‘Some Just Like to Hate’
I am receiving hateful e-mails; e-mails claiming Barack Obama is really Muslim, and that Muslims are trying to take over America. Sometimes I wonder how well my friends really know me? Sometimes I wonder how well I know my friends, that they would be so nice and kind as I know them to be, and so rabid in their hate-filled beliefs?
When I found this article today in AOL News it comforted me . . . that this round of Anti-Islam is no where near so mindless and destructive as the hatred of the Catholics, of the Mormons, of the Jews. I can only hope that this too, shall pass.
I work at changing perceptions one person at a time. The most common question I get about living in Jordan, Tunisia, Saudi Arabia, Qatar and Kuwait is “Weren’t you scared?” and I laugh, and point out that the crime rate in Pensacola is much higher, and that the risks of my walking alone in any of those countries was much less than here.
I tell them about my time with women in those countries, the many kindnesses I received, the fun we had working and playing together. They know I am religious. It puzzles them that I can find being around people so different from me comfortable. I tell them how we share values, how being around religious women from Qatar is easier than being around non-believing American women. It’s the stories that make the difference. I can understand why Jesus spoke so often in metaphors. You have to find some way to explain that people can understand, some way they can visualize and connect to what may seem alien and strange.
Andrea Stone
Senior Washington Correspondent
WASHINGTON (Aug. 19) — Are Muslims the new Jews? Or Irish Catholics? Perhaps Mormons? Or are they really the war on terror’s Japanese?
Religious experts and historians say: all of the above.
The still-unfolding controversy over plans to build an Islamic center near ground zero is just the latest chapter in a long saga of religious and ethnic misunderstanding that experts say goes back to the nation’s earliest days.
Fear of foreigners dates to the Alien and Sedition Acts of 1798, which were aimed at French immigrants suspected of disloyalty, said American University historian Allan Lichtman. “Then it was the Irish, the Germans, and the Catholics, and the Jews,” he said. “These waves of xenophobia are as American as apple pie unfortunately.”
Despite the appeal of blaming the overheated rhetoric over the dispute in lower Manhattan on the still raw emotions left over from the Sept. 11 attacks, antipathy toward Muslims predates the furor around the proposed Park51 Islamic center.
A Gallup Poll conducted late last year found 43 percent of Americans admit to feeling some prejudice toward followers of Islam. That’s more than twice the number who feel that way about Christians, Jews or Buddhists.
Acts of vandalism against mosques are rising. Plans to build new ones sprout not-in-my-backyard protests and even calls to outlaw them. Muslim women complain that bans on head scarfs trample their religious rights. In Florida, congressional candidate Allen West, who has been endorsed by Sarah Palin, has said Islam is not a religion but “a totalitarian theocratic political ideology.”
Blogs such as Stop Islamization of America and Creeping Sharia have helped lay the foundation for the controversy. And the culture war promises to grow even hotter. A fundamentalist Christian pastor who describes Islam as “of the devil” has called for an “International Burn a Quran Day” to mark the ninth anniversary of 9/11 next month. A more mainstream minister, Franklin Graham, was booted from a prayer service at the Pentagon, where Muslim prayer is welcome, after he called Islam “evil.”
Yet is any of this new? While nearly one in five believe, incorrectly, that Barack Obama is a Muslim, this is not the first time a president has been suspected of lying about his religion. Anti-Semites and Nazi sympathizers spread false rumors in the 1930s that Franklin Delano Roosevelt, a mainline Episcopalian, was Jewish.
The latest debate reveals “the dark underbelly of the American psyche,” said Boston University religion professor Stephen Prothero, author of “God Is Not One: The Eight Rival Religions That Run the World–and Why Their Differences Matter.” “We keep imagining that we’ve outgrown our religious bigotry and we haven’t. It keeps getting tested for each new religious group.”
