MRFF's Inbox
January 14, 2009
A few months ago, I received an e-mail offering interpreter jobs in Afghanistan, for people who spoke Pashto. Being brought up in Afghanistan and speaking Pashto fluently (albeit a little rusty after over 35 years); I know Pashtuns (called Pukhtuns in Pakistan), I understand the people and the culture, I thought about it.
I thought, I am not doing much here, not getting anywhere with things I want to promote and the business could be a lot better. Maybe, if I go to Afghanistan, I may be able to help US military understand local a little better and help the locals understand the soldiers a little better and MAYBE, help in building some peace and MAYBE help save a few lives on both "sides".
I sent in my application, but decided not to share this information with anyone for the time being...I thought some people might get a little too worked up and some might take their real estate business elsewhere and at the time, I had not even been considered, let alone accepted.
The people at Mission Essential Personnel (MEP) were delighted ton hear from me and sent the forms immediately. Filling the forms was quite a task, I had to dig up old information that I had forgotten and give permission for them to dig up all the dirt they could, about me because they would need me to get security clearance before they could really consider me. I was sure, once someone Googled me, I would be considered "undesirable" and would get bounced out of the system.
A couple of weeks later, I was called and told I had passed my preliminary background check (I was surprised) and it was time for my language test.
A few days later, a woman called from California to test me. She read some sentences in English and asked me to translate them into Pashto, which I did. Then she read some Pashto sentences and asked me to translate them into English, which I also did. Then we began conversing (in Pashto) about her. It turned out that she had spent quite some time in my childhood city, Peshawar and in Islamabad, the Capital. I told her my favorite Pashto song was "warsha pekhawar la, kamis tor mala rawara..." and we both got a little nostalgic.
I told my wife, who was not too pleased, but after some discussion, decided to let me do it if that is what I really wanted. She told me it was a very dangerous situation, but I told her it was probably as dangerous to drive about here and that I would make sure to be careful. Besides, I joked, I would have a huge protection squad around me whenever I left the base...she said that was also one of her worries, would I be able to hold off spouting my opinions in front of the soldiers, for a whole year? What if I was asked to interpret for someone who was being tortured? I told her I would refuse and report them up the chain..."Yeah, THAT will get you friends with the soldiers!", said my wife. "What if they take you into the desert and don't come back with you?" I told her that is unlikely to happen..."unlikely" was the wrong word to use...
A few days later, MEP called and said I had scored one of the highest scores for their interpreters, I began to wonder about the quality of their interpreters.
It was time for me to go to Baltimore for interviews, deeper background check and maybe some training. If I passed, then I would have to spend about a month somewhere else for REAL training and then its off to work I go.
I decided it was time to share this information and the fact that I may soon be gone for a year to Afghanistan, with a few friends.
Every friend I shared this information with, would freeze at first and then tell me to forget it because it would be too dangerous, some even asked me if I was sure MEP had actually Googled me! A couple of people were very impressed I was doing this and told me they were "proud" of me, almost as if they could not believe I would feel "American" enough to risk my life for "democracy".
One friend told me of one person he knows who went to Iraq as in interpreter and came back swearing he would never place himself in such a position again, my friend told me of the many times his friend had related the miseries he had to suffer at the hands of American soldiers because he was an A-rab.
A few friends told me I would be MUCH more useful working in some capacity with the new Administration on issues to do with South and Central Asia, but I told them that while I agreed with them, it would be pretty near impossible for me to get any kind of a job with the Obama Administration because I did not know anyone high enough to have me considered...besides, I KNOW I would get rejected once my name was Googled!
My sister in Bellevue got more than a little worried and lectured me about taking care of the family, but decided I was not going to listen to my "little" sister, so she let it go for the time being; I persuaded her not to tell my sister in Holland, because she tends to worry a little too much.
I got hold of a few Pashto dictionaries from Pakistan, to polish up on my Pashto.
Then the call came, I had passed all the checks and it was time to go to Baltimore for two weeks. I made arrangements to go and wound up some things I was involved in and asked friends to take over some others, I was ready. I asked MEP for details of exactly when I would be going, and was told they did not have the information yet because they had not bought the tickets. I asked if they could get tickets at such short notice and she laughed, "When the US govt wants tickets, they get them!"
Okay...
As I waited for the ticket, I started thinking about Afghanistan, I wondered if I could go to Pakistan on my times off or, if I should? Where would I be able to go on times off? Would there be any times off?!!
I began to think of how I may be useful as in interpreter, how I may be able to help people understand each other and thus, interact more peacefully.
What would happen here while I was gone, Kathy would have to look after the household all on her own.
I began to think a little more...
Finally a few days before I really expected the tickets, I came to a decision; I would not go.
Firstly and most importantly (this clinched it), my wife put her foot down and told me I could go for the interview, I could go for the training, but sure as the Sun rises in the East, I am NOT going to Afghanistan. She said even if I came back alive and in one piece, she did not believe the same man who left, would return to her and she did not want to deal with someone with PTSD (Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder).
Secondly, I had a few interactions with my friend Captain Yusuf (James) Yee and that started me thinking even more. I thought about the horrors he had to suffer, 76 days in solitary prison, all sorts of accusations of treachery and a ruined life and career; if his colleagues could do these injustices to him, I wondered what they could do to me if a God-forsaken place like Afghanistan?
Being fully aware of the anti-Muslim, anti-Islam hate that is being taught at our military training academies and other facilities, I came to the conclusion that while I could live with suspicion from Afghans and I could work to mitigate it, I could not live in a climate where the people on my "side" would look at me with suspicion and would expect me to "prove" my loyalty again and again; I had no desire to be their "Rag-head" or, "Sand-nigger", as the terms are for Arabs and Muslims.
I did not want to risk of being handed over to the tender mercies of Afghan jailers just because someone did not like me and concocted some allegations, like they did against my friend Captain Yee.
With some regret and sorrow, I called MEP and told them I would not be joining them.
Jeff Siddiqui
Response from Mikey
January 14, 2009
.........you are my hero,Jeff!......you made the right choice, my brother......the rabid Islamophobia and anti-arab bigotry we at MRFF see everyday is just frickin' OFF THE SCALE!!......our nation and military excellence levels will be MARKEDLY diminished without a champion of your rare ilk and qualifications.......and they have ONLY themselves to blame..........admiringly, your friend forever,
Mikey
