I heard a new word on TV!

homicide bombing: (haw - me - side) n. Bombing with the intention to kill. Antonym: demolition bombing (mining, construction). Usage: "A homicide bombing in Baghdad killed 12."

There IS No Place Like Home, Right?

So I'm back in America, the "Great Satan" or the "Land of the Free", take your pick. But although I was gone for a very short time, all does not appear to be well in the home of the brave.

The first problem that, honestly, I've been seeing is the F.B.I. (OK, arrest me now for blogging what the F.B.I. does. I don't think it's illegal) Before I left, I heard about one or two "suspected terrorists" who were getting their medical degrees or something being interrogated. These days, it's my friends! (My friend said that her teenage rebel was proud of her that she finally got arrested for the first time) The Shi'a just don't seem to be on the "good list" any more. Apparently someone in the department misplaced the memo that says "Shi'a are archenemies of Al-Qaeda because Al-Qaeda kills them" and thinks that we are going to launch bombs. Sorry, it's Al-Qaeda (if Al-Qaeda even exists, which I have always doubted it does) that has nothing better to do except play chemistry; we have Molla Bassem to keep us busy.

The second problem is propaganda! It seems like every day someone at the local paper manages to pair "Islam" with words like "anger" and "rage" (as well as odd photo ops from Pakistan). I understand there are some serious issues brewing in the Islamic world, but do we ever hear about "Catholic rage"? "Buddhist rage?" "Hindu rage" for that matter? And the convert stories. Before I left, I had never ever heard of an American Muslim convert making national attention. Now, people are asking me if I knew the American Al-Qaeda guy who lived down the way.

And the third problem is, quite frankly, stares. Now, coming from Iran, I'm quite used to stares. EVERYONE stares in Iran. But since, in Iran, everyone stares at everyone, it's not a big deal. Here, everyone is staring at me! The first day I came back, this lady with an unplaceable foreign accent stomped up to me, chided, "Dress like an American," and then stomped away. This didn't happen before! Even after 9/11, the most that happened is that some lady gave me a hug in the grocery store and told me she hoped I was all right.

As they say, you can never go home again.

There's No Place Like Home

Although my experience in Qom hadn't been anything that I had expected, I felt sad as I made my last trip to Tehran. I thought about the friends I had met there who now would be like ghosts, locked behind an inaccessible border. I thought about Hazrat Ma'soumah, and how the 3rd of Sha'ban -- the birthday of Imam Husain -- had been the perfect day to say goodbye. And I also thought about the driver, and wondered if I should talk to him so he wouldn't fall asleep.

In no time, we reached the new, shining Imam Khomeini airport, where it seemed that all the goodwill in Iran was concentrated. A smiling (yes, smiling) lady waved me through customs, and the airline employee decided he did not need to charge me for both of my overweight suitcases. As I sat at a Starbucks-like coffee shop where people were eating "Islamic ham", I thought of the adage that people will rise to their surroundings, and wondered what would happen to morale in the rest of Iran if it were similarly prosperous.

Of course, the Imam Khomeini Airport was nothing compared to my first stop, Dubai. Not only was the Dubai-an desert infinitely more compelling than the dry, dead Qom desert, but, most importantly, in Dubai, they had FOOD. LOTS AND LOTS AND LOTS OF FOOD. Fruit juice in season. Fruit juice out of season. And consumer goods! All available at a moment's grasp -- if, that is, you weren't like me and weren't hauling around a wad of tomans.

I knew we were en route to the U.S., though, when the security kicked in. "Ma'am, we'll have to confiscate that toothpaste," a gruff, burly man said, and I prided myself on the fact that I was able to hide my chapstick. (So much for their newfound strict security) My real reception, however, was yet to come:

Dude in Uniform: Where're you coming from?
Amina: (standing in line marked "Citizens") Iran.
Dude: And?
Amina: Yeah, uh, Syria.
Dude: And?
Amina: Like, yeah, Lebanon--
Dude: (turning passport over) Is that Iraq, ma'am?

(Line progresses)

Elderly White Man with Big Glasses: Welcome home!
Amina: Thanks!
Elderly Man: That way.

