by Matthew Chandler
4 May 2005

A Wednesday morning:

It’s called Al-Kahhal Street, but it’s more of a highway—at least it’s supposed to be. Tom Fox and I were on our way to meet a Sunni cleric in the Al-Aadhumiya district of Baghdad, and, as usual, the traffic along Al-Kahhal was heavy. All the drivers honk their horns, usually to no avail. Then I heard a concert of horns coming up behind us, and drivers, surprisingly, were clearing the way. A white Toyota pickup truck overflowing with uniformed Iraqis armed to the teeth sped by my window. Two blue BMWs followed, and then another pickup truck—pistol and rifle barrels pointed out in every direction. One zealous officer shouted at a reluctant driver. I assume he said something like, “Move now or I’ll shoot.” I don’t think he needed to articulate the threat.

A Thursday afternoon:

My friend delights in showering my teammates and me with gifts, usually cakes, and never stops asking whether we need anything. He came to pick me up for a social visit to his house for the first time in nearly a year. He was absolutely giddy. I climbed into the passenger seat of his new (to him) Volkswagen Golf. The seat was lumpy and uncomfortable, but I didn’t say anything. We made conversation about the car as he started the engine. “Excuse me,” he said as he reached for my rear. Naturally, I leaned away. He pulled a 9mm pistol from under the seat cover, checked the magazine, and then tucked it away by his door. “Sorry,” he said, “You know the situation.”

A Friday evening:

I’ve traveled to Iraq four times now, and it’s getting harder to find unique souvenirs for my family and friends. But I was determined to get my shopping done in the local market in one day this time. The market filled as the sun set. Young men and women browsed for shoes, mothers held outfits up to their children for sizing, buyers and sellers negotiated prices. I was trying to keep my eye out for tasteful trinkets, passing over the toy guns at the kiosk to my right. Wait…those weren’t toys. The salesmen demonstrated the handgun’s clip release for a woman in a black abaya, while a girl to her left watched intently and a man to her right tested deodorant sprays.

A Saturday morning:

“Come in,” invited the young priest, “You are most welcome.” Justin Alexander and I had only crossed the threshold when he stopped us. “Please excuse me for this.” He picked up his Kalashnikov from the sofa near the door and held it by the barrel before us. “Don’t be surprised. This is a priest’s station, not a police station.” He chuckled as he moved the weapon to the corner. We both smiled awkwardly, and then sat down at his bidding. He presented to us a candy dish with caramels on one side and 7.62-caliber bullets on the other. “This is our tragedy,” he explained.

Christian Peacemaker Teams is an ecumenical violence-reduction program with roots in the historic peace churches. Teams of trained peace workers live in areas of lethal conflict around the world. CPT has been present in Iraq since October, 2002. To learn more about CPT, please visit www.cpt.org. Photos of CPT projects may be viewed at www.cpt.org/gallery