Talking About Jane Austen in Baghdad

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Talking About Jane Austen in Baghdad Page 8

by Bee Rowlatt


  Oh, I remembered something else. You know that my country is a man’s world and there are things that women cannot possibly do. During that period my car broke down, just before my last trip to Amman. I begged my brother to fix it for me, and he did nothing. At this point I called Ali and told him that I accepted his proposal of marriage, and would bear all the consequences and family conflicts that I assumed would take place.

  He came to Baghdad and we got married. It was a surprise to everybody, even ourselves.

  Love you… May XXXX

  08.01.07

  The stories of our lives, continued

  May, I love that story. I’ve read it a few times now. You are a brave person; I admire you. You have faced such odds, and taken decisions alone and unsupported.

  In my case I am lucky to say that I’ve had nothing but support and love from my mother all my life. I had no father (he lives in Germany) and I don’t know if that’s why, but I did go a bit mad as a teenager. I idolized my absent father and was horrible to my mum. I went away to be a dancer – yes, I was a showgirl! Glitter, large plumes, high heels, all that. I had trained in ballet for many years and done all the exams, and then when school ended, instead of going straight to university I came down to London and did all these weird auditions. In the end I got a job with a dance troupe at a theatre out in the Canary Islands.

  I was 19. I stepped off the plane with no idea of what I was letting myself in for. I didn’t even speak a word of Spanish. Knowing what I know now, I wouldn’t encourage my daughters to be professional dancers. They all had low self-esteem even though they were beautiful, and many were anorexic. There was a bullying atmosphere, and the captain was a revolting pig. Once in rehearsals he forced me to go through a dance holding big ashtrays in my hands (on my own, in front of the whole company). He hated my ‘balletic’ arms. He even shoved me once when we were onstage.

  But I was looked after by a kind dancer called Debbie. She was old for a showgirl (in fact she was only 24 or 25, but that seemed old at the time!) and we called her Aunty Debbie. I could tell you so many adventures from that time, it was my coming of age and also a period of personal glory for me; I felt I had created my own independent life. I read Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s Aurora Leigh and felt that I too was a woman stamping her mark in foreign climes! It was gruelling but also a triumph. I still dream about it, and when I wake I feel a strong nostalgia.

  After the year of dancing I started at Glasgow University. Only two years later I couldn’t bear the endless dark weather and sideways rain (remember that?) and I ran away again, this time even further, to Colombia. It was supposed to be a ‘year out’ from my studies but it became two years as I loved the place so much. I had a completely charmed life. I don’t know if you’ve read any magical realism or Gabriel García Márquez, but let me tell you magical realism is just everyday life in Colombia: delirious beauty, generosity and violence.

  I returned (again, reluctantly) to finish my degree at Glasgow and after that I started working at the BBC. I’ve been there ever since, apart from time off having the babies. But even then I did a Masters in political economy, as I was worried that my head would become babyfied and I’d only talk about nappies.

  May, there’s one thing that really bothers me about your emails. I don’t want to sound insensitive, but I just can’t believe the stories you tell me of how parents treat their children. Did Ali’s dad really attack him? How is it possible for someone to love their baby and nurture them as they grow up, only to reject them like that? I can’t believe it, that the bonds or laws of society/religion overrule those of familial love so completely. I am incapable of doing anything other than just loving my children, I don’t care what they do. If Eva wanted to marry a murderer I hope I would at least try to understand her point of view.

  I am shocked by your family, and by Ali’s even more so. They should learn a lesson from the Montagues and the Capulets. I hope you don’t mind me saying that.

  I wonder what it would have been like if you had stayed here, and never gone back to Iraq… We might have met… Idle thoughts…

  Good night, dear May!

  Love and hugs, Bee XX

  10.01.07

  Legal situation

  May, are you OK? I’m worried about you with Baghdad in chaos like this. And I hope I haven’t offended you with my comments on family relations in Iraq?

  I have just spoken to a lawyer about the possibility of coming here and it is very bad. First of all you definitely cannot apply for asylum from Iraq, you have to do it here. But it is illegal to come here without it. Which forces anyone who is seeking asylum to break the law straight away. Most are held in detention centres while their applications are considered.

  The lawyer told me that few Iraqis are coming here and, of those, many are being rejected. She has just dealt with an Iraqi whose case was rejected and he was sent back home again. The reason given by the courts was that, although Baghdad is dangerous, the man should have sought refuge somewhere safer within Iraq. This is called ‘internal flight’ and should be the first option for a refugee.

  If you can prove to the court that you are being persecuted by the state (showing documentary evidence) this will support your application. I asked her what if you are being persecuted not by the state but by paramilitary organizations? She said that in that case you would have to prove that the state has failed to protect you from that persecution, either because it didn’t want to or was unable to. When I pointed out that a failure of the state to protect you from persecution would mean you would probably already be dead, she said she was just telling me the law as it stands.

  May, I have never broken the law before, but I insist that if you really need to come here I will try to help you and Ali live here, illegally if you have to, until something else works out for you. So just keep that as an option.

  Write to me soon May – I’m missing you.

