Walls

Back in the 1990s I used to hate the fact that the dictator’s pictures and statues were everywhere. There were times when I wished I could no longer recognize his face, which might have made good material for the poor artists, for his wrinkles, intimidating looks and bushy eyebrows – I must admit though the guy had beautiful eyes – but for me it was more of a punch line. Isn’t it amazing that those loathsome pictures are no longer on display! Better yet, pictures of men in black turbans or other shapes of headgears – once acclaimed heroes - still exist, but have become less now, reflecting the Iraqis’ disdain of religiously-cloaked vampires, who were once revered and put upon pedestals.

The picture is never perfect though. I couldn’t help feeling a pang of sadness by the sight of lofty grayish concrete walls separating Baghdad neighbourhoods. Some are gaudily painted with flowers, mismatching stripes, the new star-free Iraqi flag, painted pictures of the marshes (in southern Iraq), palm trees and historical ruins, and slogans encouraging unity and renouncing sectarianism - the kind of ism that is currently linked to the people of Baghdad, the same place that used to be a living example of co-existence.

Iraqis still amaze me with their sense of creativity though. Shopkeepers cannot afford running their businesses behind those choking blast walls, so they collectively made some calligrapher’s day, whose business of announcing recent deaths with neat handwriting on black shrouds might be in jeopardy - as news reports claim violence in Baghdad is dwindling.

Those walls might have reduced Baghdad to the ugliest and most traffic-congested city on earth, and turned Iraqis into tourists on their own turf or more like video game characters, who have to guess where the entrance to the ghetto is located or reach a challenging level by finding their hidden mechanic’s shop, but on the other hand they made those calligraphers the happiest of the lot – after military convoys of course.

May you rest in peace

There is nothing I like more than shopping and I just go livid if I don’t find the good stuff that I keep hunting high and low to get hold of. I was so gutted to learn that Iraq’s top-notch henna, locally known as Fao, is now out of stock. Unlike the Indian and Iranian dubious imports, which have taken the Iraqi market by storm, Fao is simply the best; 100 percent organic, zero additives and although the pack is not glossy, it gives the best results a henna addict can ask for.

Luckily I have a few grams to see me through my stay in Baghdad!

Apparently henna is not the only Iraqi product that has faced extinction. Date was also doomed, thanks to the advent of Iranian imports. Before my return, all my co-workers, who were shopping for presents to their families, thought I was the luckiest given that my destination is THE land of palm trees that is, in theory, abounding with quality dates, often sold at outrageous prices! For me this brown little thing is staple food, a kind of medication that I cannot do without. I’ve tasted all sorts of dates of different origins – I must admit the Kuwaiti aces all and Iraq’s ranks second only in my opinion –ours is still excellent! Most Iraqi houses have grown palm trees in their gardens. My family thought it was a bad idea because palm trees are known as being magnets for humongous scary rats, so they gave it a miss and have been begging for good dates ever since!

I don’t mind imports. In fact I think it’s a good sign that Iraq is now more open to the world. I’m not business savvy but I think successful businessmen listen to their customers and live up to their needs, and what I need is homegrown henna and dates!

Return of the Jinx

They say I’ve jinxed the place again. Iraqis are too superstitious and once they read this, they will collectively sign a petition to the PM asking him to send me away. Iraq was heaven on earth until my return. All those deadly explosions ripped through the quiet streets of Baghdad because of … well make a wild guess!

I could feel the bad vibes the moment I set foot on Baghdad International Airport. First time in my life I’m treated like a criminal on my own turf. The guy behind the booth seemed to have smelled a rat once he browsed my passport; called a man in a suit, who looked like his supervisor, whispered something and then the latter asked me what I do for a living, I didn’t know whether I should lie, but I thought it’s better to say the truth and come what may, if they’re militiamen so be it, I was too exhausted anyway and getting killed sounded like a perfect idea at the time, I was in a very bad need to sleep. Finally they asked me to pose for their security camera, so I did, not knowing whether it’s just routine procedure or I just looked familiar, as in a wanted terrorist maybe!

