I'm sure you've all heard about the 20-year-old Sabreen al-Janabi, a Sunni woman who said that had been raped by US-supported Iraqi soldiers during the ongoing Operation Law & Order, suprisingly, there hasn't been much activity regarding the topic on the Iraqi blogosphere, with the exception of the predictable post by Truth About Iraqis, and a rare appearance by superstar Riverbend.
Before I add my own opinion regarding the topic, here is a special treat, I have spent the better part of yesterday adding subtitles to the video and I have put it now live on YouTube here:
There has been much debate regarding those claims, it eventually boiled down to this headline: "Rape or Not, Depends on whether you're Sunni or Shiite", nobody bothers to examine the evidence, as everyone immediately reads every news item in his own particular agenda, the very dangerous essence of civil war.
First let us examine the evidence supporting the claim:
It is not unlikely for Iraqi soldiers to commit such acts, It is my own personal belief that Iraqi soldiers are usually worse than US soldiers, and it would be a typical and quite in-character act if they broke into a house and found a woman alone to rape her. The woman's story was detailed and it had emotion in it, when I first saw her, I found her convincing.
Nothing much to add above that.
But as I sat down to translate it, which makes me in direct contact with every sentence and every nuance, all the fishiness came in the way.
First, like dear Riverbend here would say, it is highly unusual for an Iraqi woman to appear on television and to tell a story of her own rape. It is an emotional hellride and it brings shame to the entire family and tribe, usually when a woman is raped, she is silent, ostracized and may be even killed by her own family to spare her of the shame, the matter is settled through tribal feuds and war. Riverbend goes on to expostulate that this exemplifies Sabreen's own personal bravery. But I beg to differ, first, the girl's accent is very countryside, and those people usually stick to the traditions I mentioned above, they don't think in such a way of exposing the truth live in front of millions of viewers, all they care about is to silence the matter. Sometimes they would hold public mourning ceremonies, as if she was actually dead. Had the girl been educated or civil maybe her and her family would have felt compelled to talk about it. But Sabreen not only told her story pubicly and on al-Jazeera, of all stations, she actually had the nerve to recount very graphic details of her rape without the expected emotionality - no self-respecting tradition-abiding parent-observing girl would talk about her rape in the very graphic and vulgar way that she did, she literally said 'he grabbed my tit' without any difficulty, and then she said what can be loosely translated as something the feel of 'I'm not one of them bitches'. No woman would talk like this in front of her parents, let alone the world. I myself woud probably kill my sister if she talked like this, well not kill, but you get the emotion. Third, the timing of the rape seemed very controversial, right in the middle of the security plan, the claim could be bolstered if one knows that Sabreen al-Janabi's father have links with al-Qaeda, check out this news item.
I thought that al-Maliki's reaction was somewhat fishy as well, had it been outright denial it would've reminded me of the way Baqir Solagh denied the Badr Corps out-in-the-open crimes and is something the diplomacy of our Iraqi government is made of, had the rape actually occured, why would al-Maliki deny it and bring to himself a whole extra mess of troubles, and on top of that reward the rapists? The fact is that he didn't deny it at first, the initial statement seemed intent on finding those responsible and having maximum penalites inflicted upon them, al-Maliki was trying to send the message that he knows such things could happen and that his soldiers aren't the stuff of angels, something Riverbend/TAI neglected to mention.
Rape is common, and what it occurs, the family distance itself from the woman, especially if they are a traditional family, it is very rare that you would hear of a story of a woman raped, and when it does get out in the open, the family is not very intent on talking about it everywhere, for instance, here is a 22-year-old Christian woman, Luana, whose story is almost identical to Sabreen, she is Christian, she doesn't hold necessary those severe traditions regarding rape, and yet even she wasn't so compelled to talk about it. All I heard of her was a small story on IraqiSlogger. The fact that she was Christian might also explain why nobody cared about her.
No, Sabreen's story is very fishy, her actions un-Iraqi, and her story is clearly orchestrated for maximum effect, check out the part where she says: 'I asked them why are chasing women? and he replies: This is mut3a', in my subtitles, I overlooked this and simply translated mut3a literally 'leisure', but the word has other connotations: Mut'a marriage is a controversial Shiite-only practice where a man and a woman have an Islamically-correct marrige that only lasts for hours or days, Sunnis regard this similar to people who want to commit adultery and finding a loophole in their Islam contract, anti-Shiite slanders are for example: The Son of Mut3a. Her metnion of the word reminded me of the huge clearly false allegations over a fake Muqtada al-Sadr statement about a group of women who want to have group mut3a with Mahdi Army fighters in Shiite mosques so that they be 'zealous for killing Sunnis'.
Give me a break!
and as usual the Arab nation did the usual uproar, Adnan al-Dulaymi trembled like a teapot, Mish'aan al-Juboori re-broadcast the clip 25/7, and the media war rages on and on.
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Saturday, February 17, 2007
Iraqi Jokes
Ever since I read Isaac Asimov's short-story Jokester about the origins of jokes, I've always harbored an obscurely academic fascination with the circumstances surrounding jokes. This article will try to discuss how jokes against various ethnic/sectarain denominations have developed and evolved through the course of years.
The major targets in an Iraqi joke are (arranged by popularity):
1. Kurds (Before I was born)
2. Dulaymis (1999 - present)
3. Shroogis (60s - present)
4. Maslawis (??)
5. Nassiriya (??)
6. Sectarain (??? but heightned after 2006)
Let us start with sectarain jokes since that is the hot stuff nowadays, first, the sectarain jokes are not popular due to the way Iraqi society is made up, to even mention sects was usually an insult frowned upon in many circles, and it was not until post-US invasion that the words 'Sunni' and 'Shiite' have slipped out of the Pandora's Box that is Iraq unto the common everyday kitchen be it in Iraq or the Middle East. But why are sectarain jokes offensive and the widespread jokes against Kurds not? That is not to say that jokes against Kurds are not offensive, but I think that it's because sectarain jokes directly touch religion, always a bad subject to make fun of in the Middle East. In Shi'ism for example, it is commendable to insult, curse or make fun of certain Islamic figures who are, hey presto, lauded as the highest of the high in Sunni Islam. This paradox renders many jokes into a hostile light unparralleled by a joke making fun of Kurds, Maslawis, or Dulayms which simply mock fallible human traits like slowness or cheapness, as those recipients would usually grin sociably when said jokes are being made. Sectarain jokes do not make fun of those traits, and since they are only circulated in closed circles, they are usually very offensive and unfunny.
What often annoys me is that Western audiences think that the Middle Eastern society is actually Islamic in look and in spirit, this is a far cry from the truth, Middle Eastern societies are largely hypocritical in nature. The majority do not follow religious lines of living but they respect it in a nominal way, it's more like: 'Yes let's do the sexy dance, but let's keep it a secret.' I have heard many jokes against Allah and Islam and when they are said they are often met with great joy. An anti-Shiite joke targeting religious figures is hugely offensive in Sunni communities as well, but that doesn't mean they don't exist - After the 1991 Shiite revolution, the effective Baathist propaganda began releasing anti-Shiite jokes that directly insult highly venerated figures in both Sunni and Shiite traditions, these jokes have the qualities of a bully, not particularly clever and downright mean and cruel, for example this sums up a perfectly Baathist-style joke:
"Allah and Mohammed were playing marbles, and then Ali came, the two immediately screamed: Ahoooooo, here comes the cheater!"
Here's another one that's even more mean:
"A Sunni man married a Shiite woman, they agreed that he names the girls and she names the boys, they had three sons and sure enough she named them Ali, Hasan and Hussein. When the fourth child was a girl the man named her 'Bitch', when asked why, he said: 'So I can say: O Brothers of the Bitch! (Ya Khawat il Ka7ba, a popular Iraqi curseword.)"
I have never, ever heard of a joke against Sunnis from any of my friends, such is the nature of our society. The only anti-Sunni jokes are know I have listened to from the Internet, here is one by Hassan Shahata, an Egyptian Azhar scholar who converted to Shi'ism. It tells a great deal that this joke was actually said in a mosque:
"On Judgement day, Abu Bakr and Omar were sentenced to hell as expected, but they went to the Prophet Mohammed who, ever the merciful, intercessed with Allah and Allah forgave them for urusping Ali's right and granted them into Paradise. After a while, Abu Bakr asked Omar: "I wonder what happened to our friends Khalid, al-Mughieera, and Sa'ad, what do you say if we go and take a look?", so Omar accepted, upon entering Hell, an Angel on guard said that Ali is the guardian of the gate and they must request a pass from him, so they went and Ali gave them the pass. The two saw and conversed with their friends and after a while got bored and wanted to leave, but to this Imam Ali said: 'Man, where do you think you're going? You have entered, but whoever said that you are going to leave?' "
The joke is not even funny, but it was met by uproarious laughter by the Shiites in the Qum mosque , as it basically supports all the credentials of their faith.
The jokes also can target Abu Haneefa, the most important Sunni shrine in Baghdad (in my old area Adhamiya), Shiites have a tradition of spitting on the direction of the grave when they pass him by, and they sometimes call him Abu Haneecha (a very rude Iraqi swearword, meaning fuck him)Here's an offline message I got from a Shiite friend in Najaf, it's in Arabic verse so it may not be :
'Abu Haneefa (May Allah be pleased with him) once said: O Hear ye, A man comes who hate me, and everyday he curses me, he shows you the Shidah (difficulty), and dump your bodies in Saddah, His eyes are sood (black), and he wears a tracksuit, brave and hard to enjira'a (swallow), his name is Abu Diraa, the signs of this warta (catastrophe), the emergence of a batta (car used by gunmen often, a Toyota Corona).
Here is a joke circa 2004 that involves Shiites, Sunnis and Americans:
"An American soldier was observing the Mahdi Army beating up people (this was when they weren't killing anybody yet) on the street, they watched as they cornered a man and was about to beat the shit out of him when he said: 'O by Ali's name let me go', on hearing this, the Mahdi folks let him go, the soldier thought this was a cultural Iraqi phrase and memorized it as it may come in handy. the next day he was transferred to Falluja, and wouldn't you know it, 30 minutes later he was at the mercy of the Mujahideen (insurgency), remembering the phrase, he said: 'O by Ali's name, let me go!', the Mujahideen looked at each other and said: 'Holy Cow! Not only is he an American infidel, but he's also a Shiite! BOOM BOOM BOOM."
Kurds: Kurds have always been picked upon, I do not know the political or social factors that led to this becuase it is so far back, before the Ba'ath regime came to existence.
1. They're not particularly exclusive to Iraqis, as Kurdish jokes delight comes from a humanly universal fact: stupidity.
2. It also use the word 'Kaka' a lot, which means 'brother' in Kurdish.
Examples:
Guy: Kaka, Do you like bananas?
Kurd: Kaka, banana is delicious, but it has a very big seed.
A Kurd asked the hand of a girl, the father asked him: Do you smoke? He said: No, but sometimes when I get drunk with a couple of whores I smoke a little weed.
Here's how a moron joke is imported from another culture:
A Kurd saw a Marlboro ad and was so affected that he bought a horse
Some use present day movements to liven up an otherwise stale joke, such as:
How did Ansar al-Islam catch the pornographic film at the Kurdish guy's collection? He had put it in the sports section marked Brazil 1 - Sulaymaniya 5
Most of the Kurdish jokes today have developed to focus on the Iraqi president Jalal Talabani, partly because he himself have encouraged the notion by launching a self-mocking array of jokes whenever possible.
Here's a famous poem said by Jalal Talabani during an interview:
We got no cane, no mats, and no bardi
On top of all that, the president is Kurdi
Dulayms: Since 2000, Dulaymis replaced Kurds as the Iraqi comedian's favorite slowhead, Dulaym is one of the most important Sunni tribes in Iraq (it's also the tribe of Adnan al-Dulaymi, Sunni bloc head), there are various reasons as to why they were the target of soooo many jokes, but it is of little doubt that the Ba'ath regime was the prime instigator of these jokes, I once had a friend who was the son of a military intelligence member, and he was such a funny and charismatic personality that he could tell you joke after joke and you won't feel tired, one thing he said one day caught my attention: 'Man, we sell these jokes', the Ba'ath regime has a competent propaganda machine that steered something whenver they feel like it - the jokes were embraced by all Iraqis: Sunnis and Shiites at that time. Some say that the leader of the Dulaym tribes once rejected Saddam's cigar at a meeting, saying: This is not the time to smoke, and others mention the little known Dulaym revolution against Saddam which was started because of the butchery of a certain important Dulaymi tribesman by Saddam's henchmen (but that incident dates a little farther than 2000).
Dulaymi jokes are of all the same qualities as Kurdish jokes, stupidity and slowness is emphasised to a great degree - all Dulayms back then in our classroom were subject to all sorts of insults....
A Dulaymi said to his father: O father, I want her to be white and tall...his father brought him a 20-foot fridge.
Dulayms are playing chess, whenever a soldier dies they hold a 3-day mourning ritual.
Dulayms were playing chess, one said: Hey, I just killed your elephant...the other went out and then returned shortly saying proudly: And I poisoned all your cattle!
A Dulaym was asked by the teacher: Who was the prophet that spoke to animals? Dulaymi said: Prophet Tarazan (PBUH).
Why did the Kurds and Dulayms become extinct? Too many jokes.
Maslawis: Maslawis are people who hail from Mosul, they have a very unique accent that is closer to Syrian than Iraqi, and the jokes that target Maslawis are the same as, surprise, the ones targeting the Scots and Jews. CHEAP. I am a half-Maslawi, and I can tell you that Maslawis are actually pretty generous, the reasons behind this are also as ancient as the ones behind the Kurds.
How did the American soldier from his Apache know this house was a Maslawi's? He saw a handkerchief on the clothesline.
Why don't Maslawis go to hospitals? The door says 'PUSH'. (PUSH is the same word as PAY in Arabic.)
A Maslawi's father died. The ad ran: Father Dead, Car for Sale.
3. Shroogis: Shroogi literally means 'a person from the East', it distinctly refers to people coming from the southe-eastern governorate of Ammarah, when they started to drive in huge numbers in Baghdad during the 1960s, and currently they reside at Sadr City- but generally this refers to everyone who hails from the southern governorates, jokes targeting Shroogs naturally focus on their illiteracy, dirtiness and ignorance.
A Shroog took a urine analysis. The nurse said: Your urine is sugary, he said: and your shit is honey.
A Shroogi shepherd got married,after being silent for a while on the bed with his wife he decided to break the ice and said: "You wouldn't know about any good sheep around here, would you?"
After a while the Shroogi wanted to flirt with her again...so he said: 'Do you see the moon?'
She said yeah, he said 'The smell of your armpits reach over there...'
A Shroogi called the police, angrily he mouthed: God Damn it, they stole the fuckin' steering wheel and dashboard of my car!!!! Five minutes later, he called again: Sorry guys, I was at the backseat.
4. Nassiriya: Nassiriya jokes are some of my favorites because they deal with the mischievious malignance of Nassiriay people, technically they are also Shroogis but all their jokes are different.
A Nassiriyan became the police officer, he changed the police code from 911 to 0983109343872321234.
A Nassiriyan Imam went to the institute for blind men, his lecture was 'The Joy of Sight.'
Three Nassiriyans agreed to rob a bank, the first to knock out the guards, the second to unlock the safe and the third to call the police.
A Nassiriyan went to see a movie, he found only one guy in the whole hall, he sat behind him and would say every once in a while: 'Please, sir, your head, I'm trying to watch.'
A guy died and went to the heavens, the first thing he saw was a giant tree , after asking a nearby angel, he knew that this tree represents the faith of mankind, a leaf fell, he asked what is this? the angel said: A guy in the USA named Jeffrey Thomas has just lost his faith in God. another leaf fell, he asked again, who is this? The angel said: A guy in Japan named Oi-Wun has just cursed God. A few minutes later, there was a giant rumble from the tree and a whole bunch of leaves came tumbling down...Panicked, the guy asked: What is this? The angel said: Electricity went down in Nassiriya and everybody cursed God.
The major targets in an Iraqi joke are (arranged by popularity):
1. Kurds (Before I was born)
2. Dulaymis (1999 - present)
3. Shroogis (60s - present)
4. Maslawis (??)
5. Nassiriya (??)
6. Sectarain (??? but heightned after 2006)
Let us start with sectarain jokes since that is the hot stuff nowadays, first, the sectarain jokes are not popular due to the way Iraqi society is made up, to even mention sects was usually an insult frowned upon in many circles, and it was not until post-US invasion that the words 'Sunni' and 'Shiite' have slipped out of the Pandora's Box that is Iraq unto the common everyday kitchen be it in Iraq or the Middle East. But why are sectarain jokes offensive and the widespread jokes against Kurds not? That is not to say that jokes against Kurds are not offensive, but I think that it's because sectarain jokes directly touch religion, always a bad subject to make fun of in the Middle East. In Shi'ism for example, it is commendable to insult, curse or make fun of certain Islamic figures who are, hey presto, lauded as the highest of the high in Sunni Islam. This paradox renders many jokes into a hostile light unparralleled by a joke making fun of Kurds, Maslawis, or Dulayms which simply mock fallible human traits like slowness or cheapness, as those recipients would usually grin sociably when said jokes are being made. Sectarain jokes do not make fun of those traits, and since they are only circulated in closed circles, they are usually very offensive and unfunny.
What often annoys me is that Western audiences think that the Middle Eastern society is actually Islamic in look and in spirit, this is a far cry from the truth, Middle Eastern societies are largely hypocritical in nature. The majority do not follow religious lines of living but they respect it in a nominal way, it's more like: 'Yes let's do the sexy dance, but let's keep it a secret.' I have heard many jokes against Allah and Islam and when they are said they are often met with great joy. An anti-Shiite joke targeting religious figures is hugely offensive in Sunni communities as well, but that doesn't mean they don't exist - After the 1991 Shiite revolution, the effective Baathist propaganda began releasing anti-Shiite jokes that directly insult highly venerated figures in both Sunni and Shiite traditions, these jokes have the qualities of a bully, not particularly clever and downright mean and cruel, for example this sums up a perfectly Baathist-style joke:
"Allah and Mohammed were playing marbles, and then Ali came, the two immediately screamed: Ahoooooo, here comes the cheater!"
Here's another one that's even more mean:
"A Sunni man married a Shiite woman, they agreed that he names the girls and she names the boys, they had three sons and sure enough she named them Ali, Hasan and Hussein. When the fourth child was a girl the man named her 'Bitch', when asked why, he said: 'So I can say: O Brothers of the Bitch! (Ya Khawat il Ka7ba, a popular Iraqi curseword.)"
