Finally, my sister’s family subscribed to a wireless internet service in their house after a long term ordeal of using Uruk, the worst dial-up service ever. Either she or my brother-in-law is online most of the time since they have nowhere to go to and nothing else to do. Now I can find them online whenever I want to know if they are ok. It always delights me to see their IM’s emoticon yellow! That means they are alive.
Yesterday morning, my sister and I had a voice chat. We used the webcams to see each other as well. This lovely small, round and black device took me home on the screen. We talked about how my family and hers were doing. We talked about how I am coping in this different complicated world. Then I heard my niece’s voice. “Bring her over,” I told my sister. “I want to see her.”
“Nunush, come say hi to uncle B.” Through the camera, I saw her running towards her mother. My sister pulled her up and put her face close to the cam. She looked so lovely wither Tweety pajamas and curly hair. My sister gave her the mic. “Alo,” Nunush said. “Halaw,” she continued using the Iraqi “hello” which was originated from English. “Halaw Nunush. Halaw Habibti,” I responded. I wanted to jump into the cam to hug her and kiss her. I haven’t seen her for eight months when she was only eight months-old.
Nunush came to life in September 2005 in a day which we all feared was going to be difficult. We were worried about my sister since most pregnant women suffered and many of them died or were killed by explosions or Iraqi and US troops shooting by “mistake”. We were praying that her labor happens during the day so that she does not have to go to the hospital at night during the curfew. Gladly, she called us at 6 a.m. We dressed up immediately and met her and my brother-in-law in the hospital.
It was a great feeling to be there. I was extremely happy to see the new baby. My heart was pounding so fast all day long. I was worried. She is my sister. I don’t know how to explain how I felt but all I could say is I felt miserable when I heard her screaming. Man! After a five-hour waiting, Nunush came to life. She was a tiny cute baby wrapped up by a white shawl. When I carried her, I felt she was my daughter. It was a strange feeling which sometimes I wonder how her father feels if I felt this way! I held her close to my heart and kissed her.
Since that day, Nunush became my spoiled child. I saw her growing every now and then. I took the risk of the dangerous roads to go to my sister’s to see her. My parents joined me as well. She is the new granddaughter in my family and you can imagine how happy my parents are.
Choosing the name was the hardest part. There were many names in my sister’s and brother-in-law’s mind. We even joked that we should use my mother’s students GPA records since she is a teacher and has lists of students’ names! Nunush is not her real name. It’s her nickname which my mother initiateed since “it sounds cute”! They finally agreed on calling her “Yusur”, which means “the ease”. They chose this name predicting and hoping an easy life for her in the future.
Every time I carried Nunush and looked into her eyes, I felt a huge pain in my chest. “Oh you poor baby!” I would say. What kind of life is waiting for you in this destroyed country? Will you ever going to be able to go to school like your parents and your uncle? Will you ever have the chance to play in the playground as we did? Will you ever be able to get the good education we got? All these questions were left without answers until this day.
The day I left my house, my sister came to say good-bye to me. Nunush was there, of course. She was still using her baby walker at the time. She followed me wherever I went. The first word she said wasn’t “mom” or “dad”. It was “Ta’al” which means “come over”. I still remember her following me in her baby walker shouting “Taal, taal” and using her lovely tiny hand to support what she said.
Everybody knows how fast children grow. Nunush now speaks several words. She knows everything around her in her house. Once, my sister said Nunush ran to my room and took my picture frame, kissed it and hugged it. She said she doesn’t forget especially my sister always shows her my pictures. As for me, her picture is in my heart, at my desk, on the TV and on the bookcase. Looking at her face makes my day!
baghdadtreasure@gmail.com
Yesterday morning, my sister and I had a voice chat. We used the webcams to see each other as well. This lovely small, round and black device took me home on the screen. We talked about how my family and hers were doing. We talked about how I am coping in this different complicated world. Then I heard my niece’s voice. “Bring her over,” I told my sister. “I want to see her.”
“Nunush, come say hi to uncle B.” Through the camera, I saw her running towards her mother. My sister pulled her up and put her face close to the cam. She looked so lovely wither Tweety pajamas and curly hair. My sister gave her the mic. “Alo,” Nunush said. “Halaw,” she continued using the Iraqi “hello” which was originated from English. “Halaw Nunush. Halaw Habibti,” I responded. I wanted to jump into the cam to hug her and kiss her. I haven’t seen her for eight months when she was only eight months-old.
Nunush came to life in September 2005 in a day which we all feared was going to be difficult. We were worried about my sister since most pregnant women suffered and many of them died or were killed by explosions or Iraqi and US troops shooting by “mistake”. We were praying that her labor happens during the day so that she does not have to go to the hospital at night during the curfew. Gladly, she called us at 6 a.m. We dressed up immediately and met her and my brother-in-law in the hospital.
It was a great feeling to be there. I was extremely happy to see the new baby. My heart was pounding so fast all day long. I was worried. She is my sister. I don’t know how to explain how I felt but all I could say is I felt miserable when I heard her screaming. Man! After a five-hour waiting, Nunush came to life. She was a tiny cute baby wrapped up by a white shawl. When I carried her, I felt she was my daughter. It was a strange feeling which sometimes I wonder how her father feels if I felt this way! I held her close to my heart and kissed her.
Since that day, Nunush became my spoiled child. I saw her growing every now and then. I took the risk of the dangerous roads to go to my sister’s to see her. My parents joined me as well. She is the new granddaughter in my family and you can imagine how happy my parents are.
Choosing the name was the hardest part. There were many names in my sister’s and brother-in-law’s mind. We even joked that we should use my mother’s students GPA records since she is a teacher and has lists of students’ names! Nunush is not her real name. It’s her nickname which my mother initiateed since “it sounds cute”! They finally agreed on calling her “Yusur”, which means “the ease”. They chose this name predicting and hoping an easy life for her in the future.
Every time I carried Nunush and looked into her eyes, I felt a huge pain in my chest. “Oh you poor baby!” I would say. What kind of life is waiting for you in this destroyed country? Will you ever going to be able to go to school like your parents and your uncle? Will you ever have the chance to play in the playground as we did? Will you ever be able to get the good education we got? All these questions were left without answers until this day.
The day I left my house, my sister came to say good-bye to me. Nunush was there, of course. She was still using her baby walker at the time. She followed me wherever I went. The first word she said wasn’t “mom” or “dad”. It was “Ta’al” which means “come over”. I still remember her following me in her baby walker shouting “Taal, taal” and using her lovely tiny hand to support what she said.
Everybody knows how fast children grow. Nunush now speaks several words. She knows everything around her in her house. Once, my sister said Nunush ran to my room and took my picture frame, kissed it and hugged it. She said she doesn’t forget especially my sister always shows her my pictures. As for me, her picture is in my heart, at my desk, on the TV and on the bookcase. Looking at her face makes my day!
baghdadtreasure@gmail.com
