posting from an iraqi woman living and working in baghdad: read this if you want to get a feel for the people:: including the comments

neurotic Iraqi wife

IRAQ with all its factions is NOT UNITED. Lets not fool ourselves nor the world,OK…This Kurdish/turkish issue is soley a Kurdish issue. THEY HAVE TO DEAL WITH IT. Yes, you know why???Because the Kurds never liked us Arabs. NEVER. Im sorry if I’m offending anyone, but the truth has to be said. The hatred that the Kurds have against us, is far more than the hatred of this Sunni/Shia dilemma. YES. I don’t give a damn shit anymore. Let’s not pretend that everyone is so lovey dovey. The Kurds always wanted their independence from the Arabs, ALWAYS.Go to any Kurdish forum, and see the hatred towards the arabs. Man they tear us apart all the time. They think they are superior to us…Lol, makes me laugh. One day, they want everything, Kirkuk, the North, the Oil, and the next day, they cry for help. I can’t stand such double faced people. I have very good friends that are Kurdish, and although we are civil to each other, I’ve had alot of arguements about the situation in Iraq. And they say it out loud, we want to be independent, we want our own nation. Well, FINE THEN HAVE YOUR OWN NATION, but Kirkuk stays. What do you say to that?

With the Turkish offensive, which I’m totally against, I think the Kurds are better equipped to deal with that themselves. We have our own “internal” problems that we need to solve. For what have THEY done for us? The peshmerga’s came to assist supposedly in this security plan because again supposedly they are a neutral force, but infact they caused havoc. Their loyalty was never with Iraq as a nation. NEVER. Their loyalty was always with their own people, the Kurdish people. Im sure IM gonna get nasty comments, but I dont give a damn shit anymore. Someone has to say it. Someone has to say the truth. I’m sure there are many who agree with me though.

But I have to admit, putting all that aside, I have alot of respect for the Kurds. Yes I do for the reasons I’m about to give. One, they managed to put aside all their differences and unite against the enemy. Something, we Iraqi arabs couldnt even TRY to do. So I raise my hat to them. Second, they know exactly what they want and how to achieve it. Unlike us, everyone is pulling from all directions. The Kurds are smart people, very business like. They have ambitions and they are well on their way to achieve them. As for us, our ambitions are based on religeous needs. One group wants a Mulla type nation, and another group wants a stone age era with strict Islamic laws. Oh and lets not forget the other group who just doesnt want a nation full stop but instead a land turned morgue filled with Iraqi corpses.

The Kurds have their own flags, their own language, their own traditions. They are a completely separate people than us. I mean can you believe the fact that an Iraqi Arab is NOT ALLOWED to enter their border unless a kurd sponsors him??? Did you know that? That’s why, all those displaced Iraqis who were driven from their homes because of the violence didn’t go to the North. Only the ones who had contacts managed but the rest were forced to leave the country and seek shelter in Syria, Jordan etc..How sad is that. How sad, that you cant even seek shelter in your own country!!!

I’m gonna leave it at that. I may be biased for I’m an Iraqi. A true Iraqi. I have no hidden agenda. I have no need for power. I hope that the Iraqi Arabs will come to their senses once and for all and learn from the Kurdish people. Learn how to Unite. How to Unite and take care of their own people. Again I say, let’s not fool ourselves anymore. Iraq has become a divided nation. Maybe, maybe dividing it is the best solution. The best solution for now. I say these words with great pain, but the Good Iraq is long gone. My parent’s Iraq is no more. What we have now is the leftovers…The leftovers of all these fatal wars and selfish narcissistic leaders. Iraq, that once delicious cake on a diamond studded plate which everyone wanted a piece from, is now nothing but crumbs. Bitter Tiny Iraqi Crumbs…

October 14, 2007

My Eid Dream…

Its Eid, yaaaaaaaay. I woke up on Friday and decided to hell with work. Its Eid, and Im gonna celebrate it my way. The Iraqi way. I took a shower, slipped on a new pair of jeans, a crisp blue shirt and my new acquired high heels. I took HUBBY’s hand in mine, borrowed a car from one of my coworkers that live in the GZ and drove right past the checkpoints. What a liberating feeling. My heart was pounding with excitement. I havent seen Baghdad, the real Baghdad in such a long time. Families were walking with their children and everyone seemed so cheerful. It was a major shock to my eyes. I had the urge of rubbing it so hard so as to make sure I aint dreaming and what Im seeing is infact real.