  Love

  Bee XXXX

  10.01.07

  The attacks are getting worse

  Dearest Bee

  Thank you so much for the effort and worry. Bee, it is getting worse. The government, which your lawyer says should protect the people, is filled with militias. Those in cooperation with the occupying forces will attack Sunni and mixed areas under the pretext of cleansing areas. I have made some contacts about acquiring new passports for Ali and me. I was informed that they cost $1,000. I managed most of the money but I am not sure if this will be of any use. I would gladly leave as soon as possible but it will take at least a month to get the new passports. Then I don’t know what is going to happen.

  As for the advice that we should go to other provinces, it is just the same wherever you go. As I told you, they are after university teachers and Sunnis. And if I was to be accepted in a Shi’ite area Ali would be rejected and vice versa.

  I enjoyed reading your story. I think we Librans are the same all over the world. We just can’t be easily satisfied. We have to try and try and once we find what we think is best we settle down quietly for some time.

  No, dear Bee, I was not offended by your comments, which are quite true. I will leave them for another email. You can’t imagine how close you are to my heart. But we have had no petrol for the generator and we’ve been without water, electricity and fuel for the heaters for the past week.

  Ali and I began to feel there might be hope on the horizon. We had decided to sit and wait for our fate. But with the small chance of an escape, hope flourished once again and we jumped up with joy and tears of happiness poured from our eyes. Oh Bee, I just can’t believe that it will ever be possible to get out of this inferno.

  I will be handing in the papers necessary for the new passports on Tuesday (I hope) and I have been told that it will take a month (with the bribe) to get them. I have managed to collect some newspapers that talk about militia operations and I also have a few documents stored in my email about my murdered colleagues, giving their names.

  So Bee, do you t
hink that when the passports are done we should leave for Damascus to try to get a plane from there? (There are no direct flights from here.) Or what? Unfortunately, Iraqis are seen as a plague wherever they go.

  May XX

  14.01.07

  Got your present from Andrew

  Dearest Bee

  I received your letter and the girls’ drawings, as well as the money, and I thank you very much. The driver picked them up from Andrew’s yesterday and brought them to me this afternoon.

  First of all, the photos are absolutely gorgeous and I love them. I’ve put them in frames and placed them on a book cabinet in the living room. The girls look very beautiful and intelligent and you are absolutely gorgeous.

  I specially liked Zola’s magical animal and Eva’s Xmas greetings. As for the chocolate, it is lovely. I hurried and made some Turkish coffee to go with it. Oh Bee, thank you. I have this feeling that we are family already. You know, I feel as if you are my younger sister abroad and the girls are just part of me. I read your letter and held it close to my heart and said maybe some day we will all meet.

  Ali was very sick last night and I couldn’t sleep well. Although he kept telling me to go back to sleep, I was so worried about him. I think he had food poisoning because he brought home frozen chicken liver (I hate it) and asked me to cook it for him. I didn’t eat it and so I’m OK. You know, I can’t trust the stores here any more because there is no electricity and of course they don’t keep the generators on all the time as fuel is expensive and scarce, and so frozen food is no longer safe to eat.

  I woke up this morning with one idea on my mind, and that was to get my hair cut. Ali went mad when I told him that I was going on my own, and so I wore a scarf on my head and no make-up, and drove to the hairdresser’s. The last time, he drove me there. We almost got killed by the militias and had to hide in a shop next to the hairdresser’s and it was awful. So I was brave today and went out on my own. Thank God nothing happened, and I got back safe and sound.

  I should be going to college tomorrow because my students have an exam. I’ll also be going on my own because it is more dangerous for Ali as a Sunni man to drive.

  I’ll go now.

  Love, kisses and hugs to you all

  May XXX

  16.01.07

  Hi, Bee

  Dearest Bee

  I went to university yesterday. It was calm all the way there, but trouble started on my way home. I noticed that there were a lot of armoured cars in our area, then a gunman pointed out to me that I should speed up and so I did.

  You’ll never believe what happened, Bee. As soon as I drove the car into our garage, several gunshots went off. I hurried inside and within about 10 minutes the area had turned into a battlefield. It was terrifying and went on for two and a half hours, then all went quiet. Everything stopped working. The electricity went off AGAIN. Oh by the way, our water tank already has two holes in it from a previous battle.

  This morning I had to go to work because there was another exam, and also I had promised to deliver the documents for the passports. I drove about 500 metres only to discover two bodies lying in the street. Can you imagine? I went hysterical and returned home immediately and called the department, asking them to examine the students without me. I sent the questions by text message.

  How are you and the family? I miss your emails.

  Love and kisses

  XXX May

  17.01.07

  Hello

  MAY! Hello, dearest

  It doesn’t really sound safe to go out. I don’t blame you for doing it as otherwise I’m sure you’ll go mad. But I wish you didn’t have to.

  I have more bad news – my friend who knows an immigration lawyer got information from her, and it is terrible. Basically you have almost no chance of doing it legally. She said this strictly in confidence. You have to decide if you could cope with being illegal here. It may be better, even though you would only be able to do horrible jobs, than being in Baghdad and fearing for your life.

