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issue One after
the other Of
the youth, by the youth The idea of
a house Purveyor of new
ideas
Anger let loose Incidents of jail riots, like the recent one in Malir Jail, underscore the need for
urgent and long term prison reforms By Shahid Husain It was 1971. A military operation was going on in the then East Pakistan and we were in Central Jail Karachi, arrested for writing a pamphlet against military dictator General Yahya Khan and making speeches against the killing of innocent Bengalis. Amongst others in jail were
veteran politician and general secretary of the erstwhile National Awami
Party (NAP) Mahmoodul Haq Usmani, communist leader Dr M.R. Hassan, trade
union leader Javed Shakoor, student activists Hidayat Husain, Tanveer Sheikh,
NAP’s Karachi secretary Nawaz Butt and political activist Shahid Maseh,
Inayat Kashmiri, Hafeez and Khattak. I was 19 at the time. I still vividly remember the fateful day when my mother came to see me and brought some fruits. The then superintendent jail Manzoor Panhwar was sitting in the “mari”, a place where inmates meet their relatives and friends. Apparently Panhwar got furious because he thought I did not pay him the necessary respects. When I handed over a chit to my mother with my name so that she could tag the fruit basket, Panhwar thought I had passed her a letter. He howled and ordered his subordinates to beat me up even though he could not find any evidence against me. After I got a severe beating, Panhwar ordered that I should be shifted to Band Ward [read solitary confinement]. However, when Mahmoodul Haq Usmani and Dr Hassan protested strongly, I was transferred to Landhi Jail (now Malir Jail). Today if the inmates of Malir Jail protest against the harsh treatment of jail authorities, it should come as no surprise to all those familiar with the sadistic attitude of jail authorities. Even political prisoners are not spared by the jail high-ups while inmates with criminal charges are condemned to live in miserable conditions. The riots in Malir Jail on
October 16 have a sequence. According to a report published in The News on
October 14, a riot broke out in Central Jail Karachi on the evening of
October 13 when around 35 prisoners started a protest after a prisoner
hailing from a nationalist organisation Jeay Sindh Qaumi Mahaz (JSQM) was
shifted into solitary confinement. Reportedly, they were also angry because
many of their relatives had to pay substantial amounts of money to the jail
employees if they wanted to meet them. The jail police resorted to rubber
bullet firing while prisoners pelted stones on them. As a result, over 30
prisoners were injured while jail superintendent Nusrat Hussain along with
some other officials was also wounded. Tension in Central Jail Karachi had hardly subsided when the police shot dead four prisoners and wounded 13 after a riot broke in Malir Jail on October 16. Reportedly, the riot started when the authorities started a search for cell phones and weapons at Malir Jail. Police claimed that violence erupted in the over-crowded prison when some prisoners attacked the police in an attempt to break out through a gate. However, prisoners are reported to have said the protest was sparked by harsh conditions in the jail. People are arrested on the pretext of being reformed in jails. But the conditions in prisons are so harsh that even ordinary prisoners become hardened criminals before they come out. Jail manual is not followed, prisoners are not served food they have been allowed under the jail manual and are beaten by the authorities on the slightest pretext. Homosexuality is rampant, and influential groups even resort to drugs that are easily available. The extent of over-crowding in prisons could be gauged from the fact that Malir Jail is functioning with double its capacity. This over-crowding leads to aggressive behaviour and clashes are inevitable. Reuters reported that in another incident, prisoners including Taliban militants took four guards hostage during a riot sparked by a search for mobile telephones and weapons at Malir Jail. But the leaders of Jeay Sindh Qaumi Mahaz narrate a different story and accuse the jail authorities of discriminating political prisoners. “Some Jeay Sindh activists are in prison for more than 10 years. But relatives have to pay money to the jail employees if they want to meet them. The conditions in Malir Jail as elsewhere are pathetic and if anybody dares to challenge it, he is severely punished,” Elahi Baksh Bikak, spokesman of JSQM told TNS. While the conditions in jails are far from satisfactory, one of the most acute problems is that of under-trial prisoners who are languishing there for years without a hearing. According to press reports, more than 6,000 of the 7,300 prisoners in Central Jail Karachi and Malir Jail are under-trial prisoners. “Malir Jail was built in 1962 and has a capacity of 893 prisoners but 2190 prisoners have been stuffed there. Amongst them, hardly five per cent are convicts while the rest are under-trial prisoners,” said Justice (retired) Nasir Aslam Zahid who works for the benefit of women and juvenile prisoners while talking to TNS. “Jail manual can’t be implemented because neither there is a political will to bring reforms nor is there any infrastructure. The