Afghan Voices, Eugene

A small but very engaged audience with four actor friends who read the works of my Afghan students. These are the stories that will never be heard on the news: How many Americans even know there's a very depressed minority (Hazara) in Afghanistan.

Tamina's monologue of the Protester at the Shia Law demonstration on Darulaman Rd near the Iranian mosque, March, 2009, already two years ago. But the law is still in place, the story (of legal rape) relevant as ever.

Hasan's monologue of the old woman who has just lost her whole family in a Nato AIRSTRIKE! What's new.

Nematullah's monologue of the Pashtun man talking about the history of Afghanistan, singing the famous couplet attributed to Malalai inthe 1880's war with the British; also his monologue of the young Hazara.

These monologue were the result of using as a text, Anna Deveare Smith's FIRES IN THE MIRROR, about the battle between Hasids and blacks in Brooklyn

One of the pleasures of sharing my experience is the comments from the audience who see things in the photos I never have as in this painting by a young orphan in Kabul- it is the tent of a Kuchi family, the nomads of Afghanistan (was the child who painted it a Kuchi?) The person in the audience marveled at how integral the animals are to this family . . .and how beautifully rendered

One audience member sent an email suggesting this be a staged production which has been my thought all along . .

I drove the 60 miles home with only one headlite under the fall of giant snowflakes (April28!) happy to arrive at my cozy home in the Oregon forest plenty wood to keep me warm.

Swedish Military camp

Our final days in Mazar were spent at the Swedish military camp (for our safety during the expected New Year's crush). I shared a tent with my four male colleagues, bedding from Ikea. The camp was immaculate and the food was prepared fresh daily: filet mignon and ice cream by candle light on Saturday night. Quite different fom the American camp nearby where we went once for breakfast -this was the only good meal the Americans got: bacon, eggs, etc-all other meals were TV dinners. Another difference: many more soldiers of color at the American camp. Also, there were probably no felons in the Swedish camp.

All but one of my colleagues on our tour were gay, but it was a few days before they drppped their guard, before I heard about visits to Radical Fairies Weekend, before Michael talked non-stop about his desire to get layed, not unlike any other guy his age, though he was also the focus of female translator crushes.

Teenage Girls, Kabul style

These two girls came from Kabul with their mother, a veteran TV actress. She said she came all the way from Kabul for our theater workshop. Actually she was hoping we would pay for her trip to Mazar where she had come to spend the holiday, and picnic at the Blue Mosque, according to the daughters. Sultan, the young man in the center was one of our translators, and clearly on the make but it was the younger daughter on the left who asked if I would take a photo with him. Before she left she passed him a note with her phone number, he told me later.

Orphans

The orphans in Mazar as in most orphanages in Afghanistan are collections of sibling groups. Also true of these and most Afghan orphans, their mothers are in prison for misdeeds I have described earlier.

More Mazar

Why would it even matter to be confined to one's hotel in this city of wind and sand at the top of the desert steppe?
Because I did not get to see the Blue Mosque, surely one of the fabled wonders of the world. it is not just a place of prayer but a small world unto itself where families spend their holidays packing picnics. It managed to survive the Soviets and the Taliban. Legend says that any dove landing in its courtyard will turn white.

Mazar

Before I forget. Mazar was hard. But the hotel we were locked down in was way more plush than the one in Herat with sequin- flecked gauzy curtains lining all the walls, my own cazbah. (But when I turned out all the lights, the room was still fully lit- one wall was actually a huge poorly disguised window that faced onto the lobby.) The interior of this hotel was all I would see for the remainder of the week. Suddenly, Mazar, which had been safe for the last decade had its first suicide bomber a few days before our arrival adding to the biggest celebration of the year, Naroz, the Afghan New Year. .

Many many theater students had signed up ranging in age from near toddlers to adults. Michael and I split them up- I took those up to 15, he took the rest. We also had to share the hotel's one large room.

My women's writing group would meet in the afternoon in a smaller room (we were always making the whole show up hour by hour). After several false starts the 14 very enthusiastic young women revealed they could only meet outside the hotel; this was arranged with a little fear on my part but Kim from the consulate had offered to drive me (I asked this of Kim with mixed feelings: she looked at the portfolio I'd prepared -the women had requested focus on poetry so I'd printed up a collection including one by Nikki Giovanni about missing (her lover) in bed; Kim said I had to remove it; actually the word “lover' is never used and it more likely here in Afghanistan could have been read as a missed parent or sibling; when I pointed this out to Kim, she agreed-after everything had already gone to hell. The day we planned to meet, the international forces were conducting 'exercises' in the center of town in preparation for the weekend holiday. Suhrab, head of Mazar's writing group who had arranged for the women, called to say they had all canceled! They were afraid to go out on the street because of all the soldiers! International do gooders shooting themselves in the foot.

