by Bee Rowlatt
Love
May XXXX
22.04.07
Not nice
Hi, dearest
I think that you haven’t really thought enough about what it is to be an asylum seeker. You ask me would you get ‘a proper job in a matter of months’ and say your decision depends on what I tell you. The blunt reality is that it would be very hard. A legal case can take up to a year or even two or three, during which time it is illegal to work. You would find illegal work easily enough, but it would not be what you are used to. Ali would probably not find anything unless he can speak English. You could be separated. Maybe you should think about staying in Syria or another Arabic-speaking country, so that at least both of you can support each other?
May, you can’t ask me to make the decision for you. I can only point out the various options and try to help with whatever you choose. It is possible that you could win asylum quickly and find a nice job here. But there really are other not so good possibilities too, and I hate it that I have to tell you that.
All my love
Bee XX
22.04.07
RE: Not nice
Bee Bee Bee, my lovely friend
I know what you are saying is absolutely true. You are also quite right that it is not what I’m used to, but please don’t think that I am a spoilt brat. I just can’t describe to you the horrible psychological imbalance we are going through, especially since we came to Syria. It is a mixture of fright, homesickness and nostalgia for familiar things, plus fear of the unknown.
Bee, you are my friend and I am used to opening up my heart to you and telling you whatever comes into my mind. My email was an outcry of inner fear and I guess that worried you and you probably hated me for it. Anyway, I am really sorry for getting you so mad at me. But really, we are very lost.
Today I went to the embassy and applied for the visa. They took our passports and forms and said they would contact us in 10 days, as the papers have to go to Amman and back, so we won’t know the outcome until then.
You ask about finding jobs here. Well, the highest salary an Iraqi can get is $100 per month, but rent is $600, so Ali has been looking too. It is bearable for the Syrians because their rents are much much lower than ours. I’ve told you the landlords take advantage of our misery.
NOW, let’s leave all this and talk about your journey to the Moors. Poor Zola must have given you the fright of your life. I don’t blame you for feeling so terrified as it is not easy to think even for one moment of the possibility (God forbid) of losing someone so precious. Thank God it turned out well. I have missed your emails. I can’t wait for the time to get a real bite from Elsa. Do you know, I have started for the first time in my life to actually look at stores where baby things are displayed, and I always think of her.
OK love, I must go now and I repeat that I am sorry for driving you nuts with my fears and worries. And that’s probably why I also keep pestering you with my messages.
Love you always
May XXXXX
29.04.07
Emotional weekend
Hello, dearest
Don’t worry, it’s OK to talk about your worries. It’s only frustration at the circumstances that makes me so angry.
I know you can’t write so much now as you have to find an internet café and it’s not easy, but there are a hundred things I wish I knew about your daily life. In your Baghdad emails you used to tell me about making lamb for dinner, but in Damascus do you even have a kitchen or somewhere to make tea? What is the space like where you are living?
It’s small rituals that make us human, like making tea. For me it signifies a moment of my own in the chaos of motherhood. I do it in a particular way and there is The Perfect Cup, when it’s hot but not boiling, you breathe down and it gently steams your face. (God forbid you get distracted, and when you get there it’s gone cold.) But for a refugee it must take on an even greater symbolism, having one’s own space quite literally.
Well, I am thinking of you.
Yesterday was a big day. Eva had her award ceremony and book launch for that competition at Daunt Books. She got a bit shy when she collected her prize, and she looked so small compared to the other kids. But she was proud of herself and enjoyed the whole day. A sad thing also happened: our old cat Booker T. died. A neighbour came and knocked on the door, saying, ‘There’s a dead cat in the back alley.’ Justin, Eva and Elsa were out. I went round the back to see, and Zola came with me. Booker T. was a good cat; I’ve had her since my sixteenth birthday and she was very old so I didn’t feel too shocked about her dying. That is, until we found her body: she had no head. She was entirely decapitated and the head was nowhere to be found. There was just a hole. It looked so unnatural and I began to sob and scream out, ‘Where’s her head?’ Zola saw the whole episode, which I regret.
Booker T. had a stately funeral. We buried her in the garden near some forget-me-nots, with flowers and love letters placed in her grave. It might seem excessive for a cat, but it was the girls’ first encounter with death and I thought we should dignify it. I think they will remember yesterday for a long time. They are still talking about it a lot. Justin says it was probably a fox that took her head off and I hope that’s true rather than some sick weirdo.
I have to go.
Love
Bee XX
29.04.07
LOVE FROM DAMASCUS
Hello, love
CONGRATULATIONS TO EVA PLUS A TRIPLE HUG AND A BIG FAT KISS. I am really so happy and proud.
I thought of you a lot on Friday. It was Ali’s birthday so we went to a nice area just 20 km north of Damascus. Oh Bee, it was so beautiful. There was a narrow river with trees and farms, and on the banks of the river there were nice simple restaurants and we took a lot of photos, one with me up a tree. I thought of you all the time and wished you were with us to enjoy the beauty of the place.
