Breathtaking! Philadelphia is the most beautiful city I’ve ever seen in my life.
Photo by G. Widman for GPTMC (http://twitpic.com/9lpls)
Philadelphia’s Parkway at dusk on Saturday, July 4th
Travel
The Daily Show in Iran
Jon Stewart puts things in perspective and sends his colleague Jason Jones to Iran!
The World Through the Eyes of a Solo Reporter
I usually write my reviews about books after I finish reading them, but this time I wanted to share my opinion with you before finishing it.
This time the book is about conflict all over the world: In the Hot Zone: One Man, One Year, Twenty Wars by solo journalist, Kevin Sites. Which one of us doesn’t remember the U.S. soldier’s image shooting an unarmed insurgent in a mosque in Fallujah during the 2004 Fallujah battle? It was Kevin Sites who shot that controversial footage.
I bought the book from Borders bookstore a few days ago after leafing through its pages. I have heard a lot about Sites, but never had the chance to read his reports. Along with the book, came the DVD documentary “A World of Conflict,” a must-see film that I watched last night.
We all know that our world is turning upside down with violence somewhere and economy collapse somewhere else. It is indeed a world of conflict which sometimes drives me to the question of whether the science-fiction movies we see about the destruction of earth would become true some day.
Watching the world’s conflicts, Sites came up with an idea, a one that led to an important project: covering twenty wars in one year.Sites’ first chapter of the book and the introductory part of the documentary was about the Fallujah mosque shooting and his time in Iraq. He describes how he was labeled as a traitor by those who don’t accept facts and who do not want to admit that war is ugly and that crimes happen from both fighting parties. The insurgent who was shot might deserve what had happened to him, but the way he was killed was, of course, against the ethics of fighting in war zones. It’s sad to see that those who sent Sites threatening letters and text messages do not understand that he was just doing his job and had not expressed in no way ever his own, personal opinion regarding what happened. He let the world judge and it did.
I see Sites as a good example of balanced, sincere and extremely honest journalism. His words and the video footages he took in the countries he covered had an imprint of humanity. Throughout his travels as a solo journalist in conflict zones, the sense of humanity in his dispatches and reports was strongly evident, having it covered away from politics. There was a scream of horror that he wanted to let the rest of the world hear.
There were stories from Afghanistan, Nepal, Lebanon, Sri Lanka, Congo, and other places in the world. Sites was successful in detailing in a summarized way what the cause of violence was and how it took its toll on the human beings there. The things that blew me up the most were the stories from the Congo, Lebanon and Afghanistan. In the documentary he interviews a woman called Marie (not her name, as he mentions in the book). She was raped several times in front of her husband by militiamen who killed her children before her eyes and then mutilated her husband’s body after killing him. The worst part was asking her to chew his cut flesh. “They use rape as a weapon of war,” she told Sites. “They have guns, but this is worse than the guns.” The entire interview in the documentary brought tears to my eyes.
His coverage of the Israel-Lebanon war in the summer of 2006 was noteworthy. He was there when Israel shelled entire buildings with civilians in them. The image of the woman weeping after their loved ones died and the image of the children covered with blood is unforgettable.
Reading the book now after watching the documentary makes me picture all those who were interviewed. Reading the words and comparing them to the people’s faces makes my heart ache. So much violence out there, so many wars, and so much pain and sorrow in the hearts and minds of people. Like Sites, I believe this violence aims to kill civilization and most importantly humanity. The worst part of all, in my opinion, is that there are people out there benefiting from all of this, encouraging more and more violence and causing the deaths and the suffering of millions of people across our cursed planet.
Flying Like a Sea Gull
This all began on a very long plane ride, from the East Coast to the West, when I was glued in my seat waiting to finally settle my feet on California’s land. I let the seatbelt surround my abdomen. The plane’s tiers started rolling. I laid back on my uncomfortable seat feeling the pressure in my ears as the plane made its way to the air. All of a sudden, I started having an eccentric feeling. I felt the day was September 11th and that I was flying from Boston to New York City. My heart started pounding as I recalled the TV images and voices of the people calling 911 on the plane as they were heading to their unforeseen destination. The plane started flying higher letting my heart beats increase like an arrow heading to its bull’s eye. On planes, I frequently thought of Iraq and all the beautiful memories I shared with my family and friends, but on that day my mind never gave up the idea of being in the shoes of those whose lives were about to be terminated on a plane.
Although the plane was flying higher, my mind couldn’t but recall hearing the sound of the flight attendant talking to the dispatcher. “Oh my God! We are flying low. Oh my God! Very low very low. Oh my God Oh my Go…” silence followed. When I heard the real voice of this flight attendant vanishing before finishing the word “God” on a History Channel documentary, I kept thinking what if I were there? I never stopped thinking about that attack which changed the entire world since it happened.
To avoid this baroque feeling that followed me like a beastly predator, I took out “Snow”, the book I brought with me to read on the plane. Fortunately, the beautiful writing style and the engaging narrative of Orhan Pamuk made me forget about that bizarre feeling I had. I kept reading constantly until I let my eyes beg me to sleep where my mind went back home with a going-back-home dream.
When I left Washington DC, the weather was burning and the humidity felt like a soldier covering his detainee’s head with a plastic bag preventing him from breathing cool air. Allergies was my companion. I had to go to a CVS pharmacy earlier to get a day medicine. However and for my good luck, the weather in Orange County where we flew to was great. A little cloudy, but very nice with temperature not higher than 70 degrees during the day which stopped my nose from sneezing without taking a pill of the allergy medicine I have bought earlier.
Orange County was such a magnificent place to visit. It was a very good introduction for me to see the West Coast. Two of my friends and I flew from Washington DC to attend a wedding of one of our best friends whose tremendous support of me was a milestone in my way of the Writing field.