I have never, ever heard of a joke against Sunnis from any of my friends, such is the nature of our society. The only anti-Sunni jokes are know I have listened to from the Internet, here is one by Hassan Shahata, an Egyptian Azhar scholar who converted to Shi'ism. It tells a great deal that this joke was actually said in a mosque:
"On Judgement day, Abu Bakr and Omar were sentenced to hell as expected, but they went to the Prophet Mohammed who, ever the merciful, intercessed with Allah and Allah forgave them for urusping Ali's right and granted them into Paradise. After a while, Abu Bakr asked Omar: "I wonder what happened to our friends Khalid, al-Mughieera, and Sa'ad, what do you say if we go and take a look?", so Omar accepted, upon entering Hell, an Angel on guard said that Ali is the guardian of the gate and they must request a pass from him, so they went and Ali gave them the pass. The two saw and conversed with their friends and after a while got bored and wanted to leave, but to this Imam Ali said: 'Man, where do you think you're going? You have entered, but whoever said that you are going to leave?' "
The joke is not even funny, but it was met by uproarious laughter by the Shiites in the Qum mosque , as it basically supports all the credentials of their faith.
The jokes also can target Abu Haneefa, the most important Sunni shrine in Baghdad (in my old area Adhamiya), Shiites have a tradition of spitting on the direction of the grave when they pass him by, and they sometimes call him Abu Haneecha (a very rude Iraqi swearword, meaning fuck him)Here's an offline message I got from a Shiite friend in Najaf, it's in Arabic verse so it may not be :
'Abu Haneefa (May Allah be pleased with him) once said: O Hear ye, A man comes who hate me, and everyday he curses me, he shows you the Shidah (difficulty), and dump your bodies in Saddah, His eyes are sood (black), and he wears a tracksuit, brave and hard to enjira'a (swallow), his name is Abu Diraa, the signs of this warta (catastrophe), the emergence of a batta (car used by gunmen often, a Toyota Corona).
Here is a joke circa 2004 that involves Shiites, Sunnis and Americans:
"An American soldier was observing the Mahdi Army beating up people (this was when they weren't killing anybody yet) on the street, they watched as they cornered a man and was about to beat the shit out of him when he said: 'O by Ali's name let me go', on hearing this, the Mahdi folks let him go, the soldier thought this was a cultural Iraqi phrase and memorized it as it may come in handy. the next day he was transferred to Falluja, and wouldn't you know it, 30 minutes later he was at the mercy of the Mujahideen (insurgency), remembering the phrase, he said: 'O by Ali's name, let me go!', the Mujahideen looked at each other and said: 'Holy Cow! Not only is he an American infidel, but he's also a Shiite! BOOM BOOM BOOM."
Kurds: Kurds have always been picked upon, I do not know the political or social factors that led to this becuase it is so far back, before the Ba'ath regime came to existence.
1. They're not particularly exclusive to Iraqis, as Kurdish jokes delight comes from a humanly universal fact: stupidity.
2. It also use the word 'Kaka' a lot, which means 'brother' in Kurdish.
Examples:
Guy: Kaka, Do you like bananas?
Kurd: Kaka, banana is delicious, but it has a very big seed.
A Kurd asked the hand of a girl, the father asked him: Do you smoke? He said: No, but sometimes when I get drunk with a couple of whores I smoke a little weed.
Here's how a moron joke is imported from another culture:
A Kurd saw a Marlboro ad and was so affected that he bought a horse
Some use present day movements to liven up an otherwise stale joke, such as:
How did Ansar al-Islam catch the pornographic film at the Kurdish guy's collection? He had put it in the sports section marked Brazil 1 - Sulaymaniya 5
Most of the Kurdish jokes today have developed to focus on the Iraqi president Jalal Talabani, partly because he himself have encouraged the notion by launching a self-mocking array of jokes whenever possible.
Here's a famous poem said by Jalal Talabani during an interview:
We got no cane, no mats, and no bardi
On top of all that, the president is Kurdi
Dulayms: Since 2000, Dulaymis replaced Kurds as the Iraqi comedian's favorite slowhead, Dulaym is one of the most important Sunni tribes in Iraq (it's also the tribe of Adnan al-Dulaymi, Sunni bloc head), there are various reasons as to why they were the target of soooo many jokes, but it is of little doubt that the Ba'ath regime was the prime instigator of these jokes, I once had a friend who was the son of a military intelligence member, and he was such a funny and charismatic personality that he could tell you joke after joke and you won't feel tired, one thing he said one day caught my attention: 'Man, we sell these jokes', the Ba'ath regime has a competent propaganda machine that steered something whenver they feel like it - the jokes were embraced by all Iraqis: Sunnis and Shiites at that time. Some say that the leader of the Dulaym tribes once rejected Saddam's cigar at a meeting, saying: This is not the time to smoke, and others mention the little known Dulaym revolution against Saddam which was started because of the butchery of a certain important Dulaymi tribesman by Saddam's henchmen (but that incident dates a little farther than 2000).
Dulaymi jokes are of all the same qualities as Kurdish jokes, stupidity and slowness is emphasised to a great degree - all Dulayms back then in our classroom were subject to all sorts of insults....
A Dulaymi said to his father: O father, I want her to be white and tall...his father brought him a 20-foot fridge.
Dulayms are playing chess, whenever a soldier dies they hold a 3-day mourning ritual.
Dulayms were playing chess, one said: Hey, I just killed your elephant...the other went out and then returned shortly saying proudly: And I poisoned all your cattle!
A Dulaym was asked by the teacher: Who was the prophet that spoke to animals? Dulaymi said: Prophet Tarazan (PBUH).
Why did the Kurds and Dulayms become extinct? Too many jokes.
Maslawis: Maslawis are people who hail from Mosul, they have a very unique accent that is closer to Syrian than Iraqi, and the jokes that target Maslawis are the same as, surprise, the ones targeting the Scots and Jews. CHEAP. I am a half-Maslawi, and I can tell you that Maslawis are actually pretty generous, the reasons behind this are also as ancient as the ones behind the Kurds.
How did the American soldier from his Apache know this house was a Maslawi's? He saw a handkerchief on the clothesline.
Why don't Maslawis go to hospitals? The door says 'PUSH'. (PUSH is the same word as PAY in Arabic.)
A Maslawi's father died. The ad ran: Father Dead, Car for Sale.
3. Shroogis: Shroogi literally means 'a person from the East', it distinctly refers to people coming from the southe-eastern governorate of Ammarah, when they started to drive in huge numbers in Baghdad during the 1960s, and currently they reside at Sadr City- but generally this refers to everyone who hails from the southern governorates, jokes targeting Shroogs naturally focus on their illiteracy, dirtiness and ignorance.
A Shroog took a urine analysis. The nurse said: Your urine is sugary, he said: and your shit is honey.
A Shroogi shepherd got married,after being silent for a while on the bed with his wife he decided to break the ice and said: "You wouldn't know about any good sheep around here, would you?"
After a while the Shroogi wanted to flirt with her again...so he said: 'Do you see the moon?'
She said yeah, he said 'The smell of your armpits reach over there...'
A Shroogi called the police, angrily he mouthed: God Damn it, they stole the fuckin' steering wheel and dashboard of my car!!!! Five minutes later, he called again: Sorry guys, I was at the backseat.
4. Nassiriya: Nassiriya jokes are some of my favorites because they deal with the mischievious malignance of Nassiriay people, technically they are also Shroogis but all their jokes are different.
A Nassiriyan became the police officer, he changed the police code from 911 to 0983109343872321234.
A Nassiriyan Imam went to the institute for blind men, his lecture was 'The Joy of Sight.'
Three Nassiriyans agreed to rob a bank, the first to knock out the guards, the second to unlock the safe and the third to call the police.
A Nassiriyan went to see a movie, he found only one guy in the whole hall, he sat behind him and would say every once in a while: 'Please, sir, your head, I'm trying to watch.'
A guy died and went to the heavens, the first thing he saw was a giant tree , after asking a nearby angel, he knew that this tree represents the faith of mankind, a leaf fell, he asked what is this? the angel said: A guy in the USA named Jeffrey Thomas has just lost his faith in God. another leaf fell, he asked again, who is this? The angel said: A guy in Japan named Oi-Wun has just cursed God. A few minutes later, there was a giant rumble from the tree and a whole bunch of leaves came tumbling down...Panicked, the guy asked: What is this? The angel said: Electricity went down in Nassiriya and everybody cursed God.
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Sam Aziz vs Khalid Jarrar: Progressive vs Hardline
The Iraqi bloggers Google group, sadly like our absent blog-critic Semiramis says, has been reduced to another typical forum plagued with knock-knock jokes of all shapes and kinds (just who is this Irakien Rana anyway :) ?), however, I must say that I have found the first meaningful conversation just yesterday, when Sam Aziz posted a link to an interview with a Bahrini Shi'ite cleric called Dh'iaa al-Mossawi (translated):
If you don't have time to watch it, the man is the sort of a more tolerant, peaceful cleric with a somewhat universal vision of religious co-existence, he listens to classical music and he has pictures for Jesus Christ, Martin Luther King and Gandhi in his house, he says of the latter that we need to plant his 'genes' in the youth of Muslims, he refuses rhetoric such as the 'Jews, grandchildren of pigs and abes' stubbornly, and greatly criticises the backward ideological 'gallows' of current Islamic stagnation thought.
For people like Khalid Jarrar, a really nice guy but also a more traditional Islamist with all the predictable America, West and everything it stands for = Great Satan ideology, this was too much to bear, he replied in the thread that this guy was basically a wolf in sheep's clothing and that he's probably been in the West and is preaching a version of Islam for which America would love and is simply 'poison in the honey.'
I completely support al-Mossawi in every possible way, his black turban is the sort I would like to see, and sadly, isn't found or sold much lately - Islam is a great, great, great, great religion but unfortunately its people have greatly misunderstood it in every possible way, when we settled for being the greatest thing ever on the piece of earth, a mistake committed by Jews a looong time ago, we became content with what we are and we simply believe that everything our culture has is the be-all-end-all for humanity, again a common mistake - so that when Western culture came smacking us from our long slumber and took Palestine away, like all ideological losers in history we started to call everything they have as having Satanic connotations, that everything they do is a conspiracy and that we are always the poor people kicked around - True, we have been kicked around, but the major problem is not in them, it's in us - we need to admit our stupidity, arrogance and defeat and change our dirty, violent, stubborn youth into creative and understanding people that Islam needs to be built upon, we need more people like Dhi'aa al-Mossawi and Amro Khalid, those are the social reformists for which I have the greatest hope for and who I am betting on - lay down your weapons, we won't beat the Jews yesterday or in a million years if we keep on our hypocrisy, we must change ourselves first.
Look at the thread here, and tell us what do you think:
If you don't have time to watch it, the man is the sort of a more tolerant, peaceful cleric with a somewhat universal vision of religious co-existence, he listens to classical music and he has pictures for Jesus Christ, Martin Luther King and Gandhi in his house, he says of the latter that we need to plant his 'genes' in the youth of Muslims, he refuses rhetoric such as the 'Jews, grandchildren of pigs and abes' stubbornly, and greatly criticises the backward ideological 'gallows' of current Islamic stagnation thought.
For people like Khalid Jarrar, a really nice guy but also a more traditional Islamist with all the predictable America, West and everything it stands for = Great Satan ideology, this was too much to bear, he replied in the thread that this guy was basically a wolf in sheep's clothing and that he's probably been in the West and is preaching a version of Islam for which America would love and is simply 'poison in the honey.'
I completely support al-Mossawi in every possible way, his black turban is the sort I would like to see, and sadly, isn't found or sold much lately - Islam is a great, great, great, great religion but unfortunately its people have greatly misunderstood it in every possible way, when we settled for being the greatest thing ever on the piece of earth, a mistake committed by Jews a looong time ago, we became content with what we are and we simply believe that everything our culture has is the be-all-end-all for humanity, again a common mistake - so that when Western culture came smacking us from our long slumber and took Palestine away, like all ideological losers in history we started to call everything they have as having Satanic connotations, that everything they do is a conspiracy and that we are always the poor people kicked around - True, we have been kicked around, but the major problem is not in them, it's in us - we need to admit our stupidity, arrogance and defeat and change our dirty, violent, stubborn youth into creative and understanding people that Islam needs to be built upon, we need more people like Dhi'aa al-Mossawi and Amro Khalid, those are the social reformists for which I have the greatest hope for and who I am betting on - lay down your weapons, we won't beat the Jews yesterday or in a million years if we keep on our hypocrisy, we must change ourselves first.
Look at the thread here, and tell us what do you think:
Monday, February 12, 2007
Iraqi Resistance and the US plan
Dear reader,
I'm gonna tell you something that all the Iraqis who pretend they're full of pride and shit don't tell you, every Iraqi who knows what's good for him wants the US military plan to happen - it's a known fact today that while US soldiers do occasionally rape 15-year-olds and add naked photos of our hairy butts to their family albums, they are still infintely more trustworthy than any Iraqi soldier from anywhere. When an American soldier knocks on your door for a search, you go 'oh thank god' but when Iraqis do the same, you are instantly on your toes. Forget about all those Iraqis and Arab bloggers who live outside or have never been in there recently, they don't know what it is like - Iraq is dead - we are living in a newfound, and very real, age of sect. The intellects and all the other deadbeats like you and me who do nothing but bitch about how Iraq is great and how we had a beautiful country before the war are having a hard time accepting this, but they're going to have to deal with it.
The American forces are the only forces that are to be relied upon in Iraq, as sloppy and careless as they are, because they don't have anything personal against Abu Haneefa or Musa al-Kadhim, I may have comitted national blasphemy by saying this, but it's 100% better to be honest than a nationalist hypocritical asswipe like most Arabs and Iraqis are. First step towards healing is diagnosis. I really hope they completely remove Sadr City and Adhamiya from the map.
Adhamiya
Ahh, my age-old district. How much I loved you and how much today I come to despise you, for harboring all those Saddamists and criminals who masqueraded under the glorious name of resistance, yes I did support them but only because I was afraid of the Anees & Badr Corps.
The other day, during the same day when Zeyad's brother reported a death of his neighbor, I actually lost a relative, the holy rockets which have been blissfully directed by the Hidden Imam, may Allah hasten his alarm clock, has finally managed to kill my aunt's husband's brother. You wanna hear something funny?
He was a Shiite, 100% to the bone, and the only Shiite linegae in our honest-to-Abu Haneefa Sunni family.
How I got the news? I woke up at 7 AM the next day, my mother came and told me immediately....I have cried like crazy over my four dead friends, and I was very upset about the death of a number of people, but that day I glanced uninterestingly...and then I shrugged, I said: 'Serves him right. He should've went out of the hellhole a long time ago.'
The fact that I didn't even bother to write about it then gives you an idea of how much emotional I got all about it. Death is to us a fact of life - examine the beautiful irony in the previous sentence. How did I become like this? I have attained the languid unconsciousness of an assassin with all the insecrutiy and the tight-sealed anger sown deep down inside. I am ready to do atrocities without flipping an eyelid if you want me to. Maybe if I was stupid and immature I would've already been with the rest of em, carrying an AK-47 I don't know how to use correctly in front of our local mosque, praying very little and cursing very much while exchanging short semi-porno clips on my latest Nokia mobile. Glorious be my crusade nevertheless, for I am an Iraqi Resistance.
Here are some of my other news which I didn't care much to say :
About a month ago, another college friend of mine was near killed in a bus stop, he was riding a minivan heading towards a Shiite district, al-Jowadir, when the beloved Iraqi resistance came and showered everyone with the bullets of mercy, ending their pitiful existence as sheep waiting for the slaughter, the bullet has come for you, Nameer - but Nameer had a thick butt, and the bullets couldn't get through him - they tore through every non-critical part of his body but they left his heart, lungs, head and penis intact, so he could continue to live as a decent human-being - he did lose his left hand though, and he is a lefty.
As Borat would've said : "High Five!"...oops, sorry I forgot you don't have a hand anymore.
and also I forgot to mention the lovely incident of Ubada, another college friend of mine who is also a glorious resident in Adhamiya, and precisely at the Sifeena, home of the most glorious freedom fighters - this Ubada is a bearded guy with blue eyes who likes to frequent the mosques and distribute Sunni bloc Accordance Front fliers, and one day his pop tells him to go bring something from his auntie's empty house, as she was a smart woman and left Iraq about a few months ago, little did poor Ubada know, but the house was rigged by the beautiful Iraqi resistance in case the infidels come in to try and search it.
The limbs that were once Ubada were collected and buried at Abu Haneefa mosque, so long, martyr, too bad you didn't have any pussy in your short 21-years-old life while you were busy doing all that mosque touring, well, maybe in heaven with your 77,000 virgins.
I'm gonna tell you something that all the Iraqis who pretend they're full of pride and shit don't tell you, every Iraqi who knows what's good for him wants the US military plan to happen - it's a known fact today that while US soldiers do occasionally rape 15-year-olds and add naked photos of our hairy butts to their family albums, they are still infintely more trustworthy than any Iraqi soldier from anywhere. When an American soldier knocks on your door for a search, you go 'oh thank god' but when Iraqis do the same, you are instantly on your toes. Forget about all those Iraqis and Arab bloggers who live outside or have never been in there recently, they don't know what it is like - Iraq is dead - we are living in a newfound, and very real, age of sect. The intellects and all the other deadbeats like you and me who do nothing but bitch about how Iraq is great and how we had a beautiful country before the war are having a hard time accepting this, but they're going to have to deal with it.
The American forces are the only forces that are to be relied upon in Iraq, as sloppy and careless as they are, because they don't have anything personal against Abu Haneefa or Musa al-Kadhim, I may have comitted national blasphemy by saying this, but it's 100% better to be honest than a nationalist hypocritical asswipe like most Arabs and Iraqis are. First step towards healing is diagnosis. I really hope they completely remove Sadr City and Adhamiya from the map.
Adhamiya
Ahh, my age-old district. How much I loved you and how much today I come to despise you, for harboring all those Saddamists and criminals who masqueraded under the glorious name of resistance, yes I did support them but only because I was afraid of the Anees & Badr Corps.
The other day, during the same day when Zeyad's brother reported a death of his neighbor, I actually lost a relative, the holy rockets which have been blissfully directed by the Hidden Imam, may Allah hasten his alarm clock, has finally managed to kill my aunt's husband's brother. You wanna hear something funny?
He was a Shiite, 100% to the bone, and the only Shiite linegae in our honest-to-Abu Haneefa Sunni family.
How I got the news? I woke up at 7 AM the next day, my mother came and told me immediately....I have cried like crazy over my four dead friends, and I was very upset about the death of a number of people, but that day I glanced uninterestingly...and then I shrugged, I said: 'Serves him right. He should've went out of the hellhole a long time ago.'
