satellite receivers occasionally appear on top of mud-brick houses. The internet is non-existent, except in offices or the university.
From Bamyan I rode five hours over gravel roads to Yakolang to visit the Leprosy Control (LEPCO) clinic where people with tuberculosis and leprosy stay until cured. I sat in the sun with some of the women and watched one embroider a large curtain while we tried to communicate with my broken Dari. From there I went to Band-e Amir, where I spent four days hiking in the clean air and staying with a village family. At 8000 feet (2438 m) above sea level, I found fossilized brain coral lying on the cliffs above an amazingly deep-blue lake. Each evening I shared the day’s photos, letting my hosts see their everyday environment through my eyes.
My purpose for this book is to break open stereotypes. I want to expose readers to stories that challenge assumptions. I hope to help you see Afghanistan, her people, and their issues in a more nuanced light.
Biased, one-dimensional information in the mass media, from across the political and philosophical spectrum, guides people to view the world according to particular agendas. Important issues are conflated, leading people to form simplistic ideas about possible solutions. I long to see positive efforts in Afghanistan that will still be effective after 50 or even 100 years. This will only happen if participants take into account deeper issues behind the problems, and if reforms are directed by Afghans in a distinctly Afghan way.
Why do I focus so much effort on women? Men have most of the power in Afghanistan. It’s critical for young boys to grow up seeing women as human beings, as contributors to the family and society, as partners. Women, who will bring up the next generation, must first have that vision of themselves and their gender before they can pass it on to their sons and daughters. Through the portraits, conversations, and stories here, I hope to encourage that vision.
1/The Artists
The artist’s life is one of self-expression and discovery. Afghan artists have customarily faced a mixed reception. Performance artists such as singers have traditionally been looked down on, while poets, architects, and non-representational visual artists like tile designers and painters have garnered respect. Even so, women announcers and singers performed on Radio Afghanistan as early as 1957, and in 2003 Radio Sahar,1 a woman-run radio station, began broadcasting in Herat.
Afghan women artists face serious issues, ranging from the lack of a supportive artistic community to familial misunderstanding and apprehensions, to societal disapproval, to occasional anonymous death threats. But even in this environment of nosy neighbors, conservative relatives, and traditional customs, some women artists feel compelled to stand up to or otherwise work their way around these limitations in order to express themselves.
For many Western artists, and I especially speak for myself, the battles are with my own internal censor and my strong ethic of "work and responsibility" before "pleasure and art." The issue here is one of selfishness. By "selfishness" I mean knowing and honoring my own vision and sense of self; the sense and ability to be "true to one’s self." Self-worth is not the narcissistic interpretation of "it’s all about me." Artists need a certain amount of selfishness in order to create art. We need to know who we are, what we like and dislike, and what we want and don’t want. Being accused of selfishness is a mild criticism in the individualistic West, but a strong condemnation in the communal cultures of the East. Finding and claiming an individual identity is often a struggle.
Afghan women are normally immersed in rich, complex family lives with children, relatives, and girlfriends, plus endless rounds of housework, all vying for their attention. If a woman lives with parents-in-law, as many do, finding personal time is even more difficult.
A woman who tries to carve out her own space is often looked on as selfish and odd. Afghan artists face many internal as well as external struggles unique to their culture. Each challenge takes courage to confront and creativity to work around.
As Afghans struggle to recover from decades of war, art has been relegated to the sidelines. Nevertheless, art plays an important role in helping artists as well as audiences find a way into the future. Young artists are especially important as they bring into being their visions for a new society.
Saghar
Painter
I became interested in drawing when I was eight years old in primary school. I made some little drawings in my notebooks and people said that they were good. But no one taught me any art until I reached the university. This is my last year.
In Kabul in 2003, a friend offered me access to the Herat applications for the US Fulbright Scholarship Program. I was planning to spend time there and looking to round out my selection of subjects. I chose to interview Saghar because she was an artist. Her well-written Fulbright essay, in English, led me to think I wouldn’t need a translator. When I met Saghar, however, I realized that her English wasn’t good enough for me to do an adequate interview. She had hired a scribe to write her essay. Considered cheating in the West, it would be traditional and logical in a country where illiteracy is high. I offered to call off the interview but she wouldn’t hear of it. Since Saghar didn’t know any women who could translate, her husband, who wanted to be present, eventually found a male friend who could, and the four of us sat down for the interview.
Saghar has lived her entire life in Herat, a conservative, historic trading center near the border with Iran. Her school was shut down in 1994 when the Taliban controlled the city, so her parents hired a private tutor. Her college entrance scores were high enough to qualify for the Herat University law school. She chose to study art instead. She was married in 2001 and as of 2003 had one son.
Mariam
Photographer/Translator
My father was a big hand behind my success. He always believed in me and encouraged me.
I loved Mariam. We both enjoy travel and photography. I felt sorry to leave Afghanistan because it would have been fun to be friends and hang out with her. I could easily imagine adventures we could have had and photographs we could have taken… We did go on one photo excursion to the Kabul bird market – more on that later.
Mariam was born in Kabul and lived there until she was nine. Sometimes when she was a little girl, she and her older brother worked with her father in his shop, making tin wood-burning heaters. When the civil war came, her family escaped to Pakistan where she finished school. When the Taliban fell, the family returned to Kabul, where she found employment as a public relations assistant. Several years ago she went to the Netherlands for training, and later to India for two months to study photography. Now she travels all over Afghanistan with foreigners as a freelance photographer and translator and is the marketing manager for a printing company.
Setara
Writer
My dream and desire is to get my Master’s and PhD degrees so I can become a professor at the university and work for women.
I first read Setara’s writings on the Afghan Women's Writing Project (AWWP) blog. I was impressed not only by her articulate, thoughtful, picturesque poetry and sometimes humorous prose, but also the strength of her character as she speaks out for her beliefs and ideas. In person, she was calm. I sensed a pillar of strength residing within her. Her eyes glowed when she spoke of her favorite poets.
Note: Setara is an alias. Her true identity has been withheld from publication