Between Middle East and America: A so Awaited Visit, San Juan, PR-Iraqi-Kurdistan, February 17th, 2012

I have been quiet for some months now. During December-January, I went home to visit family and friends. I am back on the ground in Kurdistan, Iraq despite being worried about recent talks about bombings in Iran, which is a couple of hours away from where I live. The propaganda is immense, especially from Israel, who cannot come to terms with a nuclear Iran and is trying to persuade the US to attack. Well, that’s another whole story, but basically I wanted to share my thoughts about my visit back home and to Connecticut.

Being home was refreshing, after more than a year away. Spending time with family and friends gave me a sense of groundness. I enjoyed a warm Caribbean Christmas, being nurtured by loved ones and was able to replenish the energy lost to all my travels for the past one and a half year. Sometimes you get yourself so into the work you do that you forget about your loved ones, and that is not healthy.

I also had the opportunity to connect with my fellow friends and Middle East activists back home, that are doing their share of work while we are on the ground. They keep the momentum going at home, reminding people and our elected officials that we don’t want more war and abuses in the Middle East. Knowing that there’s people supporting the work I do, gives me strength to keep going.

I gave four talks in CT and it was great to connect again with people. During the first one, I burst into tears when I showed a slideshow with some of the pictures from my journey. Is just one of those moments when it really sinks in. It is hard when you have been focusing on doing, doing, doing,  to find the time to absorb it all. I had great discussions and the opportunity to share my experience, what it means to me and to the people I have met to have lived and worked in Palestine and now in Iraq. I talked about Hamas; how it started as a grassroots movement, about how our “war on terror” has developed more violence and created millions of refugees and internally displaced people, some of which I had the opportunity to work with. One of the questions that came up was: What has been the hardest thing about living and working in the Middle East? For me, it hasn’t been the hard conditions, lack of social life as we know it in the west, unavailability of electricity, or that sometimes I feel helpless towards the situation; the hardest thing is the fact that I have an American passport and I can leave whenever I want.  Anytime I feel fed up, I can just take a bus or a plane, get myself a piña colada and seat in front of the beach. I have options and freedom; something which my Iraqi and Palestinian friends lack. To me, that is the hardest thing.

Talk in Storrs, CT Jan 23rd.

New Haven, Jan. 26th with Stan Heller from the Middle East Crisis Committee

I mostly talked with people working in Middle East advocacy, but it was interesting to talk to people who were not activists; but regular people with no background in this part of the world. Part of the  job is to take this time to talk to people and get the word out about how really things are, not only what is shown in mainstream media, that is part of the construction of what our governments want us to believe. I was very touched when people thanked me for bringing my personal story, because it gave them a face to what they frequently hear in the news, or even study at school. The reality is that Iraqis and Palestinians are real people, who are not much different from us; even Islam is not much different from Christianity. They just have lived under different conditions, including war and dictatorships, that our own governments and tax dollars have financed and I think this is why I feel accountable and I want to show Palestinians and Iraqis that not all Americans agree with our government policies.

In Hartford, CT on Jan 27th

This past month, gave me the time to reflect on the things that I have lived and what I’ve learned about this journey: I have learned that there are people and generations in this part of the world who have lived their entire life at war (Palestine more than 40 years, Iraq more than 30 years); even some of the little ones have spent their entire lives as refugees. They have loved and hated, laughed and cried and wiped out their tears. They have won, and lost; and have found creative ways to survive. They have seen life and death, and buried their dead and continued their journey; many have lived through occupation, but few have tasted freedom. I’ve also learned to love and value myself, learned the value of family and friends, to listen to all and above all, I have learned that there are still people who are compassionate, care for justice and value everyone equally. 

Now, I don’t have a job, as many Iraqi, Egyptians, Libyans and Palestinians, just to mention some. I mean, I am doing a lot of things. For example, a couple of days ago, I was in a small village near Suleimaniya called Tutaqal. A village of about 15 families, the landscape was so beautiful; you could see the snow-topped mountains. I went with a friend who was going to deliver three trailers to be used as a school as part of a project to eradicate Female Genital Mutilation (FGM). They have agreed with the village to provide for three classrooms in exchange of the villagers agreement not to engage in this practice anymore.  I met the beautiful children who were going to benefit from the classrooms. I wish you could see the faces of the students and teachers when they saw the new “classroom-trailers”, they were so happy, they moved their desks and chairs instantaneously!!!! But also I wish you saw their previous classrooms, small and dark, one of the rooms was used to keep the donkeys. So dusty and dark! I can’t stop thinking how blessed we are to have all the resources we have in America, when there are children who have less than the minimum! Read the story.