The fact that I didn't even bother to write about it then gives you an idea of how much emotional I got all about it. Death is to us a fact of life - examine the beautiful irony in the previous sentence. How did I become like this? I have attained the languid unconsciousness of an assassin with all the insecrutiy and the tight-sealed anger sown deep down inside. I am ready to do atrocities without flipping an eyelid if you want me to. Maybe if I was stupid and immature I would've already been with the rest of em, carrying an AK-47 I don't know how to use correctly in front of our local mosque, praying very little and cursing very much while exchanging short semi-porno clips on my latest Nokia mobile. Glorious be my crusade nevertheless, for I am an Iraqi Resistance.
Here are some of my other news which I didn't care much to say :
About a month ago, another college friend of mine was near killed in a bus stop, he was riding a minivan heading towards a Shiite district, al-Jowadir, when the beloved Iraqi resistance came and showered everyone with the bullets of mercy, ending their pitiful existence as sheep waiting for the slaughter, the bullet has come for you, Nameer - but Nameer had a thick butt, and the bullets couldn't get through him - they tore through every non-critical part of his body but they left his heart, lungs, head and penis intact, so he could continue to live as a decent human-being - he did lose his left hand though, and he is a lefty.
As Borat would've said : "High Five!"...oops, sorry I forgot you don't have a hand anymore.
and also I forgot to mention the lovely incident of Ubada, another college friend of mine who is also a glorious resident in Adhamiya, and precisely at the Sifeena, home of the most glorious freedom fighters - this Ubada is a bearded guy with blue eyes who likes to frequent the mosques and distribute Sunni bloc Accordance Front fliers, and one day his pop tells him to go bring something from his auntie's empty house, as she was a smart woman and left Iraq about a few months ago, little did poor Ubada know, but the house was rigged by the beautiful Iraqi resistance in case the infidels come in to try and search it.
The limbs that were once Ubada were collected and buried at Abu Haneefa mosque, so long, martyr, too bad you didn't have any pussy in your short 21-years-old life while you were busy doing all that mosque touring, well, maybe in heaven with your 77,000 virgins.
Monday, January 29, 2007
Shiite Flagellation & Heavy Metal
10th Muharram is the biggest day ever for Shiite religion, more so important than the two holy Eids, more important than prayer, more important than pilgrmige, it is the most important day ever. The day Hussein was killed in Karbala, some 1400 years ago. Here are some widespread practices during this day:
Maseer (March) Shiite pilgrims walk from everywhere towards Karbala, in a symbolic cememoration of Hussein's march towards that accursed city with 74 of his family and women and children(why?) to meet the Umayyad army. While this practice was present in individual patterns, it did not become widely adopted until 1970.
Flagellation At its most extreme, Shi'ism rituals can be as severe and ominous as any Opus Dei around - Flagellation or Latum is the beating of chests in unison to the rhythm of a sung verse by a radood, a person who recites a poem usually about the death of a Shiite religious figure, be it Ali, Fatima, Hussein, Zainab, Abbas and even recently, the destruction of the reverred Askari shrines in Samarra. The beating of chest is a traditional Arab way of showing grief, mostly performed by women.
Tatbeer or (head-splitting) This practice is derived from the way Imam Ali was killed, while he was praying dawn when a person called Bin Muljim killed him by a sword which hit his forehead. As a form of solidarity and remembrance, a mutabir brings a sword to his forehead and gently stabs with the wide sheath of the sword - blood usually spurts in great lengths, eventually covering the whole person in blood, it is one of the most controversial and sickening practices, and has been introduced by a Turkish brigade coming from the Kaukaz.
Tashbeeh or Re-enactment Those are convoys which re-enact the battle of al-Taff with great detail, from the beginning of the battle until the decapitation of Imam Hussein. This was imported from Iran at the end of the 18th century.
All these practices above are considered the most iconic, graphic representations of Shi'ism today. In particular the flagellation, Most religious Shia scholars condemn all these acts, but all their edicts against them have been met with disapproval and rejection, and sometimes even anger. Religion sometimes opposes thinking, and as the majority of Shiites in Iraq are common and poor, they oppose rationalization and follow only emotion, and consider this as an unthinkable practice that may be for some people the most important, and basically the nutshell, of religion, to try and shed the most tears in hope of getting the intercession of the holy figure they are mourning. The scholars had to grudgingly accept this, a scholar once said: 'The truth of Islam has been lost between the Sunni and Shi'ite scholars, Sunnis followed the whims of the ruler, and Shiites followed the whims of the people." There are also other reasons for this complete disobedience, The Ashura ceremonies is a massive group-activity that invokes feelings of strength and identity, it is the only purely Shia activity to be practiced on such a massive scale, and anything against it will fall on deaf ears. This is why Shiite political factions greatly pushed this exercise after post-Saddam war, despite the unfortuante result of so many people being exposed as an easy prey for any would-be malignant force, despite repeated terrorist attacks which killed many people in 2003 and 2004, Shiites politicians have stubbornly pushed people to practice them, as if Shi'ism is all about this - a foolish show of defiance. Also, a whole trade has been created around these practices, it is interesting to notice that most of the people who actually perform those flagellations and tatbeers are from the dregs of society and the lowest of lows, and have nothing to do whatsoever with religion. It's more about identity and the ominous flair of the processions.
Today, religion is all about big show, most of Iraqis (and Arabs) are not traditional Muslims in the sense, most of them think about sex more often than God.
Admittedly, those processions are somewhat exotic in their own way, any serious fan of violent, angry music should give Shia latmiyas a go, once you get past all that initial disgust and bypass all religious identification, try to look at it as you would look at Greek mythologies or read the Odysseus. It's got plenty of cool stuff: a plethora of sad, dark melodies ; hordes of epic battles between Good and Evil, with Evil always victorious - and also, it sends shivers down one's spine when you remember that the only musical instrument being used, the oddly time-signatured precussion is made by thousand hands beating down a thousand chests. Look at this frightening verse from a latmiya about the death of Imam Ali:
and you are Death, on the day of Death, when Death
obeys your every wish and command.
Everyone who would hear of your tales
would tremble in fear, of your presence
Yowza!
The most famous Shia performer is undoubtedly superstar Bassim al-Karbalie, I think he is one of the best performers I've ever heard - his poems greatly use a tool which Western Music could only dream of having: the quarter-note.
Blood, violence, darkness, epic battles, long-hidden secrets. Screw Maiden, man! Of course, it's kinda frightening that some people actually believe this shit, but then again, what more could you possibly want?
Maseer (March) Shiite pilgrims walk from everywhere towards Karbala, in a symbolic cememoration of Hussein's march towards that accursed city with 74 of his family and women and children(why?) to meet the Umayyad army. While this practice was present in individual patterns, it did not become widely adopted until 1970.
Flagellation At its most extreme, Shi'ism rituals can be as severe and ominous as any Opus Dei around - Flagellation or Latum is the beating of chests in unison to the rhythm of a sung verse by a radood, a person who recites a poem usually about the death of a Shiite religious figure, be it Ali, Fatima, Hussein, Zainab, Abbas and even recently, the destruction of the reverred Askari shrines in Samarra. The beating of chest is a traditional Arab way of showing grief, mostly performed by women.
Tatbeer or (head-splitting) This practice is derived from the way Imam Ali was killed, while he was praying dawn when a person called Bin Muljim killed him by a sword which hit his forehead. As a form of solidarity and remembrance, a mutabir brings a sword to his forehead and gently stabs with the wide sheath of the sword - blood usually spurts in great lengths, eventually covering the whole person in blood, it is one of the most controversial and sickening practices, and has been introduced by a Turkish brigade coming from the Kaukaz.
Tashbeeh or Re-enactment Those are convoys which re-enact the battle of al-Taff with great detail, from the beginning of the battle until the decapitation of Imam Hussein. This was imported from Iran at the end of the 18th century.
All these practices above are considered the most iconic, graphic representations of Shi'ism today. In particular the flagellation, Most religious Shia scholars condemn all these acts, but all their edicts against them have been met with disapproval and rejection, and sometimes even anger. Religion sometimes opposes thinking, and as the majority of Shiites in Iraq are common and poor, they oppose rationalization and follow only emotion, and consider this as an unthinkable practice that may be for some people the most important, and basically the nutshell, of religion, to try and shed the most tears in hope of getting the intercession of the holy figure they are mourning. The scholars had to grudgingly accept this, a scholar once said: 'The truth of Islam has been lost between the Sunni and Shi'ite scholars, Sunnis followed the whims of the ruler, and Shiites followed the whims of the people." There are also other reasons for this complete disobedience, The Ashura ceremonies is a massive group-activity that invokes feelings of strength and identity, it is the only purely Shia activity to be practiced on such a massive scale, and anything against it will fall on deaf ears. This is why Shiite political factions greatly pushed this exercise after post-Saddam war, despite the unfortuante result of so many people being exposed as an easy prey for any would-be malignant force, despite repeated terrorist attacks which killed many people in 2003 and 2004, Shiites politicians have stubbornly pushed people to practice them, as if Shi'ism is all about this - a foolish show of defiance. Also, a whole trade has been created around these practices, it is interesting to notice that most of the people who actually perform those flagellations and tatbeers are from the dregs of society and the lowest of lows, and have nothing to do whatsoever with religion. It's more about identity and the ominous flair of the processions.
Today, religion is all about big show, most of Iraqis (and Arabs) are not traditional Muslims in the sense, most of them think about sex more often than God.
Admittedly, those processions are somewhat exotic in their own way, any serious fan of violent, angry music should give Shia latmiyas a go, once you get past all that initial disgust and bypass all religious identification, try to look at it as you would look at Greek mythologies or read the Odysseus. It's got plenty of cool stuff: a plethora of sad, dark melodies ; hordes of epic battles between Good and Evil, with Evil always victorious - and also, it sends shivers down one's spine when you remember that the only musical instrument being used, the oddly time-signatured precussion is made by thousand hands beating down a thousand chests. Look at this frightening verse from a latmiya about the death of Imam Ali:
and you are Death, on the day of Death, when Death
obeys your every wish and command.
Everyone who would hear of your tales
would tremble in fear, of your presence
Yowza!
The most famous Shia performer is undoubtedly superstar Bassim al-Karbalie, I think he is one of the best performers I've ever heard - his poems greatly use a tool which Western Music could only dream of having: the quarter-note.
Blood, violence, darkness, epic battles, long-hidden secrets. Screw Maiden, man! Of course, it's kinda frightening that some people actually believe this shit, but then again, what more could you possibly want?
Thursday, January 25, 2007
Iraq In Fragments
I have had the pleasant opportunity to watch two Iraq documentaries made by James Longley, one of them, the 60-minute Iraq In Fragments, won several awards, including the Sundance Best Doc 2006 as well as being sidelined for Oscar, it's shot in the three major 'fragments' of Iraq, Sunni center, Shia south and Kurdish north, in the 2003-2004 period, the second documentary is much less shorter, at 21 minutes, which follows the story of a countryside mother which tries to find consolation for her small HIV-infected child, called Sari's Mother.
Iraq In Fragments (watch trailer here)
As a budding filmmaker myself, the first thing that struck me about this film was its sense of beauty and detail. Kurt Vonnegut said: 'The main objective of artists is to make fellow human beings appreciate being alive at least a bit more.", and when I gaze at these dirty, commoplace streets and signs that I never once batted an eye against while I was living there, I am genuinely delighted by the way Longley treats them, with care and beauty, it makes you feel significant to have been part of it. Director James Longley certainly has an eye for detail, and this documentary is chock-full of emphasis on poetic scenery, rather than becoming one of those docus whose most important objective is facts, often using people as nothing more than talking heasd, this documentary addresses a very important problem in the current coverage of Iraqi war: personalization of the Iraqis, something which have baffled and annoyed me for quite some time, the world must know that those "10 people killed" who appear everyday on the newsticker were once living, breathing humans who had stories, mothers, daughters, ambitions and dreams behind them. We are humans in as much as you are.
The documentary starts in Baghdad, in a ghetto area near Sheikh Abdul-Kadir al-Gilani, an important Sunni shrine, it follows 11-year-old Mohammed, a fatherless boy who works as a shop assistant in a dirty car-repair shop. His story is nothing special, as he treks around the few places which form his environment: his school, shop and home, but it is also the most fascinating part of the documentary. Before I watched the documentary, I read James Langely saying on his website that Mohammed was chosen partly because he had a 'Dickensian' quality about him. I was skeptical about this, but the description doesn't do justice enough to Mohammed. This unlikely hero, a thin, dirty, downtrodden existence whose most striking feature are unescapable eyes - forever locked in a state of inner sadness that greatly expresses what his broken, three-word sentences cannot. Mohammed is a convenient and true allegory for the way most Iraqis feel. The relationship he shares with the shopowner, who sometimes cuddles him but often hits and curses him, is realistic and emotional, and is a great deal more interesting than the later alcohol raid alongside Mahdi's army milita, for example.
The second part treks with Aws al-Khafaji, Muqtada al-Sadr's representative in Nassriya during 2003-2004, it alternates between ominous Shiiite Latmiyas (flagellation) processions, one brilliant shot is of al-Khafaji overlooking the processions beating his chest in silence, and official meetings and conferences, Sadr himself appears in two conferences, as well as rival Ammar al-Hakim, greeting protestors during the march against the death of his uncle in Najaf. al-Khafaji is a a very predictable result of his environment, while his organization is a rigid one that has caused more harm in Iraq than most, you cannot help but sympathisize with him in the same way some people sympathized with Saddam Hussein, the contrast between Sadr's meancing, boorish presence and al-Khafaji is striking, al-Khafaji looks like a kind, frail person who has been whipped up by the years of torment and violence that plagued Iraq, despite their savageness - they are still Iraqis, and one cannot help but recoil in regret as to why did it have to go so wrong. This part is not as immeidate as the first one, but it does contain some interesting incidents, like the alcohol raid by the Mahdi's Army on Nassriya's market. The filmmaker actually accompanies them throughout the whole raid. After the raid, the militamen recite the Ta'jeel supplication, which had hit international news after they used it during Saddam's execution.
The third part is filmed in Kurdish Sulaymaniya, in a rural outskirt with a farmer and his children, the Kurds have no holdbacks on how they see Iraq:
"Three pieces, Sunnis, Shias and Kurds - blood has been spilled between us, and that's why we can never be united again."
In reality, those people are not very much different than the rest of the hungry, poor, backward masses of Iraq - they are also very religious, but the ethnticity is more important than the religion, you can feel how anxious they are for their future. It is also the most uninteresting part of the documentary, but it is important in showing the differences between the Kurdish north and the rest of the country.
However, I must say that I felt extremely affected by the enchanting 21-min Sari's Mother. Almost ancedotal in comparison, but compact and concise - an epic of quiet, but ever so deadly, desperation. At least as visually astonishing as the first and with the same focus on beautiful personalization, Sari's Mother is a profound, interesting and greatly moving tale of a mother who finds all doors locked up in front of her and a wonderful, smiling boy who will not be alive in a few months...tears welled up as I finished it.
The documentaries show Iraqis as mostly poor, confused people and the Americans are often depicted as aliens, shot from faraway cuddled in their convoys, which is exactly how people see them...from a political slant, the documentaries imply that all the mishap has been waylaid by the American occupation, I think this statement is half-true, as Iraqis themselves have played a great deal in the destruction of the country, the documentaries does not reveal any secrets or construct anything politically significant, it is a mere look at normal Iraqis going about their lives, but all in all, these two documentaries are important for anyone who wants to understand why are these Iraqis not so grateful for being liberated from Saddam Hussein. Go see them.
Iraq In Fragments (watch trailer here)
As a budding filmmaker myself, the first thing that struck me about this film was its sense of beauty and detail. Kurt Vonnegut said: 'The main objective of artists is to make fellow human beings appreciate being alive at least a bit more.", and when I gaze at these dirty, commoplace streets and signs that I never once batted an eye against while I was living there, I am genuinely delighted by the way Longley treats them, with care and beauty, it makes you feel significant to have been part of it. Director James Longley certainly has an eye for detail, and this documentary is chock-full of emphasis on poetic scenery, rather than becoming one of those docus whose most important objective is facts, often using people as nothing more than talking heasd, this documentary addresses a very important problem in the current coverage of Iraqi war: personalization of the Iraqis, something which have baffled and annoyed me for quite some time, the world must know that those "10 people killed" who appear everyday on the newsticker were once living, breathing humans who had stories, mothers, daughters, ambitions and dreams behind them. We are humans in as much as you are.
The documentary starts in Baghdad, in a ghetto area near Sheikh Abdul-Kadir al-Gilani, an important Sunni shrine, it follows 11-year-old Mohammed, a fatherless boy who works as a shop assistant in a dirty car-repair shop. His story is nothing special, as he treks around the few places which form his environment: his school, shop and home, but it is also the most fascinating part of the documentary. Before I watched the documentary, I read James Langely saying on his website that Mohammed was chosen partly because he had a 'Dickensian' quality about him. I was skeptical about this, but the description doesn't do justice enough to Mohammed. This unlikely hero, a thin, dirty, downtrodden existence whose most striking feature are unescapable eyes - forever locked in a state of inner sadness that greatly expresses what his broken, three-word sentences cannot. Mohammed is a convenient and true allegory for the way most Iraqis feel. The relationship he shares with the shopowner, who sometimes cuddles him but often hits and curses him, is realistic and emotional, and is a great deal more interesting than the later alcohol raid alongside Mahdi's army milita, for example.
The second part treks with Aws al-Khafaji, Muqtada al-Sadr's representative in Nassriya during 2003-2004, it alternates between ominous Shiiite Latmiyas (flagellation) processions, one brilliant shot is of al-Khafaji overlooking the processions beating his chest in silence, and official meetings and conferences, Sadr himself appears in two conferences, as well as rival Ammar al-Hakim, greeting protestors during the march against the death of his uncle in Najaf. al-Khafaji is a a very predictable result of his environment, while his organization is a rigid one that has caused more harm in Iraq than most, you cannot help but sympathisize with him in the same way some people sympathized with Saddam Hussein, the contrast between Sadr's meancing, boorish presence and al-Khafaji is striking, al-Khafaji looks like a kind, frail person who has been whipped up by the years of torment and violence that plagued Iraq, despite their savageness - they are still Iraqis, and one cannot help but recoil in regret as to why did it have to go so wrong. This part is not as immeidate as the first one, but it does contain some interesting incidents, like the alcohol raid by the Mahdi's Army on Nassriya's market. The filmmaker actually accompanies them throughout the whole raid. After the raid, the militamen recite the Ta'jeel supplication, which had hit international news after they used it during Saddam's execution.
The third part is filmed in Kurdish Sulaymaniya, in a rural outskirt with a farmer and his children, the Kurds have no holdbacks on how they see Iraq:
"Three pieces, Sunnis, Shias and Kurds - blood has been spilled between us, and that's why we can never be united again."
