‘Poor turkey’, I said.
‘We didn’t want to eat it,’ she said, ‘but we have to have a bird for Christmas, and anyway, she hasn’t been laying eggs for two months.’ Needless to say, none of us ate that miserable turkey – Salvi got the bones. He has two drawers full of bones in my freezer. The UNESCO representative was also at the lunch and said that in prior years his friends would drop by for drinks but now no one comes. They cannot afford to return his hospitality. He has been in Baghdad for four years, so he can see the difference.
My tyres were getting flat so on the way home I went to put air in them. The garage attendant asked why I’d let them get so low. I said, ‘Because I’ve been ferrying a car full of women.’
‘Tell them to go on a diet,’ he replied, with a huge laugh.
The telephone lines are frozen. One spends one’s time yelling ‘hello’ and not getting anywhere.
26 December
I’ve been noticing something that one would never have seen before the embargo: middle-class people, not badly off, their sheer nylon stockings showing little mends. I have given four of my tights to Ma to darn, not sheer ones but the thick, coloured, woollen ones. The nicest thing about winter is that one can have coloured legs.
Ma went today to Ghassan’s funeral. She said that by the time they’d butchered the sheep, half of it had already been stolen! Sacks of flour and sugar were being pilfered – nothing is sacred any more. Everyone has to bring foodstuffs to funerals to help out the bereaved family. In these hard times nobody can afford to feed the visitors who come to pay their respects, or even to feed the poor as one is supposed to.
3 January 1995 – Baghdad
Lunch at Salima’s. Loma was telling me about her university classes; she teaches computer studies. She has sixty students. They have no paper and no pencils. They write on the backs of receipts, pharmacy bills, account books, anything that has a blank side to it. The university does not supply her with paper to photocopy the exams, so she has to write the exam on the blackboard; those at the back cannot see it so when the ones in front have copied the questions, those at the back move to the front. There are only ten working computers, so they take turns on the machines. Some students even do alternate years at the university as their parents cannot afford to pay for their studies. They work for a year and then come back to study for a year – a lot of them fail on purpose so that they don’t have to go into the army.
6 January
At dinner tonight, Suha told us of a conversation overheard by a friend at a wedding. They were standing in line at the buffet table, which had a whole lot of cats lurking underneath it. ‘Piss off, cats,’ the lady in front of her said. ‘There’s hardly any meat for us, let alone bones for you.’ Assia told me that her chickens have taken to committing suicide by throwing themselves into the swimming pool. The first drowned chicken was thrown into the river, the second likewise. Then Assia thought of cooking these chickens for the dog, so as the third drowned chicken was being cooked, her mother walked in and said, ‘No wonder you’ve been sick these past few days, if you’ve been eating chicken not killed by halal.’* Assia told her that it was for the dog and that he’s not a Muslim – but her mother wasn’t convinced.
13 January
For the first time, Friday the 13th has brought me bad luck. Just opened the boot of the car to remove some bones for Salvi (a present from Tawadud), to find my two empty beer crates, the spare tyre and the jack gone. The thieves obviously don’t have a dog, otherwise they would have taken Salvi’s bones too. On the other hand, I was lucky they didn’t steal the car. Good thing I had the steering lock. Maybe I wasn’t so unlucky after all. Story going around Baghdad about two women who were kidnapped, raped, ransomed, burnt with cigarette butts and then dumped naked but alive. They are both semi-crazed and in hospital.
The embargo has been renewed.
14 January
Abu Ali is going to take me to the thieves’ market on Friday to buy a spare tyre. There’s no point in buying a new one in case of another theft. Sol and I went and had a picnic lunch in Sippar with Munir and Ismail. The guard dogs are skin and bones, even though they bring them bones every time they come out to the site. Their dig budget is virtually non-existent. There’s not enough money to pay for the guards and dog food.
