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aftaabmagazine · 6 years ago

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Conversation with Jamil Jan Kochai, author of "99 Nights in Logar"

By Farhad Azad

[caption: The cover of Jamil Jan Kochai debut novel]

Jamil Jan Kochai's multi-layered debut novel 99 Nights in Logar opens inside Afghanistan at a time when Khaled Hosseini first book The Kite Runner was making waves in the US. While Hosseini's story depicts the urban Kabuli perspective, Kochai's narrates the rural Logari experience. The distance between Logar and Kabul maybe a short 45-minute drive, however in many ways, the two places are worlds apart.

In this rural environment, we are guided by the main character, Marwand, a 12-year-old Afghan-American from the capital of California. He is spending his summer vacation in his parent's modest village located near the Logar - Kabul roadway.

Being so young, he is collectively accepted as a local by his large extended family and the people he meets. Marwand, along with his younger male family members, leads several hairy adventures. They organize a disastrous search party to find the fierce family dog, avoid local gunmen, including a couple of young Taliban, and don burqas attempting to join a women's wedding party.

Humorous, tragic, and honest, the novel requires careful reading because the multi-layered stories are intricate and dense. The primary reader is the Afghan-American who will connect more with the native terms and phrases skillfully crafted by the author, along with particular cultural nuances. Through the stories of the different characters— young and old, male and female —Kochai writes an authentic narrative about the people of his native Logar, one of Afghanistan's most picturesque regions— romantically beautiful on the surface and dark and complex on the inside.

I chatted with Jamil Jan Kochai about his novel, here is our conversation.

Farhad Azad: What did your parents think about your desire to be a writer vs. the usual lawyer, doctor, or engineer?

Jamil Jan Kochai: At first, they were definitely resistant to the idea of writing as a career. Up until my third year of undergrad, my father was still trying to convince me to switch to engineering or computer science. For a time, I was able to quell their worries because I'd actually planned to go to law school. But, gradually, as I won a few writing awards at Sac State and eventually became the commencement speaker for my graduating class, both they and I realized that I was much more gifted as a writer than I ever would be as a lawyer. So, after I graduated from Sac State and entered the Masters in Creative Writing Program at UC Davis, my parents began to fully support my creative writing endeavors. They let me interview them for stories, they respected the time I needed to read and write, and they never doubted or scolded me for pursuing such a risky career path. Their faith in my abilities made me work even harder. I read and wrote like a mad man. Alhamdullilah, their support was honestly astonishing. I couldn't have written this novel without them.

Farhad Azad: Were you familiar with Afghan writers and literature growing up?

Jamil Jan Kochai: I was very familiar with Pashtun poetry. My father was an admirer of Rahman Baba, Khushal Khattak, and Ghani Khan. He would often recite their poetry from memory. I was also familiar with some of our local folktales and our more culturally expansive epics. Laila and Majnun, Farhad and Shirin, and those sorts of tales. From an early age, I was taught to appreciate the poetic arts and Afghanistan's literary lineage.

Farhad Azad: Post 9/11, how did you deal with the backlash growing up?

Jamil Jan Kochai: In many ways, I think the backlash, the alienation, and the condemnation I felt in the years after 9/11 only made me prouder to be a Muslim and an Afghan. Even as a young kid, I was very defensive of my cultural heritage and my religious beliefs. I became rebellious. I would argue with my teachers about Afghan and American history. I questioned what I was taught in high school, and by the time I got to college, I had this immense curiosity about all these differing but interconnecting lineages of imperialism and warfare. By studying the American War in Afghanistan, I learned about the civil wars, the Soviet Invasion, and the Anglo-Afghan Wars, which led me to study the broader histories of colonization and imperialism throughout the world. This all had a profound impact on my writing.

Farhad Azad: There are many stories told by the various characters in 99 Nights in Logar, how did you decide to include them in the work?

