A Day of Service - Day 6 in Iraq

A Day of Service: Day 6 Back in Iraq by Steve Clemens

The action was purely symbolic. After our tax dollars were spent creating rubble in this land of early civilization, it is time Americans started cleaning up the mess that was created by our destructive obsessions. Picking up litter and debris from a neighborhood street is designed as a symbolic act of repentance (I didn’t pack sackcloth in my suitcase for this trip) as well as an act of humility for Americans who came as conquerors rather than partners.

Members of the Muslim Peacemaker Team as well as a representative of the NGO organizing Najaf as the 2012 Cultural Capital of the Islamic World joined with us in picking up in the neighborhood where Sami Rasouli resides. I was honored to have his youngest son, Omer, just turned 5 years old, as my partner. He held the trash bag as I picked up and then I held it for him. Several of the neighbors came out to see what we were doing and some wanted to take photos as well.

Sami described the virtually non-existent garbage collection process for neighborhoods which are not part of the downtown tourist area and remarked, “If you are a Prince and I am a Prince, who will lead the donkey?” as an explanation why many men in the Arab culture stand by and let the women do a lot of the work. He hopes to break the stereotype and Omer was eager to join us.

Actually today was a day which called for a lot of flexibility. We no longer had access to the Foreign Ministry’s vehicles for today so MPT secured some 4 seat pick-up trucks and some cars to transport us with MPT members as drivers. Last night we decided that today we would go to a school as a brief stop before our service project to distribute the letters Jess Sundin gave me from her daughter Leila’s class. The original plan was for ½ the group to go to the girls elementary school and the other half to the boys school across the street but we all ended up at the girls school.

After being greeted by a supervisor/inspector from the Education Ministry, the Principal told us she had a brother who lives in Minnesota who is married to a woman from Lebanon. She welcomed us and introduced us to one of the teachers of English. I read the letter Jess had written to the school and Sami translated it so all could understand and showed them the photo of the Leila’s class. The teacher suggested we give the letter to the sixth grade English class since the students would better be able to read the English words.

The girls smiled broadly and greeted us as we entered and Sami asked me to say a few words before distributing the 16 letters. Since there weren’t enough letters for the approximately 25 girls, the teacher handed them out to each recipient. Each “letter” had a dove on the backside which the American students had decorated. That small gesture of reaching out to other students will hopefully help these future leaders of Iraq see at least some Americans in a different light than the fear and anger they experienced during the occupation.

The plan was to do the trash pickup and then travel to the local Al Sadr organization – a “Black Panther-style nationalist” group who show their solidarity with the poor by service programs. By their opponents they are mostly know for their militancy but by those who receive necessary aid, they become heroes. Alas, it was not to happen today as our schedule kept slipping. The school visit, designed for 20 minutes lasted almost an hour and then we walked nearby to see where Sami and his family lives. Their baby had been fussy the other evening so we missed seeing Suad and Roi’ea but we got to spend time with them this morning. The home is simple but welcoming.

Sami explained to us how the water filter works in his home. First he filled a small bowl with filtered water from his wall-mounted unit and then a second bowl of water from the tap – city water from Najaf. After it set for a minute and both appeared to the naked eye to be alike, Sami put a saline tester into first the filtered water, then the tap. As he was doing this, he explained that 1-120 was acceptable for drinking. The filtered water scored 31 and the initial reading for the tap water was a little over 120. Sami said, “Oh, I should have shaken the filtered water out of the device before measuring but even before he could, Deborah, who was filming this “experiment” exclaimed, “Wait, Sami, the numbers are continuing to go up!” She counted over 200, over 300, up and up until it stopped at 986. But Sami wasn’t finished his demonstration. He next took an electrolyzer, similar to an immersable hot water heater, placed it in the cup of filtered water and plugged it in. As it heated the water toward boiling, it grew amber in color from the minerals in the water reacting to the heat. Next the tap water. As it heated up, it grew darker and darker until almost pitch black. He removed the electrolyzer, stirred the tap water and we were both amazed and horrified as he said, “Many of the poor families have only this to drink because they can’t afford a filter or the bottled water.

Sobered by the stark inequalities, I still needed to demonstrate my faith in the water filters that my wife Christine and I have contributed toward under the IARP Water For Peace program. I asked Sami if I could drink a glass of his filtered water and he handed me a glass filled to the brim. It tasted fine, and now, eight hours later I am still fine. Others in the group might not have been ready to drink up but a half an hour later when Suad, ever the gracious hostess brought it a tray full of glasses of filtered water, almost all the others drank as well. I’m convinced this Water For Peace project is a life-saver.