15 January
I found my dentist, what a relief. I’ve had two filling emergencies on the same tooth; the first fell out in two days, the second gave me swollen gums and also fell out. I wonder if the materials were out of date. Amal could not find her proper dentist (telephones being what they are) and had to go to a dentist who was a relative. He smashed her teeth up so badly that one got loose and she was frightened of swallowing it at night. She has now found, and returned to, her original dentist.
Ma and Needles’ telephone has been out of order. Needles said that the telephone wire was lying out in the street. They finally had it repaired and now they seem to have a joint line with an Umm Hussein who talks the whole time. There is also an added crackle and buzz.
Suha has bars on all the windows of her workshop, and when she went there today she found that the whole electricity board had been stolen – the only thing outside the shop! Ahmed (who works in the same building) was with patients when his electricity went out, so he lit candles, being well prepared. Later, when he went to check, he found that the fuses of the entire building had been stolen. They are very expensive to buy, but so easy to lift.
There is talk of medals being handed out on 17 January for the celebrations of Army Day. How can we get everything so ass-backwards? Ma said, ‘like camel’s pee’, which apparently does go backwards. I remember an article many years ago that described Yemen as charging full speed ahead from the fourteenth into the twentieth century. We are doing exactly the opposite. I’m so depressed these days, in the depths of gloom and despair, even my beloved palm trees seem lifeless. Poor Sol came all cheerful and full of strength but by the time she left, all her energy had been drained.
18 January
Went to my dentist. He told me that in the old days he would charge 20 dinars for a filling, his actual costs came to 4 dinars and he would pocket 16 dinars. With that he could buy five chickens. Now a filling costs 1,250 dinars and his profit is 400 dinars, which would just buy him a chicken leg. He cannot afford to travel anywhere. Doctors and engineers have to pay a million-dinar guarantee to ensure their return; some mortgage their houses to get permission to leave.
Salvi has disappeared; now Blackie sleeps on his blanket. Abu Ali said that Salvi came back at noon, wagged his tail, saw I wasn’t there and went off again.
19 January
Assia and I have decided to import donkeys from Yemen – there are hundreds of donkeys out of work in the Hadhramawt, all waiting for a job. I saw them there last year. According to Assia, all our cars will be incapacitated and beyond repair in a few years’ time – the assumption being that the embargo will not be lifted for some years (our Tarot card readings don’t agree with that). We will then be car-less, and bikes and donkeys will be the ideal and popular solution. So we had better start importing them now before donkey prices soar. We are importing second-hand tyres from Jordan; they’re already worn down by the time they get here. Few people have spares, and one frequently sees cars propped up on bricks while they go off to repair the punctured tyre. They come back to find more parts missing from their cars.
21 January
A Dutch producer phoned me today; he had read my Baghdad diaries, phoned Sol and told her he wanted to make a documentary on Iraqi artists. ‘Are you working on any art?’ he asked me.
I said, ‘I barely have time, between mending my car, fixing my teeth, repairing the loo and generally rushing around like a headless chicken.’ He seemed interested anyway. It would be fun and a change.
Salvi has been away for two days; Majeed has seen him and fed him. Today I saw him – great rejoicing on his part even though he was limping from a thorn in his foot. He ate h
is food and rushed off to some dog corner in the orchard where they’re all having an orgy. The bloody guys mending the water tank for the Italians who are renting Dood’s house have drained all the water out, even after I told them that the tanks of the two houses were connected. Stupid twits. I was in the shower covered with soap when the taps ran dry, first the hot and then the cold. I came out frozen solid.
25 January
Hamdiya said to me in a coy way, ‘I asked Majeed, why don’t you beat me?’
I said, ‘Are you crazy? Why do you want him to beat you?’
She said, ‘He’s cross with me now and won’t speak to me because I asked him that question. All my sisters-in-law get beaten by their husbands.’ She then added, ‘But I was only joking. If he beat me I would commit suicide.’ She has a funny way of flirting with that poor husband of hers.
John Lancaster, a correspondent with the Washington Post, came to dinner. I’ve never met him before. I said, ‘Would you like to meet a bunch of women?’