In reality, those people are not very much different than the rest of the hungry, poor, backward masses of Iraq - they are also very religious, but the ethnticity is more important than the religion, you can feel how anxious they are for their future. It is also the most uninteresting part of the documentary, but it is important in showing the differences between the Kurdish north and the rest of the country.
However, I must say that I felt extremely affected by the enchanting 21-min Sari's Mother. Almost ancedotal in comparison, but compact and concise - an epic of quiet, but ever so deadly, desperation. At least as visually astonishing as the first and with the same focus on beautiful personalization, Sari's Mother is a profound, interesting and greatly moving tale of a mother who finds all doors locked up in front of her and a wonderful, smiling boy who will not be alive in a few months...tears welled up as I finished it.
The documentaries show Iraqis as mostly poor, confused people and the Americans are often depicted as aliens, shot from faraway cuddled in their convoys, which is exactly how people see them...from a political slant, the documentaries imply that all the mishap has been waylaid by the American occupation, I think this statement is half-true, as Iraqis themselves have played a great deal in the destruction of the country, the documentaries does not reveal any secrets or construct anything politically significant, it is a mere look at normal Iraqis going about their lives, but all in all, these two documentaries are important for anyone who wants to understand why are these Iraqis not so grateful for being liberated from Saddam Hussein. Go see them.
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
7 Taxis: Examinations Into Society
The first taxi I rode was on 10:45 AM. He was mostly silent, the only conversation we had was:
"Directly to the university?"
"Yes."
....
"Mighty cold, don't you think."
"Mmm-hmm."
----------------------------------
The second taxi I rode was on 11:10 AM. He was an old man with a knack of interfering in everything. I am with my grandmother, she wants to buy something from a poor person who sells calendars at the traffic stop.
Me : "That's expensive."
Granny : "Well, he is standing on God's door." (meaning he's really poor)
Driver: "Yes. Sure there are those people who will trick you instantly upon knowning that you are Iraqi, but this guy like the hajja here says is on God's door."
Me : "Yea."
Driver: "Poor thing, he stands there all day trying to make a living, and then they come and bust him, while the real thieves in the suits and the houses, and nobody does a thing to them."
Me: "They bust him because they can..."
I explain to him the intricate crime/begging network in Iraq.
Driver: "You know, what is happening to Iraq is that, there is a lot of money and hence everybody's fighting over it, and when a guy needs support, he coaxes all angry on Palestine."
Me : "You're right." This was an allusion to Saddam, clearly. Perhaps this guy is Jordanian, cuz usually Palestinains are gung-ho Saddamists.
Driver: "While in Palestine they are poor, they have nothing, they can't do anything."
Me : "I guess." That meant he was Palestinian. Weird.
He was a nice guy, insisted on driving us all the way to the door.
I dropped off my Grandmother at the embassy and went to do some errand at 11:15 AM, The third taxi driver was brooding, he was stone-chipped and wore a traditional Jordanian headdress like he needed to tell me something bad, but the conversation wasn't going where he wanted. We were talking about money.
Me: "But you know what I found out, money can buy everyone - there's no such thing as integrity in the world anymore."
Taxi Driver: "No such thing. My friend, are you Iraqi?"
"Yeah"
"Those people you were saying are not all people, there are still people who are genuine, who will not give up their traditions." His accent was bedouin, which suggested something important about his origins.
A guy in a Land Cruiser was reversing his car nearby, the taxi driver took the chance and belted out what he really needed to say.
"Goddamm peasant thinks he's rich, those Palestinians, let me tell you about them - they shied away from their lands, sold it to the Israelis, like a bunch of faggots, and they come here coaxing like they got a lot of money. Son of a bitch - You were plowing farms all your life...you look at me son when I tell you, these people can be sold at the whim, but the genuine article (it wasn't hard to know who he was referring to by that) keeps to his pricinples and traditions. They come in here with their fake phoney modern accents 'A'ollak' wu 'Ulu' and all that, while we talk in the genuine Arab tongue, like you Iraqis."
I just nodded.
"Look at my haircut, this is how we cut, but these Palestinains, see their haircuts, all standing and i don't know what (spikey, but he doesn't know how to say it), and their women, those are the women who wear tight and can be bought while their parents don't care, but our women, they are true religious and wear Islamic dress."
"Okay, I think so."
1:00 PM, The fourth taxi driver was resilient and silent. We both listened to a religious lecture about Umm al-Mo'mineen Hafsa, followed by Quranic recitations.
1:45 PM, The fifth was almost a re-thinking of the fourth, I continued to listen to the recitiation.
3:40 PM, The sixth was a bearded guy that screamed Islam. But he was easygoing and nice, this combination reminds me of my father's old friends, who have a favourable impression on my childhood.
Me: "So what do you think about Iraq?"
Taxi: "When the fitna (tensions) spreads, it spreads, and everything in the end works for the benefit of the Americans."
Me: "That's not the real problem, if we were strong people, we wouldn't have been affected, what we need today is good examples and to lessen these tensions. these horrible tensions."
Taxi: "But what brings these tensions?"
Me: "The cruelty of the leaders."
Taxi: "Exactly."
Me: "Brtutality does not solve anything, that is an old lesson learned from the days of al-Hajjaj, isn't it? You see, most people here hate Shias, but they are still Muslims just like us. right?"
Taxi: "You are absolutely correct." This was very unusual. It was my stop.
I tipped him extra.
11:30 PM, The seventh guy kept silent in a scary way, he's ask brief questions ominously that seemed to be going badly.
"My brother is Iraqi...?"
"Yes."
..........
"Where from?"
"Baghdad."
"You're Shiite, I guess?"
"What? Why? No." This was surprising, he probably wanted to lull me into assurance, but he kinda failed as he was asking in a very unnatural, careful way.
-----
"I just hear stuff about Baghdad being Shiite."
"It will be soon."
"Yeah, Shiites took it now."
"Yeah, Shiites."
....
"So I wanna know if that guy is Shiite or not, how will I?"
"Various things, name, dress, accent...you can't know unless u'r Iraqi."
....
"So, how many Sunnis are there in Iraq?"
"about 15-20%"
.....
"Hmmm...."
I was very sick of this by now. His talk rekindled memories of the taxi drivers in Iraq.
-----
"May God curse the Shiiites, you know how I know when a guy is Shiite, when he starts telling me : There's no differnece, we're all Iraqis - we're all united."
"But you should know...err...it's somewhat....true, even if they have some mistakes, they are still Muslims, you hate..er...Shiites because you have not lived with any all your life, you think that...er...you know..err...this sort of thinking is what crippled Iraq my friend."
"Yeah." He retorted, probably thinking I'm Shiite after all.
I walked out with a bad taste in my mouth, all I wanted to do was bust his head on the windshield, but I have a nature of being prudent with taxi drivers, something one learns from Iraq. I hated myself because I could not do anything about it. I am wary of all this hate, of all this name-calling when everyone is to blame.
I promise you, that on the next taxi fare, I won't shut up.
"Directly to the university?"
"Yes."
....
"Mighty cold, don't you think."
"Mmm-hmm."
----------------------------------
The second taxi I rode was on 11:10 AM. He was an old man with a knack of interfering in everything. I am with my grandmother, she wants to buy something from a poor person who sells calendars at the traffic stop.
Me : "That's expensive."
Granny : "Well, he is standing on God's door." (meaning he's really poor)
Driver: "Yes. Sure there are those people who will trick you instantly upon knowning that you are Iraqi, but this guy like the hajja here says is on God's door."
Me : "Yea."
Driver: "Poor thing, he stands there all day trying to make a living, and then they come and bust him, while the real thieves in the suits and the houses, and nobody does a thing to them."
Me: "They bust him because they can..."
I explain to him the intricate crime/begging network in Iraq.
Driver: "You know, what is happening to Iraq is that, there is a lot of money and hence everybody's fighting over it, and when a guy needs support, he coaxes all angry on Palestine."
Me : "You're right." This was an allusion to Saddam, clearly. Perhaps this guy is Jordanian, cuz usually Palestinains are gung-ho Saddamists.
Driver: "While in Palestine they are poor, they have nothing, they can't do anything."
Me : "I guess." That meant he was Palestinian. Weird.
He was a nice guy, insisted on driving us all the way to the door.
I dropped off my Grandmother at the embassy and went to do some errand at 11:15 AM, The third taxi driver was brooding, he was stone-chipped and wore a traditional Jordanian headdress like he needed to tell me something bad, but the conversation wasn't going where he wanted. We were talking about money.
Me: "But you know what I found out, money can buy everyone - there's no such thing as integrity in the world anymore."
Taxi Driver: "No such thing. My friend, are you Iraqi?"
"Yeah"
"Those people you were saying are not all people, there are still people who are genuine, who will not give up their traditions." His accent was bedouin, which suggested something important about his origins.
A guy in a Land Cruiser was reversing his car nearby, the taxi driver took the chance and belted out what he really needed to say.
"Goddamm peasant thinks he's rich, those Palestinians, let me tell you about them - they shied away from their lands, sold it to the Israelis, like a bunch of faggots, and they come here coaxing like they got a lot of money. Son of a bitch - You were plowing farms all your life...you look at me son when I tell you, these people can be sold at the whim, but the genuine article (it wasn't hard to know who he was referring to by that) keeps to his pricinples and traditions. They come in here with their fake phoney modern accents 'A'ollak' wu 'Ulu' and all that, while we talk in the genuine Arab tongue, like you Iraqis."
I just nodded.
"Look at my haircut, this is how we cut, but these Palestinains, see their haircuts, all standing and i don't know what (spikey, but he doesn't know how to say it), and their women, those are the women who wear tight and can be bought while their parents don't care, but our women, they are true religious and wear Islamic dress."
"Okay, I think so."
1:00 PM, The fourth taxi driver was resilient and silent. We both listened to a religious lecture about Umm al-Mo'mineen Hafsa, followed by Quranic recitations.
1:45 PM, The fifth was almost a re-thinking of the fourth, I continued to listen to the recitiation.
3:40 PM, The sixth was a bearded guy that screamed Islam. But he was easygoing and nice, this combination reminds me of my father's old friends, who have a favourable impression on my childhood.
Me: "So what do you think about Iraq?"
Taxi: "When the fitna (tensions) spreads, it spreads, and everything in the end works for the benefit of the Americans."
Me: "That's not the real problem, if we were strong people, we wouldn't have been affected, what we need today is good examples and to lessen these tensions. these horrible tensions."
Taxi: "But what brings these tensions?"
Me: "The cruelty of the leaders."
Taxi: "Exactly."
Me: "Brtutality does not solve anything, that is an old lesson learned from the days of al-Hajjaj, isn't it? You see, most people here hate Shias, but they are still Muslims just like us. right?"
Taxi: "You are absolutely correct." This was very unusual. It was my stop.
I tipped him extra.
11:30 PM, The seventh guy kept silent in a scary way, he's ask brief questions ominously that seemed to be going badly.
"My brother is Iraqi...?"
"Yes."
..........
"Where from?"
"Baghdad."
"You're Shiite, I guess?"
"What? Why? No." This was surprising, he probably wanted to lull me into assurance, but he kinda failed as he was asking in a very unnatural, careful way.
-----
"I just hear stuff about Baghdad being Shiite."
"It will be soon."
"Yeah, Shiites took it now."
"Yeah, Shiites."
....
"So I wanna know if that guy is Shiite or not, how will I?"
"Various things, name, dress, accent...you can't know unless u'r Iraqi."
....
"So, how many Sunnis are there in Iraq?"
"about 15-20%"
.....
"Hmmm...."
I was very sick of this by now. His talk rekindled memories of the taxi drivers in Iraq.
-----
"May God curse the Shiiites, you know how I know when a guy is Shiite, when he starts telling me : There's no differnece, we're all Iraqis - we're all united."
"But you should know...err...it's somewhat....true, even if they have some mistakes, they are still Muslims, you hate..er...Shiites because you have not lived with any all your life, you think that...er...you know..err...this sort of thinking is what crippled Iraq my friend."
"Yeah." He retorted, probably thinking I'm Shiite after all.
I walked out with a bad taste in my mouth, all I wanted to do was bust his head on the windshield, but I have a nature of being prudent with taxi drivers, something one learns from Iraq. I hated myself because I could not do anything about it. I am wary of all this hate, of all this name-calling when everyone is to blame.
I promise you, that on the next taxi fare, I won't shut up.
Sunday, January 07, 2007
Ali's Illiad
July, 2006
Amman
El Mawardi Cafe, al-Rabiya
I was meeting my friend Rami for the first time since he relocated to Jordan since 2005, he has brought his friend, Mohammed, with him. Mohammed is a very pleasent, good-natured kid, he's three years younger than both of us, and he's a Shiite. Rami is also a Shiite, but his mother is a Sunni. After a pleasant introduction and a slew of jokes to break the ice, I asked Mohammed why did he move to Jordan. This is what he said:
My father, Ali, runs a contracting firm in al-Harthiya district in Baghdad. Six months ago, masked gunmen broke into his firm, beat my father until he was unconscious, then took him and dumped him in the trunk, and rode on...my father woke up shortly thereafter, and the first thing he did was empty his pocket of all the business cards of foreign firms. After a long and bumpy ride, the gunmen took my father and threw him in an empty room in a deserted, dirty house. They accused him of working with the crusading occupation.
The gunmen called on Mohammed's family, and demanded a big chunk of money as ransom (I can't remember the exact amount, but it was impossible), they wanted it in two days notice or his father will be beheaded.
Those two days were, needless to say, frantic. In between sits with his mother, his uncles and cousins, and selling everything they can get their hands on...Mohammed's family managed to obtain the desired sum.
As for his father, the Mujahideen said to him: You shall spend the day alone, tomorrow the Emir will come and decide what your fate shall be.
and with these words, they left. and Ali slept.
With the fact that Ali's father deals with foreign firms (Mohammed didn't say exactly what was the type of business) and his Shi'ism, there was little chance that the Emir will persuaded to understand the concept of mercy in this case. Also bear in mind that back in 2005, sectarain killings weren't as audacious as they were today, they were usually veiled in ransoms.
Sometime after that, Ali's father woke up, alone. After a time of defeated idleness...Ali decided that he will not go down without a fight, he tried with all his might to do something about the rope that ties his hands...after much wriggling, the rope somewhat let loose and he was freed - after a brief euphoria, Ali realized that nothing much has been achieved, perhaps the Mujahideen didn't care much about tying him up, because the room was locked and there was only a small, high window that will not provide exit to anything but a cat.
So this is how it ends, huh?
Ali's father looked around, gave up and cried...
Is there a God? the question was posed for centuries past, but in this particular case, I strongly think so.
As as footnote, Ali's father decided to feel the bricks in the wall, which was unpainted. Lucklily, one brick was loose...Ali's father did all what he can to further pull the brick out of way, after much work and effort, he did pull it out, and used it to destory the adjacent bricks.
Half an hour later, Ali's father went out in the open like a madman who has never seen the sun...the area in which he was was semi-barren, he went running into the middle of the desert, people who were in the area fled, and as he was crying for help from a pick-up truck, the driver alarmingly drove away, Ali's father collapsed in the middle of the street.
10 minutes later, however, the pick-up truck returned, carried Ali, and provided water and food for him. He drove him down into Ramadi, found a way for him to get into Baghdad, and wished him well with these words: "This is just you know that not everyone in Ramadi are bad people. I bid you farewell."
Ali's father returned late that day, the next morning, Mohammed and his uncles were supposed to hand a briefcase filled with cash to the Mujahideen in exchange for Ali's safety.
They were sitting dead silent when Ali's father came banging on the door....his mother cried again, but this time it was tears of joy.
The next day, Mohammed, his father Ali, his mother and his siters were on the road leading to Ramadi again, but this time they weren't stopping until they reach all the way to Amman, Jordan.
NOTE: The father's real name is not Ali, in the previous story, the boy was actually named Omar. I am recounting the story from my memory, so several details may be missing.
Amman
El Mawardi Cafe, al-Rabiya
I was meeting my friend Rami for the first time since he relocated to Jordan since 2005, he has brought his friend, Mohammed, with him. Mohammed is a very pleasent, good-natured kid, he's three years younger than both of us, and he's a Shiite. Rami is also a Shiite, but his mother is a Sunni. After a pleasant introduction and a slew of jokes to break the ice, I asked Mohammed why did he move to Jordan. This is what he said:
My father, Ali, runs a contracting firm in al-Harthiya district in Baghdad. Six months ago, masked gunmen broke into his firm, beat my father until he was unconscious, then took him and dumped him in the trunk, and rode on...my father woke up shortly thereafter, and the first thing he did was empty his pocket of all the business cards of foreign firms. After a long and bumpy ride, the gunmen took my father and threw him in an empty room in a deserted, dirty house. They accused him of working with the crusading occupation.
The gunmen called on Mohammed's family, and demanded a big chunk of money as ransom (I can't remember the exact amount, but it was impossible), they wanted it in two days notice or his father will be beheaded.
Those two days were, needless to say, frantic. In between sits with his mother, his uncles and cousins, and selling everything they can get their hands on...Mohammed's family managed to obtain the desired sum.
As for his father, the Mujahideen said to him: You shall spend the day alone, tomorrow the Emir will come and decide what your fate shall be.
and with these words, they left. and Ali slept.
With the fact that Ali's father deals with foreign firms (Mohammed didn't say exactly what was the type of business) and his Shi'ism, there was little chance that the Emir will persuaded to understand the concept of mercy in this case. Also bear in mind that back in 2005, sectarain killings weren't as audacious as they were today, they were usually veiled in ransoms.
Sometime after that, Ali's father woke up, alone. After a time of defeated idleness...Ali decided that he will not go down without a fight, he tried with all his might to do something about the rope that ties his hands...after much wriggling, the rope somewhat let loose and he was freed - after a brief euphoria, Ali realized that nothing much has been achieved, perhaps the Mujahideen didn't care much about tying him up, because the room was locked and there was only a small, high window that will not provide exit to anything but a cat.
So this is how it ends, huh?
Ali's father looked around, gave up and cried...
Is there a God? the question was posed for centuries past, but in this particular case, I strongly think so.
As as footnote, Ali's father decided to feel the bricks in the wall, which was unpainted. Lucklily, one brick was loose...Ali's father did all what he can to further pull the brick out of way, after much work and effort, he did pull it out, and used it to destory the adjacent bricks.
Half an hour later, Ali's father went out in the open like a madman who has never seen the sun...the area in which he was was semi-barren, he went running into the middle of the desert, people who were in the area fled, and as he was crying for help from a pick-up truck, the driver alarmingly drove away, Ali's father collapsed in the middle of the street.
10 minutes later, however, the pick-up truck returned, carried Ali, and provided water and food for him. He drove him down into Ramadi, found a way for him to get into Baghdad, and wished him well with these words: "This is just you know that not everyone in Ramadi are bad people. I bid you farewell."
