The community of expatriates living in Kabul is vividly depicted in your novel, and Georgie and her two roommates are quite involved in their local community. Georgie’s romance with Haji Khan is particularly moving. Did you witness many romances between foreigners and Afghans when you lived in Kabul?
Although marriages between Afghan men and Western women have been documented, it is by no means the norm. Even though I have heard of relationships taking place, it is rare to witness such affairs because they are conducted in private and well away from the public eye, out of necessity. Afghanistan remains a very conservative society and there are rules to follow, both traditional and religious. There is no dating culture in Kabul!
In my experience, Afghan men are charming, chivalrous, and hard as nails—both inside and out. I know this because I count some of them among my best friends! If a Western woman seriously wanted to enter into marriage with an Afghan man it would be extremely testing—and she would almost certainly have to conform to the strict rules of Afghan society and ideally convert to Islam. However, when you truly love someone anything is possible and, I guess, that’s the beauty of it.
On the more general topic of expat relations with Afghans, most of the foreigners I know in Kabul enjoy genuine friendships with the locals they work with or meet by chance. The strict rules that pose such an obstacle to a romantic relationship do not apply to the same degree in a social context. It would be hard to find a more hospitable place on earth than Afghanistan.
One thing your novel explores is how vibrant the city of Kabul is, despite the poverty of many of its residents. When you lived there, was it difficult to face the lack of resources of many of the Afghans? Was it difficult to write about?
I didn’t flaunt my comparative wealth while I was in Afghanistan—while some had armored Land Cruisers I traveled in a battered Toyota Corolla. However, it’s hard not to feel like a heel when you are being driven to work in the depths of winter and you spy a child walking in the snow in bare feet. The poverty is appalling, but you do what you can to help where you can.
* * *
The average life expectancy is forty-four. This is the reality. The other reality is that Afghans are bewilderingly stoical.
* * *
I certainly didn’t find it a difficult subject to write about; poverty is a fact of life for the majority. You can’t ignore it. Besides, I wanted people to understand how challenging life is for ordinary Afghans. Afghanistan has the world’s second-highest infant mortality rate. The average life expectancy is forty-four. This is the reality. The other reality is that Afghans are bewilderingly stoical.
Your work as a journalist has taken you all over the world—what prompted you to turn to writing fiction? Was it a challenging switch for you to make?
I’ve written for various media outlets, but I also spent nine years working for tabloid newspapers, so some might argue that the transition to fiction wasn’t that great a leap to make! Of course, I’d beg to differ.
Like most reporters, I’d always harbored romantic dreams of becoming an author, but it was only in Afghanistan that I seriously decided to have a crack at it. To cut a very long story short, my boyfriend, a captain in the Austrian army, had finished his tour in Kabul—where we met—and I was desperately trying to work out a way to join him in his homeland. (There’s not much call for non-German-speaking ex-tabloid hacks in Vienna.) So, one morning I decided I would write a book. I knew it would have to be about Afghanistan because it was a country I had grown to love and one that I felt was little understood. Although there are numerous fantastic history books, travelogues, and novels about the place, I wanted to capture the beauty I found there—the fun, the laughter, the love. Therefore, I opted for a romantic plot and decided it should be narrated by a hero who was still young enough to see the good in life—and bounce back from tragedy. Within forty minutes I’d sketched thirty chapters and that evening I started writing. Four months later the first draft was finished. And two months after that I said good-bye to Kabul.
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Although there are numerous fantastic history books, travelogues, and novels about the place, I wanted to capture the beauty I found there—the fun, the laughter, the love.
* * *
In all honesty, I found writing Born Under a Million Shadows a hugely enjoyable experience. I loved seeing my characters come to life and I wanted people—readers—to care about each and every one of them. It was challenging to consistently write as an eleven-year-old boy because there are times when you simply want to show off. However, after a break I’d come back and scrap any pompous pretense of literary greatness and return to character.
What do you hope your readers take away from your novel?
Ultimately, that Afghans are deserving of our continued support—and as the last page turns that they discover a little piece of Afghanistan in their hearts.
Questions for Discussion
1. Born Under a Million Shadows is narrated by Fawad, a young boy, rather than by an adult. What is the purpose in having the novel narrated from a child’s point of view? Are events in the novel clarified or obstructed by the use of this perspective? Can you think of any examples?
2. How is the Taliban depicted in this novel? Did the novel change your perceptions of the Taliban? Of the Afghan people?
3. Fawad, Jamilla, and Spandi are very close friends. Does their friendship help to protect them from some of the dangers of Kabul? How does poverty affect their bond?
