Conversations With An Afghan Teacher; Part 11

As I sat on roof of the underground-water-reservoir for the late afternoon tea, the main-gate of our house was knocked. (The roof of water reservoir was the coolest place in the house where we gathered to escape the heat of summer, drank green tea and talked till late in the night.) My younger brother answered the door.

“A spectacled man is asking for you.” He informed me.

In those days, the door knocked frequently. The boys were growing and so was the town.  Whenever, there was a vague description of the visitor, like a “spectacled man” instead of a name, it was understood the person is a new acquaintance. Just woken up from the siesta, I was sluggishly stood and went out to see the person.

“Salam Ustad.” I smiled to cover my laziness, tried to tidy my hair with my fingers and nervously shook my kameez  to make my appearance presentable, as I saw the “Afghan” teacher.  “Come in and join us for tea.”

“Salam” the teacher extended his arms and shook my hand. “Thank you for invitation. I hope I haven’t interrupted...”

“No, no.” I interrupted. “I am totally free.”

“I was on my way for a walk to bypass and thought to ask you, if would you like to join me?”

“Balay, balay Ustad. Let me wear my shoes.” (I wore slipper)

“Take your time.”

--------

“I am going for a walk with a friend and might come late.” I informed my mother and ran to the room to change.  (As I usually didn’t go out to spend time with friends, as it was the trend, and if I did, it was usually for a purpose, I got the permission without any further questioning).

“OK, make sure to return early.” All that my mother said.

And five minutes later, we were on our way towards bypass. We stopped by a fruit cart. Carts of vegetables and fruits were parked on both sides of the road. Elderly ladies inspected and bargained for the vegetables and fruits. Boys and girls hurried towards the coaching centers. The gap between the two generations were staged in the form of shopping for the dinner and going to the coaching centers, every late afternoon.

“Do you like oranges?” The teacher asked me.

“Since class third.”

“Since class third?”

“Yes, That’s when I first learned about scurvy disease and got obsessed to eat as many oranges as I could get.”

“I see.” The teacher smiled.

“I didn’t want to lose my teeth and hair….”

“That makes sense.” Said the teacher as he put the oranges into the pan of the weighing scale.

“And when I learned that smoking destroy the Vitamins, particularly Vitamin C in the body, I never touched cigarettes.” I boasted.

“Never smoked a cigarette?” He looked me into the eyes. “Not even out of curiosity?”

“Well.” I put an orange into weighing pan. “Just half a cigarette. It made me cough and worse, I couldn’t go home for hours fearing someone would smell cigarette. I didn’t want to get into trouble…”

“Which one was the stronger deterrence,  the fear of Vitamin C destruction or smell of cigarette?”

“Honestly, the smell of cigarette.?”

“It is my invitation and I am going to pay for the oranges.” The teacher stopped me when I tried to pay for the oranges. “You will pay for your invitations.” He continued.

“Agreed.”

Imagine a young man, whose total world experience was limited to a medium size city (I never liked large cities for living. Troubles in commuting and crowded apartments made feel uneasy. Till very recent, I thought, my preferences were weird in those respect, then, I met this young man and asked, if he had been to the New York city. “Binghamton is the largest city that I have been so far and the houses are too close that I don’t like.”, was his answer.), and he had witnessed a  town in  that city to grow from patches of orchards, randomly scattered houses and wilderness into a full size town. What he would talk mostly if he had met a new acquaintance?

We climbed a mound that was the highest point on the Western bypass. Down there, the city lied and smoked gasoline and diesel and puffed the smoke on the face of the surrounding mountains.  Close to us, few women sat around graves here  and recited fatiha, while their children played. Hazara Town graveyard had grown rapidly. For years, there were concerns that graveyard may fill up soon. All the efforts to acquire more land for the graveyard had failed so far. Every time, I saw the graveyard, the concerns for land shortage refreshed. There wasn’t much that I could do about it. Adjacent to the graveyard, there was a rough ground where boys played cricket (Years later, in 2011 terrorists attacked the boys and men who played cricket and soccer there). Next to the ground were walled orchards and vineyard. We sat on the mound facing the city. The shade of the Chiltan mountains advanced slowly as the sunlight retreated accordingly. The cool breeze of high and open area and the view of the city was surreal. The mound that we sat on was a recent Piedmont alluvial fan. For a while we sat silent and just gazed the city. Occasionally a fast truck disturbed the silence. I broke the silence and started talking about the history of plate tectonics that build the valley. All the way, I had talked about the growth of the town, the events that I thought were important and the fun that we had in those sans souci days of plays and fun, and now, I was imparting my newly gained knowledge of  introductory geology of the area. The teacher listened with occasional encouragements of single word, good.

