Goodbye, Baghdad

 

By Riverbend

 

 

Since last summer we had been discussing it more and more. What began as a suggestion – a last resort – soon took on solidity and developed into a plan. For the last couple of months it has only been a matter of logistics. Plane or car? Jordan or Syria? Will we all leave together as a family? Or will it be only my brother and I at first?

 

After Jordan or Syria, where then? Obviously either of those is going to be a transit. They are both overflowing with Iraqi refugees, and every single Iraqi living in either is complaining about the fact that work is difficult to come by, and getting a residency is even more difficult. There is also the little problem of being turned back at the border. Thousands of Iraqis aren't being let into Syria or Jordan – and there are no definite criteria for entry; the decision is based on the whim of the border guard.

 

A plane isn't necessarily safer, as the trip to Baghdad International is in itself risky, and travellers are just as likely to be refused permission to enter if they arrive by plane. And if you're wondering why Syria or Jordan, it's because they are the only countries that will let Iraqis in without a visa. Following up visa issues with the few functioning embassies or consulates in Baghdad is next to impossible.

 

 

I know starting a new life somewhere else is such a huge thing that it should dwarf every trivial concern. The funny thing is that it's the trivial that seems to occupy our lives. We discuss whether to take photo albums or leave them behind. Can I bring along a stuffed animal I've had since the age of four? Is there room for E's guitar? What clothes do we take? Summer clothes? The winter clothes too? What about my books? What about the CDs, the baby pictures? The problem is that we don't know if we'll ever see this stuff again.

 

We don't know if whatever we leave, including the house, will be available when and if we come back. There are moments when the injustice of having to leave your country, simply because an imbecile got it into his head to invade it, is overwhelming. It is unfair that in order to survive and live normally, we have to leave our home and what remains of family and friends. And to what?

 

 

It's difficult to decide which is more frightening: car bombs and militias or having to leave everything you know and love, to go to some unspecified place for a future where nothing is certain.