All was not lost. Mazar's only orphanage would be happily bringing 15 girls in the afternoons. Except they too were caught up for an hour in the logjam created by the 'exercises' and eventually turned back on the first day.

Out of all this we would come up with some kind of performance for the Friday before the holiday. I did physical theater and puppetry with the morning kids, combining sound with movement. About ten kids really nailed it and came up with a forest of beautifully imagined animals from sweet birds to growling bears; others made up the animals' stories. The forest was so evocative the large almost totally male audience actually gave a standing cheer in the middle.

Though I gave all the orphan girls puppets, I hadn't had enough time with them to plan anything so I was happy they would get to see the performance by the other children. Not to be. Just as the performance of the 'forest' was beginning, all the orphan girls were suddenly filing up the stairs. When it was over I ran up the stairs to find out what had happened! They were all gathered in the hotels's parking lot where Kim was handing out notebooks, pencils and other gifts so generously donated by Americans.

3 cups of Deceit by Jon Krakauer

Byliner.com
Krakauer, himself once a big financial supporter of alleged Afghan hero Greg Mortenson, presents another view that shows Mortenson's collection of hundreds of thousands of dollars in the name of building schools for Afghan children to be a sham. (Also reported on 60 minutes, March 17, 2011.) This has all been known for some time in country. It's frustrating that our celebrity cult places such trust and funds in the hands of self-aggrandizers like Mortenson; that so much of what we know about Afghanistan is filtered through their salacious stories. Mortenson isn't alone. Also on every talk show, etc this month is Jere Van Dyke, a journalist abducted by the Taliban and who was honored this week by the University of Oregon's School of Journalism during a day of celebrating ethics. What would the truly honorable journalist Robert Ruhl, for whom the lecture is named, have to say about honoring this particular journalist? Sure, he has a good story to tell but what exactly has Mr Van Dyke contributed to the Afghan dilemma besides a compelling story of abduction? In the end the story is all about him. What happened to the Afghans?

chador, Herati style

in case you think Afghanistan is a democracy

just because the international community underwrote the last election to the tune of 120 million,

Read "Disappearing Ink: Letter from Kabul" Harper's, January, 2011

After Karzai was 'elected', many in the international community hoped at least the Parliament would provide a check. From report on Parliament's great accomplishments:1. "ordering stickers with the names of members for their desks; 2. bill gving immunity to those accused of war crimes.

Hazara

I dont think I mentioned that Simorgh Theater Co is Hazara, the beleagured minority of Afghanistan, the ' blacks'. They live in the Hazara ghetto outside of Herat. The only option for trained actors in Afghanistan is TV but there are no Hazaras on TV. One of Simorgh's major complaints is that they spend a few years training good actors who must eventually give it up. There is a plan to teach the company to become self sufficient by performing short plays about social issues out in the community -to Pashtuns and Tajiks at the local women's shelter?

In Kabul, the Hazaras are the beasts of burden on the street, the men you see pulling carts loaded with construction materials, etc They were also among the best and most serious students at American U., the least likely to act entitled. Bamyian is their province and during the time of Taliban rule, they were those most victimized and massacred. Susana told me that when she and her family were fleeing to Iran, their car would repeatedly be stopped and searched for Hazara who would have been summarily murdered if found.

Zuri's Afghan Eggplant

Ingredients:
1. Aubergines – long thin ones 1 per person
2. Fresh green chillies – long thin ones 3 per person
3. Garlic – 2 clove per person
4. Cooking oil – 10 table spoons
5. Onions – one for every two aubergines
6. Fresh tomatoes – one for every 2 aubergines
7. Tomato paste a small tea spoon
8. Salt to taste
9. Yoghurt and coriander for garnish

Method:
1. Crash garlic and chillies in a pestle and morter. You can use sea salt or just plain salt to help with crashing. Crash until a paste is created
2. Wash the aubergines thoroughly. Made a lengthwise slit all the way from the bottom to the top of the aubergine.
3. Using a spoon smear an even layer of the paste into the slit you have made in the aubergines
4. In frying pan warm the cooking oil
5. Fry finely chopped onions in the oil until brown
6. Pour 100ml of water on the browned onion
7. Once the water starts to boils off and the onions turn into a brown mash pour in the finely chopped tomatoes in
8. Cook until all the moisture evaporates and a nice even sauce is created

9. Pour the sauce in an oven safe dish which must have a cover - a shallow casserole dish is best
10. Place the aubergines over the sauce
11. Bake for 40 minutes at 350 degree - half way through the baking it may be a good ideas to turn the aubergines around so they are cooked evenly
12. Serve on a bed of yoghurt and garnish with coriander

Malalai Joya

from Ed:

I thought of you when I saw this interview with Malalai Joya, who was just allowed, after much protest in her favor, to come to the US. She quite convincingly talks to all the points anyone would raise in favor of continued occupation of Afghanistan. The woman is so intense, it is quite something to see/hear her.


www.commondreams.org/malalai-joya

Interview by friend and fellow playwright Beverly Andrews in The Middle East, March, 2011

www6.lexisnexis.com/publisher/EndUser?Action...574...

