Perspectives, An Intriguing Tale of an American Born Terrorist (16 page)

Uncle Tariq’s and Aunt Sonda’s home was a very plain stucco house painted a light earth tone color with 3 small bedrooms, one bathroom, a den and small kitchen with an eating area large enough for a typical Western dinette set. Except for a refrigerator and stove, and a stacked washer and dryer there were no appliances and no air conditioning, or heating systems. They had one 19 inch television that was a brand I had never heard of and looked like something from a past generation, with no remote control and a rabbit ear antenna. The floors were all red Spanish style tile that Aunt Sonda was constantly sweeping to pick up the dust and sand that blew in when the door was open, or that was tracked in from the dusty streets. Their furniture was inexpensive and cheap by American standards, but everything was comfortable, extremely clean and well taken care of and typical for a middle class Iraqi household. Compared to our 9 bedroom, 6 bath monstrosity in New Haven, the house was miniscule, the furnishings were unstylish and dated, and the lack of central heating and cooling made it comparable to living in a furnished garage, even though our garage was much larger and a bit nicer. The desert environment was difficult for me to get used to. It was sweltering during the day and like a refrigerator at night. I was amazed that even with much heavier dress, neither Aunt Sonda nor Islee seemed to sweat. I walked around the house soaking wet during the day, wearing just a t-shirt and a pair of shorts. The house always had a strange smell, which at first I didn’t like, but in time grew accustomed to. It was a mixture of spices, some used for cooking, others in baskets of potpourri and some in personal hygiene. It reminded me of the smell just before springtime when the dead vegetation killed by winter gives way to the new birth of grasses, flowers and leaves of spring.

My cousin Islee taught me the basics of the Muslim religion, and she was often impatient when she explained to me the Muslim understanding of prayer and conscience. She was okay explaining it, but was terribly impatient with my questions.

“We are taught to pray 5 times a day,” she said. “And the hours change depending on the time of year. That’s why you see so many Mosques, because when you are about your day and you need to pray there’s always a Mosque nearby. Mohammed taught us to be rather practical.”

“What do you pray about?” I asked. “Do you have specific prayers?”

She looked at me and shrugged her shoulders.

“You know, prayers that are written in books that you memorize. The Catholics do it and so do the Jews, and even the Protestants have certain prayers.”

She looked at me still confused, “Why would you want someone else’s prayer?”

It was a good question. “I don’t know, maybe because you can’t think of one yourself or you need some spiritual guidance.”

“I don’t know how anyone could have a shortage of things to pray about. Maybe the Catholics and Jews have fewer problems than we do. Mohammed didn’t tell us what to pray, just to pray and make our peace with God and then we leave.”

“Is there a set amount of time that you need to pray? Is this a timed thing?”

She laughed, “Is there a set amount of time to this conversation?”

I got her point and felt stupid. For a 13 year old she was working me over pretty well.

“No there isn’t a set time. You say your prayer and then you leave; some people do it quickly, others take more time. And you have to face Mecca and please don’t ask me why.”

“I think I know that one. But why 5 times a day?” I asked.

“Because that’s what Mohammed told us to do and he’s our Prophet. It’s obviously what’s necessary! If Jesus told you to pray 5 times a day, would you ask him why?”

“Maybe, in one of my prayers.”

She laughed, “Well, I tell you what, we’ll go to the Mosque today and you can ask Mohammed, but if you offend him you’ll be cursed for life.”

“Really, you believe that?”

“You’re too easy,” she giggled. “But believe me, it’s not a bad thing, you know to pray 5 times a day, it really makes you feel good.”

I shrugged my shoulders, telling her that I wouldn’t know.

She continued with my lesson, “Mohammed also taught that every person is assigned two angels, one that encourages good and one that encourages evil and they are both fighting with each other and keeping score on who is winning.”

I chuckled, “You really believe that?”

She looked at me a little shocked, “Of course! Haven’t you ever felt the war inside you between good and evil, right and wrong?”

“Yes, but in the Christian world we call it conscience.”

“Conscience, two angels, what’s the difference,” she answered. “There’s something in there isn’t there?”

