MANNERS AND CUSTOMS
Belief in the supernatural—Dress of men—Complexion—Character
of people—Description of various tribes—Languages and
schools—Feuds between families—How holidays are spent by the
people—Singing and musical instruments—Games and amusements.
Speaking generally, there is much in the daily life and customs of the
Afghans that reminds one of England some three hundred years ago as
depicted in books and histories, such as their superstitions, their
treatment of sick persons by barber surgeons and leech wives, their
belief in ghosts, devils, and fairies, in fortune-tellers, in people with
the evil eye, in the astrologers who cast their horoscopes, and their
fervent belief generally in the supernatural. In many other particulars
also they resemble the old English, but in character they differ
considerably.
The dress of the country is of course the Afghan costume, which consists
of tombons or loose pyjama trousers made of many yards of cotton material
which hang in folds from the hips, round which they are tied with a
pyjama string, a plain shirt which is worn outside the tombons, and over
the shirt an armless coat (very much like a waistcoat) which is usually
worn unbuttoned; a large sheet of calico is worn loosely round the neck
like a shawl with one end carelessly thrown over the shoulder. The turban
is the conical fez, with lungi wrapped tightly round it over the head,
and the shoes more resemble slippers in shape, they are very heavy and
studded with nails while the toes curl up over the foot. Stockings or
socks are only worn by the well-to-do people.
Officials and those attached to the court, together with officers of the
army, wear the English style of clothes, those attached to the court
having long frock-coats similar to the Turkish, and wear fez of black
cloth which are straight, instead of sloping up to the crown like the
ordinary Turkish fez. Officers of the army wear uniforms fashioned after
the style of the English army with flat peaked caps of the German pattern.
The soldiers are dressed variously, some wearing the Afghan tombons and
others English trousers, or white cotton pants cut in the same style, but
all have English pattern tunics or coats, and a leather belt carrying
pouches strapped round the body. For head-dress, some wear the usual
turban and some flat peaked caps. Soldiers may, in fact, dress as they
like or can, except on review days, when their uniform (they have but
one) must be worn. The soldiers of the Amir’s bodyguard have uniforms
for everyday wear, and all are dressed and armed in the same style.
Most of the people who possess a horse wear long Russian boots with high
heels, which give a perched up appearance to the legs; but whatever style
of dress may be worn there is always a leather belt strapped round the
body, in which knives and revolvers are carried, provided the man is
fortunate enough to possess a revolver. Merchants who travel up and down
between Kabul and India buy up stocks of old uniforms; these are much
prized by the poorer Kabulis, for they wear well and are cheap, so that
one sees all sorts of British regimental tunics, besides those of the
police and railways, and it looks strange to see a man walking along the
street with the letters “S. E. Ry,” or those of another railway company
on his collar, so many miles away from the place where it was first
worn. Generally the Kabuli wears clothes made after the English fashion,
and those who cannot afford a good sort of material for their dress do
the best they can, and are to be seen with the tombons and shoes of the
Afghan, and an English coat, or a suit cut in the English style, and
Afghan shoes, and no socks or stockings. When I speak of the English coat
or trousers, I do not mean that the clothes are English made, for the
bazar tailors are clever enough to imitate the English style sufficiently
well to satisfy their patrons, and the tailor who can cut clothes to fit
well is in great demand, and soon becomes a well-to-do person.