I am sorry about your cat. It was rather old but the way it died is so ugly, and reminded me of death in my country. You know, Bee, a lot of people die this way nowadays. I wonder how could it have happened?
Have to go now.
Love
MAY XXX
03.05.07
Where is the visa??
Oh Bee, I am so worried. My time is running out and I must leave for Baghdad soon but still no sign of the visas. We are both so scared and nervous that we stay in the flat talking about what will happen to us, even though we are free to go out because it is safe here. I think we Iraqis have become rather complicated in our attitude to the world outside our homes. I have noticed (and this applies to many Iraqis) that we are too tired to establish new human relationships and contacts, plus we are too scared to do so. Trusting one another is no longer easy, and is becoming rare in our community. Iraqis have restricted friendships to people they know and trust from back home.
Anyway, Ali and I are blessed to have each other. As we have nothing to do we have turned into lazy bums (to be honest, I hate it deep down). We stay up late at night talking and watching TV, and so we don’t wake up early. Bee, you know I think we are sick. We eat and eat all the time without being really hungry; we have lost interest in life and a secure future feels just a dream. I have even stopped wearing make-up, because I don’t go out and so I’ve lost interest. Imagine me neglecting something I have enjoyed doing since I was 14?
I must go.
Love to those nieces of mine
May
09.05.07
May!
Hello, lovely May
Did you get an extension from your university? I hope you’re feeling better. Is it still OK to be in Damascus? May, I know you feel down but it still feels good just to know that you’re not in Iraq. But let me know what’s going on.
Loads of love
B XX
10.05.07
NOT OK
NO, BEE, THINGS ARE NOT OK.
I AM IN A HORRIBLE MESS. I’VE TRIED CALLING THE BRITISH EMBASSY SEVERAL TIMES BUT ALL I CAN GET TO TAL
K TO IS THE LOCAL EMPLOYEES WHO SAY THEY DON’T KNOW A THING. I WANT MY PASSPORT BACK WITH OR WITHOUT A VISA BECAUSE I HAVE TO GO HOME OR LOSE MY JOB. I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO. THEY DON’T ALLOW PEOPLE TO SEE THE BRITISH STAFF. HEEEEEELLLLLPPPP.
17.05.07
Where are you?
What on earth happened, May? I got your text saying you’re still in Damascus. I can’t understand. What will happen to your university job back in Baghdad? Why did it take so long to get a rejection from the embassy? I hope you are both OK. Let me know what’s happening as soon as you can.
It’s been raining here for nearly two weeks and Elsa is driving me mad; she is so busy and active and wants to be outside. She’s frustrated as she can’t do the things she wants to do. She now pulls herself up on all the furniture and wobbles around before falling back down again. She also chews everything she can grab. This includes all the girls’ artwork we have on the wall. Elsa pulls it down and eats it, and the girls get upset.
Write soon, May. I’m thinking of you and hope you’ll be OK.
Bee XXX
17.05.07
The horror of the visa ordeal
Dear Bee
Oh Bee, let me first tell you about the visa disaster. The problem was not with the British people who work at the embassy, because you don’t ever get to see any of them. The problem was with the locals. It was chaotic. After we were told it would take 10 days for the application to come back, I went to the embassy to find out the result but nobody had any answers and every time I asked, they said to wait – even though I explained that I needed my passport to return to Iraq. Eventually they called me in on Sunday morning, then cancelled the meeting. Again and again I was told to wait and I pleaded that it was a humanitarian issue. When I eventually went to collect the papers, a document from the vice-consul said she didn’t believe that we weren’t intending to work in the UK, that she didn’t think we would leave within six months and that even though we had a sponsor she was not convinced because the invitation and the other documents were photocopied. I felt so humiliated.
To be honest, Bee, I’d rather be killed in Baghdad than become a beggar on the doorsteps of other countries. Especially when these countries are the ones who have shattered our lives, exploited our national wealth and put us through all this misery. I am sorry to say BUT this event has changed all my beliefs about Great Britain, which I have cherished in my heart since I was a child.
So we have no visas, but it is too dangerous for Ali to return to Baghdad. And it’s not worth me returning now. I had already missed the deadline for my return to college so I called the department to ask for an extension. Thank God I was unwell for some time (I did not tell you) and was able to get a medical report recommending rest. The college will soon close for the summer vacation anyway, and they’ve been so considerate letting me stay here till the end of the holidays. If security in Baghdad does not improve then I can probably return a bit late. They will keep my job for me until the autumn. We have decided to stay in Damascus while it is too dangerous to return, and for as long as we have enough savings to live on. But Bee, it feels like a half-life here with nothing to do and nothing of our own.
I have to go now as my time is finishing at the internet café. Write to me soon.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
PS If you want a copy of the embassy’s letter I can fax it to you.
18.05.07
RE: The horror of the visa ordeal
Bastards. There is nothing worse than small-minded people invested with a bit of power; they become corrupted. I think you faced the worst of the worst. But at least you are persistent and resilient. I think that that is the reality of being a refugee, May. This is what I was so worried about. It would be just as bad in London. I’ve told you that I have worked with refugees; I know how bad it can be.
