Adelaide’s Parwana Afghan Kitchen and its
satellite restaurants are a taste of what one
family left behind.NADIA BAILEYdelves
into a history best told through food.
Photography ANDRE CASTELLUCCIA
t the border of Afghanistan and Pakistan,
Farida Ayubi and her husband Zelmai are
being questioned. It’s 1985. Kabul is no
longer safe. The Soviets invaded six years
ago and the country is in lockdown. No one’s allowed
in or out – no one except for the Kuchis, a Pashtun
tribe whose nomadic migrations are permitted even
in times of political turmoil.
Zelmai has forged papers. The papers say that
he, his wife and their young daughters are Kuchis
travelling from Afghanistan to Pakistan for a friend’s
wedding. The girls are laughing, excited – they’re
happy to be dressed in the colourful outfits of the
gypsy tribe, happy to be playing dress-ups. They don’t
realise what’s at stake. The family is stopped by soldiers
every few hours, searched, their papers checked and
rechecked. At a particular checkpoint, one of the
guards is someone they know. He could say something,
blow their cover. But he looks at Zelmai, turns his
head and waves them through.
At the border it’s mountainous and wild. There
are hundreds of soldiers, dogs everywhere. Other
animals as well: goats, sheep, donkeys. The girls have
never seen anything like it. They laugh and squeal.
Farida tries to quiet them, terrified that their excitement
will give them away. Kuchi children grow up around
cattle. Well-off families from Kabul do not.
The border guard looks at Zelmai’s paperwork.
He asks where they’re travelling to.
A wedding, says Zelmai. In Pakistan.
Are you sure? the guard asks. Are you sure you’re
going to a wedding?
Zelmai’s knees go weak. What do you mean?
The dates on your papers are all wrong. You’re out
by two weeks. Your friend’s wedding is already finished.
Zelmai knows this will be their undoing, that he
forgot to update the paperwork – that after coming
so close, they will be turned away.
But the guard looks at him. Just go, he says. I’m
going to rip up these papers. Go, and don’t look back.
The family makes it to a refugee camp in Pakistan.
One month later, they’re able to move into a house
in Peshawar. Eighteen months after that, a relative
arranges sponsorship for Farida, along with her family,
to emigrate to Australia on a skilled migrant visa.
There she will work as a chef.➤GOURMET TRAVELLER 79