A Pakistani American Muslim in search of his identity

By Martha Thomsen and ChristianWeek | April 27, 2010

Children of Dust is the memoir of a young Pakistani American Muslim who lives the first 30 years of his life under five different names. He's a man in search of his identity, his place in a complex world—a man in process.

The story begins in Lahore, Pakistan, when, at seven, Eteraz learns the meaning of his name, Abir ul Islam: Perfume of Islam. He also learns of his father's covenant with Allah that if his firstborn were a son he would be raised to be a leader and servant of Islam.

When the family's apartment is threatened with demolition, they knot their belongings in bed sheets and head for the desert where his father's family is from and Eteraz is enrolled in a madrassa. When he turns 10, U.S. immigration papers come through, and the family sells everything and heads for America.

As an adolescent, Eteraz desperately wants to be "American." A thoughtful young man, he wrestles with many puzzling contradictions, including how to be true to his Muslim values in a sex-oriented society. Believing his solution is to find a devoted Muslim wife in Pakistan, he journeys there, only to face disappointment and disillusionment, as well as suspicion that he is a CIA agent.

"Now, neither American nor fully Pakistani," he writes. "We called ourselves Muslims and hoped that religion was enough to identify us in a world full of nations." Years later in Kuwait, singing devotional songs with migrant Pakistani labourers, Eteraz finally feels no longer alone.

From fundamentalist to postmodernist to reformer, Eteraz is always a Muslim. He writes very candidly, exposing his questions, deceptions, longings and frustrations. He is a gifted writer, intelligent and erudite. A keen student of his faith, he weaves Islamic history and teachings into his own narrative. Though I didn't appreciate his graphic descriptions of sexual fantasies and actions, he was honest enough about his own un-Islamic behaviour as a significant part of his struggle.

"Choosing to listen to another's story allows us to relate to who they really are, not who we think they are," writes Jonathan Fuller (Cross Currents, 2005.) I'm glad I listened to Eteraz's story. Not only do I better understand some of the conflicts and complexities Muslims living here must face here in the West; I also see Eteraz as a person still in process, a man who is still searching to belong.