An Iraqi journalist on the Washington Post Metro desk

Not your average intern: Omar Fekeiki offered help to an American reporter in Baghdad and found a career.

from the August 23, 2007 edition

Page 3 of 3

Page 1 | Page 2 | 3

If he were in Baghdad, it would be different. "Here I'm having fun," he says. "There I had to stand apart and look for anything weird that might threaten the rally. I would just do the reporting and escape."

In his black slacks, blue-checked shirt, and tie with a gray lattice pattern, Fekeiki could be any young intern spending a summer on the Hill. He is about 5'8" and lithe – he rarely eats breakfast or lunch. His eyes, liquid brown, are fringed with thick lashes. He wears his hair shaved and has sprouted a tight beard that he trims every other day. In place of a laptop in his black computer bag he carries his passport, the Washington Post press pass he so proudly shows off, and extra pens and notebooks.

As a small crowd gathers, Fekeiki crosses the street. He comes alive as a reporter, animated as he moves from person to person, scribbling in his pink-lined notebook. "I love this," he says, sounding almost bubbly. "It gets to the core of what America says it's about – democracy. I am very excited because this is what people care about. If passed, or not, this [voting rights law] will change something – it's just amazing."

And, seeing it through his eyes, it is.

If he were home in Baghdad, he says, the people he approached would inevitably ask: "What difference would it make if we answer your questions? What difference if we are in your story?"

His answer: "All I can do is write about you and, hopefully, anyone with power will read it and pay attention."

When he returns to Iraq one day, Fekeiki dreams of starting his own publication, a newspaper that will speak truth to power.

Today, though, is about the demonstration, this small showing of American democracy. And getting back to his desk, on the fifth floor of The Washington Post, to write up a feed for Sheridan.

As the rally winds down, Fekeiki walks back to the subway. He takes short, quick steps, making a point of stopping at every flashing "Do not walk" light.

"I don't break the law," he says. "It's just a privilege to have it."

1 | 2 | Page 3