‘Absolutely,’ he said. So we had Ma and Needles, Amal, Suha, Assia and myself – six women in all. I must say, he did quite well. He got an earful. ‘Good for me,’ he said.
The major topic of conversation was whether Iraq could be divided. We all agreed on the following: that Iraq is situated at a crossroads, that all Iraqis are of mixed blood – Kurdish, Turkish, Persian – and of different religions – Sunna and Shi‘a, Christians and Yezidis – and that this diverse group has been living fairly amicably together for centuries. How can they now divide us?
26 January
A mended typewriter. Salvi off again for two days. Abu Ali, from his vantage point mending the roof, saw five different groups of dogs running around yesterday – some party they must be having. It’s a relief not to have him around while doing building repairs. He would not have allowed anyone to function properly. While Salvi is out enjoying his dog life, 90 percent of the human population of Iraq are ill with some kind of flu, fever or allergy. Our paranoia is so strong that we all believe that a bug has been introduced into our environment by the USA. We don’t believe in natural viruses or flu epidemics any more. I think that all Iraqis suffer from Gulf War Syndrome.
We’ve had no electricity since 5 p.m. yesterday afternoon, the fault not from the house but from the street. When the maintenance people came, they stood outside the gate and said, ‘Where’s the dog?’
‘Why?’ I asked, ‘do you know him?’
‘Do we know him?’ they replied. ‘If he’s here we’re not coming in.’ That Salvi has some reputation. I assured them of his absence.
I forgot to pass on to Sol my latest medicinal advice for Doc Q when she phoned last night. Apparently the steam from boiling turnips helps asthma sufferers breathe better – we are experimenting with Umm Raad, who has bad asthma.
Terrible rumours circulating around Baghdad about the ultimate fate of the people involved in the recent attempted coup. Their leader was apparently tied to a horse and dragged around the parade grounds; the others were thrown to starving dogs, trained to maul.
One sees the strangest people begging these days – embarrassed hands stretched out by very respectable-looking people – one knows they must be desperate. They can’t make ends meet, no matter how hard they work; salaries are so low.
27 January
Kiko phoned at seven in the morning to wish me a happy birthday. We had a super long conversation, that made my day. I told him that we were going to Suha’s house in the country – a pack of women instead of a pack of dogs, with a few token straggler chaps. Sure enough, a few bods and an Eric from Austria showed up – very diplomatic and polite to the ladies, with a special word for each one.
For the third day no Salvi. Everyone feeling a bit sick. Is there something in the air?
28 January
Salvi came back, battered but jubilant – his leg seems to be busted. I tied him up for a few hours but he howled non-stop, his eyes longingly on the orchard. Finally I turned him loose and he rushed off in a hobble.
Every day someone else’s house is robbed. Ma insists that I put bars on my kitchen doors, which are just glass. I said, what’s the point? They’re lifting doors in their entirety.
30 January
Invited to a tea party at the Rashid Hotel. It wasn’t what we thought it was going to be – a diplomats’ wives charity benefit, whatever that may mean. There were hardly any Iraqis present, a few from the foreign office, us pack of girls from the Suleikh, Selwa and a whole lot of ambassadors. There wasn’t anything for sale, there was some music, a few national dances and booths showing ethnic wares. Met the Pole – quite dapper. Got a lovely belt made from shells from the Philippines stall. Isabel was there – she’s still trying to solve the environmental problems of this country by planting trees from different countries. She’s working with Hussein Kamel* and thinks he’s great – they let her do her thing and she’s impressed with that. Why not? Anything that comes for free from the outside world is worth a try as far as the government is concerned.
31 January
John came to say goodbye. He has gone to the brewery and seen that all the vats have been marked for specific use by the UN inspection team, yeast on the yeast vat, etc.
Salvi returned like a soldier broken by the wars, dragging his feet behind him and limping with his front leg. He is filthy, and eats and sleeps not in his usual place but with an eye on any activity by the front gate.
