Shooting Kabul (24 page)

“Uh … yes,” said Fadi.

“Well, I really like the way you've framed the shot. You can see that the subjects don't even know they're being photographed.”

“Thanks,” said Fadi, his insides warming.

“Personally, I love portrait shots. Wherever I am, even in the turbulent war zones or battlefields, I always stop to take pictures of people. People's faces reveal the real story to me.”

“It wasn't easy,” said Fadi. “The lighting was a challenge.”

“Lighting can be your friend or foe.” Clive chuckled.

Fadi nodded. “Especially dusk.”

“You should keep practicing and take some risks,” said Clive. “Making mistakes will help you learn. I still
make mistakes to this day.”

“Really?” said Fadi. He couldn't imagine Clive making mistakes.

“C'mon. I'll show you. I put together some stuff for you kids to look at—to learn from.”

Fadi followed Clive to a table in the back. A Société Géographique banner stretched along the front.

“Those are some of my latest pictures from my last trip to Africa and Asia,” said Clive, pointing to a large album. “Now let me look for that humdinger of a shot where I cut someone's head off!”

Fadi smiled and flipped open the album. The first picture showed a group of women wading through a rice paddy as bombs went off in the distant mountains.
You have to eat, even during war,
thought Fadi sadly. The next picture revealed a militia group carrying machetes, marching down the road in some dusty African country. Fadi blinked in surprise at the next shot: a young man wearing a black turban standing with a rifle. The photo next to it was of a group of women in stained blue burkas, walking along a dirt road. “Where were these taken?” asked Fadi, his voice soft.

“Along the Pakistan-Afghan border,” said Clive. “I was covering the recent outbreak of fighting there.”

“Oh,” said Fadi, his voice subdued. He turned the page.
His eyes widened, and his breath froze in his lungs. The picture showed a refugee camp. Transfixed, he stared down at the group of children playing, framed by a group of tents. One of the girls clutched a doll wearing a stained and torn hot pink burka.

N
O ONE HAD TO FLY
to Peshawar to get Mariam. With Clive Murray's help she was tracked down to the refugee camp where he'd taken the picture. That night Habib called the American consulate and
Khala
Nargis and told them where to find Mariam. Within twenty-four hours she was picked up and was on board a flight to San Francisco, courtesy of the American Consulate General. Two days later, the entire family—minus Abay and Dada—huddled together at San Francisco International Airport, waiting outside customs. Habib carried flowers, while helium-filled balloons bobbed above Uncle Amin's head. Zalmay and all the cousins held welcome signs as
Noor kept them in line.
Khala
Nilufer and Zafoona hovered closest to the doors, clasping each other's hands. Fadi stood off to the side, his backpack slung over his shoulder. Inside rested the rusty old honey tin, three new Barbies, and a box of extra fancy chocolates. His eyes were glued to the doorway, his breath catching in his throat whenever a passenger came through. Then, there it was—a flash of pink. Mariam bounced through the doors, accompanied by a customs official. As if tracking Fadi with her inner radar, she paused. Within seconds her hazel eyes discovered his and she ran, intercepted by Habib's bear hug and their mother's happy sobs.

That night, at the boisterous celebratory dinner at Uncle Amin's house, Fadi ate an entire plateful of
mantu
, savoring every bite. Gulmina, a little battered from her recent experiences, sat in a place of honor, between him and Mariam. Fadi glanced at his sister's profile, animated by the tale of how she'd made it across the border into Peshawar. She'd lost weight and her face was thinner, but it was
her
. His fingers crept across the soft carpeted floor, behind Gulmina's back. He folded Mariam's hand into his and squeezed. Mariam glanced back at him and grinned, then launched back into her story. As her small fingers rested in his palm, a warm, satisfied fullness settled through Fadi's body.

Alhamdulillah
—Arabic phrase meaning “Praise to God” or “All praise belongs to God.” In everyday speech it simply means “Thank God!” It is used by Muslims and also by Arabic-speaking Jews and Christians.

ameen
—Means “amen” in Arabic.

bacha
—Means “child” in Pukhto and Farsi. “Bachay” is plural, for “children.”

badal
—Code of blood feuds or revenge in Pukhtunwali.

burka—Enveloping outer garment worn by women in some Islamic countries.

chapli
kebob—A popular dish among Pukhtuns in Afghanistan and Pakistan made from spiced minced beef or lamb, cooked on a large flat griddle.

charg
—Means “chicken” in Pukhto and Persian.

dastarkhan
—Tablecloth laid out on the ground for family meals, which are traditionally eaten on the floor.

dogh
—Drink made of yogurt and water, and can also have cucumber and herbs.

Farsi—Persian language spoken in Afghanistan (also called Dari).

ghayrat
—Sense of honor and pride in Pukhtunwali.

