Working out all the rage in Afghanistan
With freedom comes the desire to sculpt rock-hard physiques
Declan Walsh, Chronicle Foreign Service
Friday, November 26, 2004
Kabul -- In the old days, Afghanistans tough guys wore beards and wool caps,
studied the Quran and fought flinty mountain battles against rival tribes and
foreign invaders.
These days, its all waxed chests, cheesy grins, bulging biceps and a quiet
reverence for the governor of California.
"People dont want to fight anymore. They want to look healthy, like in the
movies," said Temour Shah, a beefy 23-year-old, as he pumped weights under an
Arnold Schwarzenegger poster at Golds Gym in central Kabul.
Bodybuilding is the new craze of postwar Afghanistan, particularly among
young urban men. According to the national bodybuilding federation, the number
of gyms in Kabul has doubled to 46 in the past two years; another 30 are
scattered across the country.
Starting at 5 a.m., bodybuilding veterans and weedy wannabes crowd into
sweaty halls across the city, grappling with clanking weight machines and
preening before cracked mirrors. Conditions are spartan - water coolers, neat
white towels and even showers are unknown luxuries - but enthusiasm runs high.
Barely able to afford the $7 monthly membership, some enthusiasts work out in
their baggy shalwar kameez trousers; others use their work clothes.
"Everyone wants to look strong, but the problem is calories. Most clients
just dont have access to enough food," said Hafizullah Anis, the 26-year-old
owner of Golds Gym. To help his poorer clients, Anis offers free protein
supplements bought through the military supply story at Bagram air base, north
of Kabul. "This is not just about business," he said.
The streets of Kabul are covered with images of Ahmed Shah Massood, the
anti-Taliban warlord who was elevated to the status of national hero after his
assassination Sept. 9, 2001. But inside the gyms, the governor of California is
king.
"I studied Schwarzeneggers career carefully," said Noorulhoda Sherzad,
current holder of the Mr. Kabul title. "He achieved everything he wanted. I have
dreams, too."
The 28-year-old dentistry student started bodybuilding under the Taliban,
when the sport was tolerated, but just barely.
"The competitions were ridiculous," said Sherzad. "You could only show your
top. And of course you had to have a beard."
Like many, he said his ambitions were sparked by movies such as "Conan the
Destroyer" and "Terminator." But he won his coveted crown through a combination
of strict diet, daily workouts and careful study of Mr. Olympia videos.
"I would watch the poses and select the best ones -- no mirror, just on my
own," he said with a smile.
The gradual advent of peace has fuelled the surge in fitness. Refugees have
been returning from Pakistan with bodybuilding expertise, money and weight
machines.
Ariz Arzo, one of the Afghanistans original weightlifting aficionados, owns
a run-down gym in a crumbling building overlooking the dried-out, rubbish-
strewn Kabul River. With no electricity or toilet facilities, the former
dentists office is basic even by local standards.
Some of the weights are fashioned from old engine parts and rough concrete
molds. Arzo proudly displays his first exercise machine -- a homemade
contraption of weights, hooks and pulleys that resembles, at first glance, an
elaborate torture device.
But it is the spirit, not the dumbbells, that counts, insists Arzo, a
smiling, stocky man in his 50s. He still boasts 150 "students," of whom the
poorest work out for free.
"I am one of the originals. They come to me for my experience," he boasted
beside a pouting portrait of himself on a podium in the 1970s.
Bodybuilding is a natural sport for a culture that prizes machismo. Boxing,
tae kwon do and dog fighting are other popular pastimes. The national sport,
buzkashi, involves two teams on horseback whacking each other while hauling a
headless calf carcass around a field.
After a quarter century of conflict, the relatively peaceful presidential
election last month has excited hopes that the days of conscripting the
countrys strong young men into fighting are over. Today, "our gun is our
muscle," said Ahmad Ranjber, a police officer and gym owner.
The body-conscious vogue also reflects slowly widening freedoms. Social norms
still prevent boys and girls from mingling in public, but many younger
bodybuilders coyly admit they hope to impress the opposite sex.
"I am exercising for the big body, so the girls like me," said Feroz Khan, a
20-year-old truck driver at Bagram Air Base, taking a break from his first
workout. He boasted in broken English that he has an American girlfriend called
Nikita, sparking sniggers of disbelief from his friends. "I am a love man. I am
not for arranged marriage," he insisted.
There is one notable absence from the cramped gym halls. Women are still
forbidden, by custom if not by law.
"We had three girls working out in my gym but they got scared and left," said
Fazal Ahmad, secretary general of the Afghan Bodybuilding Federation. "Some
extremists were saying bad things about them."
A small number of female athletes work out in private, but they "would not
want to be interviewed," he added. "They are not ready for that yet."
Regrettably, the unsavory side of modern sport has also infected
Afghanistans bodybuilding fervor. The prestigious Mr. Afghanistan title lies
vacant since controversy engulfed the contest in September. There was a "small
problem" with one of the finalists explained Ahmad, who was one of the judges.
"We suspected him of doping," Ahmad said. "Nobody thought he could have built
himself up so fast."