After I had lunch with my friend the groom at Saint Regis hotel, I returned to my hotel in Dana Point. I changed and quickly ran to the Doheney Beach by myself. The sight of the ocean in front of me with people lined up along the shore like a necklace surrounding the neck of a beautiful lady took my breath away. I sat on top of a huge rock and let my heart and soul fly with the sea gulls above the huge tent-like waves. The cool breeze chilled my entire spine and reminded me with a similar sight I and most Iraqis used to enjoy before the war. Habbaniya resort was one of Iraq’s major resorts with its artificial lake, five-star hotel, along-shore-villas, night clubs, swimming pools, and amusement park. Recalling all these sights, I felt a shiver followed by a sigh and a hope that one day things there return to be as good as they used to be.
I left the rock and started walking towards the ocean. As I went closer, I felt bittersweet happiness. I was happy with enjoying the sight peacefully, but at the same time I felt the survivor guilt that always reminds me with my family and friends and their daily ordeal. My feet were walking me, letting the ocean’s water cuddle them as they dig their way on the wet sand, stepping on empty oyster shells. I felt I could walk there forever, maybe until the last breath in my lungs which have just abandoned tobacco. However, I didn’t think of committing suicide or anything crazy. Our existence is an eye blink. Why, then, should a man chase down his life? I stared at the wave coming towards me as fast as a mother running towards her son after twenty years of separation. Even though it was huge, I felt it was peaceful. The sound of the gulls and the waves hugging each other towards the shore was the most halcyon sight I’ve ever loved.
At the wedding, big shot journalists, writers, publishers, and book agents were in the top of the list of the invited people. Talking with them about my future plans was something that I’ve never expected to happen one day. I don’t even recall I had such dreams. Though the war had its cost on us, it still left one road open for lucky people like me. I talked about my future writing plans and the Ph.D. degree that I want to pursue after the Master’s. I was encouraged a lot when big writers offered to help me read and perhaps publish some of the future bulky writing projects.
After the JFK Airport breaking news was broadcasted on all America’s new TV networks, I realized why I had a weird feeling at the plane on my way to California. I am not a spiritual person, but when I feel uncomfortable I know that there must be something wrong. I tracked the news as they came out on TV with the live broadcast of news conferences and all the details about the planners of the foiled terrorist attack which had it happen, it might have killed thousands of innocent people, not only Americans but many other people from different nationalities that happened to be there.
I wasn’t surprised when I heard the news, but I was left with a feeling of disgust and anxiety even though I know that we-Muslim Arab young men- are being already monitored by America’s FBI and CIA. I expected that we would be annoyed at the airport by security. I wouldn’t mind, to be honest. I don’t blame them for doing so, but that does not mean it would not be annoying and sometimes degrading. But for the better safety of everyone traveling, I believe they have the right to do their best to secure the airports from any suspicious activity. In all cases, I decided not to spoil my beautiful vacation with overreacting. I had nothing to be afraid of.
Going back to DC, I flew from Santa Ana. At the airport, intensive security was very obvious. For my good luck, nothing happened to me. I checked in electronically, got my boarding pass and headed towards the security zone where I was searched like all people around me. As I boarded on the plane, I had a feeling of safety despite America’s the precarious feeling then. I didn’t feel the time fly by as I spent most of it reading on the plane getting half way through the almost five-hundred-page book I was reading.
After spending the night in DC with my friends, I left the city in the morning heading back to Philadelphia. I took the China Town bus, $15 better than $90 for the boring, slow and bad service of Amtrak. The way to Philly was amazing, passing by all the beautiful natural areas of Baltimore and Delaware. As we reached the outskirts of Philly, the shiny blue skyscrapers of the city craned my eyes. I had a great feeling of going back “home”. I don’t know if I could call Philly “home” yet, but I definitely had an amazing feeling of relief. No place replaces Baghdad, of course, but inside me, the City of Brotherly Love became an important part of my new life. It helped me survive, defeat fear, and go on in living joyfully in America’s ancient and most famous historical spot where democracy, freedom, and new life were born.
My Trip to the U.S.A. TREASURE OF BAGHDAD’S DIARY
December 30
It won’t be a long time for me to go back to Baghdad. I have a mixed feeling now. I am happy and sad. Many people warned me not to be upset for coming back because I’ve already known that I am going back. But I am a human being. I am supposed to have feelings and I just cannot hide these feelings. Today, it was very obvious that I was upset. J and J2 noticed that. They thought I am tensed because I have to see the White House and the U.S. capitol alone. That wasn’t the main reason. What made me upset is that I am going back. It’s hard to accept this but I am going back, no doubt. The question will be, am I going to be able to come back to the U.S. in the future? I live in Baghdad where I am exposed to danger in every single second in my life. I don’t know what my fate will be. I don’t know whether I am going to stay safe to come back to America and take my M.A. or not. I don’t know whether I would be able to tell my children and niece how great and beautiful America was. However, I miss my family and friends who are dying in every single minute and not many people feel of how they live. I wonder if there would be people living in Iraq from now on.
It was a good chance for me to walk. I needed to walk, just walk for hours. I needed to hear my parent’s voices. I called them and talked to them while I was walking. I needed to hear my mother’s lovely voice. I needed to hear my father’s bold voice. I needed them. I wish I could save them from the hell they live in now. I wish I could take them outside Iraq, away from car bombs and killings. I wish I could do something to stop what is happening in Iraq. I wish and I wish but I can do nothing.
I don’t know till when we have to be strong and endure what is happening? Till when we have to endure listening to the sounds of explosions and shootings? Till when we have to see dead people everyday? Till when we keep saying we are sad? Till when we have to live in a war zone? Till when we have see destruction?
