The Baghdad Reunion

When it comes to vacations, I never say no. It has been six months since the last time I had a vacation with friends. I might have been lucky that I was able to do that when I was in Iraq last June by the time many other people were hardly leaving their houses to school or work.

The last trip I adventured was with my friends Ahmed and Safaa in Iraq. We went to Iraq’s Northern Kurdistan region where we had some of the best times in our lives. Mostly, it was a farewell trip. I decided to take the risk and have fun with my friends as I might not see them in my entire life again.

All that time, I was thinking about how my life was going to be in the US. Different thoughts came into my mind. The first one was how I am going to be a stranger in a new world that has a huge sensitivity against Arabs and Muslims.

When I left Iraq, I cried a lot. Not only for Iraq, but for myself. Everything around me started to change. No family, no friends, and no homeland to see. All faces become different since the airplane landed in Jordan. What eased the pain was Omar’s presence in Amman. We spent a great time together to overcome the sadness inside our hearts.

Shortly after I settled in Philadelphia, Jon, my American friend, came in Philly for a wedding of one of his friends. We met the next day of the wedding. At that day, he invited Omar and I to spend the Thanksgiving holiday with him and his family in Vermont. I didn’t know what Thanksgiving meant at the time but I knew it’s a holiday in which people serve turkey as a tradition.

Omar and I encircled November 23^rd in our calendars to make sure we don’t have other plans on that day. We made plans for the trip. Jon and I were in touch to make sure everything goes perfect.

Since this holiday is one of the biggest in the U.S., Jon advised me to buy the ticket earlier. So I bought it few weeks before the holiday to make sure I find a seat on the train. Since then, I started preparing for it. I didn’t know what to do. I was so excited, not only about having a vacation but about seeing my friends. Although I have a wonderful group of friends now in Philly but my Baghdad friends lie in a special part in my heart. They are not only friends. They are part of my life in Iraq. The part that is engraved in my mind.

I’ve been in touch a lot with my friend Jill since I came to the U.S. Hearing her voice makes me feel hopeful, strong, and willing to go on with everything that makes me succeed. She is so much like my sister in Iraq whom I terribly miss. Jill was invited by Jon as well as my former bureau chief in Baghdad.

On Tuesday November 21^st, I took my bags and went to the train station. I was very excited. The moment I entered the station, I received a text message from Omar saying his friend’s father was kidnapped. I was shocked! I thought it’s not the right time to hear bad news. I just needed to have fun, for God’s sake. As I read the message, million thoughts came into my mind starting from my neighbor who was kidnapped and then found tortured and dead. I called Omar. He was miserable. I tried to calm him down but in vain. It wasn’t only his friend’s father kidnapping but his brother who called him that day crying and pleading for help as well.

The train station was incredibly crowded. Neither I nor the people traveling with me found seats on the train. It’s the crazy holiday, one old woman complained as she was standing next to a young man in his seat looking at her and turning his face in dislike!

As I was making my way to find a seat after a 20-minutes standing, Omar called me. People started staring at me in daze as I spoke with Omar in Arabic. I stared as well and was about to say, “Why are you looking? I didn’t invade your country and abused your people!”. Oh well. I decided not to. I just wanted to have fun and ignore all those who looked at me as if I were an alien coming from another planet. I wonder when the Americans will get out of the bubble they live in.

I took the train to New Haven, CT where Jon lives. The plan was to travel to Boston to meet up with Omar, Jill and our friend and bureau chief. On the next day, we had lunch in a restaurant called “Louis’ Lunch”, a restaurant in New Haven famous for its hamburgers, which opened in 1895. The proprietors claim that Louis' Lunch was, in 1900, the first place in the United States to serve hamburgers as they are known today. Louis' Lunch refuses to sell a hamburger with ketchup or mustard. It's either cheese, tomato, or onion, or not at all. The Louis' Lunch hamburger is served on toast, not buns. As we were eating, one of the sign drew my attention. It read, “This is not Burger King. You don’t get it your way. You take it my way or you don’t get the damn thing.” It reminded me with a sign I saw in New York City last year when I was with Mad Canuck. The sign read, “Don’t even think of parking here.”!!

After that, we drove to Boston. On the way, two friends of Jon came with us. The trip took about two hours. During that time, I closed my eyes in the car to take a nap after a long day I had with Jon and his other friend exploring New Haven. As I closed my eyes, I thought about my family and other Iraqis. How many Iraqis were closing their eyes with tears falling on their pillows at that moment, I asked myself. I found no answer.

Finally, the reunion happened. We united again after a long time of nostalgia. I was very happy. I even forgot all the sad things at that moment. I felt I was in Baghdad, not in Boston. It was so weird to see them here.

Altogether, we went to Vermont where Jon’s family lives. Jon was driving while all of us chatted all the way to his family’s house remembering the old days in Baghdad with their sweetness and bitterness.

It was about 10:30 p.m. when I we arrived. We took our bags out of the trunk and marched towards the family house. As we stepped in, I noticed something familiar, the smell. It was like the smell in my house. With a big smile, Jon’s family welcomed us in their beautiful house. Dinner was served. We joined them eating a variety of delicious food.