Hazara—Persian-speaking group, 9 percent of Afghanistan's population.

hofbrau
—German brewery, bar, and restaurant.

imam—Prayer leader of a mosque.

insha
'Allah—Expression meaning “if God wills,” used to suggest that something in the future is uncertain.

jaan
—Means “love” or “dearest” in Pukhto and Persian.

Jalalabad—City in eastern Afghanistan, near the Pakistan border.

loya jirga
—Pukhto term that means “grand council.” A
loya jirga
is a political meeting usually used to choose new kings, adopt constitutions, or decide important political matters and disputes.

kebob—Variety of meat dishes consisting of grilled or broiled meats on a skewer or stick.

Kabul—Capital of Afghanistan, and largest city in Afghanistan.

Karakul cap—Hat made from the fleece of the Karakul sheep. Typically worn by Muslim men in Central and South Asia.

KGB, or Komitet Gosudarstvennoi Bezopasnosti—National security umbrella organization of the Soviet Union that also had operations in Afghanistan during the Soviet invasion.

khala
—Means “aunt” in Pukhto.

khutba
—Religious sermon given at weekly Friday prayers.

mantu
—Steamed ravioli-type dumplings filled with spiced meat, served with a meat, lentil, and yogurt sauce.

mashallah
—Literally means “Whatever Allah (God) wills.” It is often used on occasions when there is surprise in someone's good deeds or achievements.

melmastia
—Code of hospitality and protection to every guest in Pukhtunwali.

mihrab
—Niche in the wall of a mosque that indicates the
qibla
—that is, the direction of the Kaaba in Mecca—and hence the direction that Muslims should face when praying.

namus
—Concept of family, and particularly the protection of women, in Pukhtunwali.

Northern Alliance—Military-political umbrella organization created in 1996. The organization united various competing non-Pukhtun Afghan groups to fight the Taliban.

panah
—Concept of asylum in Pukhtunwali.

Peshawar—Capital of the North-West Frontier Province of Pakistan.

Pukhtuns—Largest ethnic group in Afghanistan, composing 42 percent of the population. They speak Pukhto.

Pukhto—Indo-European language spoken primarily by the Pukhtuns.

Pukhtunwali—Concept of living, or philosophy, for the Pukhtun people. It is regarded as an honor code and unwritten law.

pulao
—Dish of rice that contains a variety of meats and vegetables.

qabuli pulao
—Fragrant rice pulao made with lamb and covered with candied carrots and raisins.

Qur'an
—Central religious text of Islam. Muslims believe the Holy Qur'an is the book of divine guidance and direction for mankind, and they consider the original Arabic text to be the final revelation of God.

Taliban—Means “student.” It was a predominately Pukhtun movement that governed Afghanistan from 1996 until 2001.

Salaam Alaikum
—Means “Peace be upon you.” Arabic greeting used by Muslims as well as Arab Christians and Jews.

surah
—A “chapter” of the Holy Qur'an.

Tajik—Persian-speaking people and the second largest ethnic group in Afghanistan, with 27 percent of the population.

taqueria
—Spanish word for a taco shop.

Uzbek—Persian-speaking ethnic group; 9 percent of Afghanistan's population.

Walaikum A'Salaam
—Means “and upon you be peace.” The traditional response to “Salaam Alaikum.”

I
DIDN'T WANT TO WRITE THIS BOOK
… really, I didn't. I resisted it for many years. Why? Because it deals with many sensitive and personal issues—9-11, the war on terror, Islam, Afghan culture and politics, coupled with my husband's family history and escape from Kabul, Afghanistan. But no matter how hard I tried to ignore it, the story kept niggling the back of my mind. So finally, I was compelled to tell it. After much thought I decided to write a fictionalized account of my husband's story while explaining the complexities and nuances of Afghan culture and politics in a way that could be understood by young and old alike.

My husband's father was a professor at Kabul University in the late 1970s. Like Fadi's father, he too received a PhD in agriculture from the University of Wisconsin, Madison. When the Soviets invaded Afghanistan in 1979 and supplanted a communist puppet government, intellectuals like him were forced to make a decision: join the regime, go to prison and be tortured, or flee the country. Like my husband's father, Fadi's father was forced to make a similar decision. Although their escapes occurred at different times and took different routes, both embarked on a perilous journey that brought them to the United States. My husband fled with his parents and younger brother, who, unlike Mariam, was not accidentally left behind. Similarly, both families dealt with the trials and tribulations of adjusting to a new life in the United States. My husband, like Fadi, grew up and adjusted to life in America as a refugee and dealt with new schools, bullies, and discrimination—but both adjusted, made friends, pursued their dreams, and flourished.

For thousands of years, Afghanistan has been a battleground for outsiders. Alexander the Great and Genghis Khan came with their armies, as did the British and the Soviets. All attempted to conquer and occupy, yet failed. There are lessons to be learned as the United
States currently contemplates its role in this war-torn country. It is a land still ravaged by war and ethnic tensions between various groups—Pukhtun, Tajik, Hazara, Uzbek, and others. Despite these facts, Afghans remain a strong and proud people.