Paul repeatedly told them, “I can’t practice medicine, nor do I want to. I’m not a doctor. I’m a medical researcher. It’s the lure of hidden knowledge that draws me on, and medical practice does not provide enough of that.”
His neighbors would laugh saying they trusted Paul more than any doctor they knew. Paul would reply, “I appreciate your confidence in me, but you should not trust me. I don’t know enough and haven’t kept up with medical literature.”
The neighbor managed a dyeing and finishing fabric company in Passaic and desperately needed a trustworthy bookkeeper. He begged Lela to take the job at any pay she wanted and any hours she could manage. Lela agreed to take the job for $10 an hour. The neighbor insisted on paying her $20 per hour in cash. Because of the children, Lela wanted to go into the office no more than 20 hours a week.
Her new neighbor-boss insisted she could come into the office ten hours a week and do the books at home for any extra work needed. He provided a car and chauffeur at Lela’s disposal, to and from the office. Amazingly, the job and friendship lasted over ten years, with never a hitch.
The strangest part of the deal was the huge new coffin style freezer the boss asked Lela to keep in her basement. He insisted on paying $100 a month rental for the freezer and kept the freezer filled with food, leaving just enough room for the company records. The company books were always locked in the freezer when not in use, and only Lela and the chauffeur had keys to open it.
The mortgage and friendship ended abruptly. One day the neighbors took them to dinner. They had important news. The neighbors told them, “We need to close the dyeing and finishing business. We’re leaving the country. That’s all we can tell you. It’s been a beautiful friendship and business relationship, but now it must come to an end. That’s all we can say. Please don’t ask any questions.
“As a parting bonus, we want you to accept this cash. It will pay off your mortgage and then some. Lela, it will help you start your new business. We and the kids are happy and proud to know you guys. Oh yes, we will remove the books in the morning.”
MOVING ON AND UP:
As recreation, Lela and Paul occasionally went on long walks through the charming residential streets of their town. If Lela saw a home she liked, she boldly walked up to the front door and told the residents how much she admired the house. She explained that she was not a real estate person, but if they ever consider selling to please phone her. Most people were flattered by her inquiry.
Eventually, Lela found an old ten-room brick home she particularly liked. It turned out that the owners were anxious to sell. They were tennis pros and had invested heavily in a northwest New Jersey resort. They asked for $50K and said they needed to sell fast. Paul suggested offering $40K. Actually, Paul thought that low-balling the price would end this latest disruption of their lives.
In most ways Lela was quite canny when it came to financial matters. She was, after all, a bookkeeper-accountant. One thing Paul had learned living with Lela was not to say no outright. He therefore tried finessing Lela’s latest impulse.
She was a Gypsy rover at heart, always on the move with some new venture or adventure. This was a charming, exciting, and ultimately, a prosperous aspect of their marriage. But with so many changes in their lives, Paul craved stability, at least at home.
Hours were spent with the prospective sellers watching the tennis pros’ videos. After a week of viewing tennis backhand and service strategies, they agreed on $41.5K for their house. Lela was ecstatic, and Paul learned some useful tennis tactics.
Paul’s boss got him a mortgage with his brother who had just opened a bank in Cedar Grove. The inflation of the 1970’s was affecting the economy, and they were able to obtain a 7% mortgage, which was a bargain for that period in time. It was workable, and they were happy with this rate. The new ten-room home would be spacious enough for Lela’s new business, and she was delighted with the new arrangement.
The 1970s were prosperous times for Lela, Paul, and the nation. The pharmaceutical company employing Paul paid for his MBA and Economics doctorate, and Lela’s business was booming. She had many lucrative museum contracts to gather tribal art for exhibits and gift shops, and by the mid-70s would be spending half her time in Europe and the Middle East.
