Egen

Sitting next to me is Egen, who is also skyping. He is filling his two day gap between the end of a visit to his girlfriend in Europe and his return to Iraq where he works as a prisoner guard, he tells me. Egen is twenty two years old but nevertheless one of his tasks is to prevent Iraqis from committing suicide in prison. He tells me how one must watch over suicidal prisoners in their solitary confinement cells every ten minutes and not the usual half an hour.
I look into his naive eyes, and my political opinion regarding war in Iraq becomes less urgent before the real person and his history sitting and addressing me in a very quiet and kind way.
He is telling me how he interrupted his studies in a normal college to take on this job, against his parents´ advice, and how this will allow him to pay for the rest of college and concentrate on studying without having to work aside. I ask him if he wants to pursue a career in the Military once he goes back home, he says he just wants to go back to being a civilian, finish his studies and get a degree.
In some sort of very weird way we´re close in the sense that we´re both trying to survive and yet so apart for our choices to accomplish just that are radically different. I try not judge him tonight.

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