“How old are those orchards?” The teacher asked me as he peeled an orange.

“I assume one and half a century based on the establishment of Quetta City by Britishers.” I replied after thinking awhile. “However, it is claimed that these orchards, the karez that irrigate them and the adjacent graveyard are five to six centuries old but as I don’t know of any research, the estimates and claims remain just so…” I added.

“As none of those trees including the mulberry and grape vines live more than a century, you might probably right.” He said. “Irrespective of the age of the orchards, I asked that question for a reason…” He added. Then, he paused and stared at the horizon, as if thinking about something.

I didn’t reply and waited for him to continue.

“Most of the times, we are so consumed by thinking out of the box that we forget what are in the box..”

“For example?” I interrupted.

“Like the orchards and the karez in front of us…” he put a slice of orange in his mouth. “It takes five to eight years for an apple tree to bear fruits. Just think the amount of the time and investments that go into an orchard to make it profitable. Now, compare the five to eight years to the five to twelve years that an olive tree take to mature and bear fruit….”

“We live on day to day basis, and I bet most of the families don’t have more than a week of supplies. Investing years without returns are really heavy investment…”

“Now think, if an orchard was attacked,  it would needed another five to eight years of peace for apple orchards and five to twelves years for olives to bear fruits. Although olives are evergreen and regenerate, they still need those lengthy years to mature…”

“Balay Ustad.”

“And the mud walls aren’t good protection for the orchards…” (Although the orchards were surrounded by mud walls, the mud walls weren’t maintained well and parts of it had collapsed.)

“No…” I laughed. “Kids and addicted guys trespass all the times.”

“Since ancient times, to protect their heavy investments, such as orchards and karez, the societies had developed social systems that avoided war and resolved the conflicts through dialogue and mediation…” he put another orange slice in his mouth.

Continued….

Conversations With An Afghan Teacher; Part 10

“There are concepts that you are in love with and find they aren’t perfect, you find a way to live with that fact. Open-mindedness is one of them. Unless you don’t feel strongly about something, you don’t think hard enough to find new ways…”

“Isn’t open-mindedness about throwing out the old concepts and accepting the new ones?” I interrupted. 

“Well,” the teacher fixed the glasses over his nose. His cheeks had grown red. We had stood for long in the sun and had talked for long. “We like to hear and talk about things in abstract, like adaptation, new concepts and change as they make us look good and don’t require explanation. But our minds are structured by our likes and dislikes, and we are condemned with strong desires to bend everything to fit our likes and dislikes than to change ourselves…” 

“But you can’t ignore the facts that humans are curious about new things and also the overall progress force the changes even on the very conservative ones, too?” I interrupted him again.” 

“Recently, I had an interesting observation.” The teacher smiled as he leaned on his left side. “I was invited to a Quran-Khawani (A dinner memorial. Participants recite a chapter of Quran and pray for the deceased person, and dinner is served.) in a neighbor's house. A mix of different age groups were present. I was about halfway into my chapter and some of the participants had already finished their chapters that a young man turned on TV, muted the voice. There was a cricket match. The boys changed their position and moved close to TV and whispered. A group of old men who finished their chapters started talking local politics. During dinner, a conversation, largely with an argumentative-tone broke. The old men complained that the boys disrespected the Quran-Khawani by turning on TV and watching cricket. One of the boys replied, if it was Sang-girag game (a traditional Hazaragi game), the old men hadn’t considered it disrespectful. And that reply ignited a fierce debate on cons and pros of cricket vs sang-girag…”

“Which group you supported?” 

“I was sympathetic with both sides?” the teacher smiled and leaned on his right side.

“How come?”

“Each sides were genuinely defending their likes and expressing their dislikes, and as I was aware of their heart feelings, I was sympathetic with both sides.” he paused to see my reaction.

