Masculine Friday with dog fighting

Standing on the steep slope, I try to press my feet into slippery mud. There are thousands of Afghans – no women except me – around. Afghans are whistling and shouting. Boys walk in the crowd, carrying baskets with cigarettes, boiled eggs or sweets. Some soldiers with kalashnikovs and truncheons are going around; they are pushing back the crowds. All men stare at the dogs and their masters in the middle of natural arena: it is a dog fighting time.
Karim, my husband’s driver, asked us to join him to see the traditional winter entertainment in Afghanistan. He is driving us on Friday morning. Little daughter and son are with him, sitting on first seat (once we went on a joyride with all five of Karim’s children packed on the first seat). Approaching the fighting place, we see lots of cars and thousands of men. Dog fighting is popular among Afghans; many are coming from far away parts of the country.
Fighting dogs or war dogs in dari language (sag e jangi) recall me the dog named Babur, the companion of Rory. (The places in between by Rory Stewart) The old dog has been received as a gift from villagers of Ghor province. Those dogs look similar: muscular mixed breeds. Some of them have cut down ears and some of them don’t have tails. Those dogs look surprisingly well groomed: their claws are coloured with henna and collars are made from colourful fabric or leather. Their masters, sitting aside, pat and caress their wards. This is a really unusual view in Afghanistan where dogs are usually humiliated and avoided.
I don’t see bleeding or fighting to death. Karim says with smile that sometimes there is a quarrel between the owners and soldiers have to take care that angry men don’t shoot each other. Later I witness such a situation: the owners start to squabble in the middle of the fighting place, completely forgetting their fighting dogs.
When the owner decides to cross swords then an announcer with wooden stick starts going around. Sometimes the announcer is holding a bet of cash money in his hands. Then men drag colourful cloth in the middle of arena. When the cloth falls down, the dogs are dashing towards each other like fireballs. There is not much biting. It rather looks like wrestling: one dog tries to press another dog to the ground. The owners stand by, patting or drawing away (if winner is clear or there is a danger of injury) their dogs. Public sympathize and the waiting dogs as well. They try to rip off their leashes to join the fighting as well.
By midday the fighting is over – soon there will be praying time and everyone goes to the mosque to hear mulla’s speech. We are moving back to our car when Karim says suddenly: Actually, the dog fighting is a violation of islamic law.