Fieldnotes on Humanity

We live with our memories, and those memories are part of our past, the past which is connected with our tradition, religion, and culture. We are who we are, and sometimes we carry our values with us wherever we go, no matter how far-flung the corners of the world are. I am carrying my people's and villagers' immemorial custom with me, which connects me to a land that takes great pride in itself, no matter if it is devastated by war. Tonight, I shared the customs of Eid al-Fitr with Dickinson students. Telling the story about my village, my family and relatives and how we were celebrating, I felt exalted at the dinner table. Students became more curious about Eid and wanted to learn more about my village. I wish I had had enough time to talk more about it. Most of the students who celebrated Eid were Americans; they either had been on an abroad program in the Middle East, which Dickinson offers, or were pursuing majors in Middle Eastern studies. By the way, these are the lines ...

Eid al Fitr is one the most important holidays among Muslims, especially among Afghans. I've been out of the country for nearly three years and now God knows how much I miss Eid, how much I miss my village, my family and relatives. Until last year, I was resisting not to even about it. I now admit that this year, on the threshold of Eid I began to feel more and more homesick. I now remember those days, hennaining our hands, waking up early and taking bath, washing our teeth and breaking our fast with family. What a joyful days. While thinking about Eid and feeling homesick, I found a clip of an old Afghan song from 1960s - sang by Mohammad Hussain Sarahang who was a master in Afghan classical music. Here is the clip and by the way it's sang in Dari/farsi, underneath of this clip you will find the translation in English. Gladden my spirit, it is sad. Be kind to my heart, it is impoverished. The very first day I laid eyes on you, I said: "The one that will darken my days i...