Sylvia's Journal

We met up with Razia and Wazmah at the Istiglal Lycee in the center of Kabul for the opening ceremonies of the film festival. Being one of the few foreigners walking into the place we were immediately captured on camera. Not just for a while but for a long time, our every movement recorded. There was no need for a special invitation as we were invited with open arms and provided with all sorts of information, most of it in Dari.

There were some glitches and the opening was delayed by nearly one hour during which the temperature rose steadily. A few other foreigners were representing the biggest sponsors: the Goethe Institute, the French Cultural Centre and the British Council. Patrons and artists mixed in the audience, the latter recognizable by their attire, although I could not make up my mind whether the men in shiny suits were sponsors, government officials or film makers.

Axel is very good at introducing himself to anyone at any time. I don’t think he is going to have a hard time networking himself into Afghan society, at the least that part of it that speaks English and likes foreigners. We returned from the festival with several new contacts, one the head of the festival’s organizing team and the other the director of the French cultural center.

We spent an hour and a half listening to speeches, mostly in Dari, by sundry officials, with occasional translation in broken English. The master of ceremonies was the professor of film making, with a penchant for poetry. I was sorry I could not understand him when he recited poetry, sometimes in Dari and sometimes in Pashto. Even without understanding it was beautiful to watch him recite and listen to is melodious voice. If I wasn’t already motivated to learn Dari I would be now.

After about one and a half hour in the musty and hot auditorium we got to see the trailers (too short) of all the Afghan and some of the international films. I wish I could go and see them all but unfortunately the festival is more or less during work hours. Axel is planning to go as much as he can.

After the trailers we were treated to a short documentary about watching movies in Afghanistan. The footage showed pictures of destroyed cinemas (presumably by the Taliban) and old men sitting in living rooms and tea houses watching semi-clad females dancing and singing. Unfortunately the film was entirely in Dari so we missed what all the old men were saying. We knew it was funny because the audience broke out in laughter repeatedly. We gathered that the documentary was about the love-hate relationship of the Afghans (men only) with films: entertaining and titillating on the one hand while rejected as perverse and inappropriate for Afghanistan on the other hand.

Once again the entire thing was primarily a male event. The only female who made it onto the stage was German, from the Goethe Institute. A few Afghan women were present in the audience, and then of course there were the Bollywood actresses, nothing more than objects of lust.