Nice Bombs

It's been a little frustrating speaking to some of my relatives here in the US about returning to Iraq. When my Aunt called me to wish me a happy new year I told her about my plans to return to Iraq and she proceeded to become very upset, exclaiming: no no!

The conversation with my mother was also difficult. But I don't blame her for not wanting me to return. She said: how could you even think about returning?! you were the most terrified from all us during the war with Iran! hiding in the bathroom and shaking from the bombs! why would you return to that!? If you were still young I would punish and send you to the bathroom for two hours!

haha, that made us both of laugh.

She continued why not just live your life with your wife and have kids and settle down and stop looking for drama? why can't you go to Disney world!
I said: I hate Disney world.
She said: when you were a kid you liked Disney world.

Yeah well, when I was a kid I loved Disney world and hated bombs. Now I hate Disney world and love bombs. haha. Okay no more joking. Yes I know this is serious and if I really felt that I was putting my life and wife's life in danger I would not go.

But it's been so long. Even if the experience is negative I still want to see and feel with my own eyes and body what Iraq is experiencing.

Anyway, my Mom continued and said that I really have forgotten how bad it is over there. Perhaps I have.

Maybe I need to forget just enough in order to return.

I'm not trying to make some romantic entrance to the land of my birth. I fully acknowledge that I am very Western. But a part of me is Arab and Iraqi and I can't deny that. And really what the hell does that mean?

I may be returning to find something of my past, something incomplete that I need to sense again. But it's also a little more sensual then that. I just miss Iraq. Even in the darkness, when I was there, I was in awe of my surroundings. It's as if the war with Iran pierced an awareness in me. Not so much an awareness of anything political...not yet, at least, but a sudden halt to my childhood worries- flipped over -to another type of fear. Something greater then my understanding of life. I suppose it is death that I started to ponder. And that idea was frightening. Especially the violent death that war stabbed us with.

I know there must be others in Iraq that have been in a similar situation.

I do hope this trip to Iraq transpires. I don't mind moving the dates if the situation gets worse over there. But I hope that things improve a little bit, if only to keep my mother from worrying so much. Please don't worry. Inshallah we will all be safe from harm.