A Family in Baghdad

Good evening
I got this emai from an Iraqi friend

faiza
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Hello all,
I hope all is well with you.Go to the following site, you will hear a song see some photos that are both painful and sad. Never give up hope....:
http://www.shms4me.com/index007.htm
Best wishes
Fadhil

Friday, May 5th, 2006
Good evening

I went back from America to our house in Amman; our temporary house. I wish things will get better in Iraq, so we could go back to our real home there, where our memories are, and our future…
I remained in America for exactly two months…
The trip was busy meeting people, the media, and official meetings with the Congress…
I crossed the United States from east to west three times in the past two months; I boarded planes, trains, buses, the sub-way, and taxies. I carried my bags from place to place, my joints and bones hurt me from pulling the bags. And whenever I have a flight from east to west or vice-versa, the flight duration would be 5 or 6 hours, I wouldn't be able to sleep that night from all the aches of my body; all my bones would hurt me, especially my fingers from carrying the bags and running. Sometimes I would sit and ask myself; while I am tired, my face yellow and pale, my eyes puffy from lack of sleep, my mood crumbled, and my heart sad because of what I hear from Iraq and its sad tidings. I ask myself: why am I here?
Why do I run from place to place, speak and speak, listen, debate, and answer, read the internet to find out the latest news of Iraq and the world, the latest speeches of Bush and his administration, so I could talk about them in my next meetings. I always try to update my information, so the debate would be more realistic; as we talk about the latest news from Iraq, and what would happen there in the future, by scanning the present situation.
I find no answer but that this war ripped apart our lives, our families, and our stability. And we have to work in every way to defend Iraq, and the Iraqis…
I could have been one of the new Iraqis (the half-sleeves) those who love the occupation, and regard it as a new opportunity to control the positions of ruling, power, authority, and wealth.
I could have been a thieving opportunist, applauding the occupation, and making business deals with them, to fill my pockets with dollars.
I could have emigrated to Europe or America, thinking of my own personal destiny, and that of my sons, and let Iraq and its people go to hell. I am an engineer, and so is my husband; we can find work with foreign companies; make business, money, and happiness. Like so many Iraqis did after the fall of Baghdad, choosing the path of solving the personal problem, not thinking of others…
But I believe I have a history full of success; I have been excellent in my study and professional life, and even my family- all my brothers and sisters – were never opportunists or back-climbers. We succeeded and excelled by our own efforts, or by our hands, like the Iraqis say. My father and mother, may GOD rest their souls, raised us so as not to be opportunists. My father always used to say: Be learned, and kings will submit to you… GOD rest his soul, how grateful I feel to him, for giving the girls the same opportunity like the boys, he never differentiated between us in treatment, education, or affection. In our societies, they sometimes prefer boys to girls. But in our house, where we grew up, we found nothing of this…
We studies, we excelled, boys and girls, and our father and mother were proud of us. We succeeded in our professional lives; doctors, engineers, and pharmacists. We did not steal, take bribes, or treat people arrogantly and harmfully. We spent our lives in Iraq, with our reputation as clean as gold, thank God…
But after the fall of Baghdad, the deterioration of the security conditions, and the targeting of the scientific qualified people, my brothers; the doctors and university professors went out to emigration countries. Most of us left our homes, compelled, and left the country.
But with all this big pain, I say: thank God we didn't turn to opportunists, like so many losers did, grapping this chance to bite the flesh of Iraq, putting their consciences in the rubbish bin.
Thank God, in spite of all the losses; we lost our houses, our jobs, our friends, neighbors, and memories, but we didn't lose our consciences. And at least, in front of our children, and the people who know us, we remained a model of the people who love Iraq, are loyal to it, feel its pain, and do all they can to help the people there- by money, or by defending them with words of truth…
This is the least possible kindness we can perform for Iraq.
We can never repay the kindness back to Iraq, no matter what we do. For to us, Iraq is as dear as the mother and the father together…
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I feel very sad when I see a lying, or a hypocrite, or an opportunist Iraqi, especially those who live outside Iraq. Who lie when they speak of their former lives, showing themselves as victims, to gain people's sympathy.
I felt sorry when I saw the women who came from the Green Zone in Baghdad, to the New York conference, as they lied when they talked about Iraq.
One of them, a Kurd, used to live in Britain. She is from a very rich family, graduated from a British university, said in the conference that only 5% of the Iraqi women are educated. We confronted her; we- the Iraqi universities' graduates. We asked her where did she get this information from? We studied pharmacology, engineering, and medicine, and in the university, almost 50% of the students were girls, why do you lie? You lived in Britain since 1960, what do you know about Iraq?
Then, another woman came on, and said in front of the conference: I am a Shia'at, and I used to be afraid to say I am a Shia'at at the times of saddam, I used to hide in my house, and when the regime fell, I felt happy, and I got out to work with the organizations now.