In complexion the people vary considerably, some being very dark skinned,
and others as fair as Europeans. Those with dark skins are, as a rule,
Kabulis who have no objection to marrying the women of southern nations,
but the true Afghans from the hills are very fair, and often with
light-coloured hair, and as they despise women of other nations they
seldom marry any but those of their own people. In many of the Afghans
red cheeks give a greater impression of fairness. Usually the hair is
black, and hangs straight and lank, and men whose hair and beard go grey
from old age or other reasons, but who feel young enough to take other
wives to themselves—for they marry as many as they can support—dye their
hair and beard a deep black, but as the dye is not permanent it has to be
frequently renewed; otherwise it fades, and the hair and beard become a
dirty red and look very unprepossessing. This is often seen in men whose
continued duty, or journey to some distant place, prevents them seeking
the services of their hairdresser, who is usually one of the women of
the household. It is only very old men indeed who are seen in Kabul
with grey hair and beards, for personal vanity is one of the leading
characteristics of the Afghan, and this influences him to spend more
than he ought on dress in order to appear well, the food for himself and
family being of diminished quantity in consequence, very often, indeed,
near to starvation point. I have known well-dressed men who lived chiefly
on dry bread, and not too much of that, in order to save the bulk of
their income for new clothes.
It has been said that the Afghans are the Lost Tribes of Israel, and
there is much in the appearance of the true Afghan to support this
theory, and in character and name also. The hooked nose, deep-sunk
piercing eyes, and general features are distinctly Jewish, while those
who have had business relations with the Afghans will vouch for the
character, and then the names, Suleiman, Yakoob, Yusef, Daood (Solomon,
Jacob, Joseph, David), etc., are common names. Some mountains in the
country also have Jewish names, such as the Koh-i-Suleiman, so that one
is inclined to think that if they are not the Lost Tribes, they must be
of Jewish origin.
The Kabulis are hybrid creatures, compounded of many races, and generally
having the worst characteristics of each. In complexion they vary
considerably, but, as a whole, are fair as compared with the Hindustanis,
and some have grey and blue eyes and light hair. Among them are those of
villainous countenance, and others just as handsome, both in face and
form. They are generally short of stature, as compared with the Afghans,
who are tall and well-built men; but the conditions of life among the
hillmen are such that the weakly die young, and it is a case of the
survival of the fittest, which, so far as the physical effect on the race
is concerned, is worthy of emulation by other races.
The Kandaharis are also a good type of Afghan, and are mostly strong
well-built men. Grey and blue eyes are common amongst them, as with
the Kabulis; but whether this is natural to them or the result of the
English occupation of the country on two occasions many years ago, is
problematical.
The people of Turkestan and the Usbegs are rather Mongolian in feature,
the type being in some more pronounced than others. The Hazaras, whom
Amir Abdur Rahman brought into subjection, are decidedly Mongolian in
feature, and are mostly short, squat, strongly built people.
Another race the late Amir subjugated, the Kafris, are entirely distinct
from the other races of the country. They are generally very fair
complexioned, and have light-coloured eyes. They are not tall, and
are slimly yet symmetrically built. In many cases their features are
Grecian in type, and it is quite conceivable that they are, as has been
suggested, the descendants of the garrisons Alexander the Great left in
the country on his historic march to India. They were idolators until the
Amir took them in hand and converted them by fire and sword, and they
have little love for their new masters. They are quick and intelligent,
and make good workmen.
The language of the country is Pushtoo, which is general among the people
from Peshawar to Kandahar. The Turkestanis use the Turki language,
and the Kafris have a language of their own, which latter might form
an interesting study for those who are acquainted with the old Greek
language. All people of any consequence speak Persian, which is the
court language, and the language used in Kabul itself, for very few of
the Kabulis are able to speak Pushtoo, and with a knowledge of Persian
one can get on anywhere in the country, but it is less common among the
frontier tribes than elsewhere.
