An Iraqi exploding conversation... (A group of Iraqi men and women, old and young sit outside a café smoking and drinking coffee.) Open the play [+/-] ONE: I was born on the day the tanks first... TWO: ...rolled? ONE: Yes. Into Kuwait. TWO: All those years ago- THREE: Seems like yesterday. TWO: -upon the blistering desert sands my father raised his hands in surrender. THREE: I too raised my hands. They- TWO: Yes. THREE: -only thought I was surrendering… TWO: Yes. THREE: I was praying. TWO: Praying. FIVE: Praying. Yes. FOUR: Americans and their tanks and jeeps and humvees and guns and bombs- SIX: -were everywhere then. FOUR: Yes. Like locust. ONE: For a short time English was the regions second language. SIX: Today. ONE: Today it is. SIX: English speaking infidel. FIVE: We, my father and our friends, were nothing more than puppets for Saddam- SIX: Yes. FIVE: -and Saddam was the American puppet. SIX: Yes. TWO: We were so afraid they
(The Weaver's Song)