neurotic Iraqi wife

A teacher, a banker. A carpenter, a bricklayer. A secretary, an architect. A computer shop owner, a cell phone shop owner. A taxi driver and a black market fuel seller are the professions that my Iraqi colleagues hide behind. Sam, you read my mind, and its getting scary, cuz that particular subject always intrigued me, and I did ask my colleagues about it before you even mentioned it.

S, the assyrian goddess is an architect by degree. Ever since she graduated she worked in that profession, and so people never really asked where she went every morning, because they presume she is still working for the design company she used to work with. As for her sister, well, she used to be a banker, and now she is a translator here in the GZ, and again, everyone presumes she is still at the bank. As far as what S tells me, the minute they head back home, thats it, they dont leave until the next day to avoid interaction with people, unless they have to go shopping in Karrada. But apart from that, their so called socialising life is spent at home, watching TV. We stopped seeing our friends S said. Its far too dangerous to walk the streets.

N and M are 2 men whose job is to keep our work space spic and span. N and M are father and son who live in the slums of Sadr City. N used to serve in the army, the day of the 9th of April, he took his army clothes off and hid them. He said he walked in the streets on the day of the 10th as a civilian and for the first time in his life he felt free. A free soul, but little did I know he said. He enlisted for work and got a job in Al Rasheed, then they moved him here. I asked N, what do you tell your friends? your neighbours? What do you do for a living? He smiled and said proudly, I tell them I work in a carpenter's shop. He then told me of a story that happend to him a few months ago. He bumped into an aquaintence of his, and the guy after a heated hello and hugs and where have you been all this time asked him where he works. N immediately said I work at a carpenter's shop in a far neighbourhood. And emphasised the word "FAR". The aquaintence nonethelss immediately jumped and said "Oh man, you are gods sent. Im renovating my house and I need to have a few pieces done for the bedroom". Shit N thought to himself, then he replied, well we dont make things, we just repair stuff. I laughed so much. I then said what if the guy insists coming to the shop, what were you gonna do? N said, well, I said to myself if he will insist, then I will have to buy him something just to shut him up.

M on the other hand, the son, doesnt mix with the boys his age except maybe a few that he plays football with. I said to him and you M, what do you say? Do you also work with your father in a carpenter's shop? He smiled, a smile that makes your heart jump. He has cute dimples that makes anyone want to just pinch his cheeks like a little kid. M said, no, I sell fuel in the black market, lol. Wowwww I said, where did you get that idea from? He shrugged then said with a cheeky look, well, a friend of mine does it, so its the easiest thing I say to anyone who asks. Just incase anyone wants fuel, then I can easily call my friend.

S, M and N even W and all the others that work here, make up stories about their jobs just to survive. No one dares to tell the truth. No one dares because the truth simply gets you killed. Its actually fun, I mean making things up. W, always wanted to own a cell phone shop but never had the chance. His cousin owns one, so now whenever someone asks W what he does for a living, he says proudly with a grin on his face, I own a cell phone shop in Arasat. He even orchestrated his absence by telling his cousin, if anyone comes and asks about me, just tell them Im running an errand, or Im taking my wife to see the dr, or Im sick. Just make up any excuse, but never ever forget that Im your partner in this shop, ok???

Then W came a few days later, hey Neurotica (well, no, not really neurotica, but my name) Hey Neurotica, guess what??? Hmm, what? I asked. I sold my share of the shop. What shop I say confused. My imaginery cell phone shop silly!!! ooooooooh, oh ok. Then just as if its real, I showed him my grouchy face, why W??? I liked the shop, you had nice stuff. Well, he said, a cell phone shop is far too dangerous, so now, Im working for a contracting company. You know, just an ordinary job, I think that sounds better, dont you think so??? Umm, I dunno W, I kinda liked the cell phone shop idea, sounded trendier but hey, its whatever you feel like doing. He said, well, I thought about it, owning a cell phone shop makes people think I have money, and so being an ordinary employee in an ordinary company, makes me less well off. Aha I see, well good for you, when is your next promotion, I said smiling. He waved his hand in the air and said, Oh I dunno, I guess when they start targetting contracting companies. Then, I will be in deep shit cuz I have no idea what I will be doing next...He looked at me seriously and said, Any ideas? Umm, no, but I will think of something I said.

Today at lunch with S, I said how do you guys do it??? How can you live like this, how can you live in fear, fear all the time. She said with her eyes welling up, how? I dunno Neurotica. I dunno how we do it. I guess we have no other choice, no other choice but to survive. Then she said "Nahnu il qawmal maghdhoobee 3alayhim" (We are the wrathed nation).

These people have dreams, just like you and me. They have aspirations and ambitions, probably even more than you and me, yet all this is kept hidden for now. Hidden beneath their masks. Their masks of survival. The Iraqi Mask of Survival...