As the plane door opens on the tarmac, dust fills my mouth. Parched from traveling and now from the dust, I exit the plane and enter the high Afghan capital.
The purpose of my trip is two parts. The first is to visit a college friend who is getting married and two, to report my experiences and the current situation. But as a bonus and after spending a couple of Ramadans in the Arab world, I am excited to see how it may be different over here.
When traveling one doesn’t need to fast but being stubborn I wanted to claim that I fasted every day from the first to the last. However my hunger and thirst aren’t the only things I would have to combat, I would also have to confront Afghanistan’s notorious hospitality. And the battle began once I met my friend, Noori, and his friend, Lutfallah, at the airport.
After taking me to my nondescript hotel and signing in, the receptionist at the counter offers me lunch in their restaurant, which my friends encourage me to take. Usually when offered food or drink I respond by saying “ana saiem or I am fasting.
But my words go right past them as they make their offer again. I quickly learn that declining food isn’t an option for a khawaga in Afghani culture, especially one who is traveling. Finally my persistence wins out as I keep gratefully declining.
But being tired, hungry and thirsty, I figure sleeping until iftar isn’t a crime, so I take a nap while Noori and Lutfallah buy some things.
As the sun begins to set over the mountains surrounding Kabul, we make our way to the older part of the city. Another friend of Noori’s, Fareed, invites us to his place for iftar.
Collapsed and burnt out buildings from decades of conflict still line parts of the road as we make our way to his house. As we pull up the sun finally dips behind the jagged skyline.
The women inside are finishing the preparations for tonight’s meal so we wait outside. As the adhan, call for prayer, echoes across the city, Noori hands me some water to break the fast but Lutfallah doesn’t take any.
Lutfallah is a Shia and explains whereas the Sunnis eat once the sun dips below the horizon, Shia wait until dusk.
Finally everything is prepared and we make our way inside. We enter a sitting room with cushions lining the perimeter and in the center, lays a feast of a variety of Afghan cuisine.
The main dish is a combination of fried rice, raisins, carrots and meat called kabuli. Accompanying it are some unrecognizable but delicious dishes. As for drinks, we are offered a staple of iftars around the world, Coke and Fanta.
The evening’s conversation revolves around the current situation in Afghanistan but since this a piece on Ramadan you’ll have to wait another time for that story. After dinner we move up to a second sitting lounge to drink tea and eat sweets. We play a popular card game from Kandahar known as Pika. After multiple rounds I am still not sure I know all the rules but nevertheless my team wins.
After the game we chat and drink copious amounts of green tea. But unlike the Arab world, most Afghanis don’t saturate theirs’ with sugar.
Finally with sohour a few hours away and a busy day of official business and traveling north, we decide to rest. Fareed suggests that we spend the night at his house since it is late and we could also eat Sohour with him in a few hours.
The long cushions in this sitting room are pulled to the center and laid out. We grab one and pick a spot before lying down and falling asleep. It doesn’t seem like I closed my eyes for a few minutes before the back of my eyelids are lit up with florescent light.
As I rolled off the cushion, the previous night’s dinner along with butter, milk and cheese lays before us. Parched from the high altitude, I drink a pitcher of water but in my haste to quench my thirst, I fill my stomach with water leaving no room for food.
After talking we return back to sleep just as the morning prayer begins in the distance. Unlike my first days of fasting in Sinai with the nightclub’s beats acting as a modern day musaharati, an explosion, which shakes the glass in the building, is the Afghani modern version.
But even with a war waging in the country, Afghanis look forward to the upcoming Eid and so do I. After celebrating Eid Al-Fitr in Egypt last year, I am excited to see what new things are in store.
But for the rest of you, thank you for following my journey this month and I hope you have a wonderful holiday. Kul sena wentom tayibeen.
