Two weeks on and lots to learn!

Hi everyone,

I feel quite badly for not having sent a message before this. It has been
a whirlwind existence these past two and a half weeks, mainly full of
meeting new partners (an ever-increasing number of local human rights
organizations especially), and also religious leaders, community leaders,
and lots of Iraqi families with heartbreaking stories to tell. I hope to
share many of these with you soon.

My first observation from my time here in Iraq is that it’s the first
project where I may not come back thinner than when I left. We’ve been
invited to lunch nearly every day this week. ‘Lunch’ is a massive meal,
even bigger than in Palestine, after which we need not eat until the next
morning. The benefit is that we’re all getting out of a lot of cooking
and dishes chores. Some of the people who are inviting us over are
English-speaking Iraqis who haven’t had a foreigner in their house in the
past thirty years and just want to make friends. Such is the case with
Musa (Arabic for Moses), a hyperactive guy who brought us a little vase of
silk flowers and a nice card just and invited us to his home to make
friends and encourage us to stay because so many internationals are
leaving.

My second observation, now after meeting about a hundred Iraqis, is that
everyone we meet says pretty much the same thing, whether they are
religious leaders, human rights workers, mothers of detainees, or
university graduates: It’s kind of nice that Saddam is gone, so thanks
for that, but we don’t need you to occupy us and tell us how to set up a
democracy. (After all, these are the best- and most
internationally-educated people of the middle east.) One university
student summed it up well: “We have oil to pay for our rebuilding, and we
have the knowledge to rebuild our country. So what we _don’t_ need is for
the US to come in as a middleman, profiting from both ends.”

The upsurge in new political parties, independent newpapers, human rights
organizations and social welfare/charitable organizations are all a very
good sign that Iraqis know best how to address their own needs. They’re
not waiting for this US-hand-crafted government to be handed to them, in
fact, they’re pretty much ignoring what they know will be a puppet
government and building their own civil society without any help from our
military. Nobody I met yet has any enthusiasm about the US-appointed
Governing Council. No one even talks about Ahmed Chaluby.

But that's enough politics for today. Otherwise in life, our little team
is doing well. Many people in Baghdad have bought personal water filters,
much to my relief because I've ended up drinking all those proffered
glasses of water I swore I wouldn't before I came here. My younger
teammate, Matthew, admits, "I just say a prayer before every glass." So
far, I have not been seriously ill but have had a two-day respiratory
issue, one heat-exhaustion headache, and one stomach threatening, but not
carrying through with all sorts of evils.

If you want to know what the weather is like right now, I suggest setting
your oven on to bake cookies and then opening it and getting your face
near the racks. Not on the racks, just near. That's exactly what it
feels like when we open the main door to our building. A dry, hot blast
of air. The sweat evaporates immediately. Otherwise, when I go out, I
often am duded up in a polyester suit. This is great for keeping the
sweat next to the skin and cooling me down and getting less dehydrated.
Often I can tell I'm sweating but don't feel warm at all. Strange, but
good.

My Palestinian Arabic is a source of amusement for all who hear it, since
all the colloquialisms I know do not exactly translate into Iraqi Arabic.
People say they understand me just fine, but it's weird. They don't know
the Khalili (Hebron Southerner) jokes here, but think the accent is funny
all the same. I'm finally beginning to catch on to the localisms here.
We don't say Ilhamdulallah, we say Zaen, when you ask how we're doing. We
also ask, 'Shlonich,' or 'what's your color?' instead of 'kief halek' for
'how are you?' And if I want to say okay, (tayeb) I am saying the word
they only use here to describe delicious food.

Tomorrow we are going to the holy (Shi'a) city of Kerbala to meet with
religious authorities and human rights groups there. This weekend we'll
be going to Fallujah to meet with community and tribal leaders after quite
a bit of violence there these past few weeks. We're doing the same amount
of work the Hebron team does, I figure, only there's just half as many of
us doing it. Two more teammates arriving next week will be wonderful.

I am sitting here and chatting with a computer programmer who was tortured
by the security service under Saddam's regime. His elbow is permanently
dislocated. He was using the internet secretly, he says, and now returned
after fleeing to Dubai for three years. He is writing now to a friend he
made from the US military, but is also upset about the bombing and
detainees. I guess he met our team a few weeks ago and wondered why we
are always talking to him about Palestine. I explained that we have a
team there too.

I could write so much more, but it will be dark soon. Security here for
us has not been as much an issue as I thought. The teammates here before
us did a good job of making friends in the neighborhood and we have lots
of people looking out for us. Technically, the building we live in has
security guards, but they are unarmed and live in the building and sit on
the steps and know everyone in the building and their neighborhood. They
also are in charge of starting the generator when the city power goes out.
They're good friends, and I think far better 'security.' Our landlord is
Armenian and studied at al Hakima University which I think was run by
Americans a few decades ago here. He comes to visit often. We went to
St. Raphael's Catholic church last night which has an international
congregation and will probably be our home church here. It's only two
blocks away.

Enough already! Will write more soon.

Peace,

Le Anne