Tanu and Kabul

One of the unexpected pleasures of my adventure is meeting people from other lands – and not just Afghanistan. One of the most delightful young women on camp is from India, and her smile could light up a room. Actually, her smile does light up a room. She is pretty and sweet and gentle, and she has been very friendly and kind to me. I think she has worked here for a while, and is in the finance department. It seems to me that she worked for a big name accounting firm somewhere.

Well, I was doing something and turned quickly and knew that I had pulled something in my back. It wasn’t serious, but what followed would probably keep me off the treadmill for a few days – or it should have. I kept thinking that it would get better, and so I tried the treadmill, and that wasn’t very smart. When I was with my yoga group yesterday, I mentioned it, and one of the women suggested that I get in touch with Tanu. I asked why, and it turns out that Tanu practices Reiki, which is a Japanese method of relaxation that uses laying on of hands to effect, and affect, one’s energy. I like to say that it’s kind of like Mr. Miyagi in The Karate Kid; however, Reiki is a much more spiritual endeavor than fixing the Karate Kid so that he could kick the bejeebers out of the big old bully.

What I experienced was total and absolute relaxation, feeling small hands lying without pressure on my back, my shoulders, and, eventually, pressing gently up against my feet. It was if I were having the best massage ever, but both masseuse and client were absolutely quiet and still.

I entered Tanu’s room, which, unlike mine, actually has some character and warmth. I like to think I could add character to my room, too, if I didn’t want to cover everything in plastic to avoid the dust that (here again I defer to Mr. Sandburg) that comes in on little cat feet all the time. My room is bathed in fluorescent bright blue; Tanu’s room has the same kind of lighting, but it seems softer. She has covered a trunk in some puffy things and added some colorful throw pillows, and it looks like a little sofa or love seat covered with bright Indian type fabric. She has turned her mattress upside down, and her bed looks like a real bed with a bedspread and lots of pillows. Tanu even has a bedside lamp. And best of all, Tanu’s room smells good.

She asked me to come in, and then bade me to lie down on her bed any way I felt comfortable. I took off my shoes and lay face down with my arms to my side. Very quietly, she asked me where my back hurt, and I awkwardly touched the place on the right side of my back, about halfway between my spine and my side on that flat bone (and I can’t remember its name!). The next thing I felt was a cool sensation. I could feel both her very small hands right on top of the spot that caught, and they were cool. She left them there, almost weightless against my form, for quite some time, but I don’t know how long. I just felt an overwhelming sense of relaxation, as if I could go to sleep right there.

After a while, she moved her hands to my shoulder blades. She almost immediately asked me if I had pain in my right shoulder. I told her that I did not, at least not right now, but when I have had shoulder problems in the past, they were on my right side. She said nothing, but continued to rest her small, cool hands on my shoulder blades, and my sense of calm and relaxation continued. Eventually, she moved her hands down to my feet, putting one of her hands on the sole of my right foot, and one on the sole of my left foot. Now her hands were hot! Their temperature changed immediately and drastically. I didn’t say anything, but enjoyed feeling the warmth on what were usually my very cold feet.

After a while, I felt her hand on my back again, which couldn’t have been possible because I still felt her hands on the soles of my feet! But I did feel one of her hands on my back, and then realized that on my feet I was still feeling only the warmth of her hands. Her hands on my back were cool again, but not quite as cool as they had been at first.

Too soon, Tanu told me she was through, and that I could rouse myself when I felt ready. I felt ready right away, and slowly got up, not feeling the slightest twinge in my back. I was unsure of what to say, but told her that I felt wonderful and relaxed and energized. I also told her about the varying degrees of temperature in her hands, and she told me that she was experiencing heat from my body. She told me that her mother had been her teacher, and that she felt energized when she touched the people who for some reason or another needed her help.

She then told me that people have physical and emotional pain, and that both are manifested in the human body. Tanu looked at me seriously and told me that when a person feels anger, that emotion hangs in the shoulders, so while I could easily have experienced shoulder pain because of sitting in a bad chair, or spending too much time at the computer, I could also be feeling the pain of my anger over something. I visualized the number of students I have who don’t turn in their papers on time, and, yes! I could feel the pain!

I felt good enough to go to my “flabdominals” group, and was doing just fine until I tried to do something on my side. Guess what? I felt the twinge again, and knew that I had just ruined Tanu’s good work. Fortunately, she had told me that I needed three “treatments” in a row, and so I would have to undergo her laying her hands on me regardless of my mistreatment of my back. But I knew I would have to lay off the treadmill for a couple of days. Well, I will just sleep in until 7:15!

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I got to go to downtown Kabul again yesterday – at least I am going to assume it is downtown. It should be – lots of cars go lots of different directions, and lots of people walk on sidewalks, and the occasional horse-drawn or donkey-drawn wagon carrying fresh produce makes its way through the traffic, and storefronts bathed in dust welcome passers-by. Every now and then, we heard the blare of a car horn and someone yelling, but for the most part, the people driving down all sides of the road do so in silence, always looking to find a space between the cars big enough for them to squeeze into, regardless of which way the traffic is going. I actually saw a cab going the other way on a traffic circle.

Here in Kabul, I have not seen the joyful tuk-tuks, the little enclosed, gaily painted motorcycles that dot the streets of Herat. I have, however seen herds of goats here and there along the roadways, juxtaposed with lines and lines of traffic that would rival a rush hour in any United States city. While most of the women I see wear traditional dress, I have occasionally seen women in light blue burkhas with netting covering their eyes so that can at least see where they are going – or what is coming at them. I have also seen several street vendors selling sunglasses – lots and lots of sunglasses – and for good reason. The sun is extremely bright, and walking in and out of dark, dank buildings mistreats one’s eyes. I have yet to see a woman in traditional dress sporting sunglasses, though.

As we navigate through the streets of Kabul, I am struck with how normal the sights are. Other than the dust, dirt, and dress, we could be in any old, run-down city anywhere where crowds of people and cars abound. But we are not. We are in Afghanistan, and I am far from home.