Everything old is new again
Scholars liken today’s Muslim bashing to similar episodes in American history. In the 19th century, the nativist Know-Nothing Party wanted to prevent immigrants, especially Irish Catholics, from coming to America. Prejudice against Mormons forced them to flee west to Utah. Anti-Semitism spawned lynchings as, of course, did racism.
In 1924, Congress clamped down on immigration from eastern and southern Europe — home to such “undesirables” as Italians and Jews — as well as all of Asia. And after the attack on Pearl Harbor, more than 110,000 Japanese-Americans living on the West Coast were forced into internment camps for the duration of World War II.
Today’s debate over the mosque “is very mild compared to some of these previous episodes,” said John Green, a University of Akron political scientist who studies religion and politics. He notes that religion, ethnicity and race are often conflated to produce a conflict between new groups and old groups.
“Each of these episodes has its unique circumstances,” he said, “but they appear to be most severe when the unpopular group is linked to national security and the definition of the nation. 9/11 is a good example and many of these episodes were associated with wars. Other were linked to other crises like state rights, civil rights, immigration and communism.”
Louise Cainkar, a Marquette University sociologist, sees similarities to anti-German sentiment during World War I and against the Japanese in World War II but says neither were as “strong or pervasive” as the feelings about Muslims. The only thing that comes close, she said, was the anti-Catholic movement of the 19th century that lingered in a less-virulent form until 1960, when presidential candidate John F. Kennedy had to affirm publicly that he would take no orders from the pope.
Religion and politics have often mixed in America, with uneven results. After 9/11, President George W. Bush rejected the formula that Islam equaled terrorism and spoke out loudly in favor of religious tolerance. In the current debate, political rhetoric has ranged from far right to moderate middle to wishy-washy to impassioned.
But Prothero was struck by two reactions “by politicians who should know better” — Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid and Republican presidential hopeful Mitt Romney. Both men oppose the proposed Islamic center in lower Manhattan and both are Mormons.
“It’s unconscionable and frankly shocking that any Mormon would speak on this issue the way Romney and Reid have spoken. Don’t they remember that the founder of their religion was assassinated by an anti-Mormon mob?” said Prothero, who also wrote “Religious Literacy: What Every American Needs to Know — And Doesn’t.”
Yet he said the men are typical of Americans who live in one of the most religious countries on earth but are “astonishingly ignorant” about religion. He noted that Imam Faisal Abdul Rauf, who heads the Cordoba Initiative behind the proposed Islamic center, is a Sufi. Sufism is a tolerant strain of Islam that Osama bin Laden and al-Qaida consider an infidel religion and whose shrine in Pakistan was recently the target of a double suicide bombing.
“I find the lack of memory frightening,” Prothero said. “This is a classic moment when it helps to remember something about American history β that our freedoms have been hard won.”
Muslims in America
Akbar Ahmed, chairman of the Islamic studies department at American University and a former Pakistani diplomat, visited 100 mosques in 75 cities over the last year for his new book, “Journey Into America: The Challenge of Islam.” What he found in interviews with Muslims and non-Muslims, native-born and immigrant, was a common feeling of being under siege from a faltering economy, natural disasters and two wars at a time when the first non-white president in history “has become a lightening rod for everything that is going on in America.”
But he said the controversy “is not just about one mosque, although that is a very special and sensitive one because of 9/11. It is much more.”
Ahmed said Muslims haven’t had the chance to go through “the process of Americanization that successive waves of immigrants” did before them.
When the Immigration Act of 1965 opened the door for the first time to people from Third World countries — many of them Muslims — the doctors, lawyers and engineers who came “flew straight into the American dream,” Ahmed said. “Nobody challenged them. They didn’t go through the century-long process that Italians and Jews did” to be accepted. But when 9/11 happened, “People said, ‘Who are these Muslims? We don’t know anything about them’ ” and some quickly equated the 19 hijackers with all Muslims in America.
“Some Muslims have been here five generations,” Ahmed said, “but today they are all under a cloud.”
