17.01.05

Hello

Dear May

Thank you for agreeing to be available for interview. As I said, I’m a producer for BBC World Service radio, on the news programme The World. I’ve been phoning around all week trying to make contact with various English-speaking Iraqis to interview in the run-up to the elections at the end of this month, so I was very happy to find you!

Would it be OK if I called you on Thursday? Most people I have spoken to say they are nervous about the elections and possible violence on the day. I’d love to hear your thoughts. Perhaps you could tell us about everyday life in Baghdad at the moment as well? Hearing you talk about trying to do your hair in a city of power cuts – ending up with it half curly and half straight – made me think that life must carry on behind the street fighting and explosions on the news. I can’t imagine what it’s like, and I’d love to hear from you about how you manage.

I wonder if you would mind telling me more about your family and your background. It’s not easy for people over here to discover the voices of ordinary Iraqi people whose lives are tangled up in the big news stories. In any case I will email you again, so that I can keep up with your plans.

Take care.

Very best wishes

Bee

26.01.05

Hi, Bee

I received your email and was delighted – it has been ages since I’ve been in contact with anyone from Britain.

Since you asked, here is a little more about myself: I am the eldest of three, two girls and a boy. We were born in Iraq – in 1959, 1962 and 1964. My parents, both pharmacists, travelled in 1960 to the UK to complete their studies at Queen’s University in Belfast. My parents taught at the College of Medicine and my father was soon promoted to become the head of the chemistry department. Being a devoted scientist he got cancer from working with carcinogenic chemicals. My mother did all she could, but he died just before Christmas 1970, in London.

After his death, my mother (only 33) decided to study for her PhD and was accepted at Chelsea College of Science and Technology in London. But she wasn’t very comfortable there. We moved several times before we eventually settled in Dennistoun, in Scotland. After she got her PhD we moved back to Iraq, late in 1975.

Life here, as I told you, is a mini hell. As you know, I teach English literature at Baghdad University. I think it helps my students, because it transports them to another culture, another life, and another world. The world of Jane Austen is so far removed from our daily terror of bombs and violence.

I hope that all is well at your end of the world. Iraqis here want to vote, and are looking forward to the day of the elections because they really do believe that it will make a difference. I’m not that optimistic, but still I hope that it will turn out right.

Hope to hear from you soon.

Best wishes

May

10.02.05

Election day

Hello, May! It was good to hear from you again. Thanks for letting the programme contact you. I wasn’t in that day, but I understand they were very happy. It looked like election day would be trouble. But the news on the actual day was quite inspiring; I couldn’t believe how brave people were and that eight million voted. It always makes me think about people here, who are often too lazy or indifferent to vote. If only they knew what other people go through to do it!

Everything is fine here. In fact, I took some time off after the elections to catch up with normal life. It was good to have a break – the news can be hard to escape when you’re up close to it all day. I have two small kids so I only work part-time now, but sometimes it’s hard to switch off.

Here in the UK everyone’s caught up in the earth-shaking news that Prince Charles is to marry his girlfriend Camilla. News reporters are wondering whether the British public approves or not (given the enduring fascination with Diana). I never know whether to be reassured by stories like this: you think, ‘Well the world can’t be so bad after all.’ But then you think, ‘Do people really care about THIS?’ Of course, we all follow Iraq on the news. But it’s hard to imagine ordinary people caught up in the scenes on TV. I sometimes try to imagine what life would be like if the conditions in Baghdad were suddenly imposed on London.

Spring is nearly starting here and there are a few buds poking out of the soil. It’s still cold but it feels like spring is on its way.

How is your teaching going? Are your students coping with the ‘regime change’? I wonder what things are like now, compared to before the invasion.

Hope you are well.

Bee

17.02.05

Before and after

Hello, Bee

Things seem no better after the elections, but we do hope that the situation will improve. It’s not so easy to try and foresee things; it’s a bit early and there are conflicts among the winners themselves. We’ll have to wait and see.

I was thinking about your questions and the comparison between ‘Now’ and ‘Then’. You ask what it’s like to teach at an Iraqi university. So let me try to describe it for you: classes start at 8.30 and continue to around 1.30. Before the invasion we used to have evening classes but now it’s no longer safe, and public transport is not available after dark. I don’t take classes before 10 a.m. because I adore my morning rituals and love to take my time when showering and having breakfast and drying my hair (this is my most important part of the day). I hate to rush things or be in a hurry, no matter what. And if the situation requires hurrying (as it sometimes does) my whole day is ruined. Besides, my brain doesn’t function properly till after 10 a.m.