My early nights in Baghdad were the hardest; It’s been almost a year since I last had a fitful sleep over possible 2:30-a.m.-break-ins. “Those days are gone,” says my family. I wish I could be as relaxed as they are or explain that terrible premonition that’s washing over me. To my surprise, I contracted their attitude eventually, but still don’t want to overdo it lest I won’t see the blow when it’s coming!

I haven’t seen Baghdad until now nor have I ventured outside not for fear of explosions, I’m just being lazy and believe I need to make the most of my now boss-free life!

War Has no winners (No I'm not back to the blogosphere)

I received this note from Veteran Liaison for the MesotheliomaCancer Center (Asbestos.com); an organization devoted to assisting veteransthrough their application processes for VA benefits, and helping them obtainthe maximum benefits for which they are entitled. I’m also a VeteransBenefit Counselor for the Veterans Assistance Network, and a retiredLieutenant Commander in the US Navy. I came across your site while searchingfor bloggers who post about veterans' issues.Countless veterans are currently suffering from life-threatening illnessesthat are a result of exposure to asbestos, a material that was commonly usedin hundreds of military applications, products, and ships primarily becauseof its resistance to fire. Unfortunately, asbestos-related diseases are notalways recognized by the VA, which is why I’m reaching out to veterans -- inhopes of helping them win the rights to their benefits.The Mesothelioma Cancer Center provides a complete list of occupations,ships, and shipyards that could have put our Veterans at risk for developingasbestos-related diseases. In addition, they have thousands of articlesregarding asbestos and mesothelioma and they’ve even created aveterans-specific section on their website in order to help inform themabout the dangers of asbestos exposure. The main reason I’m contacting you is to see if you’d be interested inposting an article about military asbestos exposure on your blog.

Asbestos Threat Still Prevalent for Military Personnel



Asbestos was widely used in various industrial products throughout the 20th century due to its heat and flame resistant qualities, it was regularly considered as a form of insulation and piping. The United States military ordered the use of asbestos in all of its sectors, including the Navy.



Hundreds of thousands, if not millions of living veterans were exposed to asbestos-containing materials during their service. Asbestos was valued so high that its use was widespread until the 1970’s, when it began to be phased out.

Asbestos-laden materials were utilized in almost every vessel built prior to World War II. Shipyard workers, sailors and tradesman aboard these ships were wrongfully exposed aboard navigation rooms, sleeping quarters and mess halls. These shipyards were vital in efforts to build and repair ships on the west and east coasts of the country. The military also used asbestos as insulation aircraft, vehicles and buildings. Although asbestos exposure does not always lead to an illness, frequent and long term exposure will greatly raise those risks.



The danger for asbestos exposure is still present today with over $194,000 worth of asbestos imported to Iraq in 2003. Aside from daily threats from military assignments and enemy fire,

Soldiers stationed in Iraq based in the country are at risk because intense desert winds can carry asbestos dust many miles.



Asbestos exposure can cause serious illnesses such as asbestosis and mesothelioma, a severe lung ailment that accounts for three percent of cancer diagnoses in the United States. Mesothelioma metastasis can occur when the illness spreads through the lymph nodes or the blood stream. This can occur in the disease later stages as it can take anywhere from 20 to 50 years for mesothelioma to develop, making it extremely difficult for physicians to accurately diagnose this disease.



The amount of asbestos-related incidents in the country has resulted in mesothelioma lawyer firms advocating and protecting victim’s individual rights. Asbestos manufactures have been heavily criticized for concealing and not acting enough to inform the public of the dangers associated with asbestos exposure. Any incoming presidents have the authority to change any executive orders by a previous administration but these actions will make it a more strenuous process.



Currently, mesothelioma is not readily recognized as a service-related medical ailment. However, veterans can apply for Veteran Affairs (VA) benefits for asbestos-related illness and must provide proof that their exposure occurred at the time of their military service.It appears that until there is a vehement change in policies enforced on a federal level against the use of asbestos, it will continue to inflict damage and harm to yet another generation of innocent by standards.

Baghdad ---- The Finale

My vacation is over. I did make the most of it and yes my muse will get back to its beauty sleep, which might take forever, because I don’t think I will return to Iraq until the Baghdad airport is in better shape. The departure was as terrible as the arrival though no neighbouring head of state was involved this time; of all flights mine was cancelled and of all the people I was one of the few fellow passengers who were not informed earlier of the disastrous inconvenience.