I hadn’t anything to add.

“Our likes are indoctrinated at very early age. Although, our likes are malleable, the rate of change depends on our levels of exposures and the ability to become comfortable in expressing those likes. As the old men weren’t familiar with the rules of games, terminology of games and players of the games, the lack of those knowledge was a challenge to their status quo. The boys on other hand considered sang-girag a game that had fallen from grace long ago, and they didn’t see any advantage in recognizing themselves with the game…”

“Do you mean, we are open to the changes that strengthen our status in society or raise our status and we oppose to the changes that challenge our current status?”

“If you observe your neighborhood and notice the recent changes, you will find most of the changes are strongly correlated with expressions of social statuses.”

English language centers mushroomed with dawn of the new millennium. Learning english language became a cultural norm and the language centers grew into centers of cultural activities. Yamaha’s 70 CC motorcycles morphed from a vehicle of convenience in the crowded and narrow streets to a vehicle of show-boys for whom the streets were in large, worked as performing stages. Suzuki’s carry vans called band-dabba (closed boxes) became another social phenomenon. Housewives got obsessed with concrete houses. Most of those adaptations were sorts of forced changes due to globalization (telecommunication and digital revolution), the arrival of international coalition forces in neighboring Afghanistan and opening of new opportunities for the english speakers, migrations, narrow streets, politicization of public transport and denial of Hazaras for bus permits between their population enclaves of Hazara Town and Marri-Abad and lower costs of maintenance and protection, however, in a town that lacked public spaces for sublime expressions, houses, streets, and language centers worked as alternative platforms. 

Seeing me pondering, he added, “In the same Quran-Khawani, an elderly man compared the women of his generation and the girls of your generation. The old man complained that women of his time were happy with few pairs of clothes, and the girls of this age refuse to participate to any public event without a new dress for that particular occasion. I explained to the man that dresses and jewlries have become the expressions of social statuses. The old man disagreed. He interpreted it as moral downgrading of the society as general…”

“Let alone women, even children compare their dresses and throw a tantrum at home for the kinds of outfits like those of their friends and peers…”

“Right, right” the teacher laughed. “I face the protests of my children on regular basis. ‘It’s not fair.’ my eldest often son protests. ‘What’s not fair?’ When I ask him, he counts the new possession of his peers and ask, why he doesn’t own them. To him, justice is possessing the same stuffs or more than his peers.” the teacher laughed. 

“His concept of justice appeals to me, too.” I laughed. 

“When you enter a home, you see framed pictures on the display-shelf-walls. Those frames held either, the pictures of the loved ones, popular personalities (an expression of allegiance or ideological connection), great achievements (or celebrating the achievements), best moments of the lives, proud moments in history, something holy and something precious that express the identities, and social status.” added the teacher after a pause. 

“Balay Ustad.”

“Most of framed pictures belongs to the glorious pasts that people identify with.”

“Balay Ustad.”

“I heard that in Pohang University of Science and Technology of South Korea, the framed pictures of nobel prize winners are displayed on a wall. The last frame held the picture of a question mark as challenge to the students of the University.” the teacher looked at me with an obvious question mark on his face.

(The teacher mentioned about pictures of nobel laureates at POSTECH. I checked the POSTECH’s website to confirm it. I couldn’t find information about the wall with the pictures display. Instead, there are four busts of greatest physicists, Edison, Einstein, Maxwell, and Newton along two empty podiums for “Future Scientists of Korea (?)” and Nobel Garden, where Nobel laureates that visited POSTECH planted a tree in the garden.)

“That’s interesting idea, Ustad.” I could only utter those words.

“You are familiar with existentialism?”

“Balay Ustad.”

“I haven’t seen any framed question marks in any home or school or something like that. Have you?”

“No, Ustad.”

“We are photo-frame existentialist. Photo-frame-existentialist frame their passions, allegiances, possessions, potentials and dreams and all those things. Those displays are expressions of their status, or promotion of the statuses. And there are people who capitalize on their strong feelings and utilize them to frame their visions and challenges, and work passionately for them. Those are the futurists.”

“Balay Ustad.