After learning about the present realities of trash pick up and sanitation in Najaf from Sami, we did our service project, washed up thoroughly afterwards and then walked to lunch since it was now too late to meet with the al Sadr people.

The sumptuous meal took quite a while of our afternoon, having to move from one table to another for our desert and then wait for the tea to be served at the end. By the time we left the restaurant, it was time for our bridge vigil to begin but we did not bring the signs with us. The original plan had us returning to the guest house for a rest before the vigil. Instead, Sami asked if he could drive us to one of Najaf’s poorest neighborhoods. When delegations from Iraq come to Minneapolis, the city tour they receive does not usually include either the near Northside or Phillips Neighborhoods. I know Islamic Cultural Capital folk won’t include this neighborhood either but Sami wants us to see all sides of the reality of Iraq today. After all, if our guest house is a former Saddam palace, we need to experience the other side as well.

Sami takes us to the home of a man who worked as his gardener several years ago. He graciously invites us in and brings carpet for us to sit alongside the walls of his courtyard/garage because the lights have gone out in his house and he is not on the private generator list for the supplement. Actually, no one is on the list in this neighborhood because you don’t see all the additional wires connecting each house. Our host pours the men coffee as the women go to the side of the house to greet his wife and children. He tells us 14 live in his 200 square meter house and the man next to him has 23 people in his house.

Although we dropped in unannounced, the room quickly fills with other men who want to meet his visitors. As we prepare to leave, he asks us if we will return tomorrow because he’d like to host us for dinner! Sami tells us, “Please just tell him thank you (in Arabic) and I’ll respond to him.” These people are the salt of the earth and we are honored that they can receive us as friends. They may never meet the Governor while he will entertain us later in the week. Something to ponder as we close another full day.  

Day 5 in Iraq

What We Take For Granted: Day 5 in Iraq by Steve Clemens

It struck me in the middle of the night – why did it take so long to upload my photos to my blog? Only when one of my room lights mysteriously went on at 12:30 AM did I make the connection: certain outlets or fixtures are on only when the national power grid is on; others stay functioning when the generator is running because the power is down. Here I thought maybe the light bulb was defective when in reality it was my assumption that electricity should work all the time.

I remember the panic I went into 10 years ago in Baghdad when as a matter of habit I rinsed my toothbrush after brushing with the tap water – momentarily forgetting that I was told clearly that only bottled water was safe in sanctions-riddled Iraq just before the war. Again, I take safe drinking water for granted. Here we must stick to bottled water because the water treatment plants have not yet been restored to a healthful state.

It might be easier on my nerves if I didn’t sit in the front seat of the vehicles that ferry us from site to site here because the drivers are not only aggressive cutting in and out of traffic – there really isn’t any specific lane the cars and trucks stick to. Because there are so many bridges, underpasses, and highways under construction we frequently are making U turns and it often seems to me that the oncoming traffic doesn’t plan to stop for us. So far, praise be, we haven’t wrecked although a guy on a motorcycle glanced off the car in front of the one I was in the other day and our driver rolled down his window to be sure he was OK before taking off.

Air. The dirt seems to hang in the air for several days after the mini-sandstorm we had on Saturday. Locals tell me it takes a good steady rain to really clear it and so far we’ve had “rain” two or three times, including thunder and lightning last night, but not enough to wash the grit from the sky. Again, I take clean air for granted.

Food. Arab hospitality here seems to go overboard in the quantities of food we are served at almost every meal. I assume a lot of it goes to waste but I’m not around when the scraps are picked up. Does it go to the poor, to the wild dogs outside, to employees’ homes, or just in the trash? I fight the urge not to care about such important justice matters yet want to be a gracious recipient of the hospitality. I take it for granted that I’ll have enough to eat; many others in our world do not.

History. This morning we traveled to a smaller town, Al-Mishkab and met with the mayor of a town which (he claimed) was settled before either Kufa or Najaf. Resting beside the Euphrates River, it is (or was) an archeological treasure trove because of the nearby 50+ sites dating back to when Christians and Jews were the primary residents – well before the founding of Islam. However, in 2003 after the U.S. invasion and occupation, many of these sites have been looted of the ancient artifacts by “foreigners”. Because they were speaking in Arabic, I couldn’t discern if the predominate feeling was one of anger or great sadness about the grave robbers but it was clear that they held the U.S. responsible. After all, U.S. troops famously stood aside as the Baghdad Museum was looted and trashed, instead protecting the Ministry of Oil. Secretary of War Rumsfeld laconically said, “Shit happens” when it comes to war - as if it was inevitable.

