Wednesday, August 20, 2014
To My Dearest,
I’m so sorry that it’s been over a month since I’ve written to you. Somehow the time has just flown by more easily and happily than it has during any period since the Syrian Civil War began. That conflict – and the ever-worsening persecution of Christians – grinds on, but for the most part I’ve managed to give myself a break from the sadness by getting lost in an endless summer of love. So much has happened, with countless details comprising every moment, that I can’t possibly summarize it all for you, but I’ll try to touch on the highlights.
For the last six weeks or so, I’ve been going to the Hamptons to be with Julien every Thursday night through Monday night, after working out an arrangement with Michael that enabled me to handle my duties for the MCA remotely two days a week.
Towards the end of July, I again entrusted Julien to prevent me from falling to my death from high up – this time from the single-engine Cessna plane that he piloted, rather than his penthouse balcony. It was exhilarating and a bit nerve-racking at times, but I feel almost ready for skydiving at this point.
To add to the adventurous activities of this summer, he’s tried for the last few weeks to help me overcome my fear of driving by acting as my training wheels while we drove his Tesla together. Progress has been slow, and I haven’t made it out of the parking lot, but at least I got to the point where I’m no longer throwing up within ten minutes of getting in the driver’s seat and buckling my seat belt.
The last weekend of July, on Saturday night, Julien brought me to a high-profile, benefit dinner supporting a variety of Latino causes that co-organized the black-tie gala. Julien sat on the host committee for the event and even gave a stirring speech about the great progress that Hispanics have made in every part of U.S. society – in finance, politics, media, fashion, technology, the arts, and other domains. Later in the night, he also introduced the key note speaker. To my amusement, Julien was literally one of the top prizes at the charity auction (the winner was awarded a salsa dance with him on stage). He had offered that prize (and his support as a host and sponsor of the event) long before we had ever even met, but Julien made sure to bring me along and inform everyone that we were a couple. It was fun to go out together so dressed up – him in his dashing, dark tuxedo, and me in the elegant, Elie Tahari evening gown that he had bought for me just for the occasion. That night also represented another milestone in our relationship, because it was our first highly public date – we could actually see pictures of ourselves the next day in the Latino media that covered the event.
Two days after that magical evening, my calendar reminded me to call Mohammed Rajeh and his family to wish them a happy Eid al-Fitr. After they had shown such kindness in my time of greatest need, and had literally saved my life, they will always feel like family to me. It was the third time that I had spoken with them at the end of Ramadan, and calling them for the Muslim holiday has become a kind of annual tradition for me. This time, our call felt a bit happier –mainly because the siege of Homs had finally ended, so life was a little easier for Mohammed and his family. He was, of course, also happy to learn that Maria and I were doing well and safely in the United States, but saddened by the news that our uncle and younger brother had been killed. Another sorrowful moment during our call came when he told me about the current state of my hometown. “Inās, it’s better that you’re there – not just because you’re safer,” he explained. “But because you wouldn’t even recognize this place, after how much it’s been battered by the war. Much of it looks like some post-apocalyptic wasteland. But we will rebuild. What choice do we have?”
During the last few days of July, I helped the MCA move into its new office on West 109th Street. With Julien’s last donation, Michael decided to lease a dedicated space, with four full-time employees, who could help with fund-raising, accounting, project management, public relations, and other organizational issues. The new office will also make it possible to schedule smaller MCA meetings without checking on the availability of the university’s student center, although for large gatherings, we will still need the university’s resources.
Once the move was complete, the focus of my work at the MCA shifted from Syria to the situation in Northern Iraq, after ISIS had invaded the area in early August. ISIS fighters had massacred hundreds of Yazidi men and sexually enslaved their women; about seventy children died while fleeing, and about fifty thousand civilians were forced to seek refuge on Mount Sinjar after the Kurdish fighters protecting them fled the ISIS threat. The refugees were trapped on the mountain without food, water or medical care, facing starvation and dehydration.