Last year, the last day before we thought we were leaving Baghdad for good, W took us to Saysaban, a beautiful restaurant in Jadriyah, a place that you will never believe is infact in a war torn country. Hence we decided it was the perfect place to celebrate Eid in. We parked the car and walked towards the gate. Waiters in white crisp shirts and black vests welcomed us, each with a smile that lit up the whole place. “Eid Mubarak” they said happily.”Welcome, please come in, come in” and they ushered us towards a corner table thats set just for two.

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It was the perfect table with “real” plates and cutlery. Something I havent seen in over a few months now. The view from where we were sitting was perfect, I couldnt ask for a better view. The place was overwhelmingly full. Full of people. Happy people. Kids running around with their new Eid clothes and shining shoes, laughing and playing in the immaculately maintained garden. Red, white, green and black balloons hanging from every tree branch, making up a beautiful mosaic of our flag, the Iraqi flag. You can hear birds chirping alongside the children’s laughter. And if you concentrate hard enough, you would realise that the birds are laughing too. Laughing with those beautiful innocent kids.

A young waiter whose name was Khalid, came by to take our order. I asked for a menu, which he happily provided. It was a one pager covered in a plastic laminate cover. I didnt know what to have. Hummus? Imtabbal? Kubba? Cheese and basil? Lahm ib 3ajeen? Mixed grill (wth no chicken) or rice and white beans sauce. Hmmm. I was seriously confused. So I said “Khalid, Im hungry, very hungry, can I have bits and pieces of everything?”. Khalid laughed and so did HUBBY. HUBBY then interrupted and said “No Khalid, no, please dont listen to her, she keeps doing this to me everytime we go out to eat, she orders alot, but only eats like a bird then Im forced to finish the whole thing and look what happened to me” HUBBY pointed at his belly. I giggled, for thats true. My eyes are always more hungry than my tummy. So I said, Ok Khalid, just get us one plate of hummus (mashed chikpeas w/garlic), another of imtabbal (mashed aubergines w/ garlic), definitely fattoush (mixed salad with croutons) and a plate of mixed grill with no chicken. Oh and dont forget the samoon (Iraqi bread). I want piping hot samoon. Khalid walked off with our order probably thinking what a nutso this lady is.

The sweet apple aroma of the hubbly bubbly was lingering all around us, so HUBBY decided to have one too. As for me, I was content with my cigarettes and my sweet Iraqi tea. HUBBY reached out, trying to hold my hand, as he always does when we are out. I pulled it back, hey, we cant do that here. Its not right. Youre my wife he said angrily, I can do whatever I like. No HUBBY, dont embarrass me please. Big mistake. For HUBBY always tries to tease me and so he turned towards me and kissed me right there and then. OMG. I could feel my face turning as red as the balloon over my head. HUBBYYYYYYYYY, I shouted in his ears . God, they probably think Im one of those bad girls. HUBBY laughed, and kissed me again, this time on my forehead.
Khalid and another guy came around carrying a huge tray with our order. I whispered to HUBBY “I hope they didnt see that” HUBBY shrugged his shoulders and said and so what if they did, YOU ARE MY WIFE “. I laughed for I cant beat that, can I now. Everything looked so yummy, especially the samoon and the fattoush. Surprisingly enough, I ate everything on that tray. Everything. HUBBY couldnt believe his eyes. Nor could I. I guess I needed real food. Real Iraqi food.

After having the last piece of samoon I just sat there with a smile that made me look so stupid, happy stupid. For it was just surreal. Surreal to be sitting in a restaurant in the middle of Baghdad in 2007. A young girl in pink polka dots dress and matching shoes was running around and then all of a sudden she stood right next to my chair. She kept staring at me and laughing. I laughed back, made faces at her which made her giggle even more. “Whats your name?” I asked. “Ahlam” she said. “My name is Ahlam (dreams in English)”. “Happy Eid Ahlam” I said. “Happy Eid to you too” She laughed in what was the most angelic voice Ive ever heard then she disappeared. Ahlam disappeared and so did my dreams.