Cainkar, author of “Homeland Insecurity: The Arab American and Muslim American Experience after 9/11,” noted that Arabs have lived in America for more than a century but anti-Arab feelings intensified only after the Six-Day War in 1967 and have since combined to inflame ill will toward Muslims. Today, she said, those speaking out against the proposed mosque are motivated by more than just religious beliefs.
“Some have foreign policy interests. Some think a strong America means controlling Muslim movements and countries. Some support Israel and so understand that to mean opposing Muslims. Some have a conservative view of American society and think it should be Euro-American. Some don’t like people of color. Some believe Jesus is our savior and other religions are false. Some just like to hate,” she said.
“It is not really about Muslims at all — they actually know very little about them.”
Zeitoun by Dave Eggers
Do you remember being in university, and how when it came time to buy textbooks, the new ones were really, really expensive, and sometimes you couldn’t find it used and you just had to bite the bullet? Especially in political science and international relations, it didn’t take me long to figure out that many of the authors had one little idea, and they stretched it, kneaded it, elaborated upon it, made each different iteration a new chapter – but essentially, they took this one little idea, stretched it into a book and charged $30-$40 bucks for what might have made a good essay in Foreign Affairs or the New Yorker.
I often felt so cheated. I often find that when I look at the New York Times list of Best selling Non Fiction, most of the books look just like that.
When I bought Zeitoun, that day I just needed an escape, I didn’t know it was non-fiction. I had seen Zeitoun mentioned, even advertised in my very favorite magazine, The New Yorker. I fell in love with The New Yorker when I was a kid, even though I didn’t understand half of the comics, I thought they were hilarious. I still do. π When my New Yorker arrives, I read it cover to cover, and I often order books reviewed or recommended there.
I started Zeitoun shortly after watching the HBO series TremeΒ΄ about life just after Hurricane Katrina, so this book was timely and relevant. Zeitoun, a Syrian immigrant to the US whose wife is a Moslem convert, has a thriving painting and contracting business. When Katrina threatens, his wife and kids leave town, but he stays to watch over his multiple properties and businesses.
He survives the hurricane, and actually finds the change of pace enjoyable. He has a canoe he bought at a yard sale, and he rows around the neighborhood feeding dogs locked inside his neighbors houses, checking on his friends, rescuing stranded people or notifying rescue services where people need their help – he has a feeling he is exactly where he is meant to be, that he stayed on in New Orleans as part of God’s purpose for his life. He feels valuable and useful.
Then, one day, as he is checking on one of his rental properties, he is arrested, along with three friends, in the one house they know has water for showers and a working land line, which they all use to call their families. It is Zeitoun’s property. They are arrested by the National Guard.
One of Zeitoun’s friends, Nassar, has ten thousand dollars with him. Any of us who are expats can laugh – every expat has his cache of emergency escape money. Nassar, on hearing the hurricane was coming, withdrew his savings from the bank so it would be safe. The National Guard arrests them and takes all their money, wallets, identification and sends them off to jail, and in the chaos of post-Katrina New Orleans/ Louisiana bureaucracy, there is no paperwork and their families have no idea where they are.
Nassar and Zeitoun come into the worst of it, because they have Arab names, because of the large amount of cash Nassar has, and Homeland Security advisory that terrorist organizations could try to take advantage of the post-disaster confusion. It is seriously Kafka-esque; they are good men who are just in the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong last names. Most of the meals served in the prison contain ham or bacon or pork. The system just stops working, and they never even get to telephone people who could clear their names and get them out.
I couldn’t stop reading. Eggers captures the sensual aftermath, the sewage, the foul water, the stink of rotting food and rotting bodies, and the bureaucratic nightmare of trying to prove you are innocent when you don’t even know the charges against you, and people are being picked up on mere suspicions.
