The Afghan Queen: A True Story of an American Woman in Afghanistan (33 page)

I asked Rosy what
Bell, Book and Candle
refer to. She explained, “To start a witch coven conclave a two ring circle must be cast, usually with white chalk. In the circle a five-pointed star is drawn with each star-point reaching the border of the inner circle ring. The five star points represent the human head, arms and legs, as well as the geometry of the Cosmos.”

I think I really started something because she continued, “To summon cosmic power, celebrants must be sky-clad, naked and exposed to moonlight, preferably a full or glabrous fat moon. When all is ready, the celebrants step into the circle. Then the coven mistress becomes the Moon Goddess, Diana the Huntress. She represents the spirit of Mother Nature.

“Usually there is a horned god representing Great Pan, the nature spirit, disguised as a stag, white bull or some other horned critter. Next one must ring the bell, open the
Book of Shadows
and light the candle, to summon the power. The Book is read aloud according to the season and the powers to be invoked.

“Often there’s a ritual mime in which the Huntress stalks horned Pan. The pantomime ends when Diana snares Pan and a celestial marriage occurs. In the celestial marriage, Huntress and Pan are often lovers. They may couple as part of the ceremony, ending the ‘marriage’ by holding crossed hands and kissing crossed cheeks.

“The conclave ends in reverse order. The Candle is snuffed, the Book is closed and the Bell is rung. Often the circle and star are pre-drawn on a large blue bed-sheet. The circle may contain a square to represent the four elements: Earth, Air, Fire and Water. Every coven handwrites their own unique
Book of Shadows
. These may be similar, but no two are exactly alike.”

“Rosy, that’s beautiful. It sounds like a religious ceremony. You know so much.”

“Yes, I read a lot. What I described is a religious ceremony. It’s a nature religion, showing respect for the forces of nature. Nature worshippers believe that the Great Cosmic Mother perpetually recreates the Cosmos, all energy, all stuff, including us. That’s what we mean when we refer to Mother Nature.”

Looking at the refrigerators in the cafés of Kabul reminds me of home. Noor’s new fridge in his hotel bar set him back a bundle. It’s the centerpiece of the bar. The fridge is brushed stainless steel, decked out with flowers, more like a religious shrine. It gives the impression that everything is cleaner and fresher; at least that’s my sense of it.

I took one of the new hotel business cards, with the address: Neptune’s Inn, Chari Sedarat, Shari Nau, Kabul, Afghanistan. The card has a small embossed trident, as well as phone and telex numbers. These cards are like little reminders of Kabul.

Hot showers helped relax my tense, aching muscles, but I continued to feel the effects of horsing-around up and down that mountain. My back was throbbing days after ridding. After halfan-hour rest I was able to complete my Chemistry assignment.

The only part of school that interests me today is playing the electric guitar. I know it’s reserved for scheduled group practice, so without the guitar and not feeling well enough to play baseball or chase girls I figured I might as well skip school and feel sorry for myself.

My mind goes at about 3,000 rpm whenever I read another book about ghosts. I’m really suckered into
Things that Go Bump in the Night
. I’m thinking that dead people may leave some kind of energy behind. Mom and Noor saw me reading in the garden.

Mom asked what’s got me hypnotized this time. I showed the book cover and they started laughing. She said, “Come on, take a break, let’s play some poker before dinner. John is waiting in the game room so we will be a foursome.”

I replied, “Always glad to take your money.” John is mom’s Uzbek jewelry maker. His name is really Nobby Uz-Gaheer Ali, so I don’t know how the name John fits in. The poker lasted about an hour when we all folded for dinner. I was ahead $10, not bad for an hour’s work.

Noor brought in a large tray with spiced rice and pieces of lamb. They all cracked-up laughing when I asked, “Is this sheep meat?” Nobby said, “The word you want is mutton.” I asked if that was like lamb. Mom said mutton is an adult sheep. The meal was excellent, especially with the flat-crisp cumin bread.

We ate Afghan style, sitting cross-leg on a thick rug with the food tray in the middle. We took turns taking rice and meat with our right hand, eating it, and then taking some watercress from a bowl of mint-vinegar. After we ate our fill watermelon provided a perfect ending. The custom is to take food with your right hand and with your left hand—I’ll leave that to your imagination.

Nobby wanted to win back his money, so we played poker again for about an hour, while sipping chi. He won back a few dollars and was happy. By that time I was dozing off and Mom walked me to my room and bed. She was determined that I get to school the next day.