Persian is the language taught in the schools, which the children
attend from early morning until about ten o’clock, and again in the
late afternoon for a couple of hours. In these schools the master,
usually a moullah, sits on a carpet in the centre of the room with
the children in a circle round him, sitting cross-legged, with their
books on their knees, and reading aloud in a sing-song manner, while
rocking their bodies backwards and forwards. This rocking the body to
and fro while reading becomes such a habit that in after life very few
men can read anything without doing it, and their voices take on the
sing-song intonation of the school. For the chastisement of the unruly
and stupid, the master has a pliable rod by him. There is no sparing the
rod and spoiling the child, and when the master wishes to punish one of
them, the small offender is held on his back, with his legs up in the
air, and receives so many cuts on the soles of his feet, and while the
punishment lasts he howls piteously. Sometimes in passing by a school I
have stopped, thinking a child was surely being murdered, until I saw the
reason why the boy was howling, and my standing to watch generally had
the effect of stopping the child’s noise, for the “Feringhee” is one of
the names used to frighten children with. One end of the room in which
school is held has no wall, and is open on the side facing the road, so
there is nothing to prevent one watching the school children at work.
Children are also taught in the school to read the old Arabic, in order
that they may read the Koran, but while there are many men who can read
Arabic, there are few who understand it, and fewer still, if any, who
can speak it as a language. Many can recite passages from the Koran as a
parrot would do, and some, who are thereby called Hafiz, can recite it
from memory from beginning to end.
In character the people are idle, luxurious, and sensual, which
characteristics become prominent as soon as a man possesses power or
money (almost synonymous terms in Afghanistan). They are capricious and
ungrateful, and turn easily in their likes and dislikes, and are readily
led to turn against those to whom they owe gratitude. Usually, when they
want anything, they want it at once, and should their desire be delayed
for any time, they no longer want it. They are lying, treacherous, and
vengeful, and one who has a grudge or enmity against another will not
show it openly, but conceals his feelings and feigns friendship, while
waiting the opportunity for vengeance, and in the execution of their
vengeance they are capable of unheard-of cruelties. They are readily
ruled by fear, but are apt to brood over small grievances until they
convince themselves that they are most cruelly treated, and then their
feelings may result in a fit of Berserk rage, under the influence of
which they lose control of themselves and take vengeance violently, often
stabbing and hacking at their victim long after life is extinct. They
are cruel and insensible to the pain of others, often laughing at it,
and, except in the case of a relative, will seldom go out of their way to
relieve suffering.
Towards their children they are too kind, and spoil them while they
are young, denying them nothing which it is possible to give them, and
dressing them in gaudy clothes while they themselves go ragged. They make
no attempt to correct them for any wrong-doing, laughing at it rather as
a sign of precociousness, and among the Kabulis it is a common thing for
a little child to be able to curse fluently, and their curses are often
directed at their parents. This neglect in training the young properly
accounts for much that is objectionable in the character of the people.
It is not until children are seven or eight years old that they begin to
correct them, but a good deal of the character of a child is at that age
already formed.
The Afghans are for ever scheming one against another, family against
family, official against official, farmer against farmer, workman against
workman, and wife against wife—the latter being, naturally, one of the
evils which arise from the custom of plurality of wives. The result of
all this scheming is often a quarrel which ends in a fight, in which one
or other of the parties may be killed; they do not always use knife or
bullet for the purpose, they have other ways too of ridding themselves of
an enemy.
In the cities, when a man commits murder, he is taken charge of and
judged by the authorities, but in the country it often results in a
feud between the two families, which is carried on for generations, the
murderer being waited for by the relatives of the man whom he killed, and
killed in turn; the slayer in this case also being eventually slain by a
member of the opposite party, and so the feud goes on for many years.
Illustrating the vengeful character of the people, I may mention the
case of a man who killed another and escaped to his own house or fort,
as it is called by them, each house being in the nature of a stronghold.
Here he stayed for some thirty years, without venturing to put his
foot outside the house; but at the end of that time, supposing the
watchfulness of his enemies had slackened, he went out one day, and was
carried back dead. The vengeance of the relatives of the man he had
killed had not slumbered, neither had their watchfulness. It is said that
revenge is sweet, but it seems to have an added sweetness to these people.
