If you can answer, "Yes," to even two of these questions, you are far ahead of the women in Afghanistan.
I watched The Beauty Academy of Kabul (2004) this evening. You've probably seen the book, KABUL BEAUTY SCHOOL, that I believe was published after the documentary was filmed. Most popular bookstores pull this title out every other month or so for the "Buy One, Get One Free" table. Whether or not any of the employees has ever read it, the book has a pretty green cover with a girl in the center whose face is covered with a thin, dark veil. Good marketing. The film and the book are divided between the women involved and, for once, it sounds like the more accurate story is to be found in the film (the author of the book caused much anger among the other women involved in the project with exaggerations and stretched truths concerning the situation in this country as well as her own significance: NYT Article on book issues).A program was organized to bring American hairdressers to Afghanistan to open up a beauty school for the local women. This American group arrived at a time of dubious security. One of the teachers, in attempt to describe the situation in Afghanistan told her personal story. She said that she had been raised here but left for America during a time of great violence. She missed the hell of the Soviet daily bombings, the oppression of the Taliban, etc. She returns after 23 years to participate in the Beauty Academy. She says that, before she left, Kabul was a pretty contemporary place with many buildings, many schools, many places. She said that now, after that time of modernity, Afghanistan has fallen back more than one hundred years.
There are several shots in the film of daily life in the city of Kabul. It's nothing like anything we're used to around here. Most of the buildings are ruins, ghosts of better times. Rather than being repaired or replaced, they lie there, these stone corpses of civilization, rotting in the streets. People walk around them (and the various pods of armed men) to get to work, to school, and to the hairdresser's...
A salon in Afghanistan is not like what we have here. Here you see many chairs, many products, and several people either having their hair cut or sitting in a waiting area on a couch or chair. Women sipping coffee and reading a magazine as they wait. In Afghanistan, there is typically one room in some woman's house in which there is one chair for the current client. The rest of the people waiting sit on the floor or stand outside waiting their turn. The hairdresser, if she's fortunate, has a closet of her supplies. The film interviews about four of these women who run in-home salons and cut or style hair in between house chores, cooking, caring for small children, etc. It's really quite remarkable what these women have been bred to do...
They are machines. So much is expected of them and they definitely rise to the occasion. This is a culture in which women are expected to obey the will of their husbands. Should a woman have her own opinion or disobey, she is considered a whore and thrown out of her home. They live in constant fear of husbands, of the men. When asked how things might be different if women were in charge, these conditioned soldier-ladies cannot even imagine. "I don't think women can run things. The men would never let that happen," one woman answers with a commonplace smile on her face as if she were saying, "That's just life."
In one exchange, the teachers of the school have a chance to talk to girls about marriage and love in this country. Largely, marriages are arranged. Love matches are looked down upon. Most women would never even admit that they loved some boy. Instead, they accept the fate of their parents' decisions and marry cousins or distant relations (and at young ages... as young as 14). One woman scoffed at the notion that anyone would even want to marry for love. "If he can fall in love with you, he can just as easily fall in love with someone else," she explained.
Yet, with all these differences, the idea of individuality and honing visual talents into making women look a little lovelier unite all nationalities of women. The Afghan women envy the American woman's ability to go out at night alone, to wear short skirts, short sleeves, and to wear make-up whenever they want. In the regressive wasteland of Afghanistan, women dare not incur the jealousy and wrath of their men. Only for weddings, it seems, do the women wear full make-up or have their hair styled (and yet, they'll still be expected to wear the head-dresses that cover all that creativity). Men have convinced women that they will ruin their skin if they wear make-up, so, most of these women only wear a little lipstick or gloss on any kind of regular basis.
So, what's the point? Aren't these people behind enough without getting a load of Afghan women in trouble with their husbands, uncles, brothers, and fathers? There was definitely one teacher who I felt pushed a little too hard with no consideration for the cultural issues at stake for women who tried to drive a car or walk around with a short, short haircut. These women deserve these rights, but they're still working on being comfortable with mascara for crying out loud...
I can't even explain the joy and freedom these women seemed to feel when this school opened up. The walls were lined with women on opening day. Some had to be turned away and asked to return three months later for the next session. I assume I don't get it because I take for granted the liberty I have to create my own style knowing that it's the men in this country who live in fear of what we women will do if they say the wrong thing. It's truly an irritating Sandra Bullock moment for me-- at the end of Miss Congeniality, after all the crap she gives these typical beauty queens about their silly emotions, she starts to tear up as she describes her experience in their high heels. This is how I feel about this documentary. I went into it wondering what exactly I was supposed to get out of it. By the end, I couldn't help but feel moved......because Afghanistan is the perfect place to bring a beauty school. For what else do these women have the time and space to be happy? For the first few trial days when the students of the school gave free cuts and perms to the public to help them practice, women left crying because they were happy. That's the word that was used. They were happy because of their hair. Maybe they'll have to cover it on the streets, but they know they have their own look underneath the veil.
I would have to be able to imagine a life where I was not allowed to choose... well, anything... to see how a new haircut could change my world. It already has the power to alter a bad mood and I can choose a style every month. I can do what I want, when I want... I don't have to settle for my imperfections. I have the luxury of vanity. These women are happy just for a change of scenery once in a great while.
There's not much to the story. It's really just a portrait of womanhood in a very different, foreign part of the world. It shows you our differences, it shows you how we're the same. Like a good film, it does not spell everything out for you. It just takes you on the journey and lets the characters speak for themselves. These are voices worthy of our attention... if for nothing else, to remind us how good we have it here.
(Images from popmatters.com, www.film-forward.com, and http://citypaper.net)
1 comment:
Just to make one last point, note that not absolutely all Afghan men are oppressive brutes. This is a cultural issue that will take time to move the whole of society. Like any other country in the world, there are some men who care deeply about the movement for women's rights. Like any social issue, there are always exceptions. However, when you see the film, the problem clearly still exists today and needs a little encouragement to move for change... perhaps starting with brave and creative women like those in the film.
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