judicial, prison and police system need to be overhauled because the police fail to provide evidence against under-trial prisoners for years and that is a major factor for resentment among inmates,” he said. He believes Pakistan is on the verge of a “bloody revolution” if those at the helm of the affairs do not act quickly. Yamin Khan, Inspector General Prisons Sindh, admits that there are 5,800 prisoners against a capacity of 1600 in Central Jail Karachi alone. He believes the situation would ease after the construction of new jails. However, Justice (retired) Zahid maintains mere construction of new jails is not the panacea until and unless the judicial system is reformed and under-trial prisoners get a fair trial. One after the other Jail riots have recently become common in Pakistan. In the last few weeks, riots erupted in prisons of Hyderabad, Karachi, Multan and Timergara due to the inhuman attitude of the jail staff towards the inmates and unliveable conditions in jails. On October 15, 2008, a violent protest broke out in Malir Jail and the ensuing clashes between the prisoners of Malir jail and the jail police claimed the lives of three prisoners. The prisoners, who gained total control of the jail premises for a while, dismantled the barracks and torched the offices of jail officials along with the recently-established industry set up within the prisons. Seven people, including three policemen, were injured. In its statement Human Rights Commission of Pakistan said: “The recent rioting in prisons of Hyderabad, Karachi, Multan and Timergara and the loss of life there is tragic but unfortunately not unexpected. These incidents are a result of problems left unresolved for decades. “The issue is certainly bigger than prison riots or attempted jailbreaks alone. Appalling overcrowding, rampant corruption, torture, unhygienic food, lack of health facilities and staff training, tardy judicial process, inefficient investigation and prosecution are all key issues that have not been addressed and cannot be wished away.” It is an open secret that corruption, torture, sexual abuse, drug addiction and disease are rampant in jails. Our authorities are well aware of all these facts. An official report of the Interior Ministry on conditions of jails in Pakistan, submitted to the PM Secretariat in May this year, has revealed the actual situation in our jails. According to the report, overcrowding due to legal complications, mal-administration, lack of facilities, lack of welfare measures, and low priority of training jail staff, are some of the key problems in jails. The prisons are still run under the rules and regulations introduced by British colonial rulers in the 19th century — meant to suppress local prisoners. Most of the laws and rules related to prisons and prisoners in Pakistan Penal Code are derived from Indian Penal Code, 1860. Similarly, the Prison Act promulgated in 1894 is still followed in Pakistan. The other current laws on jail include The Prisons Reformatory Schools Act 1897; Prisoners Act 1900; Borstal Act 1926; Probation and Offenders Ordinance 1960 and so on. Experts are of the view that these laws hardly ensure any rights to prisoners but, on the other hand, provide awesome powers to the jail staff to repress inmates. Besides the inhuman behaviour of the jail staff, the physical state of the jails is very bad and they are immensely overcrowded. According to HRCP’s annual report ‘State of Human Rights in 2007’, prison conditions in Pakistan continue to be poor. “The prisons were on an average 133% overcrowded with 95,016 prisoners housed in them, compared to an authorized capacity of 40,825”. All these factors contribute to the outbreak of clashes between the jail staff and prisoners over different issues. Since 2000, many riots have erupted in different jails causing damage to both lives and property. On Jun 4, 2001, eleven prisoners, some jail officials and senior policemen were injured as prisoners battled jail officials and other police at the Faisalabad District Jail. The four hour riot reportedly broke when prisoners under trial lodged in barracks 6 and 7 were told to work on under-construction barracks of the jails in the morning. On their refusal, some jail staff started beating them. The prisoners in return threw bricks at the jail staff and started breaking down the barracks. On Aug 13, 2001, in another incident of violence at Sahiwal Central Jail, 95 prisoners and six jail employees were injured during a clash between inmates and jail staff. The riots took place after death of a prisoner Bashir Hanjra, who was reportedly killed by police torture. In Rahim Yar Khan District Jail, a riot broke on Nov 14, 2002, in which 21 prisoners were injured in police baton-charge; the reason being, the inmates’ demand of provision of proper latrines in the jail. Similarly, in Nov 2002, in Sahiwal Central Jail a prisoner Mohammad Ejaz died and 39 others were injured when police opened fire to quell a battle between prisoners and jail employees. In July 25, 2003, armed inmates rioted in the Sialkot jail, killing eight people, including three judges who were on routine inspection. On Sept 2, 2004, a riot broke out in the Sargodha district jail following the death of an inmate, allegedly from jail staff torture. Four prisoners were killed and six guards and several