Ali's father returned late that day, the next morning, Mohammed and his uncles were supposed to hand a briefcase filled with cash to the Mujahideen in exchange for Ali's safety.
They were sitting dead silent when Ali's father came banging on the door....his mother cried again, but this time it was tears of joy.
The next day, Mohammed, his father Ali, his mother and his siters were on the road leading to Ramadi again, but this time they weren't stopping until they reach all the way to Amman, Jordan.
NOTE: The father's real name is not Ali, in the previous story, the boy was actually named Omar. I am recounting the story from my memory, so several details may be missing.
Thursday, January 04, 2007
Omar's Oddyssey
---------------------------------------------------
This is a translation of the Arabic posted a week ago
----------------------------------------------------
In the past, I didn't want to leave Iraq - earlier to February 2006, life was difficult, but in a way, Iraqis got used to it, after my friends were killed, it took on a whole new meaning, and two days after the last friend passed to the world beyond, I heard this story, it was all I needed to know that there is no life for me here anymore.
Had this story told by anyone other than a guy that I know won't talk crap to me, I would have immediately called it off as typical Iraqi exaggeration one way or the other, Omar may have exaggerted as some point or the other - as it simply involves pretty much everything and everyone you see on TV - and much, much more! You are probably so bored of individual Iraqi death stories by now but this one simply crosses the Rambo line.
WARNING: This story has a happy ending.
------------------
ENTRY
------------------
An oddyssey normally refers to the mythical trip undertaken by Odysseus in ancient Greek literature, where he encounters strange beings and nameless creatures on his way back home. The following real-life story has been narrated to me by a friend of mine, Omar, one hot morning in Baghdad, and if it doesn't qualify as an honest-to-Homer Oddyssey, I don't know what does.
Omar is my Kia driver, he is my age, but have dropped out of high school midway through and started a carrier as a plumber, before buying a Kia and starting this 'line'. He is mentioned earlier in my blog, in this post. Omar is a streetwise kind of guy, but in the same time he is such a sweet lad, despite his constant swearing and sun-burned tan that suggests back-alleys, his green eyes betary a niceity which I have seen very little of these days.
One day, Omar's mother, his sisters, and two younger brothers (one born 1987, the other 1990) were all taking a taxicab from now-infamous Adhamiya, unfortunately, the taxi dude turned out to be a chewer, (i.e. a person who's connected to a criminal organization one way or the other, the traditional menaing of chewer indicates the middle man between regular people eligible for kidnap and murder, and the interested gangs) The Chewer delievered them to their Grandfather's house safe, but, perhaps on knowning that they are Sunni in someway, or perhaps of something they might have said, the guy returned with 3 pick-up trucks, broke the door and took the two boys away.
Omar wasn't around at the time, his mother called him weeping and sobbing, after knowning what has occured, he hurried back home, took a Shiite friend of his, who we shall call Salim, and went as fast as he could to an area in Baghdad now known as The Presidential, where a Sadr office is located. By the time he undertook this quest, the time was 9:00 pm, way past the curfew, he was stopped by several checkpoints, frenzily explaining his story he would be let go by the soldiers, at one point he asked them for help, but whenver the words 'militia' was heard, faces would recoil in fear and he would just be let through.
Upon reaching the presidential area, Omar lost his grip and his friend Salim took over driving, the area was barren and empty, like all of Baghdad, after roaming around for a few blocks lost they found a drunk guy, who answered in a drunk, overconfident "Hell, yeah! Sure I know where the office is!!!" They picked him up, and despite his drunk incongruence, he sure knew where the office is. However, The office was just as desolate and unhospitable as everything else is.
At this particular moment, Omar's frustration bubbled to the surface, and he let loose in massive frantic that cursed all the Shiites on the face of the earth, he kept on screaming, yelling and shouting until the glorious pick-up trucks came back to the office, and beat them inside it. Omar and Salim took a few cables, but the militiamen beat the shit out of the drunk guy, while on duty, in sync with the religious ideology of the Mahdi's army - they assume a very hostile tone to alcohol. That done, Omar and Salim were separated for questioning.
-What's your name?
-Omar. he gave that up, cuz they already looked in his ID
-You Sunni or Shiite?
-Shiite (cable slashes across his body)
-Don't talk shit to me now.
-Sunni....Sunni....
-What brought you here?
Omar told him his whole story, the tale was filled with joyful intermissions exercised by the investigator on Omar's thin, frail body. After the investigator got tired, they brought Salim, who looked like he's been treated with a similar reception, and then shortly afterwards came the Sayyid.
Sayyid is the 'religious authority' in the office, he's the guy with the turban, all militiamen cowered in respect, he asked the two about their names, and then quickly issued his verdict. "Those people are terrorists, go to Sadda and kill them very well."
------------------------
MEANWHILE.....
------------------------
Man: What is your name?
Omar's youngest bro: Mazin
Man: Are you a Salafi (Wahhabi)?
Mazin : No.
Man: Do you love Ali?
Mazin: Yes.
Man: Curse Omar.
Mazin: (curses Omar)
Man: Tell me what you know about the 'brave resistance'?
Mazin: I don't know anything....
(Man falls with a sledgehammer deep on Mazin's fingernails....a horrible shriek comes from Mazin, as broken nails are driven deep inside his own flesh in a mess of blood.)
Man (laughing): Good. The Mujahideen has taught you not to speak.
Afterwards, Mazin has heard the name of that man, when Omar told it to me, it was the first time I ever heard of it, but I would hear it countless and countless times after that.
The man's name was Abu Dera'.
----------------------
SADDA
----------------------
The executioner took the two unfortunate men and hurled them inside Omar's own minivan (Kia), they were blindfolded, he switched the ignition, and the car was filled with Hussam al-Russam's Iraqi party music, he quickly turned it off and murmuered in anger, and the car now headed to Sadda. Sadda is an area in Sadr City that serves as the execution ground for the Mahdi's army, Omar has now gone from crumbling despair through unflinching anger into silent oblivion. But his friend Salim kept talking to the man every now and then.
-Sir, where are we going.
-Sadda.
-How long yet?
-Soon. ...
-Sir, are you going to kill us?
- ....
The sir didn't answer, and his silence soon grew until it horribly engulfed the whole car, Omar became certain of his destiny at that moment, and he began reciting the Shahadas (couplets recited by Muslims upon death) as quickly and repeatedly as possible, he said that all he was thinking about at that particulalr moment of time was how his mother has wound up with losing all her sons together, he just wanted to have once last chance to see her and tell her goodbye.
The car reached the Saddah, the man descended and took the two silent boys to the ground, he took his gun out, reloaded....and then his mobile rang out. The caller ordered the man to stop the execution but continue routine investigation. It seems that Salim's father has connections, and his connections worked at just the right time.
As I told Omar, and as Iraqis normally would say, Omar has "the luck of bitches."
They were transferred from in various cars afterwards, until finally reaching an air-conditioned prison, the drunk man was reinstated in the shithouse, though.
After a merciful investigation that didn't involve attempts to connect coaxial cables with Omar's asshole, a man came smiling sociably and said: "Amoori, we apologize, you're free to go."
"What about my brothers?"
"They are doing well and alive in Sadr City. Don't worry, they will return soon."
For the first time that night, Omar exhaled.
------------------------------
OUTSIDE
------------------------------
Omar and Salim came out at 3 AM, like wet dogs in the rain, they rode Omar's Kia and proceeded down the road, but no sooner than they had crossed a few blocks that a swarm of bullets was being fired at them by local generator guards who mistook them for thieves. Omar pointed to the side of his Kia and sure enough, a nice line of holes decorated the side of the dark purple van. After they were well out of the way, they were met by, lo and behold, the old bandits of the streets! the average carjackers...four Opels flashed their headlights in the distance before Omar managed to use his experience as a Kia driver and dodge them around some side-streets, eventually ditching the car in some dump and spending the night at a friend's house.
Omar arrived in his house in Adhamiya the next day, to find that 2 brothers have already arrived before him, the older one wasn't tortured much, they only used his face as an ashtray, putting them out on his mouth, cheeks, nose and eyelids....but the youngest.....
the youngest was another story, a horror story, Abu Der'a's sledgehammer has made good memories out of his fingernails, and had transformed his knee-joints "Soaps, in Arabic" into actual soaps. His back was filled with light drill marks here and there....and whatever was left of him was filled with all sorts of mischief. He was immediately transported to Adhamiya's major hospital, al-Numan.
By noon, Omar's modest household was filled with all sorts of people - family relatives, friends and other people....soon, a group of men who Omar described as "al-Mujahideen" came smiling and tender, Omar's voice beamed with pride as he talked of the way one of them, upon wrapping up their diplomatic mission, swore to Omar that they'd make them pay back by 'hijacking a bus of Shiites.'
-----------------------------
"But, but, is that right?" I said to Omar in a low voice that came from the depths of some unrealistic pool that felt like an obligation, a laughable imitation of the corny, fake stuff they put on television.
"You're right, sure sure...I even told them so..." Omar's voice was just as dead.
NOTE: This story is happy, because nobody is killed - that's how far can a story be considered 'happy' in Iraq.
This is a translation of the Arabic posted a week ago
----------------------------------------------------
In the past, I didn't want to leave Iraq - earlier to February 2006, life was difficult, but in a way, Iraqis got used to it, after my friends were killed, it took on a whole new meaning, and two days after the last friend passed to the world beyond, I heard this story, it was all I needed to know that there is no life for me here anymore.
Had this story told by anyone other than a guy that I know won't talk crap to me, I would have immediately called it off as typical Iraqi exaggeration one way or the other, Omar may have exaggerted as some point or the other - as it simply involves pretty much everything and everyone you see on TV - and much, much more! You are probably so bored of individual Iraqi death stories by now but this one simply crosses the Rambo line.
WARNING: This story has a happy ending.
------------------
ENTRY
------------------
An oddyssey normally refers to the mythical trip undertaken by Odysseus in ancient Greek literature, where he encounters strange beings and nameless creatures on his way back home. The following real-life story has been narrated to me by a friend of mine, Omar, one hot morning in Baghdad, and if it doesn't qualify as an honest-to-Homer Oddyssey, I don't know what does.
Omar is my Kia driver, he is my age, but have dropped out of high school midway through and started a carrier as a plumber, before buying a Kia and starting this 'line'. He is mentioned earlier in my blog, in this post. Omar is a streetwise kind of guy, but in the same time he is such a sweet lad, despite his constant swearing and sun-burned tan that suggests back-alleys, his green eyes betary a niceity which I have seen very little of these days.
One day, Omar's mother, his sisters, and two younger brothers (one born 1987, the other 1990) were all taking a taxicab from now-infamous Adhamiya, unfortunately, the taxi dude turned out to be a chewer, (i.e. a person who's connected to a criminal organization one way or the other, the traditional menaing of chewer indicates the middle man between regular people eligible for kidnap and murder, and the interested gangs) The Chewer delievered them to their Grandfather's house safe, but, perhaps on knowning that they are Sunni in someway, or perhaps of something they might have said, the guy returned with 3 pick-up trucks, broke the door and took the two boys away.
Omar wasn't around at the time, his mother called him weeping and sobbing, after knowning what has occured, he hurried back home, took a Shiite friend of his, who we shall call Salim, and went as fast as he could to an area in Baghdad now known as The Presidential, where a Sadr office is located. By the time he undertook this quest, the time was 9:00 pm, way past the curfew, he was stopped by several checkpoints, frenzily explaining his story he would be let go by the soldiers, at one point he asked them for help, but whenver the words 'militia' was heard, faces would recoil in fear and he would just be let through.
Upon reaching the presidential area, Omar lost his grip and his friend Salim took over driving, the area was barren and empty, like all of Baghdad, after roaming around for a few blocks lost they found a drunk guy, who answered in a drunk, overconfident "Hell, yeah! Sure I know where the office is!!!" They picked him up, and despite his drunk incongruence, he sure knew where the office is. However, The office was just as desolate and unhospitable as everything else is.
At this particular moment, Omar's frustration bubbled to the surface, and he let loose in massive frantic that cursed all the Shiites on the face of the earth, he kept on screaming, yelling and shouting until the glorious pick-up trucks came back to the office, and beat them inside it. Omar and Salim took a few cables, but the militiamen beat the shit out of the drunk guy, while on duty, in sync with the religious ideology of the Mahdi's army - they assume a very hostile tone to alcohol. That done, Omar and Salim were separated for questioning.
-What's your name?
-Omar. he gave that up, cuz they already looked in his ID
-You Sunni or Shiite?
-Shiite (cable slashes across his body)
-Don't talk shit to me now.
-Sunni....Sunni....
-What brought you here?
Omar told him his whole story, the tale was filled with joyful intermissions exercised by the investigator on Omar's thin, frail body. After the investigator got tired, they brought Salim, who looked like he's been treated with a similar reception, and then shortly afterwards came the Sayyid.
Sayyid is the 'religious authority' in the office, he's the guy with the turban, all militiamen cowered in respect, he asked the two about their names, and then quickly issued his verdict. "Those people are terrorists, go to Sadda and kill them very well."
------------------------
MEANWHILE.....
------------------------
Man: What is your name?
Omar's youngest bro: Mazin
Man: Are you a Salafi (Wahhabi)?
Mazin : No.
Man: Do you love Ali?
Mazin: Yes.
Man: Curse Omar.
Mazin: (curses Omar)
Man: Tell me what you know about the 'brave resistance'?
Mazin: I don't know anything....
(Man falls with a sledgehammer deep on Mazin's fingernails....a horrible shriek comes from Mazin, as broken nails are driven deep inside his own flesh in a mess of blood.)
Man (laughing): Good. The Mujahideen has taught you not to speak.
Afterwards, Mazin has heard the name of that man, when Omar told it to me, it was the first time I ever heard of it, but I would hear it countless and countless times after that.
The man's name was Abu Dera'.
----------------------
SADDA
----------------------
The executioner took the two unfortunate men and hurled them inside Omar's own minivan (Kia), they were blindfolded, he switched the ignition, and the car was filled with Hussam al-Russam's Iraqi party music, he quickly turned it off and murmuered in anger, and the car now headed to Sadda. Sadda is an area in Sadr City that serves as the execution ground for the Mahdi's army, Omar has now gone from crumbling despair through unflinching anger into silent oblivion. But his friend Salim kept talking to the man every now and then.
-Sir, where are we going.
-Sadda.
-How long yet?
-Soon. ...
-Sir, are you going to kill us?
- ....
The sir didn't answer, and his silence soon grew until it horribly engulfed the whole car, Omar became certain of his destiny at that moment, and he began reciting the Shahadas (couplets recited by Muslims upon death) as quickly and repeatedly as possible, he said that all he was thinking about at that particulalr moment of time was how his mother has wound up with losing all her sons together, he just wanted to have once last chance to see her and tell her goodbye.
The car reached the Saddah, the man descended and took the two silent boys to the ground, he took his gun out, reloaded....and then his mobile rang out. The caller ordered the man to stop the execution but continue routine investigation. It seems that Salim's father has connections, and his connections worked at just the right time.
As I told Omar, and as Iraqis normally would say, Omar has "the luck of bitches."
They were transferred from in various cars afterwards, until finally reaching an air-conditioned prison, the drunk man was reinstated in the shithouse, though.
After a merciful investigation that didn't involve attempts to connect coaxial cables with Omar's asshole, a man came smiling sociably and said: "Amoori, we apologize, you're free to go."
"What about my brothers?"
"They are doing well and alive in Sadr City. Don't worry, they will return soon."
For the first time that night, Omar exhaled.
------------------------------
OUTSIDE
------------------------------
Omar and Salim came out at 3 AM, like wet dogs in the rain, they rode Omar's Kia and proceeded down the road, but no sooner than they had crossed a few blocks that a swarm of bullets was being fired at them by local generator guards who mistook them for thieves. Omar pointed to the side of his Kia and sure enough, a nice line of holes decorated the side of the dark purple van. After they were well out of the way, they were met by, lo and behold, the old bandits of the streets! the average carjackers...four Opels flashed their headlights in the distance before Omar managed to use his experience as a Kia driver and dodge them around some side-streets, eventually ditching the car in some dump and spending the night at a friend's house.
Omar arrived in his house in Adhamiya the next day, to find that 2 brothers have already arrived before him, the older one wasn't tortured much, they only used his face as an ashtray, putting them out on his mouth, cheeks, nose and eyelids....but the youngest.....
the youngest was another story, a horror story, Abu Der'a's sledgehammer has made good memories out of his fingernails, and had transformed his knee-joints "Soaps, in Arabic" into actual soaps. His back was filled with light drill marks here and there....and whatever was left of him was filled with all sorts of mischief. He was immediately transported to Adhamiya's major hospital, al-Numan.
By noon, Omar's modest household was filled with all sorts of people - family relatives, friends and other people....soon, a group of men who Omar described as "al-Mujahideen" came smiling and tender, Omar's voice beamed with pride as he talked of the way one of them, upon wrapping up their diplomatic mission, swore to Omar that they'd make them pay back by 'hijacking a bus of Shiites.'
-----------------------------
"But, but, is that right?" I said to Omar in a low voice that came from the depths of some unrealistic pool that felt like an obligation, a laughable imitation of the corny, fake stuff they put on television.
"You're right, sure sure...I even told them so..." Omar's voice was just as dead.
NOTE: This story is happy, because nobody is killed - that's how far can a story be considered 'happy' in Iraq.
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
Even when he's dead...he kills people
Goddammit!
From DNAINDIA: MULTAN (Pakistan): A young boy who tried to imitate hanging scenes from the execution video of Iraqi dictator Saddam Hussein died in central Pakistan, police said on Monday.
Mubashar Ali, 9, hanged himself, while re-enacting Hussein's hanging with the help of elder sister, 10, after tying a rope to a ceiling fan and his neck in his home in Rahim Yar Khan district on Sunday, a local police official said.
The father of the deceased boy said that his children had been watching the video of Saddam Hussein's execution on television and attempted to imitate the hanging as other family members thought they were playing in another room.
"My wife and sister rushed to rescue Mubashar when children cried for help from the adjoining room, but he died due to hanging," Alamgir Paracha, father of Mubashar, said.
Police said the death was accidental and a case of parental negligence.
"It was an accident which happened due to carelessness of parents," district police chief Sultan Ahmad said.
Images of the fallen Iraqi dictator with a noose around his neck, surrounded by executioners in balaclavas, were repeatedly telecast by Pakistani television channels at the weekend.
Commentators and the media across Europe had expressed shock and unease Sunday at graphic television pictures showing the last moments of Hussein before his execution.
The stupidity of the governmnet has now turned Saddam into an underdog symbol of heroism, and when our country ceases to exist and the amoeba grows into nearby countries, expect the Guevara-style rebel t-shirts to sell. Although Majed came up with the idea, i call patenting!