I do learn from my mistakes and I guess I must impart the dos and don’ts at Baghdad airport:

Always wear grey or beige, clothes will be smeared all over.
Never wear footwear with tricky shoelaces. If you have smelly feet, don’t worry, no one will notice, other passengers are busy cursing the funny regulations. Always make space for a comfy pillow; you’ll never know you might spend the night there. Never trust your instinct and have some sense of adventure, not all cab drivers who look like thugs are true militiamen, and if they were, cheer up, they might be the key to your demise, an option you’d rather consider than go through debilitating experience. Don’t bother ask the information desk or anyone in uniform, they’re always clueless. Look for grumpy passengers who like to complain, they’re the ones who will tell you when HER MAJESTY THE PLANE will show up.

Oh Gosh! This is too spiteful. Some credit must be given to the Iraqi staff members, they were so very courteous and tried their best to make matters look less ugly than they really are; it’s just beyond their control.


This wraps up my Baghdad series. Thanks for being such ardent readers and زوج ابن 16 زوج الي يفكر يمر بهالمطار الزبالة.

Baghdad --- Snapshots

You think you can read the neon sign?

We have a WINNER

Call the Ministry of Electricity to collect your prize

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Answer: restaurant formerly known as happy time, yeah right!

Who turned the lights on???

Why don't I miss the sandstorms!

My fave BLACK TEA with cardamom

Positive Thoughts

Baghdad ---- I Can't Help But Notice

Somebody pinch me I cannot believe I have actually reunited with my favourite aunt; still cheery but this time her wistful eyes reflect the bewilderment over the calamities that have struck her family. I couldn’t hide my dislike to the new neighbourhood or the fact that I miss their old garden, particularly the jasmine tree, which is almost my age but sadly it’s no longer there to welcome me with its soft fragrance. My cousins didn’t concur with me, they miss their home but it’s now more of a nightmare to them. One of them said she can still hear the loud screams of their neighbour and the gunshots that ended his life, the early premonitions of their own displacement. Theirs is one of the luckiest families living in the militias’ stronghold of Saydiyya, they might be the only ones who left without bereavement.

I was so worn out but so reluctant to take a nap, I didn’t want to miss a moment at this new cozy house; I had loads of laughs and plenty of fun. Despite their heart-wrenching concerns they tried their best to convince me that life is normal and whenever I try to dwell on a sad subject, they change it right away, for them I’m one of the relics of the good old days that they don’t want to be marred by sad thoughts, so I succumbed to their wishes, stifled my goodbye tears and promised to come over more often.


University of Baghdad





Since I didn’t know how to reach my aunt’s house, I had no other choice but meet her daughter at her workplace so that we go together to the new neighbourhood. That workplace happened to be the University of Baghdad. Last time I came to this place was in 1998, when my sister was still a computer science student. It’s good that it hasn’t changed like the now religiously cloaked University of Mustansiriya. It felt so exhilarating to learn that guys named Omar haven’t gone extinct, young and old men named after one of the great leaders of Islam were killed and mutilated in droves two years ago, when humanity lost its face in the new Iraq. My friend was irritated by my comment that more female students in headscarves these days is a bad sign. She mistook it for having intentions to take mine off, which is out of the question, “Back in my university years, only a handful of girls took the decision to abide by the Islamic dress code, which used to be greeted with congrats and pleas for prayers to be just as brave to make the move, but now they do it to have their lives spared, because obviously militias have resolved all their problems and nothing seems to be left but women’s heads,” I explained.

I was chuffed by the sight of a group of students singing along and dancing. “So they do the things we used to do,” I said, only the song was patriotic, had it been my generation it would have been a sappy ballad.


On the way back, three cab drivers refused to pick me up, the last one agreed but didn’t hide his fears “is it ok there?” he questioned. I explained that I wouldn’t take a cab if it wasn’t, he believed me but was tense all the way through until he saw the Iraqi army checkpoint and servicemen all over my neighbourhood. Only then he realized that he wasn’t going to be ambushed by the enemy.