The trip was long but I never felt tired. I was happy and excited. It was the very first thing that made me happy since I arrived in the States. After dinner, Jon directed us to our rooms. The room which Omar and I shared was his brothers’. A blue-colored square room decorated with pictures of him and his brothers playing hockey. A group of prizes were lined up on the bookcases and dresser marking the brothers’ achievements in sports.

Before we slept, Omar and I went to Jon’s room. It was his room since he was born. A nice small room that almost looks like his brothers’. I asked him to show us old pictures of him. He grabbed some photo albums. The three of us sat on the bed and saw the pictures of young and teenage Jon. We laughed as if we have never laughed before. Then Jon pulled a flute that looks like my father’s. He started playing. Silence followed. He played the Iraqi National Anthem. Omar and I looked at each other in happiness. “How did you do that?” I asked Jon happily. He smiled and didn’t answer. I couldn’t believe that this was not a dream. I couldn’t even imagine that three of us who used to laugh, joke, and sometimes fight in Baghdad were together again. It was such a nice feeling. I think I wouldn’t be able to be fair in describing it.

We went to sleep. I was so excited that I couldn’t sleep at first. I closed my eyes and a flashback of memories of my life with my friends at the office came into my mind.

The next day, I didn’t wake up early. I heard the sound of the anthem again. I immediately knew it was Jon. He was playing it at the door to wake us up. It was such a great start that made my day. I took a shower after Omar did and went down to have breakfast with the whole family. We had breakfast and then we started chatting to get to know each other.

Jon has such great parents. His father is exactly my father, an educated, calm man whom you like from the first word he speaks. His mother is so lovely. She reminded me with my mother, a smiling happy woman whom everybody loves. Jon’s sister, a public school teacher, is so friendly and his brother, a painter, looks like him a lot.

The weather was great. It was chilly but sunny. Jon, Omar, and our bureau chief and I decided to have a walk in the meadows that encircle the whole house. Jill was still asleep by that time. We put on our coats and went out enjoying the wonderful nature that almost looks like the nature in northern Iraq.

Unlike its overdeveloped neighbors to the south, east, and west, Vermont was a state of nature. The meadows were green despite the cold weather. The trees were lined up next to each other like a comb. The air was fresh and mixed with the smell of the grass and the leaves on the trees. I was walking joyfully. I wanted to dance, to jump and be crazy. I imagined my family and friends in Iraq with me. I wanted them there enjoying this beautiful piece of heaven. I loved everything there, even the green and black mail boxes that reminded me with the American cartoons we used to watch when we were kids. We returned back and saw Jill awake. So we decided to have another tour. This time, it was by car. We went to the downtown. We joked, laughed, and took pictures to record these wonderful times.

At lunch time, the house was amazingly crowded by friends and relatives. They were all lovely and friendly. When I was among them, I never felt I don’t know them. They were like my family. As we were having lunch, Jon’s father turned on the CD player and put an audio CD of Iraqi songs and music. Naseer Shamma playing his wonderful lute pieces and Kadhum al-Sahir singing happy songs. I found out later that he burned them on a CD from the internet specifically for us, Omar and me. “No, don’t sigh,” al-Sahir sang. “Laughter will be back in a while and the fire in your chest will quell.”

The song came at the right time. I felt a little bid sad as I heard the news of the car bombing in Sadr City and the tension that happened afterwards. I didn’t know about until a produce from the BBC radio called me and told me about it. I was so worried about my family. Jon’s father handed me the phone to call them and make sure they are OK. When I called them, they tried to hide their fears and asked me to enjoy my time and never think about what is happening there. It was impossible, of course. However, I felt relieved to hear their voices. I needed to know they were still alive and nothing bad happened to them.

It was the Thanksgiving night. Food was made joyfully by most of the family members during the whole day. Jon’s mother made the turkey. Before dinner, Omar lit the candles in the chandelier in the big room, which was built in the late 1700s. After that he brought his computer and made Jon’s entire family enjoy watching a slideshow of Jon’s photos with us in our Baghdad Bureau. As they sat lined up at the sofa and the floor, they stared and laughed out loud at the funny pictures that Jon and we took in the Baghdad Bureau. They were historical pictures of a group of friends going through happy and sad times.

At 5 p.m., we gathered in the big room. Jon’s father installed his high-tech camera and put it on a timer. We took our seats and the camera shot three photos of all of us. Before we dug in, Jon’s father gave a toast. He welcomed all the attendees-family and friends- and invited all of us to visit his wonderful house and family again.

After dinner, we enjoyed deserts while chatting and talking about different topics. Then, we went to the living room to watch TV. One of the channels was showing “Live from Baghdad”, a movie about how CNN crew covered the 1991 Gulf war in Iraq. Personally, I didn’t like the movie as there were so many untrue details in it like the information minister sipping tea with the CNN reporter who appeared smoking in Saddam’s palace before interviewing him, not to mention the painters drawing Saddam’s visage in the middle of the street. All these never happened because Saddam was very strict about such things.

The next day, we spent the whole day touring in the city. At night, we were divided into two groups. We went to the movies. Jill, two of Jon’s best friends and I watched “Babel” while Jon, Omar and our bureau chief watched “The Queen”. Tow days later, Jon, his sister and I drove back to New Haven while the others returned back to their homes by train, bus, and airplane.

It was such a wonderful trip. It was nice not only because of the place but because of the warmth and loveliness of all the people I met there. I will never forget it in my entire life.

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