While Zeitoun is eventually released from prison, and his construction and painting business flourishes, his family is not left untouched by the post-traumatic stresses the events surrounding Katrina. Every life resounds with the impact of Katrina and the damage inflicted on New Orleans. His friend Nassar never got his ten thousand dollars back.
I love books about people who come to America, create a business, and make a go of it. Zeitoun is one of the best – he isn’t afraid of hard work, and he loves his life and family. His story is well worth a read.
Zeitoun is available from Amazon.com for a mere $10.85 plus shipping, and while I own stock in Amazon, I don’t get any kind of payment for mentioning them in reviews. π
The Edmonds Market
I made a quick round of the market very early, as I wanted flowers to welcome Mom back. First round – maple bars, flowers, farm grown zucinni and carrots, and some lovely farm-raised lamb chops for dinner.
Later, Mom told me about the wonderful Pear and Gorgonzola pizzas made at the market, and after some grocery shopping, I stopped by and ordered the Pear Gorgonzola and the Pizza Fresca, both vegetarian, and, woo hooo, very thin crusted, and baked right there on the street in a special oven they have created:
Mom was right. The pizzas were really, really good. We also had enough left over to freeze several slices to microwave on a night when she doesn’t feel like a heavy dinner.
While I was waiting for my pizzas, I visited my favorite soap maker. Last year, I asked for clove soap. AdventureMan and I fell in love with clove soap in Zanzibar, and we have used ever sliver and are yearning for more. This year, she had it! And more! Wonderful soaps, but these two are my favorites:
Sorry there is no photo of the gorgeous finished pizzas, but we gobbled them right up. π
The Edmonds Bakery
I found it. I found the perfect cake. It was nothing like the cakes I auditioned. I found it in my hometown, Edmonds, Washington.
Edmonds is a quiet town, once the sun goes down. On weekends, it can be crowded and lively, and yesterday the sign telling cars lined up for the ferry said the wait would be about two hours. There is a movie theatre, which is small and homey, but plays first run films. It is playing Inception now. Edmonds is full of cool stores – a cheesemonger, several travel stores, home / kitchen wares, and is also home to Rick Steve’s Europe Through the Back Door.
My very first stop is The Edmonds Bakery.

I love this place. I even love that it is closed on Sundays, even when other stores are open, even if it inconveniences me, I love it that they take their day of rest.
Mom is coming home from rehab today. No, no, I know how that sounds, but she has been recuperating from breaking her wrist. It is also her birthday tomorrow, so it is a double celebration, and Mom loves Maple Bars. The Edmonds Bakery makes great maple bars. In fact, they bake all kinds of wonderful treats, cinnamon rolls, pecan rolls, apple danish, snails, twists – every good thing baked with sugar and fat, they make it.
And there in the window, advertising wedding cakes, I found it. I found the perfect cake for September 6th, the blogging anniversary. It’s the one in back, the white one with the black filigree decor. Sort of Spanish looking – it’s the Arab influence. π I like them both, black and white, whoda thunk, but the filigree wins my heart.
There are booths and tables in the Edmonds Bakery, so if you are exploring Edmonds, or planning to take the ferry over to the Olympic Peninsula, take a minute to go in for a sweet and a cup of coffee. It’s the true taste of Edmonds. π
By the way, if you go early, you will easily find a parking place, even on Saturdays. I went around 8:30, just as the Edmonds Market was cranking up. The weather was foggy and hazy and a mere 70Β° F / 20Β°, so take hoodie or a wrap with you. Seattle mornings can be refreshing (AdventureMan might call them chilly.)
February Barnacles
I rarely miss a water aerobics class. The Y makes it easy, even if I oversleep, there is also a 0930 class, or if I’m feeling bad, there are also classes on Tuesday and Thursday. Since I’m going to have to make it up anyway, I just go. I rarely feel bad enough to stay home, and most things I can schedule for after my class.
Any kind of aerobics class is funny. I try to be friendly to everyone, because these classes can be a real pain in the patootie if there are cliques or snobs, it starts to feel like junior high all over again, and God knows, that was bad enough the first time. Life is too short.