They say its good to dream once in awhile. Yes unfortuantely it was all a dream. A Eid Dream…My Eid Dream…

October 07, 2007

Live Life…

Yesterday, as I was engrossed in one of my reports, I decided to take a break and check for any new news headlines. I jumped off of my seat when I read the headline “Victory for those who risked lives for Britain”. I immediately clicked on the link and wowwwww, the happiness and joy I felt was indescribable. Finally, Finally Britain decided to help those who risked their lives for them. It very much uplifted my mood, since again, my mood seemed to match the hazy sky.

Today, I decided to visit the link again, read comments and see what others thought about the excellent move. A very very bad decision. Reading some of the comments infuriated me and took me down the pits again. Look at some of these comments that sent my blood boiling to such a degree, I wish I coulda slapped the commentators:

A few thousand interpreters plus wives and families, extended families, other relatives coming over later in accordance with British law, spouses imported over the next few generations – so what are we talking, another million muslims in the country by 2050? Is anyone actually calculating the future racial and religious balance in this country? What I’m starting to think about all the liberal extremists who, in pre-war generations did little more than write poetry and cry, but who have been allowed to dominate all spheres of influence in the hysterical anti-fascist climate of post-war Europe, is this: I think, unconsciously, they have some perverse psycho-sexual desire to be dominated, overpowered and – politically and culturally, at least – shafted.
Eugene, Chester , England
And another Bastard:

This i shocking. I was in Iraq. Don’t kid yourself that the interpreters are some kind of brave hero risking their lives for democracy and a better Iraq etc. They wanted money and they got it. Many of them were handsomely paid for little work and more than a few were “playing for the other side”. We have just opened the gates for more people to sponge from our welfare system
Degsy, aberdeen,

Hence, I decided to answer back on my blog. To all those who oppose the move I tell you:

It should be a PLEASURE for you people to host those who helped and risked their own lives for your soldiers’ well being IN YOUR COUNTRY. Those Iraqis you claim that are after your so called welfare system, should be praised and honoured. Without them, your troops wouldn’t have survived!!! Do you know how many lives were lost because of the help they gave you???Do you know how many children where orphaned and wives widowed???Shame on you. You are nothing but ignorant selfish full of hatred racists. Ughhhh, people like you just make me wanna scream!!!

Those Iraqis you don’t want, are not coming to your country because they woke up one day and decided hey, what the heck I wanna leave everything behind and go to England. Aha yup you are right, they wanna leave their homes, their family, their friends because they just love the weather and the 25 pounds of the so called welfare they will be getting. Oh yessss definitely, that’s exactly what they wanted to do. What a load of bull…

Why is it that Iraqis are viewed worthless??? Why is YOUR BLOOD more important THAN THEIRS??? WHY ARE YOUR LIVES MORE PRECIOUS THAN THEIRS???WHY??? One of the main reasons I liked and enjoyed living in London is the multicultural society and the cosmopolitan atmosphere. I used to think to myself, wowww, look at the freedom of speech everyone has, especially the few times I visited speakers corner on Sundays. I loved London, and although many of the Brits seemed stiff at first, when I got to know them, I made real friends. I know that racism is everywhere, but when it comes to taint my own people, NO, I will not tolerate it. I will never tolerate it. EVER…

I can even bet on it, the minute things become better here, they will come back to their country. You know why???Beacuse they Love Iraq. They always will…Its in our blood, whether we want it or not. Its engraved in our hearts. Whether we want it or not.

I am so appalled I cant even go on writing this post because of the anger Im in right now…Maybe later I will be able to continue…But for now, those people that you don’t want in your country, those people, my people, have every right to breathe. Every right to have hope. And most of all, they have every right to LIVE. Live Life…

October 02, 2007

Another Decorative Number…

A week ago, Dr A disappeared for almost two days. I got worried sick. He usually calls in to tell me if he is coming to work or not, he also calls me if he knows he will be late to work. But Last week, no calls from Dr A. I tried calling him on the mobile but all I got was that damned automated message of “sorry, the mobile youre calling is either switched off or outside the coverage area, please try again later”. Ughhh….I kept trying but to no avail. The next day I waited abit and still no Dr A. Again his mobile was switched off. By late afternoon, I was ready to go and speak to the security in charge when all of a sudden a yellow faced Dr A appeared.

