If Mexico had invaded Iraq

I had a dream last night.

And in my dream, Mexico invaded Iraq.

At first they came in small groups armed with shovels, rakes, hammers, saws, and wrenches, among other hand implements of construction.

Their orders had been vague: Invade! was about all that was said. So, unsure of exactly why they were there, they began fixing bombed out houses, electrical systems and water systems, because you need a house, electricity and water.

The Iraqis observed this strange behavior of the Mexicans and soon asked them if they could borrow a few tools to do their own repairs. “Por supuesto,” said the Mexicans. “Why not? And we will help.”

Pretty soon, whole neighborhoods of cities and entire villages had running water and electricity and roofs.

The Iraqis, however, especially the children, had suffered much hunger due to the economic sanctions imposed on the country by the US after the Gulf War. So, the Mexicans planted crops, irrigated them with their crude but effective water systems.

The Iraqis also had many health problems and not enough medicines. A Mexican general made a call.

“Fidel,” he began …

The first group of doctors who know how to practice medicine in primitive conditions arrived and began to help the Iraqi doctors.

The Mexicans left a vast swathe of restored gardens in their wake as they moved, remorselessly north, rebuilding houses, repairing electrical and water systems.

“What will we do about the invasion of the Mexicans?” high Baathist officials wondered. “The Shiites of the south appreciate their efforts. The Sunni in the north are already in contact with the Mexicans to do maintenance and repair. Advance scouts of the Mexicans have already been spotted in the kitchens of Baghdad restaurants. They don’t carry guns or Bibles. The people like them. How can we fight this foreign threat? They will take over Iraq if we don’t do something.

“It is all an Anglo-American plot,” they decided.

“Then why do the Americans bomb them every once in awhile?” one high official asked.

“The Americans bomb everybody once in awhile,” said another.

But the Mexicans really had no idea of “taking over Iraq.” They just went on repairing, maintaining, planting and harvesting, with a little yard work on the side. They were just killing time before whatever was supposed to happen would happen.

Meanwhile, what was happening was that Mexicans were repairing Iraq.

“Why should I send an army to annihilate people who are repairing the damage from Iran War and the Gulf War?” asked the Supreme Leader of Iraq.

“It is an Anglo-American plot,” his closest advisors warned.

“If you say that again, I will have your heads cut off,” the Supreme Leader of Iraq said. “This babble is confusing me.”

“But …” said one advisor.

The Supreme Leader shot him.

I wondered, in my dream, what happened to a man in the afterlife whose last word was, “But …”

“The Mexicans have made the Supreme Leader nervous, today,” the remaining advisors told the cleanup crew as they left his office.

The Supreme Leader got on the horn to the Americans.

“Did you send the Mexicans?” he demanded to know.

“We did not,” the Americans said.

“Well, they are rebuilding my country,” the Supreme Leader said. “Can’t you do something about that?”

“We don’t care if they are rebuilding your country,” the Americans said.

“This is an outrage,” the Supreme Leader thought. He called for his jet and his highly-armed yes men and flew south to meet the Mexicans.

“Why are you here rebuilding my country?” he asked the Mexican general.

“We aren’t exactly sure, to tell you the truth, Sire,” the general replied. “Do you mind?”

“You know that you cannot just cross other peoples’ borders and start repairing and maintaining, planting and harvesting,” the Supreme Leader shouted. “I could have you all shot or put in jail and tortured.”

“Senor!” the general said. “Please, not so loud. You will alarm the muchachos who are busy repairing and maintaining, planting and harvesting, washing dishes and performing la yarda. "

“But it doesn’t look right!” the Supreme Leaders said. “Where did you come from? Who told you to come here?”

“We came from Mexico,” the general said. “I have my orders.”

I don’t remember the rest of the dream.