Jamil Jan Kochai: I realized that my stories themselves can encapsulate all these other stories. There was this moment when I was writing the novel itself when I hit this barrier in the road, and I didn't know what would happen next. Once I realized that we had this rich tradition of oral storytelling and all these stories within my own family, I sort of allowed the characters in the novel to tell their own stories. That's when the project really hit its stride.

Farhad Azad: Afghans have a habit of not finishing their stories which you included in your work.

Jamil Jan Kochai: It is sort of magical in that way. When I first started this project, I would interview my father. It was really important to me that I recorded some of his stories from his life, but I would try to do this chronologically, starting with his childhood. But it was difficult trying to get stories out of him. He would say, "Oh, I had a regular childhood."

I couldn't get the details I wanted. Later on, we'd be sitting somewhere. We would be drinking tea, and he would see something on TV. It would remind him of this beautiful, incredible story from his life that he didn't mention to me in my interview. And he would tell the story and stop at some place, often times a place where it would be emotionally difficult for him to continue the story. It would be about a significant loss, and he would have to stop. It took me a while to be patient with his stories, to learn that certain stories didn’t always have pleasant resolutions, that some stories you had to piece together, a memory at a time, like a puzzle.

Farhad Azad: Telling stories is a quality that Afghans possess, including the ability to describe anything in very fine detail.

Jamil Jan Kochai: It's incredible. I remember on a trip with my aunt to Yosemite, and out of nowhere, just because of the mountains and the forest, she started to tell us the story of when she escaped out of Logar during the war, going through the mountains between Afghanistan and Pakistan to escape to Peshawar. She told this incredibly detailed story of carrying her little sister through the mountains and then getting lost. Then my father is eventually finding them on horseback. Then she remembers calling my father's name and the echoes coming back to her through the mountain. It was so visual, and it was so essential at the same time. It really made me appreciate it. At a storytelling level, how talented my family members are at telling stories.

Farhad Azad: For the past two decades you have traveled to Logar, but your trips to the region have shortened in length.

Jamil Jan Kochai: When I first went to Logar, I was 6 years old, I had all these really precious magical, memories of swimming in these streams, with my cousin, these were some of my greatest memories. When I came back from Logar, I was telling everyone how really beautiful Afghanistan was. And everyone was so surprised that my reaction to the time because the Taliban were in control. So everyone had this very grim vision of Afghanistan. I was telling everyone how much I loved it and how beautiful and incredible experience. And then I went back when I was 12, and it was again an incredible experience with some of the most precious memories that I still have is from that summer that I spent in Afghanistan those three months especially in Logar.

Then I had the opportunity to go back in 2012, but it just seemed like progressively Logar was becoming more and more dangerous. And so when I went back in 2012, the security situation hadn't completely deteriorated, but it was a very murky situation. During the day, government forces were in control and then at night, the Taliban had control over the village. And I had to be very careful about speaking because of my accent, I had to be careful about telling people who I was and where I was from. Nonetheless, I still got to spend a decent amount of time. I was 19. I spent a great deal of time in my grandfather's orchard. I spend a great deal of time with my cousins. It was another beautiful experience.

But when I went back in 2017, by then the security situation in my village had gotten so bad that even villagers who had lived their whole lives there were afraid to go back because of the gunfights and the executions and the bombings and these things had become almost a daily occurrence.

My uncles and cousins, who had seen war and gone through warfare, they were completely afraid to enter Logar. They wouldn't allow me to spend a night in Logar. My father, brother, and cousins, and I ended up taking a very short trip through my home village. The whole village had been emptied out because one of the militias had shot a rabid dog with a machine gun. Everyone thought it was a gunfight. We entered my father's village, and it was a ghost town. We drove in, and there was this incredibly heart-wrenching experience. My father's cousin, who had grown up in Logar and my father looked afraid. But we were determined to visit the grave of my father's brother, and other family members' graves. We said our prayers, and we came out as quickly as we came.

