Riverbend: Summer of goodbyes
http://riverbendblog.blogspot.com/
Saturday, August 05, 2006
Summer of Goodbyes…
Residents of Baghdad are systematically being pushed out of the city.
Some families are waking up to find a Klashnikov bullet and a letter
in an envelope with the words “Leave your area or else.” The culprits
behind these attacks and threats are Sadr’s followers- Mahdi Army.
It’s general knowledge, although no one dares say it out loud. In the
last month we’ve had two different families staying with us in our
house, after having to leave their neighborhoods due to death threats
and attacks. It’s not just Sunnis- it’s Shia, Arabs, Kurds- most of
the middle-class areas are being targeted by militias.
Other areas are being overrun by armed Islamists. The Americans have
absolutely no control in these areas. Or maybe they simply don’t want
to control the areas because when there’s a clash between Sadr’s
militia and another militia in a residential neighborhood, they
surround the area and watch things happen.
Since the beginning of July, the men in our area have been patrolling
the streets. Some of them patrol the rooftops and others sit quietly
by the homemade road blocks we have on the major roads leading into
the area. You cannot in any way rely on Americans or the government.
You can only hope your family and friends will remain alive- not
safe, not secure- just alive. That’s good enough.
For me, June marked the first month I don’t dare leave the house
without a hijab, or headscarf. I don’t wear a hijab usually, but it’s
no longer possible to drive around Baghdad without one. It’s just not
a good idea. (Take note that when I say ‘drive’ I actually mean ’sit
in the back seat of the car’- I haven’t driven for the longest time.)
Going around bare-headed in a car or in the street also puts the
family members with you in danger. You risk hearing something you
don’t want to hear and then the father or the brother or cousin or
uncle can’t just sit by and let it happen. I haven’t driven for the
longest time. If you’re a female, you risk being attacked.
I look at my older clothes- the jeans and t-shirts and colorful
skirts- and it’s like I’m studying a wardrobe from another country,
another lifetime. There was a time, a couple of years ago, when you
could more or less wear what you wanted if you weren’t going to a
public place. If you were going to a friends or relatives house, you
could wear trousers and a shirt, or jeans, something you wouldn’t
ordinarily wear. We don’t do that anymore because there’s always that
risk of getting stopped in the car and checked by one militia or
another.
There are no laws that say we have to wear a hijab (yet), but there
are the men in head-to-toe black and the turbans, the extremists and
fanatics who were liberated by the occupation, and at some point, you
tire of the defiance. You no longer want to be seen. I feel like the
black or white scarf I fling haphazardly on my head as I walk out the
door makes me invisible to a certain degree- it’s easier to blend in
with the masses shrouded in black. If you’re a female, you don’t want
the attention- you don’t want it from Iraqi police, you don’t want it
from the black-clad militia man, you don’t want it from the American
soldier. You don’t want to be noticed or seen.
I have nothing against the hijab, of course, as long as it is being
worn by choice. Many of my relatives and friends wear a headscarf.
Most of them began wearing it after the war. It started out as a way
to avoid trouble and undue attention, and now they just keep it on
because it makes no sense to take it off. What is happening to the
country?
I realized how common it had become only in mid-July when M., a
childhood friend, came to say goodbye before leaving the country. She
walked into the house, complaining of the heat and the roads, her
brother following closely behind. It took me to the end of the visit
for the peculiarity of the situation to hit me. She was getting ready
to leave before the sun set, and she picked up the beige headscarf
folded neatly by her side. As she told me about one of her neighbors
being shot, she opened up the scarf with a flourish, set it on her
head like a pro, and pinned it snuggly under her chin with the
precision of a seasoned hijab-wearer. All this without a mirror- like
she had done it a hundred times over. Which would be fine, except
that M. is Christian.
If M. can wear one quietly- so can I.
I’ve said goodbye this last month to more people than I can count.
Some of the ‘goodbyes’ were hurried and furtive- the sort you say at
night to the neighbor who got a death threat and is leaving at the
break of dawn, quietly.
Some of the ‘goodbyes’ were emotional and long-drawn, to the
relatives and friends who can no longer bear to live in a country
coming apart at the seams.
Many of the ‘goodbyes’ were said stoically- almost casually- with a
fake smile plastered on the face and the words, “See you soon”. Only
to walk out the door and want to collapse with the burden of parting
with yet another loved one.
During times like these I remember a speech Bush made in 2003: One of
the big achievements he claimed was the return of jubilant ‘exiled’
Iraqis to their country after the fall of Saddam. I’d like to see
some numbers about the Iraqis currently outside of the country you
are occupying. Not to mention internally displaced Iraqis abandoning
their homes and cities.
I sometimes wonder if we’ll ever know just how many hundreds of
thousands of Iraqis left the country this bleak summer. I wonder how
many of them will actually return. Where will they go? What will they
do with themselves? Is it time to follow? Is it time to wash our
hands of the country and try to find a stable life somewhere else?
- posted by river @ 12:38 AM