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2009-06-02, 11:10 p.m.
I spoke to my father’s parents today.
On the phone of course…
It felt awkward, uncomfortable.
At first I was like ‘I don’t want to talk to them’ when my mother handed me the phone, but after I talked to them, I felt so sad.
They are stuck in a shithole of a country, with no clean water, no food, no electricity and they can’t get out of there.
It makes me feel guilty.
I have nothing to feel guilty about, that is what I’m trying to tell myself.
But it isn’t working.
I started to cry about two hours ago.
I felt so sad, I felt so sorry for them.
I wish I could help in some way but I can’t.
I wonder how it must feel for them to talk to someone in a completely different situation, on the other side of the world…I wonder if they hate me.
I am the only one who hasn’t seen them for over 20 years.
I got married, and the last thing I want to do is to travel to Iraq and see them.
It’s dangerous, risky, in so many ways.
I just don’t want to take that risk.
I wonder if they hate me for it.
I don’t think I’m better than them, but maybe that is what they think about me.
Nothing got better after the invasion.
Only worse.
But nobody thinks about the people.
The whole world sees the Iraqi people as vermin.
They are not welcome anywhere, they can’t leave the country, but they can’t stay either.
I could write about this for hours but I won’t.
It’s hopeless anyway.
So never mind.
Everything happens for a reason, right?
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