I lost hope since the Shiites took power. I am a Shiite and I wish I weren’t. The Shiites who are governing us now are back to power. They won the elections and means there would be more killings and revenge. Yes, these Shiites were in exile and they are now killing and causing destruction to the country. They are killing and killing and neither the Americans nor the people are stopping them. Moreover, The foreign terrorists are destroying the country by doing what Talaban regime used to do in Afghanistan. This country is burning. Somebody should do something. Please, somebody should do something. I am helpless, just helpless.
There is a line in a famous Arabic poem that says, “The ones you are calling for are dead.” So there is no benefit from what I am saying here I guess.
Any way, I had a tour in Washington DC today. It’s just today I discovered how beautiful Washington is: The streets, the people, the buildings and the monuments. After I had my hair cut, J and J2 went to the photo studio to take pictures for J’s book advertisement. By myself depending on the map J drew, I made my way to see the White House and the US capitol. And here I was really in need of walking. I’ve quit smoking since last April, but just today, I wanted to smoke. I really needed the cigarette. But as usual, I am Iraqi for God’s sake, I can make it. And I did it. I did not smoke!
When I was walking, I was just thinking that am I lucky or what? I can’t understand this puzzle. The only thing I am confident and sure of is that without J’s help and encouragement, I wouldn’t see America in entire my life, without her sister’s help, I wouldn’t be able to go to the University and intend to apply, and without her family’s loveliness and hospitality, I wouldn’t have such a beautiful time in America.
While I was walking, I was thinking of the pictures I took in Boston, New York City, Philadelphia, DC, and the other states. I realized that I won’t be able to put them in any of the frames I bought here. I cannot even hang them in my own bedroom. I have relatives and friends who do not know that I am in America. I am afraid if I put them and one of them would see them. The problem is that I am afraid that if they discover that, they might say it to strangers by mistake and by that I would be gone because they would consider me a “Spy in the lands of the Infidels”. Oh God! I hate this feeling. I’ll have to bury these photos in my closet or under my bed. My beautiful time I spent in the US is going to be buried.
There were many people gathering in front of the White House and the U.S. Capitol. Despite the fact I am going to hide my pictures, I took more in front of Washington’s most famous places. It is hard to tell your family that you did not take a picture there because you were afraid somebody might see it.
After that, I took the subway to TJMaxx, in Friendship Heights where I had lunch at McDonald’s and bought the Friends collection for O.
I returned back home at 8 p.m. J was waiting for me and she was a little bit worried because I was late. Anyway, when I arrived J looked different. She was putting make up. She looked so beautiful. In Iraq, women like putting make up a lot. “Wow! Look at you! You look so Iraqi.” This was the first time she puts make up on her beautiful face and the reason was for the photos of her book’s advertisement. I took pictures for her to show to my family. My mother and sister asked her why she doesn’t put make up. I think the reason is that most American women do not like putting make up, unlike the Arab women and I think this has to do with history. I remember once I read an article in a newspaper about this subject that says the Arab women like the Sumerian, Babylonian, and Egyptian women used to put heavy make up and decorate themselves with heavy gold necklaces.
EAST AND WEST
After that, I prepared something very strange for people to have in America. It was Hookah. J has a Hookah and all its equipments from one of our colleagues in Baghdad.
To change my bad mood, I showed J how to make it. It was one of the best Hookahs I made. Then we took it near the fireplace. We chatted, took pictures and sang on Kadhum Al-Sahir’s CD. While I was downloading the photos on my laptop, J brought dinner. This time, dinner was sear food. J cooked lobster and crab. She made them really good but I can’t imagine myself eating them. I am not used to.
I really had fun. I was interested in smoking Hookah because I sat near the fireplace which is considered a western thing. Now, east meets with the west. This is how it should be.
After that, J went to her room to call her mother and I spent some time in sending my pictures to my family and friends who know I am here.
New Year’s Eve
December, 31 [to be updated]
This morning, I woke up late. I had my breakfast while I was watching the news on the CNN. On their news bulletin, they show how violence marked the New Year’s Eve in Baghdad and other cities. Nothing is changed and nothing would change. The coming year would not be different. Mark my word dudes!
Then, they showed how the US army is transferring an Iraqi baby, Noor, for medical treatment in Atlanta. “Baby Noor, a 3-month-old Iraqi girl in urgent need of medical attention to treat a potentially fatal birth defect, is to arrive in the United States where she will receive treatment.” The CNN reported. Noor will be transported by ambulance to Children’s Healthcare of Atlanta, the anchor said.
I was very delighted to see this. People in Iraq do not have an idea of how the US army is doing these things. The problem is most of the Arab media are biased and against the Americans in general. So they do not show this kind of programs to the Arabs. Instead, they broadcast programs hostile to the Americans which make the ignorant Arab people do not know how to distinguish between the American people and the American administration. And this is one of the hopeless things that I would never believe will change. It’s only the educated people understand this.
Then I checked my emails and checked if I received comments on my blog. I checked O’s blog as well and I found his new entry so miserable to the extent it brought tears to my eyes. He was alone, literally. None of his friends are there. I felt so bad. I wish I was there in that time.
New Year’s Eve for me is just a normal boring day. I’ve never felt happy in it. And why should I be happy? I’ve been waiting for years to see things better and nothing of this happened. There is a tradition among my family on this night. We turn off the lights and count from 12 to 1 till the hour becomes at midnight to start the New Year. After that, my mother distrubtes sweets and candy, a sign to start the year with sweet thing, hoping things would change. and of course, these are just superstitions which I don’t believe in. I’ve been doing this for many years and nothing is changed. Every year becomes worse than the one before. So I decided that I will never eat any sweet thing tonight because I am confident nothing would change. Huh! I spent last year’s Eve attending a funeral of one of my relatives.
J was very sick today. She had a cold. She is struggling to keep herself awake. We went out and bought some groceries. When we returned back, I made O call me. J and I talked to him for about an hour. He was bored and lying on his bed preparing to sleep. It was almost 9:30 p.m. there. His family, as most of the Iraqi families now, decided to not celebrate the New Year’s Eve.
The best way to spend the day was to watch a movie. I was going over J’s DVDs and I found a movie that I thought it might be nice to watch. Captain Corelli’s Mandolin, was the name of the movie.
In 1941, Italy allies with Germany and ruthlessly conquers the much weaker country of Greece. On a remote Greek island, an Italian artillery garrison is established to maintain order. One Italian officer, Captain Corelli, adopts an attitude of mutual co-existence with the Greeks and engages in such activities as music festivals and courting the daughter of a local doctor. In 1943, however, after Italy surrenders to the Allies and changes sides in the war, Captain Corelli must defend the Greek island against a German invasion.
[TO BE UPDATED]
Tonight is the New year’s Eve. I was invited by R, my former Baghdad Bureau Chief. I went to his dinner party. something personal bad happened to a friend of mine and I was about not to celebrate this night with anybody. Anyway, J convinced me to go and have fun there. I had fun there because all the people I met were friendly and have high sense of humor which I really needed at that night.
I wish I can express everything here, but I can’t.
Happy New Year!
My Trip to the U.S.A. Treasure of Baghdad’s diary
December 25, Christmas day
Before I came to the U.S.,
Hassan, O, J and I chatted about my trip the night we invited Hassan for dinner. “You will be in America during Christmas,” J said. I was so excited to the extent I kept the whole night thinking of this and imagining the streets and houses decorated with Christmas lights. I remember how happy I was at that time. Finally, I celebrated Christmas in America.Although I am far from my beloved family, I felt I am home. J’s family was like my family. We share a lot of things. J’s mother is so lovely and friendly. I never found a woman in her kindness and beautiful smile. I just now discovered where J got her smile from.
Since I arrived to their house, I had terrible cold. J and her mother were like my mother and sister. They made this cold disappear.
Last night I felt so tired and exhausted. However, I was very happy to be with J’s family in the church late at night. But what made me really tired is thinking of the situation in Iraq and how miserable life is becoming day after day. What hurt me is my family’s fear.
Anyway, I couldn’t go with J and her mother to the morning service as I was really tired. J said it’s fine and I don’t have to be there.
At 10 o’clock, I woke up, had my breakfast and checked my emails. My cold was getting worse and worse although I am having medicine to stop it. J and her mother arrived at about 11 o’clock.
In order to feel better, I had a hot shower. After that I dressed up to enjoy Christmas day. J, her mother, and I sat in the kitchen and started talking about how lovely our office in Baghdad used to be. J asked me to tell her mother the story of Little N, and the letter he wanted me to send to her when she was in America last year. We laughed for a long time.
J decided to make Turkey for lunch with different kinds of food. After she finished cooking, J, her mother, her brother and I took some Christmas photos next to the tree and the presents.
Shortly after that, J’s aunt and her husband arrived to spend Christmas in Decatur with her family.
J’s aunt is a lovely, nice, and calm woman whose smile never left her face, just like her sister, J’s mother. Her husband, Uncle E, reminds me with my uncle who looks like him and has the same friendly company.
J, her brother and I went to pick up their 94 years old grandmother from their aunt’s house. Then, we all went back home.
It was supposed that J2, P her husband, and A their cute son could not come to Decatur as J2 is pregnant and might not be able to endure the 2-hour flight and the 2 hour-drive after that. She told her mother that she “cannot come for Christmas”. When I was in Philadelphia, J and J2 decided to surprise their mother by having J2 and her son and husband celebrate Christmas.
On the way back home, J called her sister to see if they have arrive Decatur to surprise their mother. She found out they have arrived. So, both of the cars met near the house and parked in front of it quietly and carefully. We did not to make J’s mother discover the surprise easily.
I took the hand of their grandmother to help her on the stairs. Few moments later, J’s brother entered the house carrying A, J2’s son. “I found this kid in the garage Mom!” he said. She was shocked. Then J2 entered the house. Her mother froze in her place. “Oh my God!” she said hugging her daughter who came from a far distance to surprise her mother. She was very happy. I could tell from her eyes that were filled with happiness tears. Then, we told her the whole story.
Lunch was ready by that time. We all sat for lunch. J’s brother read the prayer while everybody held the hands of the other. For me, that was very moving specially when he mentioned me in his prayers thanking God for my presence there.
Time to distribute presents started shortly after lunch as J2’s son did not endure waiting more.
J and her brother distributed the presents and when they finished, we opened them. The moment we opened these presents reminded me with last year’s Christmas in our Baghdad Bureau. It was one of the most beautiful days in my life. Every one of the staff bought a Christmas present for J and our former bureau chief K. J did the same. On Christmas Eve, J, her mother and I flipped over the photos. Her mother was so happy to see how the staff loved her and how she considered each one of them as part of her family. There is no doubt that everybody knows the comedy “Everybody loves Raymond”, but now it’s time to say “Everybody loves J.”
After opening the presents, we went to J’s family most favorite tradition on Christmas day. We went to the Bowling club J’s family own. The club was closed but for the members of the whole family; aunts, uncles, cousins, and their sons and daughters. We spent some time there and returned back late at night.
December 26,
Today, we went to J’s brother’s new apartment. It was fascinating, big and comfortable then J’s aunt and her husband went back home. We then went to have dinner. This time we had pizza in one of the family’s favorite pizza restaurant, The Monical’s.
