This is a piece of short fiction by D. J. Mitchell
Epilogue
I sit on an overstuffed couch, the leather cool against my skin. The quiet hum of the air conditioner reminds me that my present comfort is artificial: the unusual humidity outside brings back memories of the tropics.
I wear shorts and a t-shirt, my flip-flops on the carpeted floor in front of me and my legs folded in a half-lotus. My shirt says, in a half dozen languages, “Peace.”
Behind the desk, Dr. White keeps his face impassive, but his eyes tell me I have disturbed him with my narrative.
“How did that make you feel?” he asks.
“Feel?” I repeat. “Angry. Terrified. Outraged. Powerless. I don’t know.”
This is a piece of short fiction by D. J. Mitchell
It’s thunder, I think: a low rumble that drags me from the depths of sleep. Then, as consciousness returns, I hear it again: boom. It’s not thunder, but what can it be? Silence reigns for a long moment, and I almost drift off to sleep. Then it hits again: Boom. Now I realize what it is: artillery.
I listen to three more, and then rouse myself from bed. I’m not going to sleep anymore tonight.
I slip out of the mosquito net, instinctively adjust my sarong, and pad barefoot through the darkness to the common room.
In the distance I hear it again: Boom.
I realize now that the shells are falling several miles off, not close enough to shake the building, though the air seems to quiver with each explosion.
“Army,” I mutter.
“Yes,” comes a reply, startling me. In the darkness, I spin toward the sound, and can barely make out the figure sitting in one of the chairs. Though I can’t really see him, I realize that the voice is Richard’s.
“It’s started,” I observe.
“Yes,” he replies. “But if the army is shelling at this hour, it means they’ve been attacked. LTTE drew first blood. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have a target.”
I sigh. “Five miles off?” I guess.
I sense more than see him shrug in the darkness. “Something like that,” he says.
This is a piece of short fiction by D. J. Mitchell
The day stretches longer. By late afternoon, the wind dies and the air becomes very still. No birds cry in the trees, no children play in the street. The rattling engine of a lone motorbike somewhere in the distance serves only to emphasize that nothing else moves.
“The calm before the storm,” I say. “It’s been feeling like that since we left Anuradhapura.”
“There’s no fighting up here,” Richard assures me. “The army is kicking the LTTE’s ass in the East, but there’s nothing happening here.”
“Do not be afraid of sudden panic, or of the storm that strikes the wicked; for the Lord will be your confidence and will keep your foot from being caught,” Zander quotes.
“Proverbs 3:25,” says McMurphy, not looking up from his journal. Zander reads a worn paperback copy of a book titled Peace, Justice, and Jews. He earlier commented that much of the world sees that as an oxymoron. Now he says nothing.
Richard sits in meditation, breathing slowly.
I try to read Gandhi’s autobiography, a book I have wanted to read for years but never found the time for. Now I have time, and nothing else to do—but find myself unable to concentrate.
This is a piece of short fiction by D. J. Mitchell
As we turn a corner, two men with guns confront us. Richard gasps audibly, and I realize belatedly that I have gasped, too.
“Ah,” says Subhuti, as he turns to us and smiles. “These are our Home Guards. They protect us.” He introduces them, but speaks their names so fast I don’t understand him. I smile and pretend I do.
The two boys appear to be in their teens. Both wear shabby olive drab shirts, probably army surplus, over worn sarongs. Both smile proudly as they are introduced.
“May I take their picture?” Zander asks, smiling back at them and producing a camera.
Subhuti consults the two boys in their own language. The boys grin and nod. They straighten their clothing and stand straight, their rifle butts resting on the ground and held by the barrel.
Zander takes several pictures, and Richard produces a little digital camera and snaps a few also. He shows the result to the boys: a tiny photo on the small screen. Both boys break into enormous grins, clearly amazed at what they see. Surely they’ve seen photographs in the newspaper, and perhaps they have even seen a camera. But it’s clear that they’ve never seen a photo of themselves before.
