6) Mohammed (And The Men Of The Middle East) Part Ii Poem by Otradom Pelogo

Mohmmed (Iraq)
(And The Men of Mesopotamia)

If I wasn't heading to Europe, I would have brought it back and given to one of the young boys that we say hello to when driving from one place to another down the streets of Iraq. A lot of times we are driving slowly enough to throw candy out of the window; and a lot of times I'll grab some of the chocolate sports bars from off of the table, a sandwich or fruit, sneaking it into my pocket and hopefully will not have eaten them by the time we are ready to pull out. Sometimes they will, when we are moving slow enough, or have stopped for a few seconds waiting to cross a bridge or fix a flat tire or something like that, the little boys and girls, they are more enduring than adults as we know, the energy and enthusiasm of a child, something we always long for, will walk up and ask for food, water or candy, and the majority of the times you'll see whatever the driver has go flying out of the window. I usually stop by the PX and grab a case of soda, or some snacks, (unless we're leaving at night when there will be basically no one on the streets) , and take whatever I have or what I want need before making it to the next stop, as I said, usually something to drink or snack on, and either throw or hand it to any one of them standing out there. Though, during the day, you know that there will be children lined up and down the streets, so bringing something to hand to them is usually premeditated, though you don't know when or where they will be, and yet they are always truly grateful for what's given. There is still caution for many reasons, besides the admonishment of not to throw anything out of the window at all, usually for the safety of the children out there, running up to get what is thrown out. So it takes a few faces to reach over and grab what's in arms reach; a bottle of water, a can of soda or some candy and throw it in the direction of a group of excited children.

Ironically enough, it happened a couple of times, about five or so little boys and girls, nicely dressed, standing there very excitedly hoping for something to come flying there way, and they sort of get you in the mood, but at forty, fifty and sixty kilometers an hour, most likely it will come flying out half a block later, and you'll forget what or who somewhat got it going, which I did, and had seen them; that small group of children standing at the edge of the street, in front of their house on the way back and remembered them, but by this time I didn't have anything left, which was sort of an amusing paradox, but made a mental note of it to myself, that next time, though we never know when, that I would have something for them; and ironically enough, by the next time you will have forgotten and thus the scenario starts all over again. I had seen them just before pulling past them, hurried and grabbed a bag full of candy or sports bars and had thrown it out of the window just in time, while hoping not to hear over the radio, that someone was throwing something out of the window.

Last couple of times we were moving slow enough where the kids would stop and even talk to us while waiting to go, and they'll hold a conversation with you the whole while, and the more they talk to you; and they're always extremely nice, the more you want to give them something. I had just bought a case of soda, and had it sitting on the floor within arm's reach, and thus a young boy came along side of the truck, jogging in tandem with the nice slow pace that we were going, and began talking, while asking for something to eat or drink; I threw him a soda, which I could tell that he was grateful for, though he kept up the pace, of course to my surprise. I threw more sodas out, I think also one of the plastic containers called MREs, that the military uses, which contains a small meal with a powdered drink and a piece of candy; and he kept jogging until we almost came to the stop where we prepared to go across the bridge, when I threw him another of about at least five or more sodas, and a couple bottles of water, as his friends came along sside of him and asked for some also, but I hesitated for a second, realizing that a three dollar and fifty cent case of sodas made a small group of children incredibly happy, and it always does. Sometimes you can see that a lot of their happiness comes from the fact that we care enough to give them something. Children anywhere from the age of three, four or five, up to adolescence and older are out there, and the feeling and appreciation is always the same, even more so the younger they are, the childlike happiness that transcends just about all things. I asked the young boy his name, who was about ten or eleven years old, and he said that his name was Mohammed, when I reached onto the dash and grabbed the extra pair of sunshades that I had and threw it to him, which made him as excited as he could have possibly gotten. I then handed a soda to one of his older friends selling merchandise, who asked could he have something to drink also, where I then grabbed about one of the last and gave it to him just before crossing the bridge and heading away at a much faster pace. I realized that Mohammed must have ran close to a mile while talking to me and being rather nice about it...