Post by Kiddo [le pwnsome] on Aug 17, 2009 12:39:44 GMT -5
Betrayal
How many times have you betrayed someone? Hopefully not very many, if at all. Betrayal is a weighty subject, as the common association with the word is a bad one. Simply reading a definition of the word puts heaviness in the heart. Sometimes the mere thought of being disloyal will cause a shudder of disgust, and a feeling of surprise at having the thought even entering our minds. Even so, acts of betrayal are occurring all over the world, at all times. Khaled Hosseini describes one such act in “The Kite Runner”.
The beginning of this story takes place in Kabul during the last years of the Afghanistan Monarchy. Amir is a young boy at this time, living in his father’s large, beautiful house. He lives with his “Baba” and two Hazara servants, Ali and Hassan. At this time, Hazaras are considered lowly, fit for only the most menial of tasks. Amir and Hassan are close in age, and have lived together their entire lives, as Ali and Baba have been friends for many years. The two boys are close friends, and spend most of their time together. Amir often reads books to Hassan, who enjoys literature, but cannot read or write himself.
After seeing Baba drinking, Amir asks him why he does it, as it is a sin in the Koran. Baba replies that, “No matter what the mullah teaches, there is only one sin, only one. And that is theft. Every other sin is a variation of theft.” (Hosseini 17) The same can be said for betrayal. For instance, if you stole something, you would be betraying the economy. If you told a lie, you would be betraying the trust of the person you were speaking to.
During an encounter with Assef, in which the older boy threatens Amir for playing a Hazara, Hassan loads his slingshot and warns Assef away. “If you make a move, they’ll have to change you nickname from Assef ‘the Ear Eater’ to ‘One-Eyed Assef,’ because I have this rock pointed at your left eye.” (Hosseini 42) Assef subsides, and leaves the two boys unharmed. But he does not give up.
That winter, after Amir wins the kite-fighting tournament, Hassan is running the last kite. Amir follows after several minutes, wanting to make his father proud by showing everyone the kite he had cut. “In my head I had it all planned: I’d make a grand entrance, a hero, prized trophy in my bloodied hands.” (Hosseini 67) When he finds Hassan, he has been cornered by Assef and his cronies. Amir hesitates, just out of sight of his friend and his enemies. “I had one last chance to make a decision. One final opportunity to decide who I was going to be. I could step into that alley, stand up for Hassan—the way he’d stood up for me all those times in the past—and accept whatever would happen to me. Or I could run.” (Hosseini 77) He watches as Hassan is raped, and does nothing.
Consumed with guilt, Amir could have tried to make it up to Hassan, could have been an even better friend, could have taught him to read and write. Instead, Amir selfishly tries to rid himself of his guilt by sending Hassan far away. He puts money and a watch under Hassan’s mattress, trying to make it look like the Hazara stole the watch and money. However, Hassan returns the items to Baba, and admits to stealing them. Baba forgives him, but Ali, ashamed at being thought the father of a thief, informs Baba that they are dismissing themselves and going to the home of a relative. Baba pleads with them, but Ali is adamant. “Then I saw Baba do something I had never seen him do before: He cried.” (Hosseini 107)
Instead of his guilt melting away with the departure of Ali and Hassan, Amir is racked with it even more. For years to come, though he moves to America, finds a wife, a job, and writes many successful novels, the shadow of this betrayal never leaves him. “I knew all about regret.” (Hosseini 180) But when Rahim Khan, an old business partner of Baba, who regards Amir as the son he never had, sends for him, a new and more shocking detail arises that sends him even deeper into remorse. Hassan is Amir’s illegitimate brother.
Rahim also describes what has happened to Hassan and Ali over the years. Ali steps on a land mine a few years after leaving the home of Baba and Amir. Hassan married a good woman, became a father to an outstanding son, and was reunited with his mother, who left him as a baby, refusing even to hold him. But Hassan, his wife, and his mother are dead now, murdered by the Taliban. The boy, Sohrab, is in an orphanage in Kabul.
