It is Sunday, the 5th day of the 10-day fast initiated by Voices in the Wilderness. It is about 5am and I am awakened by the sound of planes flying overhead. They seem to be flying much lower, and therefore were much louder than in the past days. They are heading to O’Hare airport I am told.

Several of us from out-of-town have descended on the 2nd floor apartment, home to Kathy Kelly and the Voices in the Wilderness offices in Chicago. So warmly welcomed and received by all of the folks here, somehow we have not wanted to separate, though friends have offered a place in their homes. We have each seemed to settle into a space, and my nook is the front roof in the open air, just large enough for a mattress. Once again I am sleeping under the stars. I cannot help but remember the skies of Baghdad where last fall we slept on the roof and were subject to the constant nerve-shattering sound of planes overhead and explosions. The planes I hear this morning are passenger planes, but in Iraq U.S. war planes and helicopters continue to carry and drop deadly bombs. The people there, our brothers and sisters, have never had a respite from the explosions, the violence, the terror and the killing. This is one of the reasons we are fasting.

Here at the apartment I am surrounded by great people. We laugh and joke a lot. And talk about food! I bask in the easy commeraderie. The folks here make the fast easier for me. I am aware that our fast is voluntary, that it will have an end. While not everyone is fasting from food in these days, everyone is part of the fast.

For 4 days now we have gathered at the Water tower, a prestigious and popular site in Chicago. We have not been a sizable number, at any given time from 4-10 or so. We have enlarged vinyl photographs of Iraqi children and youngsters, posters which read: A PEOPLE HUNGERING FOR PEACE. END THE OCCUPATION OF IRAQ, AFGHANISTAN and PALESTINE. Another says: WHO DOES NOT WANT TO LIVE IN PEACE IN THE PLACE THEY CALL HOME? And we leaflet.

One of my first impressions at the site where we are standing is that the people and atmosphere here in Chicago is more “gentle” than in New York city. Even in the house here I find a gentleness and deference in the way people address each other. To my embarrassment my own tongue and manner often seem sharp and snappy in contrast to the others. Yesterday, Saturday, as we stood holding the photos and signs, and handing out leaflets, literally hundreds of people walked by looking straight ahead, either avoiding eye contact altogether, or casting furtive glances toward the posters and pictures. We were seen as an annoyance, like mosquitos pestering a pleasant weekend excursion. Parents sometimes guided their children away from us, couples unconsciously reached for one anothers hands after glancing our way. To look at pictures of Iraqi children seemed to be threatening, disturbing, unsettling. We must sense deep down that these children are also our children, that we are all one family.

The other night I purposefully watched some of Bush’s acceptance speech on a small TV here at the Vitw apartment. It all seemed like such a mindless show, with people dressed in red, white and blue glitter, sequinned hats with antennae bobbing, waving flags and applauding. Early on in his address Bush said “Since 2001, Americans have been given hills to climb and found the strength to climb them. Now, because we have made the hard journey, we can see the valley below. Now, because we have faced challenges with resolve, we have historic goals within our reach, and greatness in our future. We will build a safer world and a more hopeful America and nothing will hold us back. He kept repeating “and nothing will hold us back.” He went on to say “I believe the most solemn duty of the American president is to protect the American people. If America shows uncertainty and weakness in this decade, the world will drift toward tragedy. This will not happen on my watch.” People clapped and cheered, stood up and sat down just like puppets. I too kept standing up repeatedly. It was because I was dumbfounded, dismayed, agitated, disturbed. Everything in the speech was “We, We, We.” As if the rest of the world doesn’t exist, doesn’t matter.

Iraqis used to assure us “We know it is not you who are doing this to us. It is your president, your government.” Recently Denis Halliday said solemnly that the whole world will be looking at this election. If Bush wins, it will send a message around the globe, the message being that we have voted him in, that we stand with his war policies, beliefs and actions. There will no longer be a distinction between the government and us. The thought that this might happen is terrifying. And so we fast, trying to be mindful ourselves and trying to call others by our presence to be mindful as well.

We take hope from people like Farwah, a beautiful your Pakistani woman, and a Muslim, visiting her uncle in Chicago. She was passing by on the first day of the public witness and joined us. Her eyes teared over more than once as she spoke of her own struggle to know what to do to stem the violence, to turn things around. Her parents went to Iraq after the invasion to visit the holy shrines of Najaf, Karbala, etc. She and the family worried for their safety while they were away. Later she herself wanted to go to Iraq, but her father wouldn’t allow it. She left us expressing her gratefulness at finding us, and we our gratefulness at finding her.

Cathy Breen