December 27,
Today we left Decatur to go to Chicago. Our flight back to Washington is at night. At noon, J2 and I went for shopping. this time I wasn’t buying things for me. I was shopping for my sister and mother.
When I returned back, J went to ship her Christmas presents through FedEx. By that time, I stayed in the yard in front of the house enjoying the nice weather. The tempreture was 52 degree F. the weather was just like I have in Baghdad in winter. I called my parents, chatted with them and then helped J2 in taking out their luggage and mine at the garage door to get ready to put it in the rented car they rented.
P, J2’s husband, drove the car. The trip took us about 3 hours. J and I took the train to our airport. Our flight was delayed 25 minutes. Finally, we arrived to Washington at 2 a.m.
It took us about 30 minutes to get our luggage and take the shuttle bus to the parking lot where J parked her car. J noticed that the fuel in her car has almost disappeared. We tried to find a gas station that is open at 2:30 a.m. Finally, we found one. But, when J was just turning on the engine, it did not work! “You must be kidding me!” J said. “Oh oh!” that was the last thing I ever expected. We tried and tried but in vain. There was a man responsible on the gas station. We went to him to ask for help. It looked like he wasn’t in the mood to help that day. He was even reluctant to turn on the microphone to talk to us through his closed windows.
Fortunately, there was a nearby Motel. J and I went there and booked two rooms for one night. By the time, I put my head on the pillow, it was 3:30 a.m.
December 28,J called me by phone to wake me up at 8:30 o’clock telling me that she went to the gas station and was able to turn on the engine by the help of some of the gas station workers. We checked out and went directly to her house. I looked terrible and the problem is that I was supposed to go to the newsroom to spend sometime with another editor in the paper who spent some time in Baghdad last summer. I took a very quick shower preceded by shaving my beard. Once again, I had another thing to do. My suit was in the bag. I need to iron the shirt and the trousers. Ah! Trust me. I did all these things in 40 minutes. Finally, I was ready for going to the paper. I did not believe that I am going to make it. But I made it.
J and I arrived a little bit late. I saw the Editor. He was very happy to see me. “Al Salamu Alaikum”, he said the moment he saw me. I was very happy to see him as well. He is one of the most favorite people I worked with.
Then, we had some coffee in the newspaper’s cafeteria. I told him about my trip to the US and how I am enjoying it and about getting the M.A. in writing. After that we returned back to the newsroom. D, the AME, was waiting for me. “I have an assignment for you B,” he said. I was excited. This is the first assignment I have in the newsroom.
I worked for some time and then the editor I mentioned above invited me for lunch. We had our lunch in a restaurant near the paper. On the way back, we passed by Starbucks. Heehee. Of course, I had my daily regular coffee. By the way, the editor I am talking about is like me, addicted to coffee.
We finished work, and then J and I left back home. We had dinner and relaxed.
Christmas Eve
My Trip to the USA… Treasure of Baghdad’s Diary
December 24
The first thing J and her family do in the morning of Christmas eve is going to the cemetery where her father and her other relatives were buried. This year, the Iraqi joined them. I heard a lot about J’s father who was a the model she and her sister were following beside their mother. I was excited to go to the cemetery and read “Al-Fatiha”, the Opening Chapter in the Holy Quran. Muslims read this chapter when they visit dead people’s graves in cemeteries.
This was the first time for me to go to a cemetery of Christians. I was impressed by the design of the cemetery and how people put flowers at the tombs. J and her mother put flowers on his tomb and then wished him a Merry Christmas.
After we left the cemetery, we went for another quick shopping for Christmas Eve and day. Then, we returned back home.
Today, I called my parents. They were very happy to hear my voice. “Are you sick?” my mother found out immediately. “How did you know? I’ve been talking to my dad for 20 minutes and he did not find out I am sick,” I told her. “I know through your voice.”
Anyway, I found out that there is something wrong going on there as well. “What is happening Mom? Anything happened?” I asked her. She hesitated for a second and then said, “It’s getting worse and worse here.”
I did not know what to say to her except asking her to be patient. “We’ve endured a lot Mom. Let’s endure more and more. There should be an end for this one day.” I wanted to make her feel happy but I couldn’t. The only thing i was able to do is to make her forget about the situation for 20 minutes telling her my adventures in America and how I am enjoying the holidays with J and her family.
After that, I logged on my Yahoo messenger and chatted with a friend of mine who lives in Baghdad. He does not know I am in America. He thinks I am in Amman. Literally, only few people know that I am in America. If many people knew this, I would be considered “a spy” visiting “the lands of the infidels”. And of course, I would be killed without any hesitation by the bastards. My friend told me that it is getting really dangerous and now he no longer trusts people he doesn’t know. “Killings and kidnappings increased after the elections in addition to the problems of the elections turn outs,” he said. He told me to stay in “Amman” for few months. I told him I cannot. I have work to do in Baghdad. “Are you crazy? You have to listen to me,” he said. I refused to listen to him and told him, “I cannot. I am coming back soon.”
After I talked to him I was upset for some time. I couldn’t even move from my bed where I was lying when I was chatting with him. I updated my blog for hours in order not to be sad on Christmas Eve. I am supposed to be happy today.
At 7:30 p.m., J, her mother, T, and I had dinner. J made the most delicious lasagna I’ve ever had. At 9, I took a shower, dressed up in my dark blue suit and blue tie. J, her mother and I took many pictures with the Christmas tree.
