PLC blog post about Ahmad

I just wrote a PLC blog post about Ahmad, a boy we took to surgery last year. Rather than me copy and paste it all here, you can click the link above or follow the URL below to see it!

http://preemptivelove.org/2010/07/01/soccer-balls-and-staircases-reflecting-a-renewed-childhood/

Love from Iraq,

Alex

Beautiful Photos from Iraq!

We have two extremely talented photographers here with us- Joshua Gigliotti (staff) and Lydia Bullock (intern). Please check out their work on PLC's Flickr Page to see powerful images of life in Iraq!

Some Samples:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/buyshoessavelives/

Dr. Aso

Dr. Aso Faeq (on left) explaining diagnosis of a type of congenital heart defect using an ECHO (a type of ultrasound). Photo by Lydia Bullock.

The past few days of my internship have placed me in the offices of Dr. Aso Faeq. As a partner to PLC and an invaluable member of this Coalition, Dr. Aso is the only pediatric cardiologist serving a large area of Iraq, and the only pediatric cardiologist with interventional training in an even greater portion of the country. Given his position, Dr. Aso would already have an extensive patient list- but add to that the high incidence of congenital heart disease in Iraq, and it is not surprising that every time we have visited him there has been a waiting room overflowing with mothers and fathers holding and comforting their sick kids, whispering assurance and love into their ears.

These visits are heartbreaking, humbling, challenging and encouraging.

It is heartbreaking to realize how rampant CHD is in Iraq. The entire time Dr. Aso met with me and other interns he was seeing patient after patient, diagnosing ASD, TGA, Tetrology of Fallot, and other congenital heart defects one after another. It is heartbreaking to know that the best course Dr. Aso can pursue is often a procedure performed to extend a kid’s life a few years so that they can wait for an improbable surgery down the line.

It is humbling to see how Dr. Aso makes these diagnoses using very limited, mostly donated equipment in a public hospital with little institutional support. It is humbling to see him treat more patients in a day than many doctors do in a week, without any extra compensation, all the while with joy and a smile on his face.

It is challenging, as a student pursuing a career in medicine, to see such stark disparities in healthcare between western countries and the region where much of “western” medicine originated. It is challenging to hear this brilliant doctor humbly state that all he wants is the opportunity for more, better training so he can go further in treating his patients. (As an Iraqi, Dr. Aso was recently denied a visa to attend a training meeting of the Association for European Pediatric Cardiology, of which he is a member.)

And although I may leave Dr. Aso’s office heartbroken or humbled or challenged (or all three), I always leave his office encouraged as well. It is encouraging to know that, through his partnership with PLC, Dr. Aso can send families from his office to ours so that they may have a chance at surgery. It is encouraging to realize that even though Dr. Aso may be denied visas to travel and get more advanced training, we can bring the training to him and other local doctors with Remedy Missions. Most of all, it is encouraging to know that “long-term, local solutions” isn’t just a slogan. Long-term, local solutions are people like Dr. Aso.

Short post- Kurdish phrases

This is just a little something to keep your interest until I can post some real updates. It's almost the weekend here, so I hope to have 2 new updates up by Saturday, hopefully one of them tonight!

But first, some of my favorite Kurdish phrases. I'll write the close-to-literal translation, how they are used, and what (I think) they sound like.

Disclaimer: I'm going off memory and limited knowledge so some of this might not be perfectly accurate!

("x" is like a throaty kh sound)

-Go with God (how you usually say goodbye) pronounced "xua hafees"

-I would die/give my life for you (said to a friend) pronounced "kur banabum"

-You are like seven brothers to me (said to a friend) pronounced "howbra" <- my favorite

-You are the flower of my garden (said to a friend) pronounced "gUli baxem"

-You are in my eyes/you have my eyes (said for pretty much anything- Thank you, you're welcome, goodbye) pronounced "serchow"

-There's a jackal in every valley (supposedly this is a Kurdish saying in some places- but we have only received confused stares in response) pronounced "chimbeh checku nahbeh"

I've got some more work to finish up here at the office- but if I learn or remember any more I'll try to add them! Be on the lookout for a post about our friend and local pediatric cardiologist Dr. Aso soon!