  I was talking about it to Justin and he wondered whether it might be easier to get into another Arab country, like maybe Egypt. He said we would try to help you out financially if you did this. I told him what you said about it being intolerable in Jordan as Iraqis are not welcome. Really, you have to just consider it a survival strategy.

  Again I stress that we will still help you if you want to come illegally but read the lawyer’s email – I’ll forward it to you – and see what you think.

  I’ll write again soon.

  All my love

  Bee XXX

  17.01.07

  A FRIEND INDEED

  Dearest Bee

  I really can’t thank you enough for all your care and help. I am sorry that it has turned out this way but I believe that everything is related to fate. We can never really escape it even if we wanted to. Ali also sends his deep thanks and gratitude. You know, we were just talking about you last night, and he said, ‘A real sister would not care to do what Bee did and help us like that,’ and I think he is absolutely right.

  Anyway, we have paid this man for the passports and they won’t be ready till maybe the end of February or early March, which means quite a long time (if we survive the new strategy). During this time we will make inquiries about all the Arab countries to find out which one is the most accommodating.

  Bee, I will always cherish your offer to help us come illegally but I will not do this even if all else falls. I DO NOT want you to break the law for any reason. Besides, life would be hard in the UK. I let my imagination run and the film I saw was not very romantic.

  I still have some of that chocolate bar you sent me so I’ll go and make a cup of coffee to drink with it.

  How are the girls? I really loved their work. As for the adorable Elsa, I think she looks like a child out of a magazine or an ad. Please thank Justin for me and tell him that I appreciate his concern so much.

  I’ll go now.

  Love & hugs to you all

  May XX

  17.01.07

  RE: A FRIEND INDEED

  Dearest May. I just read your email and burst into tears.

  Each day small moments from your emails occur to me as I’m doing things, walking down the road or whatever, and I remember a funny thing you have said or described. But then this is set among such horror and disgusting fear – the idea of you seeing dead bodies in the street, being fired upon – it’s like a different planet to me. I can cope with the idea of never meeting you, but not the idea of your emails just ceasing.

  I have the appalling feeling of having raised your and Ali’s expectations only then to dash them again. I won’t give up, May. And now that I’ve told my friends about you I’m not the only person thinking of how to help you.

  But even if you end up in a neighbouring country we could come and see you, or send you money. But for now I think you are right to focus on what you can find closer to home, try to get a job in Oman or Qatar, from there it may be easier.

  I’m too emotional right now to tell you a funny story about yesterday but I’ll try to write to you tomorrow.

  Take care, dearest May.

  Bee XXX

  19.01.07

  Hi, Bee

  Dearest Bee

  Couldn’t answer right away for we still have no electricity. Bee, it is funny that the closest relationships I’ve made came either via phone like Ali or via email like you. Isn’t that amazing? I think it is because we tend to show our real selves without any reservations.

  The man doing the passports called last night and said to meet him tomorrow morning at a place near our area. We will be going but, between us, I’m not very relaxed about it. He looks like a militiaman, and I’m scared that he may have a gang who will try to hurt Ali. But we have no choice. Both of us have to be present to sign some papers.

  Oh, I forgot to tell you. I showed Ali the photos and he has a special liking for Zola. He thinks she is adorable in a very distinctive way. I’ll go no
w to make some lunch.

  Love & kisses to you all

  May XXX

  19.01.07

  Hi!

  Oh God, May. The passport man sounds bad. Write to me as soon as you get back so I don’t worry about you.

  Ali is right to spot Zola. She has an unusual charm and people often fall in love with her very quickly. Eva is thin and wiry with a constant energy that can be maddening (she manages to spill my tea just by being in the same room), but she is a classic beauty. Listen to me boasting about my gorgeous girls, haha! Oh, I’ve never been one for false modesty… !

  You will laugh at this; on Tuesday I had the most dreadful evening. I had invited a bunch of the girls’ friends round after school, on what they call a play date. I had made individual little pies and puddings for dinner, planned to make bead necklaces with them, and I felt pleased with myself that it was all nicely worked out and I was Supermum. But it all went wrong.

  Eva had three friends coming, and Zola had two, but then the phone rang 10 minutes after we’d got in from school and it was the mother of another girl I’d invited, BUT FORGOTTEN TO COLLECT FROM SCHOOL. The little girl was still there! Can you imagine what her mum thought of me? I apologized profusely and ran to school and picked her up (she was fine) but that got me all flustered. Then the other problem was that one of the kids’ mums stayed. Usually mums drop their kids on play dates, and gratefully rush off to do some shopping or just relax. And naturally we all know that we only do it so that we get the same favour back in return. It’s sort of an unspoken rule.

  But no, this mum stayed and stood there in my kitchen, talking away about famous people that she’d had lunch with, while to my increasing agitation the girls all rampaged off upstairs. Because I wasn’t giving them my complete attention, it all spun totally out of control. They broke Eva’s bed by bouncing on it. There were two huge fights, and by the time the parents came back at 6 p.m. to collect, everyone was sweating and crying and frenzied. Especially the poor girl I’d left behind at school to start with – her mum arrived to find her screaming in the hall. The sofa was tipped over, cushions and dressing-up clothes all strewn about, chairs upside down.

 

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