Projekt
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With Halloween fast approaching, the thought of coming up with a costume came to mind for the annual contest held at the stage near the green beans coffee shop on base. Along with a couple of colleagues, I decided to talk to the Turkish Bazaar employees in order to acquire the necessary garments and props to pull off a good attempt for the contest.
My buddy Ben decided to buy an Abaya or Burqa (woman’s Ninja dress) due to his short stature and compact dimensions. Adam would wear a traditional thawb and keffiyeh (man-dress with traditional head covering) to play an Arab from Saudi because of his complexion and well trimmed beard.
The costume I chose was that of an Afghan Taliban freedom fighter. It was the most involved but was a good choice because of my very tan skin, long black goatee and unkempt facial hair that has been growing wild for a few weeks just for this occasion. The taqiyah was difficult to find in the size needed to cover my big pumpkin head but I managed to get one on time. The tailors decided that it would be best to custom make the kurta (long shirt) and a set of khaki pants to complement it. They managed to find me a passable wool vest and wool hat that would complete the look. I already had an old set of leather sandals and decided to wear my body armor underneath to simulate being a suicide bomber.
The phone rang a few days after the order was placed. “Projekt, Your order is ready. You can come by to pay and pick-up your garments anytime.†That was all it took and I made my way to the shop to take possession of everything. There was only a little time left until my shift was over and the anticipation was very strong. I just couldn’t wait to try everything on altogether.
After work I was so excited that I couldn’t wait to knock on my buddies’ doors to play dress up and try on the costumes. My costume was a masterpiece and I nearly scared myself when it was all said and done. A really big Taliban fighter was in the mirror, staring me in the eye. It was uncanny and I was even surprised at the authenticity of the look. My colleagues were taken aback by my presence when I came to the door in full garb and said “messah alheirâ€. Ben was particularly “tripped out†at the sight of me and couldn’t help to say “oh snap you fricken scared me.â€
I convinced the fellas to try on their outfits so we could take a group picture. They geared up quickly and we snapped a picture with the help of a neighbor two doors down in our building. Sal is an American ethnic Iraqi that works here as an interpreter and was very motivated to help. He was impressed with the authentic appearing attire.
After the picture, I found myself walking away from the building that I live in. My state of mind didn’t register the fact that I was not displaying, much less carrying my ID card. As I walked along a road in the dark, a few soldiers jogged by while PT’ing and glanced at me uneasily. Walking further, I saw lights coming from the Green Beans. There was a regular evening entertainment event with music videos being played on a projector screen.
Entering the seating area, all eyes were on me and the music suddenly stopped. Absolute silence took hold as I walked forward; “Allah u akbar†came from my mouth somehow. “Allah u Akbar†resonated once again as several soldiers chambered their weapons and took up positions.
A soldier approached me and shouted: “Get on the ground m*****f****r! Do you want to die tonight? I said get on the ground.â€
The soldier was accompanied by my neighbor Sal. The interpreter was screaming something in Arabic, apparently translating it so my terrorist ass could understand. There was one problem; I don’t speak Arabic except for hello and good morning.
When it happened, all I could say is “ALLAH U AKBAR, Allah u akbar, inshallah, inshallah†over and over again while fiddling with prayer beads that suddenly materialized in my right hand. I wasn’t sure what I was saying but couldn’t stop; it was as if I was possessed. The multiple muzzles all pointed at me from different directions. One wrong move and I would be terminated in a hail of gunfire. This is not what I came to do in Iraq, the idea was to make lots of money fast but instead I am in a situation seemingly impossible to get out of.
I couldn’t move and seemed to be repeating a looped verse “allah u akbar… inshallah†against my will. At the time, I wasn’t totally conscious of it all and not quite sure if I really understood what was happening.
The soldier shouted “Fire at will†and a tremendously loud repetitive volley of gunfire took over. I found myself coughing up blood. The cough was painful and I shook unable to breathe…
I bolted upright in some kind of spasmodic sit-up. The noise was still present but there was total darkness. The stupor had me very confused and the noise was unbearable. I got up and put some shorts on to investigate. It was warm and late morning by then as I opened the door to my room.
The noise emanated from the backside of the building so I headed in that direction. As I rounded the corner, the entire racket was explained. A work crew was running a jackhammer on the other side of my bedroom wall to install some kind of concrete reinforcement for the roof.