“We usually call adaptations and welcoming of concepts, technologies and stuffs like that strengthen our social statuses as open-mindedness. That’s something common to all social groups, cultures and even animals. That’s not open-mindedness. To me, open-mindedness is your visions for your future and the levels of your open-mindedness depends on your visions. An open society constructs a culture that nourishes and shelters the niches of those futurists.”

“That’s really interesting.”

My young brother carried the thali of naans from tandoor (bakery). “Lalai (brother) Meal is ready.” said he.

“Ustad, please join us for a lunch.” I requested the teacher.

“Tashakor.” he put his right hand over his chest. “I have to go home. They must be worried about me, by now.”

Continued….

Conversations With An Afghan Teacher; Part 9

He was right. On Thursday evenings, trucks brought home some of the miners who spent the whole week working in the coal-mines. The men unloaded their coal sacs from trucks (as part of their pay) and sometimes sold some of them. When the area linked to natural gas supply lines, the trucks, the coal-miners and the coal sacs became very rare, if at all. Once a river (Proto-indus River) flowed and drained into an ocean (Neo-Tethys Ocean) in this region. Plate Tectonics closed the ocean and changed the course of the river. Now, instead of the ocean, there is Katawaz Basin and instead of river, there is Sulaiman Mountain Chain. Indus river irrigates an estimated 45 million acres and supports an estimated population of 300 million people along its course. Textile and sugar industries of the area are dependent on the harvests of the lands irrigated by Indus river. While Sulaiman mountains are memorial headstones of the late Neo-Tethys Ocean, her sisters, Mediterranean Sea, Caspian Sea, Aral Sea and Black Sea are still breathing life. Other the coal-mines and natural gas, there is very limited agricultural activities, no industry and very sparse population (very limited business). And that’s not all the story. What the active microplates of the region have for the people of the area? We can only guess. In 1935, the Quetta city was destroyed in an earthquake and from time to time, the plates remind people of their existence. For now, Katawaz and Helmand Basins’ chief productions are terrorism and opium, but there is hope that sometime in near future, the potential oil and gas reserves of those basins reward the people with peace and prosperity (or possibly with further wars for those resources). 

“Whenever, I think about rationality, I immediately think of 2600 years long history of Buddhist teaching, 2400 years of familiarity with Greek rationale minds (Philosophers), 2000 years of Christian , 1400 years of Islamic schoolings and about five centuries since Renaissance, and still there are no agreements on very basic things associated with humans. On contrary, we do all agree on mainstream scientific findings. And I ask myself, why is so?” the teacher fixed his glasses. “I mentioned all those names just to remind you that humans weren’t short of well-structured-thinking-tools and those tools were available for at least two millennia….”

“Sorry to interrupt, I want to ask a question before I forget?” I interrupted.

“Lotfan (Please)” the teacher paused, extended his right arm with opened palm and face up. 

“When you mentioned the two millennia long availability of structured-thinking-tools…”

“Balay” the teacher nodded.

“...it struck me that the philosophies and sciences or what you call structured-thinking-tools improve by contributions of each generation, while each person has to learn them from start as no one inherits those tools by birth. And that means each coming generation has to spent more of their times to learn and specialize those improved tools….”

“I wanted to walk you there through familiar paths.” the teacher smiled. 

“You know, I have learnt the hard way that people do perform best in the areas they are more familiar with and if you change the circumstances, it significantly impact their performances. My aim, here is not to teach you something but answer your question of why I preach that it is time to rethink our culture and why I think the culture should focus on making people feel better about themselves…”

“Balay Ustad.” I nodded.

“As you pointed out early,” he laughed, “people in each coming generation has to spend more time in learning. And as more better thinking-tools become available by each passing generation, I wanted to point out two things; one, When one learns something new, one is susceptible in making a lot of mistakes and two, the more sophisticated something is, the brain looks for more excuses to not learn it. And as you can figure out yourself, the learner is under triple pressures, to deal with embarrassments of mistakes, to constantly fight off the brains new excuses to stay on the track, and to be patient for longer time to get better off at things. The culture, we are currently practicing developed in times, when the lives were simple and the people had not to face these problems. Your generation is spending more time than ours and I expect the next generation will be under even more pressure…”

“You are right.” I couldn’t resist, not to jump in. “I constantly face the questions like,’ When I am going to finish my schooling and get started with real life from elders and I have difficulty explaining them why I am working and studying, and how studying is part of my work?”

