A week in the Middle East

We quickly start chatting; without little prompting, he tells me about his understanding of Islam, which he emphatically describes as a religion of peace. What about the Sept. 11 hijackers, who killed in the name of his religion?

"The people who [committed Sept. 11] who had Muslim names are not even Muslims," he says. "Killing of innocent people is against Islam. Killing yourself - suicide - is not permissible. So either way, it's against the beliefs of Islam."

Khalil, who moved to Canada from Pakistan seven years ago, speaks highly of Toronto's multiculturalism, and of the relative tolerance of Canadian and US cultures. But for him and his friends, he says, the mood has shifted since the attacks. He has friends with professional degrees who can't get jobs because of their Muslim names, he says. And because intolerance and the unlawful detention of Muslims is rising, he adds, many skilled professionals are returning from the US and Canada to their home countries.

"I believe the US and Canada are very good societies and that the general public are very good people. But now that [the US] has broken its own laws, Muslims are fleeing back to their own countries. These are doctors, engineers, architects - people who helped build the society."

But Khalil is most worried about young Americans, whom he sees as particularly vulnerable to anti-Muslim sentiment. Education about Islam's true beliefs, he says, is needed to teach non-Muslim American young people to exercise tolerance.

"The young generation have heard so much about the bad side [of Islam]," he says. "We need to educate society again."

Conservation soon turns to Iraq, and the possibility of war. "It's just to get control of the oil fields," he says. "They couldn't find any weapons of mass destruction. And even if they produced some for their own defense, that's their right, like Canada or the US."

At the end of our talk, he excuses himself to pray, bowing his head to tray table in front of him. I turn my eyes up toward the flight's movie screen just in time to catch Goldie Hawn trying on a particularly form-fitting sweater. It seems likely that I'll see more such contradictions before my trip is over.

It's a long way from Boston to Jerusalem.

For the past year, I've served as The Christian Science Monitor's Middle East editor, working with reporters stationed halfway around the world.

Most of the time, assisted by e-mail, international long distance, and thick stacks of patience, we're able to understand one another.

But it's hard not to be conscious of the distance between my desk and the crowded streets of Cairo. Or the Israeli settlements that dot the West Bank and Gaza Strip. Or the palaces of Iraq.

And from the US, it's easy to forget that just beyond the suicide bombings, Israeli incursions, Al Qaeda operatives and rumors of war, there's an entire population that keeps waking up every morning and trying their best to lead a normal life.

Tonight, I'm heading to Amman, Jordan to bring some cash and gear out to the Monitor's Middle East correspondent, Cameron Barr.

I'll be spending a week traveling through Jordan, Israel and the Occupied Territories, tagging along with Monitor correspondents as they follow the news. I'll also gamely attempt to keep my wits about in one of the world's most politically and culturally complicated regions.

As an amateur historian and longtime observer of the region, I'm comfortable talking about Mideast politics and policy. But having read about the fear that so often prevails in the West Bank and the streets of Jerusalem, the idea of actually strolling through either has me on edge.

But our reporters do it every day. And I'll be doing it this week. I hope you'll join me for the trip.

Page: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4