Welcome 2007. May the next Eid brings the executions of the rest of the crew:
THE DEAD POOL
1. Abdilaziz al-Hakim
2. Muqtada al-Sadr
3. Harith al-Dhari
4. Abu Musab al-Zarqawi DEAD
5. Saddam Hussein DEAD
6. Baqir "Bayan" Jabr Solagh
7. Adnan al-Dulaymi (although i don't think he's worth much - just a fat cow full of farts, he's been put there so that I don't get accused of being sectarain.)
8. Jalal al-Din al-Sagheer
From DNAINDIA: MULTAN (Pakistan): A young boy who tried to imitate hanging scenes from the execution video of Iraqi dictator Saddam Hussein died in central Pakistan, police said on Monday.
Mubashar Ali, 9, hanged himself, while re-enacting Hussein's hanging with the help of elder sister, 10, after tying a rope to a ceiling fan and his neck in his home in Rahim Yar Khan district on Sunday, a local police official said.
The father of the deceased boy said that his children had been watching the video of Saddam Hussein's execution on television and attempted to imitate the hanging as other family members thought they were playing in another room.
"My wife and sister rushed to rescue Mubashar when children cried for help from the adjoining room, but he died due to hanging," Alamgir Paracha, father of Mubashar, said.
Police said the death was accidental and a case of parental negligence.
"It was an accident which happened due to carelessness of parents," district police chief Sultan Ahmad said.
Images of the fallen Iraqi dictator with a noose around his neck, surrounded by executioners in balaclavas, were repeatedly telecast by Pakistani television channels at the weekend.
Commentators and the media across Europe had expressed shock and unease Sunday at graphic television pictures showing the last moments of Hussein before his execution.
The stupidity of the governmnet has now turned Saddam into an underdog symbol of heroism, and when our country ceases to exist and the amoeba grows into nearby countries, expect the Guevara-style rebel t-shirts to sell. Although Majed came up with the idea, i call patenting!
Welcome 2007. May the next Eid brings the executions of the rest of the crew:
THE DEAD POOL
1. Abdilaziz al-Hakim
2. Muqtada al-Sadr
3. Harith al-Dhari
4. Abu Musab al-Zarqawi DEAD
5. Saddam Hussein DEAD
6. Baqir "Bayan" Jabr Solagh
7. Adnan al-Dulaymi (although i don't think he's worth much - just a fat cow full of farts, he's been put there so that I don't get accused of being sectarain.)
8. Jalal al-Din al-Sagheer
Saturday, December 30, 2006
Mixed Emotions
On the end of my last post, I wrote: "and I can't wait to see what happens next, Tomorrow is the first day of the rest of my life"
and what a day!
The storm gathered by yesterday's evening...and by the time it was certain...I was too tired and went to sleep, I went to sleep at 2 AM...thinking that sometimes during my sleep, the most famous Iraqi of the 20th century will be executed...
I woke up at 9, mumbled Happy-eids to parents, then headed straight to the TV...and I recieved the images...the first thing that struck me was how unbelievable this was...Saddam was a part of my everyday patterns as a human being, I woke up, ate, drank, shat, slept, and Saddam is the undefeatable tyrant that never dies. It was hard, hard, hard to know that Saddam is no more, he was arrested, humilitaed and sentenced to death and I didn't feel much - but to know that he is gone is very strange - He was a given fact of life! and now he's dead...This doesn't happen in the world that I normally inhibit...
I also must say that from all the people that ruled Iraq at any given time, I do not hate any of them as much as I hate Saddam Hussein - through his stubborn Great Leader complex he has made us suffer so much, and pretty much a lot of the blame for the distingeration of Iraq as a fabric can be laid squarely on his shoulders, but while I was seeing these images, I had to keep reminding myself how much I hated Saddam Hussein, because they were flat-out disgusting. The problem of our politicians is that they always have to ruin the good stuff with the bad stuff, Mowafaq al-Rubay'ie, the national security advisor, said that Saddam looked very weak and pathetic while he was taking his final steps, but in the images I watched he looked just as brave, magnificent and charismatic as ever, despite his great evils, I must say that Saddam Hussein is the bravest guy that ever ruled Iraq. The problem is that Saddam is an extremely charismatic figure, he can drive many people to inspiration and is simply the most bravest man of all his opponents, Muwafaq, al-Maliki, al-Jaafari and al-Hakim wouldn't stand for two seconds alone with this guy, they all ran weeping to Americans...It's just, unfair, that they should be sing-songing like this while not only are they as cruel as he, but they are nowhere as brave or influential as him.
While I think that Saddam deserves a thousand hangings, I completely disapprove of the way they have handled this - they chose a very bad timing for it, the holy Eid is a day of joy, of happiness, of forgiveness, people do not want to start their day by watching a man insulted a thousand times with a rope at his neck, true, I completely understand the fact that there are hundreds of families who are glad to see Saddam suffer and die like their sons and families did, but they are not all Iraqis, and they are not all people, and true, maybe Shiites would feel there might be a religious conrguence for this timing as it is harmonious with the vengeful nature of Shiite Islam, as hatred of tyranny and cruel avengance are major pillars in their sect, but with the confusion of Iraqis everywhere and growing tensions, such delicate matters should not be handled as bluntly as they were when all the other people watch these images accompanied by the whole lot of insults and curses, on such a holy peaceful occasion, the feeling they give you is one of complete injustice and being cruller than the man they are hanging.
The joy that could have been to see Saddam executed was lost in the bad conditions to which Iraq is heading, from a strategic point of view, Saddam's killing could go a long way in dispiriting Baathists, as Baath is largely a personality cult - it is without doubt a significant hit to morale, but it still remains unknown how far could this psychologically curb them.
As for our naive Arab brothers here and Jordan, they completely condemned and rejected the sentence, they lost a 'great Arab leader who was the only one with balls' - yeah, Saddam did stand up, but look at the price we paid for that little hypocrisy of his.
I am sure many Iraqis have been relieved at the execution, and they have every right to, but it's a shame that this sight has saddened many others by the stupid way it was handled.
I don't know of a precise word for my feelings - Little if at all joy, unbelieving numbness and extreme disappointment. I've always wanted Saddam to be killed, but the guy had a way of making you feel sorry for him.
UPDATES: Here is the complete Saddam execution video that was partly aired on al-Jazzeera network from Kitabat.com, it's shot using a mobile phone by one of the guards, and it shows how his neck was broken in the end, the guard who shot it stands at the western side of the room - two other version have resurfaced, the other is from the right side of the room and was broadcast at Al-Sharqiya TV (bad audio quality though), while the other displayed photos of Saddam after he was killed and was aired on Ibrahim al-Jaafari's Beladi TV.
also, a fellow Shiite blogger has described this execution in the perfect words, which are the words of Imam Ali himself during the Great Civil War:
"Kalimat Haqq Yuradu Biha Batil"
"A word of right that is used for an implicit wrong."
and what a day!
The storm gathered by yesterday's evening...and by the time it was certain...I was too tired and went to sleep, I went to sleep at 2 AM...thinking that sometimes during my sleep, the most famous Iraqi of the 20th century will be executed...
I woke up at 9, mumbled Happy-eids to parents, then headed straight to the TV...and I recieved the images...the first thing that struck me was how unbelievable this was...Saddam was a part of my everyday patterns as a human being, I woke up, ate, drank, shat, slept, and Saddam is the undefeatable tyrant that never dies. It was hard, hard, hard to know that Saddam is no more, he was arrested, humilitaed and sentenced to death and I didn't feel much - but to know that he is gone is very strange - He was a given fact of life! and now he's dead...This doesn't happen in the world that I normally inhibit...
I also must say that from all the people that ruled Iraq at any given time, I do not hate any of them as much as I hate Saddam Hussein - through his stubborn Great Leader complex he has made us suffer so much, and pretty much a lot of the blame for the distingeration of Iraq as a fabric can be laid squarely on his shoulders, but while I was seeing these images, I had to keep reminding myself how much I hated Saddam Hussein, because they were flat-out disgusting. The problem of our politicians is that they always have to ruin the good stuff with the bad stuff, Mowafaq al-Rubay'ie, the national security advisor, said that Saddam looked very weak and pathetic while he was taking his final steps, but in the images I watched he looked just as brave, magnificent and charismatic as ever, despite his great evils, I must say that Saddam Hussein is the bravest guy that ever ruled Iraq. The problem is that Saddam is an extremely charismatic figure, he can drive many people to inspiration and is simply the most bravest man of all his opponents, Muwafaq, al-Maliki, al-Jaafari and al-Hakim wouldn't stand for two seconds alone with this guy, they all ran weeping to Americans...It's just, unfair, that they should be sing-songing like this while not only are they as cruel as he, but they are nowhere as brave or influential as him.
While I think that Saddam deserves a thousand hangings, I completely disapprove of the way they have handled this - they chose a very bad timing for it, the holy Eid is a day of joy, of happiness, of forgiveness, people do not want to start their day by watching a man insulted a thousand times with a rope at his neck, true, I completely understand the fact that there are hundreds of families who are glad to see Saddam suffer and die like their sons and families did, but they are not all Iraqis, and they are not all people, and true, maybe Shiites would feel there might be a religious conrguence for this timing as it is harmonious with the vengeful nature of Shiite Islam, as hatred of tyranny and cruel avengance are major pillars in their sect, but with the confusion of Iraqis everywhere and growing tensions, such delicate matters should not be handled as bluntly as they were when all the other people watch these images accompanied by the whole lot of insults and curses, on such a holy peaceful occasion, the feeling they give you is one of complete injustice and being cruller than the man they are hanging.
The joy that could have been to see Saddam executed was lost in the bad conditions to which Iraq is heading, from a strategic point of view, Saddam's killing could go a long way in dispiriting Baathists, as Baath is largely a personality cult - it is without doubt a significant hit to morale, but it still remains unknown how far could this psychologically curb them.
As for our naive Arab brothers here and Jordan, they completely condemned and rejected the sentence, they lost a 'great Arab leader who was the only one with balls' - yeah, Saddam did stand up, but look at the price we paid for that little hypocrisy of his.
I am sure many Iraqis have been relieved at the execution, and they have every right to, but it's a shame that this sight has saddened many others by the stupid way it was handled.
I don't know of a precise word for my feelings - Little if at all joy, unbelieving numbness and extreme disappointment. I've always wanted Saddam to be killed, but the guy had a way of making you feel sorry for him.
UPDATES: Here is the complete Saddam execution video that was partly aired on al-Jazzeera network from Kitabat.com, it's shot using a mobile phone by one of the guards, and it shows how his neck was broken in the end, the guard who shot it stands at the western side of the room - two other version have resurfaced, the other is from the right side of the room and was broadcast at Al-Sharqiya TV (bad audio quality though), while the other displayed photos of Saddam after he was killed and was aired on Ibrahim al-Jaafari's Beladi TV.
also, a fellow Shiite blogger has described this execution in the perfect words, which are the words of Imam Ali himself during the Great Civil War:
"Kalimat Haqq Yuradu Biha Batil"
"A word of right that is used for an implicit wrong."
Friday, December 29, 2006
The End Of Konfusion: A Year In Review
And hereby ends another year of my life, as I am writing these words I am exactly 21 years, 3 months and 3 days old. Looking back now, I can quite confidently declare that this year was one of the most pivotal years of my entire life. A year filled with tears of joy and wails of lament, of surging pure love and utter despair and disappointment, a year that both contains both the best and worst days of my life, 356 days some of which I cherish and some I wish I never lived.
Outside, the year started as usual, badly. Fuel prices were just going to the devil and the Badr brigade was still running around as it pleases, despite with more outcries than before. Little did Iraqis know that they're in new worlds of pain and suffering, starting from the explosion of the Samarra golden dome in February 22, 2006 - in a massacre that continues to this date and only grows bloodier and more gruesome by each passing minute.
A new government was elected, the general feeling was a sick greenish one at the bottom of your stomach, many hands contained purpled fingers, but many others contained red ones. al-Jaafari found it kinda difficult that a bunch of other no-gooders will harrumph him outside his comfy chair, which was kinda getting more and more defined by his assprint - so he decided to stick as much as he can to it, before Sistani got fed up of reading these weird books in his bedroom and decided to sniff the air outside one day - his replacement, grumpy aftershave ad leftover material Nuri Kamil Abu Jowad Abu Israa Abu al Mahasain al-Maliki, proved as much ho-hokum as his predecessor, Dr. Ibrahim Abu Ahmed al-Ushayqar al-Ja'afari.
The year also witnessed other events which didn't change much in Iraq: The death of Abu Musa'ab al-Zarqawi, the end of Saddam's first trial with a death sentence, et voila. It is still a long way to go, in my opinion.
Personally, this year is perhaps the most important one in my life, aside from the year that I was born.
It started very lukewarm, until the dome explosion, afterwards, I began to gather an interest in the religious and historical sides of Islam, driven by an inherent curiosity regarding the Sunni-Shiite struggle, I gulped book after book in search of a meaning, and this have significantly reshaped my interests. I became a lot more politically motivated than before as a result of my blogging experiences with the New York Times and interaction with other fellow bloggers. In these aspects of my life, maybe a change that is bigger awaits me in the future, I feel like I want to do something, but I still do not know what that is yet.
This year contains the best day of my life: The Graduation Day, I have never felt such an exaltness and looseness in my entire life, I danced like crazy until i got too tired to stand up - maybe it's also because i felt very cool that day - Our costume was a Mexican Mariaachi, I was the only one with the long hair wig and the fake big moustaches, I was the talk of the town! I also wrote a song for the march and had the guys sing it, I felt very happy that day.
That day was June 5, 2006, six days later was the worst day of my entire life, my four friends were killed - for most people, graduation is a big thing, for me it didn't register much, because its joy was swiftly encompassed by the great sorrow that swallowed it - this event has changed my incredibly - I became very pessimistic towards Iraq's future and have now entirely different thoughts about my identity, before this year I used to think of myself as an:
1. Iraqi first, and most importantly
2. Arab second.
3. Muslim thirdly, not as important as the first two.
But today, I am:
1. Muslim first.
2. Arab second.
and I don't want to be an Iraqi, I didn't ask for being one in the first place.
The longhand explanation requires much discussions for which this year-in-review has no.
For me, "Iraqi" now is just a tag I am identified with, cuz of my dialect, the place I was born, etc- as for the emotions it conveys, it don't register here anymore. and I wonder if it ever did..actually. I am not even sad as I write this, I just want to say this out and loud for all to hear.
Let me detach myself and look at what I just wrote, you see how I have changed upside down, this is a moderate, kinda rational kid becoming more observant of his religion because of the violence, imagine what it does to those who have no education and mostly follow their emotions, and there are many channels by which extremism abounds....
Romantically, I fell in love for the second time in my entire life, and have been incredibly hurt by the experience, it was a scorching one-sided affair that ended in a very ugly way. As a rebound, I vowed never to play with people's feelings again and have finally broken up for good with my long-time ex-girlfriend (see how complex this was?)...Amazingly, I didn't sever all my ties with her yet!!!!
But I must say that romantically this year ends very happily, without giving much details away. ;)
Musically, I started actively jamming with a few chums in a no-particular-place-to-go heavy metal band, Hamballah. The project was intended to be a mini-gig at my graduation party, however, due to time constraints and intra-band friction (I love that phrase, it's like we're a real band!) the project fell apart. They did play behind my back, and the result was so cringe-inducing that it made me give up on my dream of being in a band, also, after recording a few things, I decided that I didn't have what it takes to become a vocalist/guitarist, mostly because my voice isn't up to shape - this, combined with me getting kinda bored with my playlist, made my musical interest decline considerably. Guitar is now a 3rd-level hobby, my new hobbies include blogging, history and most importantly filmmaking - I have finished my grand video project later last year, and have uploaded two short films of them at YouTube, I wanted to keep this a secret until I have uploaded other videos there, but I guess it's nice as a Christmas surprise, here.
This year also is the year I finally graduated from college, I wished to continue studying two more years in my M.Sc. studies, but the security condition has been especially unbearable for my grandparents, who decided to flee this year - also, the death of my two bestfriends left little desire for me to see the university anymore, it wasn't much worth staying around for anyway: Most of the teachers have left and the remaining close friends of mine have all left too. I wanted to continue studying because I was afraid of stepping into the real-life really, but now I have been flung into it, and I still have many things to learn. I also got me a job earlier at the beginning of this year, while it was a temp job that's not much of an experience, it's keeping me hanging around.
As you can see, this year has changed me remarkably, and it deserves the title of being the best year of my life...Most importantly, I am no longer Konfused about myself...In between the hurt of losing precious ones, being rejected, feeling love again, changing my home, I now feel like I have a purpose in life, It's not clear yet...but it's better than the earlier konfusion that was an integral part of me - lost between contradictory impulses such as girls, wanting to look cool, music, religion, family frictions.... I don't know if I should rename the blog or not, I mean - I'm still a Kid, but "Iraqi" and "Konfused" are feeling alien to me today. I feel like I am wiser and have learnt much, maybe not much - but it's a start on the journey.
It couldn't be said enough, tomorrow is the first day of the rest of my life.
Outside, the year started as usual, badly. Fuel prices were just going to the devil and the Badr brigade was still running around as it pleases, despite with more outcries than before. Little did Iraqis know that they're in new worlds of pain and suffering, starting from the explosion of the Samarra golden dome in February 22, 2006 - in a massacre that continues to this date and only grows bloodier and more gruesome by each passing minute.
A new government was elected, the general feeling was a sick greenish one at the bottom of your stomach, many hands contained purpled fingers, but many others contained red ones. al-Jaafari found it kinda difficult that a bunch of other no-gooders will harrumph him outside his comfy chair, which was kinda getting more and more defined by his assprint - so he decided to stick as much as he can to it, before Sistani got fed up of reading these weird books in his bedroom and decided to sniff the air outside one day - his replacement, grumpy aftershave ad leftover material Nuri Kamil Abu Jowad Abu Israa Abu al Mahasain al-Maliki, proved as much ho-hokum as his predecessor, Dr. Ibrahim Abu Ahmed al-Ushayqar al-Ja'afari.
The year also witnessed other events which didn't change much in Iraq: The death of Abu Musa'ab al-Zarqawi, the end of Saddam's first trial with a death sentence, et voila. It is still a long way to go, in my opinion.
Personally, this year is perhaps the most important one in my life, aside from the year that I was born.
It started very lukewarm, until the dome explosion, afterwards, I began to gather an interest in the religious and historical sides of Islam, driven by an inherent curiosity regarding the Sunni-Shiite struggle, I gulped book after book in search of a meaning, and this have significantly reshaped my interests. I became a lot more politically motivated than before as a result of my blogging experiences with the New York Times and interaction with other fellow bloggers. In these aspects of my life, maybe a change that is bigger awaits me in the future, I feel like I want to do something, but I still do not know what that is yet.