There is a law among the people that a man who has been apprehended
by the authorities for murder, may be claimed by the murdered man’s
relatives to execute or forgive as they wish. The relatives may then
accept so much blood-money as compensation, or may kill the man in any
way they like. Sometimes the haggling among the relatives about accepting
the blood-money offered by the murderer and his friends, some being
in favour of accepting the money, and others in favour of death, is
continued even under the scaffold, where the condemned one stands ready
pinioned, and with the rope round his neck, and after, perhaps, an hour
or so of wrangling, it ends in the decision that the man must suffer
death, and then the rope is seized and the man hauled up. The feelings of
the man during the altercation in such cases must be unenviable.
Another case which further shows the vengeful character of the people is
that of a man who murdered a boy, and was handed over to the relatives
for execution or forgiveness. The mother of the boy resisted those in
favour of blood-money, and insisted on the man’s throat being cut, as
he cut her son’s, and when this was done, she, in the frenzy of her
vengeance, actually drank the blood as it flowed from the man’s throat.
The amusements of the people are simple, and would lead one to suppose
them rather simple-minded, if one did not know them. For instance, in the
early evening, when work is over, the people will flock in summer-time
to the public garden, where plots are laid out with flowers, each plot
having one kind of flower only, carrying with them their singing-birds
in cages, and will sit round these plots until nightfall, contentedly
enjoying the scent of the flowers and the cool evening breeze. They sit
there quietly, and for the most part silently, and there is no noise
beyond the pit-pat of the slippers of those going and coming on the
garden paths. At one or two corners of the garden walks are tea-sellers,
with a little crowd of people squatting round drinking tea out of the
small handleless cups commonly used, and taking a pull at the chillum
(pipe similar to a hookah) now and then.
On Fridays (the Sundays of the Mussulmans), and on holidays, many people
go off walking or on horse or donkey, when, in many cases, they ride
two together on one animal, and sometimes three, to the gardens in the
country, taking food and cooking-pots with them; and there they will
wander round the gardens until midday, content to be amongst the trees
and flowers. Then they cook their food, and after eating that, they lie
about and chat, or doze the afternoon away, and when evening begins to
gather, they get their belongings together, and start off home again,
having had a glorious day’s outing, according to their own statement.
They are easy to please in this way, and anything which brings them fresh
air, sunlight, flowers, and grass or trees, and no worry or duty, and,
if possible, a little to eat and drink while enjoying it all, is a day’s
tamasha to be talked over and retailed to others, and dreamt about until
the next opportunity comes.
When other means of amusement fail, they sit together on the roof of
the house, or in some quiet spot near by, where there may be a tree to
shade them, and one of them plays the rubarb, which is something like a
mandoline, and sings Persian love-songs. Out of half a dozen men there is
usually one who can play and sing, and their songs sound best at a little
distance, for if close by the nasal intonation is not prepossessing,
while the contortions of the mouth and face in bringing out the tremulous
and prolonged high notes rather fascinate one, and the song is forgotten
in watching them and waiting for the breakdown, which seems momentarily
imminent. There are others of their stringed instruments which resemble
the banjo in shape, but all are called “rubarb.” The music has little
change about it, and differs from ours in not being composed of different
airs, but in being of bars of four to six beats, which are repeated over
and over again. It sounds very monotonous, and is a little trying, until
one gets used to it, and then, on a still summer evening, the rubarb in
the distance has rather a soothing sound in its monotony, if one happens
to be reclining in an easy-chair, smoking and resting after dinner. But
if one is busy writing, or is absorbed in calculations, or anything of
that sort, the monotony of the sound is very trying, and produces a
desire to make a change at any cost, even if a shot-gun is necessary to
effect it.
The people are like the rest of the Orientals, and do not look upon
exercise in any form as an amusement, and therefore, are not in the
habit of dancing as a means of recreation and pleasure, but they have,
instead, properly trained dancing-girls to do so before them. The
services of the dancing-girls are requisitioned only on festivals and
weddings, or when some wealthy man gives an entertainment to his friends
on the occasion of a visit from one of the princes or some high official
person.
