The Afghan Queen: A True Story of an American Woman in Afghanistan (10 page)

AUTHOR COMMENTARY:

Lela noted that she knew I would be interested in these conversations. She sent me all the notes she took, not just about the anthropologist couple, but also about all the people she traveled with. She supported my intention of writing a book about her experiences.

She was sure I would love the Gypsy stories and the ideas about the Silk Road and Mating Road. She related her travel experiences with the Afghans and especially with Mike, her Afghan business partner.

Lela realized that Afghan men were constantly searching for mating opportunities. Mike had recently married a second wife and was keen on marrying two more wives. During their long drives seeking art objects, she asked Mike, “Why do you want more wives? Aren’t two enough?”

Mike laughed and explained, “Yes, of course, in the West one wife is plenty, given the nature of western society. In this country and most of the Middle East, however, the more wives we have, the better. It’s not so much for mating, although that’s important, but more for extending social, trade, and kinship connections.

“I’m rich not so much because of my wealth in the western sense of wealth; rather, my real wealth is through all my family and tribal connections. I owe my successful trade connections to my parent’s tribe, and my political connections are the result of my first wife’s people. In fact, it was my first wife that suggested I take a second wife with Kalq Party links.

“My first wife’s cousin was active in Kalq politics in Kabul. The cousin introduced me to my second wife, a Kalq Party official in Kabul. She sought extensive links to my tribal connections for political purposes. The Kalq Party can arrange other strategic marriages when I’m ready.

I expect these marriages will benefit me, my wives and children, as well as our entire kinship network.

“All these family connections increase the security and wealth for all of us, including you, Lela.”

Mike continued, “Lela, you are a good person. You care about people. All the people, the families you buy from. You treat everyone like family. You see how we care for our own. The old, the young, the sick, all are lovingly cared for.”

It was Sunday in the Greek countryside and most of the shops were closed. By mid-day we found a shop selling excellent spinach pie and fresh sweet goat’s milk. That night at the garage where the bus transmission was repaired, a marvelous banquet developed.

The mechanics sent-out for some local specialties: chicken roasted in yogurt and garlic, a uniquely delicious potato salad with fresh cut lemon, chives and cilantro as well as fresh baked buckwheat pita bread, all washed down with
ouzo
. This dry anise flavored local brew packs an incredible wallop. Everyone in the garage joined in singing folk-rock songs.

20-Greek Style Potato Salad
*

The favorites were “American woman, stay away from me,” also that great anti-war song: “And it’s one, two, three, what are we fighting for, don’t ask me, I don’t give a damn, next stop is Vee-et-nam, and it’s five, six, seven, open up the pearly gates, don’t ask me, ah don’t know why, whoopee, were all gonna die.”

The Greeks love chicken fat. Many chickens are free-range in fenced-off olive groves. The birds eat the fallen olives and fertilize the olive trees. The result is lovely fat chickens, harvested at three to four months. The birds eat grass and weeds; also they keep the insects down. Chickens share the olive groves with sheep. Similarly, chickens glean grape arbors.

One of our hosts said that chickens do too much damage to grape arbors. The others argued this point excitedly as more and more
ouzo
was downed. I learned that poultry will roost in grape arbors, unless old crates are provided. Another said that the value provided by insect control more than offset the roosting problem.

Our hosts asked about poultry growing in the States. I related that small growers—such as my family ranch in New Jersey let the birds range free. But large commercial growers will have broiler-chicken houses with as many as 10,000 birds in a long enclosed chicken coop. Less than one-square foot of space is allotted to each bird.

Red light bulbs must be on continuously to calm the birds and prevent cannibalism. They can grow broilers to three pounds in four weeks. Feed is augured into each chicken house through long troughs. Similarly water is piped in.

Sanitation is carefully maintained. Workers and visitors entering chicken “ranches” must enter and exit a sanitation room. Disposable antiseptic paper suits, caps and boots must be worn at all times. When exiting, the suits and boots are disposed of in special high temperature furnaces. In this way the incidence of disease is greatly reduced.

Even with the most rigorous nutrition and sanitation there are disease problems. Coccidiosis, a type of microscopic protozoan, mostly affects weight gains and feed efficiency. Most poultry feed contain small amounts of coccidiostat drugs to minimize this problem.

A single chicken ranch can produce millions of birds each year. As chicken is the most popular and cheapest source of protein in America, billions are produced yearly. The typical American consumes over 100 pounds of poultry each year.

I told them that my husband grew up on a cattle ranch in south Florida and now is a biochemist doing research for an international drug company. He tells me all about his research. What sticks in my mind are some of the more dramatic research projects.

For a long time the poultry industry used small amounts of arsenilic acid (arsenic) to speed chicken growth and give the birds a golden skin color. Even the skin and egg color is “fine-tuned” in the poultry industry. Now a safer and cheaper poultry pigmenter is marigold meal.

I explained that Americans have color preferences for poultry as well as people. This, my hosts did not understand, until I explained that most Americans from the Mediterranean and Middle East regions of the world, preferred a “golden-skin” chicken, and also egg-yolks.

People of Latin origin prefer a deeply pigmented, almost red colored bird. Americans of North European origin prefer lighter, nearly white, chickens. So we have the North Europe, Mediterranean and Latin group color preferences, as the main markets.