Another burden has been placed upon Amir, now he has reason to rescue Sohrab from Kabul, and bring him to America. But he causes much pain to the boy along the way. While 7searching for a way to submit adoption papers to the Afghanistan Government, he plans to put Sohrab in an orphanage again, so that certain papers can be found that will enable him to adopt the boy. However, Sohrab panics at the idea, as terrible memories from years previously spent at another orphanage swim into his mind. Sohrab is so distressed that he attempts suicide, so nearly succeeding that Amir begins to fast and pray for the first time in several years. Another load of guilt has been added to Amir’s burden.
This guilt however, is the basis of Amir’s devotion to Sohrab, the reason he now strives to make the rest of the boy’s life as satisfying as possible. Although he receives little response from Sohrab, who has lost confidence in his uncle, he doesn’t stop trying. Betrayal leads to guilt, guilt leads to action, action brings results. The result of Amir’s actions brought more guilt in some instances, but it also brings a new life to his nephew. All this because of one act of betrayal.
Trust
Trust is a key part in our way of life. Do you trust your friends to keep your secrets? Do you trust the cashier at the grocery store not to charge you more than the amount on the price tag? Do you trust the decisions of your leaders? Would you give your credit card to someone you did not trust? Without confidence in others, our society would soon fall into chaos. An excellent example of this is given in “A Long Way Gone” by Ishmael Beah.
Sierra Leone, the country in which the majority of this book takes place, is in pandemonium. The RUF (Revolutionary United Front) is on the offensive, invading villages, looting, raping, and killing at will. The Sierra Leonean Army is not acting much better: ambushes, explosions, and firefights terrify the people and draw them even deeper into themselves.
Soon, the frightened citizens have lost all confidence in each other. Any stranger is a possible rebel or soldier, a potential harbinger of death and fear. Ishmael Beah describes this fear with a few concise words. “At crowded villages where we sometimes stopped to stay the night, the men stayed up to keep an eye on us. When we went to the river to wash our faces, mothers would grab their children and run home.” (Beah 57)
Think for a moment of what life would be like if every stranger could bring destruction. How could you trust anyone? How could you stay near them? Human nature holds us back in instances such as these. We do not want to reach out and help, because we are too fearful.
As we return to Beah’s book, we find that there were several people who did trust the boys. Soon after being driven out of a village and walking barefoot across the scorching sands of the shore, their feet began to peel and burn. After finding refuge in an empty hut on the beach, they inspect their feet. According to Beah, “It looked as if someone had literally used a blade to cut the flesh under my feet from the heel to the toes.” (60) In the midst of their suffering, a young man entered the hut. At first, he almost leaves them there, but stops when he sees their pain. This man, whose name the boys never learned, cares for them for several days, and helps to heal them.
However, hostility does not lessen toward the boys, and they are often chased, attacked, and nearly killed. They find safety so infrequently that they learn to treasure it, knowing it cannot last long. At the village Yele, where they have spent some time, the rebels begin to close in. The army has a squadron posted there, and the men go out to fight. Many do not return. Desperate for more soldiers, the commander of the squadron recruits volunteers from among the more than thirty orphan boys. The children are trained as soldiers and given drugs to increase their energy and dull the shock of gruesome deaths and injuries.
Before their first firefight, the lieutenant gives each of the boys a green head tie and tells them that “If you see anyone without a head tie of this color or a helmet like mine, shoot him.” (Beah 115) Once more, distrust is shown. The only way to tell the rebels from the army is a single green head tie. If a soldier lost his head tie during the battle, he would be shot by one of his own, merely because they did not trust anyone.
To reinforce the new climate are the many instances where Beah recounts stories from the past. He tells of parties, chance meetings, and friendships, depicting how life had been before the war. The retelling of his naming ceremony shows how carefree the people used to be. The elderly women gossiping amongst each other, telling old stories to a newborn child, laughing and feasting together gives an image of happiness and complacency. Barely a decade later, the people would never consider celebrating with anyone they did not know. A single rumor of a group of boys wandering the area causes enough misgivings to produce assault and near murder.
The atmosphere of mistrust in “A Long Way Gone” enhances the idea that Sierra Leone is in a dark and desperate era. The suspicion that soaks every aspect of Beah’s life at this time infects the reader of the book and causes them to start looking over their shoulders as well. If we learn from this story, we can prevent the same horrors happening elsewhere. If we but learn to trust each other.
