BWG

Skateistan

words by Douglas Haddow

The skateboard, a considerably rudimentary device, is above all else a tool of transformation. For example: If you ride one alongside a curb at a decent speed, then mount the curb with the underside of your deck, it instantly transforms the slab of concrete into a transcendental balancing apparatus. Like magic, it shifts the entire meaning of an object that would otherwise go unnoticed. Similarly, the derelict backstreet where the curb is located becomes an entirely new landscape, now filled with the possibility of adventure, triumph and the odd battered elbow.

Over the course of a few decades, the art and sport of skateboarding has fundamentally changed the societies it thrives within, and along the way it has created an industry out of thin air, making it possible for all sorts of weirdos and misfits to live a life that was previously unimaginable.

The question is, can it go even deeper? Specifically, can skateboarding become a force of progress and renewal? Finding an answer to this question is what drives the people behind Skateistan, a Kabul-based non-governmental organization (NGO) that works to assist Afghanistan’s youth through a combination of skating and education.

Skateistan was founded in 2007 when Oliver Percovich, an Aussie skater-cum-emergency-manager, tagged along with his social scientist girlfriend when she moved to Afghanistan to work on rural development projects. The foundational idea for Skateistan came to Percovich after he started skating around Kabul and noticed how much interest the local youths took in his deck.

He began giving casual lessons to eager students at a defunct concrete fountain in downtown Kabul, which was perfectly suited to serve as a beginner’s bowl. Originally built by the Soviets, then left to disuse, it became Afghanistan’s first skate park and would provide a temporary headquarters for his makeshift skateboard school.

It was during these first days of Skateistan that Percovich began to notice some interesting effects that skating was having on the kids who came to hang out at the fountain. Because it was so unheard of, the skateboard wasn’t coupled with any sort of preconceived gender bias as it often is in the west. Girls were just as willing to give it a try as the boys from the get go; even if it resulted in punishment from their parents for playing with boys. The skateboard also acted as a social equalizer. All of a sudden homeless or orphaned kids, typically left isolated on the streets, were interacting with people from different classes and backgrounds in entirely new ways.

Inspired by what he was seeing, Percovich started working to turn his impromptu clinics into a permanent NGO with its own skate park. After approaching a number of embassies he eventually received enough money to build a ramp, and it grew from there and hasn’t let up since. In 2009, Skateistan built an all-inclusive skatepark and educational facility on a large plot of land donated by the Afghan National Olympic Committee.

Since starting out with a handful of used decks, Skateistan has grown into a global organization with side projects in Cambodia and Pakistan. Much of this success is a result of Skateistan’s unique mix of education and recreation. But what truly sets it apart is its focus on personal empowerment and helping girls learn, achieve and challenge themselves in ways that simply weren’t possible only a few years ago.

I recently spoke, via email, with Rhianon Bader, a Canadian freelance journalist who moved to Kabul and began working with Skateistan in 2010.

How did you first get involved with Skateistan?

I was living in Vancouver, BC, at the time, working as a journalist and at a friend’s skate shop (Antisocial). One of my friends sent me the link to an article in the BBC or the New York Times that was talking about a skateboarding school opening in Afghanistan. What got my attention was a photo of a small Afghan girl doing an ollie, wearing Afghan clothes and her headscarf. I immediately looked up Skateistan’s website and clicked to apply as a volunteer. I actually waited about a week before submitting the application because I was a bit scared and wanted to be committed if I was offered an internship. I didn’t hear back for 2-3 months, while I was traveling. By that time I’d been accepted into a Masters program in Amsterdam with full scholarship, but chose to go to Skateistan in Kabul instead – I definitely believe that I made the right choice.

Skateistan is described as a “neutral” NGO, can you explain what this means and why it’s an important distinction?

There are a lot of charity organizations that are setup to benefit a certain religious ideology, ethnic group or political ideal (ie. “freedom”). Skateistan is absolutely inclusive, with the goal of reaching as many young people in Afghanistan (and other project countries) as possible. The more diverse the backgrounds of the participants the better, since one of our primary goals in Afghanistan is to build trust and understanding between ethnic and social groups that do hardly interact with each other. Skateistan also sees political neutrality as essential for working in Afghanistan. This means refraining from making any public comment on the political situation, since saying the wrong thing can put individuals and the organization in real danger.

What are the greatest challenges that Skateistan faces?

The greatest challenge is simply getting anything done in Afghanistan. Uncertainty is a huge factor, since the security situation is constantly fluctuating, the commitment of foreign aid to the country is beginning to dwindle and many of the Afghan people have learned to adopt a ‘refugee mentality’ which does not put value on long-term development and educational goals, but instead on profiting as much as possible today and tomorrow. When it comes to the activities that we’re doing, for example creative arts and skateboarding with girls – both of which could well be considered controversial in a conservative Islamic country – there are no insurmountable challenges. We have new kids coming every week to register without doing any recruitment or advertising, and some of the veteran students are now volunteer teachers in the skatepark and the classroom, which is a huge accomplishment in our eyes. One obvious challenge for Skateistan, which I think all NGOs face, is getting funding security. For this reason we have been working from the start to move away from a reliance on governmental donors and establish income streams through our own social brand and co-branding with major skateboard companies.

In your experience, what sort of value does the program provide for your female students? 

It has changed the lives of many Afghan girls, and I say that without any exaggeration. Skateistan is quite possibly the only sports facility open to young girls, free of charge, in Kabul. Most are allowed to come because the instructors are female, it’s a private space, and we provide them with safe transport to the park. Most of the girls coming haven’t been taught a sport before, many have never had friends that weren’t family members or immediate neighbours or from a different ethnicity. For the impoverished girls especially, who work on the street every day, it’s a place where they can be someone else, someone who people respect and someone who’s proud of her accomplishments in class and the skatepark. Last week we sent Skateistan’s first female student, Fazila, on a trip to Italy. Fazila has been selling chewing gum and washing cars in the street since she was 7 to help support her family. Now she’s 14, works as the head female skate instructor, and has been re-enrolled in public school through our Back-to-School initiative. I think Skateistan has transformed her life in so many ways, and in turn she sees herself as an inspiration for other girls that work in the streets and have never dared to dream.

How do you find life in Kabul?

It’s dusty, full of bacteria, restrictive, too hot then too cold, and full of ups and downs. Because it’s so challenging though, it’s all the more inspiring to be there at this point in time, doing what we do at Skateistan. Some days you look around at all the people – foreigners and Afghans – profiting from the war at the expense of the masses and it’s super depressing. But at the same time it makes me proud because Skateistan is proving that it’s not financial capital but social capital that has a chance to change things for the better. I miss riding a bicycle, going for walks alone, sitting in a park with some wine, but these are all very small sacrifices when you know that one of your students, a 13-year-old-girl, finds a way to come to Skateistan secretly every week, even though she’s expected to spend each day selling scarves to foreign soldiers in order to support her father’s opium addiction.





— Photography source: Skateistan

Back To Features

READER COMMENTS(3)

  • October 24, 2011
  • EJB

A great Feature, one that Skateistan, Doug H and BWGMag.com should feel very pleased with.
Great!!!

    Thanks for your comment. We’re really pleased with the way this feature turned out. Doug did a fantastic job.

  • October 26, 2011
  • Edevsol

Inspirational.

LEAVE A NEW COMMENT

You must be logged in to post a comment.