I just remembered being incredibly saddened by the way that the security situation in Logar had developed. My father's village has been so precious to me. The security situation has deteriorated to the point where I'm not able to visit anymore and spend time anymore. Logar has fallen into tragic circumstances. It has made me want to tell the stories of Logar even more. It has made my storytelling even more urgent.

Farhad Azad: Today on social media, we see thousands of beautiful photos from all over Afghanistan, but these places, more or less, are intangible to experience.

Jamil Jan Kochai: Thinking back on these memories, these precious times I had in Logar, it really feels like that beauty I had experienced had been lost to war in this very concrete way. Looking back at these memories, I have access to this time in this land that is almost lost to me now.

Farhad Azad: Your novel you have incorporated the stories of almost every character.

Jamil Jan Kochai: That was really important to me when starting the project was that I tried to get as many differing and diverse voices as possible into the novel and into my stories because I didn't want it to just be this kid from America coming into Afghanistan and just telling everything from his point of view. I was trying to find a way how I could resist that and how I could tell as many different stories, I can capture as many different voices as possible. Once I realized that the main tool I had was of the storytelling and allowing the other characters to tell their stories. And Marwand [the main character] listens to and absorbs the world and not always talking. And so I did I went into the novel with this with a very specific goal.

Particularly Afghan women voices, which can often time in our culture can be overwhelmed by men's voices and particularly telling these voices of the story of people but particularly women living in these rural spaces. I'm trying to try to understand these stores and trying to understand their lives and try and understand the particular ways that they live, grow, and suffer.

The novel was expansive in its abilities to tell different stories and perceptions and point of views. I was really concerned that I was able to capture these different perceptions and point of views. And one thing that I did when I finished writing, I showed it to different Afghan women, who identified as Pashtun or Tajik or whatever else, because I didn't want it to be to just be a book about an Afghan American boy seeing the world. I wanted it to be about different versions of Afghanistan culminated to this one narrative, which I think is one of the biggest problems of how Afghanistan is always understood-- about one narrative about terrorism, about one narrative about oppression or one narrative about violence. It seems to me there is beauty, and beauty of the complexity of just a small village. Often times it isn't crafted.

Farhad Azad: You clearly describe the nuances of the people, down to the standards of beauty.

Jamil Jan Kochai: With so many aspects of Afghan culture, so many aspects of our society and country, we are constantly being put into these boxes.

"This is the conservative mullah who beats his wife." "This is the wine drinking musician and who is doing drugs." "This is the oppressed women who never spoke up for herself."

It was very important to me to unpackage those boxes that our people are being put into and understand the complexity of it at the same time, maintaining a sense of realism.

Women in villages and in Logar are often times oppressed by men. And they go through severe abuse. They go through these incredibly traumatic events in their lives. It was important for me to demonstrate that. But I also wanted to show the ways that these men at the same time because of poverty, because of war, because of whatever else are living painful, traumatic lives themselves. Often times the trauma you see in villages, there are larger, more complex reasons for these things that are occurring. And it was very important for me to demonstrate and show that these are very real in Afghanistan.

Insurgents can oftentimes also be incredibly young men. Just boys on the brink of becoming men.

I was heartbroken by that, and I feel that is a side of Afghanistan, that isn't often demonstrated. There is an incredible amount of nuance to all these figures, stereotypes, and cliches that we have put on Afghanistan. That there are reasons-- historically, politically, socially -- people end up becoming the way they are. I don't know how successful I was in the novel, but that is something I was trying to do.

Farhad Azad: Please talk about the shape shifter character Jawad who seems to match many of the political and militant personalities in Afghan history.