"We're all sitting around on a blanket on the grass as the sun goes down. AZ is reading one of the submissions for the short story contest sponsored by a German NGO. He's reading it in Dari and translating into English. His translation is exquisitely detailed--he explains all the many layers of metaphor. One of the more beautiful is the explanation of a mother pulling at the shirt of the man who is about to killher daughter, his wife. This part of the shirt, the lower portion ofthe shalwar kameez, is sacred on both men and women but especially women, because this is the part of the body from which humans are born. When you make a plea to someone in this way, the person is bound tohonour the supplicant.
"The story is only two pages long and yet it tells so much-- There are other evocative metaphors: the writer hears a dog giving birthinside a house he is observing. He imagines the dog is mourning the birth of her pup because of the terrible life it is bound to lead, and he compares this new life of a dog to that of a human being born atthis this time."

Afghan Voices 2011, Eugene Public Library

10th and Olive St, Thursday, April 28, 6 PM

Al Ansari (Orphanage) Theater Co?

Using some of the puppets I brought from Alaska, the older girls came up with a wonderful piece of theater; my translators, Susana and Fatemah taught the four year olds the stick dance and costumed everyone. And then as I reported earlier, none of them got to perform. Susan and Fatemah planned to continue after I left; Monique offered to provide an opportunity to perform at the consulate.

Why are these children here? One parent I met, a 25 year old with a two month old infant left her 5 other children here because her husband is in prison and she can't afford to keep them. Many of these girls are here because their mothers are in jail for various deeds ranging from convictions for (forced) drug dealing to leaving abusive husbands. The US builds some of the prisons that house them.

There is no adoption in Afghanistan. What is the future for these girls when the future for girls with parents in Afghanistan leaves a lot to be desired.

Who benefits from cultural diplomacy?

The intention of American Voices theater projects is to work with already established theater groups; thus in Herat, Simorgh is usually the recipient of any country bringing in cultural diplomacy workers. Norway, for example, paid the recipients skewing their expectations. I was supposed to work with the National Theater in the afternoons but they wanted to be paid. I liked the idea of spreading the opportunity and proposed working at an orphanage which is how I came to spend my afternoons with these girls. Whatever these girls may have lacked in acting ability, they more than made up for in imagination.

The interior of the orphanage was heated by diesel, seriously toxic fumes adding to the long ledger of things these intrepid girls have to survive so the following day with great weather I proposed we gather outside. Since they'd be expected to participate in the weekend's performance, in addition to theater games and improv, we worked on the traditional stick dance (and also because they loved doing it-PE there was not). I beat the cheap plastic drum while the girls worked up a frenzy of dance moves and stick pounding. When I returned the following day, I was informed there would be no dancing outside and no dancing of older girls inside or outside. (We would be able to teach the four-year olds the stick dance, Inside. The appalled (!?) neighbors had complained.

What's political?

Sometimes when I've been invited to present Afghan Voices, the parties have worried that the presentation is not political enough. My friend Rich Moniak of Juneau Peace and Justice has this to say in response:

"I think your efforts are more than political
acts because it's rooted in the heart. People to people conversation will
always do more than loud voices of idealism. The understandings rising out
of such efforts is enduring. The politics convinced are apt to forget why it
matters."

What could be more political than these four-year old girls wearing turbans!

Grandmother's Memory

The same girls performed this original, clever and funny play on the final evening to much acclaim from a large audience of peers, parents, Consulate and Afghan dignateries; it is the story of an old woman telling her grandaughter about her youth and going back in time to change it so that she was the best musician, singer, chosen by the handsome shepherd.

Simorgh Theater Co Herat

This is a photo of the young girls who perform in their original work: Stones and Mirrors. They recently performed at a festival in India. When you see the photos from this link you might wonder as I did what new I could teach them.

www.nsdtheatrefest.com/stones.php

They are between the ages of 12 and 16 and very very skilled perfomers. The most startling thing to me whenever I saw it performed were the masks with their mustaches-young Afghan girls performing on stage very convincingly as men and soldiers (male gestures,body language, etc). This maybe one of the most significant phenomena I observed during this recent visit. Girls performing as boys and men from the four-year olds at the orphanage who turned their head scarves into turbans to the fourteen year old orphanage girl, Fausia, who said, "all Afghan women want to be men."