 |
| Typical nomad family |
Afghanistan is a country that has many different people living within its boundaries. From the Mongol descendants of the north, to the Pashtuns in the south, to Nomads. Just as the sands on a beach change with the tides, the nomads are desert dwellers that travel all over the country with the changing of the seasons. Their main highway for travel is the north to south corridor between Kabul and Kandahar. While nomads are basically quiet and peaceful people, when it is needed they become fierce warriors ready to defend their family and country.
During the summer they can be found in great numbers in the north around Kabul. In the winter months they migrate to the south, to the great plains around the southern city of Kandahar, birthplace of the Taliban.
Just like their Afghan brethren, nomads are not ruled by a central government, instead preferring to be ruled by a local mullah (or religious leader) and tribal elders. While the rest of Afghans belong to an ethnic group, such as the Pashtuns, Hazaras, Durranis and are recognized as such, the nomads are struggling to be recognized as a group. During the loya jirga (tribal councils), they have had little if any input or votes.
Nomad women are easily recognized anywhere because of their colorful clothing and lack of face veils. While Afghan women must wear the traditional burka, nomad women are free from it and often bare their faces in public without fear of retribution.
Nomads travel in groups of 2 to 4 families together. Their possessions consist of nothing but camels, sheep and a ragtag tent made of pieces of whatever cloth they can find. The road from Kandahar to Kabul is approximately 500 km, taking a few weeks to cover on foot. Families will usually pitch a camp wherever the night catches them. Once their destination is reached, camps are usually erected on the outskirts of the city. Camps can reach up to 30 families. Very seldom will a nomad family pitch their tent within the city limit. The reason for this is that they are an extremely private group, guarding themselves against modernism. They live their life as they did hundreds, if not thousands, of years ago…spartan, austere and simple.
They are extremely difficult to get to know. One cannot just walk up to the first nomad one sees and strike up a conversation. Nor can one approach a tent or a camp and ask to talk to a nomad, it just does not work that way. One must be invited into their camp, which takes a lot of work. One must have a reason why.
I started by telling my translator, who personally knew a nomad family, that I wanted to photograph some nomads. He in turn went to them and told them, they refused. This went on back and forth for two months, until one day my translator told me they would allow me in, but no photographs at all, I was not even allowed to carry my trusty camera in.
Approaching the camp was very strange, everyone stopped working as I walked in and was eyeing me, kind of giving me the evil eye. We entered the tent and immediately were hit with an incredible ‘aroma’, personal hygiene is not high on their priority list. The inside of the tent was very sparse, just some mats on the floor in which to seat during the day and sleep at night. The center of the tent served as kitchen.
After offering a gift of sugar and coffee to the man of the house, he warmed up to me and started talking. He allowed only 30 minutes of his time, but in that short time I found nomads to be warm, loving, and extremely good hosts.
Trying to understand the nomads and control the conversation I tried to ask several leading questions which were mainly either ignored or not answered. Even in such a relaxed setting nomads cannot be controlled. However, over several cups of green tea, and at his leisure, Mohammed (the head of the household) informed me that what he, as well as most nomads, want is to be left alone to continue their life as it has always been. They really don’t care about Hollywood, TV, the US, Britain or even who their new president is; it just doesn’t have any relevance to them. In other words, they just want to continue being nomads.
Only one question did he answer: “what worries you now?” To which he responded that he is worried about the modernization of Afghanistan, all the service stations springing up along the roads. This modernization, he feels, will take over the sides of the roads, therefore pushing his migration route into the mountains, making it very difficult to travel and probably doubling the time it takes to reach their destination. Again he repeated to me that all he wants is to be left alone with his family.
As we said our goodbyes, I turned to Mohammed to shake his hand and saw this once proud warrior with tears running down his cheeks. As we embraced I told him, through my translator, that I for one wish him a long and happy life in his nomad ways. I told him never to surrender to the modernization that is sure to come, to keep to his ways.