But there is one spot I really like. I like to be in the back of the class, so I can exercise harder or differently and not confuse anyone else. I’ve been doing water aerobics for a while and sometimes while the rest of the class is doing cross-country, for example, I will do it off the floor of the pool, or do an extra kick on the jacks, things like that, so it just works better for me to be at the back of the class. I also like to be at a certain depth, not too deep and not too shallow. So . . . regrettably . . . I am one of those people who have a spot.
Sometimes if I am a little late someone else stands in “my” spot and I have to stand somewhere else. I don’t worry about it, people in these classes come and go, and I usually get to stand there. If I don’t, I am still OK.
There are two other women on the back wall with me, who are pretty much always in their same places, and we really do have a good time. I joke that we are the barnacles, stuck to the back wall. This morning, I complimented one of them on her earrings, and she said they were amethysts for February, and as it turns out, we all have birthdays within one week of one another in February – all three of us, within one week. What an amazing coincidence.
She worked us hard this morning, and it is a good thing, as I fly this afternoon for Seattle. Keep me in your prayers for safe travels, and travel mercies, please!
Panhandle Politicians
One of the things I liked best about living in Kuwait was the lively press. When the press has freedom – and freedom is always relative – people have to be more careful about what they do. Here, on a daily basis, the Pensacola News Journal has a crime section where they run crime news AND they list the daily felony arrests – who, what and where. I love it that they name names.
When I opened the paper this week, I thought I was back in Kuwait. There is a race for an open seat in the House of Representatives, and one candidate has just been arrested for trafficking drugs. Another candidate and his wife were videotaped sneaking out and stealing their opponent’s campaign signs. LLLOOOLLL. This is hilarious:
People think there are such huge differences between our countries. . . and yet we breed the same politicians, the religious fundamentalists, the ‘get-rich-quicks-by-lining-my-pockets’ kind of guys, the developers . . . it’s almost as if when you run for office, there has to be something wrong with you. It’s a sad day for democracy when these are our candidates. What a difference technology is making – it can help keep us honest.
Christ-Church-in-the-Gym
Today, with ample notification, the congregation met over in the Episcopal Day School Gym, while the air conditioning in the main cathedral and office buildings is being replaced. We sat on folding chairs, shoulder to shoulder, and we didn’t have kneelers.
Except for the congregation not being 1/3 Indian and 1/3 African and 1/3 all-the-rest-of-us, I would have thought I was back in Doha. π We sing the same music, follow the same liturgy – it is such a comfort, just about anywhere in the world we go, most of what we do follows the same pattern. Fellowship was held in the back of the gym, just like Doha. I’m beginning to know a few faces, and we nod a little (after all, we are Episcopalians) and I am happy our son and his wife also know a few people so worship feels more like family. Our little grandson loves the baby-care; they take such good care of him.
We have learned to live with – even adapt to – the differences wherever we might go. Some places, it’s all “smells and bells” i.e. incense, bells, high church formality. Some places it’s more evangelical, “new” music and hands in the air. Christ Church in Pensacola is old school, liturgical, but without the smells and bells. The sermons are down to earth and applicable.
The sermon today was on just that – keeping our mind on the substance of what we believe, and letting the stylistic differences go. Amen to that.
News and Roosters
“How’d you sleep?” I cheerily greeted my sister, Sparkle, newly arrived from Paris to our small farming village in Germany.
“That #*%@ing ROOSTER!” she exclaimed. “He started crowing around 3:00 a.m. and never stopped! You must have heard him! He was right under our window!”
No. No, there was no rooster under our windows. The nearest rooster was up in the next farm, maybe 100 yards away. But I kind of remembered when we first moved in, I think I remember we heard him. We no longer heard him. You just get used to it, I guess.
What brings this to mind is that KUOW in Seattle has a program today on the Seattle City Council vote – they are about to vote to increase the number of chickens allowed by ‘urban farmers’ but to prohibit the roosters.
