Talking about Jane Austen in Baghdad

Preface

This was never meant to be a book. But when you read it, you'll see how it had to become one, regardless of any embarrassment I might feel about its intimate contents.

I made contact with May in 2005, completely at random. She was just another person at the end of a phone line in my busy working day. I never imagined that we'd become friends, our worlds were so different. But as a relationship developed, the inti­macies that we shared took on a huge momentum in my life.

Writing the emails became compulsive. I wanted to share the personal moments in my life with my friend, someone I came to call my sister, never thinking that anyone else would read them.

I can't help but feel a degree of horror now that the book is being published. The only consolation is that my private revela­tions are quite meagre next to May's story - and so, in tribute to her courage, here goes.

Bee Rowlatt

When I answered that phone call, Bee was a journalist through whom I wanted to expose my country's misery. I wanted the whole world to see the unreason and injustice of the decision to invade Iraq and shatter our lives - how the simplest daily chores became far-fetched objectives. I never realized at the time that my life would change through a friendship that exceeded race, age, time and place.

May Witwit

17.01.05

Hello

Dear May

Thank you for agreeing to be available for interview. As I said, I'm a producer for BBC World Service radio, on the news programme The World. I've been phoning around all week trying to make contact with various English-speaking Iraqis to interview in the run-up to the elections at the end of this month, so I was very happy to find you!

Would it be ok if I called you on Thursday? Most people I have spoken to say they are nervous about the elections and possible violence on the day. I'd love to hear your thoughts. Perhaps you could tell us about everyday life in Baghdad at the moment as well? Hearing you talk about trying to do your hair in a city of power cuts - ending up with it half curly and half straight - made me think that life must carry on behind the street fighting and explosions on the news. I can't imagine what it's like, and I'd love to hear from you about how you manage.

I wonder if you would mind telling me more about your family and your background. It's not easy for people over here to discover the voices of ordinary Iraqi people whose lives are tangled up in the big news stories. In any case I will email you again, so that I can keep up with your plans.

Take care.

Very best wishes Bee

26.01.05

Hi, Bee

I received your email and was delighted - it has been ages since I've been in contact with anyone from Britain.

Since you asked, here is a little more about myself: I am the eldest of three, two girls and a boy. We were born in Iraq - in 1959, 1962 and 1964. My parents, both pharmacists, travelled in 1960 to the UK to complete their studies at Queen's University in Belfast. My parents taught at the College of Medicine and my father was soon promoted to become the head of the chemistry department. Being a devoted scientist he got cancer from working with carcinogenic chemicals. My mother did all she could, but he died just before Christmas 1970, in London.

After his death, my mother (only 33) decided to study for her PhD and was accepted at Chelsea College of Science and Technology in London. But she wasn't very comfortable there. We moved several times before we eventually settled in Dennistoun, in Scotland. After she got her PhD we moved back to Iraq, late in 1975.

Life here, as I told you, is a mini hell. As you know, I teach English literature at Baghdad University. I think it helps my students, because it transports them to another culture, another life, and another world. The world of Jane Austen is so far removed from our daily terror of bombs and violence.

I hope that all is well at your end of the world. Iraqis here want to vote, and are looking forward to the day of the elections because they really do believe that it will make a difference. I'm not that optimistic, but still I hope that it will turn out right.

Hope to hear from you soon.

Best wishes

May

10.02.05

Election Day

Hello, May! It was good to hear from you again. Thanks for letting the programme contact you. I wasn't in that day, but I understand they were very happy. It looked like election day would be trouble. But the news on the actual day was quite inspiring; I couldn't believe how brave people were and that eight million voted. It always makes me think about people here, who are often too lazy or indifferent to vote. If only they knew what other people go through to do it!

Everything is fine here. In fact, I took some time off after the elec­tions to catch up with normal life. It was good to have a break - the news can be hard to escape when you're up close to it all day. I have two small kids so I only work part-time now, but sometimes it's hard to switch off.

Here in the UK everyone's caught up in the earth-shaking news that Prince Charles is to marry his girlfriend Camilla. News reporters are wondering whether the British public approves or not (given the enduring fascination with Diana). I never know whether to be reassured by stories like this: you think, 'Well the world can't be so bad after all.' But then you think, 'Do people really care about THIS?' Of course, we all follow Iraq on the news. But it's hard to imagine ordinary people caught up in the scenes on TV: I sometimes try to imagine what life would be like if the conditions in Baghdad were suddenly imposed on London.

Spring is nearly starting here and there are a few buds poking out of the soil. It's still cold but it feels like spring is on its way.

How is your teaching going? Are your students coping with the 'regime change'? I wonder what things are like now, compared to before the invasion.

Hope you are well.

Bee

17.02.05

Before and after

Hello, Bee

Things seem no better after the elections, but we do hope that the situation will improve. It's not so easy to try and foresee things; it's a bit early and there are conflicts among the winners themselves. We'll have to wait and see.

I was thinking about your questions and the comparison between 'Now' and 'Then'. You ask what it's like to teach at an Iraqi univer­sity. So let me try to describe it for you: classes start at 8.30 and continue to around 1.30. Before the invasion we used to have evening classes but now it's no longer safe, and public transport is not available after dark. I don't take classes before 10 a.m. because I adore my morning rituals and love to take my time when shower­ing and having breakfast and drying my hair (this is my most important part of the day). I hate to rush things or be in a hurry, no matter what. And if the situation requires hurrying (as it some­times does) my whole day is ruined. Besides, my brain doesn't function properly till after 10 a.m.

Teaching at the College of Education for Women is quite different from my other teaching experiences when I taught mixed-sex classes. As you know, our society is sort of restricted when it comes to mixing between the sexes. Many families do not approve, and think letting male and female students sit next to each other is like pouring petrol on fire. But if parents are more open-minded, they will send their girls to mixed colleges.

Young women in our college are treated like girls, and the depart­ment will send for the father or guardian if a student is absent or does not wear proper uniform. Sometimes a student who is very oppressed at home comes to college all covered up and wearing no make-up. Once she is inside she changes her clothes in the bathroom, puts on heavy make-up, removes her head cover and pulls her hair down. This is done without the knowledge of the family, and of course the procedure is reversed when it's time to go home.

Teachers have greater freedom, but there are limitations. In the old days before the invasion, trousers weren't accepted. I remember when I had to meet the former president of the university to sign my appointment letter. The man looked at me and said, 'Please don't think that I am old-fashioned, but trousers are not really acceptable because you are going to set an example to the female students.' I smiled at him and said cheerfully that I wouldn't be wearing them again, explaining, 'They have just been tailored to fit me and I thought that, since I was meeting you, I should wear nice clothes.' He laughed and said, 'You remind me of a teacher at medical college.' And then he gave my mother's name! I looked surprised and told him she was my mother, and he chuckled, saying, 'Now I know whom you take after.' (He was later assassi­nated, shot dead in his clinic shortly after the invasion.)

Will have to run to make dinner now.

Love

May