Anwar

Patience

Patience, I have not always. Especially not when I feel that my neighbor is wronged. The last time I lost my patience, it ended not very well. My then girlfriend in Syria walked over the street. I saw her walking from a distance. A man came up, he started calling things to her. My girlfriend did not respond. The man walked towards her and began to pull at her. I ran over there and hit the man to the ground. Finish well, I thought. Later in the day, there came jeeps in our street, full with soldiers. They had big rifles in their hands and shouted in the street: where is “Anwar Manlasadoon? Where is Anwar Manlasadoon?”. What turned out, the man I had hit was a military. They found our house and took me apart. I was struck while my father was questioned. My mother had to cry and my father tried to explain that he had a stupid, stupid son. That of course has a lot of respect for soldiers and for Assad. In the end, I was not shot as we had expected. They were susceptible to the argument that I could not have known that he was a military because he was wearing civic clothes. I shall never have the tendency to hit a Dutchman . Because the Dutch do not do it themselves. If my Dutch girlfriend was to be bothered on the streets, I would (hopefully) be quiet and talk about it. Well, talk with noise then. So I make an impression. And if all of this does not help, well …. then it does not matter if there is a Syrian or Dutchman for me.

 

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