This year contains the best day of my life: The Graduation Day, I have never felt such an exaltness and looseness in my entire life, I danced like crazy until i got too tired to stand up - maybe it's also because i felt very cool that day - Our costume was a Mexican Mariaachi, I was the only one with the long hair wig and the fake big moustaches, I was the talk of the town! I also wrote a song for the march and had the guys sing it, I felt very happy that day.
That day was June 5, 2006, six days later was the worst day of my entire life, my four friends were killed - for most people, graduation is a big thing, for me it didn't register much, because its joy was swiftly encompassed by the great sorrow that swallowed it - this event has changed my incredibly - I became very pessimistic towards Iraq's future and have now entirely different thoughts about my identity, before this year I used to think of myself as an:
1. Iraqi first, and most importantly
2. Arab second.
3. Muslim thirdly, not as important as the first two.
But today, I am:
1. Muslim first.
2. Arab second.
and I don't want to be an Iraqi, I didn't ask for being one in the first place.
The longhand explanation requires much discussions for which this year-in-review has no.
For me, "Iraqi" now is just a tag I am identified with, cuz of my dialect, the place I was born, etc- as for the emotions it conveys, it don't register here anymore. and I wonder if it ever did..actually. I am not even sad as I write this, I just want to say this out and loud for all to hear.
Let me detach myself and look at what I just wrote, you see how I have changed upside down, this is a moderate, kinda rational kid becoming more observant of his religion because of the violence, imagine what it does to those who have no education and mostly follow their emotions, and there are many channels by which extremism abounds....
Romantically, I fell in love for the second time in my entire life, and have been incredibly hurt by the experience, it was a scorching one-sided affair that ended in a very ugly way. As a rebound, I vowed never to play with people's feelings again and have finally broken up for good with my long-time ex-girlfriend (see how complex this was?)...Amazingly, I didn't sever all my ties with her yet!!!!
But I must say that romantically this year ends very happily, without giving much details away. ;)
Musically, I started actively jamming with a few chums in a no-particular-place-to-go heavy metal band, Hamballah. The project was intended to be a mini-gig at my graduation party, however, due to time constraints and intra-band friction (I love that phrase, it's like we're a real band!) the project fell apart. They did play behind my back, and the result was so cringe-inducing that it made me give up on my dream of being in a band, also, after recording a few things, I decided that I didn't have what it takes to become a vocalist/guitarist, mostly because my voice isn't up to shape - this, combined with me getting kinda bored with my playlist, made my musical interest decline considerably. Guitar is now a 3rd-level hobby, my new hobbies include blogging, history and most importantly filmmaking - I have finished my grand video project later last year, and have uploaded two short films of them at YouTube, I wanted to keep this a secret until I have uploaded other videos there, but I guess it's nice as a Christmas surprise, here.
This year also is the year I finally graduated from college, I wished to continue studying two more years in my M.Sc. studies, but the security condition has been especially unbearable for my grandparents, who decided to flee this year - also, the death of my two bestfriends left little desire for me to see the university anymore, it wasn't much worth staying around for anyway: Most of the teachers have left and the remaining close friends of mine have all left too. I wanted to continue studying because I was afraid of stepping into the real-life really, but now I have been flung into it, and I still have many things to learn. I also got me a job earlier at the beginning of this year, while it was a temp job that's not much of an experience, it's keeping me hanging around.
As you can see, this year has changed me remarkably, and it deserves the title of being the best year of my life...Most importantly, I am no longer Konfused about myself...In between the hurt of losing precious ones, being rejected, feeling love again, changing my home, I now feel like I have a purpose in life, It's not clear yet...but it's better than the earlier konfusion that was an integral part of me - lost between contradictory impulses such as girls, wanting to look cool, music, religion, family frictions.... I don't know if I should rename the blog or not, I mean - I'm still a Kid, but "Iraqi" and "Konfused" are feeling alien to me today. I feel like I am wiser and have learnt much, maybe not much - but it's a start on the journey.
It couldn't be said enough, tomorrow is the first day of the rest of my life.
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
أوديسة عمر
الأوديسة: هي مغامرة اسطورية كتبها شاعر يوناني قديم تروي مغامرات اوديسيوس في العالم القديم حيث يلتقي بشخصيات عجيبة و وحوش خرافية و كلها مليئة بعنصر الأسطورة و الغرابة.
و عمر: هو اسم عربي عادة يربط بالخليفة الثاني للرسول عمر بن الخطاب الذي تم في عهده فتح العراق و الشام. و هو احد أبرز الشخصيات في التاريخ الإسلامي.
اما أوديسة عمر, فهي تلك الملحمة الغريبة التي حدثت في شوارع مدينتنا بغداد المملة بظاهرها, المرعبة بباطنها و قد القاها على مسامعنا سائق الكية و السمكري سابقا عمر في يوم صيف قائض امام بيتهم في منطقة الأعظمية و نحن ندخن السكائر و انا انظر اليه غير مصدق الفضائع التي تسقط من فيه واحدة تلو الأخرى و هو يتلوها علي بسليقته المتساهلة المبتسمة.
طكلك جكارة و انتجي....و اسمع زين ترى القصة طويلة...و لو ما اني ادري ابو حفصة خوش وليد و شفت اخوه شون طلع و لاعظمة بمكانهه جان مصدكت و لا حجاية....
في باديء الأمر دعني اعطيك نبذة عن عمر هذا, هو فتى طويل القامة اسمر اللون ذو ملامح شعبية قحة, و قد عرفته منذ سنين طويلة حيث تربطني به علاقة قرابة بعيدة الا ان "الفتى الحائر" كما يحلو له ان يكنى ها هنا لم يعرفه الا لسنة واحدة حيث اصبح عمر سائق الكيا التي تقله الى الجامعة في هذه السنة الأخيرة....و عمر فتى شارعي بامتياز فقد ترك الدراسة منذ الصف الرابع الاعدادي و اشتغل "خلفة" لانابيب المياه, و قد فتح الله عليه ببعض اموره فتوفر لديه مبلغ من المال اشترى به هذه السيارة...و رغم كونه شديد اللسان وكثير السباب الا انه فتى طيب القلب و سهل المعشر ...يداري تلك الطيبة بالغلاف الخشن الذي اكتسبه بين مصلحي البواري و سواق الكيات...الا ان لعمر خصلة مذمومة و بالأخص في زماننا هذا انه ياخذ "الميانة" بسهولة مع اصدقاءه...واذكر ذات مرة انه كان يمزح مع اصدقائة سواق الكيات فبصق على صورة الإمام الخميني التي كانت معلقة في سلسلة ميدالية صديقه "محمد" سائق الخط هو الأخر بالاضافة الى كونه عضوا في تنظيم المهدي (عج)...و عمر يعلم ذلك و اذكر انني عنفته بشدة لمثل ذاك الا انه ضحك في وجهي بعدم
اكتراثه المتجاهل كانه طفل كبير
... و عمر تربطه علاقة صداقة شديدة بجميع افراد خطه عكس العديد من السواق الأخرين, و اذكر مرة كنت فيها معه في السيارة حيث قرر الولد من الخط الذهاب صباحا من السادسة لتناول الكبة في مطعم حياوي الشهير في الكم...و قد تأخرالفتى الحائر في النوم كعادته و جعلنا ننتظر ربع ساعة امام منزله قبل ان يخرج منكوش الشعر و يصرفنا بحركة بسيطة اختصرت انتظارنا الصبور عليه...و قد اثارت تلك الحركة سخطنا و بيتنا له الانتقام في ظهر ذلك اليوم اثناء الرجوع من الكلية...حيث تم الاتفاق على لحظة مناسبة اركن فيها عمر الكية في شارع عمربن عبد العزيز و نزلنا من الكية حيث تمت عملية سحب الفتى الحائر من المقعد الأمامي حيث كان يجلس متبجحا بقصة فخارية ما...و قد هددنا بالصراخ ان جررناه قسرة وقد حصل هذا فعلا في احدى اخطر شوارع بغداد على الأطلاق مما حدا بعض المارة بالنظر فزعين و الاسراع بعيدا...و سرعان ما قدناه الى الملاذ الأمن في عمق السيارة حيث انهلنا عليه ضربا في مخلمة امتعتنا جميعا ...حيث وجد نفسه بلا بنطال في نهايتها....و قد اخبرني عمر ان هذا المنوال قد تحول الى طقس خاص من طقوس الكية حيث حالما يبادر احدهم بازعاج احدهم يتحمس الجميع الى تكرار العلقة التي اشدت وطأتها يوما بعد يوم حيث كانت فوق الملابس اولا ثم استدعت خلع البنطال ثانيا ثم ما وراء البنطال...و لله الحمد فقد توقفت هذه اللعبة عند استعمال البيض و الفلفل الحار ....
و في صباح احد الأيام في اواخر شهر حزيران اتصلت بموبايل عمر حيث كنت اريده ان ينقلني في شغل من اشغالي..
"الو عمر"
"ها هلو عمار شونك"
"ها حبيبي تجي عليه هسه"
"والله اكلك...ترى اني ما اكدر هسه والله...اهلي انخطفوا.."
"شنو؟!؟!؟"
"عود بعدين احجيلك اليوم اجيك العصر اوكي"
"أوكي"
كان كلامه غير مطمئن و لكني شككت في هدوءه و صفاءه حين استقبلني...و املت ان يكون الأمر قد انتهى...أتصلت به في وقت العصر الا انه كان غير موجود...ثم اتصلت به مرة اخرى في الليل و قابلني بنفس ايجابيته و هدوءه و قال لي ان كل شيء على ما يرام و الحمدلله و سيمر علي غدا لكي يخبرني بالذي جرى بحذافيره.
وجاءت كيه عمر الداكنة اللون في صباح اليوم التالي و هي تشق عباب الشارع المنجمد عن ناسه ببطء شديد...و قد كان منظرها و هي تأتي يبعث في محياي دائما بالغبطة و الفرح سابقا...الا انها اليوم اصبحت رمز شقاء و حامل ذكريات لنا ان ننساها...حيث ان راكبيها قد اصابتهم الفواجع تلو الفواجع في الشهرين التي خلت...و اولهم كان عمرا...و اذ رايته ينزل من السيارة و قد انبرى بابتسامه مرصعة باسنانه الصفراء و هو يناديني " ها ولك كواد" لم اتمالك ان اطفو انا الأخر عن تاملاتي و استقبله بنفس روح الأمس القديم......و تنفست الصعداء اخيرا حيث انني اذكر كيف لاقيت ابا حفصة قبل شهرين فقط ابان مقتل ابن عمه محمدا برصاص سيطرة في الدورة..و قد كانو ينوون النيل من السائق الذي كان يجلس بجانبه محمدا لان اسمه و لا عجب, عمرا.
... و عمر تربطه علاقة صداقة شديدة بجميع افراد خطه عكس العديد من السواق الأخرين, و اذكر مرة كنت فيها معه في السيارة حيث قرر الولد من الخط الذهاب صباحا من السادسة لتناول الكبة في مطعم حياوي الشهير في الكم...و قد تأخرالفتى الحائر في النوم كعادته و جعلنا ننتظر ربع ساعة امام منزله قبل ان يخرج منكوش الشعر و يصرفنا بحركة بسيطة اختصرت انتظارنا الصبور عليه...و قد اثارت تلك الحركة سخطنا و بيتنا له الانتقام في ظهر ذلك اليوم اثناء الرجوع من الكلية...حيث تم الاتفاق على لحظة مناسبة اركن فيها عمر الكية في شارع عمربن عبد العزيز و نزلنا من الكية حيث تمت عملية سحب الفتى الحائر من المقعد الأمامي حيث كان يجلس متبجحا بقصة فخارية ما...و قد هددنا بالصراخ ان جررناه قسرة وقد حصل هذا فعلا في احدى اخطر شوارع بغداد على الأطلاق مما حدا بعض المارة بالنظر فزعين و الاسراع بعيدا...و سرعان ما قدناه الى الملاذ الأمن في عمق السيارة حيث انهلنا عليه ضربا في مخلمة امتعتنا جميعا ...حيث وجد نفسه بلا بنطال في نهايتها....و قد اخبرني عمر ان هذا المنوال قد تحول الى طقس خاص من طقوس الكية حيث حالما يبادر احدهم بازعاج احدهم يتحمس الجميع الى تكرار العلقة التي اشدت وطأتها يوما بعد يوم حيث كانت فوق الملابس اولا ثم استدعت خلع البنطال ثانيا ثم ما وراء البنطال...و لله الحمد فقد توقفت هذه اللعبة عند استعمال البيض و الفلفل الحار ....
و في صباح احد الأيام في اواخر شهر حزيران اتصلت بموبايل عمر حيث كنت اريده ان ينقلني في شغل من اشغالي..
"الو عمر"
"ها هلو عمار شونك"
"ها حبيبي تجي عليه هسه"
"والله اكلك...ترى اني ما اكدر هسه والله...اهلي انخطفوا.."
"شنو؟!؟!؟"
"عود بعدين احجيلك اليوم اجيك العصر اوكي"
"أوكي"
كان كلامه غير مطمئن و لكني شككت في هدوءه و صفاءه حين استقبلني...و املت ان يكون الأمر قد انتهى...أتصلت به في وقت العصر الا انه كان غير موجود...ثم اتصلت به مرة اخرى في الليل و قابلني بنفس ايجابيته و هدوءه و قال لي ان كل شيء على ما يرام و الحمدلله و سيمر علي غدا لكي يخبرني بالذي جرى بحذافيره.
وجاءت كيه عمر الداكنة اللون في صباح اليوم التالي و هي تشق عباب الشارع المنجمد عن ناسه ببطء شديد...و قد كان منظرها و هي تأتي يبعث في محياي دائما بالغبطة و الفرح سابقا...الا انها اليوم اصبحت رمز شقاء و حامل ذكريات لنا ان ننساها...حيث ان راكبيها قد اصابتهم الفواجع تلو الفواجع في الشهرين التي خلت...و اولهم كان عمرا...و اذ رايته ينزل من السيارة و قد انبرى بابتسامه مرصعة باسنانه الصفراء و هو يناديني " ها ولك كواد" لم اتمالك ان اطفو انا الأخر عن تاملاتي و استقبله بنفس روح الأمس القديم......و تنفست الصعداء اخيرا حيث انني اذكر كيف لاقيت ابا حفصة قبل شهرين فقط ابان مقتل ابن عمه محمدا برصاص سيطرة في الدورة..و قد كانو ينوون النيل من السائق الذي كان يجلس بجانبه محمدا لان اسمه و لا عجب, عمرا.
و الى غير عمر, فقد فقد احد ركاب الخط امه قبل شهر بحادثة طبيعية لله الحمد (و يالسخرية الحمد, فها نحن نحمد الله على اي موت طبيعي)و لم يمض سوى اسبوعين حين خسر الفتي الحائر اربعة من اصدقائة بالانفجار الذي وقع في منطقة الكرادة...
بعد افتتاحيات السلام و الكلام...اشعلت لعمر و لي سيكارتين و اتخذ عمر وضع الراوي فاعتدل في وقفته وهو ينحني قليللا نحو سيارته...و بعد وقفة وجيزة استطرد يقول:
اخذ امي و اخوتي و اخواتي سيارة تكسي من منطقة الأعظمية حيث كانو ينوون زيارة اقاربنا في منطقة المشتل, و كان اخوتي اثنان احدهما علاء ( مواليد 87 (و الأخر حازم (90) و يظهر ان السائق كان احد الكائنات الباطنية التي تتكاثر اليوم بسرعة البكتريا...اي انه بجلف القول "علاسا" و هنا لم يذكر عمر ان كان هناك احد من اخوته قد صرح بتصريح لم يعجب رأي السائق او انه قرر ان يعلسهم ليطمئن قلبه حيث ان اسمائهم ليست طائفية على حد علمي (و هي طبعا ليست الأسماء التي طبعتها اعلاه) و لكن لا أدري فقد يكون اسم والدته او اخته كذلك...و في النهاية فان العائلة ما ان استقرت في بيت الأقارب حتى انهمر على الباب سيارتين من نوع بك أب مملوءة بعناصر جيش المهدي اقتحمت البيت و اخذت الغلامين و ذهبت, وكان عمر في كل هذا مشغولا مع اصدقائة في الكم حين تلقى اتصالا من امه و هي تبكي و تولول, و ما ان فهم عمر ما يجري حتى رجع الى البيت و اخذ صديقا شيعيا له منذ ايام الصغر اسمه سالم و توجه الى الرئاسية كما يطلق عليها الان...و ذلك حوالي الساعة العاشرة ليلا و هو بعد منع التجول طبعا الا انهم كانو يشرحون الموقف للسيطرات فيدعوهم يمرون, و بعد فترة وجيزة فقد عمر السيطرة على نفسه فتولى سالم القيادة حتى وصلوا الى المنطقة فلم يجدوا احدا في الشارع و ظلوا يحومون على وجوههم حتى التقوا برجل سكران اسمه لا اذكره فسالوه عن موقع مكتب السيد هل يعرفه فاجابهم بثقة الرجل السكير الذاهب عقله "أي اعرفه طبعا" فاخذوه معهم و دلهم على المكتب, و وجدوا المكتب مغلقا و لا حركة تنبر منه فاصاب عمر الجنون ها هنا و اخذ يسب كل الشيعة على وجه الأرض و لم تمض فترة وجيزة الا و اتت مواكب البيك اب تزفه حيث حملو الثلاثة معا ضربا بالكيبلات و ادخلوهم الى مكتب السيد, و قال عمر انهم لم يضربوه و لا سالما بقدر ما ضربوا الرجل السكير الذي اشبعوه ضربا و يبدو ان جيش المهدي له عداوة مع كل مشروب روحي حتى ان عمر وصفه ب"درعنا" من كثرة ما كان يتلقى من الكفخ و الكيبلات و ثم فصل الاثنان مع استمرار ضرب السكير بقسوة, وجاء المحققون ليعرفوا ما شان عمر فقالو له ما اسمك فقال عمر فسالوه سؤال الجمهور انت سني ام شيعي فقال شيعي فضربه و قال لا تكذب, فضل يلح ثم بعد فترة من الضرب و التهديد اعترف و اخبرهم بكل شيء, واخبره انه ابن عم لسالم حيث ان سالما و عمرا يحملان اسما ثلاثيا متقاربا...و بعد فترة جمع الاثنان معا ثم جاء "القاضي الشرعي" وهو السيد ذو العمامة و يقول عمر انهم كانو يجلونه و يعاملونه باحترام...سال السيد عمر عن اسمه و حين اجابه و اخبره بقصته قال السيد بالحرف الواحد: "هذوله ارهابيين...روحو كتلوهم عالسدة."
