Critics of the antiwar movement are constantly singing praises about the good things that are happening in Iraq and berating the media for not reporting on the wonderful progress being made in painting schools, and patching up bridges and sewer systems blown apart by American bombs. I have to admit though that the following post does bring back some fond memories of my own 1950s childhood of sleeping on the porch during hot summer nights before the advent of air-conditioning. Of course, childhood memories have usually been conveniently stripped of the misery and discomforts which accompanied them.
Listen to Riverbend, the Iraqi girl blogger, tell you firsthand of the real progress being made in Baghdad to return the city to at least the shape it was in the day before the war started.
- Hot. It’s hot, hot, hot, hot.
The weather is almost stifling now. The air is heavy and dry with heat. By early noon, it’s almost too hot to go outside. For every two hours of electricity, we have four hours of no electricity in our area- and several other areas. The problem now is that the generators in many areas are starting to break down due to constant use and the bad quality of the fuel. It’s a big problem and it promises to grow as the summer progresses.
I have spent the last two days ruminating the political situation and… washing the roof. While the two activities are very different, they do share one thing in common- the roof, and political situation, are both a mess.
The roof of an Iraqi home is a sacred place. As much planning goes into it as almost anything else. The roofs are flat and often surrounded by a low wall on which one can lean and look out into the city. During this last year, a certain sort of special bond has formed between your typical Iraqi and the roof of his or her home. We run out to the roof to see where the smoke is coming from after an explosion; we gather on the roof to watch the helicopters flying over head; we reluctantly drag ourselves out to the roof to fill the water tanks when the water is low; we hang clothes to dry on the clotheslines strung out haphazardly across the roof; we sleep on the roof during the endless, powerless nights. … read more