The dancing-girls are accompanied by men with musical instruments who
form the orchestra, and among the instruments is the inevitable tom-tom
or drum, which is played by being struck with the fingers or the hand,
and not with drumsticks. The life of the dancing-girl is a hard one,
for the dancing they practice is exhausting, and induces a good deal of
perspiration, and the girl is clad in light flimsy muslin, while the
nights even in summer are chill, and all doors and windows are open to
the breeze. Consequently, she catches cold and gets fever and continues
to get it, for she must practice her profession whenever called upon,
so that it is not a matter for surprise that these girls mostly die
of consumption. The dancing-girls in Kabul are Hindustanis, from the
Peshawar and Delhi districts, while some are the offspring of former
dancing-girls and the men of the country. Although much has been said
about the Oriental dancing-girls’ poetry of motion, and I have seen
many others in different parts of India, their action during the dance
appears very studied and wanting in grace, even with the best of them,
and none that I have seen are to be compared with our own principal
ballet-dancers for grace of movement.
Among wild Afghan tribes, such as the Jidrani and others, knife-dances
are indulged in. About fifty men arrange themselves in a circle with
four or five more in the centre, who beat tom-toms and tambourines, and
play on stringed instruments. The dance commences by the men springing
forward towards the centre of the circle and back again, flashing their
knives about over their heads, and singing in time to the music in a low
tone, but gradually the music, singing, and dancing become louder and
quicker, belts and turbans are thrown off to allow of greater freedom of
movement, and the knives flash more rapidly, until at last the men seem
in a very frenzy, and the dancing becomes a series of wild leaps in the
air, knives are thrown up and caught again, and the singing changes to a
chorus of wild yells. When the dance has reached its most frenzied point,
it suddenly ceases, and then there is a loud clapping of hands by the
dancers, and all is over.
They have another wild dance which resembles some strange rite of
worshippers round a fetish. Two or three men with tom-toms sit together,
and the dancers arrange themselves in a large circle round them, but
instead of facing towards the centre of the circle as in the former
dance, each man faces the one in front of him. When the tom-toms begin,
they spring forward a step and stop momentarily, then spring forward
again on the other foot, and so continue, but during each spring they
turn violently half round to right or left as each foot advances, and
the sudden twist they give their bodies sends their turbans or caps
flying after the first few steps. In a little while, when they begin to
warm up to the dance, they do a whole turn in the air during each spring
forward, and, as this is continued, the dancers become more and more
energetic, until their hair, which is worn long and cut straight round
the shoulders, stands out like a mop being wrung out as they spin round.
Their arms, being also extended at the same time, the whole effect, as
they spin round more rapidly and violently and the tom-toms beat quicker,
is exceedingly quaint.
Some of the people, mostly soldiers, go in for swordstick combats. The
swordsticks are similar to the English ones, with basket guards, but the
combatants carry small round leather shields in addition, which are held
in the left hand, and not partly on the forearm, as is usual with larger
shields. Some of the men are very expert in this exercise, but they do
very little guarding by means of the swordstick, and catch most of the
blows on the shield, for this allows of a quicker return stroke. They are
also much in favour of leaping back to avoid a leg-cut, leaning forward
as they do so to get in a down-stroke at their adversary’s head.
In the late spring of each year, the “Jubah” takes place. The jubah is a
fair combined with sports, and is held on a level strip of plain under
the Asman heights south-west of the city. Here they have horse races,
but the races are arranged on the spur of the moment between one man
and another, and are not agreed on beforehand to determine the best of
several horses over a fixed course. Food and toy-stalls are erected along
the slopes of the hill, and all Kabul and its children turn out for the
three days the fair is held. On these occasions the people put on their
best clothes, and the children are particularly gaudy in their coloured
velvet coats and caps. The children’s toys are very quaint in appearance.