How many times have you betrayed someone? Hopefully not very many, if at all. Betrayal is a weighty subject, as the common association with the word is a bad one. Simply reading a definition of the word puts heaviness in the heart. Sometimes the mere thought of being disloyal will cause a shudder of disgust, and a feeling of surprise at having the thought even entering our minds. Even so, acts of betrayal are occurring all over the world, at all times. Khaled Hosseini describes one such act in “The Kite Runner”.
The beginning of this story takes place in Kabul during the last years of the Afghanistan Monarchy. Amir is a young boy at this time, living in his father’s large, beautiful house. He lives with his “Baba” and two Hazara servants, Ali and Hassan. At this time, Hazaras are considered lowly, fit for only the most menial of tasks. Amir and Hassan are close in age, and have lived together their entire lives, as Ali and Baba have been friends for many years. The two boys are close friends, and spend most of their time together. Amir often reads books to Hassan, who enjoys literature, but cannot read or write himself.
After seeing Baba drinking, Amir asks him why he does it, as it is a sin in the Koran. Baba replies that, “No matter what the mullah teaches, there is only one sin, only one. And that is theft. Every other sin is a variation of theft.” (Hosseini 17) The same can be said for betrayal. For instance, if you stole something, you would be betraying the economy. If you told a lie, you would be betraying the trust of the person you were speaking to.
During an encounter with Assef, in which the older boy threatens Amir for playing a Hazara, Hassan loads his slingshot and warns Assef away. “If you make a move, they’ll have to change you nickname from Assef ‘the Ear Eater’ to ‘One-Eyed Assef,’ because I have this rock pointed at your left eye.” (Hosseini 42) Assef subsides, and leaves the two boys unharmed. But he does not give up.
That winter, after Amir wins the kite-fighting tournament, Hassan is running the last kite. Amir follows after several minutes, wanting to make his father proud by showing everyone the kite he had cut. “In my head I had it all planned: I’d make a grand entrance, a hero, prized trophy in my bloodied hands.” (Hosseini 67) When he finds Hassan, he has been cornered by Assef and his cronies. Amir hesitates, just out of sight of his friend and his enemies. “I had one last chance to make a decision. One final opportunity to decide who I was going to be. I could step into that alley, stand up for Hassan—the way he’d stood up for me all those times in the past—and accept whatever would happen to me. Or I could run.” (Hosseini 77) He watches as Hassan is raped, and does nothing.
Consumed with guilt, Amir could have tried to make it up to Hassan, could have been an even better friend, could have taught him to read and write. Instead, Amir selfishly tries to rid himself of his guilt by sending Hassan far away. He puts money and a watch under Hassan’s mattress, trying to make it look like the Hazara stole the watch and money. However, Hassan returns the items to Baba, and admits to stealing them. Baba forgives him, but Ali, ashamed at being thought the father of a thief, informs Baba that they are dismissing themselves and going to the home of a relative. Baba pleads with them, but Ali is adamant. “Then I saw Baba do something I had never seen him do before: He cried.” (Hosseini 107)
Instead of his guilt melting away with the departure of Ali and Hassan, Amir is racked with it even more. For years to come, though he moves to America, finds a wife, a job, and writes many successful novels, the shadow of this betrayal never leaves him. “I knew all about regret.” (Hosseini 180) But when Rahim Khan, an old business partner of Baba, who regards Amir as the son he never had, sends for him, a new and more shocking detail arises that sends him even deeper into remorse. Hassan is Amir’s illegitimate brother.
Rahim also describes what has happened to Hassan and Ali over the years. Ali steps on a land mine a few years after leaving the home of Baba and Amir. Hassan married a good woman, became a father to an outstanding son, and was reunited with his mother, who left him as a baby, refusing even to hold him. But Hassan, his wife, and his mother are dead now, murdered by the Taliban. The boy, Sohrab, is in an orphanage in Kabul.
