Sonata In Me

In the spare hours that I had free today, I went to Washington DC to visit one of my best friends at The George Washington University. We had a great time, ate Thai food, and watched an incredible mini-series that was shot in high definition of some of the amazing parts of nature on the earth. I also got my first tour of the National Mall. I visited all of the memorials from Vietnam to Korea, World War II, and the Lincoln Memorial. I have always seen pictures of the Vietnam Memorial, but I never realized it was so big. With each panel, I kept thinking “there are too many here.” There are 58,249 names on the Vietnam Memorial.

When it was time to go home, I took the Metro back to Virginia and caught a cab. It was the second cab in a line of four. My cabdriver was an older man from Egypt. He had very short facial hair. It was all white. He had a concerned voice and pronounces every “th” sound as a “z”. At first I had trouble understanding him, but I quickly caught on. Toward the beginning of the 25 minute ride home, he answered his phone in Arabic and had a short conversation. He chuckled at one point and I heard the words “police car” slip into the Arabic. Soon, he was off the phone and let out a big sigh. I asked him if he had a long day.

“Long day?” He asked me as if he didn’t quite understand the expression. “Yes, it has been long day. Taxi driver is a very hard job.”

I told him that I appreciated the service very much. He explained to me that he has been driving for six years and then said that it is very difficult to make money because President Bush is directing so much money toward the war. He waved his hand in the air and said “useless.” It was at this point that I asked where he was from. I told him that I have always wanted to go to Egypt. He told me that it is a beautiful country. Much more beautiful than in the pictures. This is when I started to realize that I picked the right cab. He began to rattle of facts about the war in Iraq— things I had no clue about. He told me that 350,000 Iraqis have been killed. And the way he put it was that they were killed not by Saddam Hussein or any Muslim organization. This was an American organization. 350,000. And then there was the censorship. Our government was not allowing journalists to go in to see the crimes being committed. He said that troops were sent in and were told to shoot anyone that got in the way. He also added that he is sad to see the American soldiers die because they are also innocent. He understood that most people don’t sign up for the army to fight. They sign up because it’s a good job and get good benefits. “There is no reason for this to have happened. It is so sad. Now we cannot leave without leaving Iraq without a government. And no money. And no electricity. And no food. But if we stay, more innocent people die. There is no way out. Bush is in a place for critical decision.” My driver knew the whole situation. He kept trying to say how Muslims are innocent people. There will always be extremists in every country. There are white people who hate any person who isn’t as white as them. But that does not make all white people the same as the extreme ones.

By now we were on the tollway that leads to the Washington Dulles Airport.

“Here is something I bet you do not know. Over fifty percent, maybe sixty percent of security at Dulles Airport on 9/11 were Arabic or Muslim. I worked security at the time. It would have been so easy for a security guard to let someone in. They could cheat. But no Muslim cheated during these attacks. No one let another person in.” Gears clicked into place for me. The driver has been driving taxis for six years. After September 11, the government got rid of all of the security workers at Dulles and he was forced to try a different career. I do not know if his religion or ethnicity was involved, but I wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case.

He asked me where I was from. I told him that I’m from the west coast and that I’m a traveling musician who plays in a band supporting world peace. He said, “ZIS is good thing.” At that point we made our final turn toward the house. I handed him a ten dollar tip. He told me, “No. I am satisfied. Please.” As I was getting out of the car he said, “You wait. I have something for you.” He reached into a plastic bag and pulled out two packets of date filled cookies with Arabic writing on the front. “Because you fight for peace, I give you this.” I thanked him and told him how thankful I am to have met him. I gave him my best wishes and walked inside. We both waved to each other as he drove off.

When I visited the National Mall, my friend Noah kept saying that he was disgusted by how our country is built on wars. Most of the memorials represented wars or people involved in wars. Our memorials are pristine and serene as if saying that war itself is pristine and serene. This is only true for us who stay at home and have no connection to what is going on. There is nothing serene about war. There is nothing glorious about war. I could not help but think that every name on the Vietnam Memorial was unnecessary. No one had to die. That is still the case. I hope that we never have to construct another war memorial. 3241 US deaths so far. 23,417 reported injured. After this one, that is.