The Hijab, The Music, and Iraqi Pickled Veggies
September 27, 2009
Eid al Fitr Potluck
First Unitarian Church, Des Moines, IA
(Explore the pictures of food and festivities at my Flickr)
Iraqi, mostly unknown, food piled up on my plate at the Eid al Fitr Potluck on September 27, 2009
First bite of that pickled veggie, and my mouth twisted. My squinted eyes tried to take a closer look at what it was. Well, it was sort of chewy; actually, more like sticky – rubber sticky. And it was way too vinegary. Which wasn’t unexpected, since it was pickled. But the whole thing was flooded in vinegar – and it was so difficult to bite into. So, despite how much I love sour stuff, I gave up. This particular eggplant-like vegetable just didn’t suit my taste. I raked the rest of it off my plate, thinking of million hungry kids in the Middle East who would die to eat the food. And I swallowed the guilt.
Then, I looked over at the serving tables and thought of my initial experience with Iraqi cuisine. So far, only one disappointment; everything else was great. And I was willing to try more, as long as they were vegetarian friendly. Yet, my impression wasn’t really set on the food. Instead, I was transfixed to the sound of Arabic chatting, the melody of Arabic pop music, and the dynamic in the room. As I looked around, I realized I was the only Southeast Asian, sitting among Arabic-speaking population. And as much as I’d like to talk to them, I couldn’t; Arabic was too foreign to me. I felt left out.
Finally, my Iranian-American friend introduced me to those sitting around the table: a woman wearing hijab was holding someone’s baby, talking intently. Next were two Iraqis – mother and daughter – who used to live in the Kurdish area north of Iraq and had limited knowledge of Farsi. Sitting next to them, though, was an Iraqi who had lived in Iran for four years, so speaking Farsi was her second nature. On my right, a hijab-less lady was sitting quietly, but there was a big smile on her face. Later, I learned that the baby in the hijab-wearing lady’s embrace was hers.
And that the baby wasn’t just any baby.
She was Yara Abdelhasen - “believed to be the first of a new generation of U.S. citizens in Iowa parented by current Iraqi war refugees.” You can read the Des Moines Register about Yara here. And she was one of the reasons why this Eid al Fitr Potluck happens: to celebrate her birth, along with the end of Ramadan and the receive of new 9 Homes in 9 Days townhouse by one Iraqi family.
As I surveyed to whole room, I realized the differences within the Iraqis. Some women wore hijab. Some didn’t. Some spoke languages other than Arabic but not English. While some spoke English very well. And most importantly, some used to be quite well-off. In Iraq, they used to live a normal middle class life. The used to send their children to school, drove to work, and had dinner together like normal Americans.
But that was before their homes were bombed to shred.
The three musicians performed Iraqi sounds.
And now they were here, being equal as refugees. They watched the traditional music performance featuring the Oud, a guitar-like instrument, and the Domback, an instrument similar to a drum. They sang along. They clapped. Their eyes gleamed with reminiscence – the days when they could meet up with friends on the bustling streets of Baghdad. Some Iraqi men stood up and started Debka dancing. The rhythm went on as Iraqi women watched from the seats; they weren’t supposed to dance with men they didn’t know in public.
I sensed a tense cultural atmosphere. Many unspoken behaviours were expected of me, making me nervous. Because, the last thing I wanted to do was to break the rules. Apart from the language barrier, my anxiety was another reason why I didn’t get as much information about the people as I wanted to. But it was well worth it. I hoped that the Iraqi refugees would be able to maintain their unique heritage in this new environment. I hoped that their children would grow up to be an integrated part of the U.S. society, but would still hold on to their roots. I hoped that, one day, there would be no more Iraqi refugees, and those who come to the U.S. would come because they want to – not because they have to.
مع السلامة Ma’ Alsalam
Peace Out
- Sam
Popularity: 61% [?]
This is really cool Sam. I wish I could have tried some of the foods! How did you hear about this? Were you invited, or was it open to the public? It had to have been a really cool experience. Your part about Yara Abdelhasen was pretty neat. I guess I didn’t realize there were even a lot of Iraqi war refugees in the Des Moines area. Are there a lot in Iowa?
Interestingly, this post Ramadan potluck was held at the First Unitarian Church on Bell Ave. I’m glad you love learning about ethnic foods, because I do to. But I’ve never heard of Iraqi restaurants in Des Moines. Perhaps, it’s because the majority of them are refugees with no financial capability to start their own business. I’ve learned that a lot of them are working in pork-packaging plant. That’s sick. But I think they have no choice. I don’t think they could choose to be in New York or Iowa either. The regufee agencies, which are prevalent in Des Moines, brought them here to start over a new life. If you are interested in more ethnic foods, I could totally survey around and bring you some delish scoops
I’m not aware that there’s another Persian student here at Drake beside someone who I already knows. Are you guys roommates? I have a feeling that she’s born in the U.S., right?
I love learning about ethnic foods. Where in Iowa did you have the opportunity to experience this? Are there Iraqi restaurants in Des Moines? I never thought of Des Moines as being a city that attracts Iraqi refugees. Is there a reason they come to Des Moines? Very interesting.
Despite the fact that we are waging a war in their country, I just realized that I know absolutely nothing about Iraqis. This was so interesting to read This would be something really cool to do for one of our personal experience essays coming up.
My best friend here is Persian (she speaks Farsi), so it was interesting to see the differences between she and the people you dined with. Some of them wore hijab; she wears BCBG. That says a lot about the departure from their native cultures some of these refugees may experience. Maybe Yara will be the first in her family to wear Abercrombie.
Thank you Emily. I heard about this Potluck from Robert Anderson from Iraqi Refugee Support Project. We met during the Ribbon Cutting Ceremony for 9 Homes 9 Days project. He helped one Iraqi family who has now moved into one of those homes. And I think it was quite open to public in a way that, if you know about the Potluck, you are welcomed to come. And the organization really wants to engage people. They are trying to help these Iraqis who, back in Iraq, worked in a professional fields. They’ve got skills but are in need of support to start over in the U.S. I think there were at least 50 Iraqis at that Potluck, and those are with this organization alone. I know that there are refugees coming in from Iraq every month. So, there are probably quite a lot.