Jamil Jan Kochai: That character specifically came out of a story that I heard one day when I was at my uncle's house. This is in 2012. I visited my uncle in Logar, and over dinner, one of my uncle's brother-in-law's brought up this guy named Jawid who was on the run from the Taliban because he was impersonating a Taliban and had been working for the government forces. He was a spy. He was also running away from the government forces because he was spying on them too. He was putting these two groups against each other. He became kind of a folk legend in the villages because no one could capture him. I found this character so incredibly fascinating. He became this figure of fluidity, like you said, a shape shifter, one day he is Talib and the next day he is a government soldier, the next day he is a civilian and the next day he is donning a burqa pretending to be a woman. He was a figure who disrupted the usual categorizations placed on Afghans, this "black and white" of government vs. rebels, revolution vs. order, however, you want to categorize it. By showing figures that are constantly moving back and forth, I wanted to demonstrate how it is not always so simple to be able to relegate people into one group or another. There is an incredible amount of fluidity and shapeshifting, these gray areas in war. I was trying to get Jawid to sort of embody that.

Farhad Azad: The maze is a central piece to the novel. For me, it symbolized the complex history of Afghanistan.

Jamil Jan Kochai: Definitely, the history of Afghanistan was an important part of it. When I was thinking about the maze, I was specifically thinking about the geography of my village, which has these mazes, alleyways and compounds build close to each other. I was also thinking about the stories my father told about these tunnels built underneath the compounds during bombings. The Russians had figured out what the Afghans were doing to avoid their bombs and so they began to use gas. There were tunnels in Logar filled with dead bodies. During the Soviet war, Logar was sort of turned into a ghost town. And now new buildings are being built upon these sites of these massacres.

So when I was thinking of the land itself, it seemed to me that there were so many layers of trauma, massacres, and history. And these stories that were buried right underneath the earth, locked inside of the ground. So much of these stories have been lost. The maze sort of embodies the bits and pieces of the history of Logar, but also of Afghanistan at large, that have been sort of lost to time but are still buried in the earth. Somewhere ready to be found.

Farhad Azad: In modern Afghan history, there have been two versions of Afghanistan: Kabul and everywhere else. Your novel touches on the dichotomy between rural vs. urban.

Jamil Jan Kochai: I wish I had given more time to Kabul. In my last two visits, I've spent most of my time in Kabul and I have come to appreciate Kabul as a city. But coming from the rural area of Logar, my family came to despise Kabul in a way. We felt that the urban people of Kabul were living in their own world, their own universe. Although our village in Logar was maybe a 40-minute drive from Kabul, it was still its own world. The people in rural Afghanistan lives are just built around the compound, the crops and local forms of government, that all the goings-on and incredible events happening in Kabul wasn't touching them in a very real way. My father told me that it wasn’t until the Communists took over and repressive measures were being laid out in the countryside, in Logar, that people felt the shift in the country.

It was fascinating to me that the perception and the stories and viewpoints that were coming out of Kabul were the ones that ended up getting the most light shown on them. We talked earlier about "The Kite Runner." I remember reading it, and it was an important novel to me, I'm not sure if I would have pursued writing without having read The Kite Runner first. But it didn't feel like my own vision of Afghanistan, my experience of Afghanistan wasn't really captured in that novel because it was centered upon Kabul and not the countryside.

And that kind of became inspiring to me in an odd way, my experience of Afghanistan, my family's experience in Afghanistan, and rural Afghanistan it hasn't had its own light and its own time to share its stories. That was one of my goals in the novel was to demonstrate life in Afghanistan and to show this very complex relationship between the urban and the rural and the how the political and economic roles of Logar and Kabul were deeply intertwined and yet encapsulated in their own worlds.

Farhad Azad: You also show the various levels of how Islam is embraced within a family.

Jamil Jan Kochai: Practicing Islam, praying, and reading and studying the Quran was such an important part of who I am, and it was such an important part of how I understood the world. I wanted to show how people practice and struggled with faith. And ultimately my goal was to show the struggle, even the struggling with Islam is in its own way very beautiful.

Farhad Azad: One chapter is written entirely in Pashto.

Jamil Jan Kochai: That was a story my father told verbatim to a scribe in Pashto. My father gave it to me. I gave it to my editor and told them that I want it to be part of the novel. I wanted to stay in Pashto, true to my father's voice.

Farhad Azad: Thank you for the time in speaking with me.

Jamil Jan Kochai: It was an absolute pleasure.