CHAPTER XI
LIFE OF EUROPEANS IN KABUL
Life in Kabul—Houses and gardens—Guards and danger from “Ghazis”—Allowances given wives—Servants and swindling.
I have often been asked, “But didn’t you find it lonely in Kabul?” and in giving an affirmative answer, the memory of the many weary hours spent alone after worktime is always brought back to me. In the loneliness of life in Kabul lies its worst feature, and the effect on one of living such a life for several years is far from beneficial, but the extent of the ill effect produced is not properly estimated until one returns to civilization. There is no social intercourse between the Afghans and Europeans, the utmost in this way being a ceremonious call, on some feastday, by those who are well disposed towards the English, and this is generally a compliment for which a substantial return is expected by those who pay it.
The loneliness is worse in the winter than in the summer, for then the days are short, and the evenings from four o’clock until bedtime seem interminable, and it gets worse as the winter progresses, for there is little to make time pass but read, and one gets tired of that when there is nothing else to do for several hours each day, and especially so when there is seldom a new book to read. I used to welcome work which necessitated the preparation of plans and drawings, because I could do these after nightfall and make the time pass more quickly; and when all else failed as a means of amusement, I got one of the clocks and took it to pieces and cleaned it, and otherwise damaged it. Another work I left for the evening was the analysis of ores which were sent from all parts of the country to the Amir, who passed them on to me, and I was glad of them as a means of making time pass. Altogether it is very different to what it is in India or England, where the evenings may be passed pleasantly in so many ways.
In Kabul there is no amusement that one does not make for one’s self, and there is not much to make amusement out of, unless one cares to make a joke of tragedies. On Fridays and holidays the day may be spent in shooting, for most of the summer months quail and blue pigeon can be got in the fields outside the city, and in the winter there are plenty of duck and snipe to be found on the chamans. The chamans are flat stretches of ground in the valleys, which are partly covered with water, where grass and weed abound for water-fowl. The birds, though, are very much hunted, and are consequently very wild; but they afford the better sport on that account, as being much more difficult to shoot. The late Mr. Fleischer, who was in Kabul during the last three years I spent there (he was murdered by the officer of his Afghan escort on his way to India in November, 1904), used to join me on Fridays, and we made a practice of spending the day on the chamans. We used to take eight or ten sepoys with us, as a guard is always necessary, and the men were useful for putting up the game, and we also had lunch brought out to us with kettles and other things necessary to make tea, so that we could picnic on the shooting-ground comfortably, and although we seldom got a decent “bag,” the sport was a welcome variation to the daily routine of life. In the springtime, when the duck and snipe shooting was over, and the quail had not come in, we fixed up running targets for rifle practice. The target consisted of a life-sized representation of leopard or deer, roughly daubed on paper, which was nailed to an upright frame fixed on a light trolly. A man using a long rope dragged this trolly over a short length of narrow-gauge rail, while running at full speed, and in front of the trolly run we made a fence of young trees, so that the target could be seen at intervals only. This made very good practice at eighty to a hundred yards for snap shooting. When tired of rifle practice, we used to take the native circular net and go fishing up the river. The fish obtainable in the river near Kabul are few and small, and one must go up the river for some miles if decent sized ones are wanted, so that we seldom got fish more than three inches in length, but although those we netted were small, they were of a good flavour and resembled whitebait when cooked. The larger the fish were the less flavour they had.
In the early part of my stay in Kabul I used to go for long rides about the country, generally unattended, for those were the days when Amir Abdur Rahman was full of vigour, and it was deemed unwise to meddle with one of his “Feringhees.” I found, however, that I got enough riding in the ordinary course of my work, so after a time, I gave it up. Then I got a bicycle, and used to ride about the country around on that; but this, too, eventually became uninteresting when there was nothing fresh to see and the rides had no objective, and the day’s work also was sufficient to keep me in good health so far as exercise went. I afterwards spent most of my time during the evening in the garden, except when there was quail shooting to be had in the fields close by, and I also found that for two hours before sunset numbers of blue pigeon used to fly over the garden in twos and threes, returning to their sleeping place from the fields and mountains, where they had been out feeding all day, and as this offered good amusement within easy reach, I spent most of the evenings, when I had nothing better to do, sitting in the garden waiting until one or another came within range. They afforded good practice, for blue pigeon fly fast, and, coming from in front and flying over one’s head, they were more difficult to hit than birds flying past on one side or the other. We also made a tennis court, and during the last two years were able to play most days until winter set in. One can play tennis in Kabul until nearly the end of December, when the snow begins to fall and stops further play until the following April.
The house I had was one with six rooms below and six above. All the windows faced an inner courtyard, round the other sides of which ran the kitchen and servants’ quarters, stables, hamam, etc.; I had windows made on the outer side of the house also, so that I could not only get a view of the garden, but make the back rooms light enough to live in. The house was originally the harem serai in which some of Amir Shere Ali’s wives lived, and it is the custom in building houses intended for the use of women to leave the outer walls without windows to ensure greater privacy. The windows are therefore always on the side which faces the inner courtyard. For the same reason the roofs of the houses, which are flat and are used by the women to enjoy the air in the evening, have a high wall round them so that they may not be seen by other men.
We all had gardens attached to the houses given us, and mine was a large one; the house, too, was a large one, and was situated on the outskirts of the city near Deh Afghanan, where there is land in plenty. I took a good deal of interest in the garden, and grew all sorts of vegetables: potatoes, cabbage, cauliflower, cucumbers, melons, celery, asparagus, tomatoes, peas, beans, and other vegetables; all did well in it. I also grew strawberries, of which fine crops of large fruit were yielded. But I got little or no fruit from the trees in the garden, for the seven Kotwali sepoys who formed the guard on the outer gate of the house most of the time I was there, took care to make away with all fruit as it ripened, and as they did so at night or while I was away on my work I was unable to fasten the guilt on them, for although I cared little who had the fruit I was annoyed at it being stolen.
On one occasion I saw a single apple left in the thickest part of the foliage of one of the trees, and I sarcastically told the sepoys with me that I looked upon that apple as my share of the fruit, but I would leave it on the tree for a few more days until it ripened, and I asked them to see that it was left untouched. They said, “Ba chashim” (on my eyes be it); but the next day it was gone, and although all denied having touched it, no one but themselves had access to the garden. I mention this to show that the Kotwali sepoys cannot leave untouched anything they can put their hands on, provided there is a probability of the thief remaining undetected. On another occasion they stole the bridle of my horse, and as this was serious, for I had but one, I summoned the guard with their havildar (sergeant), and told them of the theft, but said I would wait until the morning, and if it was not found by that time I should report the matter to the Amir. Early the following morning one of the sepoys found the bridle lying in some long grass in the garden, and, as proof, showed me the spot where he had found it. I said that I had long suspected that there was a shaitan (spirit or devil) about the house who was in the habit of mislaying articles belonging to me, and it was fortunate that I knew it, for otherwise I might think that the sepoys stole the things, and bring “budnami” (ill reputation) on them. They looked at me undecided whether I spoke sarcastically or meant it, but it was a long time before anything else was stolen from the house.