The Afghans

I love that in Afghanistan, they call foreigners "ferengi". That is so Star Trek.

I also love the way Afghans put their right hand over their heart in greeting, like when one of the ministry drivers did when he said in his limited English, "You are welcome to Afghanistan." When they extend this kind of hospitality, the gesture and tone of voice come together in such genuine expression.

Another driver invited Douglas and I to his sister's wedding. But Douglas had to work that night so we didn't go. If it weren't inappropriate for me to go by myself, I think I might have gone. I'm just that way.

Yesterday, having no plans for the day, again, I settled down to read the Lonely Planet guide to Afghanistan. It says the Pashtun moral code is ingrained in every Afghan, taking precedence over any external laws. They live by siali - individual equality, nang - honour, and melmastia - hospitality.

The Afghan draws a strict distinction between private and public life but family is always the bedrock. Nang is central to his identity and women are seen as the symbol of family honour. Melmastia is hospitality to all visitors without expectation of reward. Now I remember Elizabeth telling me that of all the people she met in the Middle East, Afghans were the most hospitable.

When I see an older Afghan in a turban sitting in his shop hand weaving a carpet, I see contentment, kindness, pride, and honour on his face. I am drawn to these old men and want to sit with them and chat, but I don't. It would be inappropriate.

Despite my inability to get out and see more of Afghanistan, there is something about the people that intrigues me. It really has to do with how they treat guests, and how they take care of each other. For example, the guards in front of every house could just sit there and act bored. But they all greet me. The young guards at the U.N. compound always come across the street to help me cross back over when I get out of the car. Even children who try to sell me things say, Today I am your bodyguard.

Despite all that, corruption in the government is high. One young man Chris works with is 33. He earns a good salary at the ministry. But he supports half his village with his earnings. He supports his immediate family, parents, siblings and neighbours. He pays for teachers to come to his village twice a week so the girls can have some schooling. A job came up in the anti-corruption unit of the ministry. He applied and was told he was best qualified for the job, so if he could pay three officials a sum of money each, the job would be his. He had no money to pay. The job went to a relative of one of the officials. In the anti-corruption unit!

One young man Douglas works with is a graphic artist. He learned how to do that to earn a living. He too supports his extended family with his earnings. He told Douglas he really wants to be an accountant. So he attends university at night. He said, I work for my family, but I go to school for myself.

I notice sometimes that shop merchants look at and talk to Douglas but not me, even when they try to sell us women's clothing. I decided I wouldn't take offence, that it must be some kind of cultural habit. Lonely Planet tells me that is in fact the case. An Afghan would consider himself violating me and being disrespectful to Douglas if he looked and talked to me directly. In turn, I should not look at an Afghan directly either. Too late for that now. But the generous and hospitable Afghan makes allowances for social faux-pas for ferengis.

Out of respect for Afghan tradition, I have taken to covering my head when I go out, as rare as that is. I did that in rural India (though more to get shade from the sun), so no reason I can't do that here. Truth is, I quite like covering my head. I feel feminine and protected. I would even wear a burqa if Lonely Planet hadn't said that would be a disrespectful thing for a foreign woman to do. I have to settle for my faran.

The only Afghan women I have access to are the women who come to clean the room. They don't speak English but we still manage to exchange greetings and let each other know what we want. I don't get the feeling they are laughing at me, they seem so respectful and sincere. So unlike the Chinese who criticize and make fun of you to your face because they know you don't understand the language.

But I am sure corruption and economic hardhship are not the only dark side to Afghan life. I need to know more.