Perhaps it is this exclusionism that has kept the nomads alive all these years. As long as there is an open desert, the nomad will continue to make his seasonal migration and survive.
During the summer they can be found in great numbers in the north around Kabul. In the winter months they migrate to the south, to the great plains around the southern city of Kandahar, birthplace of the Taliban.
Just like their Afghan brethren, nomads are not ruled by a central government, instead preferring to be ruled by a local mullah (or religious leader) and tribal elders. While the rest of Afghans belong to an ethnic group, such as the Pashtuns, Hazaras, Durranis and are recognized as such, the nomads are struggling to be recognized as a group. During the loya jirga (tribal councils), they have had little if any input or votes.
Nomad women are easily recognized anywhere because of their colorful clothing and lack of face veils. While Afghan women must wear the traditional burka, nomad women are free from it and often bare their faces in public without fear of retribution.
Nomads travel in groups of 2 to 4 families together. Their possessions consist of nothing but camels, sheep and a ragtag tent made of pieces of whatever cloth they can find. The road from Kandahar to Kabul is approximately 500 km, taking a few weeks to cover on foot. Families will usually pitch a camp wherever the night catches them. Once their destination is reached, camps are usually erected on the outskirts of the city. Camps can reach up to 30 families. Very seldom will a nomad family pitch their tent within the city limit. The reason for this is that they are an extremely private group, guarding themselves against modernism. They live their life as they did hundreds, if not thousands, of years ago…spartan, austere and simple.
They are extremely difficult to get to know. One cannot just walk up to the first nomad one sees and strike up a conversation. Nor can one approach a tent or a camp and ask to talk to a nomad, it just does not work that way. One must be invited into their camp, which takes a lot of work. One must have a reason why.
I started by telling my translator, who personally knew a nomad family, that I wanted to photograph some nomads. He in turn went to them and told them, they refused. This went on back and forth for two months, until one day my translator told me they would allow me in, but no photographs at all, I was not even allowed to carry my trusty camera in.
Approaching the camp was very strange, everyone stopped working as I walked in and was eyeing me, kind of giving me the evil eye. We entered the tent and immediately were hit with an incredible ‘aroma’, personal hygiene is not high on their priority list. The inside of the tent was very sparse, just some mats on the floor in which to seat during the day and sleep at night. The center of the tent served as kitchen.
After offering a gift of sugar and coffee to the man of the house, he warmed up to me and started talking. He allowed only 30 minutes of his time, but in that short time I found nomads to be warm, loving, and extremely good hosts.
Trying to understand the nomads and control the conversation I tried to ask several leading questions which were mainly either ignored or not answered. Even in such a relaxed setting nomads cannot be controlled. However, over several cups of green tea, and at his leisure, Mohammed (the head of the household) informed me that what he, as well as most nomads, want is to be left alone to continue their life as it has always been. They really don’t care about Hollywood, TV, the US, Britain or even who their new president is; it just doesn’t have any relevance to them. In other words, they just want to continue being nomads.
Only one question did he answer: “what worries you now?” To which he responded that he is worried about the modernization of Afghanistan, all the service stations springing up along the roads. This modernization, he feels, will take over the sides of the roads, therefore pushing his migration route into the mountains, making it very difficult to travel and probably doubling the time it takes to reach their destination. Again he repeated to me that all he wants is to be left alone with his family.
As we said our goodbyes, I turned to Mohammed to shake his hand and saw this once proud warrior with tears running down his cheeks. As we embraced I told him, through my translator, that I for one wish him a long and happy life in his nomad ways. I told him never to surrender to the modernization that is sure to come, to keep to his ways.
Perhaps it is this exclusionism that has kept the nomads alive all these years. As long as there is an open desert, the nomad will continue to make his seasonal migration and survive.
My favorite picture!!! :)
ReplyDelete"...nothing so liberalizes a man and expands the kindly instincts that nature put in him as travel and contact with many kinds of people." Mark Twain