We drove out past farming villages raising cattle to see one of the areas where numerous holes had been dug and where shards of pottery were scattered around the empty holes. Farmers were threshing their rice several hundred yards in the distance. There was a definite sense of melancholy in looking at the empty holes realizing the amount of grave robbing that occurred. I often take for granted that people will respect history but there are always some interested in seeking a quick profit instead.

Food and water. Our next stop nearby led us past acres of rice fields irrigated by the nearby Euphrates. We visited a rice research facility and talked with the manager. He told us of all the various varieties of rice and especially focused on the amber rice produced in that area of Iraq which commanded high prices for its quality, taste, and the labor needed to bring it to market. He was especially concerned about the significant drop in the water level of the Euphrates and its growing salinization, both of which were affected by the dams Turkey has placed on the river before it enters Iraq. The Fertile Crescent, Mesopotamia, won’t be so fertile without water to grow the food.

There has been a lot to learn as part of this Sister City/Reconciliation delegation. Too often I take for granted my ability to fly halfway around the globe for peace and justice, failing to remember what responsibilities need to go hand-in-hand with my privileges.   

Day 4

An Eclectic Mix: Schools, Commerce, Cemeteries, and Ice Cream – Day 4 in Iraq by Steve Clemens

Our schedule was shifted for today when we noticed our school visits were on the itinerary for Friday when schools are closed for the weekly religious day. So off we traveled to three different schools. The elementary school principal met us but had to check with the local Ministry of Education before giving us access to the classrooms. Since the class we visited was 6 year-old girls, Joan Haan brought out the pictures and notes written by children from St. Paul’s Pilgrim Lutheran Church.

The girls beamed with excitement because of the attention they received from visitors from far away. I gave them each a packet of Skittles or Starburst candy from an after-Halloween sale but none of the girls opened it right away, carefully watching their teacher interact with these strangers. We couldn’t stay very long with two other schools to visit but did manage to photograph the water filter in the bathroom installed a year ago by the Muslim Peacemaker Team. Sami checked it out to make sure it was functioning properly and to check to see when the filter would need to be replaced.

As we gathered to leave, a cowbell was rung to signify either class change or recess time and young girls piled out of the dozen or so classrooms, some bold enough to come close to these visitors – some staring, some smiling. When we took out our cameras, they definitely were interested and acted as all kids from elementary age would – embarrassment, pleasure, curiosity, … . It was clear that after we left, the other classes were going to ask the students from the class we visited what these Americans were like.

The second stop was at a school for the blind and the Principal told us there were only 6 or 7 of them in the country and this school provided services for about 30 children. One student demonstrated how he used the computer with headphones and other adaptive equipment while a younger student read letters from a braille sheet after instruction from a teacher. This school too had a recently installed MPT water filter.

At the High School we discovered the Superintendent was an old classmate of Sami Rasouli, Sameera served as an Administrator, and Mohammed was a graduate of that program: an MPT triple-header. Our delegation split up to go to different classes and I went to a biology class and then an English language class. The students were bright and engaged. The Superintendent asked Kathy McKay if our Sister City program could secure 5-6 scholarships to colleges in Minnesota and we will certainly pass their interest on to the University of MN and other Twin Cities area schools.

Next stop was at the Najaf Chamber of Commerce and a visit with my good friend, Zuhair Sharba, the Chairman of a bustling and growing enterprise. Besides seeking new business partnerships and job opportunities, the center also has a small business program, a special program for women looking to start businesses or needing expert advice and assistance, and an arbitration center to resolve disputes which might arise when international companies try to fit their programs into Iraq’s reality.

After meeting their board and staff, touring their facilities, and exchanging greetings and gifts, we were treated to a delicious lunch of fresh-grilled carp, chicken, vegetables and spreads, and fresh fruit. We didn’t sit down to eat until after 3 PM so some of us were fairly ravenous.

Trying to return to our previous schedule, we decided to drive by the world’s largest cemetery – it literally goes for miles – and then ended up on the upper deck of a parking ramp which overlooked a vast section of the place where most Shia Muslims hope their family members can be buried. The cemetery is more than a thousand years old and one looks over a sea of graves stretching into the horizon. In the background from where we stand at sunset is the brightly lit golden dome of the Shrine of Imam Ali, the reason for the popularity of the cemetery. After posing for the requisite photo, the group decides since we ate lunch so late – and most of us ate too much – that we’d forgo supper and instead stop at “Ice Pack”, an ice cream shop opened by a cousin of Ali, our photographer and media liaison for the delegation. Never needing a reason to celebrate with ice cream, we at least had the excuse that Deborah’s checked luggage finally arrived from the airport this morning and she now has a fresh set of clothes and other essentials – four days after first arriving.

