A friend encouraged me to elaborate on something I had mentioned in my previous post regarding kite flying. I thought it was a good idea and so I offer the following.
For starters let me explain that the idea of going out to purchase an inexpensive kite to fly with the kids was largely due to Kahled Hosseini’s work The Kite Runner. It’s a fictional account of two boys growing up in Afghanistan and the unfolding of their lives during the Soviet Union’s invasion of their country in 1979 and the subsequent national trials they faced at the hands of the Taliban. The boys both loved flying kites and during better days in Kabul hundreds of boys participated in a traditional kite flying tournament. Here’s a link to Hosseini’s website if you want to know a bit more:
http://www.khaledhosseini.com/
My kite flying days were not spent out on open grassy parks with ample flat ground to run wild on with elaborate multicolored vinyl kites. Instead all the kids in my South Bronx neighborhood either handmade their kites or purchased cheap paper kites that came with thin pieces of wood that would snap in mid air with a strong gust of wind.
Our launching pad was on the rooftops of five storey apartment complexes. With no place to run we were at the mercy of the wind to set our flying machines loose in the sky with no fear of power lines, trees, or anything.
Like the kite flying cultural vignette described in The Kite Runner we had our own modest urbanite tradition of kite battling that was competitive and no joke to anyone participating. The gist of the games was simple: fly your kite, try to cut down your opponents, chase down fallen kites and see who was the last diamond in the sky.
What stands out in my memory the clearest is the great pains we took in preparing our kite string and tail – both of which were the only means to knocking other kites out of the sky. Let me explain.
Our preparations would begin with hunting down a long florescent bulb. Yes, a fluorescent bulb! Once we chanced upon one we would break it and grind the glass down enough to roll our kite string in it that had been prepped with Elmer’s glue. Once dried you had around 20-30 feet of kite line that was deadly to come up against and provided a wonderful way to saw down other kites in the sky as well as tear through your fingers if you weren’t careful. It was a battle royal up there n the sky! We also attached razor blades on to pieces of cloth for our kite tails to aid in the art of kite annihilation. I remember many a string burn on my hand and accidental razor cuts but God did we ever have fun when it was time to fly and have aerial fights.
Another associated memory I have is of seeing kites cut down in midair, colorful tails wiggling through the air and boys all hollering “Ahh-hoot-tah!!” and running like wildfire to snatch up a fallen kite. To this day I have no idea what that term means but we all shouted it when a kite was going down and the excitement of seeing the demise of a kite was exhilarating.
Eventually the winds would die down, the season to fly kites was over and we would turn to other things to occupy us in our concrete jungle of the South Bronx.
For starters let me explain that the idea of going out to purchase an inexpensive kite to fly with the kids was largely due to Kahled Hosseini’s work The Kite Runner. It’s a fictional account of two boys growing up in Afghanistan and the unfolding of their lives during the Soviet Union’s invasion of their country in 1979 and the subsequent national trials they faced at the hands of the Taliban. The boys both loved flying kites and during better days in Kabul hundreds of boys participated in a traditional kite flying tournament. Here’s a link to Hosseini’s website if you want to know a bit more:
http://www.khaledhosseini.com/
My kite flying days were not spent out on open grassy parks with ample flat ground to run wild on with elaborate multicolored vinyl kites. Instead all the kids in my South Bronx neighborhood either handmade their kites or purchased cheap paper kites that came with thin pieces of wood that would snap in mid air with a strong gust of wind.
Our launching pad was on the rooftops of five storey apartment complexes. With no place to run we were at the mercy of the wind to set our flying machines loose in the sky with no fear of power lines, trees, or anything.
Like the kite flying cultural vignette described in The Kite Runner we had our own modest urbanite tradition of kite battling that was competitive and no joke to anyone participating. The gist of the games was simple: fly your kite, try to cut down your opponents, chase down fallen kites and see who was the last diamond in the sky.
What stands out in my memory the clearest is the great pains we took in preparing our kite string and tail – both of which were the only means to knocking other kites out of the sky. Let me explain.
Our preparations would begin with hunting down a long florescent bulb. Yes, a fluorescent bulb! Once we chanced upon one we would break it and grind the glass down enough to roll our kite string in it that had been prepped with Elmer’s glue. Once dried you had around 20-30 feet of kite line that was deadly to come up against and provided a wonderful way to saw down other kites in the sky as well as tear through your fingers if you weren’t careful. It was a battle royal up there n the sky! We also attached razor blades on to pieces of cloth for our kite tails to aid in the art of kite annihilation. I remember many a string burn on my hand and accidental razor cuts but God did we ever have fun when it was time to fly and have aerial fights.
Another associated memory I have is of seeing kites cut down in midair, colorful tails wiggling through the air and boys all hollering “Ahh-hoot-tah!!” and running like wildfire to snatch up a fallen kite. To this day I have no idea what that term means but we all shouted it when a kite was going down and the excitement of seeing the demise of a kite was exhilarating.
Eventually the winds would die down, the season to fly kites was over and we would turn to other things to occupy us in our concrete jungle of the South Bronx.
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