An Eid Celebration

Today is the first day of Eid ul-Fitr as I write this, the Muslim holiday that signifies then end of the holy month of Ramadan. Eid is an Arabic word that loosely translates to “festival,” and Fitr to “breaking a fast.”

Muslims do not consume food or drink from sunrise to sunset during Ramadan and then celebrate the end of fasting by inviting families and friends together for three days of celebration.

I was invited to an Eid celebration with the governor and local leaders this morning and it was the most joyful and happy event I’ve attended here in Afghanistan. The table was set for approximately 50 people and we laughed and talked for about an hour as we ate some wonderful food, listened to beautiful music and relaxed without a mention of anything other than life, God and families.

The celebration started as a rubab player – a type of lute common in Afghanistan – strummed traditional Afghan folk songs on his beautiful instrument. The rubab had a fret board inlaid with mother of pearl and a body made of dark mulberry wood. The body of the instrument was well worn but meticulously cared for by a professional musician.

As I listened to him play, his focus intent on the music, it was a joy to watch his hands dance to effortlessly across the instrument as he evoked the passion of one consumed by his art.

I sat next to the leader of agriculture for my province and he told me what the first few songs were about. The words, had there been a singer, would have told stories of harvest and rainfall, the blossoms of spring and the snows of winter, the joys of children and the beauty of Afghanistan. The music was tied to the earth, to the acknowledgement that sustenance comes from the earth and from God, and man is but a pawn on his board. 

We laughed as we talked about how much more relaxed Afghans were once they could break their fast, and we spoke fondly of our love for our respective countries. He is a man that is committed to playing a role in helping Afghans help themselves in order to be self-sustaining. Educated, intelligent and engaging, he is a leader whom people follow because they choose to, not because they have to.

Our conversation and our enjoyment of the music were accompanied by a delicious spread of Afghan specialties. We enjoyed a sweet tasting bread that reminded me of a honey infused, cake-like corn bread, dark yellow in color on the outside and light yellow on the inside. It was a bit denser than Carrie Lou’s light and fluffy cakes that I miss very much and had a granular texture like some corn breads that would melt in your mouth. The rich flavors would linger the palette and accompanied by a Sheer Chai, a traditional Afghan drink, the pungent tea balanced well with the sweetness of the bread.

The morning was beautiful, not too warm and a bright sun above, as we left the large dining room to continue the celebration outside on the lawn of the governor’s office.

Laughter and joy were obvious from most that were in attendance and it did not take long before the dancing began on the grass. The traditional Afghan dances have similarities to many other ethnic dances with jumping, spinning, clapping, and lots of body movements. One of my counterparts from USAID invited me (challenged me?) to join the dance on the lawn. It was difficult to learn at first. As I continued dancing, distinct patterns emerged and I looked slightly less the village idiot from the FOB.

We were soon laughing, spinning and clapping with many others in a circle as we danced to the sound of traditional Afghan drum. The tabla has animal skins on either side, one side is played with a large stick and is a lower, bass drum like sound while the other is played with a thin stick that produces a higher, more percussive pitch. The variation of sounds the musician was able to make with this instrument was astounding. We danced to two different tunes and musical patterns that had me dizzy from all the movement.

Soon the Afghans needed to continue their Eid festival in their own way and we started to depart. The governor went on to visit the sick and needy in the hospitals, the officials went to other charitable and village events, and most of the staff returned to their homes to visit and enjoy time with their families.

For three days, the government will be shut down and people will be celebrating. The danger hasn’t passed and our situational awareness returned to a high level of alert shortly after leaving the celebration. But for those few hours, I saw a side of Afghanistan I’ve been hoping to see. A people proud yet humble, who are joyful and engage me as a friend, not just soldier.

I truly hope I have more opportunities to be a part of this Afghanistan, the Afghanistan as it can be, as it should be.