Go with God,

Alex

16/3/1988 - This is not a fun post.

Halabja Memorial

16 Stones/3 meters across/19.88 meters tall.

16/3/1988

The day of the Halabja Genocide- the 16th of March, 1988.

The white writing around the walls are the names of those murdered during or missing since the attack:

Each name signifies a human being whose life was deemed worthless by Saddam Hussein's Ba'athist party. Human beings who were brutally murdered by a gruesome mixture of chemical weapons (most of which were supplied by western companies, the majority from Germany and the United States- as well as a $5 billion loan to Hussein granted by Christopher Drogoul, a banker based in Atlanta). For more information on this, see Shuurman p 99-108 and the related appendices and citations. But I'm here to talk about people, not politics.

[Graphic language ahead]

These husbands, wives, sons, daughters, brothers, and sisters did not know that the first bombs dropped on Halabja that day were simply meant to break windows and doors. They did not know that these "normal" bombs were only dropped to ensure that the chemical weapons dropped soon after would be able to enter all of the homes and businesses and shops, so that there was no shelter from the Mustard Gas, Sarin, VX, and Tabun. To ensure that as many people as possible would receive lethal doses accompanied by blistering of the skin or eyes or lungs or mouth, burning of those same organs, inability to breathe, vomiting, paralysis until strangulation, bleeding from the mouth or nose or eyes, or more likely, some combination of the above.

This is a personal blog, and many of you are reading this because you want to know more about what is going on with me here, so I am not writing this as another piece on the politics of Halabja, or to talk about speculations on how much the US government under Bush knew about Saddam's actions when they supported them during this period, or to talk about the known connections of many US and European based companies with the Ba'athists' chemical weapons program. However, in order to talk about Halabja, you must realize the horror of the genocide committed there, and the horror of genocide is never completely separate from the politics of genocide.

I am now going to be completely honest: as I walked up to the Halabja Memorial, I felt excited in a selfish (and now looking back- shameful) way. I told myself I would try to be emotionally prepared, but instead I prepared myself to take in information so that I could make better arguments and present my interesting closer-to-first-hand-than-you knowledge. It took about 10 minutes and an image of a man covering his child in an attempt to protect her from an invisible airborne death for me to realize how little I understood. It only took another 10 seconds and a few images of little boys and girls and their moms and dads lying in the dirt with bloody, blistered faces for me to really see the horror that I had originally only come to look at. The distinction is huge. It's the difference between saying "that's so terrible" and saying absolutely nothing because you realize how arrogant it would be to try to put a suffering you can't understand into words.

We were taken around the memorial by one of the few remaining survivors of the gas attacks. But survivor does not mean he is not a victim. In addition to the emotional devastation of losing his entire family in a day, being presumed dead, and waking up on a truck piled with dead bodies wearing his own burial scarf, he and his wife have tried to have three children- all three were stillborn. He told us his story, how he was taken to Iran and treated and taken care of there. Taking a picture with this man as we left the memorial was... humbling, to say the least.

Hearing this man's story firsthand, as well as the stories of others and seeing so many images from the Halabja massacre is definitely something I will be bringing home with me. And it may indeed come up in an argument or discussion and I may actually use those experiences to try to prove some point sometime. I hope, however, that I do it with a different mindset. I have written before about seeing the people behind the statistics and facts and arguments. I didn't leave for Halabja ready and trying to do that, but it happened. And I'm glad it did.

I tried to snap a shot of the sign as we walked out of one dark section of the memorial- it didn't turn out well and wouldn't be readable if even the top was in English- but I can tell you what it said:

"Life and victory for all nations. Death for all kinds of racism."

The Halabja genocide overseen by "Chemical Ali" under Saddam Hussein is only the most well known of the atrocities carried out against the Kurds during the genocidal "Al-Anfal" campaign. I encourage you to research and read and see more about it yourself.

I am now going to go use my non-blistered, non-burnt, healthy lungs and legs and eyes that I thank God for to go play football with Kurdish friends.

