neurotic Iraqi wife

Had I known that by blowing a candle it can make people's prayers heard, I would have done it everyday of every living second. Im not talking about M's smile(altho he did smile when he found out its my birthday and teased me about my age), nor Iraq's tranquility, for I think no matter how many candles I blow and wish for those, they will be in a long long queue waiting to be answered. Im talking about another prayer, a small prayer that means so much to a particular person I got to meet here and care for. Care for so very very much.

Exactly a month ago, I heard some shuffling and colleagues scurrying about in the corridor carrying files and papers. I can hear laughter and loud noises. I got up from my seat and went to where the hustle and bustle was going on. I asked Z, whats going on, whats wrong with everyone. Did they kill sadr?Dhari? Bin laden? Did we win the war? Z shook her head vigourously laughing, no, noooooo, its even better. I opened my eyes, Better I ask??? I pinched her, cmon tell me, I wanna knowwwww. Then H another colleague said, its the Immigration. Immigration program. Huh???What Immigration program. Then Z explained it to me:

"Congress passed legislation to offer special immigrant status to persons serving as translators with the U.S. Armed Forces (Section 1959 of the National Defense Authorization Act for Fiscal Year 2006 – Public Law 109-163). Under this statute, a limited number of translators and their immediate family may immigrate to the United States in each fiscal year."

You can check the US Embassy's website in Iraq to find out more. Theres a cap tho for the amount of applicants each fiscal year. A total of 50 from both Iraq and Afghanistan are accepted each year. The applications have to be received by 17th of Nov, they had just one week. So you can imagine the mayhem in the office. I felt dumbfounded at first and said But you guys arent translators? How can you apply? Z, who by the way munches food 24/7, gulped her food down, and said, who cares, we can talk the language cant we? Anything, we will do anything just to get out of here. I dont care how, or what, Atleast I will try all the resources I have so I wont regret it. And sure enough, everyone, every single Iraqi, the ones who speak english fluently, and those who dont, filled out the forms, got reference letters, paid the $190 fee. Ofcourse none of them had US accounts, and so many of the expats helped them by writing out the cheques.

I can remember the excitement. W came running, neurotica please, please I need your HUBBY to write a reference letter saying I translated official papers, etc...Ofcourse W, ofcourse, it will be ready for you tomorrow morning. Come the next day, and as I was handing the paper to W, I saw a sullen look on his face, I dont need it anymore, he said. Why I asked shocked at his reply. The General, the general refused to sign our forms. Refused???Why??? Why W???Because he wants proof that we really were translators with the army. Thats it Neurotica, we are stuck here. Stuck in this hellhole. We are doomed. And just like that, W walked away, and left me standing. Standing with the paper still in my hand. I went to Z, who sat staring at her monitor, chewing a piece of bread. Z is it true? Is it true that he refused to sign the papers? Z said with a sullen look on her face too, in Arabic :get il hazeena tifrah mala'atshee matrah. (The sad woman came to celebrate her happiness but she didnt find a place for it).

Im gonna stop here, and say to be continued...

Just to let you know what happened yesterday. I couldnt sleep all night, as usual, and so by 630am I was sitting at my desk checking out my emails and working on my deadlines. I made sure nobody knew it was my birthday. I got phonecalls from my family which boosted me yet made me feel even more nostalgic. After I got back from lunch, my colleagues started coming one by one, wishing me a happy birthday, kissing me and hugging me. I was like shit, how did they know? Thirty minutes later I was hauled by the Col, to join everyone at the conference table, and there among the crisps and the cookies they bought to celebrate, lay a small cookie with a candle. Everyone stood there singing for me and my face turned a bright tomato(btw, I pronounce it the British way and not the American way, which sometimes causes me alot of teasing from my American colleagues).

I sat there embarrased, with tears welling in my eyes, for at that moment, I missed my family's singing, missed my nephews jumping up and down and acting like little monkeys. Here I was in Baghdad, celebrating my birthday without any of my family around me, not even HUBBY but I was surrounded by all my good Iraqi and American colleagues. I stared so hard at the candle and prayed, prayed for everyone and everything I wish for. With one deep breath I blew the candle which turned out to be one of those sparky ones. No matter how much I blew, the darn flame kept flickering. Eventually I managed.

Everyone started asking me about HUBBY, and I tried to hide my sadness and said, HUBBY is busy, busy with work. I thanked everyone, then returned quietly to my seat. Then out of the blue, out of the blue MY HUBBY appeared. Yaaaaaaaaay. It was one amazing surprise. I jumped off my chair and hugged him so hard, so hard that I think I choked him. I didnt care that the whole office was staring. At that particular moment, I just wanted to be held. Held by him. Then he said, check out whats in my pocket. I delved my hand there, and took out a box. Opened it and altho Im not a fan of gold or any of that, I was looking at the most beautiful thing my eyes ever laid on:



The map of Iraq. My Iraq. The Iraq thats always gonna be in my heart. No matter what people say, it will always be mine. They call me a traitor, they call me a collaborator, but I dont care. For Im Iraqi. Im Iraqi and proud to be one.

HUBBY never ever gets me anything out of the blue, even on birthdays, always says to me, you can have whatever you want whenever you want it. So in the 2 yrs and a half that we are married, he shocked me. Shocked me and impressed me. I dont care for gold, I dont care for anything, I care for one thing and thats the little things. The little thoughts. The best present ever is to see him when I least expected it and to know that my teachings havent gone in vain. The Iraq he gave me will always stay close to my heart, and will always shine. My Iraq, My Shining Iraq...