I have just got back from a day at work. I hate sitting still at a desk for hours. It makes my bum ache. I decided to throw a party, and have started planning a secret surprise birthday party for Justin. Last year he was 40, but he didn’t want to have a big celebration, plus Elsa had just been born. He gets all grumpy about birthdays, whereas I absolutely love them. So this year I am taking over. It’s been brilliant – I’ve sneakily tracked down lots of his mates and everyone is very excited.
I’m glad that you are able, at least, to stay with Ali in Damascus rather than return to Baghdad when it’s so dangerous.
Take care for now, dear May.
Bee XXX
24.05.07
Life goes on in Damascus
Hi, Bee
Life is dreary here. Although we are fine in Damascus, it is useless to try and find a job. The maximum salary the Syrians pay whether you are a dentist, a professor or a dustman is no more than $100 a month. I think they do it on purpose to limit the number of Iraqis working in their country. I don’t blame them, of course. But most Iraqis enter the country and spend their own money without burdening the Syrian economy. So I think it is they who benefit from our immigration, contrary to what is written in the press.
Ali has made lots of friends (Iraqis and Syrians) and he walks freely around the streets and enjoys the freedom of security. I’ve found some of my old students and some colleagues, although we don’t socialize with them much, but we still go for long walks.
I hope that all is well with you.
MAY xxxx
25.05.07
Elsa’s birthday: how wonderful
Dear Bee
I was thinking how it’s Elsa’s birthday soon. It is a shame that I can’t be there. Do you know that my head of department tried to send someone to replace me and cover my absence but the students refused to have her? I hear that they told her they would only accept her on the condition that she tells them May is dead or is no longer coming back. Because, with ‘Miss May’, novel class is not just a lesson: it is a journey in a time machine (I always compare some of the Victorian traditions with the present day, because there is a great deal of similarity and this seems to make them like it more). I do miss my students, Bee. They are eager for life and they think that there is a future waiting for them. I hear from a colleague that they have just finished Book Two of Hard Times and are eager to find out if Louisa is going to marry Harthouse. Oh, they so love these things! Most of them are deprived of real experiences because of the strict Arab traditions, so they just dream away in their classes.
I am glad not to be in Baghdad. Now it is summer and around 42 degrees, just like a hot oven. And it will soon rise to 46 –48 degrees in July and August. The security situation in Iraq is getting worse with every explosion and I hear the soldiers are getting more nervous, banning people from moving around, and waving their guns. I should be glad that Ali and I can walk safely here.
I will write to you again as soon as I can.
Love
MAY XXX
02.06.07
Still trying
Dear Bee
I miss you so much. I just couldn’t help but send you a message. LIFE HAS TO GO ON, doesn’t it? The journey has not yet come to an end.
Today I received an email from Kate Robertson of CARA, inquiring if I had made it to the UK. This was so very nice of her and I told her part of the story, but not all of it. I really do miss the heart-warming emails of my younger sister (you) but I know you are so very busy.
Tell me all about the surprise birthday party for Justin. And kiss the lovely little nieces of mine, especially the lovely four-tooth angel.
Time to go.
Love you always
May
05.06.07
Home alone
Hello, dear May
I feel awful not to have written in so long, but I think I have some good news. I spoke to Kate again and she said that she had heard from you. She has an idea that may provide a way to help – if you were to secure a place at an English university to study and teach, CARA could pay for the fees, but we would still need to find some way of covering your living expenses. B
ut Ali could come too. It’s still just an idea, but perhaps there is hope.
I am alone, but at least only for three nights (Justin’s in Belfast). It’s been a busy week. The nightmare of the Summer Fair is in full swing. Remember last year we did the Christmas Fair? It was incredibly hard work and I was demoralized by some of the mums’ comments. One of them appears to be some kind of class warrior. She is a single mum living in a council flat (which doesn’t concern me in the least, but she prefaces almost every comment with it, as if it adds weight to what she’s about to say) and she battles against almost everything I suggest. She seems to disapprove of making money, even though it’s our job to raise funds. The Parents’ Association is a two-year job, and right now I wish I’d never agreed to it. I’ve become a social leper; people scatter when they see me coming in case I start nagging them to do stuff.
Still managing to keep Justin’s surprise party a secret, and it’s been funny getting all his friends in on it. I am enjoying the sneakiness.
Ah well, May, it’s late again and I think I’d better start getting ready for bed, so that I don’t sit up as late as last night. Big hugs to you, dearest. I hope you are feeling OK right now.
Love from
Bee
06.06.07
Missing a soulmate
Dearest friend
How nice to be talking again. I really miss you but have tried to hold back, as I realize that you are a young mother fighting hard to get everything done at the right time.
I hope all is fine. I am writing to share my happiness with you, my best friend: Kate has just written to me and said CARA will be able to help me for the coming four months, which means we can stay here in Damascus longer. Oh Bee, I am so excited! We can survive here for another four months. It is great and thanks, of course, to you, my dear friend – you really are an angel, or the good fairy. I love you so much, Bee. Ali also sends his love and thanks for all you’ve done for us.
