 |
Afghan Bodybuilders Pump Iron Amid War; 'Arnold' IdolizedDate: 12.06.2007
Posted by: Anabolic Info Team
KABUL, Afghanistan -- Based on total signage space, Arnold Schwarzenegger may be the second most popular man in Afghanistan.
First place indisputably goes to Ahmed Shah Massoud, the mythic guerilla leader assassinated by al-Qaeda agents in 2001 after decades of fighting the Soviets and the Taliban. His image is venerated with a fervor that borders on the religious in government ministries, street side cafes and on bumper stickers.
But take a drive around the capital known for its modesty, and massive homemade billboards of the shirtless former Mr. Olympia turned action star turned California governor are hard to miss. The message is clear: Afghans are getting pumped up.
"Bodybuilding is fashion today," said Yasar Ahmedzai, 20, a local journalist and recent devotee. "Life is so much better when you look strong and are in good shape."
While billions in U.S. dollars feed a reconstruction hamstrung by official corruption and a resurgent Taliban, young Afghan men fortify their bodies for whatever the future might bring to this war-torn country. Some even wax their chests.
Today, there are more than 100 gyms around the same city where six years ago kite flying was illegal and the soccer stadium was an execution venue.
None are as famous as Gold Gym, Kabul's first. Ask for directions and everyone -- from traffic cops to fruit merchants -- knows the place, or at least has their own version of where to find it. Meet its bighearted founder, Bawar Khan Hotak, and it's easy to understand why.
At 6'5", 290 pounds, with a superhero's jaw line and hands like sledgehammers, he is quite literally the pillar of Afghan bodybuilding. But had his passion for the sport not exceeded his considerable size, the phenomenon may never have been born.
Bawar, a former heavyweight wrestler, began lifting seriously during the darkest days of the Taliban reign. In 2000, he entered Kabul's first bodybuilding championship; strict rules meant that competitors had to abide by a "no shorts, only trousers" policy, he said, although they were permitted the indiscretion of taking their shirts off.
He won. And to the ire of the ultra-fundamentalist regime, he was a crowd favorite. Revved up audience members threw money on stage in a traditional gesture of approval that earned him a two-month stint behind bars "for making people happy," as he put it with a wide grin.
But prison didn't sap Bawar's resolve. With the fall of the Taliban two years later, he decided to open the gym he'd always wanted and he named it after the original in Venice, California, where his Austrian-born hero trained in the cult bodybuilding film, "Pumping Iron."
"During the Taliban time, I dreamt about the future and how when peace and stability came I would make a modern equipped gym," Bawar said. "When they left I was the only one to invest; others were buying vehicles to leave. I bought weight equipment for the next generation."
More or less.
At first, he and his friends poured cement into metal cans connected by steel rods to make barbells. Derelict Soviet tanks were stripped of parts and bent into improvised weight machines by local welders -- an ironic twist in which the weapons of war were refashioned to strengthen the very people they once targeted.
He even spent two weeks sewing seat covers for his equipment. It paid off.
Step inside the sour-smelling space any afternoon these days and you'll rub shoulders with a throng of muscle-bound Afghans aged 15-50 making use of imported, if rusty, equipment, along with the requisite wall-to-wall mirrors.
The sight of a foreign journalist's camera incited a frenzy of flexing and shouting beneath yellowed posters of current Mr. Olympia favorites Jay Cutler and Ronnie Coleman. And, of course, Arnold.
Abdul Hadiqubadi, 27, pays about $6 in monthly dues to work out when he has free time away from his job at a U.N. agency. Some of the guys tease him a bit for "being like Arnold" -- meaning he's getting soft because he has a day job that gets in the way of serious training -- though he says it's a small price to pay to workout alongside some of Afghanistan's best beefcakes.
"There are bigger gyms," he said, "but this is the best. All the champions and top trainers lift here."
Noorulhada Shirzad, winner of both the Mr. Kabul and Mr. Afghanistan titles and national team coach, has traveled as far as South Korea for international competitions. His business card reads: "The Most Advance Body Builder in Afghanistan."
"My first objective was to one day be Mr. Afghanistan," he said, his blue jeans stretched by beer-keg thighs. "Later, American films had their own effect on me. . . . I saw that having a good body is to be well known among people, so this has been my goal."
The Mr. Kabul competition is held every July in a dank movie house in Kabul's Shar-e-naw district. More than two thousand people attended last year's showdown, Bawar estimates, with almost twice as many turned back at the door. The winner moves onto to the Mr. Afghanistan in August and international competitions in the fall.
Surging violence in Afghanistan's southern and eastern provinces has not slowed the sport's growth either.
As president of the National Bodybuilding Federation, Bawar travels the country to meet other coaches, hold workshops and organize competitions and he says there may be over 550 gyms across the country. One of last year's Mr. Afghanistans, Aziz Ahmad Nikyar, lives in Helmand province, now the worst hotbed of the Taliban insurgency.
With such a robust following, doesn't the government help fund and develop the sport? Bawar and Noorulhada shake their heads and laugh.
"Iran and Pakistan are well equipped; if we can't have as much as them we at least shouldn't be far worse off. But we get nothing from [the government]," Bawar groaned. A framed photo of him shaking hands with President Hamid Karzai hangs in his office.
Over the past 70 years, Afghanistan has participated in 12 Olympic Games but has never qualified in weightlifting -- a record Bawar attributes to a lack of sponsorship given the success of neighboring countries.
Meanwhile, it costs about $2,000 a month to keep the gym running and in five years the gentle giant swears he's never made a profit, just enough to make occasional improvements and buy the odd bucket of American-made protein supplement.
Still, he is proud of the fact that despite lean resources, the Asian Bodybuilding Federation recently recognized Afghan lifters as the "most active and improved" bunch on the continent.
Afghanistan's iron men may not be holding their breath for support at home during a war. However, they are convinced new weight machines, training expertise and even glossy posters would be express delivered if bodybuilding's greatest ambassador only knew of his faithful on the other side of the world.
"Even though Arnold has not done anything for bodybuilding here yet, we love him and have lots of things to tell him," said Bawar, ticking off a wish list of supplies he needs. "We know everything about him. We want him to know something about us, the poor bodybuilders of Afghanistan."
|
© Anabolic Info
|
|
 |
