Herat

Herat March 6-8
From the roof top of the Marco Polo Hotel I see a walled-in ancient adobe home with flat roof and courtyard (could be New Mexico) amidst plenty new construction. Herat is the best preserved medieval city in Afghanistan but (unlike in Kabul) there are no rules to keep the old city. Herat IS a jewel of a city, “the pearl in the oyster shell of the world””, and one of the best things about it is it’s NOT OCCUPIED! No tanks or heavy artillery, we can go anywhere, albeit with escort and still can’t walk around. And there are acres of pine trees and parks (almost totally absent in Kabul). One major danger in Heart is drug trafficking across the nearby Iranian border.
Trip began auspiciously serendipitously: I’d just learned about a street children’s circus-Afghan Mobile Mini Children's Circus (on Wikipedia-MMCC) organized by people from Holland and on our very plane to Herat, there they were juggling away in the waiting room! (see photo as soon as I’m able to up? or down? load)
One of main highlights for me in Herat was a dinner invitation from the parents of one of my students; Dr Naser also wanted to take me (us) to see the tomb of 11th C Sufi saint, Khoja Abdulla Ansari, called Gazar Gah, “the bleaching ground” of the soul, but we had already arranged for driver- regrettably as it would have been wonderful to visit this most magical shrine with him– I was so moved by it I couldn’t take photos inside. The tomb draws many many women –don’t know why. At the head of the mosque, there’s a large enclosure (the actual tomb of the saint) mad e of strips of blue metal (blue is the color of Afghanistan) with graves and tombs of other notable families leading up to it. There’s one side for women an d one for men; on the woman’s side there’s a large silver lock securing the enclosure and everyone, men and women, touch it reverently and say prayers. There’s an old woman (not in burqua) sitting on one of the graves crying out to Gd – she has no legs. Her image burned in my mind. Another woman in burqua with beautiful and beautifully dressed children- the two year old girl with red hennaed hair and sparkly gold embossed (so very common here, I’ve adopted it myself) dress. Another woman covered in black wrap (this is Iranian style) accompanied by small boy come s up to me, touché s my forehead and pulls my head scarf tightly around my head all the while crying out for Gd. This is one of Afghanistan’s holiest sites and one the few mosques not bombe d by the T.
This shrine is the most complete Timurid building in Hearat. Shah Rukh (husband of heroine of my play Gauhar Shad, the “Queen of Sheba” of her time) commissioned it in 1425- lots of Chinese influence in the artwork- Rukh had exchanged embassies with China. An Ilex tree shades the tomb –people hang rags with prayers attached on its branches, mostly women trying to conceive.
We also visited Jami’s tomb, Herat’s greatest Sufi poet (see photo with pistachio trees growing out of the grave - many many singing birds congregate in its branches)
Sat was a pretty ragged day for me keeping up with my companions-the previous night I’d had an asthma attack from the methane leak (common) in the bathroom of the hotel room. Still, I went looking for Guahar Shad in the library but nothing in English, nor in the book stores. Also met with Herat Theater Co – in existence for 80 yrs (photo of the principles)- they invited me to a rehearsal Sun AM but my late night with the doctors prevented me from getting up in time. Stopped by Gauhar Shad HS. The 200 pound Principal invited me for tea-she looked a bit like a character from Dickens in her black shroud and promised to tell me tale s of Gauhar at 8:30 the next AM so I missed them.
Visiting Gauhar’s Musalla (many photos) or what is left of it was the first thing we did when we arrived. Also, quite magical for me, to be at this place that I first read about in 2002. All that is really left of her magnifiscent Musalla is the her tomb and 5 minarets – there were originally more than 20 as well as a Madrassa and mosque- in the late 1800’s when the British and the Russians were fighting over Afghanistan, the British ordered her whole complex to be dynamited to provide a clear line of fire! A pointless exersize -the invasion never came. Her name means “joyful jewel” but she was way more than a trophy wife. She was a great patron of the arts, commissioned several architectural masterpieces (one in Iran) and was politically active. She was murdered for political reasons when she was 80.
Lots of beautiful children (not begging, poor but not as in Kabul) followed us everywhere. They were picking mushrooms after the rain and some kind of greens.
To be continued.