CPTnet
April 19, 2004

IRAQ: Friday afternoon with an Iraqi friend

by Matt Chandler

[Note: The following was written before the team evacuated from Baghdad on
April 14, 2004.]

Early on a Friday afternoon, Musa, a good friend of the team, stopped by
the CPT apartment in Baghdad to say hello, as he does often. He invited me
and anyone else who wanted to come to his house for an impromptu visit.
Others were busy, but I seized the opportunity.

As we stepped out of the CPT apartment and headed to the main street to
catch a taxi, Musa grabbed my hand in his and said in his limited English,
"This, friend in Iraq."

We pulled up in front of a mixed-use building in a residential neighborhood
in northeast Baghdad. Musa said, "This, my home." He kept repeating,
"Welcome. Welcome," as he led me through the door and into the sitting
room.

He told me that he spent thirteen months in prison between 1999 and 2000
for reasons of which he is still unsure. (He suspects, however, it had
something to do with the fact that he printed world maps with Israel and
Kuwait on them.) He showed me his toe, from which his nail was pulled, and
a scar on his calf where he was burned with a hot prod. Then he
demonstrated how he was forced to hang from the ceiling by his hands tied
behind his back for long hours. He said he now suffers chronic spinal pain
from hanging in such a position. "I give thanks my God I am alive," he said
with a smile.

At about 4:30, Musa's wife, Shayma, called that lunch was ready. Musa
invited me to sit on the floor, saying, "The Iraqi people love to eat this
way." During the meal, every time I finished half of the food on my plate,
Musa piled some more on. My legs
almost went numb from sitting so long in a position unusual to me, but the
meal was wonderful.

After an hour-long nap, Musa brought in a cold cup of soda and some treats.
My stomach was still full, but he insisted I eat at least two of the little
cakes. When I finished, Musa went out with the empty cup and tray and
returned with a little white envelope. "This, for your sister," he said,
"from my wife." He opened the envelope and pulled out a matching set of
jewelry: a necklace, earrings and a ring. "Made by hand by the brother of
my wife," he explained. Astounded, I said, "Thank you so much." "Welcome,"
replied Musa, "Very welcome."

 Musa rode all the way back to my apartment with me in the taxi and walked
me right up to the door to my building. "Okay. Please, you need
anything?" he asked. "No," I said, "You have given me too much already.
Thank you very much." "Welcome anytime," he said with a smile.