My titles are getting a bit weird with the alliteration, but I can't help it ever since I saw 'always avoid alliteration'. It was so contradictory, that I have got in the habit of trying to come up with catchy titles. Weird.
Before I digress any further, I am going to have to chronicle the events of Monday, even though I have avoided it as a) I don't want to ever think badly of iraq. b) I don't want to ever be one of those whiney high pitched people. Ever.
Monday started off with high spirits. I enjoyed my trip to Baghdad University on Sunday, and was still giggling over some of the conversations I had with various students (revolved around euphemisms, half of which I didn't get at the time. I've been out of touch far too long). I went out on the roof, because it wasn't raining. I remember going to the edge of the roof and stretching my arm. I really wanted to reach the palm tree that looked like it was only a few millimeters away. I think I managed to stroke one withered leaf. I then got a call from my cousins. They had no water, and there were traffic ques all around their house. Something about pipes was all I really got. So I informed my mum, who then told grandad. Within minutes we were all running round filling water bottles. The plan was for my brother, uncle and dad to take the water. My uncle was in Baghdad centre, stuff in traffic. My brother was at his friends house, no doubt playing on the playstation. We couldn't get hold of either of them, so I volunteered to help take the water to my cousin's house.
Sitting at the back of the car, I listened to music, as the traffic seemed to engulf us in a pile of angry metal and horns. After 2 hours, my dad left the car to walk and see what all the traffic was about. Another hour passed until he returned with no news whatsoever, apart from an angry red face. Then we all got out of the car. Unfortunatley, a motorbike whizzed passed at that exact moment, and I was elbowed sharply in the back.
Then men completely in black with yashmaghs covering their faces suddenly appeared everywhere. They carried guns. No suprise there. Three quarters of the population carry weapons. Nevertheless, everyone immediatley quietened down. This was beginning to get quite eery. Luckily however (after an initial hour show of machoism at its best), one of these 'militiamen' ( I really have no idea who they were), laughed out loud. they said they were making sure no attacks took place in the traffic queues. I think one of them gave a lollipop to a baby that would just not shut up. After some time, we finally reached my cousin's home. To find that the front of the house was engulfed in water. The drainage pipe had burst. Why? I have no idea, and at this point I didn't care. the whole infrastructure of Iraq is at best shaky and unpredictable.
Now I have a bruise on my back and my shoes are soaked with weird stuff. They were good shoes. :( My bruised back is annoying me and making me as cranky as hell. I can't lean back on the sofa, and going to sleep today will be a laughable matter. I usually fall off beds, and I can't sleep on the floor, as its cold hard marble. I am contemplating being awake all night. I'll be able to watch sunrise.
In two days I'm going to Baquba. All i remember from my deceased grandparents from baquba is that my grandmother favoured my brother, and my grandfather favoured my little sister. I used to have competitions with the next door neighbour to see who could blow the biggest bubble. And I remember another neighbour. Current news of Baquba? One of the most volatile areas in Iraq.
And from what I remember, quite conservative. Unfortunatley, I have nothing conservative to wear.