4. What are some of the major differences between Afghan and Western societies shown in the novel? Are there certain aspects of Afghan society (its famous hospitality or deference to elders, for example) that you’d like to see more of in Western society? What about vice versa?
5. Ismerai tells Fawad, “Education is the key to Afghanistan’s successful future.” The importance of education is one of the novel’s main themes—how is this shown? What does Georgie do that makes this clear? What about Pir Hederi, Haji Khan, or Shir Ahmad?
6. The “foreigners” in the novel form a close friendship—a family, really—despite being from different backgrounds and having differing opinions. Do you think their bond is stronger than it might have been otherwise because of their expatriate status? Have you ever made friends with someone you might not have usually because you found yourself in the same position as that person?
7. Fawad notes that “Afghanistan is famous for two things: fighting and growing poppies.” Jahid declares, “Th is ‘stop growing poppy’ shit is the West’s problem, not ours.” Do you think that’s true? Would Afghanistan be better off without poppy farming, or is it merely the West’s “war on drugs” that has made poppy farming so contentious? How is drug use portrayed in the novel?
8. What role does Fawad’s stabbing of Philippe play in the novel? Is it just comic relief or is it more than that?
9. Haji Khan and Georgie’s love affair is one of the central points of the novel. Do you think they’re meant to be together? Did your opinion of their love change as the novel progressed? Can two people from totally different worlds really put their differences aside and live happily ever after? Do you think you would be able to make the sacrifices Georgie makes for Haji Khan or the sacrifices he makes for her?
10. What role does religion play in the novel? Georgie calls herself a “Godless kafir” at one point, but by the novel’s end she has professed her belief and converted to Islam. Do you think that she truly believes?
11. How does Spandi’s death affect Fawad? Fawad says, “Although more than half of my family had gone the same way, it had never seemed real.” Can you remember the first time death seemed real to you?
12. How does the ending reinforce some of the novel’s major themes? Is it an ending worthy of Laila and Majnun, the couple in Jamilla’s mother’s story? Do you think it’s a hopeful ending—not just for the characters of the novel but also for Afghanistan?
Five Books Andrea Busfield
Can’t Live Without
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An Unexpected Light: Travels in Afghanistan by Jason Elliot
Th is is a remarkable and beautifully written account of Elliot’s travels in Afghanistan, first in the midst of the Soviet occupation and then during the emergence of the Taliban. It is one of the few books I have read twice and it’s like falling into a vat of chocolate—luxurious, lyrical, and deeply satisfying. There are also some laugh-out-loud moments such as Elliot’s wonderful examination of Afghanistan’s relationship with her neighbors.
Emergency Sex (and Other Desperate Measures) by Kenneth Cain, Heidi Postlewait, and Andrew Thomson
I started reading this shortly after moving to Kabul and almost regretted not having gone to university—a largely insurmountable barrier to joining the United Nations. The book is the work of three civilians who worked for the UN and the Red Cross and who first met in Cambodia. It is a wonderful, fast-paced, and oft en humorous account of their growing friendship against a backdrop of some of the world’s worst war zones. At times funny, shocking, and tragic, it is a very personal story that left me inspired.
Kestrel for a Knave by Barry Hines
Th is is the first book that broke my heart. It’s the tale of a disillusioned teenager growing up in a small Yorkshire mining town who finds a kestrel hawk he names Kes. It’s a slim novel that grabs you instantly and leaves you battered. I read it in one sitting and twenty years later just thinking about it raises the hairs on my neck.
Birds Without Wings by Louis de Bernières
If I am writing, about to start writing, or even thinking about writing, I absolutely do not, under any circumstances, pick up a Louis de Bernières novel. Quite simply, I think the man’s a genius and I suspect a part of me actually wants to be him, albeit with more hair and less manly. Birds Without Wings is perhaps my favorite of his novels. Set in the period when the Ottoman Empire was collapsing, the story centers on a small community in southwest Anatolia where Christians and Muslims have peacefully coexisted for centuries—until the outside world intrudes. A long and sometimes complicated tale, this is a novel that requires your absolute attention because there’s a cast of characters to get your head around. But, as ever with a Bernières work of art, those who persevere are always rewarded. Tragic and magical.
The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time by Mark Haddon
I fell in love with this book on a beach in Tunisia. A quick read packing a massive punch, it’s the tale of a teenager with autism who is determined to uncover a crime (the title should give a clue as to what crime has been committed). Engaging and human, it is one of the few books I’ve read that deserves to be described as hysterically funny. It is a joy from start to finish and in my mind an absolute masterpiece because there’s a fine line between laughing at someone and laughing with them, and in Th e Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time you are firmly in tune with the hero.
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