A young couple are smiling across the table at each other and whispering over their coffee. They are closer together than many people would find appropriate in a conservative Muslim country.
Instead of carpets, abstract paintings hang on the walls; instead of glaring lights, the place is lit by soft lamps painted gold on the inside.
If this were New York or Berlin, it would be nothing unusual. But in Kabul, the capital of Afghanistan, it’s revolutionary.
The Burger Shop on Taimani Street is one of a few dozen such cafes that have recently sprung up in the city, where young people have traditionally socialised almost exclusively in a family setting.
The owner is Humajun Sadran, a tall 39-year-old with a grey beard, aviator sunglasses and a leather jacket.
Sadran is something like the grand master of entertainment in Kabul.
In the good old days, when thousands of foreigners working at embassies, NGOs and the UN lived here, he founded one nightlife project after the other. His dance parties were legendary.
But because the security situation has become so bad again, the foreigners are gone. Now, his customers are almost only Afghans.
“Just a few years ago, it would have been impossible to have a cafe like the Burger Shop in Afghanistan,” Sadran says.
The customers wouldn’t have been able to afford it, and the mentality wasn’t there either, he says.
But now, for the first time after decades of conflict and poverty, Sadran has started to observe a small Afghan middle class among his customers.
A whole new generation of young Afghans have grown up in Kabul, studied and seen a bit of the world, he says. They have filled the NGO and government positions vacated by the foreigners. They have salaries of up to 1,500 dollars — which means that paying 350 afghani (4 dollars) for a burger is no longer out of the question.
Afghanistan has a population of more than 30 million. However, the country’s cafe culture is limited to the capital, and to young people aged 18-30.
Some of the cafes — like the chic Cupcake — look suspiciously similar to Starbucks. Others have a more home-grown touch, such as 451, which is decorated with newspaper clippings, rather than art, because the students who set it up had so little money, they had to be creative.
There’s not much to choose from on the menu, but a notice on a blackboard offers guitar lessons. Customers can leave their own notes on a pinboard — seeking friendship, love, study groups — essentially, attempts to create a community.
These projects are a refuge for the micro-generation caught somewhere between youth emancipation and the traditions of their elders; between the first few thousand career women and the confinement of women to the home.
In all of the cafes, girls and boys sit next to each other — something that would be an offence punishable by stoning in other parts of the country, and is still frowned upon even in some areas of Kabul.
“Some of us have a certain freedom today, but apart from the cafes, there are hardly any places to live it out — especially for women,” says Sahra Nasemi, 27, who is sitting in a cafe called Simple on a spring morning. The walls are painted with bright colours, and the customers sit at homemade wooden tables and benches.
“There are only a few parks, and they are full of men and rubbish,” she continues. Gyms and other sports clubs are mostly not open to women — and traditional teahouses are certainly not.
Nasemi lives a life that no longer fits the traditional template. She is divorced, works full time as a journalist and lives alone. Every morning at 7 am, she goes to English class before work. She has no time to cook, so she comes to Simple for eggs and a pot of tea.
That costs her 170 Afghani — second family included. A family of like-minded people.
A young architect in jeans and a wool cap at the next table chips in: “I can trust the other people in here.” What he means is that he can trust them not to dismiss his life as strange or reprehensible in a close-knit society where many depend on what other people think.
The architect couldn’t find a job in his field. He spends his time creating online tutorials for young people who want to learn something new, and places them on the internet.
His family doesn’t think it’s a decent job.
As he opens up his laptop to show one of his videos, there is a power failure — a common occurrence in the district. Homes are plunged into darkness. But here, a small generator starts rattling outside, and the cafe becomes an oasis of light. – dpa