First and second grade students in Toutakhel, Iraq, share a classroom in a cinderblock building that the village rents for the school. The building lacks electricity, heat, and water. Three of the school’s six grades moved to new trailers that serve as modern classrooms on Monday, February 13. Wadi and the village are working together to obtain additional funding for three more trailers to serve as classrooms. Photo by Heidi Diedrich

Three sixth grade students in Toutakhel, Iraq, study English in the village school, housed in a rented cinderblock building that lacks electricity, heat, and water. Shortly after this photograph was taken, the sixth grade students moved into their new classroom, housed in one of three trailers delivered to the village on Monday, February 13. Photo by Heidi Diedrich

A mud hut that used to be a donkey shed served until recently as a classroom for first and second grade students in Toutakhel, Iraq. Elementary student Amez, age 12, said, “Before transferring to this new school [the classroom trailers, we were studying in a building that was a place for donkeys. Now we are so happy. We have a better place to study. The school is able to support us, and it is more comfortable for teaching.” Photo by Heidi Diedrich

A schoolteacher from Toutakhel, Iraq helps guide one of three new trailers that now house elementary classrooms for village students in grades fourth, fifth, and six. Wadi and the village are working together to obtain additional funding for three more trailers to serve as classrooms for students in first, second, and third grades. Photo by Heidi Diedrich

Students in Toutakhel, Iraq began moving in classroom furniture into the new trailers on Monday, February 13, the same day the structures were delivered to the village. Photo by Heidi Diedrich

Sixth grade students in the remote village of Toutakhel, Iraq finished the school day on Monday, February 13 in their new classroom, housed in one of three trailers delivered that day as part of the Stop FGM Kurdistan campaign. Photo by Heidi Diedrich

Elementary school children in the remote village of Toutakhel, Iraq, wave goodbye to the Wadi team. Photo by Heidi Diedrich

Students in Toutakhel, Iraq began moving in classroom furniture into the new trailers on Monday, February 13, the same day the structures were delivered to the village. Photo by Heidi Diedrich

So, now I leave something for later, so many thoughts, that I cannot keep up with my writing. Later, I will write about honor killings in Kurdistan. I hope you keep reading my posts and keep supporting me and the people here in your prayers.

Eat, Love and Pray in Iraqi-Kurdistan--031411, Erbil, Iraqi Kurdistan

Drinking my tears of anger, frustration and sadness. I don’t know how to deal with all the realities that I have in front of me. Many peoples; many stories. Stories that I am part of, but I wish they were not happening. Not even violent stories or people being hurt physically. It’s all an internal struggle for survival. A struggle to survive in a very tough environment, full of discrimination, fear and violence against women.

A Kurdish guy, frustrated because he is not able to provide better for his family, a very low salary job, his son with a very uncommon disease, trapped in a life that he can’t manage, overwhelmed by the political situation, a corrupted government that imprisons, torture and suppresses all opposition, despite calling itself a democracy. He does not see a way out. He wants to provide a good education and good opportunities for his children, but how.

A Kurdish girl, who’s living in constant fight with the society around her. She challenges the conventional wisdom that a girl needs to marry and take care of her husband and children. She wants to be independent, travel and learn how to help other women that are facing the same challenges as her. She doesn’t like to wear the veil, but she forced to, for the sake of not harming her family’s reputation. Her job is very stressful and challenging. She is constantly afraid of making mistakes and making her boss angry. She hopes to find an ideal man that can understand her and can be open to the fact that she wants to continue working and wants to travel and know the world.

A guy from Baghdad-an internally displaced person-like many here in Erbil, he came running away from violence and trying to survive inside Iraq (as an Iraqi and is extremely hard to go abroad). He used to have a clothes shop in the market in Baghdad, but because all the violence and explosions, the market was closed. He is away from his family; both his parents are sick. His brother in law is in jail and his sister has 4 children. He has not married because he does not have enough money to pay the dowry to be able to get a wife. He left school at an early age to work. Now, alone and away from his loved ones, not speaking the [Kurdish] language-which leaves him with less work opportunities- he has to survive in odd jobs, working 17 hours a day. He cannot complain and has to accept this, otherwise he will not be able to stay in Erbil and has to return to Baghdad.