Teaching at the College of Education for Women is quite different from my other teaching experiences when I taught mixed-sex classes. As you know, our society is sort of restricted when it comes to mixing between the sexes. Many families do not approve, and think letting male and female students sit next to each other is like pouring petrol on fire. But if parents are more open-minded, they will send their girls to mixed colleges.

Young women in our college are treated like girls, and the department will send for the father or guardian if a student is absent or does not wear proper uniform. Sometimes a student who is very oppressed at home comes to college all covered up and wearing no make-up. Once she is inside she changes her clothes in the bathroom, puts on heavy make-up, removes her head cover and pulls her hair down. This is done without the knowledge of the family, and of course the procedure is reversed when it’s time to go home.

Teachers have greater freedom, but there are limitations. In the old days before the invasion, trousers weren’t accepted. I remember when I had to meet the former president of the university to sign my appointment letter. The man looked at me and said, ‘Please don’t think that I am old-fashioned, but trousers are not really acceptable because you are going to set an example to the female students.’ I smiled at him and said cheerfully that I wouldn’t be wearing them again, explaining, ‘They have just been tailored to fit me and I thought that, since I was meeting you, I should wear nice clothes.’ He laughed and said, ‘You remind me of a teacher at medical college.’ And then he gave my mother’s name! I looked surprised and told him she was my mother, and he chuckled, saying, ‘Now I know whom you take after.’ (He was later assassinated, shot dead in his clinic shortly after the invasion.)

Will have to run to make dinner now.

Love

May

18.02.05

RE: Before and after

Dear May

Sorry to hear about the university president. But it’s amazing to hear about daily life at your college. Could it be as though time’s going backwards for women in your country? In the West we tend to view Arab countries as oppressive towards women, but by the sound of your mum it can’t have been all that bad before the invasion. Unless she was considered unusual in being educated and working as a pharmacist? After your dad died, was she able to be independent and make a comfortable living from her work?

I guess I’m partly interested in how it is for women in your country because my children are both girls. They are Eva, aged 3, and Zola, aged 2. Even at such a young age they are very different people. Having daughters has certainly made me think more about how societies treat women. It’s one thing when you’re bothered on your own behalf, but quite another when you worry about your own child and her prospects. I grew up thinking women could do anything and everything, but now it strikes me that if you have kids you realize you are constrained in one way or another. You have to sort of choose: shall I try to forge ahead with my career, or shall I try to be a perfect mother? (Or completely do my own head in trying to do both.)

So that’s why I love to know about your mum, and your female students. Plus I’m basically a nosey person, so there you have it. I must dash now, but I hope that you’re well and that you can drop me a line soon.

Love

Bee

21.02.05

RE: Before and after

Hello, Bee

As you guessed, my mother was quite unusual for an Iraqi woman. She worked after her graduation from the college of pharmacy in 1957, and has continued to work ever since. I remember she had no time to cook or do the usual household chores when I was growing up, so we had a servant/cook for quite a long time. When one servant left we would get another, and for those periods in between my mother would order a whole week’s meals from a restaurant and put them in the deep freeze for us to heat up and eat! Most Iraqi women are very domestic, though. Housework here is regarded solely as a female duty that has to be carried out whether the woman wants to or not, and whether she works or not. I remember an old man asking me once whether I could bake bread or not, and when I said no, he eyed me worriedly, saying, ‘Women who can’t bake bread are not popular in the marriage market.’ I had been married then for 17 years so I laughed and said, ‘Yes, you’re quite right. I’m really suffering from this defect.’

I think around two-thirds of women stay home to raise the family, but this is all changing now because of the high number of men that have been, or still are, killed and imprisoned. But unemployment has actually gone up since the US invasion. Ministries and administrations have been dissolved, leaving millions simply jobless.

I think I would describe our family as educated upper-middle class. Not filthy rich, but you could say we are well off. Not many people in this category remain now. Most of them emigrated between 1991 and 2003, during the embargo years, and the rest have fled the country since the US invasion. I can’t say that they do not exist but they are a tiny and ineffective minority. Our old neighbours were mostly doctors, pharmacists, mayors, lawyers, army generals etc. Most of these people have either died or left the country, and the houses that once stood empty are now occupied, either by distant relatives or by people displaced from other neighbourhoods who are very different in their habits.

The truth is that most of those still in the country cannot afford the expense of emigrating and have failed to get jobs outside Iraq, despite the hundreds of applications they have filled out. There are some middle-class types that also stayed, hoping to benefit from the present situation. They have shut their minds and souls to all that is logical, modern and cultured. One colleague, for example, totally changed her principles and loyalty after the invasion. When confronted she simply said that she had been oppressed and helpless in the old days, while in reality she was one of the regime’s most committed followers.