The dolls are made of stuffed rag, and are dressed in Afghan fashion,
and represent both men and women, not children, while others represent
demons. Then there are small windmills fixed on the end of a stick, and
wooden whistles, and many other curiously shaped articles, all gorgeously
coloured, which children love. There is also a Turkestani tight-rope
walker dressed in a gaily coloured fantastic costume, who fits up two
long poles with a rope between, both poles and rope being very solidly
made and very firmly fixed, and gives displays thereon.
The jubah is also made the occasion for deciding the wrestling contests
between the chief “pulwans” (athletes) of the city. These wrestling
matches are usually conducted before the Amir and the princes, for whom
tents are erected on the hillside, and the Amir awards money prizes to
the victors. The keenest interest is taken in the wrestling by all
people, and among the competitors defeat is in some cases so taken to
heart that the man will never wrestle again, and others have been known
to become so depressed through being beaten as to commit suicide.
There is no course kept open for those who are racing their horses,
and the riders have to dodge in and out amongst the people and other
horses and donkeys as best they can, and often man and horse come to
grief, chiefly over a donkey which gets out of the way of no one, unless
under compulsion. On one occasion two men were racing their horses from
opposite ends of the plain, and met midway, and as neither would give way
to the other in passing they collided, and the result was that one man
and horse were killed on the spot, and the other two died the following
day.
Story-tellers are in great favour among the people, and a good
_raconteur_ may be sure of an attentive audience. The bazar story-teller
takes up his stand in a busy thoroughfare, and begins telling his story.
In a short time he is surrounded by a large crowd, eagerly drinking in
the various episodes related, while people riding or walking past have
difficulty in squeezing their way through the crowd, if they themselves
do not stop to swell it; but nothing is said or done by the passers-by to
disturb the story-teller in his recital of the adventures of the prince
or princess among the various jinn, fairies, or “deoo” (demons) of old
time. Story-tellers are also attached to the retinues of the Amir and the
princes, and others of high standing. All their attendants and officials
are story-tellers in a way; but those mentioned are special men, whose
chief duty it is to tell stories to their masters while the latter lie on
their beds at night and listen until they fall asleep.
In Kabul, when a guest is invited to dinner, the invitation means that
he is expected to stop the night in the house of his host, and on these
occasions, when the dinner has been despatched, the guests gather round
the host, squatting or lying on carpets while they smoke the chillum, and
each one takes his turn at telling a story. The interest in the stories
related is so great that they often sit listening to one another far into
the night, and are unfit for work the following day.
Boys and children amuse themselves in much the same way as English
children. The chief game among boys is “toop bazee,” which is played with
a flat piece of wood and a ball, and is very much like rounders. They
also go in for wrestling, and fencing with sticks, and throwing arrows
with a piece of string, at which they are rather expert. Some of the
elder boys shoot sparrows and small birds with clay pellets from a long
blow-pipe, and in order to get the birds at close range the boy takes his
stand beneath a tree and uses a call which imitates a number of sparrows
chirruping and fighting together, and this induces the sparrows to come
and investigate the cause of trouble, when they offer a good target from
below.
Smaller children play with balls, knuckle bones, marbles, and walnuts.
The walnuts are used as in a game of marbles, and any knocked out of the
ring, in which each player places a certain number, are the property of
the player who knocks them out.
Only very little girls are to be seen in the streets, as at about eight
years of age they become “purdah,” _i.e._ no longer to be seen by men
other than their relatives, and are confined to the women’s quarters of
the house, and cannot go outside unless wearing the “bukra,” or cotton
overdress, which covers them from head to foot, and has a slit covered
with fine lace in front of the eyes for them to see through. Little girls
may be seen sometimes on the house-top playing at a game similar to
ring-of-roses, or playing with their dolls, and keeping house, or keeping
shop, and other games of make-believe, which their sex delight in. Their
greatest delight is to have an English doll with English clothes, for
their own dolls are made of rag and dressed like themselves.