With all this talk about what makes a person an Assyrian my brain kicked in and scraped off the rust. What group do you need to be apart of? What political party do you join? What is it that makes a person an Assyrian? Don't know.
What makes me an Assyrian? I think I gots myself a little clue.
It's 9/11, the traffic was insane all over the city as they were evacuating downtown Chicago. I got myself a call from work and was told not to come into work that day. Being that traffic was hectic and all. Not a problem they're just looking out for me.
The next day I found out that the only two people that were asked to stay home was me and a Muslim co-worker. Interesting as it was I let it be. Too much going on for me to pick a fight for my rights. It could have been for our safety being that cab drovers all over the city were getting the beating of their life.
Later that week a senior manager asked me to come into her office. Her request was simple enough. "I know you are from Iraq, please help me understand your people better". Had to laugh when she had a map of the Middle East on her monitor. Normally I would be more then happy to explain. Tell her that I was born in Baghdad. Tell her the stories my parents would fill me with. Stories about three day weddings that had the entire village soaked in araq and the air filled with the sounds of dawoola o zorna. Shareh that had everyone enjoying the aroma of lamb. Musardeh and all the young kids playing the water pranks they have been planning for weeks. Not this time. This time it was different.
I've never felt so uncomfortable about being an Assyrian. As a child during the first Gulf War it was hard to tell people where I was born. Not as an adult. Not until this day.
A couple of years later came the icing on the cake. I was back to my normal routine. Explaining how I would have four priests attend a special church event out of respect for my father. Telling my co-workers what an honor this is. The same manager said "you're Christian". "Yes, I am" was followed with "no you're not". All this time she assumed I was a Muslim. Had to laugh it off. Not her comment but the fact that I almost blurted out the word Bitch.
Then came the Passion. The same woman enters my life again to ask if I understood the language. The same person that had a map of the Middle East on her monitor years back had been doing some research. I said "yeah, a word or two". Her eyes widen and in all the excitement in the world she tells me how lucky I was to understand what Christ was saying. I almost let go and called her a Cunt this time around, but held back. A nasty word yes, but it's not my fault. Blame it on the years of hate people like her have showed me. So me being the ever so charming man told her "no, I understood what Jim Cavieziel said not Christ. Never heard Jesus speak before". She didn't get it.
Like so many at that time she actually thought it was Jesus. Poor Cavieziel, so many people saw this film and none of them know who he is. For all she knows Cavieziel was probably Jesus Christ's stunt double in the film.
Now comes the end to this saga. Haven't spoken to her since that comment. She asks to see me in her office. Mind you that every visit had me thinking that she's going to make a move on me. Not this one. I figured that now that she believes I am a Christian the taboo is gone. No need for this scumb to want to bang a normal Christian. It was the evil Muslim boy from Iraq that she wanted to tame. Well, she probably still wants me being that I'm am a pretty hot sonamunagun.
So we meet. She is in tears and I don't ask why. I don't care. The one teaching of Christ to Gandhi to Mother Teresa I never cared for was to forgive and forget. No! If you're good to me I'll try hard as hell to give you the world. But, go ahead and screw me once, JUST ONCE, and you won't know what hit you. I don't care for her damn tears. "My father has cancer in his liver. They don't know if they can save it or if he'll need a transplant. They don't know if it has spread. I came to you because I need to speak to someone who has been through it before" is all she wrote. What a bitch, kista'd ziblah, horrible, horrible, horrible. She got me.
My family has been hit so hard by this monster that I smell the radiation to this day, everyday, everywhere. Honestly, it's found a home in my nose. It still changes the way my food tastes no matter how many cloves of garlic I use. I've been known to get a dozen "hellos" to this day from the hospital that became my second home. This monster lives in my closet as an adult. It sneaks under my bed and refuses to leave my dreams. She got me good.
"I wanted to talk to someone who's been there. A good Christian."
That comment right there deserves to be left alone, in all it's flashy bling. So I'll leave it alone. My answer to her was kreeta o' khleeta. "It doesn't give two shits what religion you are. And, no one can give you the "right" answer no matter what religion they are. All I can say is that you need to check yourself at the door and settle down a bit. He's the one that's hurting right now. You wanna cry, do it on your own time. When you're with him it's his clock you're on. Be strong for him, everything else is selfish". Her tears dried up, she smiled, thanked me like I was Jim Cavieziel. Didn't want to hear it so I got up and left her with this, "if you ever want to talk let me know".
The pieces to the puzzle were connected and made very clear to me. I was asked to stay home out of fear. It was so clear that if it were any other so-called Assyrian a lawsuit would have been settled by now.
This is where I get my answer from. This story and many others like it in my lifetime. Each one of us needs to find OUR own answer as to what makes us an Assyrian. It's not in Church. Mel Gibson can't tell you. It's not in Iraq. I can't tell you what makes YOU an Assyrian.
I am an Assyrian. I am a warrior that never hates his enemy but learns from him. I fight a strong and able enemy, fair fight all the way. Not one that is down and out. I never take the coward's sick reward of kicking a dead dog. I am a leader that makes followers stronger. A leader that makes followers of his enemies. Keep them close? Screw that! Make them love you.
It's good'ta be an Assyrian...