NYC Coliseum Show, 1974
4
FIRST TRIP - SPRING, 1975
Lela’s first solo trip to Afghanistan took place in the spring of 1975 and lasted three months. On that first trip to Kabul, Lela was ticketed on the same flight as Flake. Up to the point of boarding the Pan Am flight, Flake tried to talk her out of the trip. She would not be dissuaded. Lela was certain Flake was hiding something, and it had nothing to do with artifacts, rugby, or his injuries.
Lela and Paul spent time detailing worst case scenarios. They wrote out strategies for dealing with each. Before the trip, Lela and Paul discussed their fears. They agreed that the most dangerous aspect would be accidental entanglement in drug trafficking. For this reason, her destination was Frankfurt.
Flake planned to transfer in Frankfurt for an Arianna airlines flight to Kabul. After the flight to Frankfurt, she lost track of Flake. (In Kabul, no information as to Flake’s whereabouts ever surfaced. Lela and Paul were quite content that Lela would be able to pursue her tribal art search and acquisition trip without him.)
Lela spent time in Germany and Switzerland before moving on to her ultimate destination of Kabul and was able to persuade a few museums to commission her to bring back tribal artifacts from Afghanistan. As there was increasing interest in Islamic art, Lela’s persuasive skills were quite effective.
Lela thought Zurich one of the most beautiful cities in Europe and spent a week there. She made contacts with museums, art dealers and boutique venues. Many were interested in Islamic art and doing business with Americans.
That first week Paul wrote an aerogram to Lela: “My love, you are sorely missed. I must get used to sleeping alone. That is the most difficult part for me. As the German poet Goethe wrote, “The eternal feminine drives us onward.” I believe this is true for women as well as men. Both our pursuits are driven by the eternal feminine.
“To put it another way, Mother Nature drives us onward. The eternal feminine is coded in our genes, in our DNA. Of that I’m certain. In the final analysis, people strive for family, household and children. Striving to secure one’s family is natural, but insane striving for wealth and power, exceeding family need endangers society.”
Lela, front with sunglasses, on bus to Afghanistan
Before she flew to Frankfurt, Lela left a sealed letter for Paul, to be opened after her first week of absence. She wrote:
“You know that I’m driven to search out what’s needed for the success of our business. Partly, it’s a pursuit of personal pride, but also my pride in our family drives me on. I could no longer depend on Flake. Not that I didn’t try, but we argued constantly. Each time he went to Afghanistan, he returned with more junk and less for me to sell.
“I insisted that his buying was seriously hurting my family income and reputation with customers. By the time I built a substantial following in the trade, Flake was about to trash it. As you know, my customers are mostly women, carving out a tenuous niche in the business world. I view Flake as just another selfish, self-centered man keeping women down.
“On the other hand, you, my love, are the ideal marriage partner. Even with all the discussions and challenges to my inclinations, you have always supported me in the end. Especially, I am proud that you recognize our sexual needs and will support our joint decision on this point.
“We both recognize that our sexual needs are natural and deserve to be satisfied. We are sexual beings and Mother Nature made us that way. Know that the most unpleasant part of this trip is not having you to retreat to at the end of the day. I will miss you and the kids, but be assured that our desire for each other will increase each day we are apart. I love you and the boys and think about you constantly.”
; After a few days in Frankfort, and a week in Geneva, Lela took a bullet train to Basel. She compiled a list of other possible sales venues for Basel while in Geneva and also had success in Zurich. She had a Euro Pass which provided unlimited travel rights anywhere in Europe for up to 90 days.
After visiting some museums in England, Germany and Switzerland, she discovered a hippie bus that made a three-month trip from Zurich to Kabul, with a final destination in Delhi, and then back again to Zurich. Most of the passengers were European Sannyasins (a Hindu sect). Lela booked passage and began her first Afghanistan adventure.
The bus had a large false bottom to hide trade goods. In preparation for the trip, it was filled with brand-name blue jeans, a much sought after currency throughout the world in the 1970s. The bus traveled from Zurich through Italy, Yugoslavia, Greece, Turkey, Iran, Pakistan and finally to Kabul in Afghanistan before journeying on to Delhi. Lela left the bus in Kabul.
The bus trip provided an extraordinary insight into the land and people from Zurich to Kabul. The Sannyasins had friends in most major cities along the route, and Lela and the bus people spent a day or so at most urban stops. While she was able to have pleasant conversations with people in the countries along the way, Iran was the only hostile exception.
Over the border in Iran, the bus stopped at a pastoral stream so that everyone could get out and wash up. There were a few local people observing them. As soon as the Sannyasins bared their arms and legs to wash, the locals threw rocks at them. Having made the circuit through Iran before without incident, the Sannyasins immediately realized that things had changed in Iran.
This time the caravan was forced to backtrack to the border. They explained their about-face to the border guards. The guards explained that Iran was going through a revolution; foreigners could no longer expect a welcome. They told the Sannyasins to come back when conditions become normal. Of course, things only got worse.
Lela wrote to Paul, saying, “Every few days the bus needs more repairs. Not that the bus was in such bad shape; rather, the roads were typically disaster zones. Some roads were cratered from bombing, especially in Northern Afghanistan. Even where there were no bombings, the potholes were big enough to serve as bathtubs. These road pools provided a welcome relief from the hot, sticky air following frequent cloudbursts.
Dharma smiling with Sannyasins
RADIO INTERVIEW:
After her first business trip to Afghanistan, Lela described the start of her new enterprise on a radio interview.
Lela: “My first trip to Afghanistan came about as a result of my American importer’s abrasive and downright abusive treatment of me and other women. I was determined to locate the source of the Afghan jewelry and free myself from dependency on that bozo.”
Interviewer: “What made you think you could do it?”
Lela: “I had already developed a strong sense of what sells based on my initial two years of selling Afghan jewelry and other tribal art. My flaky importer was increasingly involved in rugby, his injuries from that brutal sport, and other stuff I didn’t want to know about, forced me to act on my own.”
Interviewer: “You mentioned a need for a great adventure. What did you mean by that?”
Lela: “Well, I meant exactly what I said. Every few years I have a craving for a great adventure. The Aussies call it a walkabout. The term walkabout refers to a need for escape from the hum-drum world. People say, “S/he went walkabout.” It generally means taking off into the wild unknown in pursuit of adventure and hidden knowledge.
“My spouse goes walkabout in his head, with ideas, writing or a new project of some kind. Sometimes his mind at home is farther removed than I was when I was in the Middle East.”
Interviewer: “That’s fascinating; I guess a lot of people do that. I know I do. You two have been married 15 years. Is this your first walkabout?
Lela: “A year after we were married, we were both working and in graduate school. Graduate students received free plane tickets and an invitation to visit the new Revolutionary Cuba. It was six weeks before the 26th of July Celebration, the first year of the Revolution, the Year of Education.
“We were both active socialists. I was a photographer, painter, and sculptor. My husband, Paul, was a diabetic clinician and part-time reporter for a cooperative of leftist media. In the 1960s they were called stringers. These were reporters who were paid to cover specific events.”
Interviewer: “That must have been a great adventure for you both.”
Lela: “In many ways it was a decisive experience for both of us. Mainly, the Cuban adventure strengthened our marriage by persuading us to live in the real world.”
Interviewer: “What happened?”
Lela: “It was much more eventful than I expected. First, we attended a press conference at the Revolutionary Assembly as soon as we landed in Havana. There were over a thousand journalists from all over the world, mostly representing leftist media.
“We were wined and dined too well. I never realized what lushes our comrade reporters turned out to be. The exceptions were Communist Party people. They remained sober, smiling, and helpful ‘good scouts’ throughout the events.
“We were assigned rooms in the penthouse of the Colonia Hotel at $4 a day. Then, we were taken to a cooperative hostel in Zone H-5, which was formerly the mansion of ex-dictator Batista’s mistress. It was there, after a few days of morning sickness, that I realized I was pregnant with our first child.