Time to go now. I hope you are well in London.

Love

May

22.06.05

Hello again

Hello, May! How are you?

I hope you’re well. It seems like such a long time since the elections, and looking at the news over here nothing seems to be getting any better. The BBC is reporting a study that puts the civilian death toll since the invasion at around 25,000 – so shocking.

It’s been a busy time here but I am having a good summer; we have a heatwave here in the UK and London looks so beautiful, it’s shimmering. It’s very hot outside and I can hear the rumbling sound of central London through our office windows. You will remember from your time in Scotland that we British people take the weather very seriously as a subject: any change in temperature is greeted with shock and amazement, even if it’s only to be expected.

I loved reading about your family. Mine is a bit patchy and hard to describe; my mum’s family is all dead apart from her sister in Canada. I know very little about the previous generations. I don’t really describe myself by class – if someone else feels the need to then that’s up to them. I grew up in a very small family unit. My father left when I was a baby so it was just my mum and older brother. I’ve since found out that we were pretty poor at the time, she was a part-time teacher while she brought us up and that was her only income. But my mum’s very clever and we had no idea that we were skint. I can now boast about our whacky upbringing: Mum bringing home and cooking squashed roadkill (pheasants and rabbits), weird hippy clothes that we wore, and strange family holidays. Schoolfriends teased me for not having a TV in our house, but of course all these things are very trendy now. (My mum and her boyfriend Dave now own a shop in York and live very comfortably in a gorgeous house in the countryside, so it’s safe to say they made it in the end!)

I have better financial security than my mum had as a young mother. My husband Justin is also a journalist but works on TV (= better paid) and so he’s the breadwinner. When we first got together I was embarrassed by our financial arrangements. I stopped earning for a while when our first baby, Eva, was born. He was scrupulously careful to make me feel the income was shared, but even so I still remember the first time I bought a lipstick with ‘his’ money, and how strange it felt. Now I doubt my wages will ever match his so I have shed those early misgivings – consider it a housekeeper’s/mother’s/secretary’s salary if you will, haha!

Even so I wouldn’t want the girls to be spoilt and not know the value of money. When they’re teenagers I’ll expect them to earn their own just as I did. And although our neighbourhood is one of London’s posh ones, which is all very nice, the girls have very little in the way of Stuff. You know – Barbie dolls, technology, trendy clothes and all that. A bit mean perhaps, but fortunately they’re still too young to have realized it.

Well anyway, I thought I would just drop you a line and say hello. Let me know how you are!

Very best wishes

Bee

13.03.06

A loud Hiiiiiii from Iraq

Dear Bee

It’s been a very long time since we emailed but, believe me, I do want to continue our acquaintance. The reason for my long absence is due to various reasons such as the continued electricity failure in the country, the horrible and bloody daily events we have to live through, mid-term examinations and the marking of tons of students’ papers and, last but not least, the collapse of my old and crazy computer.

Do you want to know what I did to overcome some of the depressive circumstances? I got married. Our families objected from the very beginning, so no one came to the wedding. It was all over very quickly; a friend took us to the marriage office and was a witness to the marriage contract, and that’s all. On the way back we bought a chocolate cake and some cans of Pepsi. I wore cream slacks and a leopard-print T-shirt with an Islamic cloak and head cover, he wore a pair of jeans and a shirt. The friend dropped us at my house, we went in and that was that. (It was so unlike my first wedding, although that wasn’t all that much better. I’ve been married before, and then widowed. There is so much more to tell you, but it makes me unhappy so, for now, that is all I will say.)

We are really on our own. At least now I have someone to talk to during the long evenings of the curfew, a man to hide behind when the sound of bombs wakes me in the middle of the night, and to protect me when I have to face the horrors of the daily drive to work.

Please do get in touch. Looking forward to hearing from you soon.

May

14.03.06

A big cheer from London

MAY, I’m so delighted to hear from you! Thanks for writing; it really is a relief. Even though it’s been such a long time, every bomb made me think of you, and I wondered if you were OK. It makes listening to the news from Iraq a very different experience.

Congratulations on your marriage! I’m sorry your family didn’t agree and you couldn’t celebrate it in the usual way. I imagine a traditional Iraqi wedding is quite something. But then the important part is who you choose, not how you do it. So I wish you both the very best.

I also have some news: I’m only going to be working for another month or so as I’m expecting another baby, due on 25th May. I’m getting quite nervous actually. I haven’t found out if it’s a girl or a boy, but because I already have two girls everyone keeps saying that I must be hoping for a boy. It’s irritating, and makes me automatic-ally reply that I want another girl. But the truth is, I really don’t mind either way. I just wish it would hurry up as I absolutely hate being pregnant.