Much love from Iraqi Kurdistan,

Alex

Teaching, Football, etc.

This week has been so great. I started teaching at a local language institute here on Monday and have had two classes. I have one group of about 15 students who range in age from 15-40s. We have been having a great time so far, and I've even learned all of their names! It's definitely a learning curve for me as well, and teaching English as a second language when you don't speak the first language certainly has its challenges. But the students really want to learn, and I think it is going to be a great summer class.

On Monday night, Preston, Landon (an american friend here for a few days) and I went down to the football (soccer) courts and played some late night matches! They start playing well after the sun has gone down here, since it's way to hot to play in the day. We played from 10pm 'till 11pm with a group of local Iraqi/Kurdish guys! There were 9 of them and 3 of us, so we split up and played some 6v6. The courts are concrete with a short concrete wall all the way around each and a huge chain-link fence rising from that. There is also an unbelievable amount of dust. Five minutes into the game, my clothes, my face, my lips, my shoes, and even my LUNGS were coated with dust. It definitely takes some adjusting! The court is even slick from the layer of dust covering it. Nevertheless, it was a great time, and I actually held my own! Preston is a defender on his college soccer team, and Landon use to play competitively, so I think we shocked them with how good these Amerîkî could be at football!

We played again last night, this time it was Joshua Gigs, Preston, Landon, and I, and we ended up playing against a group that included the guy who ran the courts! They also played their 5 against our 4 the whole time! We held them off for a while, but eventually ran out of gas against their numbers advantage. I love playing here though, it is competitive but at the same time no one really keeps score or gets upset about anything. Almost the opposite of pick-up basketball back in the States. We were also invited back to play this Thursday and every Monday at 10pm! I love how easy it is to make friends here.


In the next few minutes we will be living our house here in Sulaymaniyah to head to Halabja. Halabja is the site of the largest chemical attack on the Kurds: a genocide committed by Saddam Hussein, and the largest chemical attack on a civilian population in the history of the world. I am trying to get myself emotionally prepared, although I'm sure I will not be ready to see the memorials and the graves. I'm very glad we get to do this. I think it is extremely important, as someone working primarily with Kurds, to see this huge and terrible event in their history. Although this will in no way allow me to know what it feels like to be a survivor of multiple genocides committed against my people, I think seeing the place will at least give me a little better picture than simply knowing some facts.

We are preparing to leave now, so I'm signing off. I'll try to post when I get back!

Much love from Iraqi Kurdistan,

Alex

While eating a chickpea sandwich

Yesterday I walked down from the office to a little vendor on the street and got a chickpea sandwich for ~40 cents. (And no, I don't mean falafel. I know what falafel is. This was not ground and fried. It was just cooked chickpeas in a sandwich.) It was while eating this delicious chickpea sandwich that I realized how much I am falling in love with this place.

But before I continue, a little housekeeping.

Most names of people/places I post in this and all other blogs will probably be pseudonyms. I will also not be able to be extremely specific about where I am going all the time or where I have been. This is probably a bit overcautious given how safe I have felt every second I have been here, but it is something I have been asked to do.

I can't give a perfect item-by-item list of why I am starting to love this place so much. As I was eating that sandwich, watching the crazy driving on the main street and looking around at a beautiful scene of Suly surrounded by mountains, I started to reflect. There are certainly differences, and even things that, from my cultural perspective, don't make a lot of sense. And there are so many things that I have not even begun to scratch the surface of. To act like I understand this place after (how long has it been... 4, 5 days?) would be incredibly arrogant. Still, I feel like the more time I spend in Suly the better it gets.