“We toured a number of cooperatives for new housing, schools and industries (expanding from cottage crafts). Paul filled hundreds of pages of notebooks, and I took hundreds of 35-mm color photos. Any time I ran out of film or Paul ran out of writing material, our tour guides provided all we needed. They were anxious for the press to carry a positive image to the world.
“The real crisis occurred towards the last few days of our visit. Paul was considering a revolutionary expedition to Guatemala. I told Paul he had to choose between his new family and what I was afraid would be a death trip.
“What saved us was the recruiter. She told us that we were needed back in the States, supporting the Cuban Revolution and that only experienced revolutionaries could make the expedition work. She said that people like us were needed to work within the belly of the beast.
Two weeks after returning to New York we learned that the six ships that traveled to Guatemala were bombed, with no survivors.”
Interviewer: “Yes, I would consider your Cuban adventure quite eventful. What was next?”
Lela: “Back in New York we continued developing our careers and supporting the Cuban Revolution. Paul and I became leaders of the “Cuba Si” faction in YPSL (Young People’s Socialist League).
“We argued that the Cuban Revolution, like marriage, is seldom ideal, but, like a new marriage, we needed to persevere rather than do the liberal thing of divorcing when the going gets tough. Our faction was defeated, and we were considered adventurist divisive elements. It was strongly suggested that we work with other groups, such as the CYO (Communist Youth Organization).
“From that point on, we worked independently of any political organization. We continued to provide slide presentations and narratives wherever we could but did not join any political organizations. The truth was that we could not accept party discipline.
“By the early 1960s, every leftist organization enjoyed a substantial increase in funding and membership. The FBI virtually kept these organizations afloat, especially the Communist Party. Without FBI and U.S. taxpayer support, many leftist groups would have wound up on the trash heap of history.”
5
FOREIGN INTRIGUE
Spring, 1975—The Sannyasin overland caravan to Kabul was a marvelous adventure for Lela. The caravan consisted of six vehicles: a bus carrying Lela and most of the travelers, four large off-road campers, and a strange tiger-striped duplex camper. A young Sannyasin couple built the Tiger Bahn (road tiger) on their farm outside of Zurich.
Tiger Bahn
, Tiger-striped duplex camper at Swiss Farm Starting Point
It was the most unique of the six vehicles in the caravan and was the show-stopper throughout the trip. Most of the travelers were from wealthy European families. The exceptions were Lela and Kit.
Lela and Kit were closer to each other than to any other travelers. Most of the others were Sannyasin. They acted like hippie flower children. Lela and Kit were the only serious business travelers as well as politically savvy leftists. They were like den mothers to the happy campers.
Kit said little about herself. In addition to being a nurse-practitioner, she was also a journalist and consultant to the Kalq government on health issues. After completing her training as a registered nurse, Kit went on to medical college completing her doctorate in Public Health.
The ministry of health planned hundreds of store-front clinics throughout Afghanistan, starting with a 100-mile radius around Kabul. Her medical team was Afghan, except for Kit. The team would visit each of 50 towns to negotiate with their leaders and administrators.
The team planned to establish combination medicalnursing-dental-public health clinics, as well as a national health sciences university and research center in Kabul. Kit was in the process of writing a series of articles and books on this experience, “Afghan Public Health, Past, Present and Future.” She had already written a number of newspaper and magazine articles on related subjects.
IN LELA’S WORDS:
One day while waiting for another bus repair, I went to a real Turkish bath, my first. It was in the provincial town of Site, on the southwest coast of Turkey. The bathhouse had a tour marker outside the doorway. It said something about it being an ancient Greek temple of Poseidon, refitted by the Romans into the Temple of Neptune. Romans were so practical, combining religion with a bathhouse.
The Afghan Queen: A True Story of an American Woman in Afghanistan Page 3