Yesterday the withdrawal of some British troops from Iraq sparked a wide debate here. Some are saying that the Iraqis want the troops to leave, but other people (including the government) argue that since the troops are there, they should at least try to finish the job before they leave – whatever the ‘job’ is. Should all the troops leave? Has anything got better since the invasion?

Well, I’d better go and get started on the day’s work, digging around for stories and news angles and chasing things up. But again I must tell you how happy I am to hear that you are OK despite the circumstances. And CONGRATULATIONS on your marriage!

All the best

Bee

14.03.06

Daily life (with no hairdryer)

Dear Bee

You can’t believe how thrilled I am to hear from you. It is a nice thing to talk to someone who is not actually living in the inferno.

I’ll tell you something from our daily experiences and you can judge how it is. This morning I woke up at 4 a.m., not because I’m an early riser but because I want to take a shower and dry my hair before going to work. As I got out of the bathroom the electricity went off, and so did my dreams of washing and drying my hair. So I wore it in a ponytail, though it is quite short.

At nine my husband started the car and we discovered that we had very little petrol (enough if everything goes well – but in the current atmosphere you can’t take any chances). And so we went looking for petrol (black market, of course). We filled the car up and headed for work. But the bridge was closed and no one was allowed to cross, so after all the rushing and waking up early I still couldn’t get to work.

Do you know that I haven’t been to a petrol station since the early days of the invasion? Since then, the black market has flourished everywhere and in every business. People openly stand on the high-street pavements selling the kerosene and gas bottles that we need but can’t normally find anywhere else. These people are merely dealers for the ones we call ‘whales’, who are usually influential people with prominent posts. They keep themselves in the background but take all the cash. They use bribes (or other means) to take the kerosene and gas bottles supplied to the petrol stations and pass them to their dealers, who sell them. I buy the black market petrol sold on the street for two reasons. The first is that petrol stations are not safe; they are an easy target. Many people waiting in the long queues have been killed or injured. The second reason is that some of these stations mix water with the fuel to compensate for the quantity stolen and sold on the black market, and this of course ruins the engine.

Food shopping has also changed, and maybe for the better. Residential areas like ours usually lack sufficient shopping facilities but since the invasion and the arrival of so many displaced people, shops have sprung up out of nowhere and they are everywhere now. We have more than we really need, but we try to remain in the neighbourhood because it is much safer. On the days when there is a curfew we have no choice but to buy from them, no matter how bad the produce may be. I remember buying bread that turned out to be stale, crushed tomatoes etc., and all for the same price as fresh. However, I sometimes stop on my way back from college to buy bread and vegetables, because they are fresher in a nearby neighbourhood that I pass through when driving home.

As for college, I am teaching first-year students the subjects of human rights(!) and democracy (!!!). Not topics to which they relate naturally, as you may imagine. It is hard to know how best to teach them. I also teach third-year students the novels The Scarlet Letter, Pride and Prejudice and Hard Times.

You asked what will happen if all the troops pull out? Well, I think it is so unpredictable. What I think is that they shouldn’t have come in the first place and shouldn’t have listened to the opposition. Yeah the Old Man had his faults, but we were better off then than we are now. Iraq is now a land drowned in blood and chaos. At least before we were a fully sovereign and independent country. If the troops pull out, I suppose there will be more bloodshed. And we never know what Iran will do.

But, Bee, I tell you this. The Americans say Iraq needs them to mediate between our warring groups. I really do not agree. Iraqi society is mostly tribal and governed by tribal rules. Actually, my family is not really governed by them. This is partly because of my father dying young and my mother being an only child – we are, to some extent, on our own, without aunts and uncles to interfere in our lives and our beliefs. It is also because Baghdad is like a mosaic of different cultures and beliefs with Sunnis, Shi’ites and all the different types of Christians, Arabs, Kurds, Turcoman Armenians and others living in one city. All these groups seemed to live peacefully together until the US ‘democracy’ ignited all the differences that we see today…

I’m so glad that you are expecting your baby soon, and I wish you an easy and quick labour – and good health for you and the baby, which is more important than its sex.

Please write as often as you can.

Love

May

28.03.06

A poem

Hello there, May

I hope things haven’t been too spoilt by the daily madness today. I thought of you last week as I was trying to contact a Baghdad-based poet; he’d written very poignantly about poetry and his hopes for the new Iraq. I finally got him on the phone, hoping to get an interview, but he was so upset, he wept and seemed half crazy. He kept changing his name and acting terrified. In the end I couldn’t bear to ask him to do an interview. I just tried to make sympathetic comments as I listened, then felt dreadful and useless afterwards.

