Talking About Jane Austen in Baghdad

by Bee Rowlatt

  By the way, The Old Man and the Sea is on TV and Ali is watching it. I keep telling him to keep in mind that: ‘A man can be destroyed but not defeated.’

  OK, love, try to be a wee bit patient with your big hairy boy. All men are really babies on the inside. Fine on my part to say this, but I do get edgy and angry seeing anybody sick. Even when I fall ill I don’t want much attention, I just want to be left in peace (hehee).

  Big big hugs to you all

  May XXXX

  25.03.08

  Post-Easter chocolate come-down

  Hi, May

  Had a lovely long Easter weekend break, but now Justin’s away again and this morning wasn’t good. I’m feeling all achy and tired, I burned the porridge, tried to hang out the laundry before we set off for school, then the girls’ hair was all tangled and they screeched when I brushed it (apart from Elsa, who rushes up and demands the same as her sisters, even if it hurts). On the way to school it was so windy my eyes were streaming and it looked like I was crying. Zola’s teacher said I looked tired – well, hardly a surprise as I don’t even get time to brush my teeth let alone put make-up or proper clothes on. And I really hate my hair at the moment. I have to put all sorts of gungey stuff on it just to stop myself from looking like the nun out of The Sound of Music.

  Well, that’s all the latest from this end. I’m going to make tea now and read the papers for a quick break before Elsa gets up. I’m at work tomorrow (yippEEE!) but please write to me soon. I really want to hear from you.

  Lots of love and Easter hugs

  B XXX

  26.03.08

  I hate this

  Bee

  Are you there?

  I am so depressed. I feel like killing myself to get rid of the load I have weighing on my mind. First of all, Ali’s stupid monkey of a friend formatted the computer without my permission and has LOST so much of my work. I haven’t even had a chance to say all the nasty things I wanted to because Ali became so angry and started blaming me for being careless and not backing it up. But how was I supposed to know that he would format the computer? I usually explode when things like that happen, but with Ali I’m scared he might get violent. I’ve had enough of that in my previous marriage. So you see, it is all bottled up inside.

  The second thing is that I received a letter addressed to me with the word ‘Confidential’ stamped on it. I found that it had been opened. Although nothing of great importance was in it – it was a research paper sent to me for assessment – the point is: HOW DARE THEY OPEN A CONFIDENTIAL LETTER?

  The third thing is that the local generator has been out of order for the past four days, and of course the house generator is not designed to run for long hours. I just hate the darkness, especially when the weather is turning hot. Just imagine, it is 39 degrees centigrade.

  And one last thing. We were awakened at 6.45 a.m. on Saturday by heavy bangs on the door (not the outside gate) and the army burst into the house for a search. They searched the whole neighbourhood and we were so scared and upset.

  Am I overreacting, Bee?

  Sorry to pour it all out like this, but I must tell you.

  Hugs, love and XXXX

  May

  29.03.08

  1,2,3… 144 chocolate cakes

  Hi, lovely – really quick one. Sorry, but it’s been mad. I don’t blame you for being furious – what a terrible time! Especially the thing about the computer. I don’t know how you managed to keep from going mad with Ali, but well done.

  Yesterday after work I baked 144 chocolate cakes for a party for my my mum and brother tonight. Finished cooking at 10 p.m. in a really bad mood as Justin kept trying to eat them. I feel so tired. Trying to pack today before we drive up north, so I’d better rush. We’re back on Weds but might be able to write to you from my mum’s.

  Lots and lots of love

  Take care

  B XXX

  29.03.08

  Cakes for sale

  Dearest

  I could never bake a cake, and certainly not 144. How did you manage it? Bee, I think you are talented. Why don’t you start a bakery business? I think it will be profitable. Or maybe we can work together: I’ll make some Middle Eastern foods and appetizers, and you can make European pastries and cakes. But we’ll have to ban Ali and Justin from entering our shop because there’ll be nothing left to sell!

  Will go now. Write when you can.

  May XXX

  01.04.08

  The joys of living?

  Dear Bee

  I know you’re at your mum’s but I still need to write to you. Here tension is worsening; there is fighting all over the country and I fear that it may spread. The schools, universities and shops are closed: life has almost stopped. If the fuel we have runs out then we can no longer function. There are some efforts being made to contain the crisis, but I read today that some Sadrists say they are being oppressed, just as they were in the old days. (These are mostly illiterate followers of a young ‘cleric’, who are accused of extensive looting and also killing a vast number of Sunnis, and even burning them alive. They suffered oppression before, but now they are doing even worse things.)

  I just don’t know what the Americans have gained by ruining the country. They could have just toppled the president and left the people to resume their lives. Do you know that over 80 per cent of the population is out of work? One of the richest countries in the world suffers from poverty and all kinds of shortages.

  I was flicking through the TV channels we have and one showed a lawyer defending the members of the previous regime. He was complaining about the Iranian influence on the court and how the judge and guards hated the defendants, because the judge had asked them to remove their head covers, which represented ‘an insult for old men of tribal background’. I switched to another channel and it showed children who had been blinded by bombs that contained dangerous chemicals. Tears were streaming down my face as I flicked to another channel showing something about Mother’s Day, but it kept mentioning the suffering of Iraqi mothers and how many have had their sons killed in all the violent events that have rocked the country.

