March 2003 / War Declared - Arrested / 4 of 6

I wondered at our common thoughts, as the youths were called out to make statements, and I was left alone to read a small religious tract about pacifism that had been handed to me at the protest by a small girl in a veil.
Two young teenage girls, age 13 or 14 were brought in, and I was moved to the other cell, where the rest of the men were. The two teenagers were an inspiration, and treated the whole thing like a joke. There were maybe half a dozen people in the cell I entered. The atmosphere was of resigned humor and surrealism. It was tremendously heartening, somehow, to hear all the ridiculous reasons we had been detained. There was a Pole and a Spaniard in the cell, several Dutch kids and an elderly man, a third generation Surinamer whose grandfather had migrated to Holland. He told us that he had picked up an empty can in frustration and hurled it in the direction of the US Consulate, because he was “so frustrated at those fuck them americans”. His can had struck a passing police van, and he had been picked up, and exhaustively questioned about any affiliations with Arabic groups and countries, until eventually he lost his patience. “I am a third generation Dutchman, I have children and grandchildren here, I am more Dutch than you!” Whereupon he had been fingerprinted, had his waist measured, photographed, and returned to the cell (I saw him outside later, and he said that he had not been charged with anything).
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