At that moment, I changed mind about the Halloween costume.
My buddy Ben decided to buy an Abaya or Burqa (woman’s Ninja dress) due to his short stature and compact dimensions. Adam would wear a traditional thawb and keffiyeh (man-dress with traditional head covering) to play an Arab from Saudi because of his complexion and well trimmed beard.
The costume I chose was that of an Afghan Taliban freedom fighter. It was the most involved but was a good choice because of my very tan skin, long black goatee and unkempt facial hair that has been growing wild for a few weeks just for this occasion. The taqiyah was difficult to find in the size needed to cover my big pumpkin head but I managed to get one on time. The tailors decided that it would be best to custom make the kurta (long shirt) and a set of khaki pants to complement it. They managed to find me a passable wool vest and wool hat that would complete the look. I already had an old set of leather sandals and decided to wear my body armor underneath to simulate being a suicide bomber.
The phone rang a few days after the order was placed. “Projekt, Your order is ready. You can come by to pay and pick-up your garments anytime.†That was all it took and I made my way to the shop to take possession of everything. There was only a little time left until my shift was over and the anticipation was very strong. I just couldn’t wait to try everything on altogether.
After work I was so excited that I couldn’t wait to knock on my buddies’ doors to play dress up and try on the costumes. My costume was a masterpiece and I nearly scared myself when it was all said and done. A really big Taliban fighter was in the mirror, staring me in the eye. It was uncanny and I was even surprised at the authenticity of the look. My colleagues were taken aback by my presence when I came to the door in full garb and said “messah alheirâ€. Ben was particularly “tripped out†at the sight of me and couldn’t help to say “oh snap you fricken scared me.â€
I convinced the fellas to try on their outfits so we could take a group picture. They geared up quickly and we snapped a picture with the help of a neighbor two doors down in our building. Sal is an American ethnic Iraqi that works here as an interpreter and was very motivated to help. He was impressed with the authentic appearing attire.
After the picture, I found myself walking away from the building that I live in. My state of mind didn’t register the fact that I was not displaying, much less carrying my ID card. As I walked along a road in the dark, a few soldiers jogged by while PT’ing and glanced at me uneasily. Walking further, I saw lights coming from the Green Beans. There was a regular evening entertainment event with music videos being played on a projector screen.
Entering the seating area, all eyes were on me and the music suddenly stopped. Absolute silence took hold as I walked forward; “Allah u akbar†came from my mouth somehow. “Allah u Akbar†resonated once again as several soldiers chambered their weapons and took up positions.
A soldier approached me and shouted: “Get on the ground m*****f****r! Do you want to die tonight? I said get on the ground.â€
The soldier was accompanied by my neighbor Sal. The interpreter was screaming something in Arabic, apparently translating it so my terrorist ass could understand. There was one problem; I don’t speak Arabic except for hello and good morning.
When it happened, all I could say is “ALLAH U AKBAR, Allah u akbar, inshallah, inshallah†over and over again while fiddling with prayer beads that suddenly materialized in my right hand. I wasn’t sure what I was saying but couldn’t stop; it was as if I was possessed. The multiple muzzles all pointed at me from different directions. One wrong move and I would be terminated in a hail of gunfire. This is not what I came to do in Iraq, the idea was to make lots of money fast but instead I am in a situation seemingly impossible to get out of.
I couldn’t move and seemed to be repeating a looped verse “allah u akbar… inshallah†against my will. At the time, I wasn’t totally conscious of it all and not quite sure if I really understood what was happening.
The soldier shouted “Fire at will†and a tremendously loud repetitive volley of gunfire took over. I found myself coughing up blood. The cough was painful and I shook unable to breathe…
I bolted upright in some kind of spasmodic sit-up. The noise was still present but there was total darkness. The stupor had me very confused and the noise was unbearable. I got up and put some shorts on to investigate. It was warm and late morning by then as I opened the door to my room.
The noise emanated from the backside of the building so I headed in that direction. As I rounded the corner, the entire racket was explained. A work crew was running a jackhammer on the other side of my bedroom wall to install some kind of concrete reinforcement for the roof.
At that moment, I changed mind about the Halloween costume.
