Mayada

Dearest,

Mayada 

Today I spoke to Mayada on the phone. She is the Iraqi woman that Jean Sasson wrote about, in her
book "Mayada." For someone who reads a book, bonds closely with it, and then somehow, someday her wish comes true and she meets the character in real life... sometimes you get disappointed and at other times you are happy.

Previously, I was in contact with Jouana (Love in a Torn Land) and our phone conversation was long, in depth and I must admit she was everything that was built and created in my mind. Today, Mayada, when I heard her voice on the phone (this is after email exchanges) my heart sank. Why didn't I say Ms. Mayada? How about Auntie Mayada? She sounded a little older on the phone. And here I am, casually referring to her by her first name, as if we were lifetime friends.

It was one of those moments I will cherish for a long time. And you know what? She is going to send me a signed copy of her book....

Before I say goodnight

Dearest,

Just wanted to come by and say alhamdulilah* for everything in my life.

The highlight of my day? SK and I went to a few places, I won't give details. But once I got back home it really hit me the difference between wealth and poverty; the high and low class. I have always taken note, and I hope I have never ignored the fact that even my own society is unfair--and probably my own living standards--but today I saw two worlds right after the other. Yet so different from one another.

I just wish I don't become the sort of person who can live only in one world and forget the other. We don't count or realize out blessings until we see the lives of others. You know what's weird? We call people that are not well off financially 'less fortunate' but I have truly come to believe that they are not less fortunate. The real 'less fortunate' people are those who are well off and decide not to look at those under them or those behind them.


Lots of love
Saza - I miss two things: 1. Pura Gulizard at the elderly people's home and Mam Khalil and his teashop.

p.s. Today marked three months since I said "I do."


*The International word (Islamic word I guess) for thanking God, Allah.

Quick update

So...

Dearest,

I am work at the moment (on lunch break)  - earlier this week I wrote a blog entry on how few of my friend and people I know could help the individuals in the Domiz refugee camp. I am so happy with the response. I got a few emails that really made me happy. Including two people who said they are willing to sponsor an entire at the camp every month.

Here is an email I received this morning:


Dear Sazan, 

As per you blog, I would like to help if I can.  I would like to donate a few more items to whomever you would see fit that I have.  

But more importantly I would like to make a regular monthly payment of $###,## to an individual, or family to assist in supporting, and resettling them.  Either one of the cases you have already mentioned, or another that you identify as being in need. 

Please let me know hoe this can be facilitated.

You are an inspiration to us all, and it is the least I can do to help

Best wishes

***** ***

A few other people are doing little fundraisers. So happy and proud.

Meanwhile, next stop will be South Africa for a summit. Will keep you posted what happens there. I am not sure how it is going to be, but I am representing Kurdish youth, I would like to think I can fairly represent Kurds. I just wish these meetings and summits was not just empty talks but action follows, because there are thousands of meetings and discussions that take place but rarely do we see people going out there and doing something.

Much love

Saza - 

Updates

Dearest..

It has been a while.

No. It is not that I had nothing to write or I was busy, in fact yes I was busy, but that is not the reason why I haven't written. There is so much going on. Day by day this wold disappoints me more and more and here I am with some amazing people doing my best to fix or help in fixing the little cracks I see. At least it makes me feel better.

What shall I write to you about?
Shall I tell you about the kids at the orphanage? Or shall I share with you the stories of the youth at the refugee camp? Shall I speak of the girls who wish to go back to their studies but are spending their days in a tiny tent with six other people? Shall I speak of the conditions of disabled people or the neglect of the old and sick?

My mind goes a million places every second. Sometimes I ask myself how it is that I can still smile and enjoy my days while taking in the suffering of all these people who I see in my daily life.

We spent some days at the refugee camp. One day, we left the camp to go to Duhok. I had taken in all that had happened in the previous days and stayed very strong. The second the doors to the car closed, and it was only the driver and my two colleagues (also trainers) I could no longer hold it in, all the way to Duhok I just cried. Like a baby I cried, because I couldn't fool myself, Saza could not change what she wanted to change. This time Saza could not.

On a daily bases I kept a diary in the camp, I will type them out and post them on the blog.

For now shawshad
Saza - I can't change the world. I know I can't. But at least I can try. 

Brain hurts after watching movie

Dearest...

Went to the movies this evening with S.K. and D.K. First of all I was told the genre of the movie was comedy (or rather romantic comedy), secondly, I was refused to be sat next to because I get too attached to the film -- cry when it's sad, laugh out loud when funny and scream (yes scream) when it becomes a little bit scary. 