This is a piece of short fiction by D. J. Mitchell
By eight-thirty, the four of us have shaved and washed up at the temple well, left an appropriate donation in the till, and reassembled our bags. We meet at the temple gate and file down the road in order of ascending height: Zander, Richard, me, and McMurphy. I can’t help but notice that neither of the two religious folks carries much in the way of luggage. McMurphy carries a very small backpack, and Zander has a large fanny pack. They apparently pack like Sri Lankans.
I glance down at my backpack and feel inexplicably like an “ugly American.”
Zander whistles “Hi ho, hi ho, it’s off to work we go.” An old woman shredding coconut outside a small home stares at us as we pass. We’re probably the strangest procession she’s seen in years. A white guy parade.
At the bus stand, there are no buses. The only bus that runs goes to and from Kebithigollewa is the bus we came in on the night before. It has already left for its return journey, and the next bus isn’t due for hours. But we’re not here for a bus.
Richard approaches the six tuk-tuks, perhaps the same six posted there last night.
This is a piece of short fiction by D. J. Mitchell.
It’s well dark by the time we reach Padaviya. As we enter the town, we see few lights on. Near the bus stand there’s a hotel—or what the Sri Lankans call a hotel, which is actually an open-air restaurant. Here and there we see lights in a window. But the town appears nearly deserted.
We disembark the bus, shuffling in line with two dozen other tired passengers. Unlike them, we don’t know where we’re going.
“Food?” I suggest.
“Always your first thought,” Richard replies.
“Always,” I agree.
“Let’s find out about getting to the village first,” he suggests.
“How do you plan to do that?” I ask.
“Easy,” he says. “Follow me.”
We approach one of a half dozen tuk-tuks, and Richard hands the driver a sheet of paper. On it is the name of the village written in English and Sinhala—helpful because neither of us can pronounce it in a way a Sinhala-speaker would understand.
“Can you take us?” Richard asks.
The driver studies the paper carefully. Then, without responding, he leans out of the cab and hands the paper to the driver of the next tuk-tuk, and speaks rapidly to him in Sinhala.
“Ah?” says the second driver, quizzically. He studies the paper as all four of the remaining drivers wake from their doze and gather around to see the excitement. There is rapid and unintelligible discussion. Then one of them nods and turns to us—probably the one with the best English.
“You cannot go tonight,” he says. “Terrorist problem.”
Terrorist problem is their way of saying the LTTE might get us. Which sometimes just means they don’t feel like it.
“We can pay,” I add.
“Yes, pay,” answers the driver. “But no tonight. Danger.” He makes a slashing gesture across his throat to emphasize his words.
“Damn,” I mutter.
“Where can we sleep tonight?” Richard asks.
Rapid discussion ensues, and I catch only the words “suduy”—white person—and “vihara”—temple.
“I guess we’re sleeping on the floor tonight,” I murmur to Richard.
“Why’s that?” he whispers back.
The driver answers for me. “Two people come today from Kandy,” he says. “But no guest house. They go to temple. Sometime you go, too.”
This week’s Fed decision to try to stimulate the economy confirmed what many already suspected: economic conditions are not good. Official statistics show that the rate of growth on the economy os slowing, and analysts are concerned about a long-term. Japan-style meltdown.
Despite a 10% rise in the Dow, unemployment remains stubbornly high. Nevada (14.2%), Michigan (13.2%), and California (12.3%) together represent over 3 million unemployed Americans. Some 128 cities have unemployment rates over 10%, and 12 have rates over 15%– ten of these are in California.
In the short term, analysts expect this to translate into an advantage for the GOP in the fall elections. Despite the GOP getting us into this mess, the failure of the Dems to get us out has hurt incumbents. And a desire for change means “the other guy” wins.
