by Janet I. Martineau | The Saginaw News
Friday August 08, 2008, 10:26 AM
Behind the headlines is often an eye-opening place to visit.
Say the word Afghanistan and what comes to mind?
Terrorists...an endless war, first involving Russia and now the U.S. ....poverty...the Taliban destroying works of art...ignorance...women with their faces hidden and clad in big black robes.
Sad to say.
A recent chance encounter, however, brings more of a positive response to the word Afghanistan. At least to me.
Say the word Afghanistan now and I think of laughter, singing, trying to interpret the word intuition and all the chatter it caused, bee-keeping and rug-making, beautiful pieces of art created in an hour and an incredible sense of hope.
Little known, since the media concentrates on bad news more than good from that region of the world, is that for two years our U.S. State Department and
Midland's Northwood University have partnered in an unusual program -- one that is taking place as I am writing this.
For a month last year and again this year, 12 Afghani women -- BUSINESS WOMEN -- have come to Northwood for three weeks to attend special classes about running a business, marketing, entrepreneurship and the like and then for the fourth week traveled to the Detroit area for mentorships with American businesswomen.
A chance encounter with this year's crop of 12 occurred a couple of weeks ago when they paid a visit to Midland's Creative Spirit Center to learn about creativity.
It was one of the most fascinating four hours of my life -- listening to the Persian language with an occasional English word popping in amongst it and doing what all journalists love to do. Just observe, silently, humanity in action.
Among the 12 women were a bee keeper, the owner of a carpet-making firm, an oil importer, one who ran a road construction and building company, and (bless her soul) a woman who has created a shopping mall JUST FOR WOMEN.
Theirs is a country where women, they told us, are considered to have half a brain. Some of them laughed when the interpreter related that message to Sarah Gorman, the Creative Spirit Center executive director, and myself.
These fascinating 12 women, who know they have more than half a brain, were all ages -- 20s I am guessing to maybe 50.
Many were chewing gum. They wore fancy shoes and lovely pieces of jewelry and carried stylish purses. They all seemed to have digital point-and-shoot cameras, and used them often, and some of them had cell phones.
Yes, some donned head scarves, but no veils. Their clothes were very Western, as in fashionable slacks and tops.
Some took copious notes as Sarah talked to them about creativity and how it plays a role in lives. Others looked bored. Some were amused by the fact live dogs and cats were on the grounds and in the center that day because of a dog and cat art show.
Many understood the occasional word of English and responded to it.
The poor interpreter among their group was kept busy when a Sarah question prompted the 11 others to respond to it all at once.
One of the principles of creativity, Sarah told them, was to "use your intuition."
That created THE BUZZ. There is no Persian translation for that word. In fact, we were told, they couldn't even grasp the concept of an intuition. Sarah and I tried ... gut-feeling, hunch, inner feeling. They threw out possible substitute words, we threw them back and we never did get the concept across.
Sarah also advised them to think for themselves and not take rebuffs personally, and then wondered if that concept translated. Came back an answer that totally charmed us.
"Yes," said one of the women from this country where rug-making is a national treasure. "It means don't be a carpet and soak up everything." I shall remember that analogy until I die.
Then came the truly magical part of the afternoon when Sarah led the women downstairs to work on an art project -- decorate a small bird house with a variety of artsy/crafty goods or paint a watercolor.
No translation was needed for one Persian exchange between the interpreter and the woman who was most fashionably dressed. Ms. Fashion wanted no part of this art project thing. The interpreter insisted. And insisted. Voices raised between the two until the interpreter dragged Ms. Fashion to the art supplies table and she gave in.
Good lord. Just like us there is always someone who is not game.
Soon the 12 were singing, one leading them and the others joining in. Occasionally one or two got up and danced. The laughed and laughed as they chatted among themselves.
I tried recording their music through my cell phone, so I could do a podcast and you could hear the joy it in, but it did not work.
The songs, what are they singing about, I asked the translator. About love, she said, the dark eyes of their lover.
And the art work -- it was exquisite. The bird houses were intricately detailed and colorful. The paintings ... one was of Mickey Mouse and others of the homeland.
"Wow, beautiful," they'd say, in perfect English, as they showed off their creations to each other.
They brought them, one at a time, to proudly show Sarah. They wanted her to sing and when she offered "You Are My Sunshine" they sang it with her once it started repeating. Pictures were taken, of them and their art, and then they donated all the pieces to the center.
I was thinking, too, of posting the pictures I took of them and their art but then thought better of it should somehow these pictures posted on a worldwide Internet site be used against them back home.
One came over to me and showed me photos of her rug-making business and the women she employs, and gave me a flyer and business card should I care to order one.
"My son," she said twice when a man's image was in one of the photos.
And then they were gone as a Northwood van arrived.
Sarah and I waved good-bye.
It is likely I'll never see these 12 Afghan women ever again; so much like us, kindred spirits across thousand of miles and cultures, cheerful with their singing and joking yet faced with incredible challenges in their war-torn home.
And I'll always wonder how the rest of their lives played out behind the headlines and news sound bites that convey so little.
