"He's the Reason for the Teardrops on my ...Richak"

Taylor Swift is a young, country (& western? is it still called that?) singer. Rajeed Ulah is a young, Afghan cashier. Rajeed knows neither Taylor Swift nor any English. How then, did it come to pass that Rajeed Ulah can sing every word to the chorus of Taylor Swift's hit song, "Teardrops on my Guitar" in almost perfect English? And why did Cira include a picture of a "Richak" with this blog posting (wait, what IS a Richak)?

First thing's first: A "Base Exchange" is the military's version of a Mini-Mart (on bigger bases it is more like a Wal-Mart or even a CostCo, but not on my base. On my base it's a Mini-Mart). It has things like cheezits, shaving cream and CD's. Sometimes it has canned Vienna sausages and Haloween cards but not bottled water or shampoo. It's hit and miss what you will find there. The one thing they always seem to have are kick-ass sound systems (pardon my french, but "kick-ass" is the brand) which always seem to be playing at the "come check me out" volume when one enters the store.

Second thing's second: I do not know who chooses the music designed to entice the troops to purchase these marvels of audio-capability, but I don't think it's a dude. If it was video, yeah, maybe a dude. But audio only? No way.

Enter, Rajeed Ulah. No, Rajeed does not choose the music (please refer to "second thing's second" to refresh your memory). Rajeed is a young Afghan man who works as a cashier at the Base Exchange. For twelve hours a day, 5 days each week, Rajeed stands at the cash register yelling, "NEXT!" (so that the next person in line may advance to pay. It's a military base - you don't advance until you are told to do so). Rajeed doesn't talk to anyone during those twelve hours except, occassionally, a fellow Afghan cashier who stands back-to-back with him working one of the other registers.

The aforementioned Taylor Swift song temporarily (thank goodness) became the soundtrack to my life by happy accident. I was "NEXT!" in Rajeed's line. Rajeed scanned my purchases. In silence. Rajeed turned the digital cash register screen to show me the amount due. In silence. I swiped my card and waited. In sil- wait -the silence was broken by Rajeed singing along, in almost American sounding English, to the chorus of a song I hadn't even noticed playing on the kick-ass sound system: "Teardrops on my Guitar".

It took a second for my mind to reconcile the inconsistency, so I did a double take and said, somewhat increduously I might add, "you know this song?" After all, I didn't know the song (I had to google what I heard him singing!). Admit it, some of you don't know the song. Aren't you a teensy bit incredulous, yourselves, that the Afghan cashier knows it? Am I alone here?

Rajeed's immediate response was to sort of stop singing and reduce it, instead to a "mumbling singing". You know, like when you're singing in the car and someone asks you a question and you turn down the radio to sort of listen to the question but your still mumble-singing? That's what Rajeed did to me as he smiled politely and cast a glance between the PIN machine and the line as if to remind me that the whole world was waiting for me to enter my PIN so he could yell, "NEXT!". I entered my PIN. But I was still curious, so I pressed on with, what I admit, was not much of a variance on my previous question but which I was certain would yield a different response anyway: "this song? you sing?" I asked, mumble-singing my own attempt at the words I could hear playing (which went something like, "he's the reason ... nah nah nah nah nah nah guitar".

Comprehension dawned for Rajeed first. He turned to the co-worker at his back, asked something in a language other than English and his co-worker, without turning around, very slowly enunciated, "no eeeenglis. no eeeeng lis". Comprehension dawned for Cira. Rajeed turned back to me and said, "no eeenglis m'am". My mind registered three things: Rajeed called me "m'am"; Rajeed doesn't know any English; Rajeed was just singing in perfect English. I felt like Scooby Doo, "Hruhhhh?" Rajeed had to prompt me, yet again, to finish my transaction. No surprise that, by this time, the music had changed. As I scooped up my bag, Rajeed yelled, "NEXT!" and I walked away to the sound of him mumble-singing - I kid you not - "Gimme more, gimme more, gimme gimme more..."by Brittany Spears.

Wow. What a short, strange trip it had been.

The next day, I took my friend who speaks the local languages with me to learn more about this "Next American Idol" - like his name - and confirmed that he does not know English. When he learned what had brought my attention to him, he had but one question for me: what is a "geeyah tar"? In the interests of international relations, I demonstrated my best "air accoustic guitar" and ad-libbed a little musical humming that made him laugh (sorry - I'm no musical ambassador).

Rajeed was generous, though, and gave me something in exchange: "geeyah tar", in Afghanistan, is "Richak". And now we know.