He made me think about your literature students: don’t they find it hard to relate to literature when their lives are a daily struggle? How can you teach Jane Austen in Baghdad? How can they make sense of it? I imagine it could be a kind of escape for them. When I was at school I had a wonderful English teacher. One day she set us a task: we all had to learn a poem off by heart, to recite in front of the class. It could be any poem but a minimum of fourteen lines. The reason, she said, was in case any of us went to prison. We all laughed but I remember her reasoning: a poem can sustain you. I’ve never been to prison but I can still remember my poem.

It was ‘Spring and Fall: To a Young Child’ by Gerard Manley Hopkins. I enjoyed the sounds, especially ‘worlds of wanwood leafmeal lie’. At the time the meaning was a bit obscure, but now I’m older I think I get more from it. You may know it but I’m sending you it anyway:

Other news: I have only one more week of work before I go off on maternity leave. I am a little (= extremely) scared of giving birth, but looking forward to the baby.

A funny thing: I told you my husband Justin is a journalist too, well his programme, Newsnight, has asked him to do an experiment, to be their ‘Ethical Man’. This means we’ll have to live an environmentally friendly lifestyle for a year while they film us trying to do it. I am quite good at environmental stuff like recycling, but Justin is terrible. The idea is to change each aspect of our family life: the way we travel, eat, run the house. They’ll take away our family car etc. and film the whole thing. I don’t know if you can watch films on your computer, but if you fancy a silly distraction we’re on the Newsnight website. My friends are already teasing me a lot about it, as you can imagine.

Well, May, I’ll drop you another line before I finish work next week. In the meantime, I hope it’s going well for you and your new husband. I hope you are both very well.

Take care!

Bee

22.04.06

Before the baby comes

Hi, Bee

I read the poem and I applaud your memory of your schooldays. By the way, I saw your photo and your husband’s Mr Ethical project on the internet and I think you look very nice.

I expect you are taking your leave now, and I wish you a safe delivery and good health for you and the baby.

I hope to hear from you soon. Wish you all the luck and happiness.

Love

May

11.05.06

Quick hello

Hi there, May – no baby news to report (due in two weeks; wish it would hurry up) but I just wanted to say that it’s nice to be in touch with you and I hope we can continue to email while I’m on maternity leave.

Just a quick hello, and hope that you are well and taking care.

Bee

06.06.06

Elsa is here!

Another girl! Elsa Rowlatt arrived at 5.10 p.m. on Sunday 28th May.

We’re doing fine; and getting lots of rest.

Love to everyone

Bee

04.07.06

RE: Elsa is here!

CONGRATULATIONS. SO HAPPY FOR YOU. SORRY COULDN’T WRITE SOONER. THE PHONE THAT MY EMAIL IS CONNECTED TO IS OUT OF ORDER. THESE ARE POST-WAR LUXURIES.

LOTS OF LOVE FOR YOU AND THE BABY.

MAY

16.07.06

RE: Elsa is here!

Dear Bee

Congratulations once again on the arrival of Elsa. You must be very happy but also exhausted. Raising three children must be very time and health-consuming, but still, children give life its meaning. I wish things on my side were like in ‘the good old bad old days’, then I would have been able to send you a little gift. But, I’m sorry, it is quite impossible at present.

Life is different here now. People have stopped socializing and visits are kept as scarce as possible. Neighbours can spend time together, but going out of the area to visit is only done when absolutely necessary. I suppose this is true of us all, because at the end of each holiday I ask students about what they did in their free time. Answers are usually the same: they weren’t even able to visit their grandparents on special feast days, and had to keep it to phone calls.

My nearest friend is about half an hour’s walk away. We used to meet frequently until the concrete walls and barbed wire prevented easy access. Now we talk on our mobile phones only when necessary, just to make sure that she and her family are OK when a roadside bomb or car bomb goes off near their home, and vice versa. Mobile phones tend to be costly and our landlines were cut off shortly after the post-invasion government was established.

The only people I get to gossip with are my close colleagues at the university where we sit and discuss current issues over coffee. My mother, however, gossips with the neighbours who come to her pharmacy and we get all the news through her. So you see, Bee, you are my major outlet when I feel the need to talk. Other friends have emigrated and we have lost touch, although we are trying to reconnect via the internet. You can’t imagine how many friends and families have separated since the invasion, and those remaining are mostly depressed or have lost their trust in other people.

