by Bee Rowlatt
Our area was once one of the posh ones in Baghdad. But it has been rather damaged by events…
Not much to celebrate at the moment in Baghdad. We’ve received threats describing Shi’ites as dirty dogs and telling them to evacuate the district and leave their homes. I have an email copy that is in Arabic. I also have a list of the names of the university teachers who have been killed or kidnapped. One of my colleagues is on the list. He was in the room next to mine, and we shared a love of animals. He used to bring me poems about all sorts of pets, and we enjoyed reading them together. I still have the copies that he gave me.
A threat has reached university teachers and students – which I also have a copy of, but in Arabic – warning them to stop attending lectures or be classified as enemies and as followers of the Shi’ites of Iran. The warning, or rather the threat, says that all who do attend the university are known and will be pursued, even to their homes, and killed in their beds. On the other hand, the prime minister threatens to sack anyone who does not go to work. So for God’s sake, what are we supposed to do?
Bee, the things I prepared for you are ready. They are simple things that I managed to gather. I couldn’t go to the shop that sells the Arabic outfit and am very sorry. In the package you will find two silver rings for you and Zola. There is also a silver-plated necklace for Eva, and amber cufflinks for Justin. There is also a necklace for you, a wooden box with the map of Iraq on it, a nightdress, a pair of Indian slippers and a draft copy of my MA thesis. I am also sending a sexy black headscarf, which some (not very devout!) Moslem women wear. I will also get you this sweet thing you like, the baklava, so you can have it at Christmas. That is, of course, if I can find Andrew again.
Have to go now… May XXXXX
08.12.06
Christmas sparkle
MAY, oooh I can’t wait to get your gifts of exotic things.
Yes, Christmas is very nearly here now; there are sparkly lights all over the place. We’ve been playing Christmas music and the girls go mad with excitement. This morning was the Christmas show at school and the girls sang their hearts out. I could see them opening their mouths as wide as they could and really singing with all their concentration. It brought tears to my eyes.
When Eva went to bed the other night she asked me, ‘How old is God?’ So I tried to put on a thoughtful face and said, ‘Probably quite old.’ She asked if I believed in him and I said, ‘No, not really, but lots of other people do.’ She said that she had decided to believe in God. She looked quite pleased with herself. Their school is secular with a wide ethnic mix of children so I don’t know how she arrived at her belief. Maybe it is because of Christmas. I want to protect her magic and her innocence of the world by letting her believe in anything she wants.
I still remember as a child being convinced that all animals could speak, but that they chose not to. How do we lose these ideas? Do they fade away or suddenly stop? Christmas in particular reminds me of the intensity of childhood. It’s almost agony when you are waiting for Christmas day and every moment is laden with symbolic importance.
On a horrible note, May, I think you have to get out of Baghdad. I think it will get a lot worse. I truly have a deep horror that one day your emails will just stop and I won’t know what happened to you. It’s too awful. What if you stayed in Iraq, but went to a calmer place than Baghdad?
By the way, how long were you in Glasgow for? Did I tell you I did my first degree at Glasgow University, and am still very fond of the place?
Take care, May.
Lots of love
Bee XXX
09.12.06
Growing up in Glasgow
Hi, Bee
At last I talked to Andy. I will be sending him the things within a couple of days because the driver who collects the stuff will not be free for another two days. We exchanged emails and now we can communicate more easily.
I’m sending you some documents and a newspaper clipping that talks about the death of one of the people who helped me survive all the misery of my previous marriage. I feel so sorry for him, but no one can reverse time. I’m writing to you with the sound of bombs and guns roaring all over the area. It seems that members of al-Mahdi militias are trying to gain control over our district.
As for your questions regarding my stay in the UK, well, in 1971 (after my father’s death) my mother took us to Glasgow to study for her PhD, and she obtained her degree from Strathclyde University. Before settling in Glasgow I attended two state schools in London. The first was in Shepherd’s Bush but I can’t remember the name (because I didn’t know much English at the time) and the second school was called Mayfield. We lived in Wandsworth SW18, very near to Wandsworth Common. After nine months in London we moved to Glasgow. At first we lived in a place called Barhead near some other place called Paisley. I also attended school there, but only for a very short time because we moved to Glasgow itself, where I sat my ‘O’ Levels.
I wonder, Bee, would this information help me get to England? I so wish it could. As for the reason that I cannot go out of the capital, well, we are a mixed family, which makes it difficult. I can’t go to a Sunni area because my family is Shi’ite, but on the other hand I can’t go to a Shi’ite area because my mother and husband and also my sister-in-law are Sunnis. So you see, I’m hated by both groups.
Did you receive the cards I sent you and the girls via email? I hope you like them.
Love you.
May XXXX
15.12.06
How annoying are men?
Morning, May!
Oh God, last night Justin did the most annoying thing ever. We went to a quite posh dinner party at his cousin Xand’s house, full of people I have never met before. The conversation turned to plastic surgery and things like breast implants and face lifts and so on. Justin was sitting a few people away, and he turned and boomed, ‘Oh Bee, you’ve had that face thing done, haven’t you!?’ by which he meant that I did a face pack with my friend Amy a few weeks ago. All cosmetic stuff is a mystery to him, I suppose.
