Talking About Jane Austen in Baghdad

by Bee Rowlatt

  Later in the morning, over a cup of tea, Justin was saying that the credit crunch means that rents are going down, which is good news for you. Even so, I think you’ll get a shock when you see the prices of things. Anyway, I called the Middle East desk of the Foreign and Commonwealth Office and asked if I can send a letter of support. The man was very nice, so I emailed him a letter about your fellowship and so on, with your and Ali’s details enclosed. I’ve asked him to forward them to whoever will be processing your visas. I did this on the advice of the other guy I know who works at the Foreign Office. Well, it can’t hurt, can it? And it feels good to be able to do something constructive.

  It’s a very cold autumn. I swam in the pond on Wednesday; it was windy and there were brown leaves all over the water that we had to swim through. It was a gaspy 14 degrees. The cold is worse than last year when we made it to 1st November. I feel we have to beat that this year, but ouch ouch, oh I don’t know, it’s going to be a tough one. Perhaps you’ll join us for the last one of the year… ? HAHAAA!

  The girls are all in bed, tired at the end of the week, and I’m tired too. Justin is on his way home.

  The world is OK, May.

  B XX

  05.10.08

  More delays

  Dearest

  Thank God your arm is OK, but please do not exhaust yourself in any way.

  Today is Sunday and time for filling out the forms. We went to the World Bridge visa section of the UK Embassy. We received the forms and were on our way back to fill them out at home. We stopped at a café for some tea and cakes. When I started looking through the papers I discovered that there were things which I couldn’t really handle without consulting someone.

  So we returned to the area near the visa building. There was a man, surrounded by people, sitting at the terrace of the Burger King snack bar. He was filling out forms for people. I listened first to what he was saying to them, and then decided to consult him. He looked at our papers and said that mine were OK, but they lacked an accommodation address.

  As for Ali, the man said he will be refused a visa unless his name (as it appears in his passport) is mentioned in CARA’s letter in a context that shows they really know that he is coming and staying with me and sharing the fund. Otherwise, he warned, I will be granted a visa but Ali will be rejected or required to produce a bank statement of his own showing a substantial amount of money. I called Kate, but it is Sunday, and then I called you and couldn’t reach you, so I came to the internet café to tell you all about it. I will also write to Kate and see what she advises. More delays, I’m afraid.

  OK, love, will have to write to Kate and then go home.

  Love you always

  May xxx

  07.10.08

  Butterflies… and thinking about dates

  HELLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!

  Oh, I’m starting to get funny butterflies, May, when I think about it now. I’m trying, oh trying, to keep it all a bit squashed down, but it could be so soon. To think back on those long emails of despair and all you’ve been through, to be now making these last few arrangements… BUT, stop it! I have to remember how many times I’ve got myself all deranged and happy about developments, only to have yet another problem thrown our way.

  I called the Foreign Office again today, and got through to a different woman. She said she’d seen the email I sent, and she confirmed that it had been forwarded to the Jordan office. It will be fabulous to have you close by. The girls can show you their favourite places (they each have secret dens near the duck pond). Please stop buying them presents or you won’t fit on to the plane! You really don’t need to. I’m guessing they will probably be a bit shy when they first meet you and Ali (apart from Elsa, who sings and dances for anyone). I’d guess Zola will be more adventurous and climb all over Ali, whereas Eva usually takes the longest to be comfortable with new people, but is very loyal.

  When we have an arrival date for you, I’ll book a day of flat-hunting in Luton. I was talking to my mum last night on the phone and she said Luton is quite ugly. I hope you won’t mind it. I’m sure there are some nice bits, and if we don’t find the perfect place straight away there will be time later to look again.