got injured. Several guards were briefly held hostage. The riots ended when an autopsy showed that the inmate in question died of a heart attack rather than torture. On April 3, 2005, three prisoners in Adiala jail in Rawalpindi went on a hunger strike against the jail officials for not granting visitation rights to their relatives. When the police tried to force feed the prisoners, a prison riot ensued. All 5,000 inmates of Adiala jail subsequently went on a hunger strike and clashed with the police, injuring three police officers and 11 prisoners. On May 12, 2005, inmates took control of the Sukkur central jail, holding the assistant superintendent and eight security guards hostage. The inmates were protesting prison guards’ alleged theft of valuables. Police called in to repress the uprising fired on the inmates, killing 1 prisoner and injuring 26. On June 24, 2005 inmates at the Sargodha jail took two assistant superintendents and four wardens hostage to protest mistreatment. In the ensuing clash, nine inmates and one guard suffered injuries. One of them later died from injuries sustained during the riot. In September 2007 prisoners at Mach jail during a search for illegal drugs took about 24 wardens hostage over the issue of mistreatment. They also set on fire a barrack in the prison. It is a reality that in the absence of massive jail reforms, such incidents cannot be put a stop to. (TNS Report) Of the youth, by the youth At the 7th Youth Performing Arts Festival, the courage of the organisers was supplemented by that of the people who turned up in large
numbers to attend By Sarwat Ali It has always been assumed that it required courage to mount a production or to organise a festival in Pakistan, but now the word courage is being interpreted in a totally different way. Previously it was the loss of revenue or reputation that mattered, now it is the loss of one’s life that is feared. It used to happen, mostly
in the rural areas on melas and urs, that the tents and stage of the
performing artists were uprooted or destroyed by a few elements, most of whom
wanting some undue concessions used the pretext of a moral cause. Usually, it
was primarily the consequence of not getting the police on board albeit with
some harassment by and large the shows went off well in a reasonably secure
environment. But now the situation has changed as the arts and in particular
the performing arts are being targeted. The courage of the organisers was supplemented by the courage of the people who also turned up in large numbers to attend the various performances of the festival. For staging any public event these days, there is a lot of apprehension and in this festival too it was feared that the audiences may stay away because of security concerns but at least this fear was allayed by the good turnout. Since it was a youth festival, it was mostly the youngsters who came to applaud and support their friends and class fellows and many parents who wanted to see their children perform. Like the earlier festivals, the most positive aspect of the 7th Youth Performing Arts Festival held at the Alhamra Cultural Complex under the aegis of Rafi Peer Theatre Workshop (RPTW) was the large number of groups that took part in performances of theatre, dance, mime and music. Some of the plays written by the youngsters themselves on the problems faced by the youth and the way they view this society from their perspective was indeed a very healthy prospect and one hoped that this young talent would in future take writing and theatre more seriously, honing it in the process. The theatre groups that took part in the festival were Lahore Grammar School with Mirza Sahiban, Fatima Jinnah Women’s University with Katvi Chat, Pattan Lok Natak with Leeray Chor, The Institute of Space Technology with Ibne Kabeel, Natak with Aik Election Soo Afsanay, Lahore Grammar School (Main Gulberg) with Labyrinth, National College of Arts with Three Jones, Theatre Thespians Karachi with Waiting for Godot. University of Engineering and Technology with Basti Daad, Chand Bagh School with Lami Judai and Macbeth. Mass Foundation with Permasher Singh, City School with Pygmalion, Mir Theatre with Angan Tera, Gram Gram Performing Arts Society of Beacon House National University with 8 Bajay, Indus Valley School of Art and Architecture with Eight Openings, and LACAS with Absolutely! {Perhaps}. Other than theatre, there were many dance performances principally by Umair Arif, Suhae Abro, Mohsin Babar, Reza Shah and Bina Jawad Ensemble. The Mime section was well represented by Neo Transitional Mime, National College of Arts Auto Crash, Government College University Faisalabad Snow White in 2008”, Lahore School Drama and Entertainment Society Her Imperfect Prayer Cycle, Gram Gram Performing Arts Society, Beacon House National University Just Like Hitler, University of Engineering and Technology Death Beat, Fankaar Theatre Na Tu Aye Ge and NCA, Rawalpindi Ishq Deway Joag. The film section constituted several films by: Beacon House University, Fatima Jinnah University, Indus Valley, Lahore Grammar School. While a workshop conducted by Andreas Ceska focused on theatre mime and movement was also held at the festival, it proved to be a good occasion to conduct the workshop because young performers had converged to the festival from all