Everything has changed here. Even weddings. Before the invasion weddings in Iraq were celebrated in the evenings. The celebration usually began when the couple arrived and the music and dancing would follow. If the people were modern in their outlook, the party would be mixed and men and women would dance together. If the families were conservative, the hall would be reserved for women only, and the bridegroom would be allowed in at the end.

Couples usually started their honeymoon at around midnight or later. They’d get into a decorated car and guests would follow them for as long as possible. I remember seeing people get out at the traffic lights and dance around from sheer joy while the light was red, then hurry back into their car when it turned green. Others would fire gunshots in the air (though prohibited by law) and people, including the married couple, would end up at the police station (but they were usually only fined and then set free).

Now the wedding parties begin early, and end just before dusk. The other day I saw a young woman wearing a party outfit and jewellery, about to attend a wedding. She looked ridiculous in the daytime, but I couldn’t blame her. We all have to live with the fear of what might happen at any moment, and night-time is not safe. But it makes me sad that people cannot celebrate like they used to, or even mourn for that matter. Even burials and the times for accepting condolences have changed. Do you know that sometimes the family of the deceased have to take the corpse back home and then return the next day, or even bury their dead in a different cemetery, because of road closures and security alerts? I’ve heard that some even had to bury their dead temporarily near their homes until conditions relaxed.

As for us, things aren’t getting any better. We don’t know what to do with ourselves. We are not rich enough to emigrate, nor can we find a substitute. It is a stalemate.

Anyway, we are still breathing and I’m trying to write a paper on A Tale of Two Cities. This makes me even more depressed but I need to finish it as one of three papers to be promoted to Assistant Professor.

Please write; I miss civilization and peace.

LOVE

25.07.06

Tale of two cities

Oh May, I LOVED A Tale of Two Cities! It is full of horror, but love wins in the end! I read it as a young teenager and fell in love with Sidney Carton. I thought Lucy should have loved him and not the other guy.

You have your own reign of terror. If Dickens could only know that someone in your circumstances is studying that book, while we correspond between our own two cities.

I hope you get the promotion. I would love to be able to send you some books. Do you need anything? One of the programmes I work for occasionally sends a correspondent into Baghdad and I could try to get something brought in for you. It would take a while, though. Is there anything you would like, something that would cheer you up in these difficult times?

It’s proper summer now. We had a break in France with the entire Rowlatt clan (my husband Justin’s family is huge) and there was a heatwave; it was mad. Eva and Zola are on school holidays, and Elsa the new baby is very sweet. In fact I keep forgetting I’ve got a baby, she’s so quiet. So this is a lovely summer for me even though the rest of the world seems to be boiling into a fury. Lebanon is horrible and I’m glad I’m not at work having to think about it.

OK, May, sending you lots of love, keep your spirits up and good luck with A Tale of Two Cities.

Bee XX

26.07.06

Some questions about the future

Dear Bee

I received your email and was really happy to see you having a nice time. It gives me some hope for a better world, where people can come and go where and when they wish. I’m also glad that little Elsa is a very nice and happy baby. At least she won’t make you edgy and nervous from the continuous screaming and lack of sleep. As for us here, it is rather difficult to describe what we are going through. It is not just the lack of security but it is the lack of everything. Do you know, Bee, that I am 46 years old and still can’t do what I want? What is worse now is the threat of losing our lives, just because we are university teachers. Some of my colleagues have been viciously murdered and others have received threats warning them that if they don’t leave the country they will meet a similar fate.

I would love to leave and seek asylum somewhere, anywhere, but I don’t know where and how. Simple migration requires a lot of money, which I don’t have, because I’ve always worked to provide for my home. My first husband was always in debt. My second husband is a nice person, but is jobless because he is a Sunni and no Sunni can ever work with the various militias controlling Baghdad.

Bee, although we have only known each other via email, I feel that you understand me. I know that I’m probably asking too much, but can you please inquire whether I can get asylum or anything similar? I have to go; there is a power failure.

Love

May

xxx

26.07.06

RE: Some questions about the future

Dear May

I am going to try. I will contact some friends I have who work at the Refugee Council (a charity which helps asylum seekers and refugees) to find out what the best procedure is. I know it’s not easy and that Britain has become much more strict. But I will look into it, and let you know.

Hang in there, May!

Love from

Bee

30.07.06

Aborted trip to Jordan

Dear Bee

I am really very grateful – thank you for your concern. Things here are getting worse every day. Imagine, I was supposed to go to Jordan for a couple of days, to hunt for a job and a way out of here. Since I cannot afford to go by plane, I decided to go by car. A lot of my friends warned me that there were gangs on the way and that I might get robbed, raped or killed, or maybe all three. But my stubborn head kept telling me not to worry and so I made reservations and contacted some friends. But what happened was just unbelievable.

