Measuring by Mars

I know people from college who allegedly work the hours that I am keeping these days—80 hour weeks. But I understand they are making a pretty little penny, and enjoying the variety of cultural and social activities available in NYC, Boston, or Washington, DC. I am subject to a rigid government pay scale and ride my bike home in the dark, hoping the fire I hear in the back ground is the “celebratory fire” that Iraqis are known for shooting into the night sky. One such “joyous” bullet recently tore through the tarp over the pool behind my building! We have some pretty odd cultural traditions in the US, but mostly they only risk the life of the participants--not total strangers miles away.

Before arriving, I did not think I would have a strong urge to take advantage of the breaks we are afforded for our service in Baghdad, but just six weeks into my tour, I am itching for the freedom to walk around, to browse through a bookstore, to talk to anyone who isn’t “helping bring democracy to the Middle East”. If you are a newspaper reader, you have probably seen reports of the impending visits of Iraq’s Vice President Abdul Mahdi and Deputy Prime Minister Ahmad Chalabi this week for discussions with USG officials. My most recent 80 work week was spent coordinating with a whole host of DC agencies to get the Iraqi delegations to those meetings.

For this reason, I’ve not had much time to myself. I have enjoyed conversations with my dad about the night sky—not only because he is knowledgeable, but also the night sky always seems to put things in perspective. On October 28, Mars and Earth were as close as the can physically get, according to scientists (click link on the title of this entry for more information). Astronomer Percival Lowell described the red planet after his 19th century viewing, writing that Mars "blaze[d] forth against the dark background of space with a splendor that outshines Sirius and rivals the giant Jupiter himself." On October 28, I was tired and returning home late. My dad, who has always followed astronomical phenomena with great interest asked about the night sky that evening. I hadn’t actually noticed the sky that night, but his description of this rare occurrence prompted me to step outside my trailer and look up. Sure enough, moments later I was standing under the dark desert sky, looking at a luminous, magical ball of fire, with my dad at the other end of the line, knowing he would be able to see the same image in just a few hours. It was remarkable.

The holy month of Ramadan has just come to a close, with the three day celebration known as Eid al-Fitar (Celebration of the Breaking of the Fast). I find the idea of Ramadan appealing—turning away from material pursuits, focusing on those less fortunate and recommitting oneself to spiritual endeavors. Unfortunately, Ramadan in Iraq brought little peace to Iraqis, who were killed at a higher rate during October than during any month of the insurgency.

Although it does not seem to be so now, I come from a country that has no state-sponsored religion. I am hopeful that Americans will rediscover the value of this principle before radical Christianity becomes encoded in our law. In Iraq, the non-Muslims that I know feel that their freedom has been curtailed so much over the last few years under American occupation that their only remaining choice is to leave the country to escape persecution. A situation where one religion dominates is untenable, not only in Iraq, but in the US as well.

We should stick to Mars, and remember all those who, like us, are humbled by its appearance overhead.