My travels to Afghanistan began many, many years ago on the eastern border of my country, my homeland, Poland. I was walking through the forests of my grandmother's tales. A land where every field hides a grave, where millions of people have been deported or killed in the 20th century.
As miñas viaxes a Afghanistán comezaron hai moitos anos na fronteira oriental do meu país, a miña terra, Polonia. Estaba paseando polas fragas dos contos da miña avoa. Unha terra onde cada campo oculta un sepulcro onde millóns de persoas foron deportadas ou asasinadas no século XX.
Behind the destruction, I found a soul of places. I met humble people. I heard their prayer and ate their bread. Then I have been walking East for 20 years -- from Eastern Europe to Central Asia -- through the Caucasus Mountains, Middle East, North Africa, Russia. And I ever met more humble people. And I shared their bread and their prayer. This is why I went to Afghanistan.
Alén da destrucción, atopei a alma dos lugares. Coñecín xente humilde. Escoitei as suas pregarias e comín o seu pan. Logo camiñei cara o Leste durante vinte anos de Europa oriental deica Asia central... através das montañas do Cáucaso, Medio Oriente, o Norte de África, Rusia. Non atopei xente máis humilde. Compartiron o seu pan e as súas pregarias. Por iso fun a Afghanistán.
One day, I crossed the bridge over the Oxus River. I was alone on foot. And the Afghan soldier was so surprised to see me that he forgot to stamp my passport. But he gave me a cup of tea. And I understood that his surprise was my protection.
Un día, crucei a ponte sobre o río Oxus. Ía soa, a pé. E un soldado afgán sorprendeuse tanto cando me veu que esqueceu estampar o meu pasaporte. Pero deume una taza de té. E comprendín que a súa sorpresa era a miña protección.
So I have been walking and traveling, by horses, by yak, by truck, by hitchhiking, from Iran's border to the bottom, to the edge of the Wakhan Corridor. And in this way I could find noor, the hidden light of Afghanistan. My only weapon was my notebook and my Leica. I heard prayers of the Sufi -- humble Muslims, hated by the Taliban. Hidden river, interconnected with the mysticism from Gibraltar to India. The mosque where the respectful foreigner is showered with blessings and with tears, and welcomed as a gift.
Así que camiñei e viaxei en cabalo, en iaque, en camión, en autoestop, dende a fronteira con Irán deica o fondo, no límite do Corredor de Wakhan. E nesta travesía puiden achar Noor, a luz oculta do Afghanistán. A miña única arma era o meu caderno e a miña Leica. Escoitei as oracións dos Sufi humildes musulmáns, odiados polos musulmáns. Río oculto, interconectado co misticismo dende Xibraltar até a India. A mesquita onde o respetuoso estranxeiro é agasallado con benzóns e con bágoas, e recibido coma un agasallo.
What do we know about the country and the people that we pretend to protect, about the villages where the only one medicine to kill the pain and to stop the hunger is opium? These are opium-addicted people on the roofs of Kabul 10 years after the beginning of our war. These are the nomad girls who became prostitutes for Afghan businessmen.
O que sabemos nós sobre o país e xentes aos que finximos protexer sobre as aldeas onde o único remedio para calmar a dor e saciar a fame é o opio? Estes son os adictos ao opio nos teitos de Cabul dez anos despois de comezarmos a nosa guerra. Estas son as rapazas nómadas convertidas en rameiras para os empresarios afgáns.
What do we know about the women 10 years after the war? Clothed in this nylon bag, made in China, with the name of burqa. I saw one day, the largest school in Afghanistan, a girls' school. 13,000 girls studying here in the rooms underground, full of scorpions. And their love [for studying] was so big that I cried.
Que sabemos nós das mulleres dez anos após a guerra? Vestidas con esas bolsas de nilon, fabricadas en China, que levan por nome burqa. Un día vin, a meirande escola en Afghanistán, unha escola de nenas. Trece mil nenas estudando alí en habitacións baixo o chan, cheas de escorpións. E a súa paixón polo estudo era tan grande que chorei.
What do we know about the death threats by the Taliban nailed on the doors of the people who dare to send their daughters to school as in Balkh? The region is not secure, but full of the Taliban, and they did it.
Que sabemos nós sobre as ameazas de morte dos talibáns cravadas nas portas da xente que ousa enviar as súas fillas á escola coma en Balkh? A rexión non é segura, pois está chea de talibáns, e fixérono eles.
My aim is to give a voice to the silent people, to show the hidden lights behind the curtain of the great game, the small worlds ignored by the media and the prophets of a global conflict.
O meu obxectivo é darlle voz á xente silenciada, amosar as luces ocultas detrás das cortinas do grande xogo, os pequenos mundos ignorados polos medios e polos profetas dun conflicto universal.
Thanks.
Grazas.
(Applause)
(Aplausos)