  We’ve had enough. You know, I miss everything – from the smallest pebble on the street, to sitting with friends in a club or a restaurant, just smoking and drinking coffee or tea. My brain feels different. I hate myself, my house, Ali and everything around me.

  I haven’t been out of the house for eight days, but will risk going to work tomorrow just to see people. I sometimes wish I could spend a night or two away from home, talk to people who are on the same wavelength as me, but there is no one left to talk to. Most of my friends have emigrated to someplace or another. And anyway, they are from my old life and I don’t think even if they were here that I could communicate with them. Ali doesn’t like meeting people, particularly those from my previous life, and he hasn’t got any friends of his own. Even if he did have, their wives would either be young or from a world completely different from mine.

  I can’t stand this life much longer and, I confess, if our little project does not go through within this month I don’t know what I’ll do to myself, but I will do something to ease all the tension inside me once and for all.

  I MISS LIVING, I really do.

  Oh, I can’t go on any longer. I will end my email with love and hugs to you all.

  May XXX

  02.04.08

  Be strong!

  Oh May, I’m sorry. I just don’t know how you pull through. But you do, May, you always get through. Normally I’d say you shouldn’t go out as it’s dangerous and I want you to be safe, but I think for your mental health you really must get out. Going to work would be the best thing you could do. Is it at all possible at the moment? Can you get to the hairdresser’s?

  I’ve heard about the curfew in Baghdad. What about having a coffee with colleagues inside the university; is that safe? I know they’re trivial suggestions but it’s all I can think of. Please cheer up, May, I feel awful with you being
so sad and trapped.

  Well, as usual I can’t really give any proper advice or help so I’ll just tell you about my stuff and what’s been going on. I feel like it’s just me yapping on but at the very least it might distract you for a moment.

  We drove up on Saturday and I was still in a mood with Justin for eating an extra cake. We had all eaten one, leaving 139. That night Justin wanted another, but I said no. But when I went to bed he ate it anyway as he thought I was being stingy. In the morning I was furious and accused him of being like Elsa: seeing something, demanding it, not capable of understanding it might belong to someone else. We had a big row and I was grumpy on the journey up, which was rainy and tedious.

  We got to York and began to help my mum set up the village hall for the party. Everyone was in really high spirits, and I managed to keep the cakes and the photo display secret. (Had blown-up photos of my mum aged 20 and my brother as a baby.) We went back and got ready, and I did my mum’s make-up. She never normally wears make-up, so I did it quite subtly and she looked gorgeous. It was a lovely intimate moment, prancing around, listening to Aretha Franklin and sorting out our outfits.

  The evening went brilliantly: the band was great, there was lots of food and drink and friends, and everyone was dancing. The girls wore a combination of Indian wedding outfits and cowboy hats. Elsa shot on to the dance floor, grabbed two helium balloons and then ran in circles jerking them behind her. She did this ceaselessly, and when people tried to pat her or dance with her she just swerved past them and carried on like a demented bumble bee.

  I grabbed some people to hide away and help me light the candles on the 100 cakes which we’d put on a catering trolley. When we wheeled them out everyone sang ‘Happy Birthday’. By the end my feet were killing me as I was wearing my orange sandals with a six-inch heel, so the clean-up was a pain, but everyone was so happy and it couldn’t have gone better.

  Well, May, I know I’m just talking about cakes and you’re possibly still feeling quite suicidal. All I can do is send you a massive hug and hope with all my heart that you’re better than you were when you wrote that. Please try to think about the beautiful things in the world. You have lots to live for, May, and lots of people who love you.

  Always

  Bee XXX

  04.04.2008

  A mixed bag of spring and blues

  May, how are you? Thanks for sending a text; I was so worried. Hope you’re still feeling better and have managed to get outside.

  Well, I got very upset and cried today, May, as I think my period’s come again, and I’d just started thinking I might be pregnant. I know, I know this happened last month too. I’m so contrary: of course, if I found out I was pregnant I would complain and moan and be frightened and resentful and so on, but once again finding that I’m not is also secretly a disappointment. I guess I’m from the generation of women who think we can control everything in our lives, and then it’s a shock when we can’t.

  But we went to the Spring Show for the local gardening society. It was brilliant. Totally lifted my spirits – it was so English. There was nice tea in proper teacups with saucers, lots of friendly old ladies and cakes, plus all the flower and veg displays. The girls entered the two children’s categories. Eva made an Easter bonnet with yellow chicks all over it, while Zola’s was an edible nest of chocolate and cornflakes, squished up with eggs and chicks in, all on a bed of straw. They both won first prize (there was no competition to speak of but that didn’t matter to them, hehee).

  Oh, Justin has had some great news at work: he’s going off filming in Alaska and chasing polar bears LATER THIS MONTH and although I’m really happy for him and leapt for joy, my second thought was the dawning realization that I’ll be on my own with the kids for two weekends in a row. Argh! Weekdays are OK, but the weekend is just a wretched time to be a single mum. But still, quite amazing news so I have to look at the long-term picture.

