riverbendblog.blogspot.com -> riverbendblog.blogspot.com/
And while I, personally, am very interested in the custom leather interiors of the latest Audi, I couldnt seem to draw myself away from Al-Jazeera and Al-Arabia while 700 Iraqis were being killed. To lessen the feelings of anti-Americanism, might I make a few suggestions? When Mark Kimmett stutters through a press conference babbling about precision weapons and military targets in Falloojeh, who is he kidding? Falloojeh is a small city made up of low, simple houses, little shops and mosques. Is he implying that the 600 civilians who died during the bombing and the thousands injured and maimed were all insurgents? What Im trying to say is that we dont need news networks to make us angry or frustrated. All you need to do is talk to one of the Falloojeh refugees making their way tentatively into Baghdad;
Over 300 are dead in Falloojeh and they have taken to burying the dead in the town football field because they arent allowed near the cemetery. The bodies are decomposing in the heat and the people are struggling to bury them as quickly as they arrive. The football field that once supported running, youthful feet and cheering fans has turned into a mass grave holding men, women and children. The people in Falloojeh have been trying to get the women and children out of the town for the last 48 hours but all the roads out of the city are closed by the Americans and refugees are being shot at and bombed on a regular basis were watching the television and crying. The hospital is overflowing with victims those who have lost arms and legs those who have lost loved ones.
The south isnt much better the casualties are rising and theres looting and chaos. The faces are grim and sad all at once and theres a feeling of helplessness that cant be described in words. Its like being held under water and struggling for the unattainable surface- seeing all this destruction and devastation. Firdaws Square, the place where the statue was brought down, is off-limits because the Americans fear angry mobs and demonstrations but it doesnt matter because people are sticking to their homes. The kids havent been to school for several days now and even the universities are empty. The situation in Baghdad feels very unstable and the men in the neighborhood are talking of a neighborhood watch again- just like the early days of occupation.
I flip the channel every time they show shots of Baghdad up in flames, I turn off the radio as they begin to talk about the first few days of occupation, and I quietly leave the room as family members begin, Remember how No, I dont want to remember some of the worst days of my life. I wish there was some way one could selectively delete certain memories as one does files on a computer however, thats impossible. The day our darling Puppet Council has chosen to represent our National Day the day the occupation became not a possibility, but a definite reality. We were all sleeping in the living room because the drapes were heavy and offered some small security against shattering glass.
The weather was already warm, but the blankets would protect the kids against glass. Their older daughter was, luckily, still sound asleep- lost in a dream or nightmare. I sensed her trying to read my face for some small reassurance I smiled tightly, Go back to sleep After a few more colossal explosions, we all knew sleep would be useless. It was still too early for breakfast and no one was in the mood anyway. My mother and I got up to check the bags we had packed, and waiting, by the door. We had packed the bags during the first few days of war they contained some sturdy clothes, bottles of water, important documents like birth certificates and ID papers, and some spare money. They were to remain by the door in case the ceiling came crashing down or the American tanks came plowing through the neighborhood. In either case, we were given specific instructions to run for the door and take out the bags, Dont wait for anyone- just run and take the bags with you came the orders. An area just across the main street had been invaded by tanks and we could hear the gun shots and tanks all night.
She sat in the middle of her two children and held them close on either side. She hadnt spoken to her parents in almost a week now there were no telephones to contact them and there was no way to get to their area. She was beyond terrified at this crucial point she was certain that they were all dead or dying and the only thing that seemed to be keeping her functioning was the presence of her two young daughters. All I could do was react to the explosions- flinch when one was particularly powerful, and automatically say a brief prayer of thanks when another was further away. Every once in a while, my brain would clear enough to do some mindless chore, like fill the water pots or fold the blankets, but otherwise, I felt numb. It was almost noon when the explosions calmed somewhat and I risked going outside for a few moments. The planes were freely coming and going and, along with the sound of distant gunshots, only they pierced the eerie silence. My mother joined me outside a few minutes later and stood next to me under a small olive tree. In case we have to leave, there are some things I want to be sure you know she said, and I nodded vaguely, studying a particularly annoying plane we were calling buggeh or bug, as it made the sound of a mosquito while it flew. We later learned it was a surveyor plane that scanned certain areas for resistance or Iraqi troops. The documents in the bag contain the papers for the house, the car I was alert. I turned to her and asked, But why are you telling me this- you know I know. We packed the stuff together and you know everything anyway She nodded assent but added, Well, I just want to be sure in case something happens if we You mean if we get separated for some reason? You have to know where everything is and what it is By then, I was fighting hard against tears. I swallowed with difficulty and concentrated harder on the planes above. I wondered how many parents and kids were having this very same conversation today. She continued talking for a few moments and seemed to introduce a new and terrible possibility that I hadnt dared to think about all this time- life after death.
There were moments when I was sure wed all be dead in a matter of seconds- especially during the horrific shock and awe period. But I always took it for granted that wed all die together- as a family. Wed either survive together or die together it was always that simple. As we sat there, she talking, and I retreating further and further into the nightmare of words, there was a colossal explosion that made the windows rattle, and even seemed to shake the sturdy trees in the little garden. I jumped, relieved to hear that sound for the very first time in my life it was the end of that morbid conversation and all I could think was, saved by the bomb. We spent the rest of the day listening to the battery-powered radio and trying to figure out what was happening around us. The day we sensed that the struggle in Baghdad was over and the fear of war was nothing compared to the new fear we were currently facing. It was the day I saw my first American tank roll grotesquely down the streets of Baghdad- through a residential neighborhood. There are thousands who werent so lucky- they lost loved ones on April 9 to guns, and tanks and Apaches and the current Governing Council want us to remember April 9 fondly and hail it our National Day a day of victory but whose victory?
The atmosphere is charged and the day before yesterday, Baghdad was quiet and empty, almost the calm before the storm. The area of Aadhamiya in Baghdad is seeing street fighting: the resistance and Americans are fighting out in the streets and Al-Sadr city was bombed by the troops. Falloojeh has been cut off from the rest of Iraq for the last three days. Yesterday they said that the only functioning hospital in the city was hit by the Americans and theres no where to take the wounded except a meager clinic that can hold up to 10 patients at a time. There are over a hundred wounded and dying and theres nowhe...
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