Middle of Everywhere - Mary Bray Pipher [90]
In 1997 these three men were released from the camps, arbitrarily assigned a country, and put on a plane. In New York they were met by immigration officials who gave them plane tickets to their assigned cities. Hamid and Saif, close friends since boyhood, were sent to different parts of the country. (Saif's forced separation from Hamid reminded me of the Ellis Island story of the man sent to Houston, Texas, instead of Houston Street. Now, as then, hurried officials, more concerned with paper than people, can wreck lives.)
At first, life was hard. They had nothing—no language, no money, no connections, no education or job skills. They didn't get much help finding work or places to live. No one explained about rental deposits or credit ratings, things they hadn't experienced in Iraq.
Saif worked first as a dishwasher, then in a fast-food place. I winced at the image of this proud, debonair man washing dishes. Mamduh and Hamid got jobs in a factory in Lincoln. Mamduh made a joke that he would always work with Hamid, who took care of him. Hamid put his arm around Mamduh and said, "I protect my little brother."
Now Hamid lived with an American woman that he met at the factory. Hamid said his "wife" had become Muslim because she liked how women were treated in Muslim culture. She even wore a head covering when she left their apartment.
Saif had a turbulent relationship with a California woman and he felt that their cultural differences were insurmountable. He said, "When I was growing up in a little village in Iraq, she was in San Francisco. When I was in the camps, she was in a rock and roll band. We do not think alike. Whatever I think is natural, she thinks is unnatural."
Mamduh desperately wanted to marry a woman from his own village. But he knew he would never have the money or the connections to find a bride and bring her to Nebraska. He asked me quietly if I could help him find a wife in Nebraska. I said I doubted I could be of help.
He asked, "Is there a marriage broker in Lincoln?"
Talking about women led the men into an animated discussion of the way American men treat women. They were outraged that, in America, women get pregnant without husbands and that many children don't live with their fathers. They compared our high divorce rates to the much lower ones of Middle Eastern countries. Hamid talked of the men at his factory who go to the bars on Saturday night and find women to "do dirty things with." He said, "An Iraqi man would not do that. He would respect women too much. We only want to marry and have families."
Saif told me a story to explain how different the rules were in Iraq. His uncle fell in love with a young woman he'd seen in a shop. He waited seven years for his family's permission to marry her. Meanwhile, he had no socially acceptable way to see her. So his uncle actually opened a store that sold women's products so that this woman would come to his shop and he could visit with her.
Mamduh said he encouraged the American men at his job to respect women and to marry. Hamid and Saif were so upset by the topic of how American women are treated that they were shouting. Mamduh had tears in his eyes.
I reflected how the two cultures have mirror-image beliefs about each other. Americans often see Muslim men as disrespectful of women, and Muslims see American men as disrespectful. These men clearly believed that Iraqi culture was better for women and children. They also felt that in Iraq, families were closer and happier.
In fact, to these men, life in Iraq was very good except for Saddam. People took