WSJ‘s Peggy Noonan has a darker assessment:
[D]o our political leaders have any sense of what people are feeling deep down? They don’t act as if they do… In Washington they don’t seem to be looking around and thinking, Hmmm, this nation is in trouble, it needs help. They’re thinking something else… They don’t seem to know or have a sense of the mood of the country. And so they make their moves, manipulate this issue and that, and keep things at a high boil. And this at a time when people are already in about as much hot water as they can take.”
She warns that we’re in danger of “boiling over.” And she’s right.
Rural America is outraged that “their” administration betrayed their values in favor of corporations, then got defeated by a bunch of liberals. Urban America is outraged that after eight years of corporate conservatism, “their” administration gave them not change, but more of the same. In short, Washington has alienated almost everyone outside the beltway. Their biggest fear should be that we figure out it wasn’t rural conservatives or urban liberals who did this to us– it was our elected officials of both parties who looted the treasury while they had us fighting each other.
Americans Left and Right are disgusted with the state of our national government. States from Arizona to California are passing legislation that defies federal law. And even some of our largest states have become dysfunctional– California can’t even pass a budget.
If we are to survive as a nation, we need change– and not just some political slogan by a guy the corporations have already bought and paid for. We need to stop looking for a one-size-fits-all solution to impose on our rivals. The Federal government isn’t going to fix us.
Let’s recognize that we have regional differences. What works in Los Angeles won’t work in rural Arkansas or Utah– and may not work in San Francisco, either.
Let’s recognize that power is the problem: so long as we’re fighting over who has it, we can’t get anything done. The federal government is too big and too intrusive.
I’m not suggesting that we eliminate medicare, social security, or the EPA, but I am suggesting that the assumption that everything can be and should be regulated by, fixed by, and funded by our central government deserves another, more critical look. Are we willing to sacrifice our liberty for some temporary (and elusive) security? I hope not. Are we willing to alienate our neighbors by forcing our religious views on them, be they for or against abortion, school prayer, same-sex marriage, or recreational drug and alcohol use? I hope not. Have we become so selfish that we imagine success means we have to have everything our own way, no matter who it angers? I hope not.
As a nation, we are on the verge of losing our cohesiveness. We need to find our common ground again– and that common ground is that we believe in the self-evident rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. We are Americans. We have always overcome adversity. And we have, since our inception, looked to our neighbors in our communities (not some distant power center) for our strength and support.
The American media have reacted with a delay that jet lag alone cannot explain. But the first reports of the correspondents are, in general, unfavorable to the Israeli argument. Only comments on Fox News insist on the “unknown” of the case and the threat posed by Hamas to Israel.
Le Monde reports that Israel’s attack on the humanitarian flotilla Monday, though overshadowed by both a long weekend and the massive BP oil spill (what perfect timing!) has caused the American media to do something it has rarely done in the past: show Israel in a less than favorable light.
It has also highlighted the schism between pro-Israel Jewish groups and progressive Jewish groups, with the latter condemning the attack. Still, American Jewish supporters of Israel remain undaunted:
Malcolm Hoenlein, chairman of the Conference of Presidents… says he is not “not worried” “Why should I be? When Americans know the facts, everyone will understand that this was a deliberate provocation carried out by Al Qaeda, Hamas and others to assist a terrorist entity.
Humanitarian aid an Al Queda plot? I thought they were more prone to bombings.
In any case, it appears that the attacks have had the effect of highlighting Israel’s contempt for the rule of law, and causing its supporters to grasp for increasingly implausible justifications. Perhaps, finally, American eyes are opening: a bully is a bully, even when they happen to be your ally.
(Thanks to Google Translate for its assistance with writing this article.)
This is the third in a series written by D. J. Mitchell and Susan Cain.
Susan has over 100 Muslim and Arab friends on Facebook, from whom she is learning about their religion, their culture, and what it is like to be an average citizen in the countries in which they live.