Then, all of us went to St. Paul’s Lutheran Church to attend the Christmas Eve Service. I was the only Iraqi and Muslim attending this service. However, I was welcomed by many people, including the pastor who thanked me for visiting the United States. When we were all singing the Hymn of Adoration, I loved the line that says, “Peace on earth, and mercy mild.” Within my heart I was praying and asking God to provide peace on Iraq. specially, these days.
At the end of the service, we lighted the candles. My eyes were full of tears hoping that one day Iraqis would live like normal people. I looked at the candle and the melting wax. I felt the candle was crying for me, crying for all Iraqis, crying for every child killed by a bomb, crying for every mother and father suffering in Iraq, crying for the whole nation. The candle was crying but it was lightened to give us hope and faith in God saying that God is always there. He is watching and He is the one who will bring peace on earth and peace on Iraq.
Merry Christmas.
My Trip to the U.S.A. Treasure of Baghdad’s Diary
December 20
Since I arrived the United States, I was invited once for dinner and that was in NYC when Joel Simon and his wife invited me dinner a week ago. Today, R, my former bureau chief invited me for dinner in his house in Washington DC.
I woke up at 9 o’clock, had breakfast and read the newspapers while J who was sick today got ready for today’s shopping. I decided not to go to the newsroom today as I have many things to do before going to Illinois where I am going to celebrate Christmas with J’s family.
In the newspaper, I read an article about a transit strike in New York City, the city that never sleeps. The strike came after failing to reach a deal with the Metropolitan Transportation Authority following days of bitter labor talks. Today, New York was thrown into chaos by the height of the morning rush hour.
This strike was supposed to take place on Friday. That is why I left New York City on Thursday. I did not want to be stuck there and miss my train to Philadelphia. If that happened, I would be very embarrassed as I was supposed to meet with the people at St. Joseph’s University.
After I dressed up, I turned on the TV set to watch the news. MSNBC was having a live broadcast of a session of Saddam’s trial. Saddam, as usual, was complaining. This time he said he was tortured! Ok, let’s suppose he was tortured. Now, did he forget what he did to the Iraqi people for 35 years? Did he forget how he made the people starving at the time he was giving Jordan electricity and oil for free? Did he forget how built his mansions on the Tigris while the government employee’s salary did not exceed a $1.5 per month? I just want to ask him stop COMPLAINING. At least leave some respect to the people for what is left in your life.
I was furious enough to the extent I turned off the TV and got ready to go out shopping. J and I dropped off S home and went shopping. It was almost midday. I suggested having breakfast. “You mean lunch,” said J. I laughed and said, “You are right.” We went to a Mexican restaurant. Since I arrived I had different kinds of food. The most favorite for me now is the Mexican.
After lunch and shopping, we returned back home. J’s house yard was full of leaves that have been falling since she was in Iraq. When she came back, she did not have time remove all of it. I offered help. She and I took the leave blower which I like a lot and swap the whole area surrounding the house. It took us about an hour and a half but if J did not have this blower, it would have taken us four hours at least.
J was invited to R’s dinner party as well but she couldn’t come as she had cold and she began to feel miserable specially after we swap the yard of the house. I had hot tea, checked emails, and took a shower. Then, J called for a taxi to take me to a barber shop near R’s house. when I arrived there, i tried to open the door but in vain it was locked. I saw people having their haircut inside. So I knocked. A Mexican man said, “sorry, we are closed.” I was shocked. I told him, “Listen, I am invited to a dinner party and I won’t to go there in this shape. You gotta help me. My hair doesn’t take that much of time.” one of his workers said she can do it. Finally, I had my haircut. After that, I walked to R’s house. it was freezing but while I was walking I found Starbucks coffee shop. Of course, I bought my regular coffee and walked to warm up.
At 7:25 p.m., I arrived to R’s house. I was the first of the guests. I found R cooking for the first time in my life. He was my boss in Baghdad and I never saw him cooking. “You can call me M now,” he said mentioning our former cook in Baghdad.
R, the friend is different than R the boss. I felt very comfortable with him this time. we are friends and colleagues. Although he has a high position in at the newspaper, Assistant Managing Editor, R looked very simple and friendly.
He gave me a glass of wine while we were chatting. I took a tour in house. it was the first time I see such a beautiful house after J’s house. I can say both of them have the same taste.
His house was decorated with Iraqi art and different art pieces from different countries. The house looked just like in the fancy magazines we always buy. A big painting by an Iraqi artist was hanged over the fireplace which looked so overwhelming. The dinning table was unbelievable furnished with a beautiful sheet, wine glasses, plates and a glass vase filled with a bouquet of beautiful white and red roses. The place was much amazing than I can describe.
Then four of R’s friends arrived. They were famous and brilliant journalists working in the same paper I am working in. one of those whom I really liked was D, who joined the paper since two years ago. She is considered one of the active and brilliant reporters of the paper. She was a reporter with the Associated Press for a long time and most of her reporting as a foreign correspondent was in Indonesia. She and I talked about a lot of stuff, including our office and our work in Baghdad.
R made wonderful dinner for us. After we finished he presented the desserts. An hour later, 11:30 p.m., we left.
I returned back home and prepared my luggage while J was sleeping. Tomorrow, we are going to Illinois.
December 21
It’s time to go to Illinois. J and I woke up early, prepared our luggage and went to the airport. The first stop was Chicago.
We were on board of South West airlines. The airplane was very warm to the extent that I felt very hot. J felt the same.
When we arrived the airport in Chicago, we went to the baggage claim to get our luggage. I got my bag but unfortunately J’s bag was missing. She went to the office of the baggage claim. They checked and told her they did not find it yet. We were shocked because all her Christmas presents were in it. We were so sad but we couldn’t do anything except going to the train station to get the train.