Where were you I asked frantically, you got us worried. What happened? He shook his head and said believe me you don’t wanna know. My colleague and I looked at each other with the Uhoh look. Cmon we can handle it, tell us. Apparantely, as Dr A was ready to leave his neighbourhood on his way to work, as he reached the corner of his street, he passed by two dead bodies. One of an old man and another a boy of 5 or 6 years of age. Both shot in the head, and their faces, or maybe I should say what remained of their faces consisted of fleshy pulp barely hanging from the muscles of their necks. Their blood was just everywhere. Dr A, although used to these daily horror scenes in his neighbourhood turned back and decided to stay at home.

He said “when I saw the body of the child I couldn’t help it, I cried. I cried and I started to curse everyone, every single Iraqi, from the useless government to the citizen for allowing such heinous crimes to take place.” “And above all, you know whats worse Neurotica?” I shook my head, for I couldn’t imagine anything worse than a child being murdered to the extent where you cant even recognize his innocent facial features. Dr A continued, “Whats worse, is that I just walked off, I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t. That’s the worst part. I just turned around, and walked away”. “I went back home, grabbed my 9 months old son, and hugged him so tight. I didn’t want to let go”.

And that’s when Dr A decided its time to leave. Although he was one of the first people that actually acquired the visa, he had decided to stay a few more months before going to the States. But after that incident, Dr A said no more. He couldn’t handle this country anymore. He just couldn’t. And most of all, he definitely will not subject his new young family to such a lifeless barbaric atmosphere. An atmosphere filled with the stench of death. An atmosphere where only ghosts of the dead roam aimlessly in the dark haunted alleyways, looking for their loved ones, warning them of what is yet to come. Yes, an atmosphere tainted with blood, innocent people’s blood.

I ask you, So what kind of crime did that 5 or 6 year old innocent boy commit? TELL ME WHAT? What did this boy do to deserve being murdered in that barbaric way? Was his only crime that he was in the wrong place at the wrong time? Or maybe he bared a name that his killers didn’t favour? Ha? What did this boy that made his criminal animalistic killers beat his face into a pulp and then shoot him in the head? Can you answer me? Do you even care? Or has this boy, like the many hundreds of thousands of children become a mere statistic to the hundreds of studies being carried about to prove one of two points. Either “We are winning the war” or “We are losing the War”, and whatever in between doesn’t really matter simply because its just another number.

Yup, its just another number, another statistic that will be used to justify the end or is it the means??? Deaths have fallen by 50% they say. I wonder, I wonder if that old man and young boy were included in that statistic. Hmmm, or maybe it doesn’t really matter. Why should it? Deaths have fallen by 50%, so why does it matter. Whats a body here and there? Whats another mother mourning her dead child??? Nothing. Its just another number, Another Decorative Number…

September 24, 2007

A Neurotic SuShi…

Last Friday, as I was on my way to work, I passed by the weekly bazaar that’s held in our compound and all of sudden I remembered a funny incident which Im gonna share with you. Eight or nine months into my first year here, back in 06, and just after all hell broke loose because of the Samarra bombings, I saw one of my expat ex-coworkers exhibiting a blue stone ring on his pinky finger. A blue stone (turquoise or fayrouz in arabic) or even a Carnelian (aqeeq in Arabic) is widely worn by Iraqi men, by Iraqi Shia’ men to be precise. (There are certain stories behind it, on more information on the significance of these rings, you can go here I just googled my question and this informative site came up). I myself didnt know the real reason behind the rings.

