Taverna du Liban, Kabul

 I like many expats have dined in the Taverna du Liban in Kabul, a mini haven of normality in the midst of so much confusion. You can read the reviews on Trip Advisor.
I remember going there with the ORA team in Kabul, and on many other occasions. Good food,  good company, good atmosphere....  
So it was a with a  real sense of shock that we heard of the suicide bombing and the death of 21 at the restaurant.  BBC's Lyse Douset also wrote a piece about Kamal,  the cafe owner who died trying to defend his restaurant.

An Afghan friend of mine, now living in the US wrote the following on Facbook - he used to be involved in running a coffee shop in Kabul himself .....

I stumbled across a tweet seconds after the cowardly attack on Taverna Du Liban restaurant this morning (night time in Kabul). My millisecond instinct reaction has taken me to ‘chaila’ days – fears like today (of what happened at Taverna) has robbed many nights with the question, threat and fear hanging on the back of my mind “what if they…”
As I was thinking about the horror of today’s atrocity, it took me back to the time we’ve decided for ‘chaila’ to remain in people’s memory than a physical reality.
Call it downheartedness of today’s event or nostalgia (already) of good ol' days, Taverna was a beautiful corner of Kabul with incredible hospitality and food. Last time I arrived to pick up a food order, I was early. I parked the car on the opposite corner of the restaurant and turned the car off to take a short nap (it was late evening). I opened my eyes with the sound of a knock-knock on the window - the guard asked if I was waiting for a guest inside to which I replied “no”. “I am here”, I said, “to pick up my order and I’m 30 minutes early”. “Go check inside… they might have it ready for you!” said the guard. I went inside paid the bill and while waiting for the food to come, Kamal brought me a glass of fresh pomegranate juice -- “Drink this while you are waiting, Sedi’i” and we both sat and chatted.

 I read that Kamal picked up his gun to defend his guests and died on the first few minutes of the firefight with these two cold-blooded Talib assailants. But there was also another gentleman who didn’t get a chance to defend his guests. His name was Kramuddin. He was 35 years old and father of five girls and one boy – the youngest 3 months old. His income was Afs 10,000 – roughly $170 per month and he was the sole breadwinner of the family. He was one of the guards at the entrance gate and died on the initial suicide attack. Most likely everyone who went to the Lebanese Restaurant saw him at the gate but may not know his name.

Once again, I’m speechless of what humans are capable of doing in the name of God.
A few days ago, I read a poem which resonates with what has happened today. It loosely translates to:

“They search for You in hundreds of colours
And in deceit and cunning
They seek You with spears in wars
In this place, they are looking for You in a rock
You give life, but here…
They take lives and call it your dictum!”

Nasruddin: Your way move forward

I am grateful to Seth at CMS for photo-shopping this picture of me, like Mulla Nasruddin riding a donkey backwards. He did it for my leaving card. The problem is that it looks far too authentic! Maybe its the shape of things to come!

I like the picture because of the plodding donkey carrying its heavy load with the speeding car in the background, blurred as it travels into the future (off to the right? or is the future the other way round in the East, to the left? Like the writing? )   Nasruddin has an eye on the future but is inextricably plodding back into the past at a much slower pace, leaving the bright lights of the shops behind.  And of course he doesn't know where he is going. He trusts his donkey to take him home..... 

  

Your Way Move Forward

I have been asked a number of times where I get my Nusruddin stories from. Well I bought my favourite book ‘Nasreddin Hodja’ in Turkey for about $10. This particular book has wonderful images.  An Amazon search will come up with the goods. click  HERE 

    

But I have also collected a number of other books In Turkish, Arabic, Urdu, Persian as well as English. I can’t read them all, but I do collect them (I’ve heard there is a video cartoon in Russian which I’m on the lookout for). And he goes under many names including Gohar, Hodja, Joha, Effengi, Mullana &/or Mullah Nusruddin. His stories have been related and embellished for centuries, from North Africa to China, from Siberia to Samarkand, in Caravanserai all along the Silk Route. There is something timeless about them.      

And if you can’t get hold of the book this website - seems to have electronic images of every page. Nasruddin would approve!

So why does he sit on his Donkey backwards?

Well I have heard at least four different explanations: 

One day, Nasruddin Hoca was riding home from the mosque on his donkey, and there was a large crowd behind him. Suddenly, he got off, and got on again backwards, facing the animal’s tail. The people naturally asked him what he was doing. 

He replied: ‘I thought about it, and decided to ride my donkey like this, because I have no time for disrespect. If you move ahead of me, then you will be turning your back on me. That would be terrible disrespect. If I go on ahead, I will be turning my back on you, and that is also quite unacceptable. This way, I can go on ahead of you and you can follow behind, and we can still keep looking at each other!  That is the logical way!’

Being respectful, is one of the essentials of entering another culture. facing people, being careful where we point our feet, not turning our back... Not wanting to be disrespectful in any way.

But there are other explanations …….
 

One day Nasruddin was riding his donkey backwards.
- Nasruddin  the people said, you are sitting on your donkey  backwards!
- No, he replied. It's not that I am sitting on the donkey backwards, the donkey is facing the wrong way.

I suppose it is easy to blame others and I certainly have a very stubborn streak in me that insists I am right even when the evidence might suggest otherwise .....

Or alternatively another version of the story 

- Nasruddin  the people said, you are sitting on your donkey  backwards!

- No, Nasruddin replied. My friend here wanted to go one way and I wanted to go the other, so we are compromising.

Compromise is after all, quintessentially English? Well maybe Turkish as well. Whatever culture it represents, compromise is necessary when more than one will is involved... 

Or perhaps my favourite response

 

- No, said Mulla Nasruddin. It's not that I am sitting on the donkey backwards, It's just that I'm more interested in where I am coming from more than where I am going, my friends.

I suppose I have always had an eye for the past, whether dabbling in a little genealogy, or watching a good historical movie (where people dress up in costumes and then kill each other!)

I also believe that 'meaning making' is retrospective. We only really work out what has been happening when we look behind and see the patterns ....  The rest of the time we are in the present, in the moment, trying to work out what is going on. 

 

The picture of yours truely standing in front of a poster of Ahmad Shah Masoud on at Kabul Airport, which is there to inspire people. ‘Your way move forward’ he suggests. 

The Maoris of New Zealand talk of the past being visible and therefore in front of us, whilst the future is hidden and therefore behind. So we should walk backwards into the future with the past in front of us…………… 

That, as Nasruddin would say, is the logical way!