prices have gone up and no-one can afford to buy all the food they need," said a resident of Lashkar Gar, the capital of the southern Helmand province. "A 100kg of flour is about 3,300 Afghanis ($67), and poor people will not be able to afford to pay this at all. The government should do something about it," he added. Helmand is one of the worst-affected areas - some say partly because local farmers have increasingly switched from growing wheat to the more lucrative opium poppy....

Afghan heroin flooding USA (the purest in the world causing seizures & overdoses). PakistanTrib, Jan 1, 2007

Afghan kids scavenge for explosives (left by retreating Soviet army) & Canada's new Afghan offensive ("Operation Bazooka" for Taliban). NationalPost, Dec 16, 2006

Reader asks how to create a learning experience for a boy who chose the poem IN AFGHAN FIELDS as his own

Popular Afghan singer killed in Vancouver, CBC News, May 10, 2005
Police say popular Afghan singer Nasrat Parsa is dead following an attack over the weekend outside his hotel in East Vancouver....Three men approached Parsa after a concert on Saturday night. He said witnesses saw one man punch Parsa, who then fell backwards on some concrete stairs. The 36-year-old Parsa was taken to Vancouver General Hospital, where he died on Sunday night. A 19-year-old man was arrested and initially charged with aggravated assault. Police have recommended that the charge be upgraded to manslaughter. Parsa lived in Germany, and was popular among young Afghans around the world after recording 10 albums. He had performed a concert in Toronto last week before going to Vancouver.

Profile: Ismail Khan. BBC, Sep 13, 2004
Ismail Khan became one of the most powerful men in Afghanistan. Until sacked by President Hamid Karzai he governed Herat, a city unlike any other in Afghanistan. In Herat, correspondents say, the streets are clean and orderly, and there are traffic lights that drivers actually obey. During Mr Khan's rule the city flourished, and Herati women are among the country's most educated. He was an officer in the national army and began fighting Soviet forces stationed in Herat just months after their arrival in 1979.He became a mujahideen commander and fought the Soviets until their withdrawal a decade later. Eventually, he took control of Herat, where he ruled until imprisoned by the Taleban when they swept to power in 1995. His escape from his captors in March 2000 allowed him to join the Northern Alliance and fight to end five years of strict Taleban rule in Afghanistan, earning him the gratitude of Herat's population. His face appears on posters all over the city - part of a personality cult he created around himself...Mr Khan's removal is part of Mr Karzai's effort to rein in Afghanistan's warlords.

Big Brother disarms Afghan heroes (militia fought Soviets & Taliban). Baltimore Sun, Jul 12, 2004. Go to 6.Super-States & 7.Systems

Soldiers playing Santa in Afghanistan (hand out shoe boxes of trinkets to destitute of war-ravaged nation). Canoe.com, Dec 20, 2003

3,000 troops to Afghanistan & Bosnia (to fight non-existent enemy). National Post, Jun 28, 2003. Go to 12.Ministry of Peace (War) & ARMY TO AFGHANISTAN & BOSNIA?

Afghanistan world's biggest heroin dealer (poppies springing up everywhere in midst of Western armies). Independent, Jun 22, 2003. Go to OPIUM WARS WITHIN

2,000 CAN troops to Afghanistan (without public or gov't approval). National Post, May 30, 2003. Go to 4.Old World Destruction & 11.Ministry of Peace

USA B-52s bomb Afghan targets (drop seven 2,000-pound bombs). BBC, Dec 2, 2002. Go to 6.Disputed Territories & 12.Minipax

Afghan valley yields bitter crop (farmers yearn for land laid waste by war). Toronto Star, Mar 4, 2002