“And those people think, if you aren’t making money full-time, you are missing something in your calculations, right?” he grinned. 

“Something like that.” I laughed.

“See, you have a perspective about continued work and study and there are some who disagree with you.It’s not just that the elders have difficulty agreeing with your perspective. They are just worried about you and want to be help you at the best of their knowledge. You can find plenty of people of your generation who have different life perspectives..”

“Balay Ustad.”

“That’s just an example of how humans don’t agree with each other. You are under pressure for something that the you parent’s generation had not to worry about.”

“By elders, I didn’t mean my parents, as neither of them asked me at any time to not pursue my dreams. Nonetheless, none of my parents went to school.” I explained.

“As your parents didn’t go to school, I guess, you had no home schooling?”

“No.”

“You children, like mine, might start learning at home even before their schooling age and you might teach them things that aren’t offered at school.”

“I think so.”

“You see, how the pressures and expectations sharply increase from one to another?”

“Balay Ustad.”

“Unlike facts, mistakes are considered stupid things. By the way, have you heard that once a former US President named Reagan's famous misquote John Adam.”

“No.” I answered.

“‘Facts are stupid things.’ he said, instead of ‘Facts are stubborn things.’?” 

“That happens.” I smiled.

“The fact is, mistakes are considered stupid and in our culture, it is encouraged to keep score-boards of mistakes. To avoid mistakes, our brains prefer to walk on simple structured, designed or well-paved paths and that’s why cultures encourages conformity and we as consumers seek validation and whenever the circumstances change, we get scared and undergo intense pressure...” The teacher explained. 

“I got you.” I interrupted him, “In order to encourage learning new things and trying new things, you want the culture should go soft on conformity and mistakes, so the new generation do not feel over-pressured?”

A boy jumped out of a store converted to a carpet-weaving workplace, and ran down barefoot on the road. He held a carpet-weaver-latch. Two boys followed him. The smaller boys came out and stood next to the store to watch the race, and laughed. The two boys caught the escapee, put him on the ground. One of the boys side-headlocked the escapee and dragged him back towards the store, while the second boy kept kicking him in the butt. Passersby laughed.

“That was just a small demonstration of non-compliance.” the teacher shook his head. “That’s partially what I wanted to say.” He resumed the conversation. “In addition to that, I want to point two more things. At times, when people follow a particular trend, things are clearer and the pressures of mistakes are fewer but when people are confused, the pressures are doubled and an encouraging environment greatly reduces the concerns. Even more important than that is, that we live in a time, when creativity is gaining more importance, and creativity thrive in an environment where error and trial and nonconformity are considered normal things. I want to remind you again that our culture like most of cultures around world is evolved to favor classism. The existence of class is reality but there should be people to check it regularly so they don’t deface the people. If you remember, I asked you the first time, we met, if Eids make you feel better?”

“Balay Ustad.”

“Unfortunately, our culture encourages us to keep a score-boards and race for higher scores that add to nothing. For example, if a young couple is marrying, both parties check other people’s scoreboards of spending, number of events and the exotic traditions and things they introduced and try their best to beat them, irrespective how much additional pressures those things might add to the new couple. The same thing is true about funerals, Eids, Ramadan, Muharram and other cultural things. That’s why, I call all those cultural activities as traditional-marketing-of-ego, not real culture….”

“Why culture is your prime focus instead of education system?” I thought that was a smart question to ask.

“I have come to conclusion that, very simple thing, such as, being open to positive criticism and to new possibilities play much larger role in making people more rational than just arranging classes of logic. There are vast variations in abilities of people to reason, still open-mindedness make people more inclined to go easy, when things they like conflict with reason. Again, let me repeat, people will not become open-minded just by preaching open-mindedness. People like to walk on familiar paths and as cultures provide a well-structured, very familiar paths or if you like very natural way that do not burden people with hard and dry thinking, the more open a culture becomes, the more people become open-minded...”

“Aren’t we already open-minded?” I interrupted again. 