(Amina waits as the majority of the passengers dispel, except for two other Shi'a ladies in hijab. Of course, no one would ever accuse anyone of religious profiiling)

Friendly Asian Lady: Ma'am, lift your suitcases onto the belt.
Amina: (looks around for some men who feel sorry for the woman travelling alone and feel the need to help in order to prove their masculinity. Unfortunately, they seem to all have been left behind in the Middle East) They're kind of heavy.
Friendly Lady: I can help. (They heave the overweight suitcases onto the conveyor belt) How long were you in Iran?
Amina: A few months.
Friendly Lady: But your visa is only for one month.
Amina: Really?
Friendly Lady: What were you doing in Iran, ma'am.
Amina: Studying.
Friendly Lady: (suspiciously) Religion?
Amina: No. Persian. I'm a Middle Eastern Studies major!
(Incidentally, that was the right answer. Amina's friend who answered "religion" got held 10 hours)
Friendly Lady: If you were studying Persian, then what are these books for?
Amina: It's history. I LOVE history. And cooking. Ever had "Zucchini, a Tomato, and a Potato"?
Friendly Lady: Turn on your camera please.
Amina: Can't.
Friendly Lady: Why not?
Amina: It's broken.
(Again, another right answer, since, as a rule, broken electronics do not get confiscated, and my friend who turned on her computer never got it back)
Friendly Lady: (making a piles of CD's labelled "Bassem Al-Karbala'i") What's on ALL of these CD's?
Amina: Songs.
Friendly Lady: (in slight disbelief) Songs.
(Incidentally, the third right answer, since my friend also lost all her CD's)
Amina: You know, poetry, singing. Traditional music.
Friendly Lady: I get it.
Amina: (thinking, "No you don't!")

(Meanwhile, across the way, another smaller but no less valuable pile of media is accumulating)

Guard: (holding up CD labelled "Bassem Al-Karbala'i") These are songs too?
Shi'a Lady: Uh, sure.
Guard: (squinting at CD) What is this "Thaqalayn"?
Shi'a Lady: Um.... (leaning over) Pssst! What's Thaqalayn?
Amina: A production company.
Shi'a Lady: Yeah, a production company....

(Meanwhile, Friendly Asian Lady has been busy piling something other than CD's onto the conveyor belt)

Amina: Hey! Can't you search those IN the suitcase?
Friendly Lady: Sorry, ma'am.
Amina: Just... put them under the X-ray machine or something. I mean, they're just, you know....
Friendly Lady: Is this a religious issue?
Amina: (glancing furtively at Shi'a youth, who fortunately has his back turned) It's embarrassing!
Friendly Lady: (obliges and puts the bag of unmentionables under the X-ray machine) All right. (conspiratorially) Did you MEET anyone in Iran?
(Yes, wallah, she said that)
Amina: I met LOTS of people. They're really friendly over there.
Friendly Lady: That's not--

(Friendly Lady begins pulling papers)

Friendly Lady: Does Imam Husain live in Iran?
Amina: No.
Friendly Lady: (unfolds a minute scrap of paper) Who is this "Mollana Nasser Biria"?
Amina: Um.... (Friendly Lady waits) Well....
Friendly Lady: (to Guard) Google this.
(Guard proceeds to Google "Mollana Nasser Biria" and reads about the Muslim Congress Conference)
Amina: (under her breath) Google him all you want, he's in Iran

(Meanwhile, the Shi'a Ladies are holding their own)

Big Man: You were in Iran.
Baby: Waaah!
Shi'a Lady #2: Yes.
Big Man: Why were you in Iran?
Toddler: Mommy!
Baby: Waah!

(And next to me)

Guard: (also pulling the papers) Who's this.
Shi'a Lady: My husband.
Guard: I've seen him before.
Shi'a Lady: I don't know.
Guard: Is he popular?
Shi'a Lady: I don't know.
Amina: (thinking, "She's GOOD.")

(Eventually, the Shi'a ladies and their children are waved away, and it's just me. Alone in America)

Guard: (still googling) Interesting, very interesting. (Closes window -- that's the computer window, mind you)
Friendly Lady: I guess you can go.
Amina: (eyes piles of formerly carefully packed stuff everywhere) Thanks.

So here I am! On the bright side, being unemployed and at home, I've had a lot of time to update my other websites. So be sure to check out the new material at:

http://englishnohas.tripod.com (see the stuff Friendly Lady read in my suitcase)
- and -
http://karbalaplay.tripod.com (my tribute to my true beloved)

Amina out!