Leaving Baghdad...
It’s been eight months since the last time I came to the United States. Time passed so quickly in Baghdad despite the daily ordeal and struggle to live and work in a country falling apart day after day.
In Baghdad, I worked day and night to save for my upcoming education. As may some of you know that I am going to study the M.A. in Writing Studies. In the dairy I wrote last winter, I mentioned that I visited one of the universities in Philadelphia and met with the director of admissions who strongly encouraged me to apply for the graduate studies and that’s what I did.
I did all my best to stay alive. I increased the precaution measures to make it safe to America. It wasn’t easy, not at all. I wanted everything to be perfect to go study and make my family proud of me. Being away from them is hard but being among them unsafe is even harder.
My mother, who was always worried about me especially when the civil war reached its peak, was more than worried. She wanted me to go to a safer country until I finish my university paperwork. It was really hard to convince her that I needed the money I got from my job. “I’ll sell everything to get money to make you safe and out of here,” she told me several times.
My father was hiding his fears. He was so happy that I am going to achieve two things out of this new life: get out safe and get a higher degree from an international university. It reminded him with Iraq’s golden age back in the seventies when he was able to go study in Leeds in England.
I received all my necessary documents, including the ones the university sent, by July 10. “No need to wait,” parents insisted and I agreed. I booked on the nearest flight from Baghdad to Amman. I needed to go to Jordan to apply for an interview at the US embassy to get the student visa and go to the U.S. afterwards. The biggest U.S. embassy in the world, which is in Baghdad, does not give any services to Iraqi citizens.
Amman...
I think you’ve read about the biggest thing that happened in Amman, meeting up with most of the Iraqi bloggers. Amman is boring to the bone and the Jordanians are mean to the bone. They hate Iraqis.
By the time I met with my Iraqi blog friends, I had the visa interview done. I can’t lie and say I wasn’t worried. Many things are happening in the Middle East that has to do with America and the Arab world. However, the interview went more than perfect. I didn’t have to wait for months like what happened to some students. Instead, the consular said I am qualified. She issued me the visa on the same day.
Travel plans started again. 24 Steps and I bought plane tickets immediately after we got our visas in the passports. This time we are going to be really far from our families and beloved ones. It’s going to be even harder for us. The night before we left was really hard for me to endure. It was even harder from the night I left Baghdad. Tears were hard to be stopped from falling. When I called my parents, I wished I could go back and be among them. They are alone there. They can’t even see my relatives easily anymore. They are stuck in the house without going anywhere but the market which they go to for no more than 15 minutes to buy necessary stuff. My father told me several things I should do and my mother encouraged me a lot to be strong and do my best in school which I promised them of.
Washington D.C.
By now, my new life has started. Washington D.C. was my first step. Due to all news about how tight the security measures are and how Arabs are “monitored”, I expected to be stuck at the airport for at least three hours like what happened to me last year. I was prepared for this. I had nothing wrong to be afraid of. Let it take ten hours. I have all my documents. When I submitted my passport and documents, they asked me to have a seat. Five minutes later, the officer said, “you are all set. Welcome to America.” I was really surprised. Just five minutes?! That’s really not bad.
I got my baggage and went to the waiting hall where R., our friend and former Bureau chief was waiting for us. Suddenly, I heard a shout of a woman. She ran towards me. “Oh my god!” I was shouting and jumping out of happiness as I was hugging her tightly. It was Jill, of course. I was really happy to see her. She came all the way from Boston to meet us along with R.
Philadelphia...
I stayed one day in D.C. and took the train the next day to Philadelphia. P., J2’s husband was waiting for me. He took me to their house first where I saw J2, one of my best friends who helped me greatly in getting accepted as a graduate student by the University. It was a great day I spent with them.
The next day, I went to the university. I had many things to do starting from the first thing which is to be reported as attended to school on time. I don’t want to have any immigration problems.
On the first weekend, I had free time. J2 was busy with some important stuff. So I didn’t want to bother her and her family. On Saturday, I woke up at 8 a.m., dressed up, and went out for a tour in the city. I didn’t know what to do first. Then, I decided to go to downtown Philadelphia. At the orientation, I was advised to take the bus and that’s what I actually did.
The downtown looked incredibly gorgeous. The skyscrapers, fountains, streets, fountains, statues, and everything looked so beautiful. Philadelphia’s impressive and massive City Hall could never be avoided from seeing. The area around the city Hall was fascinating. It was full of work of art which is believed to be more than in any other city in the United States. On the way to Center Square Plaza at 15th street and Market streets, I could decide for myself. Market street was my favorite stop. I spent more than three hours in this street between drinking coffee at Starbucks and shopping in K-Mart and some other stores.
It’s been almost a month since I arrived to Philly. I am settled now in my new apartment which J2 found for me. It’s just across the street from campus. I don’t have a roommate because I am a person who loves his privacy.
I spent the last weekend with a friend of mine, an American reporter whom we worked together in Baghdad. He came from Boston to attend a wedding of a relative of his friend. We met on Sunday. He took me to Pat’s, Philadelphia’s most famous cheese stakes’ restaurants. We took the cab to Pat’s. on the way, the nosy taxi driver asked us where we come from? My friend told him that he came from Boston and that I came from Baghdad. Silence followed. “Oh the enemy, you mean? I should report you to the CIA!” the driver said. I can’t deny that I was not surprised. He was the first American who reacted like this in front of me. Most of Philadelphia’s people are liberal and that’s what made me love this city. I wonder if Iraq invaded
It did not surprise me to get such reaction. He is one of the millions of Americans who watch TV only. I wasn’t surprised to see how the U.S. TV stations poorly cover the war in Iraq. Since I was in Iraq, I read how small number of American people knows what is really happening. I’ve been watching the news channels for about a month and I have never seen a report on Iraq for more than five minutes. Even the five minutes report showed part of the U.S.-Iraqi military second sweep that started in Baghdad after the failure of the first one few months ago.
Anyway, I think that was a long entry. It’s 2 a.m. here. I have to go to sleep. I have piles of assignments, papers, news to read and some other things to do! Have a nice weekend.
baghdadtreasure@gmail.com
Leaving Baghdad...