The driver told me to be ready at six in the morning, so as to start the journey as soon as the curfew ended. At five he called to confirm and I told him that I was ready. I had food and cold drinks etc. My husband was scared of my going alone all the way there, while he had to stay on his own in Baghdad. The mere thought of my leaving made him ill. But going to a hospital nowadays is out of the question because medical facilities in Iraq are almost non-existent. The hospitals are mostly controlled by militias, so that any Sunni seeking treatment is likely to be killed by deliberate medical malpractice, such as being given the ‘wrong’ injection. He could not risk going.

But it seems that fate had already made its decision about my journey. The driver called again at 6.15 and said that he was sorry, he couldn’t make it because some armed men had broken into his uncle’s house and killed his 27-year-old cousin. I realized how dangerous it was. I cancelled the reservations and sat at home thinking.

Anyway, in the afternoon we went out to try to buy hair colour to hide my grey hair but could not find one single shop open – except two or three selling food, which is of course a mercy.

Can you believe my homeland has become so lawless and chaotic? I thank you again for your concern, and I do hope that we can meet one day. My love to you and the girls and a big kiss for Elsa; my regards to your husband.

XXX

15.08.06

Not good news

Hi there, May

I’m sorry, but the news about immigration and asylum is bad.

I contacted a friend who works for the Refugee Council, and he said that when the invasion first began in 2003 lots of Iraqis claimed asylum here. But now the government is not accepting any more, and some who have tried to claim asylum are being sent back home. I asked my friend what the best way to claim asylum is, and he said you have to prove that your life is in clear and direct danger if you return to Iraq. I told him that some of your colleagues have had death threats or even been murdered, and he said you should look for documentary evidence of this; newspaper reports might help.

It is really difficult to do, and furthermore those in the actual process of claiming asylum can be treated very badly – I volunteer for the Refugee Council as a careers adviser, and my current mentee told me that the interviews to claim her refugee status were totally traumatic. As career mentors we’re not supposed ever to talk about why they became refugees. But it came up once in conversation, what she had gone through at British Immigration. She just put her face in her hands and was silent for a while, and then said it was indescribable (she came from Angola several years ago).

I feel bad giving you such negative news, May. If you can get any kind of documentary evidence of your danger, you must do so. Also keep a diary of events, with the dates. Could you go to live in Jordan? I wish I could do more to help, and if there’s anything else I can do then you must let me know.

I wish I could get hold of better news to cheer you up a bit. Today is Zola’s birthday (my middle daughter) and she is 4. We’re all about to go to an outdoor theatre in the park, to see a children’s play.

Take care, May.

All my best wishes

Bee XX

21.08.06

Hiiiiii and thank you

Hi, Bee

Thank you very much for everything and for explaining the asylum situation.

It is getting worse here. We are on the brink of a civil war. The warring parties are all fighting for government posts and authority. Everyday life is a difficult mission. You have to search for bread, vegetables, petrol, clean water. But even so, there are many people who are finding it even harder than us. There are no shops. The shopping area in our district is closed and people are using it to dump their rubbish because it is not being collected. I’ve been keeping the black plastic bags in the garden but the hot weather rotted them quickly and the smell became unbearable so my husband took them and dumped them, just as other people were doing. Bee, when he went there he was shocked to discover that not only was rubbish being dumped there but also unidentified corpses. There were about four bodies dumped among the rubbish bags.

Please don’t stop writing, because your emails give me hope that there still are good people in the world.

Love and kisses

May X

31.08.06

Another tale of two cities

May!

I can’t begin to imagine your daily life, the backdrop of violence and then trying to get stuff done. How about your paper on A Tale of Two Cities; how is it going?

Summer is ending here. The leaves on the trees are just starting to go yellow; the smell of the air changes. It’s very beautiful but it makes me feel a bit sad and nostalgic. My girls are back at school next week, so that will mean I’ll have some time free to plan my next moves. Elsa is only three months old now but I know I will want to do some part-time work when she’s about six months.

Take care of yourself and remember someone is thinking of you and wishing for your safety.

Bee XX

31.08.06

Fountain!

Hi, Bee

Got your email and was so happy. It was like a fountain in the middle of a desert.

I’m happy that you’re thinking of going back to work because that is really your biggest asset in life. Kids grow up, husbands might become a pain in the neck (or anywhere else for that matter); but your work is your true life.