You can hear the discussion for yourself by going to KUOW. There are some hilarious comments, one by a man who said “Sure, ban roosters, right after you ban boom boxes, and teenagers, and heavy trucks, and garbage pickups. There are a lot worse sounds in the city than roosters!” (I may have paraphrased that quote, I was laughing too hard to write it all down.)
AdventureMan and I love National Public Radio. We support our local NPR station, WUWF in Pensacola, which I listen to while I am driving, but when I am working on a project, I still stream KUOW, which I started doing while I was living in the Gulf. I love the huge variety of opinions and subjects, and I appreciate that there is more news in the world than what they show on TV, after all, on TV they can only show what they have film footage of. There are books to be discussed, and movies, and music, and social situations in Khandahar and Botswana and Sri Lanka and boy soldiers in Liberia . . . things I haven’t a clue about unless I listen to my national public radio station. I read the paper daily. I watch the news once a day – but it doesn’t meet the depth of coverage of NPR.
I think chickens are pretty cool. They are also pretty stupid, but I am all for a chicken or two, fresh eggs, etc. When I needed fresh eggs in Germany, I just walked up the hill and bought them from the chicken lady. When I asked my landlady about recycling, she just laughed, and we walked our food leftovers, peelings, coffee grounds, etc up the hill and threw them over the fence for the chickens. I don’t even mind roosters. Sorry, Sparkle!
Margaritaville on Pensacola Beach
The weather was beautiful in Pensacola, all 4th of July weekend to the fireworks. Early Monday morning, all hell broke loose, the heavens opened and it poured rain.
In spite of the good weather leading up to the Fourth, the droves that usually invade the beaches to celebrate didn’t materialize. One restaurant owner said his business was down 80% from last year at this time. We decided, in spite of the rain, to head over to the beach for lunch, do our small part for the Pensacola Beach economy.
LLLOOOLLLL! The first place we tried, Peg Leg Pete’s, (“Our Latitude Will Change Your Attitude”) had such a crowd that the wait was 25 – 30 minutes, standing out in the rain, so we passed. Our second choice, Crabs – We Got ‘Em was closed until 4 pm. Oh AAARRGH,, but there is still the brand new Jimmy Buffet hotel, Margaritaville and we’ve been eager to take a look so in we go.
Bad news is that you can’t use the underground parking lot, even on a rainy day, unless you are a hotel guest. Good news is that if you are dining in the restaurant, valet parking is free, and when you have a baby and car seat with you, valet parking is very very good. π
Margaritaville is beautiful, and fun. As soon as you walk in, it is beachy; beautiful sand and sea colors, a faux straw mat floor and comfy beach-home furniture. Beach music, too.
The view of Pensacola beach, even on a rainy day, is glorious. Please note that the beaches are CLEAN. Come to Pensacola! Save the economy!
Our original plans had been to find one of the beachy restaurants, you know, family restaurants, full of kids, one more little baby wouldn’t even be noticed. The main demographic in the Margaritaville restaurant was couples, mostly 50-ish, women in sundresses they were a little too big for, and men in big bright flowered shirts, drinking fancy beach drinks (There is a whole page of them π ). There was one baby, and few other children.
We only had to wait about 15 minutes to get in, and there was a nice lounge where we could wait. We had the popcorn shrimp for starters, and we liked it. The bacon cheeseburger was good, according to my son, and the crab cake sandwich disappeared in a heartbeat. Baby Q was good as gold and had is first taste of dill pickle. He liked it! My seafood salad had macaroni in it. Aargh. Service was good, unobtrusive and friendly.
It’s a nice place. I would stay there. I love the clean lines and the sea colors. There are other places I would rather eat.
Freedom Isn’t Free
Happy Birthday, United States of America! Happy Fourth of July, AdventureMan.