over the country. Many of the promising young performers of the last five years did not take part in the festival. As one wave of promising youngsters passes and is replaced by another there seems no gradual transition of the mantle. Ideally one set of youngsters should stay long enough in the field to gain sufficient experience and then work with their younger counterparts to pass on that experience as part of a process. This ensures a gradual accumulation of experience and craft which, by the end of the day, becomes a substantial pool of skilled human resource. The ideal situation is when the youngsters work with the more experienced because it is a mutually beneficial relation. The new ideas and the enthusiasm need a discipline and a worked out craft, and in such a partnership the ground is laid for a fruitful exchange. In the last decade or so, the explosion of the television networks and the proliferation of the channels have provided a ready-made opportunity which was not there earlier for the performers. Many of the youngsters who make an appearance in a festival, like the one under review, get sucked by the voracious appetite of these channels much too soon and gain quick fame which works to their detriment in the long run. It just does not give them enough gestation periods to work on their craft and develop an individual expression. Only in the case of some lucky, fame and fortune does not become a roadblock in the development of their talent. RPTW now holds four major Festivals — The World Performing Arts Festival, The National Folk Puppet Festival, The International Mystic Music Sufi Festival and Youth Performing Arts Festival. Full marks to them.
The idea of a house Risham Syed’s recent work, being displayed at Canvas Gallery in Karachi, affirms her position as a sensitive painter who is well aware that there is no other home for a creative person than art By Quddus Mirza Many people, who
have read One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez, may not be
aware that, initially, the book was named ‘House’. Only during the course
of writing, the celebrated author from Latin America changed it to its
present title. Mainly, because the story that extends to several generations
of Buendia family revolves around a house, which is situated in the imaginary
town of Macondo, but turns into a symbol of the world and encompasses
histories, political conflicts, fears, fantasies, love, war, death and
destruction. Apart from fiction, in real life, too, house holds a great importance for humans. We spend our entire lives within built spaces: living in homes, studying at schools, working in offices, going to shops, staying in hotels and sometimes lying in hospitals. Yet out of all these places, it is our house that assumes a mind picture — as solid as the structure in brick and mortar — and often accompanies us to distant locations. The house does not only illustrate a style in architecture or suggests an example of building technology; it signifies a concept: A person’s image of himself — the mosaic that includes his personal ideas as well his religious beliefs and cultural currents — is manifested in the form of an ideal house, which in most cases exists in the realm of dreams, desires, and disappointments. The house not only stands for private needs: it reflects a basic, perhaps instinctual, need of mankind — of making a shelter. The same urge that is witnessed in a sparrow building its nest, a turtle shaping its hideout by shifting sand and a rabbit digging a hole in the ground to live in. No wonder that children, as soon as they start growing up, begin to imagine an ideal place for the future which can become an extension of their selves. For one reason or the
other, this desire for shelter is more common among women than men in our
society. Thus majority of young women like to live in future, with a nice and
comfortable house, which they hope to decorate as they like, and which
eventually can guarantee safety and security. Hence, the house assumes a
complex concept that includes husband and children (but preferably no other
relative) and all the objects of desire. The idea of a house — beyond its actual representation or physical dimension — appears in the mixed media paintings of Risham Syed, being displayed from October 23-31, 2008, at Canvas Gallery in Karachi. The connection between a house and a painting is paradoxical — because canvases are usually small in size compared to a living quarter (of any size), and it is the painting which is put inside the house and not vice versa. But Syed has reversed that relationship in her work. For a number of years, she has been drawing images of ideal home, visuals which denoted the yearning of a class; and which once painted, are bought, brought and displayed inside large houses. So the pictures of ideal home end up in ideal homes! In her usual soft and subtle tone, Risham has been commenting upon the custom of building palatial houses in her earlier works, both in colonial-style constructions and recent ones that imitate the villas from California. Both indicate how a majority of our population aspires to become sophisticated, prosperous and powerful. Arguably, the desire to acquire a perfect house is not the ultimate aim or destiny. It evolves into other ideas: the wider socio political theme of