I told everybody: I am a Shia'at. I lived all my life honored and respected, and no one touched me by any harm. And so was the issue with my brothers and sisters; we studied, excelled, and faced no problems. My brothers were among the top graduates in university, and they continued their studies for PhD degrees in Britain and America, the fees paid by the Iraqi state. No body did them any wrong because they were Shia'ats. But this woman is a loser, attaching her failure to imaginary stories, and now, because she is a lying opportunist, she cooperates with the occupation and supports it. These sick looser models are the ones who are ready to cooperate with the occupation, but the successful people, from good families, the satisfied; those have dignity, and self-respect, they do not stoop to low levels, or tarnish their reputations and clean history. So, they preferred to leave the country, and endure the pain of separation, which is better than becoming opportunist, hypocrite monkeys, without dignity, without self-respect, and without a national feeling…
Whoever supports the occupation and beautifies its image, does not belong to Iraq…
Even if they carry an Iraqi name, even if they carry an Iraqi nationality… for these are no longer the norms…
Your heart; where does it lie? What kind is it?
I have seen Americans who have hearts that feel sad about Iraq, feeling its wound, and eyes that cry for Iraq. They had hearts more Iraqi than others, whose owners carry Iraqi names, and an Iraqi nationality, but they think of nothing but the dollar. Others who sold everything for the dollar…
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When I first went to Washington, I asked an Iraqi man living there: Where is the Iraqi community? Why do we go to churches to talk about Iraq, but do not meet with our brothers to talk about Iraq?
He said: It is better for you not to see them.
I asked, wondering: Why?
He said, laughing: Most of them supported the war on Iraq, they worked as contractors with the American army, and built palaces and tall buildings in Washington.
I remained astonished, unbelieving…
Then, in about a month, I went to Miami… I had a meeting program with the Muslim community there.
The Imam of one mosque in northern Miami phoned me. He introduced himself, being from a well-known family in Karbala'a, then advised me not to talk tomorrow about the actions of the American administration, or the occupation army in Iraq. Because those Iraqis who will attend the lecture tomorrow, most of whom are businessmen, lived here for thirty or forty years. He was afraid they would be annoyed, and your talk might affect their business; so, please, just talk about the people's suffering from the lack of water and electricity…
I said; but I have been in Washington, New York, Los Angelos, and San Francisco, and I spoke frankly with Americans; Jews and Christians, and most of them were sympathetic, apologizing, with their eyes shedding tears for Iraq, how can I change my speech fearing for the sentiments of Iraqi businessmen who think only of themselves and their interest? What would be the point of meeting them?
He said: perhaps they plan to give you donations, I mean- don't bother them, lest they should decide not to pay these donations.
I said, my voice rising: And who told you we came to ask them for donations? Who told you the Iraqis inside want dollars from you?
I laughed, I don't know whether from astonishment, or anger.
I told him: Listen, my dear, let me be honest with you; I will not attend tomorrow's meeting. I won't bother you, and you won't bother me. It seems we will not get along.
He said: No, don't be like this. You know- we should humor them, for they are also Iraqi brothers.
I said: And what is still left of their Iraqi-ness? Do they carry an American nationality?
He said: Yes..
: well then; are they persistent attendants of the mosque, I mean- are they Muslims?
He said: No, they do not pray, and they do not fast.
And I told him: Well then, my dear, what is the point of my visit, and meeting them? There are no common points between me and these people. They will be bothered by seeing me and listening to my speech. And I will not be honored by meeting these people, who have no nationality, no religion, and do not belong to Iraq. What is the point of meeting them?
I apologized, and his voice kept ringing in my ears after I put down the phone: Think about it, come tomorrow…
................
I didn't go…
Was I excessive?
Or did my sadness for Iraq, for what the people are suffering there, and my anger for them, deter me from going?
I do not know…
But there was no wish whatsoever to go and see this type of so-called Iraqis.
What would be the dialogue language between us?
I said to myself: These, will come to Iraq one day, after Iraq is liberated from the occupation, GOD Willing, and say: we are your brothers, by God, our hearts are with you, we want to make business because we love Iraq and the Iraqis. Our hears were always with you, and while we were away in the foreign lands, we thought about you, and Lab,… Lab,… Lab,…
That is what the hypocrites and the opportunists usually do; when you are weak, they abandon you, denying their knowing you. And when you succeed and radiate, they come forward, smiling, adulating, to shake your hand, and pat you on the shoulder.
They are ugly creatures, provoking revulsion and contempt in the soul of every human who owns an iota of dignity…
Oh, my God…
How many wonders I saw in the last two months?
All these are experiences; eye-openers, which grant the mind and heart light, and vastness.
And Thank GOD any way........


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Good evening.
I put pictures now on the link of
www.picturesinbaghdad.blogspot.com
about our tour in the States ( from March to May 2006 )
wish , in the next time, I will put pictures from Baghdad, from my lovely house there.
my heart still in Baghdad, dreaming day and night to go back home.
we are in Amman now..
all my best
faiza