As for our life here, I can tell you that we have learned to solve all kinds of problems. We’ve solved the problem of electricity by buying private generators and also by linking up to a huge street generator (also privately owned) because our small ones cannot go on all day and night. You can’t imagine the cost of all this. Almost 60 per cent of my income goes on fuel.

As for my work on Dickens, I’ve collected all the stuff I need and written a first draft. But it seems futile, and I keep asking myself, ‘What is the point of work and education if the illiterate or semi-illiterate gain control over everything and kill the learned?’ The other day a professor of linguistics was shot dead at the College of Arts. He was a man devoted to his work, and I don’t think that he had any political views or anything, but still this did not save him.

Bee, I have applied for a job at the UN and will have to take an exam sometime in October. I don’t know if I will be accepted. Being an Iraqi is an obstacle in terms of getting any job with an international organization, or a visa to any country.

Anyway, that’s all for now. Kiss the girls for me, and my love to you.

May

03.09.06

Gift for you

MAY, hello. I’ve been thinking about you a lot recently and I was very excited. I wasn’t going to tell you, but I thought I had found a way to get a gift to you – a couple of nice books – because an old friend of mine visited us today and he’s been working as a cameraman for CNN, embedded with the US military in Baghdad. I thought you could meet up. But he thought it was so horrific out there that he says he is never going back. (Even though they paid him TWO THOUSAND dollars a day, can you believe?)

Yes, you are right about the importance of careers. My father left when I was 2 and my brother was 5, and he never gave my mum a single penny from that day on. And so she did absolutely everything herself, and never stopped working. Indeed, I think we modern women really define ourselves by our careers – perhaps almost too much. I have always loved my job and thought I was lucky to have it. But even so, I sometimes feel I would like to try something new.

OK, May – I hope you had a nice weekend.

Love

B XX

11.09.06

Power failures and fish and chips

Hi, Bee

This is the third attempt to write an email to you. Every time the power fails my old computer breaks down. My husband took it to be repaired and it came back OK, but we didn’t have an internet connection for three days.

We are back at college, and the re-sit exams are on. You can’t imagine how frustrating it is to read the poor English of our students, but considering the current situation they cannot really be blamed.

The other day two more professors were killed. More shopkeepers in our area have been slain – and I mean that (their heads were cut off). I don’t know what will happen to us all. I hope things will ease, but I doubt it.

Love and kisses to you, dear.

May XX

PS How much does a portion of takeaway fish and chips cost now, and an ice cream? Back when I lived in the UK it cost 90p for the first and 6p for the second.

PPS A joke: WHAT DO SEA MONSTERS EAT?? FISH AND SHIPS.

21.09.06

Fish and chips

Hello, May

Fish (large cod) and chips (medium) are now £4.95 at my local chippy. I sometimes get them if we’re all really tired. I love it. And an ice cream from the ice-cream van costs around 60p, but with the girls we usually get a Mini Milk – they’re tiny little ones but they’re delicious and they only cost 30p.

I’ve been trying to think of a joke to send you, but I’m terrible at jokes and can never remember the ones I like.

Term’s started and I am somehow suddenly on the Parents’ Association at the girls’ school. I’m not quite sure how it happened, I was basically pounced upon by a scary mum and so I said yes. Lots of meetings, fund-raising, chasing parents around and so on. We have to do it for two years. Hmm.

And I’ve also been in touch with my colleagues at the BBC, just to remind them I’m still here and when I’m thinking of going back (probably around Christmas time). May, listen: I’ve been asking around about who is going into Baghdad from the BBC next. One of Justin’s colleagues is going over soon, and although they have to stay inside the International Zone, they work with Iraqis who come in and out of the zone. Is there any way I could get a present to you? I have two books I wanted to send you, but would you be offended if I sent a small amount of money too? US dollars perhaps, I don’t know what would be best. Or, if not, is there something I could send to help your students perhaps? Well, in any case, let me know if I can proceed with that plan, and what is the best way.

Wishing you a bright day

Bee

23.09.06

Ramadan

Dear Bee

Can’t tell you how happy I am to hear from you. Feeling happy, or at least satisfied, gives us inner strength and helps us overcome anything.

Today is the first day of the fasting month for Moslems. In this month people are supposed to fast from dawn to dusk (they literally eat nothing). Families gather at sundown with all kinds of lovely food to break their fast. Before the invasion people used to invite friends, but now it is just families. At sundown the streets of Baghdad are empty and you can drive fast and go anywhere in a few minutes, because everyone is inside eating. Yet most people are not grumpy, despite the hunger, because they know that this is the month of forgiveness and it makes people generous and kind.

LOVE AND KISSES TO YOU AND FAMILY

MAY