So I clumsily denied it and there was a strained silence while everyone naturally assumed that I must indeed have had surgery. After a pause one of the men turned to Justin and cheerily said, ‘Well, you’re in trouble later on, aren’t you!’ and everyone laughed, ‘Oh, hahaha!’ and I was boiling! How can men be so stupid sometimes?
Take care, dear May.
Bee XXX
17.12.06
Annoying men
Hello to you, Bee
Yes, dear. Men are annoying because they can be so thoughtless about what women regard as sensitive subjects. A similar thing happened to me. Once, when my late husband was just back from Libya with some dollars, I thought that maybe I could pamper myself by going to a dermatologist because I had greasy skin and the hot sun caused some dark blotches.
He gave me the money for the first time, but when my second appointment was due he totally refused. In the evening we went to his mother’s and all his sisters were there, and do you know what he said? ‘Mother, your daughter-in-law wants to have cosmetic surgery. I think she is passing through her second adolescence.’ Everyone laughed at me and started giving advice about the risks of such surgery, and reassuring me that I was nice looking etc. You can imagine how I felt at the time.
Don’t think too much of it. This is how nature designed them. Just tell him calmly that you were annoyed and that you’d expect to be hurt by anybody, but never by him. Maybe this will make him more understanding.
Still haven’t been to work for the past two weeks. I am scared of the threats but I must go in tomorrow, first because they called me and second because I have to get my salary. I was preparing a lecture on democracy last night, and thought how funny it was when I read about legitimate governments. The article says if legitimacy fails then it will turn into chaos. And that is exactly what we have.
Give the girls a big hug and a kiss from Aunt May, regards to Justin and lots of love for you.
Ma
y XX
19.12.06
Frosty hello
Hi, May
Your former in-laws sound horrific. Thankfully Justin isn’t cruel, just a bit daft sometimes, so I wasn’t really upset for long. And although he has a huge family and it’s quite overwhelming, at least they are all nice individually.
I hope you got into work safely. I am going to a work party tonight. I haven’t seen lots of my colleagues for a long time; I can’t wait to go off into that separate world again. I get a bit nervous having been out of it for a while. I try not to do the unforgivable thing of yakking on about my kids in a professional environment. (I’ve noticed how if a man has a screensaver of his baby on his computer it’s ‘Aahh, so cute!’ but with a woman somehow less so.)
Tomorrow is the last day of school before the Christmas holidays so you can imagine the excitement that is building up. Yesterday I wandered around Camden and did a bit of shopping to get some sparkly things for the girls and a sweet little fluffy dress for Elsa.
It is suddenly extremely cold and frosty outside, and it’s very beautiful. In the back garden I have a few bird-feeding devices hanging on the apple tree, and from where I’m sitting I can see several small birds eating the peanuts. Isn’t it wonderful to have changing seasons?
See you later, May. Take care.
All my love
Bee XX
21.12.06
Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr…
A very frosty hello to you too!
Bee, you are right that the changing seasons are beautiful, but here in Baghdad we have such extremes that require us to be properly armed against them. But what can we do? Now it is freezing cold, but with electricity scarce it is almost impossible to have hot water for a shower, let alone washing clothes. Cleanliness and hygiene have become a luxury. I don’t mind boiling the kettle to wash the dishes but I will never accept washing clothes without a washing machine. The other day the most dreadful thing happened – the electricity came on and I put the dirty clothes in the machine but, as usual, I was fooled. Just as I started the program and stood back to watch the machine fill with water, the electricity went off. I can’t use the generator to work the washing machine because it takes up so much electricity, so the clothes remained locked in there for three days! I had to empty it and rewash all the clothes, adding disinfectants to get rid of the bad smell.
Anyway, today is one of those celebrated days when we have been blessed with electricity after three days with nothing. I was so excited about the idea of a hot shower to warm myself up that I hurried to switch on the boiler, waited for an hour for it to heat up, then turned on the water motor and went into the bathroom, singing happily to myself. I mixed the water to the right temperature and stood under the heavenly spray. But, before I could blink, I was lashed with boiling water – the electricity had gone off, cutting the water motor and leaving me with only the hot water. Six times the water went hot and cold and I had to get out to fix things. By the time I’d dried myself and run to the hairdryer, the power had gone. It seems that democracy is contagious. The electricity current may have thought it was part of democracy to come and go as it pleases!
Happy Christmas to you and Justin and the lovely girls.
Love
Mayxxx
25.12.06
A big hug to you on Christmas day
MAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYY!