“So who’s winning in there?” I said pointing to her heart.

“It depends, some days good, some days bad.”

I put my arm around her and gave her a hug and dug my fingers into her ribs until she collapsed with laughter, “There’s something in there alright.”

Day and night I studied the Koran that I had borrowed from my Uncle. At first the language in the Koran seemed quite judgmental and brutal to all other religions, but I stayed committed to finishing it, trying to understand the context. My first real intellectual confrontation about religion with my uncle came when he saw me reading his sacred book as I sat on the living room couch.

“What do you think you’re going to find in there?” asked my uncle half joking as he walked into the room and sat on the couch next to me.

“I’ve been reading it for a while and I’m not finding much,” I answered sarcastically.

“That is because you are a heathen and not enlightened,” he replied tersely.

I snapped back. “A heathen is a derogatory term used by the uneducated and besides a wise man once told me that as soon as one race of people determines that they are good and that another is evil then that is the beginning of genocide.”

He tried to remain serious but couldn’t hold his stern expression and broke into laughter and then put his arm around my shoulder, “You are too smart and have too good a memory. I’m going to have to stop educating you, if you are going to use my own words against me. But I am very curious, tell me what you think you will find in that book.”

“I don’t know, perhaps the reasons why no one in my world likes you and why you dress the way you do and why you eat all that weird food, and why your house smells the way it does, you know all that stuff.”

“You really think all of that is in there?”

“I haven’t found much of it yet.”

“You are confusing culture with faith. They are different you know,” he explained. “So you’re not finding much about our culture, but you’ve been studying the Koran for a little while, I’m curious to know the difference between what you perceive our faith to be as compared to yours.”

I tried to cop out by saying, “I’m not through, so I can’t really tell you yet.”

“But you’ve read enough to start forming an opinion. I’m curious to know what you think about our book and our messengers,” he answered. “You understand we have more than one?”

I looked at him with a blank stare,

“You thought that we believed Mohammed was God, correct?”

I nodded.

“He was just a messenger, the same as Moses and Jesus. So tell me what you think of the Koran?”

I knew that he wasn’t going to let me alone until I talked to him, so I answered, “Two words, extremely judgmental.”

“Judgmental of what?” he asked already knowing the answer.

“Pagans, heathens, non-believers, people like me who are outside your faith.”

“Does it say that, or is that how you’re reading it.”

“I would say that it is pretty clear that all other faiths are going to be harshly judged by God. And when I say harsh, I mean Hell.”

“And your Bible is not judgmental?” “You asked me about the Koran and not my Bible, but yes, the Old and New Testament can be somewhat judgmental. But Jesus was the Son of God.”

“Be careful. The Koran has a whole section on Jesus and in his prayer to God, he confesses that he never told people he was the son of God. It is one of the most beautiful prayers in the Koran. God asks him and he replies, ‘God you are the almighty and you know my heart and everything I do. You know that I have never portrayed myself to be your son.’”

“But that is your Koran’s opinion.”

Uncle Tariq snapped back, “The Koran is the infallible word of God. Every word in it has proven to be true. Do you know Mohammed wrote of the Universe expanding when all the scientists of the world said it was contracting? But guess what, the new telescopes are saying that it is growing. And Mohammed never confessed to being anything other than a messenger. Before he died he had the people confirm that he had never claimed to be God.”

I interrupted him, “I just get the feeling when I’m reading the Koran that, excuse me for saying this, but it seems like the writing of some guy who’s trying to use guilt to build a religion and then damning the rest of the world. To me, it doesn’t seem at all inspired.”

“What you’ve just described to me is Christianity. You don’t think Jesus and then the Apostles and then the Christian Church used guilt?” He laughed out loud. “I think they invented the use of it, and I don’t think anyone has ever done it better. What you described is an exclusive God with an exclusive path to heaven, with everyone else going to Hell. That my dear is Christianity.”

“And also Islam,” I responded.

“But Islam has some wiggle room. The Koran talks about other Prophets that we don’t know and God’s ability to do anything. Have you read the story about the prostitute and the cat?”

I shook my head no.