****
و في هذه الاثناء
المحقق: انت سلفي...مو؟
حازم : لا
المحقق: تحب علي ؟
حازم: اي
المحقق : سب عمر
حازم : خره بعمر
المحقق: هسه كول انت ويا منو
حازم: مو ويا احد
المحقق: زين معلميك المجاهدين متحجي
هنا يهوي المحقق بمطرقة حديدية على اصابع الفتى ذو الثلاثة عشرة عاما فتتهشم اظافره و تدخل في لحمه في نسيج من الدم و اللحم و الصراخ المعذب...و قد علم حازم المعصوب الأعين اسم المحقق حيث سمع من يناديه بالأسم, اسم ساسمعه كثيرا و كثيرا في الأيام القليلة التالية.
!!!!!!ابو درع
******
اركب منفذ الحكم عمر و سالم في كية عمر ذاتها ثم صعد هو و ادار المحرك, وضع شريطا من الاشرطة الموجودة فتصاعد صوت حسام الرسام يلعلع فاطفأة بسرعة و هو غاضب ثم قال: تسمع حسام مو, اليوم اسمعك حسام عالكتلوك حبيبي
و جلس الاثنان بصمت رهيب و قد كان عمر قد غاص في مرحلة الياس و الاستعداد للموت اما سالم فقد كان احسن حالا و كان يحاول ان يسال الرجل بين الحين والأخر
"سيد وين ماخذنا"
للسدة عيني
"سيد بعد شوكت نوصل"
مبقى شي
.....
"سيد انت راح تكتلنا"
........
و لم يجب سيد, وها هنا فقد عمر اخر ما بقي لديه من امل بالحياة و اخذ يتشاهد بسرعة و استرسال و قال لي انه كان يريد ان يخبر أمه على الأقل و يسلم عليها قبل ان يذهب و كان كل تفكيره محصورا في هذه النقطة في الدقائق القليلة التي بقيت في حياته.
وصلت الكية للمكان و انزل السيد الجميع
سحب السيد اقسام المسدس...ثم رن موبايله فجأة...سمع عمر رجلا اسمه عمار يقول للسيد ان يحقق مع الاثنين و لكن ان لا يقتلهما...
وهنا يقول عمر ان ابا سالم قد كانت له معارف وقد وصل بالتلفونات الى الشخص المناسب في اللحظة الحاسمة و قبل فوات الاوان
سبحان الله و لا اله الا الله...خره بعرضك ابو حفصة شنو امك من داعيتلك...و بعد العديد من التنقلات بين مكان الى مكان ثم وضعهم في بيكب اب مليء بالجنود الذين عاملوهم بازدراء الا واحدا حن عليهم و جلس معهم...ثم تم وضعهم في سجن "مبرد" و كان معهم ايضا طوال هذه الفترة السكير الذي تم وضعه في الحمام لسبب ما, و بعد تحقيقات اخرى دخل رجل و قال له :
"عموري حبيبي احنا نعتذر و ان شاء الله ماكو شي "
شتعتذر بعد هوه انت بقيت شي؟!؟ و سال عمر عن اخوته فاجابه انهم احياء و بخير و هم في مدينة الصدر, وهنا تنفس عمر الصعداء اخيرا و استعاد توازنه و اتصل بوالدته و طمانها عن الجميع, و في حوالي الساعة الثالثة صباحا افرج عن الاثنين ليعودوا امام مكتب الشهيد الصدر كما كانوا اول مرة
***
ركب عمر و سالم السيارة و اتجهوا عائدين بعد ان حصل على وعد باطلاق سراح الاخوين, ولكن لم تمضي الا ثواني حتى فوجيء باطلاق رصاص مصدره احدى المولدات القريبة, حيث يبدو ان حرس المولدات قد شكوا في عمر و كيته الداكنة, و قد اراني عمر اثار الرصاصات على طول الكية و هي واضحة لا تحتاج الى اشارة.
و ما ان تمكن عمر من عبور هذه المولدة بسلام حتى فوجيء بمغامرة اسطورية اخرى في هذا اليوم اللا الهي, حيث شاهد ثلاث سيارات اوبل من بعيد و هي تلاحقهم...اصدقائنا السلابة...الاشرار القدماء...و قد يكونوا نفسهم الناس الذين اطلقوا سراحه قبل قليل....تمكن عمر من المراوغة في بعض الأفرع ثم رمى بسيارته في نصف خرابة فانية و هجرها هو و سالم ثم ذهبوا الى بيت صديق قريب و قضو الليلة هناك.
و في الصباح عاد عمر الى البيت...و ما هي الا ساعات حتى رجع اخويه معا..
كان الاول علاءا في حالة جيدة نوعا ما, فلم يستعملوا معه سوى السكاير, حيث يقول ان وجهه كان مليئا ببقع السكائر التي كانو يطفئونها بوجهه على خديه و انفه و حتى عينيه, الا ان شيئا اخر لم يكن به, اما حازما, فقد عذبه ابا درع, و قد استعمل معه المطارق, في كل مكان, حيث ان اصابع يديه قد تهشمت تماما و اصبحت صابونتي ركبتيه عبارة عن "صابونتين" حقيقتين ما ان تلمسهما حتى تتهشم في يديك, اضافة الى الكدمات و الجروح في كل مكان و اثار دريل على ظهره, كان في حالة خطرة جدا و قد تم نقله الى مستشفى النعمان فور وصوله
***
ثم اخذ عمر يشرح لى الاحتفالية التي حدثت في بيته و هو يتكلم بطريقة تمزج بين الفخر و الهول
في نهاية ذلك اليوم امتلىء بيتهم زاخرا بكل انواع الناس الذين يعرفهم و لايعرفهم من الأقارب و الاصدقاء, ثم جاءت مجموعة كبيرة من الناس المسلحين اطلق عليهم عمر اسم "المجاهدين" و كان جميعا مبتسمين فخورين و هنأوا العائلة على سلامة ابناءها الا ان ما استوقفني هي المقولة التي قالها له احد المجاهدين و هم يفرغون من انهاء هذه الحركة الدبلوماسية...حيث وعده بانه سينتقم له و ياخذون كوسترا اي باصا كاملا من الشيعة!!!!!و كان عمر ما زال في نشوة الفخر التي هو بها فقاطعته قائلا و لكن هل هذا صحيح ؟ في نبرة خافتة ميتة و كانني انا بنفسي لا اصدق ما اقوله...قال بسرعة نعم انا قلت لهم ان هذا غير صحيح و لكنه قالها بطريقة غير مكترثة و غير مصدقة, وكاننا نعلم بحجم الاخطاء التي تحدث و نوافق عليها و لكننا لا نفعل شيئا, وما الحل و قد اصبحنا كالرعيع تتناولنا مخالب الذئاب و الضباع من كل جهة في هذه الأرض الخربة المقفرة التى ما زلت احبها رغم كل شيء...
وهكذا انتهت قصة عمر الأسطورية الفانطازية مع اخر ومضة من سيكارتينا, و لولا اني رأيت اثار الطلقات و اثار التعذيب على اخيه شخصيا لكذبته حتف انفه, ولكن هيهات, فكل شي ممكن في هذا البلد على ما يبدو...و قد اخبرني عمر يومها انه يرتب اموره و سيسافر هو واهله قريبا الى سوريا حيث يبدأ بمزاولة عمله القديم من جديد. وهكذا تخرج عائلة اخرى من وطننا الذي يبدو انه لم يعد وطننا , فاقدة الأمل و هي تحمل تجاربا مملوءة بالدم و الويل و نظرة جديدة عن البشر و عالمهم.
و يبدو ان هذه القصة هي النسخة السعيدة من القصص في العراق اليوم, فلك ان ترى كم مرة داعب فك الموت عمرا و خرج منه بسلام هو و اخوته و لم يمت منهم احد.
and they married and lived happily ever after
******
حدث كل ذلك في الشهر السادس من هذه السنة, ولم أرى عمرا منذ ذلك اليوم حيث ان ظروف اليوم قد فرضت على المرء ان لا يخرج من منطقته الا لأشد الحاجات, واين انا و الأعظمية و ما ادراك ما هي...الا ان صدفة عجيبة جعلتني التقى بعمر في شارع المغرب في نهاية شهر رمضان المبارك المنصرم ...وفي باديء الأمر لم اعرفه, حيث انه قد باع الكية و اشترى بدلها سيارة أوبل زرقاء, و قد حلق المجاهدون المباركون رأسه حيث انهم ضبطوه يعلك متلبسا في وضح النهار في رمضان...ولم اكد اصدق منظره و هو الذي خرج من كل تلك الماسي و العذاب و لايزال في هذا السجن المقفر, بمحياه الهزيل المبتسم دائما بلا اكتراث و هو يضحك على تعبيري المقطب و كانني من كوكب زحل و هو يقول
"ها ولك كواد بعدك عايش"
ملاحظة: انا صديق قريب للفتى الحائر...و هو معجب بكتاباتي و قد ارسلت له قصة عمر التي الح علي ان اكتبها لفترة طويلة الان
Saturday, December 09, 2006
Iraqi Civil War Videogame
Aren't Iraqis tired of dying every day by the dozens due to some politician's bad hair day? while the politicians safely determine their destinies in trivial games behind safe castles? Why don't we have it otherwise for a change?
live your dream, pit all these politicians in a single stage and have them for their life a horrific mess of blood, guts, and democracy.
Initial roster
Versus Screen
Screenshot
EXCERPTS FROM GAME JOURNAL:
FATALITIES:
*Adnan al-Dilaymi:
Teatime Friendship: Adnan al-Dilyami's head starts banging back and forth, until steam flows out from his tiny little sidara (hat), he and the opponent sit down to drink tea.
I Forgot To Switch My Phone Off: if you're Abu Dera'a, you can execute this special finish on Dilaymi, simply stand to the far off corner, Adnan al-Dilaymi will stand in a defiant tone, saying: "We are Ahul al-Sunna!", Abu Der'a in typical Sadr City crookedness whips out his mobile phone and calls al-Dilaymi's, his phone starts ringing, he's caught off guard, and has little time to shout before his head starts to rock too, eventually he explodes.
al-Hakim (Baqir):
Self-flagellation fatality: X,X,B,B,C (mid) - al-Hakim will recite a maqtal and self-flagellate, eventually exploding, the green words 'Ya Hossein', appears, while Bassim al-Karbalie sings 'Salla Aaleeka Maleek al-Sama'a'.
al-Hakim (Aziz):
Horrible Medusa: At the Snake Pit, al-Hakim is particualry strong, hold all buttons and release them near ur opponent, al-Hakim will uncover his head and will reveal a hair made of snakes. al-Hakim's body begins to flow snakes all through his robe, who eventually engulf the opponent.
Muqtada al-Sadr:
The Hidden Imam Plays Soccer : Muqtada will use al-Mahdi's power to roll into a giant soccer ball that crushes the opponent.
Habibi: Muqtada will assume a speaker stance, after a few incoherent sentences stuck together by the word Habibi, the opponent will die of laughter. Mahdi's army theme song will play afterwards (Yelagoona lo beehum Zod).
Finish the game will all the players to unlock Abu Der'a.
Unlock Solagh: at the title screen, type: "DRILL".
Unlock Mashhadani: Choose Harith al-Dhari, and beat all the Shiite candidates 12 times (not each), return to the title screen, choose the password menu, the shoe icon will be active, click it, and voila, Mahmood al-Mashhadani.
Saddam Hussein has an alternate 'Baathist' costume, find all the underwear in the laundry level to unlock it.
*add-ins will include Donald Rumsfeld, Iyad Allawi and Mahmood Ahmedinijad.
*BATTLE ARENAS:
1. Bush's Lair
2. al-Askari Shrines
3. Sadr City
4. Abu Haneefa
5. Saddam's Republican Guard
6. al-Mashhadani's Lair (Iraqi Assembly Hall for the uninitiated) (Chairs are usable)
other fictional arenas.
This is one of many abandoned projects of mine, it's a mod for Mortal Kombat that enables you to play with Iraqi politicians, it got halted because I need either a good artist to draw look-alikes or actors who closely resemble the intended personalities, and I couldn't find any. It'd be cool if someone could give me a hand though...
live your dream, pit all these politicians in a single stage and have them for their life a horrific mess of blood, guts, and democracy.
Initial roster Versus Screen Screenshot EXCERPTS FROM GAME JOURNAL:
FATALITIES:
*Adnan al-Dilaymi:
Teatime Friendship: Adnan al-Dilyami's head starts banging back and forth, until steam flows out from his tiny little sidara (hat), he and the opponent sit down to drink tea.
I Forgot To Switch My Phone Off: if you're Abu Dera'a, you can execute this special finish on Dilaymi, simply stand to the far off corner, Adnan al-Dilaymi will stand in a defiant tone, saying: "We are Ahul al-Sunna!", Abu Der'a in typical Sadr City crookedness whips out his mobile phone and calls al-Dilaymi's, his phone starts ringing, he's caught off guard, and has little time to shout before his head starts to rock too, eventually he explodes.
al-Hakim (Baqir):
Self-flagellation fatality: X,X,B,B,C (mid) - al-Hakim will recite a maqtal and self-flagellate, eventually exploding, the green words 'Ya Hossein', appears, while Bassim al-Karbalie sings 'Salla Aaleeka Maleek al-Sama'a'.
al-Hakim (Aziz):
Horrible Medusa: At the Snake Pit, al-Hakim is particualry strong, hold all buttons and release them near ur opponent, al-Hakim will uncover his head and will reveal a hair made of snakes. al-Hakim's body begins to flow snakes all through his robe, who eventually engulf the opponent.
Muqtada al-Sadr:
The Hidden Imam Plays Soccer : Muqtada will use al-Mahdi's power to roll into a giant soccer ball that crushes the opponent.
Habibi: Muqtada will assume a speaker stance, after a few incoherent sentences stuck together by the word Habibi, the opponent will die of laughter. Mahdi's army theme song will play afterwards (Yelagoona lo beehum Zod).
Finish the game will all the players to unlock Abu Der'a.
Unlock Solagh: at the title screen, type: "DRILL".
Unlock Mashhadani: Choose Harith al-Dhari, and beat all the Shiite candidates 12 times (not each), return to the title screen, choose the password menu, the shoe icon will be active, click it, and voila, Mahmood al-Mashhadani.
Saddam Hussein has an alternate 'Baathist' costume, find all the underwear in the laundry level to unlock it.
*add-ins will include Donald Rumsfeld, Iyad Allawi and Mahmood Ahmedinijad.
*BATTLE ARENAS:
1. Bush's Lair
2. al-Askari Shrines
3. Sadr City
4. Abu Haneefa
5. Saddam's Republican Guard
6. al-Mashhadani's Lair (Iraqi Assembly Hall for the uninitiated) (Chairs are usable)
other fictional arenas.
This is one of many abandoned projects of mine, it's a mod for Mortal Kombat that enables you to play with Iraqi politicians, it got halted because I need either a good artist to draw look-alikes or actors who closely resemble the intended personalities, and I couldn't find any. It'd be cool if someone could give me a hand though...
Thursday, December 07, 2006
Guitar Medley: An artifact of the 'good' times
I got a recording of a medley of Iraqi songs I did with Nabil earlier this year, I think May. I'm on vocals and classical rhythm while he's on solo acoustic...What's amazing about it is that it had brought back to me a flood of good memories and nostalgia, it was only May this year!!! Did it really change that much?
This recording was done a month before the graduation party, I had an idea that I would do some sort of mini-concert and I needed a back-up player, this was a time when I thought I could persuade Nabil, a proficient player in his own right, to play with me, I did it with somebody else in the end and it was a great step down from what I had in mind, but still...in some ways, this is a hallmark for one of the best days of my life, if not THE best ever, the graduation day, this was before my friends were killed, before several other things happened that made me hate my country and everything that is in it...
and also, it reminded of a part of myself that I thought was fading, my musical self, it's amazing how a person can change in such a short time, back then, I took myself seriously on the guitar and I was really convinced that I had a passable voice (evidently not, as u can see here -), after repeated tries, I found out that doing any musical project in Iraq surely not work out (not just because of the condition, the audience itself is largely unreceptive and would rather laugh first and throw tomatoes second)...but this short clip, in all its mistakes and amateurish charm, has somehow resurged my interest in guitar as not just something to attract chicas with.
It is a medley of five traditional Iraqi songs, thanks to Ilham al-Madfa'ie, a popular Iraqi artist whose mean feat is transcribing folk songs to western arrangements, they've been done to death on guitar, it's like a Stairway To Heaven for Iraqi musicians, you have to play them at one point or the other: Mohammed Boya Mohammed (Mohammed My Son Mohammed), Fog El Na Khal (Up There We Have A Lover), S'ghayeron (Little One) - perhaps the most sell-out song ever due to the fact that guys like Bashar al-Kaysi have sung it, and Bayn el Asir wil Maghrib (Between the Afternoon & Sunset), I didn't know the lyrics at the time for that last song, and being the naughty person that I am, have replaced them with a high-school rhyme that is lewd in a polite way (The Haji Returned From Mecca).
Nabil sings on S'ghayeron too.... Enjoy
This recording was done a month before the graduation party, I had an idea that I would do some sort of mini-concert and I needed a back-up player, this was a time when I thought I could persuade Nabil, a proficient player in his own right, to play with me, I did it with somebody else in the end and it was a great step down from what I had in mind, but still...in some ways, this is a hallmark for one of the best days of my life, if not THE best ever, the graduation day, this was before my friends were killed, before several other things happened that made me hate my country and everything that is in it...
and also, it reminded of a part of myself that I thought was fading, my musical self, it's amazing how a person can change in such a short time, back then, I took myself seriously on the guitar and I was really convinced that I had a passable voice (evidently not, as u can see here -), after repeated tries, I found out that doing any musical project in Iraq surely not work out (not just because of the condition, the audience itself is largely unreceptive and would rather laugh first and throw tomatoes second)...but this short clip, in all its mistakes and amateurish charm, has somehow resurged my interest in guitar as not just something to attract chicas with.
It is a medley of five traditional Iraqi songs, thanks to Ilham al-Madfa'ie, a popular Iraqi artist whose mean feat is transcribing folk songs to western arrangements, they've been done to death on guitar, it's like a Stairway To Heaven for Iraqi musicians, you have to play them at one point or the other: Mohammed Boya Mohammed (Mohammed My Son Mohammed), Fog El Na Khal (Up There We Have A Lover), S'ghayeron (Little One) - perhaps the most sell-out song ever due to the fact that guys like Bashar al-Kaysi have sung it, and Bayn el Asir wil Maghrib (Between the Afternoon & Sunset), I didn't know the lyrics at the time for that last song, and being the naughty person that I am, have replaced them with a high-school rhyme that is lewd in a polite way (The Haji Returned From Mecca).
Nabil sings on S'ghayeron too.... Enjoy
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