The most dramatic difference I noticed between the Iraqi family and the American family was the solidarity. Aside from my parents and my father’s mother, I had little to no contact with my family at all. The tribe also seems to act as a sort of an enormous, extended family, which amazes me. On one hand, the pressure to conform to the wishes of so many people must be a great deal heavier than the pressure to conform to the wishes of two parents, but on the other hand I feel myself longing for that sense of being part of a greater whole that is willing to take action for you and takes an interest in you simply because you are a member. There is great freedom in our culture, but great anonymity and isolation. Any difficulties I may have faced in my life pale in compasion to hers, and I am in awe of her for coming through it all.
I have to admit, I had had an optimistic outlook on the war, and thought that the United States was making significant contributions to the country and its welfare. But after reading the accounts of a young woman actually living in Iraq, I feel shaken and somewhat ashamed of the actions of this country and its attitudes toward the Iraqis. I have read many historical accounts of how war seems to justify acts of brutality, but I had hoped that humanity had advanced past that. It seems not, and that infuriates me.
