mobilisations & details from the field

as part of the development programme for our physiotherapists we have wanted to encourage more active & manual methods of treatment. so, an australian physio has been here for almost a month to do a course on manual therapy (soso interesting & inspiring!), & we have for the past weeks been traveling a fair bit conducting training in taloqan, mazar-e sharif, jalalabad & kabul (can't go to ghazni, one of the regions where we have physios, because of deteriorated security).

here are some photos: a few scattered glimpses from the travels & a few from the training (only of the men unfortunately, can't post pictures of the ladies as this is a little sensitive).

tilework

we were back in mazar-e-sharif a couple weeks back, & going back to the shrine i honed in on some of the details of this beautiful construction. the tiling & the different shades of blue are really lovely, & compared with so many historical structures & sites that have been destroyed or worn with uncare & the passing of time, the condition of the shrine is truly remarkable.

the mother of all cities

so the arabs named balkh, this northern town which used to be a magnificent & powerful city. little remains to tell of this, & driving through present-day balkh you can just sense the shadows of its past glory, through the corner of your eye.

balkh was once a desirable region sought by the high & mighty: alexander the great, for example, praised the city, chosing it for his base for a few years & marrying a princess from the region. it hosted a variety of rich religious eras: zoroaster preached his beliefs a few hundred years BC; buddhist pilgrims flocked to worship at the many buddhist temples found in the region; islam entered with the arabs in the seventh century AD. it was also an intellectual centre, & many great persian writers & poets stem from the region, including rabi'a balkhi (see below).

tragically, as with many other places in afghanistan, denghis khan ravished the city in 1220, which marked the end of its glorious era. it did regain its foothold & slowly rose to some semblance of importance due to its strategic position. however, it was finally stripped of its capital status in the mid1800s after a series of particularly harsh outbreaks of cholera & malaria, & was replaced by the flourishing mazar-e-sharif, just 20 minutes down the road.

below are some pictures from this fascinating town:















rabi'a balkhi was the first woman of the islamic period to write poems in persian. her tale is tragic: she fell in love with a slave, & because of poems written to this lover she was cast in a dungeon to die by her brother. with blood from her slashed wrists she wrote her last poems on the walls of what became her grave. her tomb is now visited by girls & women who come to pray & seek inspiration for lovers problems.







the ancient walls which once protected balkh hint at the power that was; their crumbling remains now line the southern part of the town. climbing up the rise & onto these walls i soak in the marvelous view of the surrounding region of the balkh province, where the sun is setting over trees & fields just starting to prepare for the coming of spring.

orange statement

there are an assortment of burqas in the world of different styles & colours. due to diligent attentions from western media, i am assuming there are few who have never seen the afghan chadari. (& i will not delve into a discussion about the practice of hiding the female side of the population while the men roam free to do & look at whatever they please...)



the most common shroud through which ladies here meet the world is a lovely clear-sky blue. a few white ones break the blue monopoly, but i have seen very few black - or any other colour for that matter - burqas used. then, last week, when walking in the bazaar in mazar i saw a row of darkgreen, black, & (shock!) bright orange shrouds!



what a brilliant way of revolting against the system while still complying with the cultural norm: the whole impersonalising role of the burqa where ladies are grouped into an anonymous mass could be challenged by the bright orange that would stand out like a flashing light on a dark street.

i would love to see an orange burqa walking around!

the time inbetween

kabul has a 5th season: the Time of Mud.

after a few weeks of this sloshy state of status quo, it would seem the Cold has passed on for this year as well: longjohns, layers-upon-layers & hotwaterbottles are no longer of survival value, & the bukharis (local heaters) are no longer working overtime to keep some semblance of heat inside our rooms & offices.

so, the skies & the clear air tease with the promise of spring, and (novelty!) the other morning i heard little birds making a commendable effort to ward of winter (allow me to stray momentarily: birds are generally a rarity here, unless you go down bird-street in murad khani, the old city. a narrow man-crowded lane, adorned with an assortment of cages where all the absent birds from the skies seem to have been captured & squashed into rude mixed accommodations. in moments of frustration over the personal limitations forced on an independent spirit, i sympathise greatly... what worse crime of Freedom than to strip a bird of it's right to soar at will over the problems of this world... we are a cruel breed indeed to impose such restrictions).

but, do not be fooled! spring is weeks off yet. for a time still we will look up at the blue skies & the fantastic white mountains, while our feet tie us to the ground, slurping through the chocolatepudding glory of the kabul roads (this city, i might add, is the only one i know where city jeeps & fourwheeldrives can actually be considered legitimate...). i am again grateful for my rather masculine hikingboots (which award me continuous odd looks in this place where elegant afghan ladies elegantly navigate through the mud in their elegant highheeled shoes. i feel extremely unelegant) which do a fabulous job of keeping my feet warm & dry & clean.

& just watch. a sudden mercurial drop & a snowfall obliterating the sky will send us rushing back to sit huddling by the heaters. which isn't so bad, actually! an extension of the time which is perfect for meeting up with friends over countless cups of tea & coffee.

not bad at all.

the shrine in mazar-e-sharif

ghazni