Now.. the movie was not at all Comedy, I was definitely fooled on that one, and now I know why those in my company refused to sit next to me because usually at such a movie I would scream for half of it and cover my eyes for the half. 

I managed to control my heart, eyes, mouth, and every part of my body with my mind. I didn't scream. Not even once, and I hope that I didn't embarrass S.K. or D.K. All this aside, I think tonight made me feel so much stronger when it came to fear and strength. For someone who almost never watches movies (and when I did it was something like Legally Blonde or Princess Diaries) tonight was a very interesting turn. Having said this, I can't emphasize the need of people to watch healthy movies. Movies that you walk out of the cinema (or put the DVD off) and you have learned something useful, you have taken something away from it. Something positive. Of all the gun battles, deaths, and cars on fire, and mouths bleeding all I have with me now is.... a night of nightmares.

I am sure you're dying to know the name of the movie, but it shall remain anonymous simply because you will think I am out of my mind to make a big deal of a movie that... (let me quote S.K. here) "is made for 12 year-olds."

Good night

Saza - super tired. Let's hope it's sweet dreams for me

Looking for a mum

Aya

Dearest...

Today was one of those days where you are exceptionally happy and exceptionally sad at the same time. Does that even make sense? Yes? No? Well, let me explain.

We (the usual B.A., A.S., A.R.) were invited by the older girls in Mali Xanda to have iftar* with them. B.A. called me and of course I leave all our guests at home -- just to be kind,  I took one of the cousins -- and off I went. As soon as I walked in I saw the big pot of dolma!!!! Yes, you read right, DOLMA. And what happens when Saza sees dolma? She owns the world!

We enjoyed our iftar, spoke a bit, joked a little, washed the dishes.. and then Aya came. It upset me how everyone told her off, "Go away... leave the plates... You will break it all... You *&^$#... The crazy Aya came." I decided that Aya was going to help A.R. and myself in washing the dishes and what a great job she did at that.

Later she played with my phone, soon she insisted I model for her so she can pictures of me and within minutes later Aya ran inside the house, I followed fearing she will be up to mischief, but there she was sitting alone, quietly in the room watching her favorite TV shows. I asked her to join us in the other house, during the break she did. Not long later, I found Aya'd head placed on my thighs as she watched her TV show.

Tears filled my eyes as I played with her newly cut hair, as I observed all her wounds and bruises. It stings my heart to know that only because she has ADHD this beautiful little girl MIGHT be sent to what we have come to believe is a mental institute in Baghdad. The condition thus far is we find Aya a family who are willing to adopt her or take her into foster care.

Our search has started, sometimes we feel lucky, other times we feel... not so lucky!

As for me, when we left Mali Xanda Aya pleaded I take her on a little ride in my car in the parking. Of course the other kids followed and we did just that. She took a very special little Quraan in my car, kissed it and said she wants to keep it. I let her keep it.

What she doesn't know is I have written a few lines on the first page of that Quraan. Never did I know one day Aya will take it....

Aya needs a Daya^ and here I am trying to make this happen. I often ask myself whether I can be Aya's Daya... but I know she needs a lot of care, at the moment with an 8 to 5 job I will not be of much help to her. I am just questioning myself, if we reach the deadline and we haven't found anyone... will I have no other option but to open my own doors to Aya? What will the family think? What is going to be S.K.'s reaction? Will it be fair I bring in someone who needs a lot of attention  and I am sure I won't be able to give it to her at this point in my life?

Lots and lots of questions. I am unsure of many answers, but one thing I am sure of is that Aya can not and will not step foot into Baghdad.

Love
Saza - A little frustrated, but I must admit I had the best iftar this Ramadan.


* Dinner to break the fasting during the month of Ramadan
^ The greatest Kurdish word - mother

Next...

Dear... (aaaah, that fulfilling feeling of writing to no one),

Traveling is my weakness. Whether it is to a village half an hour away, to another city or to a different continent. The idea of traveling a certain distance to experience a different culture, environment, people and a society that I am not familiar with is the best thing that could happen to me.

It has been a while since I travelled, the last time I can think of was my Egypt trip. No, correction, in fact I travelled to Duhok and stayed at the Domiz Refugee Camp less than eight weeks ago. I never knew I was so adventurous, but it looks like I need it. My mind and my heart need it. Could I be addicted?

I enjoy the feeling of learning something knew, discovering a culture. By traveling I don't mean going to some fancy Five Star hotel to sit down by the pool all day. No, I mean going to local markets, visiting museums, local sights, mixing with the people, learning the language, making friends, exchanging views and beliefs... that's the travel that I need. The travel that I want. The one I enjoy.

Saza - Late at night (2:03 am) trying to cook up an idea for another journey.