Went with Ferri and Ramzi for the day on their farm outside Baghdad. Ferri spent the war there. She said the missiles would come very low over the farm and then arch and rise to hit their targets. Guided missiles, I said. On the way back we passed by the baby-milk factory that got bombed as a chemical warfare factory – all repaired and working again as a milk factory.
The 250-dinar note was issued and instantly withdrawn from use. It is rumoured that a whole pile of them were stolen and the only way to find the thieves is to withdraw them from circulation until the culprits are caught. If anyone gives you a 250 note, refuse to take it, say the rumour mills. I should think that the government is just scared that prices will skyrocket even more. The dinar will reach 1,000 to the dollar, I’m sure of it. (In January 1996 the dinar rose to 3,000 to the dollar, then settled at under 1,000.)
Our Muhammad has been going to the dentistry school to be fitted with a new set of false teeth. One set is free on the government if you allow students of dentistry to practise on you. For the last three weeks he has been going there; they look into his mouth, take a cast, fiddle about and say come back next week. Yesterday he came back with a new set of teeth in place. They look like a great pile of white tombstones. Every time he opens his mouth they get in the way. He said it will take a lot of getting used to.
4 February
That is what my lovely David Hockney calendar says. Mount Fuji with flowers. My telephone is out of order again. I am totally isolated in my ivory tower, though I could talk to my typewriter. I’m cooking dinner for a party tomorrow. Yesterday evening we went to the Alwiyah Club and heard a talk given by Dr Kamal Samara’i, the first Iraqi gynaecologist. During question time a man asked him how he had coped with the conservatism of women, and how he had given them check-ups. His answer was that some would pick up their abbas* and flee at the very mention of a physical examination. Those who stayed were told it would be half-price. Some accepted the bargain, saying their fate was now in God’s hands; others would ask for a divorce after the examination, saying that otherwise he could not have given them a check-up. Did they think that they became the property of the man who touched them? Very odd.
While he was an intern, my great-uncle Sa’ib was the chief surgeon and head of that hospital. The day that King Ghazi died, he was called on to check the body for the death certificate. He confided to Dr Kamal that he did not think that the hit on the head was in the right place for the way the king’s car had crashed into the pole. He was sure that the British were responsible for his death. Ma also got up and
said that her uncle had told her the same story and that he was convinced it was not a natural crash or a suicide; he had not wanted to sign the death certificate at all. She also thanked Dr Kamal for saving her life after she had delivered Dood. She had such a high temperature that she was burning up and dying; he packed her in ice and she recovered. Some fever!
11 February
Medhat had to go and have a hernia operation at the government nursing hospital. He arrived and was put on a filthy dirty sponge mattress. ‘You have to bring your own sheets,’ said the nurse.
The heater was dead in his freezing cold room. ‘We don’t have spare parts to mend it,’ said the nurse, ‘you have to bring your own.’ There were no bulbs in the light fixtures. ‘The patients take them,’ said the nurse, ‘you have to bring your own.’ At lunchtime a large nurse comes round the ward swinging a big ladle in her hand. ‘Where’s your plate?’ she asked poor old Medhat. ‘You have to provide your own.’
‘Why don’t you tell us all this before we come in so that we come supplied?’ asked Medhat (who loves eating). ‘Do you mean to say that I won’t get anything to eat now?’
‘Well,’ she said, ‘this time I’ll give you your lunch on a tray.’ They get boiled rice with a bit of tomato sauce mixed with a few chickpeas, and for dinner boiled rice soup – so much for service in a two-person suite. That night his room companion got terrible cramps (something was wrong with his blood circulation) and he began ranting and raving, so Medhat had to go and search for a doctor. After much wandering he found a nurse who told him that there was no doctor on night duty – only the main hospital ten minutes’ walk away had a doctor in attendance. She added that no one would come out on such a freezing night as this. ‘Tell him to stand up on his feet and get the blood going, walk him a bit,’ she said.
Baghdad Diaries Page 8