Continued…

Conversations With An Afghan Teacher; Part 8

One of the ‘side-effects’ of talking to an older, more level-headed person is the loss of part of your enthusiasm. When the teacher reminded me that there was a super-creature called ‘reality’ who ruled ruthlessly over the world of actions, suddenly, like a ‘terrified cave-man’, I felt the presence of the invisible ‘super-creature’ everywhere. The super-creature tolerated thinking, imagining and believing whatever I wanted in the safety of my head but the moment, I expressed or put them into action, He took actions against the impractical ones. 

The teacher paused and narrowed his eyes.The wrinkles on the corners of his almond eyes and nose became more visible. Either he remembered something or struggled with some deep thoughts. I wanted to allow him some moments and looked around. Three teen boys sat on the front-step of the workshop adjacent to the flour store, whispered and giggled. It wasn’t appropriate to stand on the corner of street and talk like teen boys. But I didn’t want to invite him home, as I knew he would decline the offer and that would end our that day’s conversation. 

“What are you thinking about, Ustad?”

“Nothing important.” he fixed his glasses over his nose, something he did when he wanted to concentrate. “As you are a curious young man, I thought to share some of my observations…”

“Balay Ustad.”

“I don’t know if you have noticed an illusions that have become popular among our people….” I got alerted. I wanted to know, if I shared that illusion “...I met a number of people who recently adopted the surnames, like Changizi, Mongol, Ilkhani, Chughtai and like that. Choosing a name is a personal choice and I have no rights to object on that. What I want to point out is the mindset behind those names. They have developed this illusion that, unless a people don’t have a great history, they can’t become great people, or more precisely, unless, you don’t have a proud history, you can’t have a bright future. My problem with this mindset is that, it encourages to look at history the way we like it to be, instead it really was. You can’t force your liking on reality, instead, learn to like the reality. Titles, slogans, badges, etc only confuse our youths, nothing more. ”

“Balay Ustad.” I said in low voice. Actually, influenced by the trend, once I thought to adopt the surname Changizi but then after long conversations with my grand uncle, I abandoned the idea. My grand uncle had the similar views, that if you you weren’t cool with your situation and instead of earning pride, you wanted to borrow it, you were under strong influence of a delusion. 

“And I met people who believed unless, you get rid of your past and become from hair to toe, in and out, identical to a western person, you couldn’t be an enlightened person.They have this illusion that everything have already been worked out , and if we just follow the West, all our problems will be solved. Period. That’s exactly like the mindset of Salafists who believe, if Muslims implement the Islamic laws as they were practiced during Prophet and His caliphs, all their problems will be solved by themselves.The reality is that Science and Technology are common and work everywhere the same but when it comes to the human societies, each society has its own personality and has to go through its own developmental stages.If I expect all my students perform the same at my class because they get the same instructions, in the same environment, I will get disappointed by the results….”

In those days, I was an ultra-idealist person. I started thinking of a “possible” future utopian world that I called “elysium”. I thought, Science will continue to increase our understanding and technological advances will help us solve all the problems. There will no illness, no shortage of food, no psychological, social and economical problem and so on. Everyday I read news about new breakthroughs which solved this and that problem and they were all pointing to the possibility of the elysium. Besides, the pursuit of the Master degree gave me a sense of mastery of the world affairs and I had no doubt that my “prediction” will come true. Certainly, I will not be there to see the elysium but I could enjoy imagining it. Then, this teacher that I didn’t know anything about his educational background tore down my “elysium” by pointing the human element that was missing in my prediction. When the teacher said, each society has its own personality, I couldn’t help myself but to interrupt him, 

“Don’t you think, if people become increasingly rational, over time, they will come to similar conclusions and ultimately, they will become identical?” 

“What’s your field of study?” asked the teacher.

“Geology.” I replied.

“Good.” his face radiated with a warm smile “So you know the forces that drive the continental plates are the same all over the world, right?”

“Balay Ustad.” I nodded.

“But the history of Sulaiman mountain chains are different than the history of Ural mountains, right?”

“Balay Ustad.”

“Okay, Genetic inheritance works the same all over the world, half of the chromosomes are inherited from mother and other half from father, right?”

“Balay Ustad.”

“Then, why are we different from Indonesians, for example?”