I arrived back at the guest house tired but also needing to download my photos and write up another report for friends back home. Iraqis continue to want partnerships with us and make us feel so welcome despite the recent war and all the suffering which ensued. Iraq still has many needs but they are striving everyday to try to regain what they had before the wars and economic sanctions. Our delegation is a tangible sign of hope that a new a vibrant relationship can be had with at least some Americans. Hopefully, as we get over our fears and stereotypes, those relationships can grow and blossom.  

Day 3 in Iraq

Diplomacy By Facebook: Day 3 in Iraq by Steve Clemens

Sunday in Iraq is the beginning of the workweek so when we drove to the University of Kufa in the morning there was a myriad of students present. We met with Dr. Azar, a dermatologist I had met in Minneapolis when he was part of the inaugural Sister City delegation in 2009. He showed us his laser and UV equipment he uses in his practice and told us a lot about medical schools and research happening at the University which promises to be in on the cutting edge of graduate education in Iraq and ultimately in the Middle East. Later in the morning several of us were asked to do PowerPoint presentations about some of our work and passion in the Twin Cities. But what really grabbed me was the enthusiasm of the young students who are eager to meet us and share their dreams and goals.

And they ask about connecting with us on Facebook. When I asked Mohammed about connecting with me in this social media revolution, he spelled out his name so I could find him and “friend” him. I searched that evening finding at least a dozen men, most if not all Iraqis, with that same name so, being 62 and of a generation which has to ask our offspring how to do things computer-wise, I asked Mohammed if he’d send me a request thru Facebook to be my friend and then I could just say “Yes!”

However, to the chagrin of both of us, when he brought in his laptop and connected to the wi-fi network here at the guest house, he typed in my name only to discover we were already friends! Apparently thru Sami Rasouli he had befriended Luke Wilcox, our (only) staff member at the Iraqi & American Reconciliation Project when he traveled to Najaf last year to improve his Arabic. When I received a “friend” request in Arabic several months ago, I forwarded it to Luke asking if he knew who this person was before saying yes. Luke assured me the person behind the unintelligible (to me) Arabic scrawl was someone I’d want to connect with.

The problem for me was when I searched for Mohammed on my computer I couldn’t find him because the only name on his account was in Arabic and I don’t know how to begin to do that on my laptop. Furthermore, I confessed to my new friend that I’ve probably let some of the paranoia of the FBI infiltrate my own mind. After all, the homes of several of my friends in Minneapolis were raided by the FBI several years ago under the preposterous claim that they were giving “material support to terrorists”. Preposterous most of all since none of them have much in the way of material resources that they haven’t already poured into their anti-war and justice advocacy work. Because of their continued experience of being under suspicion (and threatened serious legal challenge) I’ve probably been too cautious in reaching out to others who speak a language I can’t comprehend.

But now that I’ve met Mohammed face-to-face and discover that he is not only on the faculty of the College of Pharmacy at the University, teaches computer science, and helps the Muslim Peacemaker Team with communications, he is also a great guy and fun to hang out with. He already has show my fellow delegate Joan how to better maneuver on her Facebook account and promises to help me as well.

And I’ve met Ahmed, friended him on Facebook, and he tells me about his exciting work in planting trees to not only beautify his nation but also help protect its environment. After I met him our first night, he had already sent me a “friend” request before I got back to the guest house that same evening. When I saw him the next morning at the souk in the “old city” section of Najaf, he smiled and told his buddies that he and I were already [Facebook] friends – as well as also being on track to becoming more than just friends in the virtual world. We hope our delegation can schedule some time to plant trees with him and his organization before we leave Mesopotamia.

At the University presentations, Deborah, one of our delegation spoke out clearly about wanting to empower the voices of women in our world and it was fascinating to see several young women crowd around her afterward – and then another group of female students came by to talk with her as we were finishing our lunch at a campus restaurant/hangout. I’m grateful to witness their enthusiasm especially when women are so “covered” and often out-of-sight in much of this conservative Shia culture.   

Several other young people inquire if any of us are on Facebook, hungry for relationships with these unarmed American visitors. Citizen-to-citizen diplomacy is greatly facilitated when we discover not only that we like each other but also we share so many similar dreams and challenges.