Today I took a few hours off work to visit the master kite maker, Nur Agha, son of Bejo, the famous Kabuli kite maker.
One of his friends, Zilgai, owner of a few kite shops in Shor Bazaar, agreed me to take me to Nur Agha. He warned me that it was a special privilege. Normally Nur Agha didn’t like receiving people. But even though the master had been sick the day before, he had finished the kite I had requested from him, and that apparently conferred sufficient status on me to be granted a visit.
He lives on the mountainslope above the old city, where Kabulis must have squatted for centuries.
Zilgai leads me down the path towards Nur Agha’s house. I first meet the master’s two youngest sons. I try chatting with them as the house’s guestroom and courtyard are cleared of women.
Nur Agha’s little house lies at the edge of a cemetery.
Given the kitemaker’s international fame and his high productivity (up to 40 kites a day) I had expected to find several people working for him.
But he works alone in a squalid little house halfway up the mountain, near Asheqan wa Arefan. He also lives there with his two wives, five sons and nine daughters. His eldest son is about 16. His sons and daughters help him, and he’s decided to transfer his skills to them, not to people foreign to his family. The only student he ever had turned against him when he had acquired Bejo’s skills.
He can easily sell his kites at the US Embassy for 150 $ (going rate in town is 200-300 Afs, about 4.50 $) and he’s been invited to go with his sons to the USA for a museum show; but he turned down the invitation, possibly to avoid the hassle of getting passports, and he says he turns off his phone because of the continuous requests by inventive PR officers from ISAF and USAID projects, Korean TV journalists, French artists, etc. etc.
He rather focus on making his kites. He’s the only son of the great master kitemaker, Bejo, who’s kept alive his father’s fame. Since his uncle, also a recognized master, passed away a few months ago, he’s the only kitemaker with that name. He says he has made more than 1000 designs, which all come from his head. He rarely twice makes the same kite. He considers himself an artist, and thus justifies his lack of interest in worldly affairs.
I came to see him to discuss an artistic project; in the meanwhile he was making a kite.
I finally receive this kite as a gift for my eldest son Tito. We will fly it together on the beach of The Hague.
We then chat (over a glass of water) about life and art and the state of the world. The kitemaker shows me photos of his other creations, including the skull & bones below.
We promise to meet again when the kites I’ve commissioned are ready.
Great!!!