“Our genes and Indonesians genes had different mutation histories.” Based on his previous arguments, I guessed the kind of answer he wanted to hear.

“Good.” he smiled and fixed his glasses again. “As genes carry information about our physical make-ups and determine the physical appearances and the diseases of next generations to a large extent, likewise, the cultures carry information about our ethics, values, fears, worldviews and things like that and they determine to a large extent the worldviews of the next generations. As different mutation histories result in different genetic makeups, similarly, different cultural mutations histories result in different cultural makeups….”

“But humans are rational animals and they can fix cultural practices that are stupid.” I interrupted.

“Of course, humans can change, and we both are exchanging views to recognize some of our stupidities.” he looked at his wrist watch.

“You must have some work or have to take your lunch or something?” he inquired.

“No, no, Ustad, I’m free afternoons.”

“OK, I very like to talk something about the relation of rationality to stupidity…”

Continued…. 

Part ; 7

Conversations With An Afghan Teacher: Part 7

He took a pause and looked at me. I guess, he wanted to make sure that I followed him. At least that was, how I felt. My feeling wasn’t baseless. It was a common habit of all the teachers that I encountered; when they had to explain something of importance, difficult or spoke for long, they paused and asked, if they were followed. 

“Interesting!” I replied.

We were close to our street. On the main road a large truck with all those showy decorations (my uncle called them shrines) blocked the road for vehicles. Only pedestrians, bicyclists and motorcyclists could pass through the space between the truck and the wall. Two laborers unloaded the hundred kilograms sacs of flours off the truck on their backs. Usually, It took three of us (my father and two of his sons) to pull one of those flour sacks on a wheelbarrow from the store to home. The one who pulled the wheelbarrow definitely expected appreciation as if he had accomplished a difficult task. 

It was dismissal time of the schools (and the beginning of second shifts in some schools). The street was full of students. Some of the female students wore scarves, some dupatta, some shawls and some chadar. Male students dressed in traditional shalwar-kameez and some in pants and dress shirts. It was just another school day. Students walked in both directions, in groups, chattering and laughing. 

Our conversation hadn’t finished and I didn’t want to say goodbye to the teacher without knowing why he wanted a culture that helped people to feel better about themselves. We stopped at the street corner and continued our conversation.

“I highlighted some important historical events just to bring you where we both stand.” There wasn’t anything extra-ordinary about where we stood. Our town was a poor, neglected town in a poor, neglected province of a third world country that struggled with messy multi-level, local and regional conflicts. While even our houses hadn’t postal addresses, how could I believe that we were moving along the events of our time? I felt we were just following the trails that others had already walked. And our disagreements were on what trail take to reach a better place? 

“Have you noticed that most of the students wear dresses that are different from what their parents wear?

“That’s obvious. Parents aren’t expected to wear uniforms of their children?” I tried to crack a joke but the teacher didn’t laugh. That was a bad joke.

“Whenever I see all these different uniforms, they fill me with hope. Those uniforms represent different visions for the future. They remind me that the parents have many choices for education of their children and which school system will attract most students will depend on how their students will perform. It also shows the openness of our people….”

“But don’t you think that these variations may divide our people?” I interrupted.

“I understand your concern.” The teacher answered. “And you are not alone in that regard. Remember, I counted a number of recent failures just to illustrate that we live in uncertain times, and in uncertain times, it is not safe ‘to put all your eggs in one basket’. It is a tested prescription from ancient times, that the more diverse your assets are, the minimum is the risk of your losses. And our children our real assets. Aren’t they?”

“Balay Ustad.” I nodded. “I get your point about modern schools but what about religious institutions? Do you think, they still have usage in our time?”

He smiled. “Instead of yes or no answer, let me put your question in its context and then let you finalize the conclusion.”

“Balay Ustad.”

“ Have you heard this quote, “religion is the opium of masses”?”

“Yeah, I hear it frequently and I assume that it is a darling quote for some of my friends.” I laughed.

“Let me tell you this.” he adjusted his glasses. “Don’t think that I am a mullah or intend to replace mullahs....” and rubbed his “belly”. 