Nobby’s Wall Hanging

Rosy met me for breakfast at the hotel café one morning and told me one of the embassy staff was flying back to New York on compassionate leave, as her mother was dying of cancer. It was embassy practice to send a travel companion with the person. Rosy asked if I would consider sending Kirk with the young woman.

“Lela, as the Soviets consolidate their occupation it’s going to get increasingly difficult for you and Kirk to function freely in this country. Now that school is out for the year, why not think about sending Kirk back home? The embassy will pay all travel expenses. What do you think?”

“I was thinking the same way, Rosy. I’ve got a lot more business to attend to and Kirk is getting homesick. You’re right. It feels like the walls are closing in. I think he’s had enough of Kabul, and Kabul has certainly had enough of him. Let’s do it!”

While we talked, Kirk came down to breakfast. As he sat between us, I nodded to Rosy and she explained the situation to him. Not only did he accept the proposal, he was enthusiastic and joyful about it.

“Kirk, I explained the situation to your mom just a few minutes ago. We all agree it’s a good idea. When would you be ready to leave?”

“Rosy, I can be ready in an hour.”

“That’s great, Kirk, but we’ll need a couple of days to make arrangements. I told Lela that the embassy will pay all your travel expenses and provide you with some spending money also.”

“Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! That’ll work for me.”

The travel arrangements were completed in one day. As soon as we had firm data, I telexed Paul to meet Kirk’s flight. Paul sent me an acknowledgement by late afternoon. We took Kirk to the airport two days later with his embassy travel companion and watched as their Lufthansa flight left the runway.

Prior to his flight home, our friends showered Kirk with gifts and a going away party. Kirk was ecstatic with all the attention and I told him to enjoy it while he could, since he wasn’t likely to get this kind of attention back in the States.

“I know that, Mom. I may be a little dense, but I’m not stupid. It was great while it lasted, but enough is enough. I really want to get back to my life in New Jersey. It’s getting scary around here, and I want out. Mom, you should come with us. You may be in danger.”

We all assured Kirk that I’d be fine and would be home for the holidays. I promised him that I would finalize business in a week or so and would then be right behind him.

Before leaving, we talked about his plans once he was home. My son figured he could sell film and TV rights to his experiences in Kabul.

I told him not to count on it, but give it a try; it’s up to him. I won’t have the time to help him. Certainly he has commanded a great deal of my time already.

When I got back to the States, I planned to give most of my time to Paul, Erik, of course, Kirk, and my business, in that order. I also wanted to shape all our aerograms, photos, journals and letters into a book. I was hoping Paul would take on this project as he loves to write and I didn’t expect to have much time.

With the political situation ripening daily, I expected that my Afghan business was entering a countdown phase. I asked business associates Nobby and Mike what they expected our business prospects would be if Afghanistan became fully Sovietized.

Nobby planned to move his family and business to Istanbul. Mike expected to remain as long as his export business was viable, perhaps a year or so. I asked about Noor. Mike thought Noor would return to Nuristan and his clan.

My business associates believed that whoever was in power would want to keep the flow of foreign income intact. I hoped that was the case, but I needed to prepare for other possibilities.

The night of Kirk’s going away party we had a great time at Neptune’s Inn Café. My son played guitar for us and Nobby did a hilarious dance to Kirk’s folk rock tunes. Nobby was a funny man, as well as a savvy businessman, and we all enjoyed his antics.

Nobby’s crazy dance

It’s great that we were discussing business plans and having a wonderful time, as there was no way of knowing how many more of these evenings we would have, and we were all well aware of the uncertainty.

From government gossip, Mike believed that Westerners might be expelled within the next year, with Americans the first to go.

Mike said, “Lela, at this point in our business you need not be in Afghanistan. We have excellent contacts in Istanbul, and you can travel there or have them ship your orders directly to the States.”

Istanbul and Turkey were probably the most stable areas in the Middle East. Mike expected that most of the tribal art business would relocate to Istanbul, and much of the Middle East trade was already based in Istanbul. The Iranian Revolution had accelerated this process, and conditions in Afghanistan might add to the exodus.

As Mike, Noor, Nobby, and I were discussing business plans, my son played guitar in the background. Nobby showed us a cigarette trick and then a match trick where five matches are balanced between five finger tips, he’s quite an entertainer.