  I’ve been moping around with a bout of nearly-flu. Wearing big sloppy clothes and hardly leaving the house. I’m not quite ill enough to be ‘Officially Sick’, but I feel rubbish and tired. J.’s been away filming; once again the dragging of my wretched self to school in the mornings with three moppets in tow is a pitiful sight to behold. I just wish the cough/cold whatever it is would just arrive properly so I can get over it, instead of lurking malevolently. I’ve even thought I should just go and swim in the Pond (it’s down to 12 degrees now) by way of a ‘kill or cure’! But at least the girls are all fine.

  I’m blathering. One more cup of tea and then I might venture out into the autumn wind…

  Hugs

  B XX

  08.10.08

  A retrograde planet may have caused the delay

  Dearest

  Your email is a very cheerful one; I love it. You know, Bee, it is a feeling of love that began way back that makes me remember the girls whenever I see children’s things. Of course I can’t buy what I like for them, but there are sometimes small things that just catch my eye. They are your children, Sis, and I love them just for being so. After meeting them, I guess each will have her own special place in my heart and mind. From your descriptions each one seems to have very special qualities.

  We are still waiting for CARA’s letter of support to take to the embassy. I was expecting it today, but it seems that these horoscope things might after all be right (hehee) because they say at this particular time there is a retrograde (I can’t remember which) planet and this, they say, causes delays in communication and also faults in electrical appliances and computers. Retrograde or not, I think all these delays will drive me nuts sooner than expected. Or maybe the state is long overdue? I’m not quite sure really.

  I so much want to get settled and live normally. By the way, did I tell you that we are back once more to using plastic plates (just like in Syria)? I really hate eating off plastic. The plates just don’t feel clean, no matter how hard you wash them. OK, lovely, will go now. Please thank Mrs Rowlatt for her kindness and tell her that I look forward to meeting her.

  Love you always

  May xxx

  10.10.08

  ??? ?!!

  May, May, May, is CARA’s letter there? Have you been to the embassy? What’s happening?

  I’m like a jumping bean…

  B x

  13.10.08

  Any news?

  May, I’m sitting here with a load of dye on my hair. I thought I’d better cover up the greys in time for my birthday on Wednesday. That’s no way to start a new year, is it? And there’s a big stew on the cooker. Elsa is a bit ill and is doing jigsaws, with her rattling cough and puffy eyes. At least her temperature’s gone down a bit.

  On Saturday evening I was so looking forward to our favourite programme: Strictly Come Dancing. A load of famous people are paired with professional dancers, and have to learn various ballroom dances. Every week they try out a new one, perform it, and one person is voted off by the judges and the audience. The costumes are fabulous, glittering sequiny confections; the girls and I always argue over who gets which dress (Elsa likes the colourful ones, Zola likes the tarty ones, Eva likes all of them despite the fact that she’s recently decided she wants to be a boy). It’s the high point of the week. Anyway, we were only one dance in when Elsa was suddenly repeatedly sick, all over herself, me and the surrounding furniture. Poor miserable baby; she’s never been sick before, so you can imagine how weird it must be to throw up if you don’t know what’s happening. I had to wash her, all our clothes and the carpet etc., and by the time I sat down again Strictly had just finished.

  Eva and Zola both had their first ever sleepovers last week. It was so exciting. Eva was invited to stay at her friend’s house,
and so I invited one of Zola’s friends to ours. Zo and her friend Gracie were up giggling and building nests until very late and had a ‘midnight feast’ of crisps and raisins at about 9 p.m. Eva’s sleepover was a bit of an eye-opener for her: it turns out her friend is allowed to watch TV, eat limitless sweets and chewing gum, AND there’s ‘no bedtime’ !!?? (Mine only watch TV on weekends/holidays.) It really made me wonder how strict and mean I am in comparison to other mums. I always thought I was a bit stricter, but maybe I’m a LOT stricter, my poor hapless children! Justin and I were both brought up in a similar way and I guess we just carried it on with our own.

  Anyway, I’d better get this stuff washed off my head.

  Goodbye, May. Please, please let there be no more delays!

  Love

  Bee XX

  13.10.08

  Bedtime rules

  Dearest Bee

  The letter has not yet arrived, but we were phoned by FedEx in Jordan this morning and informed that it is on its way.