“I know that.” I interrupted to assure him that I believed him. In those times, it was a growing trend to look at religious people as stupids. To avoid the embarrassment of being considered as stupids, the learned individuals, either didn’t mention religion at all, or if they mentioned, they quickly clarified that they are not religious at all. Contrary to individuals who were filled with the air of intellect, the teacher didn’t exhibit any arrogance of understanding or intellect. He just behaved like a teacher, offered his shoulders for the curious ones to climb and see the other side of the walls, still, I wanted to assure him that I didn’t think of him as a “stupid” person.

“... Despite of my deepest desires to look at everything with pure reason, over time, I have learnt to distinguish between ideas that look reasonable and those that are actually practical. For example, in the months of Ramadan and Muharram, my friends remind me now and then, that ‘religion is the opium of masses’ and count all those money, time and skills wasted on those occasions that could otherwise go into building schools, hospitals, roads and other positive things. I do agree with them. One doesn’t need to be Socrates to agree with them. But then, I see the massive consumption of tea, coffee, cigarettes, snuffs, hookahs, opium, painkillers, hallucinogens, alcoholic beverages, and those are the list of things that I know. From time to time, I hear the names of new compounds that are even more potent, and like any other field, I can only expect for more dangerous stuffs…” he paused again to readjust his glasses. 

“Yes Ustad.” I nodded. Unlike our first conversation, this time, he was in mood of explaining things in detail and I wanted him to continue. 

“... And you know all those stuffs are consumed on such massive scales that an entire world of subcultures and dark economies have developed. In a realistic sense, that is the real “opium of masses...”.

“Yes Ustad.” I got his point. I wanted to ask if he was defending one “opium” against another but I let him finished his point. 

“....When I see the popularity of both religion and other stuffs as long back as I can track the history and across the cultures, I have no other choice but to conclude that, the masses need opium or even sometimes, I inclined to think, humans in general are addicted for need of some sort of addiction. You don’t allow them a “spiritual opium” or religions, they will turn to the “material opium”. 

“Ustad, In that sense, movies, songs and video-games (social media, esp, Facebook wasn’t that common in those days) are also opium of masses.”

“Oh, Yes. I forgot to mention them…” he laughed. “Again, my aim is not to favor one thing over another. I want to distinguish between practicality and reason.” 

“Balay (yes) Ustad. Balay Ustad.” I repeated to assure him that I followed him.

“You know, why I’m so obsessed with distinguishing between practicality and reasoning?”

“From your personal experience, I guess.” I threw a stone in the dark. 

“From witnessing the collapse of Soviet Union. For a large part of my youth, I believed the Soviet Union, with all her brilliant scientists, engineers, economists, social scientists, and public servants is the beacon of practical reasoning. But then, I witnessed her collapsing under the enormous weight of the plunders and scattering into daughter-states. Her daughter states are still struggling to come in terms with the realities of the wider world. I used to have a teacher who told us that engineers are the most logical people. If an engineer constructs a building of his liking and ignores reality, the reality will soon deconstruct his building into a lump of concrete, steel and glass. I don’t doubt that Soviets had the best engineers but they constructed a super-state of their liking ignoring the reality and as my teacher used to say, the reality deconstructed their darling super-state. Religious institutions have been part of our society for centuries and they are still standing and that indicate that they are still having some usage, otherwise, they were long deconstructed….”

“Ustad, but we also have seen the spread of hatred and destruction by the promotions of religious institutions?”

“That’s right. As I said, if you construct a building of your liking ignoring reality, the reality will deconstruct it. As you know better than me that, the States opposed Soviet Union worked as a together as a team for over two decades to turn the religious institutions from places of spiritual services to places of training and recruiting militants to counter the expansion of Soviet Union and the rival states. The ongoing war on terror is the biggest evidence that it was a very bad engineering, and the world has to pay the costs deconstruction and of fallout for a long time.” 2 

Continued…. 

Footnote,

2. Since, at the time of conversation, there was no sign of Arab Spring and the following Arab Winter, I have to add a footnote here. It seems, despite the earlier failures, there are some countries, for whom, turning religious institutions into factories of militancy are still more beneficial than the costs of resulting destruction. The benefits to costs ratio may be higher for now but as we have seen it in Pakistan, those rations will finally start to change, and they will have to pay the overdue costs of dealing with the destruction, the militants and the mindsets for a long time.