“A prostitute who was steeped in sin fed a neglected cat. When Mohammed asked a student what would happen to the woman, the student answered that she would go to Hell for her sins. But Mohammed said that she would go to heaven for that one act of kindness. Does your Christian God have this same flexibility?”

“That sounds very similar to the criminal hanging next to Jesus on the cross.”

“Well there you have it. The only difference is that Mohammed didn’t have the authority to send a person to heaven or hell. Christianity says that Jesus did. You also mentioned inspiration, that the words of Mohammed seem like the words of man. So you think that your Bible is inspired?”

“Frankly, parts of it yes. The Psalms for example and the Gospels and Proverbs.”

“Did you notice that David is in the Koran?”

“Yes.”

“And Psalms?”

“I did.”

“And what about Jesus?”

“He’s in there, too.”

“And yet you say the Koran’s uninspired. Let me tell you what I think and forgive me for over generalizing. I think that you were brought up with the Bible and you are familiar with it and you associate familiarity with inspiration. Granted, Islam is a younger religion than Christianity, but Mohammed was as inspired by God as any of the other prophets. If you study the Koran closely, you will find most of your patriarchs. Some Muslims also study the Bible. The difference is that we don’t put as much stock in the Old and New Testament as you because we believe it has been corrupted by the Jews and Christians over time and cannot be taken literally. If you’ve ever read the arguments and manipulations by the early councils as to what was included and what excluded in the New Testament, you would not be so adamant on inspiration and understand that it is was the work of the Church. There were far more than 4 Gospels you know? But the Koran is different, it was the collective work of one divinely inspired man and we believe that his words are pure and can be taken literally.”

“So, if Muslims think that our Bible has been corrupted, why do you study it?” I asked.

“We Muslims learn from everything and there are great lessons in the Old and New Testaments. We believe that all of those great men really lived and that the Patriarchs were great prophets but Abraham was the greatest prophet of all, the father of all prophets. Mohammed was the last great messenger. He told us to pray 5 times a day, so we pray 5 times a day.”

“Yes, Islee told me that.”

He smiled, thinking of his daughter conveying the faith. “She is a sweet girl, but she can be a little wild.”

I thought of all the things that she hinted about and didn’t answer, but Uncle Tariq read my face and his expression changed. He continued with his explanation. “Mohammed also tells us that each of us should make a pilgrimage to Mecca and the holy temple at Medina.”

“Have you ever been to Mecca?” I asked.

“Yes, I made the Pilgrimage 18 years ago when I was 25. When I first saw the great monument, I was so moved that my legs gave way and I fell to the ground.” The memory brought tears to his eyes.

“What was the Mosque like?”

“The mosque was in Medina. In Mecca we get in procession and walk in circles around the holy obelisk, like the angels. The mosque in Medina is like all the others, very plain on the inside, mostly marble, fabulous architecture but filled with the Spirit of God. There were so many people that I had to stand in line for nearly 6 hours before I could enter and pray. It was the sweetest prayer I have ever prayed and Allah was there as thick as a cloud. Mohammed was right, everyone needs that experience.”

I listened spellbound, wishing that I had a faith that would provide me with that much conviction. “I asked about the similarity between Christian and Muslim holidays.

Uncle Tariq shook his head as if there weren’t any similarities and then explained. “One month a year is Ramadan and during that month we do not eat food from sun up to sun down.”

“Kind of like the Catholic lent?”

Uncle Tariq laughed, “Similar, I guess it has the same self-sacrificing intent, but I don’t know many Catholics who fast for a month.”

“Well, you’re not really fasting either. You eat when the sun goes down and from what I’ve picked up you don’t just eat, you gorge.”

He laughed again, “You’ve been talking to Islee. I’m afraid that many of the young people have turned Ramadan into kind of a joke. They eat and drink all night and sleep all day. It has turned into one of the least productive months of the year for us. But for those of us that practice our religion as it was intended, Ramadan is a great blessing.” He scratched his chin as if he had said enough about that, “Now let’s see what other differences we have between our religions…hmmh. Everything else is pretty much the same. We don’t eat pork like the Jews, and we dedicate our lives to try to do good like you Christians.