  Your bedtime rules reminded me of the rules we had when we were children. We were the only children in the family who were sent to bed at 7 p.m. All the other children never had this rule. My mother and father had both agreed that it was the right thing. I hated having to go to sleep so early and I used to hide near the staircase and listen to the TV programmes without their knowledge. My mother says that they sometimes noticed me but ignored me so as not to embarrass me or themselves. She says that I was always disobedient, and it was no use trying to force me.

  You know, I’ve just remembered something about our bedtime story ritual. As a practical person my mother didn’t see the point in sitting near each one of us to read an individual bedtime story. She used technology to solve the problem, bought a tape recorder and recorded three hours of bedtime stories in her own voice. She put the recorder in the corridor where all of us could hear, and let it play till we were fast asleep, so we had her voice while she was somewhere else.

  I tried to argue with her about it when we grew older, but she insisted that it was valuable time which she could use to do other things. I still think that it was not a very wise thing to do, because what a child needs more than the story is the comfort of touching his mum and feeling her warmth. We were allowed to stay up till 8.30 on Thursdays because Friday was our weekend and there was no school. In the summer holidays we were allowed to stay up till 9.00 because the sun doesn’t set until late. Anyway, I hated all these rules. They became less strict after my father’s death, and I broke away from them as soon as I got the chance.

  These childhood memories are so important, and they instill a certain attitude towards life, so I think parents should be really careful in applying their rules. I believe it is a good thing to allow children to mix with others and see other people’s lifestyles, as long as these people are trustworthy. We were never allowed to stay overnight anywhere. Even in my forties I had to put up with some harsh words from my brother when I told him that I would be staying the night with a friend whose daughter was having an operation.

  By the way, Bee, why did you use the word ‘Goodbye’ in your last email? I’ve not seen it before in your emails!!!!

  I will have to go now.

  Love you for ever

  May xxx

  14.10.08

  Bad stuff and good stuff

  May! Is the letter there? Is the letter there? Is the letter there yet?????? Will you text me when it comes, and also tell me when you’re going to the embassy so that I can… well, I’m not sure what I’ll do, but I want to know anyway so I can at least think about you at the right moment.

  You know, it’s so funny that you noticed me saying ‘Goodbye, May’ at the end of the last email. Reading back, it looks very final. It’s just a silly thing: I find it really hard to end these emails at the moment, because I keep thinking each one might be the last one. It feels very different from the old days of writing to you. Back then was a bit like writing to someone in prison – trying to keep your spirits up but not knowing if you’d ever get out. Now, as we get closer and closer to the end, there’s a different reason for writing. It’s become more of a countdown. So now, when I sign off, I get a momentous feeling and that’s why I went all pompous on you. Hope it didn’t scare you, haha!

  Some mad news from this end. Last week as I was going to bed (J. was out), I looked out of the window and saw a couple fighting in the street. The man shouted, ‘I’ve never even heard of her!’ then he punched the woman in the face. He punched her again, and she crumpled. As she fell, he brought his leg back, like a footballer taking a penalty, and kicked her. I began to shake and called the police. The man ran away, then returned. The woman was lying on the ground crying out for her dad. I was on the phone, peeping out of the window and giving a description of the man, when the police arrived. They were amazing: they chased him; he attacked them; they got him to the ground and everyone was screaming. Suddenly the whole street was full of flashing blue lights. There were cop cars and vans and ambulances everywhere. An officer came to our house and took a statement from me. It took almost an hour.

  BUT THEN… the policeman’s walkie-talkie buzzed and it was his colleague, who was with the girlfriend. I listened to what he was saying: she’d sustained severe injuries, and was in hospital. She had given a statement too, but hers was: ‘I fell over. He was helping me. Leave him alone, he’s my boyfriend.’ I could not believe my ears. So even though she won’t press charges, they want me to testify in court and I have agreed. I know you saw much worse than this from your house in Baghdad. It’s very hard to shake off the fear and disgust afterwards, isn’t it?