An Iraqi girl, who also is fighting the society, she is charming and beautiful, very independent and speaks herself out. She fights for her right to be free and independent, in a society that criticizes those two qualities if seen in a woman. She struggles to keep a good job and to be able to be out of the controlling eye of her supervisor that follows her in every step, and tries to decide for her what is good or bad.

Aother Iraqi girl, she confronts a conservative society that dictates the rules that women have to follow. She says there is a line and you have to walk in that line, you have to respect society. She tries to keep herself busy to hide her emptiness. She dreams of going abroad to find her freedom. She does not blame her family whom she says are very supportive and open. She loves fashion and has found here in Kurdistan a place where she is free to wear what she wants without fearing the society’s criticism. She is very kind and loving and wishes to find a husband that takes care and understands her.

A society that still operates on a tribal base and that calls itself a democracy. A system that favors only some; those who are supporters of the ruling elites. Everything is controlled by a few that hold the power and benefit from the resources of the country. The government is opening the door for foreign investment because of its own interest and benefit, but this has its consequences: a very traditional society opening to development and globalization but yet close-minded. We don’t know yet how this will impact Kurdish society, but what we know is that this rapid economic growth brings injustice; there is no equality in the redistribution of income.

Weak institutions that only serve the interests of the few, the few that have connections to those with power. If you need something done, you need contacts, or otherwise, things are really hard to manage. On the entrance of the Ministry of Interior, where I went to get my visa, there is a woman with her children crying for help, she does not have any connections, nor she knows anyone in the government who can help her. While there are a lot of foreign workers who come to improve their life opportunities here, there are some locals, often women and children, begging on the street. I told my co-worker, if we keep going out, we will be broke, because every time we go out, there is a person who is asking for money.

International Organizations that only seek to stabilize the government because is on their best interest to have a “democracy” on an oil producer country. They are investing millions of dollars in “peace building” and “democracy promotion”, but people is too busy worried on trying to stay warm in the winter and cool in the summer, trying to get a job to provide for their family.

I guess I am upset in a way. At least I have many opportunities, as I happen to live in a democratic country [I didn't have a choice]. I can travel freely, follow my dreams…..but my friends here can’t [they didn't get to choose either].

This is a beautiful country, with a rich history, culture and great people, but also a sad history of war, genocide and fighting. My only wish is that democracy will come to Kurdistan from a freely elected government, not from fear of the past or tribalism. There is a need for the development of strong institutions that support civil society and participation in an environment that is inclusive of all, men and women. This will take time… on the meantime, I’m here, listening, sharing my sadness, tears and stories, that one day people read them and know how I feel as I Eat, Love and Pray in Iraqi-Kurdistan!!

Thoughts and Reflections for the New Year—Iraq 123110

How do I start gathering my thoughts about this year of 2010? First, I have to say that it has been a very productive one. A year full of changes, challenges, and decisions made, of letting go of some things and people and embracing others, losing but mainly gaining. A lot of traveling, and when I say a lot, is a LOTTTT! From NY to Cairo and back, and then back again….

In Cairo, holding the PR flag, full of puerotrican children's hands in solidarity for the children in GAZA, December, 2009. 

I started and ended my year in the Middle East. Last year, on New Year’s Eve, I was in Cairo, in my first international activism mission. I took part on the Gaza Freedom March, an international delegation that gathered around 1,400 people in Cairo, whose purpose was to challenge the siege of Gaza. It was the first anniversary of Operation Cast Lead, and we wanted to get the world’s attention on the approximately 1,400 people killed by this unjust Israeli attack on civilian population. Although most of us didn’t make it into Gaza, we stayed in Cairo for a week, annoying the Egyptian government, also complicit of the siege, for enforcing Israeli policies and for not letting us get into Gaza. We did actions and demonstrations every day; from climbing the pyramids and hanging the Palestinian flag, to the biggest international gathering on Dec 31st near the Egyptian Museum.




I remember that, when everyone was getting ready for the New Year to come, we were getting ready to make our voices heard. More than 500 people from 42 countries gathered and came out to the street in front of the Egyptian Museum paralyzing the traffic. Immediately, we were confronted by the Egyptian riot and undercover police, that had been all week following us. They started to kick people and to try to break the demonstration.