identifying with the West, and progress in its lieu; it also embodies a sense of power for some who consider themselves part of a world that has conquered or at least influenced rest of the humanity. Occupying a house in the image of a Western/American residence is a sign of being affluent. For others, it also demonstrates profound aesthetics. Thus elements of Greco-Roman architecture are frequently used, not just in our posh buildings, but in small constructions in middle class localities, thus making a pastiche of indigenous and foreign, past and present. In her recent works, Risham Syed investigates the artist’s position in this context. Her canvases comprise ideal (Western) homes, executed in or resembling the mediums of crochet, stitching and embroidery. She also employs printed fabric, blending the grandiloquent imagery with elements from her present day surroundings — depicting scenes of violence, i.e., burning of civic areas and battered vehicles. In a way the work can be read as the requiem to power - be that in the form of broken down Cobra helicopters, flattened cap of the founder of nation, disposed off election hoardings or mocking pictures of muscular macho men. In her attempt to shape a narrative that appears personal, yet politically potent, Syed searches for symbols that have multiple meanings, so the salon like arrangements, colonial mansion with decadent tea ritual/table and inclusion of objects from a familiar past (like plain post card and aerogram), link her work to an era that is still alive in our minds. However, she avoids the seduction of nostalgia, because her approach is critical and analytical towards her subject and imagery. On a formal level, her manner of mark making and the scheme of building layers of pictorial substance signify the presence of a sensitive painter, who is well aware that there is no other home for a creative person than his/her art. A situation that is fully explored by Risham with her diverse techniques and different materials, used in a way that the work, retaining its conceptual connection, still seduces the viewer with its painterly quality. Even though in a number of works, threads, plastic petals, leaves and artificial grass have been abundantly used, the application of these substances and the manner in which they are blended with conventional mediums affirm that the painter approaches her visual vocabulary in a lyrical manner; a strategy that serves to reflect our turbulent times — besides being a means to survive it!
Purveyor of new ideas The four
artists, who recently came together at the Vasl residency, seem untroubled by
what many would expect to be the travails of the diaspora
By Nafisa Rizvi Three young artists
working in the diaspora – Monali Meher, Riaz Mehmood and Jeanette Gaussi
– have come together for a five-week Vasl residency and have met up in
Karachi with another artist Khalil Chistee who is on a Rangoonwala residency.
The four of them have brought with them a ground of engagement which
incorporates the choicest elements of art function – art as the purveyor of
new ideas, whisperer of old relationships amidst new settings, the traverser
of boundaries and the harbinger of news from other worlds. These young men and women have a few fundamentals in common which renders their shared aura more electrifying than it would have been if they were just four artists communing on a single platform. They are all of South Asian descent, living away from their original homes and they work in new media. It is also interesting that their concerns are personal and universal rather than global or topical. Whether those concerns relate to their diasporic situation or not is a different matter. Jeanette Gaussi, born in Kabul, left her home country at the age of 5 to settle in Germany with her aunt when her mother became increasingly mistrustful of the security situation in Afghanistan, though this was before the Soviet war. “I finished my schooling there and then attended art school where I majored in three disciplines including Communication Design, Exhibition Design and Photography because they all three resonated with my inner compulsions.” In one of Gaussi’s
installations, she uses a set of black and white photographs of her family
which constituted the sum total of the remnants from her early childhood in
Kabul. “They tell of a life, luxurious and liberal, that people today find
very hard to imagine or associate with Afghanistan. But then things changed
and everyone who had the means to leave found an exit route.” The first time Gaussi returned to her native Kabul was in 2007 on an initiative called Kabul RSVP to study public spaces and propose ways in which they could help rebuild Kabul and restore some of its glory. A strange thing happened during this visit. “I was taking photographs of the city but I didn’t know that my camera was faulty until I returned home to find that all the pictures had been marred by a dark shadow running half way down them. But there was serendipity in the incident because it highlighted the existence of my past within my present. The past was in darkness while my present was bright.” Riaz Mehmood studied engineering at Peshawar University until he finished college and it dawned on him how much he disliked the idea of pursuing a career in engineering. Fortunately for him, an opportunity to migrate to Canada arose and he grabbed it. “I felt a great sense of
