Goodbye my Muslim friends, I’ll miss you.

Many years ago, before 9/11, I worked for the Department of State and lived in Algeria, which is a Muslim country situated on the north coast of Africa.  Within days of arriving, I felt comfortable and at ease with the Muslim community.  Although the Algerians were curious about my background and reason for being in Algeria, I was received well and made friends easily.  Life was pleasant for nearly a month, but then turned quite ominous.  Out of no where and with very little warning, a civil war erupted between those I had befriended and Muslim fundamentalist.  A war between western beliefs and an evil army, two hundred thousand soldiers strong.  A war very similar to the war on terrorism we fight today.

Algeria was a French Colony until 1962.  Although the relationship between France and Algeria was anything but pleasant, growing up and living under French rule helped to form many of the beliefs and values held by most Algerians.  I found, even in 1991, that many of the social rules we live by as Americans had been adopted by this Muslim society.  Women wanted to work and go to school.  Teens loved to listen to western style music and followed the same fashion trends as the most popular high school students in Malibu.  Nightclubs were popular, alcohol was consumed in quantity and women were eager to express their independence and right to choose.  Even though they followed the Koran, adhered to the daily calls to prayer and believed in a different God, they as people were no different than the average American man, woman or child.  And, they too fought a war against terrorism.

As the war continued, countless innocent lives were lost at the hands of extremist.  Intent on killing all who believed differently than their warped interpretation of the Koran, young children at bus stops often became the targets.  Women not properly covered, men in western style clothes and foreigners were gunned down with AK-47 assault weapons and 7.62 ammunition.  Airports and travel agencies were bombed daily.  Outdoor cafes were likely targets of drive by shootings. Death was everywhere and blood ran like rain water into the city sewers.

Yet my friends were still my friends.  They condemned the actions of the few who often spoke for the many.  They assured me that the Koran was not and evil book that encouraged the execution of infidels.  They loved their county, they loved their religion and they hated the extremist who portrayed them in such a poor light.  They often stood by my side as I fought for my life and the lives of others I was sworn to protect.  My Muslim friends stood guard outside my house and protected the American Embassy and Consulate in Algeria with strength and conviction, and often with their lives.  Good Muslim people, willing to die for America and its cause.  Not a story you will often hear.

I will never forget the compassion and friendship so readily bestowed upon me while in Algeria.   Unfortunately I was only given 12 short months to learn about this exciting and challenging country.  Due to an injury, I was taken out of the country with no notice and no opportunity to thank those that had so deeply touched my life.  I never had a chance to say goodbye to any of them, but will remember them until the day I die.