At the train station, J and I had lunch. I had Pizza from Pizza Hut and J had vegetarian soup. It was very cold. This morning, the CNN said the temperature in Chicago is 27 degree F. our next stop was Decatur, a small city where J grew up. We went there to celebrate Christmas among her family.
At the train station, J’s mother and brother were waiting for us. That was the first time I see them in person. However, I knew them for along time ago. Then, the four of us went to have dinner as it was almost 7:30 in the afternoon. Then, we went to their house after a whole day trip from Washington DC to Decatur.
December 22
For the first time since I arrived the states, I had cold. But it wasn’t too bad. It was just cold. J, her mother, and I spent most of the day shopping for Christmas. We had fun a lot. J’s mother is just like my mother, a woman full of life and happiness. Maybe you will say how come your mother is full of happiness while she lives in Iraq? I will say, she is unlike the other women. She is just full of life. I found many things in J’s mother in my mother. Well, the first thing is that both of them are teachers.
December 23
J hadn’t seen her grandmother for along time. Today, she and I visited her. The grandmother is her mid 90s. We went to her house, had breakfast with her and then went to an electronic store to buy a new digital camera for me. The one I use is Chinese and I didn’t like it a lot. so, I decided to buy a new and better camera. The one I bought was Canon with 4 Mega pixel.
J hadn’t seen her grandmother for along time. Today, she and I visited her. The grandmother is her mid 90s. We went to her house, had breakfast with her and then went to an electronic store to buy a new digital camera for me. The one I use is Chinese and I didn’t like it a lot. so, I decided to buy a new and better camera. The one I bought was Canon with 4 Mega pixel.
After that, we returned back home, had lunch and then J went to continue her shopping. I did not feel well because the cold was killing me. So, I preferred to stay at home, take some rest and take a shower to get ready for today’s dinner which was supposed to be in a Chinese restaurant in the city.
At 6 p.m., we went to pick up J’s grandmother and met with T, J’s brother, at the restaurant. The restaurant was great. To e frank, I was shocked from the idea of being in a Chinese restaurant first. I thought that all I am going to find there are dogs and cats cooked and hanged.
This restaurant gave me a different impression. At the buffet, I was able to find all what I wanted but in a Chinese flavor. While we were picking up different kinds of food, J told me, “Take this.” I asked her, “What is this?” She replied, “FROG LEG”. I was shocked. I said. “What?!! You want me to eat a frog leg. Yeeeekh”.
When we returned back to the table, J’s dish was full of sea food. “Try this,” she said. I tried it and I found it good. “what is this?” she said “Crab”. Then I told her, “you mean this little thing that moves like this?” and I moved my fingers like a crab walking on the sand. She said yes and I was shocked again. My problem is that we do not eat these kinds of food at all and we always consider them as disgusting, no offense of course.
Anyway, I had my own special dish. After we finished dinner, we took J’s grandmother to her house. Before she descended off the car, she turned her face to me and said, “I was glad to meet you. If you stay with us, I would teach the way of life.” I was surprised. But I think she was right. She is an old woman who is 94. she lives in the world since along time ago and I am sure her life was full of adventures and experiences.
Before we returned back home, we made a quick stop at Mall then returned back home. J and I put on the Christmas hats and J’s mother turned on the audio player and put some classic Christmas songs. J and her mother looked so beautiful. They sat next to each other singing and wrapping presents. I joined them and wrapped the Christmas presents I brought with me from Iraq.
My Trip to the U.S.A. Treasure of Baghdad’s Diary
December 14
This is my last night in New York City. I am very sad to leave. It became one of the things that I really liked. The buildings, the people, the streets, and everything were amazing. It’s full of life. I got this impression about New York when I was in Baghdad. O told me it’s hilarious and J said “you are going to have so much fun in it”.
At 7 p.m., Ivan and I went to Time Square. I wanted to see it for the last time because I might not be able to see it once again. Who knows what would happen? Am I going to stay alive or am I going to be dead? I am not pessimistic in what I am saying here. It’s a matter of thinking and expectations.
Anyway, my main aim to go to Time Square was to make my family see how amazing it is through the video I took. After that we met with Heidi and had another tour, but now it was in the biggest toys store in America, Toys R us. To be frank with you, I was amazed of this store. So what about the children? I immediately remembered my beautiful 3-months old niece whom I miss a lot. I bought a small cat toy for her and Heidi suggested I buy a small funny frog. I bought them and made Ivan film that. It was funny, so funny.
This is last time I spent with Heidi who is off work tomorrow. She gave me a nice present which was an audio CD of the original motion pictures soundtrack of Beyond the Sea. I like it a lot, listened to all of it’s songs and liked the fourth song in it, Simple Song of Freedom.
Today, I was also invited for dinner in Joel Simon’s house. I arrived 30 minutes late. I was very embarrassed for being late. Joel has a nice house, looks stylish and comfortable.
Before I arrived to their house, he has already ordered some Moroccan food called Tajeen. It looked like my mother’s Iraqi food. It was very delicious. While we were eating, we talked about me, my family, the way we live in Iraq, the kinds of food we have and how I work and live and stay alive in Baghdad in the middle of the chaotic situation the country is going through.
I couldn’t see his cute daughters this time. They were sleeping as they have school the next day. I wished I could film them and show my family how cute they are. Because it was freezing outside, Joel offered to drive me to the hotel.
I really enjoyed the dinner and really felt how nice Joel and his family are.
December 15, 2005
Today I am leaving to Philadelphia to meet J’s sister and her family. I am going to call her J2 in my posts from now on. I am very much excited to see them but at the same time, I am so sad I am leaving the CPJ. I liked this office a lot. I liked the staff and everyone in it. They were very friendly and helpful. They considered me one of them. I liked the way they work and how much effort they do to help journalists in allover the world.
