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. THE UPEI SUN, Thursday, March 20, 1980, page in I—-_-—_-—-—-—-_-*--

AFGHANISTAN BEFO

INTE RNATI ONAL : AFGHANI STAN BEFORE THE INVAS I ON

by JULIA GUALTIERI of the CHARALATAN

Reprinted by CANADIAN UNIVERSITY PRESS .have special feelings. I felt an

With the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan grabbing world news headlines, people have taken a sudden interest in the politics of the Persian Gulf region. But most journalists reporting from the region have ignored the culture and at- titudes of the people who have dug in to defend their soil from foreign aggression. The Charlatan‘s lulia Gualtieri gives a different perspective on the Afganistan crisis based on her

travels through the country before the current political turmoil.

Julia Gualtieri

Afghanistan is a land of harsh beauty and sharp contrasts between bleak desert, snow- capped mountains and lush valleys; between nomad, villager and city dweller;

. between the tall, blueeyed, fair-

skinned Afghans and the short, dark, narrow—eyes Mongolians.

The harshness of the land has made the Afghans a taugh people -— there’s a saying that if an Afghan child makes it to the age of seven, nothing will 'kill him save a bullet.

More than any other of the 30-odd countries my family drove through 'during our 30,000—mile, 15-month odyssey, it was Afghanistan for which l

immediate rapport with the Afghan people and their culture. It seems to possess a magnetic attraction that mesmerizes those who visit it.

Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that for years, Afghanistan's borders were closed to visitors. Only since the ’605 has there been widespread travel throughout it.

Or perhaps it has to do with the fierce pride of the Afghan people -— a deeply entrenched quality that enabled them to withstand "the British and prevent themselves from being

conquered by them. Throughout _

the centuries, the Afghan tribesmen have been known for their warrior prowess. Even before all the conflict ravaging the country today, most of the tribesmen, nomads and villagers we saw carried rifles as a matter of habit.

Of all the cultures we ex— perienced during our trip, the Afghans had been the least influenced by the West. The inhabitants lead lives segregated in small, isolated villages or are nomadic, making it extremely difficult for that which is Western to influence them.

Consequently, Afghanistan, the most "back- ward" of the Asian countries,

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tales of I

were transmitted byword of ,mouth along the ancient ' caravan route, today paved with 20th century asphalt.

For us, tales of fierce Afghan brutality against Westerners heightened the mystery surrounding Afghanistan, ad- ding a fearful thrill to it. We always listened to such stories of gorewith a sense of‘skep- ticism, but it was nonetheless true that the Afghans did not

hesitate to apply their moral code to the Western travellers,

and, if crossed, the Afghans

could make the consequences gruesome indeed.

In contrast, the Moroccans, Egyptians, Turks, lranians and ,lndians seemed very much in 'awe of us and the culture we represented. Whenever we stopped our VW van in one of their villages, they’d crowd around us, pressing their noses tightly against the windows, and elbowing each other out of the way to get a better look at these strange “nomads”. It can be quite disconcerting to have lhundreds of pairs of dark eyes 'staring silently at you.

The Afghans, on the other hand, stood back a bit from us, silently watching, but not seeming to be as completely awed. And they didn’t beg for food or money with the

\ .

RE ~ ~ THE INVASION ,.

patheticr lmDIOI'lnB eYeS 0f the work embroidery, contrast lndians, haunt me to this sharply the women of day. Kabul. The first time I saw a . These People Seem to eXUdea woman in that city, all I could Sense Of dignity and Strength see was a solemn figure coming that defies the dEfeatlSt attitude towards me, cornpletely en-

of people in other countries veioped from head to toe, a overcome by povertv- The ghost in the traditional chadori, followmg Vignette illustrates with only a slight strip of mesh this. far eyes. I was being stared at,

