For a couple of weeks I have seen posters around town for a movie. I was excited because I assumed that meant there must be some theater somewhere showing this movie.
Ok, so I decided to post a much less heavy post today.I know nothing about racism.
Today, I listened to D-Dog, our cook, relate the story of her recent trip to Baghdad to Janie. I heard her say that all of the Arabs are dirty and that she feared for her life the whole time she was there. Janie tried to assure her that, in fact, all the Arabs are not dirty.
But what does Janie know? Like me, Janie grew up learning about pluralism and stereotyping, so we know that there's no possible way that ever member of any group can possibly fit all the stereotypes associated with the group; all Arabs can't possibly be terrorist. The facts back us up on this point.
But how much do the facts matter if you are targeted for murder or worse just because you're Kurdish? How would I feel if I went to Baghdad? And I were Kurdish? And old? And had no choice but to go to the center of Hell just to take my mother to the hospital?
Northern Iraq is being flooded with Arab refugees. The Kurds are very hospitable, but behind closed doors they whisper about the Arabs. They distrust them and warn us to avoid them lest we be kidnapped by one of them. Kurdish television runs heart-wrenching PSAs reminding us all of the situation of the Arabs in the south and compelling us to be accepting of them as they flee the violence.
But these are the people that have been murdering the Kurds for hundreds of years. These are the people who burned down Kurdish villages and forced the Kurds into the mountains. These are the people that murdered 5000 people in a single day in Halabja. These are the people that have always treated the Kurds like second-class citizens belittling them and strangling their economy. These are the people that have laid waste to Baghdad and Mosul and Kirkuk. These are the people that packed a truck bomb under blocks of ice to ensure that their bomb infused with nails didn't explode into the sky, but rather killed as many Kurds as possible last month. These are the people that killed almost 100 people in Kirkuk just a few days ago.
And now, here they are. Living among the Kurds, looking for jobs, relying on the Kurds for their future.
No, it's not the same people. Of course, I know that. I know the difference between Arabs and insurgents. But I also know that if a bomb ever explodes in my city, if hundreds of Kurds die, it won't be from a Kurdish bomber. It'll be an Arab.
But, even knowing that, I am uncomfortable when the Kurds point to an Arab and whisper “Pise.” I shake my head and say, no, they're not dirty. When a certain friend rails against the Arabs and the Muslims, I remind him that Jesus tells us to love our enemies.
Today, I heard that tattoos are all the rage in Baghdad and Kirkuk. It seemed like a very un-Muslim thing to do, so I was surprised and I started to make a joke about it, but then Cory told the rest of the story. It's so families can identify bodies.
People are getting tattoos so their mothers can find their bodies after a suicide bomb attack.
And still they must forgive.
I know nothing about forgiveness, either.
Today I learned some very important things about Kurdish culture
Cures for Jaundice:
a. If it is a man, he should sit in a room with other men and they will talk. At some point a woman will come in and sit and talk with the man who has jaundice. She will slap him.
b. If it is a child, he or she should eat small live fish. These fish will swim around in the stomach for a while and the child will be cured.
c. You can also just take the child to look at some fish. If he or she throws coins at the fish, all the better.
Apparently women cannot be cured of jaundice. Sorry, ladies.
This story passes for humor:
There were two couple, one was a young man and woman in a village and the other was a young man and woman in a village. The two in the city met at a local park. When the man arrived, the woman said, “Why didn't you bring me flowers?” The man replied,”You are a flower. What do you need with flowers?”
The village couple met in the village and the woman said, “Oh, my shoe is broken why didn't you bring me new shoes?” The man replied, “You are shoes. What do you need with shoes?”
Picture of the toilet. Jealous?
This picture is of my "bathroom area." It's actually four rooms: the toilet room, the shower room, the shower waiting room and this big room with the sink, a door to the "outside" and some stairs.
Ok, there it is. That's the ceiling of the back hallway thing. It's nice in that it gives the bedrooms extra sunlight, but it's a little weird.
So, there isn't much going on here... It's pretty hot, but I hear it's hot at home, too. I will remind everyone, though, for the sympathy, that I don't have air conditioning and my house is made out of concrete like some great stone oven.
Ok, here are two more pictures of my house. On top is the kitchen and below is the living room.
I have also picked that dish towel up off of the floor.
The picture to the right has nothing to do with the following story, but I have more pictures to upload of my house and I thought this was as good a time as any to post one more. This is the foyer.
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