My son took a guitar break and joined us for Nobby’s finger magic. Rosy, from the U.S. Embassy, joined us at eight that evening. She told us that the Afghan government had given the U.S. a year to close its embassy, but that the Indian Embassy had agreed to house a U.S. Legation on their embassy grounds.

Conditions in Kabul were rapidly coming to a head. On the last day of school, my son told me the night before that he was determined to get everything in. He got up early of his own accord, ate a quick breakfast and took a taxi to school.

He finished all his course work and handed it all in. His school record will be mailed to his school in New Jersey. After his classes were completed, he played basketball with some school chums, completing the school day with a baseball game in which he scored a homer and a run.

Kirk finally got his chance at the electric guitar (axe) after the scheduled band session broke up. He was in his glory playing for a group of girls jumping on the trampoline while he played. Then he took a taxi back to the hotel, played Frisbee and ended the day at the teen center.

My son invited me to see a film with him and that’s a first. They were showing
Mastermind
with Charles Bronson and Vincent Price, king of the grade B films. The film was a real “schlepper,” with Price as the misguided genius in his giant space ship. Price was determined to end war by dropping bombs on all warring nations. Why didn’t I think of that?

At the last minute, with Price about to press the bomb release, the hostages led by Bronson stop the bombing, allowing the warring nations to continue warring. While the plot and dialog seem written by five-year olds, Bronson’s charisma shines through in this ridiculous film. The kids in the theatre were jeering and providing sound effects throughout the film and that turned out to be the most entertaining part of the film.

Today was yet another holy day and foreign visitors were advised to stay off the streets and out of the bazaars during the military parade scheduled between two and five this afternoon. The parade route was posted a few days ago. The parade would march down Chari Sedarat in front of our hotel, Neptune’s Inn.

With increasing Soviet support, the Kabul government was venting its nationalistic voice. We heard that Chinese Embassy recognition was going to be withdrawn by the Afghan government and thought the Russians had instigated this. The Chinese would be permitted a Trade Mission at the Pakistan Embassy.

It turned out that other western embassies would continue unchanged. Mike told us that a thousand Cuban medical volunteers would add their optical skills to the new clinics. Afghans suffered greatly from eye ailments, especially cataracts, and this was going to be helpful as the Cuban medical community had gained a world-wide reputation for innovations in eye care.

The Cubans perfected a five-minute cataract removal procedure that was nearly 100% successful, or so they said. Cuban medics restored the sight of thousands of people in Africa and the Middle East. The Cubans made a video
Seeing the World with new Eyes
shown daily on Kabul TV.

One of Mike’s cousins, Hedayat, was in town with a beautiful array of embroidered tribal clothing. In particular, I believe the vests were the star attractions. These are in varied designs and reasonably priced. Below is a photo of a vest modeled by my neighbor’s son, Colin. These vests are in varying sizes and are popular with my women customers in the States.

I’m showing this vest as it became one of my best sellers. One reason this vest sold so well was that there were seams at the shoulders and arm-pits. The vests were easily disassembled in three parts and sewn onto simple shift dresses or tunic blouses. I wore a cream tunic with the vest sewn on at shows. In six months back in the States I sold over 500 of these vests.

Afghan Vests

Some of the light-weight silk festive dresses, shadries and scarfs had similar embroideries and were also quite popular. Hedayat’s clothing was like the ‘cherry-on-the-sundae’ for my business. I think it was my last major purchase before Afghanistan was closed to me.

Marxists say that when it comes time to hang all the capitalists, the capitalists will fight with each other for the right to sell the rope. I think they had me in mind when they said that. During my last days in Kabul, the thrill and fear of impending danger became real enough to touch it.

After the military parade my son had the urge to go horse-back riding on the same mountain that was so painful for him—as they say, ‘hair of the dog.’ Kirk would fly home tomorrow. Mike and Noor finally persuaded him not to go as it is far too dangerous, no kidding.

Mike said, “Believe me, you don’t want to find out what happens when Mongolian troops get angry and they’ve set up check-points at all approaches to Kabul. Travel security is now in the hands of the Soviet Mongolians. As Minister, I had to issue documents putting all ground travel under Soviet control; I had no choice in the matter.”

Early the next day, Noor appeared at the hotel leading two horses. He woke my son, telling him he got the appaloosa mare Lucy for him and that they could ride inside Kabul for a couple of hours. The riding was limited to a few streets around the hotel. There were Afghan soldiers on all street corners, smiling and waving to the early morning riders, who happily waved back.