They are neighbors. They pass each other on the street; they breath the same dusty air. And yet … and yet.
This morning, a large crowd -- men and boys searching for work -- gathers together to fight despair, anxieties subsiding a bit in such company. There is strength in numbers, target strength.
Suddenly, a wave of optimism, some cheering, some shouts of incredulity. Hope. "Follow me, I'll hire you!" The group moves this way, then that. Men press forward to get a chance at something. They gather round a minivan, a truck. Some get in.
"Yes! Yes! I have work for you! I will hire you. Come, come closer."
In a sadistic suicide flash, 60 people are dead. Over 200 are wounded. Shiites, the poorest, lay bleeding in a Baghdad street, their ears deafened by the sound of more bad news. All in a day's work.
These are the people we all hope to help in a very different way than the man with the van full of lies. Sadly, near yet another crater in the ground, day laborers will indeed gather for work, their compensation coming in bits of flesh. They pray for peace with their neighbor and yet only find a piece of their neighbor.
It is, really, a job that cannot possibly be done in a day.
(Today, prayers for lost sons, husbands, fathers, wives, mothers, daughters, and hope.)
©Bill Gnade 2006/Contratimes - All Rights Reserved.
Technorati tags: Baghdad, Suicide bomber, Peace, Day laborers, Iraq
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