  Anyway, poor Elsa is still ill. Last night I was up with her until 3 a.m. because every time I put her to bed she cried and cried and cried.

  I think she did more crying than in the whole of her life to date. Every time I picked her up she pressed her little face into me; I think she just wanted the company. In the end she gave up, and we both got some sleep. But she’s not much better today: swollen face, streaming nose, not eating, and occasional temperature. I’m a bit zombified too. It just makes me sad.

  OK, dearest, I’m going to try to say goodbye in a normal and non-sensational way, but have got a bit self-conscious about it now…

  er…

  … bye then!

  B XX

  14.10.08

  Happy birthday

  Dearest

  Well done, my brave sister. I think, if the police keep your identity hidden, this brute must be punished. Why for God’s sake do women cover up for these animals? Don’t say it is out of love because there cannot be any love in such a situation. I’ve seen similar things, but in Iraq ‘decent women’ are afraid to contact the police because of the old traditional way of thinking which maintains that only women of ill repute go to police stations. This reminds me that there are still a lot of men who feel uncomfortable if anyone finds out their wife’s name. In similar situations the woman usually runs to her family. The issue is then handed to male members of the family to deal with: father, brothers and even cousins gather and teach that bastard a lesson. I don’t mean to generalize, but that is one of the popular solutions.

  Before the invasion women had the legal right to sue an abusive husband, jail him and then divorce him, but women didn’t make use of this right because of the social rules. Women are now gradually losing their rights under the post-invasion laws, and one day they may have no legal status. There have been attempts to cancel the legal rights women have worked so hard to gain over the past century, and to make the subjugation of women official.

  Tomorrow is your birthday and our day for going to the visa section: yes, the letter HAS arrived! So, lovely Sis, have a very happy thirty-seventh birthday. I will celebrate with you from Jordan and wish you all the best for the next 100 years.

  A big cuddle for Elsa

  May xxxx

  16.10.08

  WE DID IT!

  Well, it’s just the best birthday present ever.
Yesterday was stressful enough with you submitting your papers and sending me texts asking about letters etc., but today was the final step. The big thumbs up, or down! I sent you a text message of support this morning, trying to be optimistic. But then it dawned on me at the same moment that this time I really have no Plan B; there was nowhere to go if the embassy rejected your visa applications, nothing to say.

  So when the phone rang and I heard Ali shouting, I had a huge adrenalin rush, and actually it’s still subsiding. My legs have gone wobbly and that stomach-churning feeling is still there. I texted all my mates saying simply ‘May & Ali got their visas’ and floods of texts came back. A lot of people have had to listen to me rambling on about this and have become interested in you. There is so much love and support for you both.

  So then I sat down to write this letter, as I want to remember this moment, this sunny autumn day, the day after my birthday, when we FINALLY BEAT THE BAD LUCK!!

  We did it!

  Bee X

  17.10.08

  We are coming

  Dearest Bee

  WE DID IT, yes we did. I can’t describe how Ali and I feel. When you called in the afternoon we were having lunch at a café, and were too scared to finish because we knew we would have to go and collect the results of our visa applications. At 5 p.m. we moved, got a taxi and went to World Bridge. They wouldn’t let us both in, so I went in alone. The man handed me two envelopes and when I asked him about the results he said he didn’t know. I opened the first envelope and there was my passport. It involuntarily opened at a page with a stamp that had my photo and the words ‘Entry Clearance’. Then I had to sit down and open Ali’s envelope. I just couldn’t believe my eyes. His had the same thing. I went out and found him waiting, his face pale.

  I played my last trick on him. I changed my face to look sad, and turned to face him. He tried hard to ask and when he managed at last to say, ‘May, what are the results?’ I burst out laughing and shouted, ‘Congratulations! We made it!’ The security guards at the door were all looking at us, and they laughed when Ali explained to them what I’d done.