One evening on Facebook, Susan saw the above video posted by Kareem Wagdi, one of her newer Arab friends. The video shows quotations, followed by photos of the Hollywood stars to whom the quotes are attributed. Although the text was written in Arabic, Susan could tell by Kareem’s comments in English that he was quite disgusted with its message. She told Kareem that although she was sure there were negative feelings in Hollywood, that there were others who had no ill feelings about Arabs and Muslims, and that many stars supported Arab causes. She also told him that (as is true with most Americans) she could not understand the Arabic that was written in this video.
Kareem responded that, according to the Arabic captions, some of the celebrities in the video made positive comments about Arabs, including Mel Gibson, Anthony Hopkins, George Clooney, Angelina Jolie, Al Pacino, Dustin Hoffman, Ralph Fiennes, and Sandra Bullock. But there were some very negative comments from others. We have located translations of the negative comments the video attributes to the following people:
Tom Cruise: “The Arabs are the source of terrorism because they haven’t left anyone that they haven’t attacked and I hope that Israel annihilates Hizballah.”
A representative of Mr. Cruise confirms that he never said that, and added, “Thanks for coming to us – what I just found on line is ridiculous.”
Richard Gere: “The Arabs are a parasite on the world and it’s necessary to exterminate them all.”
Gere is the founder of the humanitiarian Gere Foundation. In 2005, after several trips to Palestine in support of peace, Gere did a television spot on behalf of a Jewish peace group, encouraging Palestinians to vote.
Harrison Ford: “The Arabs are grotesque creatures and are less than animals and we the Jews are the natives of this world, so there’s no comparison.”
Here is what Ford has actually said, which was also carried on the English-language website Islam Online:
“I’m very disturbed about the direction American foreign policy is going. I think something needs to be done to help alleviate the conditions which have created a disenfranchised and angry faction in the Middle East. I don’t think military intervention is the correct solution. I regret what we as a country have done so far.”
It’s clear that the video seriously misrepresents the views of these Hollywood celebrities, presumably for the purpose of showing how bigoted and racist we Americans are. And it would be easy to dismiss such obvious propaganda– but we can’t afford to. The YouTube video above has been viewed almost 400,000 times in two years. That’s over 500 views per day, every day, on this one video.
The website from which we obtained translations indicates that this propaganda has been circulating in email format since at least 2006. And a search of, for example, “Harrison Ford Arab quotes” will turn up plenty of discussion in English about the fictional quotes.
In a post-modern world of electronic communication, how is it possible that such untruthful propaganda would be believed by Arabs throughout the world? And how are we so unaware of it? First, all of us want to believe that what we hear and see through the independent sources on the internet is true. We want to trust it as a reliable non-commercial source of information. It isn’t. There are many good sources of information, and also many sources that are not reliable. Only through experience do we begin to learn the difference.
Second, and perhaps more importantly, is the language barrier. Arabic is the common language of the Islamic world, yet few Americans speak it. College enrollment in the study of Arabic language was only 1.5% of all college language study in 2006, up from just 0.7% in 2002. With no common language, we have no means to fact check what is being said on either side.
Taking advantage of these limitations, extremists use YouTube and other electronic media to spread the seeds of hate every day. Susan’s friend Kareem had no reason not to believe them. And until Kareem and Susan met on FaceBook, we didn’t know this was happening.
The internet in general, and YouTube in particular, is like an untended garden: truth can be found alongside misinformation. We must take care to nurture truth, to question our sources, or the weeds that sprout from the seeds of hatred will overpower it.
An asymptote is a curve that approaches a line but never gets there. In the same way, life is a journey in which continual
progress is possible, but never perfection: in spirituality, environmentalism, and the quest for peace. These are reflections on the journey, as well as comments and photos from my home in rural
Southern Utah. Guest posts appear occasionally.
Constructive commentary is welcome. Comments may be moderated by the author.
All photos by the author unless otherwise indicated by caption or link.
Recent Comments