February 4th 1:30AM

Rawalpindi—Tonight I had the rare opportunity to witness something few westerners ever have—martyrdom. The seminal event in Shia history is the martyrdom in 680 CE of Ali's son Hussein, who led an uprising against the "illegitimate" caliph (72 of Hussein's followers were killed as well). For the Shia, Hussein came to symbolize resistance to tyranny. In this event Shi'a Muslims strike their chests during the Remembrance of Muharram until they bloody themselves. These events are often targets of anti-Shi’a sentiment. For us, we had to take extra measures of safety. We were joined by a former Captain of the Pakistani Army and now a security specialist to the location of the event, which was kept secret until the last minute. Checkpoints where placed at every entrance to the small street where gunmen stood atop the buildings. As we entered the area, hundreds of men filled the tiny street, removing their shirts as they joined the parade of men of all ages who beat their chests in a rhythmic thump that echoed through the night. Along with these men were several hundred others who sang religious songs and chants as they marched down the crowded street. Even children took part in this event, which brought many to tears, both in pain and in sorrow for the death of martyred Hussein. At times the crowd was so large that movement was impossible and often I was even hit by the flailing arms. I tried to find a spot along the wall, able to work the little light there was to make an image, with both feet straddling the sewage drain along the edge of the street and the rows of homes. The smell of sweat, blood, and sewage permeated the night. After about an hour, the event ended as they reached the end of the street. We were met by the village leader who invited us back to his home for tea and food, we reluctantly agreed, being tired and full from tea and dinner at the Captain’s home. In the leaders home several other men joined us as we sat around and discussed the events of the day, thanking everyone for letting us be a part of it. The event and the religious conviction of these men moved me. I’ve never seen anyone take their religion so far. These men are extremists in every definition of the word, the difference between them and other extremists is the only violence they resort to in on themselves. After leaving the ceremony we stopped back at the site of Benazir’s assassination. At night the site took on a whole new life. It was somber and quiet. Only a few people where there. There were candles lit near the flowers, and one man who has been staying there was in his bed at the site. This country continues to amaze and mystify me.