The Foreign Service Journal, June 2005

“Some of the Waziri tribe, known for cross-border smuggling and blood feuding, that sort of thing. They salaamed and Klaus salaamed, then they sat down, their leader close to the fire with Klaus and Fang Fang, and the other three behind him. A fifth stood watch out in the shadows with an AK-47. “Do not worry,” their newcomer told them in stilted English. “He is a crack shot. Nothing will disturb us.” “It was then that Klaus made his fatal error. He offered them some jackal. A Muslim has strict dietary laws and more than just pork is considered haram, or unclean. You won’t find an Afghan eating shellfish, for instance; a Kuwaiti will and a Pakistani might, if he’s from Karachi, but an Afghan, never. Haram. And there’s one thing they all agree is haram— dog. Canids rank right up there, or I should say right down there, with pig on the scale of unclean eatables. And a jackal is a canid. Tribals hate ’em cause they eat the partridge and will shoot them on sight, but they won’t eat them; no, sir. “Now, my Muslim friends say, if you don’t know it’s haram when you eat it, it is okay; but they’re what you might call progressive. Afghans, on the other hand, are mortally insulted to be served, wittingly or unwittingly, anything unclean. Guess it’s a throwback to us British and all that controversy over the new bullet that brought on the Mutiny, something about it being greased with pig fat. But I digress; that happens when your glass gets empty.” F O C U S J U N E 2 0 0 5 / F O R E I G N S E R V I C E J O U R N A L 49 Klaus was always uncertain about what happened next, but he swears a partridge went up as the jackal ran out.