Woman Who Fell From the Sky - Jennifer Steil [129]
“That’s because it’s a drug,” he told Hadi. “When the negative consequences outweigh the benefits, and you still continue to do it, then that means it’s a drug.”
Hadi just shook his head sadly and stuck another leaf in his mouth.
Another reason I don’t try to ban qat is that I am not sure that my men could do their jobs without it. They might fall asleep on their keyboards. Or go home for a nap. Journalists on qat, I figure, are better than journalists suffering from qat withdrawal.
In contrast, my women are almost universally opposed to qat. Najma constantly writes health stories about its deleterious effects as a passive swipe at the men. Here is an excerpt from one of her masterpieces: “The qat chewer is prone to a lot of bad effects after taking qat. He becomes unable to sleep and he feels lazy and worried. He is also prone to be weak in sexual performance, focusing on things or information and to lose control on sperm. His appetite is badly affected by chewing qat and he tends to sit alone. He also suffers from some difficulties in urinating.”
But there’s some evidence that my men are coming to grips with what qat really is. One day in May, Farouq pops into my office as I am finishing editing a front page.
“Do you need me?” he says.
“Why?” I ask warily. “Where do you need to go?”
“I need to take your permission to go buy some drugs,” he says, grinning broadly.
I laugh. “Well, since you put it that way, you have my permission to go buy drugs.”
“Shukrahn!” And he’s off like a shot.
I don’t complain. Farouq has been inordinately kind and respectful lately and receptive to my thoughts and criticisms. We’ve just finished going over a story he wrote about a graduation project that two Sana’a University students did on religious conflict. Islam is vastly misunderstood, both by “bad” Muslims (who use Islam to justify terrorism) and non-Muslims, the students say. To address this, they wrote a booklet and held a workshop to increase the understanding of Islam in a post—September 11 world. A few parts of the story made me cross, particularly the sections that referred to the Western media as a homogenous entity, as if every newspaper and magazine in the Western world were conspiring together and speaking with one voice, when, in my experience, the Western media is a multiheaded beast encompassing an infinite number of voices. Doesn’t it include both Mother Jones and the New Republic? Playboy and the Wall Street Journal? While it’s true that some voices are louder than others, I’ve personally found the “Western media” to be pretty free and various.
When I try to explain this to Farouq, he responds, “But don’t the Jews control all the media?”
“Farouq,” I say, “tell me what percentage of Americans you think are Jews.”
“I don’t know.”
“Just guess. I am curious what you think.”
He considers for a moment. “Twenty percent?”
I hold up two fingers. “Ithnayn. Two percent. Tops.”
He is shocked. He had assumed that the entire United States was ruled by a Zionist cabal.
I sigh. “Farouq. I have been in the media for twelve years and I don’t recall ever having been controlled by Jews.” In fact, I reflect, my last three bosses were Catholic. “And while there are certainly plenty of biases evident in newspapers and magazines, I’ve read quite a few pro-Muslim stories. Even in the New York Times. Which is, in fact, owned by a Jew. The U.S. media is not one big anti-Muslim block.”
The United States was founded on the idea of religious freedom, I add. “It’s illegal to persecute anyone for his or her religion.”
It’s strange to hear myself sounding so patriotic. I’ve spent a great deal of time agitating against the U.S. government—going to anti-Bush demonstrations, signing petitions, marching for peace, and supporting gay rights. Yet in Yemen, I find myself defending the government I have done nothing but complain about for years. And it’s true that in comparison with the corrupt and inefficient Yemeni government, mine is beginning