When you get on a bus here, you just pass up your money, and as it makes its way up the bus people change it out and give it to the driver, and your change finds its way back to you. Who would tap the random guy/gal in front of them on a MARTA bus in Atlanta and hand them a wad of bills? I don't think I would. I feel like there is just so much more of a collective spirit here. Your relationships are more important than your time. And it is so easy to make friends! Some of the interns and I went to a party last night, and I had not been through the door for ten seconds before I had met three new Kurdish friends. We sat and laughed as we tried to speak Kurglish with each other, and joked and hugged and got really, really confused. A huge dinner was served, consisting of a few different rice dishes, a Kurdish favorite that is something wrapped in grape leaves (I have no idea what is inside), bananas, oranges, a golfball size plum-like fruit, a delicious pudding/banana dish, cupcakes, and later a regular cake. The last piece of cake came to our table and was handed to me, and I told the Kurdish guy next to me "no, you take it," and he did the same and passed it to the guy next to him, and round and round it went for about 3 minutes until everyone had been offered it 2-3 times, before someone finally accepted it. Mind you, this cake was delicious, and I guarantee you almost everyone at that table wanted it, but each wanted the next guy to have it more. After hanging out a bit more, someone put on some Kurdish music and everyone started dancing! The Kurdish dance is a circle-type dance where everyone holds hands or links arms, and dances in a spinning circle led by someone twirling a scarf. Someone will occasionally shout some noise along with the beat and people will repeat it- YEE-AH! ... YEE-AH! ... YEE-AH! It was an amazing time. It is experiences and thoughts like these that continue to draw me in to this place.

To give an update of the last couple days that I haven't posted: on Tuesday we finally got our last two interns, Lydia and Lauren, and headed to the bazaar in two groups to show them the same first experience that we had. After the bazaar we walked to the huge park nearby, and Ben, Lydia, and I went to Zara marked to pick up some pizza (Yes, there is pizza in Kurdistan. Yes, it is better than the pizza in Italy.) and sharwma (a type of shaved meat or chicken) for dinner. We ate this next to a large pond in the park, and enjoyed the late afternoon air. Six o'clock through the rest of the night here feels amazing. The next day we had our first full office day. This started with dividing up tasks and setting personal goals. We have a very diverse group of interns with different skills, so this was fairly simple. Daniel, Esther, and Lauren are the writing team. They are overseeing a lot of different projects including the PLC blog, the weekly newsletter, and the year end review. Sophie is working on preparing for the fall tour (a huge task). Preston is working both towards our children's banquet, and on the standardization and diversification of the Klash. Lydia is our extremely talented intern photographer. Joshua is taking care of all things video (with a little editing help from Sophie). Claire is in charge of getting the ball rolling on developing "Self Help Groups" for families with CHD kids here. Ben is our fearless leader and is helping on the SHGs and the Klash standardization.

Although we have divided the tasks up, there will be plenty of teamwork involved. My primary task is maintaining/updating/using the PLC database of kids, working to organize sending kids to Turkey, and helping determine what kids will be part of the upcoming Remedy Mission. I will also be helping Jess with finances a bit and working towards gauging the interest in and possibly helping to implement an inter-organization database of kids in all the different organizations/hospitals/listings. I am super excited about my task as it is going to allow me to spend time speaking to doctors, seeing hospitals and offices, and really experiencing a lot of the medical side of PLC's work.

Speaking of hospitals, Preston, Lydia, and I went with Awara yesterday to the local heart clinic to check out some equipment for the Remedy Mission. If you haven't heard yet, the Remedy Mission is an incredible opportunity for both the kids and the community here in Iraq- we will be bringing a highly experienced surgical team in to perform 30 complex pediatric heart surgeries and train local doctors from Suly and other places throughout the area. We are doing everything over here to be ready to make a huge impact this summer through our Remedy Mission, but we still need more support! If you want to know more about it, check out this link or email me at alex@preemptivelove.org. Back to the hospital- We met with Dr. Jhafar, a surgeon, and Dr. Mohammed, an anesthesiologist. Dr. Mohammed took us into the ICU where we photographed and got information about their three ventilators (machines that keep people breathing during surgery). After contacting the leader of our Remedy Mission team, we were relieved to hear that with a few extra pieces of equipment he will be able to use these machines! This is great news as each piece of equipment we can use here is one less the Remedy Team has to figure out how to bring.

Today is Friday, which is our day off, so I'm headed out into the town! I hope that this post finds everyone healthy, happy, and full of love.

Xua hafîz.

Alex