  This email is a right patchwork, isn’t it? I’m all over the place. Will we still email this much when you live in Bedfordshire? It’s 10.30 p.m. now, so if I start getting ready for bed then this’ll be an early night.

  ‘Good night, sweet May, and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.’

  B XXX

  05.04.2008

  Just hold on

  Dear Bee, it will happen. I am sure of it.

  My mum just came to the door. She and my brother’s family had been invited to lunch by some old friends who have rented one of my mother’s houses. She hadn’t been out since I told you about our visit to the hairdresser’s more than a month ago, and she was happily telling me about their outing. I think that seeing friends is worth the risk, don’t you?

  OK, lovely, when will Justin leave? Tell me so that I can send you more emails and stories about our life to keep you busy for a while.

  Love you, wee sister

  Hugs

  MAY xx

  06.04.08

  My wicked children

  We went to some friends’ house for a big Sunday lunch – they have young twins. Our girls played beautifully with their twins and they all put on a little show together with music and dancing. But when we got back much later on Justin discovered that Zola had a lump under her jumper, which turned out to be a little plastic necklace she had taken from their house. She first tried to hide it from him, then claimed to have ‘found it on the pavement’, then finally admitted to taking it but begged J. not to tell me.

  Did I tell you about the time when Eva nicked a sweet from the chemist’s on South End Green? I marched her down there with her money tin and made her tell them what she’d done, apologize, and then pay for the sweet out of her own money. Later on I lectured both girls severely, saying that stealing is wrong, but most of all, and worse than anything, I didn’t want to be lied to. I delivered this in a weighty manner, hoping they’d never forget it. But Zo thought about it for a moment and came right back with: Actually, Mummy, I prefer lying. Because if someone lies to me, I don’t care, but if they steal from me then I don’t have that thing any more.’

  OK, dearest. I’m off now.

  Bee XXX

  14.04.08

  Hello, big sister

  I felt bad for not writing last week. But do you know what? I’d been reading through a load of our recent emails and it just made me depressed. I know we have everything to celebrate, and it’s only a matter of time, but it seems that every time I am saying the same thing: oh, it’ll all be happening any moment soon, blah blah, constantly cheerful and upbeat. I just couldn’t bear it again; I’ve run out of patience and it all makes me feel sick. I suppose I feel bad being here while you’re still stuck over there, going mad.

  I don’t normally experience guilt, but basically I just felt sick of always trying to cheer you up. I seem to say the same things again and again and I couldn’t face it this time. Sorry.

  My words about not stealing went unheeded: Eva and Zola were caught by Justin stealing chocolates in London’s Borough Market on Friday. Eva had a pocket stuffed with really expensive chocolates, worth about £5. He made her give them back. I went mad and told them I’d hand them both over to the police if it happened again, but this weekend Zola came back from a friend’s with some small doll’s things in her pocket. She could’ve brought them by accident, I suppose, but I was furious and don’t know what to do. Anyway, they’re both up at my mum’s now until Friday, so it’s only little Elsa and her flying fists of fury this week.

  Am in work today – I love it. I talked to our Pashtun Service about a florid Indian soap opera that might be banned in Afghanistan despite huge audiences, and am chasing Burma and Kenya too. It’s a great news week, so much going on in the world.

  Better go – more chasing to do. You know I think of you always.

  Bee XXX

  14.04.08

  Hello, wee sister

  Hope you’re well. We are still locked in our houses out of fear. I keep myself busy with lots of human rights papers to mark, questions t
o set, and also I have just completed a paper on ‘Social Satire in Jane Austen’s Persuasion’. And I hope to start one soon on ‘Sin in the Victorian Age’.

  By the way, I’ve had an idea about the chocolate incident with Eva and Zola stealing things: maybe the girls’ behaviour is jealousy of Elsa and they are trying to attract your attention. I know that you do your best to treat them all equally but the girls are just babies as well and do not comprehend that Elsa needs more attention than they do. Well, I don’t know but that is what I think!

  Love to the naughty ones.

  Love

  May xxx

  15.04.08

  Elsa’s poo!

  Hi, love. Thank God you’re OK. I was at the gym and there was rolling news about a car bomb in Baghdad, so I texted you straight away. Just imagine, it is only these technological advances that have kept us together all these years.

  Guess what – we had a big moment in Elsa’s life last night when I got home from work. I took her nappy off and she played around, sitting on the potty while I sang some songs and showed her books, then suddenly she picked up the potty, ran to the other side of the room and placed it carefully on a rug, then did a big poo in it! I realize that poo isn’t the noblest of topics but I have to tell you about it as it’s a big deal for her and was her first ever try. She stared at it, looking all worried and doubtful. I began to cheer and clap her and praise her. I took a photo with my phone to send to Justin (apparently he showed it all round the office, oh lucky colleagues!). She began to be delighted and clap her hands, then we flushed it down the toilet, saying, ‘Bye-bye!’ She stood there waving and shouting bye-bye to her own poo long after it had gone.