Iraqi's Try to Build Lives in Jordan

Some pleasant memories of Essam Ali’s Iraqi homeland still seep into his mind. He remembers the summer of 1985, for instance, when, surrounded by forests and friends, he trained in mime and pantomime in Mosul, Iraq, from dusk until dawn. Throughout that summer, until September, he seldom returned to his home in Baghdad.

Now he never returns. He does not own a home. His life is defined by his status as a temporary migrant here, his days unplanned, his meals sporadic, his cellphone on standby, waiting to hear if he is eligible for resettlement.“The first mime play I directed, wrote and performed in Jordan was called ‘The Thief and the Butterfly’ against the backdrop of Tchaikovsky’s music,” Mr. Ali, 48, recalled as he sat recently in a cold and cramped art studio in Amman.

Millions of Iraqis fled the violence after the Iraq war began in 2003 and most have landed in Jordan, Syria or other countries in the region. There are nearly 450,000 Iraqis in Jordan, according to a survey conducted by the Norwegian research institute Fafo in 2007, though the United Nations cites a lower number.“It’s very important for us to know the number of Iraqis that are vulnerable, that are known to us, and that number is around 32,000,” said Imran Riza, the United Nations refugee agency representative in Jordan.

What is certain is that for many Iraqis, Jordan has become a temporary home as they wait to return to Iraq, seek asylum in a third country, or pay their way to find a more permanent residence. But many Iraqis here are doing a lot more than waiting. And although they came from all sectors of society and many different economic backgrounds, a particular group — artists, musicians, actors, fashion designers, writers and intellectuals — have achieved a certain prominence in Jordan, participating in art exhibitions or getting parts in films shot here, including “The Hurt Locker,” which won six Academy Awards last year.

“You needed of course actors who can play secondary roles with the Iraqi accent and people to tell them that this looks like an Iraqi city,” said Nada Doumani, communication and culture manager for the Royal Film Commission.

Over the years, Iraqis have participated in workshops and there have been Iraqi film screenings, she said. “We also worked with Mohamed al-Daradji who made the film ‘Son of Babylon.’ We did a workshop for young Iraqis and Jordanians,” she said, “and they worked on one film and Daradji was their mentor.” Mr. Daraji, a Dutch-Iraqi director, made “Son of Babylon” last year.

Lutfiya al-Dulaimi, an Iraqi novelist, arrived in Jordan in 2006 after receiving death threats from extremists in Iraq. She considers Amman her home for now. Her recently published book “Women Removed,” translated into English by John Peate, is a novel in which the central character suffers from a brutal attack and home invasion in Baghdad.

The author writes about the character’s pain of exile: “Distance wiped away cities and people from our minds. There was no trace of Baghdad here, no trace of its smells and its sufferings, nothing. A little piece of paper had changed us from fugitive citizens into refugees abroad, meeting one another in the winds of fear, splintered and dispersed in frosty cities.”

Hind Khaled began receiving death threats and fled to Jordan in 2006 after she worked as a television presenter and journalist. Today, she is a television presenter for Al Sharqiya, an Iraqi-based television station in Amman.“I’ve done shows about tourism in Jordan and I’ve covered Iraqi refugee issues here,” she said. “Even if I go somewhere far from here, one day I will return to Baghdad,” Ms. Khaled said. “I will return to its neighborhoods and streets to tell the world about its people.”

The Orfali art gallery in Amman is known to feature Iraqi artists and was established by an Iraqi art collector, Inaam Orfali. When the gallery was first established in 1993, said Rana Snober, its chief executive and daughter of Ms. Orfali, Jordanians were not too enthusiastic about abstract art, but she has seen them become more appreciative.

“They wanted something they could see and relate to and that was realistic paintings, but now they respect the paintings,” she said.Michael Toubbeh, a Jordanian, says he owns four Iraqi paintings and visits galleries that regularly feature Iraqi artists. “As a student of art you can’t ignore Iraqi artists,” he said, “and I think the fact that you have close access to them is a benefit for us in Jordan.”

There are also Iraqis who have been in Jordan prior to the 2003, like Hana Sadiq, whose home is filled with hundreds of modern robes and jewelry she designed. “When I first came to Jordan there was no interest in such designs but now things have changed,” explained Ms. Sadiq, who is preparing to show her spring collection in April. While she spoke, Buthaina Masarweh, a Jordanian, tried on several dresses, settling on a white one with colorful embroidery.

“I saw a friend wearing one of Hana’s robes, and I told my fiancé that I will wear one of her dresses on my wedding day,” she explained.So in the end, some artists have found galleries, some actors have found roles and some writers have found peace.Others like Mr. Ali still struggle to find an audience or appreciation for their particular talent.

“When I first came to Jordan, mime was a new and unrecognized art, so I held workshops for university students and I trained several actors,” he said. Although he performed for local audiences, he is now taking temporary jobs doing voice-over roles for the post-Saddam Iraq and advertisements for Iraqi television. “I am an artist and I don’t know how to be anything else,” he said.

By RANA F. SWEIS, The New York Times
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