When the crisis emerged, Michael insisted that the MCA focus all of its advocacy efforts on the dire situation there, even though the Yazidi religion is not a sect of Christianity. “They are a religious minority facing the same exact threat from Islamist militants that we Christians face, and we must stand with them,” he explained. I completely agreed with him and was glad that we were doing whatever we could to help. I was angry and disappointed at the world’s delayed reaction to the crisis, but finally, in the second week of August, the U.S. responded with airstrikes on ISIS units and convoys in the Sinjar area, and eventually began an operation to rescue the refugees, who were sustained by humanitarian airdrops of food and water by U.K. and U.S. forces.
Meanwhile, there was also the gut-wrenching news that ISIS terrorists had begun their promised killing of Christians in Mosul, and had started with younger victims. According to a few grisly reports, some children’s heads were placed on the top of poles in a city park.
Yesterday, the entire world was finally exposed, for the first time, to the horrific barbarity of ISIS, when the Islamist animals beheaded U.S. journalist James Foley. After a North American reporter fell victim to Islamist brutality, the savage crime has been broadcast nonstop for all to see (as if this were the first time that Islamists had beheaded an innocent person). The disproportionate coverage was almost offensive on some level – like this man was somehow more valuable and worthy of global attention because he’s from the U.S. and a member of the media. But perhaps there is some silver lining in this atrocity (and the special treatment that it has received from the press): this issue finally seems to be getting the attention that it deserves. On a personal level, seeing this awful incident – especially the image of him kneeling so helplessly on his knees in that orange jumpsuit – brought back terrible memories that quickly led to tears, as I recalled how mercilessly and senselessly my own family was slaughtered. When Julien tried to comfort me, he kept asking why I was reacting in such a strong way to this incident.
“What is it, Querida?” he asked, employing the Spanish term of endearment (which means, “beloved” or “darling”) that he had started using with me. “Tell me, Baby,” he said, stroking my hair and neck.
I shook my head, wiping away my tears as I tried to resist getting any deeper into the source of my distress, but I eventually relented and shared with him some new details about the massacre of my family. I told him that the James Foley news brought back horrific memories because my parents, older brother, and housekeeper were all beheaded by Islamist gunmen, and I had seen the macabre aftermath on a YouTube video made by the monsters.
Julien’s mouth was agape and he just remained speechless and horrified, as he tried to hold and comfort me.
Indeed, as blissful as much of my summer was, any temporary escape from world events that I managed to enjoy would quickly come to an end whenever world headlines focused on the Middle East or I resumed my work for the MCA. In addition, my awareness of Mideast atrocities sometimes brought back my nightmares, and at times seemed to affect Julien’s dreams as well. Unsurprisingly, we both had horrible dreams last night – probably because of the James Foley beheading.
But, in general – and to my pleasant surprise – the frequency of my nightmares has definitely diminished over this summer, and Julien has reported a similar improvement, which I have witnessed myself when sharing his bed. Apparently, we’re good for each other’s dreams!
Perhaps the most interesting news from the recent past happened last night, and that was what originally prompted me to write to you today, My Dearest, although I then got sidetracked with catching you up on the highlights of the last month. Anyway, yesterday, Julien and I went on our first double date with my sister and Michael. I was a little bit nervous about the whole thing, because I wasn’t sure how Michael and Julien would get along or how we would all relate as a group. But my fears were misplaced – I forgot that Michael no longer viewed Julien as a potential rival and had come to respect and appreciate everything that Julien had done for the cause. After we all sat down for some sumptuous Mideast dishes at a vegetarian restaurant that Julien had selected, I jokingly laid down the ground rules for our dinner conversation. “OK, it’s three Arab Christians against one Mexican Catholic, so let’s do our best not to talk about the Middle East for the next two hours.”
“Hey, and what if I want to talk about the Middle East for the next two hours?” Julien joked.
Somehow, in the end, we did manage to avoid discussing the Middle East for much of our dinner together, mainly by focusing on Maria’s experiences in her new city and what she and Michael had done together. At one point, when Maria started talking passionately about her love of music and her dream of getting into the Julliard School, Julien mentioned that he was actually friends with the head of admissions there and had made several sizable donations to the school in the past few years. He then very graciously offered to make an introduction, which predictably sent Maria into the clouds. Seeing my sister release such a radiant and unrestrained smile was definitely the best moment of our dinner and probably my whole week. I loved Julien even more after that.