Wednesday, August 4, 2010


Point of View

I am here again
engaged in an inquiry
with the taxi driver
into resilience, freedom.
Sometimes his hands
fly up from the wheel
forgetting their work.
He says I am unusual
in sharing so openly
myself, my life, listening
to him intently, interested.
He studies his customers.
When he's waiting for one
he reads, debriefs with
other drivers. His accent
somewhat European,
I ask: "Where are you
from?" He says he's Iraqi
one of the 3% Christian
minority, unconflicted
therefore outside his
country even in it.
But here he is
in  New Zealand, speaking
of resilience, freedom.
"What are your languages?"
I ask. He says Arabic.
And adds: Eremaic,
which he reads, the books
sent from Iraq. And no,
I didn't know this was
Jesus Christ's language
until he said so, and suddenly
the world is richly connected
without internet.

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