The Nature of Muslims

Two stories, somewhat off topic, but relevant to our times.

While in my twenties, I was loaned by my employer in Houston to our affiliate office in the Netherlands. I was working on a project with Saudi Arabia's, AMRAMCO as our client, after that job was completed my employer's plans for me was to send me off to an on site desert compound where we were building a huge petro-chemical plant. It was a real third world assignment-in the desert outside Basrah,Iraq (No Way Jose I thought, as it turned out that compound got bombed by Iran as the kickoff to the Iraq-Iran eight year slaughter fest just before I was to go.) Anyway, I worked in The Hague for the better part of a year. When I first arrived, I read through our project contract we had with Saudi. I found the executed contract contained a paragraph that stated " Your Company Shall Not Allow Jews To Work On This Project."

The Dutch follow many customs, one they have adopted is British Tea Time. At 10am and 4pm everyday a pretty, young woman would roll her tea cart through the office and serve everyone tea. Unlike many Dutch she spoke no English. I noticed around her neck she wore a gold chain with a Star of David pendant. Their were others in that office who were Jews as well working to bring clean desalinated ocean water to the Saudis. Fresh drinking water, water to grow crops,water to bathe in. That paragraph burned me up, and after some time I felt my colleagues acceptance level allowed me to ask the question. How do you comply with such an abhorrent stipulation? "We Lie". God Bless the Dutch. I have visited Ann Frank's apartment in Utrecht, and I have stood in the gas chamber showers of Dachau outside Munich. That paragraph sickens me to this day as much as any holocaust historic site I've ever visited in my life.

The Hague is the Capital of The Netherlands. It is home to the World Court,the internationally recognized world's Supreme Court. The Hague also has over 100 foreign embassies and consulates. Like any national capital the secret world of espionage flourishes in that city. An under appreciated fact of life by me at time. One of the acquaintances I made while there was a Libyan, I have long since forgotten his name however.I meet him at the hotel where I lived while in Holland, the Hotel Centrale in The Hague. Every so often after work, I would spend some time downstairs in the hotel bar. Most all the staff were my age, and we often went out together at night when they weren't working. I usually sat at the bar visiting with the bartender,off duty desk clerks who would come in to say hi, or waitresses they were my hotel friends. By chance one night I happened to sit next to a very polite, well dressed,suave,ruggedly well built, mid 30's guy, nice looking gent. He struck up a conversation with me. What country was I from? Was I in Holland on business or pleasure? What company did I work for? What type of work were we doing? What job did I do for my company? Those were the initial questions. I had a few for him as well. Libya, Seaside Villa on the Coast,Ex Military, Libyan Air Lines, Buying Jets. (From Holland?? Airbus is thataway down near Paris) For whatever reason, my alarm bells were going off. I felt as if I was being "recruited". Libyan Terrorism was going strong back then.
Over the months I had several pleasant conversations with this refined Arab. I tended to take people at their word. I did find it odd a Muslim would be in the bar drinking as often as this 24 yr old American Infidel. Whenever the "recruitment" questions arose, I changed the conversation to family and home or pretty girls. After a while the subtle recruitment process stopped, we were more friends than adversaries. The conversations became normal, to the point I questioned my own suspicions. He showed me a great kindness one night. I came down with a sudden and really bad case of the flu, as soon as the workday ended sick as a dog, I hit the hotel bar. I had no doctor to visit, so it was self remedy time. The Libyan was there, after he found out I was very sick, he told me to drink Brandy. He bought round after round for me enough so I no longer ached or shivered from my fever. That was the last time I saw him. A few months after I got back to the US, I was reading Newsweek. The article talked of Quaddifi's Libyan spy service. The average Libyan lives a life of poverty. His spys however are former military, they are provided Mediterranean seaside villas, and their usual employment cover story-they work for Air Libya. Meet Sheik James Bond, Steve. I am forever glad our conversations did nothing to further his goals, but none the less thanks for the Brandy, that was very kind of you.


Steve