freedom. It was like being born anew. I could pursue any career I wished. And
not knowing anyone there was liberating rather than intimidating. I joined
the Ontario College of Art and studied fine art. But when I discovered film
and video, I knew that I had found my forte and my passion. I also came to be
associated with SAVAC (South Asian Visual Arts Center) during my learning
years and that experience enriched me in many ways. I felt the link with a
community of people who had the same goals and aspirations as me and while I
was learning and absorbing, I was a peer in the group and not a student”. One of Mehmood’s projects was a performance piece in which he highlights the role of the uncelebrated sherpa in the many treks to the top of Mt Everest. In the performance, he himself plays the role of the ‘imperialist’ while his western colleagues are the sherpas and they must perform their duty in making his trip as comfortable as possible, holding him aloft and easing his way to the top, to the extent that they must ensure him a hot cup of tea when they reach their destination. At the conclusion of the trek, they are all given certificates saying they have become true sherpas. Mehmood has come home
several times since he left. He says, “My family members back home don’t
understand what I do and why I do it. But then why is that so unusual? I meet
so many people in Canada who cannot comprehend the meaning of performance or
video art. It’s the artists who are marginalised, not the artists in
diaspora.” Monali Meher gained her BFA from the JJ School of Art in Bombay and shortly thereafter she left for a residency in Vienna. “After spending a year there, I knew I wanted to live in Europe for a long time. I learned so much and though it was difficult being on my own I knew it was the most wonderful opportunity for me to become the best I could be in my sphere of understanding and actualisation.” Monali’s performances are not frenzied or frenetic. In fact, they keep a steady quiet pace and continue for long periods of time. “One of my installation performances took up to 12 days!” she recounts. But the passage of time is as important as the message in her work. “I conclude my performance when I feel I have reached the state of mind in which I have found what I set out to look for.” When Monali visited Turkey for a biennale with a group of resident artists, they worked in a prison compound. “There was a ramshackle bus and I wore a sari and stood still on the roof of the bus in the searing heat for four hours, sheltered by little more than a sun umbrella” One of Monali’s more recent works involves the act of wrapping objects of everyday use, like the answering machine or blunted knives with red wool and it is as much the wrapping of the item as the finished product that makes the end result meaningful. “I came home to India on one of my trips, excited by the prospect that I would finally exhibit my work in my own country. But as it turned out, I received very disparaging reviews and felt hurt and unacknowledged. But I know that events like these are forgotten easily when you are truthful about your work and I harbour absolutely no resentment over it.” Khalil Chishtee’s work is so full of angst that one wonders what events may have triggered such deep torment. However, upon learning of the several tragedies that has beset his life, it is hard to imagine why his installations are not more morbid. Chishtee began drawing when his elder sister who was also his surrogate mother passed away and he was unable to exorcise his grief. When his family members discovered his inordinate talent, they were excited at the prospect of his assured fame and fortune. But he defied his father’s wishes and secretly burnt his drawings and refused to join art school. When his father died without having seen his son achieve the success he had so long dreamed of, Chishtee was devastated and to assuage his guilt he joined the NCA and worked his way through his degree and then his teaching career assiduously. “On the first day of drawing class, I noticed a young woman who had a tremendously stupendous aura about her. She captivated me.” That was Ruby who went on to become his wife and with whom he now lives in Sacramento, USA. Chishtee’s works are life-sized figures moulded from trash bags; white, blue or black, with the help only of a heat gun which melts the plastic and gives him the form he desires. “These are all people from my life or human representations of events from my life.” The four artists seem
untroubled by what many would expect to be the travails of the diaspora.
Mehmood, Gaussi and Meher all point out that the idea of the global village
is so strong within art school and the art community that there has been
little chance of being racially discriminated against or even standing out.
Gaussi, in fact laughs at all the times she has seen people gaze at her in
shock on discovering that she is Afghan and not German. On the other hand,
they all quietly agree that living away from home has helped them find new
avenues which they would never have discovered. And the fact that they are so
happy doing what they do proves that they made the right choices in life.
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