The preservation of endangered crafts, and their transmission to the next generation: That's the aim of the Utah Arts Council's folk arts division, in awarding grants to masters and apprentices - and your apprentice can be your own daughter.
So it is with Mahera Rashidi, a native of Afghanistan, and her daughter, Neela Harouny, who spend a few hours each week applying themselves to the painstaking skill of Afghan embroidery. In the process Neela, now developing into a lively American teenager, gains deeper appreciation of the culture in which she has her roots, and the mystique of Islam."The embroideries of most countries are colorful and elaborate," said Mahera, seated in her comfortable but sparely furnished living room. "But ours is simple and monotone in color.
"Afghan embroidery is based on painstaking counting of the threads. We use the same color thread as cloth, and since it strains the eyes to work dark thread on dark cloth, we often use white on white, then dye the whole thing."
Neela held up a hoop, containing a tortured-looking example of thread-counted embroidery. "I'm losing my eyesight," she laughed.
Much of the embroidery consists of eight-petaled figures, separated by diamond-shape chains. "We call the figures seeds, not flowers, and they are symbolic," said Mahera. "The melon seed is the seed of life.
"The diamond-shape dividers separating the seeds symbolize that while life is vast and limitless, we are each limited by our spaces and times. The dividers are made up of little blocks, one upon another, like building bricks, to symbolize the individual's progress in life.
"When we embroider, we don't just make something pretty. It's a time for meditation. In America, people are on the go, they feel guilty if they sit long enough to meditate."
Mahera acknowledged the competition of modern machines. "A Japanese blouse will look very similar to our handmade product, but the thread is coarser. I must import my thread, it is silk and tangles easily, but it has a beautiful sheen that cannot be duplicated by machine," she said.
She also explained mirror embroidery, another customary style. "Mirror embroidery is always in paisley shapes, which originated in the Middle East. The shape is derived from the cypress tree, which is rounded and comes to a peak. But in an embroidery design we tilt the top to one side, which in Islam signifies humility and submission to a higher power.
"The mirror signifies a life within a life - the mirror of the soul, the light within each individual that helps him to see himself whole, to go deep inside and kindle the light within."
Mahera's wealthy family often traveled the Afghan countryside, where she gained added insights into Afghan embroidery and other arts.
"A woman worked very happily in the fields, often in her best clothes, an elaborate dress of velvet, satin and silk, with sequins or coins for trim. When word went out that someone was getting a new dress, it was a big event. Everyone came to sew and sing songs, to show their love and caring, like a quilting bee here."
When Mahera came to America during the 1970s and began attending the University of Utah, there were only four or five Afghanis at the school, and she was the only woman. An insatiable learner, she graduated in biology, has several master's degrees or the equivalent, and is working toward a Ph.D. in a combination of social work and psychology.
She immediately began to communicate her native arts - music, crafts and dance - at first having a program at the Hotel Utah. When Adnan Khashoggi was interested in Utah development, he helped start the Middle Eastern program at the U. with an initial gift of $2,000. Mahera continued to teach Middle Eastern music at the U., "and I now teach two classes: comparative status of women in Eastern and Western cultures, and comparison of the family in Mormonism and Islam," she said.
Mahera has also translated part of the Book of Mormon into Persian and gospel tracts into Pashtu, which along with Dari is the language of Afghanistan. "Dari is the ancient form of Persian," she said. "In Iran they speak Farsi. Neela first learned to speak Farsi, then learned English when she was 4 or 5."
In her classes, Mahera contests some widely held misconceptions about Middle Eastern women, their cultures and conflicts. She feels that it is devotion to Muslim philosophy, not coercion, that motivates recent changes.
"It's a misconception that the Islamic religion `puts women down,' " she said. "For example, people ask, why must women be covered from head to toe, and wear the veil? The answer is that Islam adapts to every culture, so people kept the culture they already had. In Saudi Arabia you see the rigid discipline of women, as it was long before Islam, but elsewhere that doesn't apply.
"Women are covered mainly because of the climate. The sandy desert winds, the harsh sun and sparse water make it practical to cover all but the eyes. This went on long before Islam among Arab tribes. Women do stay covered as a symbol of modesty, but it's custom rather than doctrine. Mohammed's own wife and daughter (sixth century A.D.) dressed in this way, but they went to war!
"Women today in Iran and Egypt are willingly going back to the veil, to protest the Western way of life. Why should they copy Western ways? Islam is like a puzzle, and all the pieces should be Islamic, not with stray Western pieces trying to fit in. Women want freedom within their own religious and cultural framework. You will see a woman flying a jet plane, wearing a veil.
"Freedom is not dictated from outside, by what you wear, but from inside, bywhat you are able to do. And I have seen more freedom among Muslim women than in the West. For example, before an Islamic marriage, all money matters are spelled out, so that her property is hers to keep, her husband has no claim on it. She can invest it or do whatever she wants.
"If her husband dies or they are divorced (which rarely happens), there is no welfare system to protect her, but each family cares for its own. Her husband's brother or father takes responsibility."
Mahera noted Islam is the fastest-growing religion in the world. "It appeals to the masses. It forbids bragging about accomplishments and wealth. Muslims keep a low profile, they know they came into the world with nothing and will go out with nothing. Westerners set a high priority on status, money and success, but Islam does not. Age and wisdom are respected, and as people grow older the culture shifts to matriarchy."
Mahera acknowledged the charm of Middle Eastern men, who may seem to "put on an act" when in America, then revert to type when they return home. "American women must understand that these men may come here and drink liquor and wear shorts and let their women do the same; but the minute they return home, they revert 100 percent to their own culture."
Mahera's prominent family suffered generations of persecution under various regimes in Afghanistan. They were dispossessed during the time of the last Afghan king. Her grandfather died, and her grandmother raised her family alone, supporting five boys and two girls by teaching privately at home and sewing.
Mahera's father became a very successful engineer in Kabul, but he steered clear of political involvement, feeling that someone must give attention to the family's needs.
Mahera was raised in a large house with four brothers and sisters, and many cousins - children of her father's brother, who was paralyzed and lived with them, and her father's sister. "We had cooks and maids and tutors," she said. "I learned languages, and I learned to knit and sew from my mother and grandmother. Everyone went to university. My aunt had five girls, and they became an anesthesiologist, a dentist, a lawyer, a gynecologist and a teacher!"
Before coming to America, Mahera traveled Europe as a journalist. She had her own program on radio and a column in the paper. She was active in the Persian International Arts Festival and was a journalist with Middle East Magazine in London.
All Mahera's immediate family is now in America. "My father wished us to come," she said. A brother and sister and her mother live in Salt Lake City; other family members are in Texas and California.
Her father died in 1985; he too wanted to immigrate but never made it, staying in Kabul to attend to his import-export business, which he established after many years as an engineer. Many cousins are still in Afghanistan, where the communists appropriated her father's holdings. She could claim the property if she went back to live, but she fears to do so.
"I feel at home here. I chose Salt Lake City because it reminds me of Kabul with its high blue mountains, though it doesn't have a river," she said. "Mormonism has many moral aspects like Islam, I am content to stay here, I am an American citizen. Yet I feel an emotional attachment to Afghanistan; I would like to visit my father's grave."