I thought I’d share a short story from Iraq that I think about every now and then. When I do think about the folks I met there, the Iraqi family, I wonder everyday if they are ok or if they are dead. Might sound cynical but with all the civilian casualties every day I would be surprised if one of these people I met hasn’t been wounded or killed.
The base I was deployed to is some 80 miles south of Baghdad, it is an Army base but Air Force, Navy and Marines are stationed there as well. Other nationalities are based there too, Italians, Romanians, Japanese and a few others.
The “residential” section of the base where our tents are, we had a laundry shop which was run by an Iraqi family. We also had laundry tents where you could do your own laundry but you could drop yours off to laundry shop if you didn’t have time. It was free, plus they did a great job and they were very nice.
When in Iraq I noticed the scarf the Iraqis wore the red-white or black-white checkered scarf. I also noticed that some of the Marines or security troops wore them around their neck. As we got into October and the day was becoming colder and the nights close to freezing and scarf like that would come in handy.
I asked one of the guys who worked in the laundry, most of them speaking good English, others were still learning. I asked if he knew where I could get the red-checkered scarf. At first he didn’t know what I mean or what I was talking about. I kept trying to describe it, he walked of for a second came back and held one in his hand and asked if this was what I meant. I asked him where I can get one.
At this moment I thought I made him mad, because through out conversation he was smiling and we were laughing at my inability to properly describe what I was referring to. Then all of sudden as soon as I ask where I could purchase one he got really stern and asked me why I wanted one. I told him I was very interested in different cultures, this being 100% true, while there I read several books on Iraqi history and customs.
The other reason was because it was getting cold, and my mode of transportation was an ATV. Imagine ridding on an ATV in the desert where there are no hills, its is flat, so even a wind of 5mph picks up the fine dust which you are driving through at 25-35mph. By this time of year it is cold in the morning, usually 55-60 degrees, and your neck is totally exposed. It does NOT feel good, really it doesn’t.
The third reason I wanted the scarf was just so I had something from Iraq that reminded me of the Iraq culture. Once I told him that, in not so many words because he understood the whole weather elements/sand thing. As soon as I mentioned the blowing wind and sand, he stated smiling again and came closer to me and said “I will have one for you tomorrow, come back tomorrow.”
The next day I went back to the laundry shop and he noticed me right away and called me over gesturing wildly for me to come over his way. It was quite comical since there were other military people inside dropping of their laundry they didn’t know what was going on and where staring wide eyed at me and the young Iraqi man. I walk towards the back of the shop which is not big to begin with anyway. He pulls out a red-checked scarf out a bag and hands it to me. I ask him how much he wants for it and he tells me it is free, that I can have it. I insist in paying him for it, but he insists on me having it for free. He gently smiles and says “take it, it is yours”. So I do and I thank him profusely, at this point I actually don’t know his name and he doesn’t know mine.
I ask him his name, and he says it is Alim, he asks my name and I tell him it is Filip. They told us in briefings not to talk to or interact with the foreign nationals working on the base, but I didn’t care. Not that I wasn’t brazened with it, this was actually the only Iraqi or foreign national I talked to or who knew my first name. So I didn’t see any harm in it.
A few days later I came by again and we got to talking and he told me that all these people working in this laundry, about a dozen people and the age ranging from about 15-55 it seemed, are his family. I was certain one of them was his brother because they looked alike but I didn’t even think the rest was his family. But after he told me it made sense, Iraqis are very family oriented and many businesses are run by the family.
We never really talked for long, not more than 10min and never did we talk about the situation going on all around us. I figure the last thing he needs is some white kid from America asking him about the war in Iraq when it is on HIS doorstep. Plus I figured if he wanted to talk about it he would bring it up, and he never did so I assumed that really was the last thing he wanted to talk about.
Another month went by and the laundry shop was gone, apparently their contract expired and the military was not renewing it. I felt so bad for them, I am sure they were making a decent living doing this, and now they didn’t have a job anymore. I wonder to this day what happened to them all after they left. I actually worry sometimes when I hear about the daily bombings if Alim was hurt or killed or any of his family was hurt. I certainly hope they are all ok and unhurt.
That is one thing that people seem to forget or ignore is Iraqi civilians are the ones who suffer the most as a result of this conflict. You rarely hear about them and their suffering all which is said about the civilians is numbers, how many were killed today and how many wounded. That is all they are, numbers, and people do not even seem to care. By some estimates over half a million have been killed or wounded in 4 years of war. Can you imagine half a million people being killed here in America?
I still have the scarf and I hung it up in my room, every day I look at it and remember Alim and his family.