Bargaining is a way of life in but wasnit awe to see the Eastern countries. While we ~ womar“ eyes. were in Bamain, a village in the Dichotomies are common in Hmd“. KUSh mounlams fagmfi’s Kabul, where Western influence for “5 C°l°555l 8“ a is more evident than elsewhere monuments carved out of the in me country The 0mm VOCk lace! "‘V fa‘he' tried ‘0' present Coca-Cola ad- "eflmlate With the Nome?” of vertisements are juxtaposed 3 Cha' muse abwt mm!“ a with signs in Pharci and Pushtu dung hm f°' °‘" "'Bhdy advertising Afghan products, Wane“- and even an occasional pantsuit My father paid an amount he can be seen from beneath the thought was sufficient, but the hem ofachadori. _ Afghan brusquely thrust his And in many Eastern cities, hand aside, throwing the money the bazaar in Kabul throbs with to the ground and spitting on it, the essential life of the city, life swearing, at us in swift Pushtu. that for the most part seemed Rather than accept an amount untouched by the modern he thought too low, he told us to technological 80 Sleep somewhere else. loud cries of vendors compete Apparently. it was a matter of and mingle with the haunting Pride and honor. and only When cries of the meuzzin chanting my father said he’d pay the price the call to prayer. he wanted, were we able to stay. Our experiences in other the curb of the street having his countries had shown that any beard trimmed Afghan style bya

entrepreneur, from store owner barber wielding a six inch to street hawker, would take straight razor. whatever they were offered for This leaves the Muslim

their wares, rather than lose the tribesmen outside the city, Who salecomplefelY- . ‘ are an entity to themselves, TO me, it's this Prlde arid hiding-out in the rugged honor that infuses the Afghan foothills of the Hindu Kush. The rebel tribesmen with enough Khyber Pass of this area has Will and strength to fight against been traditionally fraught with the 20th century Soviet military conflict and tension. . technology with 19th century The Pathans the tribe in_

{Lgfisiquzgd 13th century digenous to this area, were ' - caught in the bureaucracy of the The one road to Kabul' the British when they divided the

capital, from Herat, near the . . Iranian border, is a stark black temtow m the lat? 19th century 1 between Pakistan and

strip cutting- straight across the . . ‘

brutal Afghan desert. Through ngfizg'stmbe segagzung tthe mile after mile of unchanging counwes The (I: if" Vgo desert, there are only two major tradit‘ion ’ “stow a mac?!" an:

towns along the two-day I . journey from the border to anguage and temperament KabuL Afghans, are nonetheless a Despite stories of nomad f'ercely'ndgpen.dem peoPle and hostility towards Westerners, we have peg" fightmg ever since to were lucky enough to have the establish acountry of their own. rare and memorable experience Before ‘crqssing the Khyber of being invited into a camp of pass we 3”” 's-sued warnmgs the Kuchis, the nomadic tribe not to drwe am." dusk as “us indigenous to Afghanistan. we.” when b."g,and Pathan tribesmen seized the op-

Actin as he envo s, m . , mother,g sisteis and Vbrothe‘i,‘ portumty to make frequent ra'ds on passmg vehicles: it was well preceded my father into the known that 'buses were the camp, for it is considered im- prime targets They were often proper for any man from outside fOfced to Step bY rifle carrying the tribe to enter a camp Pathans for PasseflBeI’S' uninvited when the men are out iewellerv and money- with the herds'and the women

left alone. where the view was particularly We were welcomed by the magnificent. my family stopped Kuchi. to take pictures. Suddenly "our

world. ’ There, -

Amid all this my father sits on ‘

'At one point along the pass, ,

STEAKHOUSEl

The Kuchi women greeted us by bringing out the welcome rug, on which we were invited to join the already-seated women and young women. They were

. dressed in traditional brightly-

colored mirror-work dresses,

car was pelted with. rocks by a tall, grey bearded Pathan, a rifle slung “acrosshis shoulder. As we‘ scrambled back into the car and continued on. our way through the dangerously twisting switch- backs, he followed us with the

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stare of his hard blue eyes.

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with their hair tightly biaided through glass beads.

As we departed, we gave them some empty glass bottles. They expressed gratitude and friendship by taking off some of their distinctive jewelry andi giving-it to us. ' .

These nomadic women, with“ their unveiled faces and colorful clothing mosaiced in mirror- .

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