of these Kabulis are more or less orphans. They descend into the streets every day to hawk maps, magazines and packages of chewing gum, sometimes resorting to begging and ragpicking or the refined art of pickpocketing. In this vast rooftop district, the talk was not about kidnappings or a looming Taliban takeover. It was about President Karzai’s decree outlawing begging. Karzai had instructed the Interior Ministry to clear the streets of panhandling ragamuffins by trundling them off to orphanages and to the network of Dickensian “care homes” run by the Afghan Red Crescent Society. Nothing came of it, though, which was not a great surprise. It was just another thing to laugh about. Kabulis like a good laugh. And they like to tell jokes.
Two country bumpkins visit Kabul and decide to take in a movie. A cow appears on the screen, and one of the hillbillies gasps, “Watch out, everyone; there’s a cow in the theatre!” The other guy says, “Don’t be silly; it’s just a movie.” Then the first guy says, “Sure, but the cow doesn’t know that.” A mullah is making a spectacle of himself by crying and moaning at the funeral of a rich man. Nobody recognizes the mullah, so somebody asks him, “Were you a close relative?” The mullah says, “No, I’m crying because he was so rich, and I didn’t know him when he was alive.”
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.