Another burden has been placed upon Amir, now he has reason to rescue Sohrab from Kabul, and bring him to America. But he causes much pain to the boy along the way. While 7searching for a way to submit adoption papers to the Afghanistan Government, he plans to put Sohrab in an orphanage again, so that certain papers can be found that will enable him to adopt the boy. However, Sohrab panics at the idea, as terrible memories from years previously spent at another orphanage swim into his mind. Sohrab is so distressed that he attempts suicide, so nearly succeeding that Amir begins to fast and pray for the first time in several years. Another load of guilt has been added to Amir’s burden.
This guilt however, is the basis of Amir’s devotion to Sohrab, the reason he now strives to make the rest of the boy’s life as satisfying as possible. Although he receives little response from Sohrab, who has lost confidence in his uncle, he doesn’t stop trying. Betrayal leads to guilt, guilt leads to action, action brings results. The result of Amir’s actions brought more guilt in some instances, but it also brings a new life to his nephew. All this because of one act of betrayal.
Trust
Trust is a key part in our way of life. Do you trust your friends to keep your secrets? Do you trust the cashier at the grocery store not to charge you more than the amount on the price tag? Do you trust the decisions of your leaders? Would you give your credit card to someone you did not trust? Without confidence in others, our society would soon fall into chaos. An excellent example of this is given in “A Long Way Gone” by Ishmael Beah.
Sierra Leone, the country in which the majority of this book takes place, is in pandemonium. The RUF (Revolutionary United Front) is on the offensive, invading villages, looting, raping, and killing at will. The Sierra Leonean Army is not acting much better: ambushes, explosions, and firefights terrify the people and draw them even deeper into themselves.
Soon, the frightened citizens have lost all confidence in each other. Any stranger is a possible rebel or soldier, a potential harbinger of death and fear. Ishmael Beah describes this fear with a few concise words. “At crowded villages where we sometimes stopped to stay the night, the men stayed up to keep an eye on us. When we went to the river to wash our faces, mothers would grab their children and run home.” (Beah 57)
Think for a moment of what life would be like if every stranger could bring destruction. How could you trust anyone? How could you stay near them? Human nature holds us back in instances such as these. We do not want to reach out and help, because we are too fearful.
As we return to Beah’s book, we find that there were several people who did trust the boys. Soon after being driven out of a village and walking barefoot across the scorching sands of the shore, their feet began to peel and burn. After finding refuge in an empty hut on the beach, they inspect their feet. According to Beah, “It looked as if someone had literally used a blade to cut the flesh under my feet from the heel to the toes.” (60) In the midst of their suffering, a young man entered the hut. At first, he almost leaves them there, but stops when he sees their pain. This man, whose name the boys never learned, cares for them for several days, and helps to heal them.
However, hostility does not lessen toward the boys, and they are often chased, attacked, and nearly killed. They find safety so infrequently that they learn to treasure it, knowing it cannot last long. At the village Yele, where they have spent some time, the rebels begin to close in. The army has a squadron posted there, and the men go out to fight. Many do not return. Desperate for more soldiers, the commander of the squadron recruits volunteers from among the more than thirty orphan boys. The children are trained as soldiers and given drugs to increase their energy and dull the shock of gruesome deaths and injuries.
Before their first firefight, the lieutenant gives each of the boys a green head tie and tells them that “If you see anyone without a head tie of this color or a helmet like mine, shoot him.” (Beah 115) Once more, distrust is shown. The only way to tell the rebels from the army is a single green head tie. If a soldier lost his head tie during the battle, he would be shot by one of his own, merely because they did not trust anyone.
To reinforce the new climate are the many instances where Beah recounts stories from the past. He tells of parties, chance meetings, and friendships, depicting how life had been before the war. The retelling of his naming ceremony shows how carefree the people used to be. The elderly women gossiping amongst each other, telling old stories to a newborn child, laughing and feasting together gives an image of happiness and complacency. Barely a decade later, the people would never consider celebrating with anyone they did not know. A single rumor of a group of boys wandering the area causes enough misgivings to produce assault and near murder.
The atmosphere of mistrust in “A Long Way Gone” enhances the idea that Sierra Leone is in a dark and desperate era. The suspicion that soaks every aspect of Beah’s life at this time infects the reader of the book and causes them to start looking over their shoulders as well. If we learn from this story, we can prevent the same horrors happening elsewhere. If we but learn to trust each other.