"Ripples of pride in Kabul"
'The judges decide who has the best body'And it don't mean a thing if it ain't got that sheen, bodybuilder contestants declare
By Kim Barker
foreign correspondent
Published July 12, 2007
KABUL, Afghanistan -- Najibullah Nejrabi dreamed of being Mr. Kabul. For a year, the high school junior ate only boiled rice, boiled potatoes and boiled eggs. He lifted weights twice a day.
On this morning, Nejrabi prepared himself for the bodybuilding competition in the dingy hallway of the grubby Cinema Park movie theater. He flexed. He wore red underwear, which he insisted were unique to bodybuilding but looked like red underwear. Friends slapped a homemade mixture of oil and reddish pigment on him.
"It shows off my muscles," said Nejrabi, 19, who thinks his classmates are scared of him.
Bodybuilding is no joke in Kabul. It is one of the most common sports here, with dozens of hand-painted gym signs featuring impossibly muscle-bound men with biceps the size of human heads.
Fake Gold's Gyms abound -- there's even a Super Gold's gym. Bodybuilding competitions have always been popular, even during the restrictive years of the harsh Taliban, when no music was allowed and competitors had to wear baggy pants.
Contests held every 6 months
Now there are competitions every six months or so, for Mr. Kabul and The Master of Muscles of Afghanistan. There is a national bodybuilding team, which sends members to international competitions.
The men at Cinema Park are pumped-up and veiny, and they know how to strike a pose or grimace, and when some suck in their stomachs, they look as rippled as a scorpion.
"It's a quiet sport, and quiet sports are good for Afghanistan," said Mohammad Nasrat, 16, who rubbed oil on Nejrabi. "We've fought a lot."
This year's Mr. Kabul contest, held last week during school and business hours, is one of the rare forms of entertainment in Kabul, still reeling from almost three decades of conflict and war. Only 500 tickets were sold, for $2 each, but men holding fake tickets showed up at the door, trying to push their way inside the theater, where Indian Bollywood blockbusters are shown.
Organizer Mohammad Walid Arya, who sported long, carefully groomed hair straight out of a 1980s metal band, gold rings and a brown polyester suit, tried to keep the crowd calm. "So many people want to come inside," he said.
The finals comprised only the top six contestants, chosen earlier, in each of nine weight classes. Every competitor would win a trophy and a ribbon.
"The judges decide who has the best body," said Arya, who also runs his own film company. "It's not the biggest one. If he has some extra fat, he will not be Mr. Kabul. The important thing is, the beauty of the body."
Inside the theater, the crowd of young men and uniformed police waited impatiently, clapping, singing and dancing at every Indian pop song that blared out over the tinny speakers, even though it was only 9:30 a.m. A table of judges, including one wearing sunglasses, sat in front.
Men from the lowest weight class strutted onto the stage. Some of them looked red instead of tan because of a pigment miscalculation. Some smelled like peppermint. No. 76 was the most impressive, muscles above all of his competitors; the audience whistled and shouted when he flexed.
The moderator interrupted all the poses to announce that two Toyota Corollas blocked the parking lot. Prizes were awarded, and No. 76 won. People clapped and yelled, even louder when an old man with a white beard marched up on stage and threatened to inflict an expletive on the person who still had not moved his Corolla.
Preening and flexing to cheers
Then Nejrabi's weight class, of 132 pounds, was called. He waited with his friend Naser Hayakhani, 20, who has a tattoo of a heart and the word "love" on his right arm. "Boys love bodybuilding because they want to look handsome when they wear their clothes," explained Hayakhani, a car mechanic.
The men walked out on stage, preening and flexing as a techno song urged "squeeze it." The competitors included three Najibullahs, one man wearing blue and pink briefs and a man with an Elvis hairdo. When Nejrabi flexed, some in the crowd yelled, "Go Najib, well done!"
The men walked off the stage, and only Nejrabi was called back. He performed a muscle routine to an Iranian pop song, working in dance moves.
The judges ruled. Hayakhani appeared devastated after winning second in the junior class.
Every time the name "Najibullah" was called, Nejrabi looked nervous. But all the trophies were handed out, and Nejrabi was left standing. He won his class.
He didn't end up winning the overall contest of Mr. Kabul -- that title would go to the winner of the 176-pound category -- but Nejrabi was happy with his performance in his second competition. Back in the hallway, he drank his first bottle of water in three days.
"I think they knew I was first," Nejrabi said. "They liked my muscles. They liked my figure."
