I think I am finally ready to put my fingers to the keyboard and try put some words together whilst attempting to be coherent as possible. Maybe I’ll try making sense of the world somewhere along the line. I think the Middle Eastern uprisings have taken me out of the sluggish and depressed mood I’ve been in. But what really did it was what I stayed up watching last night; the protests in Iraq.
I have just spent 7 weeks in Iraq. I had hoped to blog quite often about what I saw and what I experienced but between the lack of electricity and my grandfather getting sick – blogging took a back seat. My reflections were reduced to late nights wrapped in blankets with a torchlight in one hand and a pen in the other.
My grandfather then passed away while I was there. May his soul rest in peace. Allah yir7ama. I am sensitive and quite emotional so it was one of the hardest things for me to deal with. Of course I can be a rock at times when it is needed, but at other times I just break down and this was one of those times. You see, I am not an Iraqi that has lived through war; I am not an Iraqi that has lived through pain and suffering in Iraq. I lived in the West; I was safe and sound while my family slept with guns under their pillows, while they tried to get on with their daily lives to the rhythm of war drums. Such experiences make you strong. Such experiences make you ruthless. Such experiences give you a heart of steel. My nerves will never be as tough as those who have lived in Iraq their entire life. I couldn’t accept the fact that hospitals refused to take him in, it was just not right. I had so much resentment towards the failure of a system we have in Iraq and whilst I would never question the will of God I still sometimes think about what would have happened if we actually had real hospitals and doctors in Iraq.
I was so depressed when i came home (although, i consider Baghdad home – but whatever). I felt like there was no hope. I felt like I had all the hope ripped out of me. I felt so disgusted at what i saw. I hated thinking about what Iraq has become and what the Iraqi people have become. I am an idealist; I have crazy ideas and plans and have a utopia in mind for Iraq when I think 10 years down the line. However the more I visit and stay in Iraq, the more I become a realist… or maybe even a pessimist. I came to see things for how they really were. And I assure you, it was not fun. It was eye-opening yet heart breaking more than ever. My dreams fade that little bit more every time I think about what’s really going on in Iraq.
As soon as i came back it was head first into arguments with Iraqi’s who believe that Iraq is now liberated. These arguments make me die a little on the inside each and every time. I just can’t believe I’m still having these same conversations with people. How is it at all possible for people to have such messed up opinions? These idiots live in the West; they live comfortable lives and try to forget the reality in Iraq on a daily basis. If it was so liberated why don’t they bloody move back there!? They have no idea what really happens in Iraq. They barely know what happened in the 2003 war let alone anything before that. Please go pick up a history book you apathetic Iraqis. I don’t even know why I bother sometime. It is just a waste of time and energy.
I have many things to share and stories to tell about the experiences I have had in Iraq. I will post what I saw and heard accordingly in following posts. But first, the Iraqi protests…