Right now I am wearing your black headscarf, the necklace and your lovely ring, and I just can’t believe it. I feel so moved. We opened your huge bag of things last of all, after all the other presents. Justin’s mum and dad were here too and they thought it was amazing when they heard the story of my friendship with you. (You should have seen Justin’s dad’s face when I pulled out the leopard-print nightie and tiny knickers, haha!) Justin’s cufflinks are a wonderful gift; what an honour it is to have some things from you and your family. I’ll write a long letter about today soon but I just had to tell you about all this. And I can’t wait to read your thesis. B XXXXXXX
27.12.06
Post-Christmas hello
Hi again, May
Christmas day was so lovely. Justin’s lovely dad secretly built the girls a huge wooden doll’s house in his workshop (he stayed up all night finishing it), and we got tiny furniture and things to go in it. The girls were suitably impressed. It brought back memories of my doll’s house when I was little; I made a library of miniature books but the house was occupied by small animals.
So on Christmas morning we had a big breakfast then went out for a walk over the Heath, ending in a SWIM in the pond! Yes, it was freezing but extremely funny. Lots of people do it as a festive tradition and it’s a great atmosphere. After that we came home, lit a big fire and opened up all the presents. As I told you, we opened yours last as I was most excited about them. I’ve told everyone so much about you, and so we were dying to see what you’d sent.
Yesterday, Boxing day, we took the girls for a long walk on the Heath but had a big argument halfway round (about nothing, like all the worst ones). My friend Talia has pointed out that every time we have a huge row it is precisely a month since the last one, and it’s always when I have PMT. She is right, much as I hate to admit it. I am so bloated, May. Oh my goodness, those baklava you sent are delicious; I’ve tried not to eat too many. I’m managing to save the bottom layer for New Year’s Eve.
I can’t tell you how nice it is to read your thesis and the letter that was attached. You’re right, it’s as though you are much more real. All those gifts were in your house and now they are in my house, as if to prove that we don’t live in separate worlds. I felt like some Baghdad air may have seeped out from the packaging; from your home into mine.
Anyway, I have sent you some more dollars and some photos of me and the girls, and some pictures and messages from them to you. Eva in particular keeps asking about you.
Actually, May, you have become famous among all my friends. I have talked about you such a lot and now we all worry about you.
I hope you’re OK, May. Do write me a letter as I want to know what you’ve been doing. Are you OK?
Lots of love
B XX
27.12.06
The extremists are here
Hi, Bee
I knew you’d be worried. But we’ve had no internet connection for the past few days. We are physically OK. But our area has been occupied by the Islamic extremists. We don’t know what to do.
Ali was out buying cigarettes and bread the other day when a stranger shouted at him that smoking was sinful and that he had to put his cigarette out. Then this person shouted in a loud voice that any woman seen without a head cover or with make-up on would be beheaded. Of course, this applies to me as I don’t put a scarf on and I do wear make-up and drive to work, but I will not bow to this bullying. I will not let them turn me into a big wobbly bin bag, no matter what. What can one expect from people who interfere and even try to impose the type of toilets a man should install in his home? These extremists insist that people do not use western toilets (because they think these are not clean enough to be used by a Moslem). The eastern type have no seats; they are just white porcelain holes in the ground. A person has to crouch in order to use them, and the water flush comes through a metal or plastic tube connected to a small tank hung high on the wall.
I expect the next few days will be pregnant with events. We feel a mixture of fear, anticipation and anxiety. News reports say that S.H. has been handed over to the Iraqi authorities. This doesn’t sound good, but we’ll have to wait and see. Watching TV and waiting is all we do now, since we can’t even go outside. OK, my love, I will have to go now. Happy New Year in advance, dear Bee.
May xxx
27.12.06
RE: The extremists are here
May, now I’m even more worried about you. I hate the extremists, I hate them, I don’t want them near you. I’ve been glued to the news and I can’t believe what I’m seeing. Please just send me a few short lines to tell me you’re still
there.
Worried
B XXX
2007
01.01.07
The Old Man is dead
Dearest friend
Happy New Year to you and all the family. I’m sorry I couldn’t write over the past few days because they’ve been quite extraordinary. We are in a state of shock. You must have heard about the execution. We were awakened by the sound of helicopters flying at low altitude at 5 a.m. We’ve just been switching from one TV channel to the other.
Now that the Old Man is dead, I expect it will get worse. You probably didn’t know that the day of his execution was a Moslem feast and greatly honoured by Moslems all over the world. On such a day Moslems butcher or slaughter sheep and cows, or whatever animal may be eaten (not pigs), and distribute the meat to the poor and needy. So the Old Man was butchered in a symbolic way.
This timing is not in the new government’s favour. It changed his image in the eyes of the people from that of a dictator and a brutal killer into a martyr who was sacrificed, and a scapegoat for the occupiers and their collaborators. But to tell you the truth, I was impressed by his unprecedented courage in meeting his death.
Gunfire is rumbling all over the area. The militias have come to occupy our district again, and the residents have gone out to defend it. The villas in our area are considered a very tasty meal for the looters, and also for the militias, because many of the residents were well off before the war. Now there are many newcomers, mostly Islamic extremists and I expect a lot of violence to come.
Bee. Please, please, please advise me what I should do. As for Ali, and all the other men in the district who are Sunnis, they are afraid to go out because of the brutal militias and Islamic extremists. So we both have good reason to fear for our lives. We are terrified and have decided we should try to get out and seek asylum. What do we need? The only evidence Ali has is his passport, which has expired and which he can’t renew at present.