I was bemused at the idea of an American wearing the exact ring, so I smiled and asked him “hey, where’d you get that ring?” One of the Iraqis gave it to me, why do you ask? Do you like it? I stood there contemplating, all focus on his pinky. Umm, no, Im not a big fan of men wearing stones, but I do find it intriguing that you are, since its kinda of a typical thing that men from certain areas in Iraq do. What area he asked. The South I said. The South? He repeated. You mean the Sunni’s? I laughed and said nope, the Shia’s. Is that good or bad? I sensed some fear in his eyes. So I decided to tease him abit to get him going. Well, if you do go on site visits, especially ones that are in the West, I think you better make sure that, that ring is left well behind in your room. Tell me more he said. Theres nothing more to say I said.

So you a Sunni or a Shia? He asked. No I’m a sushi, I replied calmly. The guy just looked at me and said “say what?” I’m an S U S H I, I repeated the letters slowly, incase he didn’t get it the second time around. What’s that? The raw fish? He asked. Are you a Buddhist and got reincarnated into a fish or Are you a Muslim? I just cracked up, couldn’t keep a straight face anymore (nor did I find me representing raw fish as fun). No I’m a Muslim sushi I said in a as a matter of fact tone. Again that bewildered look. You lost me he said. Ok ok ok, I relented and went off to explain, my Sushism.

Me: You asked me whether I was a Sunni or a Shia, correct?
Man: Correct
Me: And I answered, Im a sushi, correct?
Man: Aha correct
Me: Ok so far so good.
Man still looking at me with his confused look.
Me: In Iraq my friend, well, let me rephrase, in the Iraq that my parents once knew, there were no questions of sunni’s or shia’s. You are you, you are Iraqi. Be it a Sunni muslim, a Shia Muslim, a Christian, Kurd, you are an Iraqi. And because I don’t believe in all this sectarian differentiation, Im gonna be a sushi. A Sunni AND a Shia. GET IT?
Man: I love sushi, the food that is.
Me: I love sushi, the new sect that is.
And we both laughed.
Man: You still didn’t answer my question
Me: I think I have. And btw, you know how it is rude to ask a woman her age? (Aha, he nodded). Well its kinda rude to ask an Iraqi about his sushism.

And here my story ends, Im gonna go back to work and leave you with your thoughts oh and by the way, I never saw that guy wearing the ring again, lol… It probably scared the hell outta him. But now after reading the significance of these rings, Im at awe, hey I might even start liking the idea of HUBBY wearing a turquoise on his pinky, hmmm. As for now, if anyone asks about being either a Sunni or a Shia’, then SuShi will be my reply. Im still Neurotic, a Neurotic SuShi…

A confession, I have finally joined the neurotic wife club!!!Is there such a thing? This blog is about me being an Iraqi wife whose husband chose to rebuild his country over building his new life with his new wife, ME!!!


8 responses to “posting from an iraqi woman living and working in baghdad: read this if you want to get a feel for the people:: including the comments

  1. Привет!
    Рассталась с парнем, а он оказался сволочью и разместил
    на сайте мои фотки и видео.
    Все знакомые мои знакомые уже видели сайт и прикалываются надо мной
    Подскажите, плиз что делать??? Был ли кто-нибудь в подобной ситуации? Как написать хозяину того сайта???
    Надеюсь на вашу помощь, Кристина!
    PS я смотрю там много таких уродов, посмотрите, может там и ваши фотки кто то разместил

  2. Hi people… 🙂

  3. I’m the only one in this world. Can please someone join me in this life? Or maybe death…

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    thank you

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  6. Подскажите плиз нармальную соц сеть.
    Только кроме майл, однокласников и всякой такой ерунды.
    Нужно для переписки

  7. Где взять? Может тут кто знает??? подскажите

  8. Ответы на вопросы ”Как ухаживать за кожей лица”, “Причины жирной кожи лица” и многое другое смотрите в разделе: Уход за лицом и телом. Ну не было у него ни разу и представить досконально не может, в подробностях, в переживаниях. Как там во рту? А без этого и дрочка – не любовь! Что делать? Может, к соседке пойти? Она вроде блядюга, причем знатная. Но что, вот так вот ей и сказать: мол, давай пососи, хочу я ощущения поиметь. Пошлет куда подальше… Стало парню обидно. Но тут его осенило. “А почему бы у самого себя не пососать? Раз – и готово! Вот и ощущения”. Митя наклонился и попробовал достать Визажист губами. Но не тут-то было – вроде Визажист близко, но, увы…

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