Monday, December 06, 2004
Been there, Done that - Iraq
We have a third resident, a guest, two weeks in a row at our apartment.
Andrew is a British marine who was in Iraq for the last 5 months. He is also Duncan's younger brother, but by all means, he does not look nor act like he is 19.
As the alcohol loosened up his mood, he became more talkative and was dazzled by the Hong Kong nights. He jokingly said, "you know, in order to hide the fact that I'm a marine - because once girls find out if you're a marine, they think we are after only one thing - I had to come up with new occupations." So Andrew became a dolphine trainer and a biscuit designer - like for Digestives and stuff.
Duncan and Andrew are nothing alike - one lanky and lean, the other with bulging biceps; one loves pop music and Brittney Spears, the other is for rock and Sweet Home Alabama; the only resemblence is in their eyebrows and smiles. But one thing did strike extremely similar between the two - the love of being on top of the bars, dancing the night away at Carnegies. Can't fight the blood.
After a drunken night in the town, I had to shove Andrew in a cab while his brother had panic-stakingly gone home already (in fatigue from binging and dancing and thinking that his brother was at the apartment). Sometimes, the truth comes out in the subconscious state.
"That weeers greeeeaaat..."
"Yeah? Must be great to be out in the town after the last 5 months."
"Yeah... you know, I was shot in the legs by you Yanks." Taps his thigh. "Right here."
"(sigh) Friendly fire, huh?"
"(chuckle) There's nothing friendly about it. But I like you guys. (shakes head) It's really bad out there - I came home, but I feel for my mates who are still out there. Even you guys... a full-grown American man, on his knees, crying because he wanted to go home. ...It's tough out there..."
"...Sorry to hear that."
"Yeah... I don't hate Americans or anything. You complain that the British forces are in the safer zones down South, but it's safer for a reason. When you shove arrogantly and go attacking, saying that 'you have to follow OUR way,' it gets ugly. But I like you Americans."
Silence.
"...A full-grown American, on his knees. Crying... Begging to come home. It's tough.... I like what I do and I'm proud, but it's tough."
The next day, we woke from our massive hangover and fatigue (well, at least the brothers were wasted) - obviously, Andrew not remembering a single thing from the night before. I know that Andrew's point of view is only one man's point of view - but it's flesh and blood to the things that we have only seen through the screens and in print.
Sometimes his uneasiness and self-consciousness can be felt in the air. So young. Only 19. Neither better or worse, but merely a choice of lifestyle and purpose in life. The similarities and differences between us all waft through the room, spoken or unspoken, and sink into the couch.