Now my hosts understood the idea of marketing chickens and other food according to ethnic color preferences. In this area of Greece a light-skinned chicken is preferred. The restaurant keeper mentioned that cooked greens develop a beautiful bright green when steamed with a small amount of baking soda. The baking soda tenderizes vegetables and slightly sweetens them.

We were talking about our most unusual food experience. I mentioned a visit to a squab ranch on Long Island. At the time my husband was researching poultry diseases that crossed into people. A customer raising squab was referred to Paul.

My husband dealt successfully with the squab-grower’s problems. The grower invited Paul and me to dinner. The elderly man was a retired successful Wall Street stockbroker. He bought the squab ranch from an Asian family, as a retirement pastime.

No one at the garage knew about squab. Some thought it was a ball-game like squash. I explained: as with pigeons, squabs are doves. They knew about pigeons. Some raised pigeons for sport racing and eating.

Essentially squab are young pigeons grown until pinfeathers appear. Then they are shipped live to Asian restaurants and markets. The demand is quite high; squab fetches $5 to $10 a pound.

The owner took us on a tour of his squab ranch. It was attractive and sanitary with a mild poultry smell. It looked more like an elaborate zoo aviary than a commercial operation. A screened auger moved bird seed slowly through the aviary. The squab leisurely pecked at the seed and drank from a narrow open trough of circulating water.

Although the nearest neighbor is a half-mile away, odor and sanitation must be carefully controlled. Feed and management are relatively inexpensive compared to sanitation, insect and odor control.

The squab aviary was long and wide with a rounded wire covered roof. The flooring was wire, allowing bird-droppings to fall onto a wide conveyor below. At the end of the aviary a wide brush meshed with the long looping bird manure belt emptying into a manure-spreader truck below.

The ranch owner was proud of the sanitary system he devised. In the distance he pointed out his five-acre hemp field. Hemp is related to marijuana and produces excellent bird seed. His main problem at the time of our visit was flies. He had been using an expensive synthetic pyrethrum with only moderate effectiveness.

My husband studied the aviary as well as the feed and water formulations. At dinner that evening he recommended adding natural Dalmatian daisy powder (pyrethrum) along with marigold meal to the feed. Adding small amounts of baking soda to the overhead water-sprinklers also helped to repel insects, reduce mold-fungus and deodorize the aviary.

The dinner featured roasted squab. The meat was dark and as soft as chicken liver. Our host showed us how he cooked the squab in covered roasting pots with chicken stock. Squab were prepared by splitting and degutting the birds and laying them in an inch of chicken stock.

The opened birds were coated with lemon zest, kosher salt, fresh garlic, strips of fresh fennel and extra virgin olive oil. Small multi-colored Peruvian potatoes were added and all were roasted at 500 degrees for thirty minutes in large closed roasting pots. Five minutes before completion, a cup of Pinot Noir was added to each roasting pot.

The squab tasted wonderful—almost with a chicken liver taste. Our host served the same Pinot Noir with the dinner. The bones were thin and soft as rice noodles. We were encouraged to suck the small amount of marrow from the bones and chew them. The bones were a tasty soft cartilage texture, softer than the bones in canned salmon. All the flavors blended marvelously.

In this particular region north of Athens, the main crops are olives, grapes, figs and sheep. Chicken is not yet a large-scale commercial crop, though they are starting to supply an excellent chicken soup stock and jarred chicken fat with garlic. They spread this on bread and toast it. Also, chicken fat with garlic is used in cooking just as we use butter.

Chicken fat and garlic are considered medicinal as well as a savory food.

They have a small cannery for processing roast chicken in yogurt, with garlic and olives. The total production is contracted to a gourmet food chain in Athens. A type of scampi is made with garlic chicken fat, fresh lemon, thin-sliced tomatoes, and pitted green olives, all sautéed in a hot skillet for a few minutes before adding shrimp, calamari or other seafood.

It was the fresh-roasted chicken in garlic, yogurt and olives that cured my head cold. I’m sure the
ouzo
was a potent part of the cure. I asked how the chicken was processed. We were all well-lubricated with
ouz
o so the information flowed, along with the
ouzo.

Olive Grove without chickens
*

The range-fed chickens are allowed to graze olive groves and grape arbors. After a few months on “free-range,” they are herded into large cages that are stacked in refrigerator trucks. Red lights in the truck calm the birds, before blocks of dry ice (carbon dioxide) gently lull the chickens into a permanent sleep. This is considered the most humane way to process the birds.

Producers are keen on minimizing trauma, as violent death releases “fear” chemicals that reduce the flavor of chicken. Birds are defeathered in a caustic bath and rinsed thoroughly. The birds are then degutted, hacked into quarters and put in boiling “soup stock” cookers.

After degutting, all parts of the chicken are used in the soup stock. Chicken feet, bone marrow, crop and head are especially flavorful. The soup stock is finally strained. The solids are dried for animal feed. The soup stock is vacuum-dried to the consistency of a paste. The paste is jarred for consumers. A teaspoon of the chicken paste in a cup of boiled water makes superb bullion. I purchased a case of twelve small jars to send home.

LELA:

Anticipating my flight home, the drive in and around Athens reminded me of my previous bus trip through what was then Yugoslavia. Marshall Tito’s political power still united the separate nations in a fragile Serbian-dominated federation. But even in the 1970s, it was evident by the poor roads that the Yugoslav federation was literally and figuratively disintegrating under our vehicle tires.