During the demonstration on December 31st, 2009, Cairo, Egypt. Photo by Johanna L. Rivera.

The sense of unity that I experienced was incredible. Everybody was holding each other, while being beaten or kicked, or women being pulled by their hair. I remember a guy that held me and hugged me after I was shocked and crying because of my confrontation with the police (I was not beaten, but still was PTSD). This guy whom I didn’t know was holding me and I experienced a sense of peace and comfort. The people's bonding and unity was amazing. It was the same feeling I experienced last November, on one of Beit Ommar's demonstration when being teargassed by the IDF. The feeling that no one can break the unity and strength that comes from standing for justice and truth. It almost feels that your spirit rises and you are so powerful and not afraid of what can happen.

I imagine that was the same feeling that activists from the Freedom Flotilla felt when their boats were illegally taken by the Israeli military (May 2010). That same spirit that makes Palestinians go on every week in Beit Ommar, Bil’in, Al Walaja and many other villages fighting in non violent ways. I guess among all my frustration and sometimes helplessness, I feel there is some hope. Hope that comes from the past months living this journey deep into the struggle. Knowing that there is evil, sure, but that there is more good. Sitting at a table around Israeli and Palestinian activists after a demo, knowing that they are fighting with the only weapons they have; their bodies and spirits and that there is no man-made weapon that can overpower truth. The Israeli military, with their US-made weapons can kill many, but they will never kill the spirit of truth; and the truth is that we are all human beings, made equal and that we don't own the land; the land owns us. And I will add that my hope, even when sometimes is mixed with tears and frustration is the only thing I can take with me on this journey, is the only thing that keeps me standing in the middle of the struggle.

The hope I got from the people at the Tent of Nations, fighting everyday against the illegal occupation of their land. They have been successful for the past 10 years from preventing the Israelis of taking over their land. Hope from my girls from Bethlehem, because in their eyes and smiles I see that we have to keep the cry for justice, so they, one day will be free to see the ocean. The hope from the bedouine people of El Arakib, rebuilding their village again and again after its 9th consecutive demolition. The people in Beit Ommar, Issawiya, that confront the soldiers every day, and stand against the occupation. The women from KAYAN working from within to empower other women to gain more social and political participation and to fight Israel's racism. The hope from ALL the people I met that work everyday to fight injustice and inequality.

In the weekly demo in Beit Ommar against the illegal appropriation of land from the farmers


But still, many questions remain. First, I want to understand what is behind all this disproportionate violence. How is it that a human being can react in such a way as to use such disproportionate violence against an unarmed civilian, to purposely KILL. Today, there were news report of a Palestinian killed at a checkpoint in Nablus, because the Palestinian attacked the soldier with a bottle. How does that work? I hit you with a bottle and you kill me, when you are the one oppressing me and taking away all my freedoms and rights on the first place. I have been on the checkpoint when there have been excessive delays of more than one hour of just waiting and one soldier on top of us, on the roof with a gun, just watching, indifferent, while smoking a cigarette how the Palestinians get anxious.

Entrance of BETHLEHEM checkpoint


Second, I want to understand what is behind these terrorist attacks here in Iraq (the main one in October 31st) , on the Christian community. How come, in the name of religion, you can justify bombing a church, although what is said here is that what caused the bombing was that the government intervened in an inappropriate way by failing to negotiate with the terrorists but went inside the church, causing the attack to be worse. I guess this mistake in strategy is political too. I don’t know about you, but it makes me ANGRY, in a different way than the Palestinian-Israeli issue makes me angry. I don’t know why or how people become so brainwashed to do such things but I know how it feels (here in Iraq) to be afraid in the very place you are supposed to find peace and lift your spirit.

I can only hope that peace will come, one person at a time, one smile at a time. I know I cannot change the way or the politics of these conflicts. If I had a magic stick and could make ONE wish come true for next year, it would be to make the first commandment true. LOVE YOUR NEXT AS YOURSELF! At least I think that would be a good start.

Children playing in Khabat village 20 km out of Erbil--Iraq their eyes and smiles help me keep on this struggle. Photo by Johanna L. Rivera

Children from Beit Ommar village in Palestine, for them I keep my hope. Photo by Johanna L. Rivera