Yesterday, I was invited to give a speech about my experience as an Iraqi reporter covering news in Iraq. I was very excited. Sitting in the middle, I started the speech of how I as an Iraqi reporter working for a western newspaper mange my work in one of the most dangerous places in the world now. Everyone was silent. I was able to see how amazed they were. I think they found my stories as strange as the stories of the Arabian Nights.
This morning, I was really reluctant to take the subway carrying my entire luggage with me. I stopped the first taxicab I saw in the street. He took me from Brooklyn to Manhattan where the CPJ office is.
The moment I arrived, O called me. I was very excited to hear his voice because I miss him a lot. I talked to him for more than half an hour and then I called my parents to see if they voted or not. My father picked up the phone. He said he and my mother voted today. His voice was very confident and he was laughing in the phone out of happiness. I was able to hear my mother who was telling him that she misses me. “I miss you a lot mom,” I said to my father to pass to her.
After that, I checked the newspapers and blogs covering the elections in Iraq. Then, Ivan said if I feel hungry and if we can go to grab some lunch. Maria, a Columbian researcher at the CPJ joined us. “What do you feel?” she asked. My answer came directly, “Sad”. I felt sad because I really liked the staff at the CPJ and I did not spend longer time as I have many other things to do while I am here in the States.
We returned back and then all the staff gathered in the lunch room where we were having lunch. Joel Simon thanked me for the time I spent with them and then he gave me a book as a present. I was really impressed. It was “Leaves of Grass” of Walt Whitman, my favorite American poet. The book was signed by all the staff who wished me luck in my career. Then Judy suggested giving me one of the T-shirts with the CPJ logo on it. “Thank you, this will protect me in Baghdad!” I said told them and they all laughed.
“My desk would be empty,” I told Ivan while we were waiting for my train to arrive. Ivan nodded his head.
I am definitely going to miss Joel Companga’s everyday Iraqi Arabic greeting to me like “Shako Mako” [Hey,what’s up?], I’ll miss Alexis’s smile and addiction to work, I’ll miss Kristine’s calmness and delicate smile, I’ll miss Alex’s nice personality and friendship whose knowledge of wars and violence exceeded all the limits, I’ll miss Joel Simon the friend and the brother, I’ll miss Judy’s motherly talk and smile, I’ll miss Ivan’s unbelievable coolness every time, I’ll miss Maria who so quickly became the friend of everybody, I’ll miss Nina’s loud and beautiful smile. I’ll miss all of them and everything in them.
My train arrived at 3 p.m. Ivan helped me in carrying one of the bags I was carrying with me. Then, time to say Goodbye came. I don’t know how I am going to be away from these guys, specially Ivan who became one of my best friends. They will be always in my mind.
I arrived Philadelphia at 5 p.m. and looked for P and A. P is J2’s husband and A is their 3 and half years-old son. They were supposed to meet me at the train station. I saw them and waved to them. That was the very first time, I see both of them. I was excited and happy. We went out to the car. It was raining. Then, we went to their house to put my luggage there and grab some dinner. My first impression about P is that he is a kind of educated man who seems to have a lot of information about most of the things around the world. He’s been to many countries for work and tourism and I think this enriched his knowledge in many countries culture. A, his son who is only three years and a half looked so cute and smart. The moment I entered the house, I saw him collecting his toys which he likes. He was the first child I see smart enough to memorize all the names of his toys.
P, A, and I went out walking to a nearby restaurant to have dinner. It was still raining but we were well covered. The neighborhood was just amazing. The houses looked like those we see in movies, all made of wood decorated by Christmas with gardens covered with snow that increased their beautiful sight.
VICTORY IS AHEAD
Although I am in America, far away from my beloved country, my heart is still there. All my passion and love is dedicated to the people who challenged danger to record the first real democracy in the history of Iraq. I am proud of you Iraqis. I am proud of your hope, optimism and patience. I am proud of every man and woman who went out to vote. I am proud of those stepped out of their houses to join their neighbors and relatives to vote.
I am proud that now Iraqis are really united and all of them went to vote, unlike what happened in the last elections. Sunnis, Shiites, Christians, Kurds, Arabs, Sabians, and Yazidis became all like one hand. They became the dagger that stabbed terrorism. I am proud of police and army and the electoral commission workers. Thank you thank you thank you. I wish there was another word that I can thank you with. “Thank you” is so little compared to your bravery.
Go to hell, Zarqawi. Go to hell Osama. Iraqis are brave and will never be afraid of your hatred. They are the ones who are going to defeat you and make the whole world gets rid of you and your henchmen.
The first thing I did this morning was I turned on the TV on the CNN to watch how the elections went in Iraq. A voting woman was speaking in English said, “We are celebrating the real democracy in Iraq.” she looked very happy and excited. I could tell how happy she was. Tears filled my eyes and the National Anthem came in my mind to increase these tears that were falling out of happiness.
My homeland….
Glory, beauty, sublimity, and magnificence in your hills
Life, safety, happiness, and hope in your air
Will I see you rise, safe, flourished, profitable, and dignified?
Will I see you rise reaching the Simak (a name of a specific start), my homeland?
My homeland.. The youth will not give up. Their goal is to achieve independence,
or they die
We don’t fear death and will not be slaves to the enemy
We don’t not want an everlasting humiliation and a miserable lifeWe don’t want that.
Instead, we will restore our immortal glory
My homeland….Sword and the pen, not words and conflicts, are our symbols
Our glory, vows, and sense of responsibility are our motivations
Our strength is an honorable aim and a waving flag
Bless you in your sublimity, defeating your enemies
My homeland….
Praise be to you Iraqis. Praise be to you God. Victory is ahead. Go for it.
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