Towards the end of my book, Mortenson describes being in Pakistan on September eleventh, the year the towers came down. He had some difficulty getting details, but evetnually learned what had happened. He attended a big meeting that consisted of Muslims. He listened as they begged forgivness and gave him dozens of eggs to take back to the United States in order to express how sorry they were for their country to have done such a thing.
They were much more hospitable to him than the U.S. authorites were when he tried to return to the country. He was interogated about being a terrorist, and even knowing where Osama Bin Laden was located. Eventually they had to let him go, however, and he went back about his business in Pakistan. When he returned to the States he was given hate mail, one of which stating that the person wished a bomb had fallen on him, another saying that God would punish him for being a traitor and helping the Muslims.
This unsettled me. As a child, I did not like the countries who hurt us either. But my mother told me right away that we must not be angry at the ordinary citizens, because they were just like us. Even as a child I could understand this. It confused me that grown men and women believed helping refugees was wrong simply because of their background. I have heard stories like this before, such as after 9/11, three Muslim men (all U.S. citizens) were convicted for questioning, merely for talking about the attacks. It is scary how fast we are quick to judge, and frightens me. What if, one day, someone discriminates me and my ethnicity as we have done to others?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment