For kite fighters of Afghanistan, the string's the thing
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KABUL, Afghanistan — Nour Aga's passion for kite fighting survived a five-year Taliban ban, a stint in jail to be re-educated in the hardline Islamic regime's rules, and the destruction of everything he owned.
Hours after the Taliban abandoned the capital on Nov. 13, Aga and his buddies were back again — dueling their colorful fighter kites in the air above Babrak's Desert Field in northwest Kabul.
The competition is slow and beautiful, but it's also serious business. The idea is to cut the string of your opponent's kite before he can cut yours, and Aga and the other professional kite fighters wager about $5 per match — a hefty sum in a country where most people live hand-to-mouth.
Most kite battles are in Kabul on Friday afternoons. The duel takes place about 400 feet in the air with some kites as large as 4 feet long, but the most important part is hours earlier when competitors prepare their strings for battle. The spun-cotton thread is made stronger by painstakingly coating it with ground glass and glue, and the finished product is dangerously sharp.
"The string is all important," said Mohammed Sadiq, 58, regarded at Babrak's Desert Field as the champion of champions. But Sadiq, who sat near Aga surrounded by several friends drinking tea and making bets, said the game is mostly mental. "The trick is to anticipate what your opponent is going to do next. A great champion sees his opponent's moves before they happen."
Once a competitor's string is cut — which can take more than an hour — the detached kite slowly drifts down toward the field, where an army of small children scrambles for a piece of it.
"My father was a kite fighter, and my grandfather before him and I have been a kite fighter since I was knee high," said Aga, now 43. "This is my passion and my profession. Kites allow me to eat and survive."
They also got him in trouble.
Two years ago, Aga was caught by the Taliban's vice and virtue police flying a kite from the roof of his home. The police found his clandestine kite shop and burned it to the ground, he said. They then threw Aga in jail for two weeks, where he was drilled on the evils of kite fighting.
"I lost everything. Everything in the world," he said.
But nothing could take away his love for the sport.
"The Taliban left at 2 a.m. and at 9 a.m. I was flying my kites," Aga said.