A Peaceful Place

May 16, 2008

What concerns me about all the war, violence, and terror taking place as a daily threat in Iraq is much akin to what concerned Richard Griffiths about Auschwitz visitor centres in Alan Bennett’s The History Boys: where do they eat their sandwiches?

Having never visited – or thought about visiting – Iraq, one can only assume that it’s possibly not the most pleasant land in this world; with daily kidnappings, murders, and shootings common occurrences, it’s a wonder EasyJet aren’t offering a 7-night all-inclusive yet.

In all seriousness, though, I find it sad to think that the Iraqi people – innocently born into a country of politics and hatred – don’t have many places of solace. For example, I remember the last time I decided to go for a walk with a friend. To get some fresh air. To visit the park and feed the ducks. I remember sitting outside with a cool soft drink and my iPod, basking up the summer sun in my freshly mown garden, my friends and family around me.

Do Iraqi people step out of their front door and risk being shot at by power-hungry militia? Do they have anywhere to go to get away? Are their own minds more of a torment to them than the habitual menace of war? Do they know any different?

Honestly, I do not know. But I find it incomprehensible to imagine a place with no escape, comfort, or peace.