Ash Wednesday, Beginning the Fast

Ash Wednesday and Beginning the Fast
February 25, 2004

Hi everyone,

It is Ash Wednesday today and the first day of our fast. So far, it is
not too bad, although my teammates and I discussed how suddenly all the
treats you wanted to get in ahead of the fast come up as strong cravings
today. For me, I passed a shwarma (kind of like a gyro) shop today and
remembered I should have stopped in yesterday. But actually, that is
abating already. We found a good place to get healthy, non-sugary juice
not far from our apartment, and I think liquids only for 40 days will
actually be alright.

Today was also the first day of our vigil in Tahrir Square for the
prisoners. Most days in Lent, we will be vigiling from 12-2pm with photos
of Iraqis 'disappeared' by US forces--those whom we know have been
detained by the military, but their families can get no information about
why they've been taken, the charges against them, how long they will be
gone, where they are being held, if they are still alive, if they are
healthy, etc. We were absolutely mobbed with Iraqis, which suprised me.
Many said thank you and were suprised we were mostly Americans. Some were
angry and needed to vent. I spent much of those two hours listening.
Iraqis don't feel like anyone is listening to them, so it seemed like my
calling at that given moment. There were a few Iraqi police around, and
they soon really got into our act, after we and our translator told them
what we were up to, they began telling the rest of the crowd what we were
doing because so many people were coming up so fast asking questions. We
printed about 750 fliers and they ran out in about half an hour.
Tomorrow, hopefully, we'll just make one big poster and hold that up
instead. Some people told us of their own family members who were
disappeared. Some people said, "Some of these guys are probably
criminals, theives, they shouldn't be released." We replied that we
weren't asking for them to be released, but that they and their families
should know what they are being accused of and they should have the right
to a lawyer and a trial. A lot of Iraqis have told us that criminals and
serious Ba'ath party officials are picked up by US forces and immediately
released back into public, so I think that is where much of the concern
was coming from.

On the way to our vigil, our building's housekeeper told us one of her
relatives was detained yesterday. We will interview her soon to get more
details.

It's strange. When I was home speaking, I felt as though I was being too
harsh on my audiences, I was overwhelming them, I was putting too much on
them by showing the destroyed houses and the killed people and the
terrible realities of this Occupation. Now that I have returned, I feel
that I perhaps was still not true enough to the reality of the suffering,
of the deprivation of electricity, food, water, and medical care. Iraq is
so much more desperate than it was two months ago.

The other day I made my first visit to Abu Sifa. You will have read about
this village in our team reports. At one of the homes we visited, a man
was arrested by US forces. He was actually a ranking Ba'ath party member.
Therefore, it seems to have made sense to arrest him. This is what
doesn't make sense. Several days after the arrest, our soldiers came back
and torched his home. Sixteen people lived in a home that we would
normally use to house four, including many children. I was shocked by the
level of destruction. Now they are all homeless.

Another man was arrested, then they destroyed his home in front of him.
Much of the village looked like this. They used a tank to shove the man's
taxi into the wreckage of his home. He now has no home, no car, no
family--they are scattered. And no trial, no lawyer, and no human rights.

Eighty men in this village were taken. That is, all the men of this
village except two. The two remaining men must now take on all the
farming tasks for the others. It is an enormous job, even for a small
agricultural village on the Tigris. They must also try to provide
security for all the families there. I was stunned. What if eighty men
were rounded up in Mason City? Is that all of Asbury? All of Briarstone?
or all of the North End? What does that do to a community? How can they
stand for it?

We went to another home. I was not ready for this. The soldiers attacked
in the middle of the night. Now the house was barely standing. Every
room was sprayed with tank shell and bullet holes. There were huge holes
in every room of the house from the shelling. The family had collected
strings and strings of heavy artillery shells and had them in feed sacks.
I didn't want to touch them because I didn't know if they were coated in
Depleted Uranium. As I looked around, I wondered, how could anyone have
survived this attack? Any child?

The family still has to live there. Palm fronds have been woven through
the window frames to cover the broken-out glass. What is worse, is that
yet again, the soldiers returned and apologized for what they had done
several days later. They had the wrong house, again.

I want to scream.

It occurs to me that someone reading my letter might say, "They deserved
this. Otherwise it would not have happened." I say, children of anyone,
no matter how criminal their fathers, are innocent, and they cannot be
deprived of shelter. My father was a soldier in Viet Nam. Perhaps it's
only fair someone come demolish my home with bulldozers, tanks, and
helicopter gunships. Why on earth are we doing this?

Apparently, after each of our team's visits to document the human rights
abuses here, the US forces return. They come in the middle of the night.
They ask the villagers, "Why did you invite the CPT here? What are you
telling them?" We have to worry about retaliation for those who speak out
about what is happening to them.

We have to worry a lot already.They have taken the human rights lawyers
now, some of whom we were working with this fall. When they wanted to
find out if some of the disappeared were in Abu Ghraib, I don't think this
is what they had in mind. I am worried about them.

Dr. Alim Yacoub is dead. He died in a very suspicious looking car
accident between Baghdad and Basrah, while driving his van with his
family. I think one of his sons was killed also, or perhaps severely
wounded. Dr. Yacoub was the foremost researcher in Iraq on the health
effects of Depleted Uranium (which is really a bit of a misnomer, since
it's still quite radioactive). For those of you who have seen my DU
binder when I've spoken on Iraq, that is but one part of his life's work.
When our team last saw him, he was being watched by the CPA. He was not
free to speak, and was being silenced. I just heard on the BBC about a
World Health Organization report on the dangers of Depleted Uranium that
had been suppressed, but now an American researcher who was a part of that
report is coming forward. Dr. Yacoub was also working with the WHO after
being with the non-Ministry of Health here. In both places, it seems he
was being silenced. Many of the scientists are disappearing. Some are
ending up dead. They and their families are afraid. The studenta at the
university are protesting. I wonder if anyone in the CPA will listen.

I want to pass on a column I read today. It was pretty moving for me,
about a soldier that was killed. I think about dead and dying soldiers
quite often here. Here is the address:
http://www.newsday.com/news/columnists/ny-nybres223681425feb22,0,3719518.column

It is good to be back. In Abu Sifa, after all the destruction and pain
the families shared with us, they invited us to lunch and the tour of
their farms. We played in the Tigris river. We ate our fill of fresh
oranges and sweet grapefruit from the trees. I talked to the sheep and
chickens, as I usually do, to the amusement of the local kids. We were
fed well and drank seemingly gallons of tea. I learn so much about
hospitality and homemaking here. Even when people have no more than mats
for furniture, they can treat you like royalty as a matter of custom. I
am awed.

I need to leave this letter a little short. Will write more soon,

peace,

Le Anne