Writings by Cathy Breen

Affectionate greetings to you all. I arrived four days ago from the Middle East and find myself caught as it were between two worlds. I feel like I left one family there in order to return to family here. Despite the starkly different realities, both places seem equally familiar. In ways hard to describe, life there seems easier.

Amman, Jordan
October 22, 2008

I learned that among the things he was forced to leave behind was a large feather pillow his mother had made about seventy years ago. She had gathered the feathers herself. Also left behind were some embroidery pieces she had made as well as a couple of books and other items. When his wife died of cancer over 28 years ago, this gentle man had raised his three children alone. I met his only daughter recently in Syria. She and her husband are among the refugee population there longing to join family in a safe place where they can work and raise their two small daughters. I thought of an embroidered pillow case cover my mother gave me some years back. It is something I cherish imagining how she had laid her head on it as a child. Maybe, I told him, I could retrieve some of the things left behind with a neighbor.

Amman, Jordan
October 6, 2008

I wasn’t prepared for the extent of impoverishment I would see in Syria. Arriving by bus just a few hours after a suicide car bomb took the lives of at least 17 civilians in Damascus, I learned about the attack from the taxi driver who took me from the bus stop to the neighborhood where I was to meet my translator. Although I understood the Arabic word for “explosion,” it was only later that I would get more details.

Amman, Jordan
August 24, 2008

Dear Friends,

Yesterday afternoon as I got into a public taxi, or “service” as they are called here, a friendly driver greeted me in English, something very rare. This type of taxi carries four passengers, and it seems that people are reluctant to be heard speaking English. I had ridden in this driver’s taxi before, and the other time he felt free as well to address me in English. His words yesterday however took me completely by surprise. “Did you hear about the boats arriving in Gaza!” he said excitedly. He was referring to the Free Gaza campaign which I too have been following with great interest. We have friends among the 45 or so human rights activists on the two boats which, despite multiple threats, set sail from Cyprus to break the siege and end the blockade of Gaza and its 1.5 million occupants.

Amman, Jordan
Aug 10, 2008

Dear Friends,

“How can the walls ever come down?” was the question I put to three Iraqi friends. Late yesterday afternoon I went next door to ask a neighbor if we could watch Iraqi TV news together. Would he mind translating for me? This young friend often helps me with Arabic, and I had brought my notebook along. We were joined by his brother and another Iraqi friend who will be returning to Baghdad soon. Moslem and Christians, we sat together. The walls I was referring to are the concrete barricades which have been constructed by the coalition forces throughout all of Baghdad. These walls seal off and separate entire communities.

Amman, Jordan
July 30, 2008

Dear Friends,

Yesterday I received the following message from friends in Baghdad.

“Our Prime Minister visited the pope a few days ago and invited him to visit Iraq and persuade Christian Iraqis to return back to Iraq…. though Iraq is still a hotbed of crime and conspiracy. Many Iraqis in Syria and Jordan have returned either because their savings were depleted or they were not lucky enough to be picked by the UNHCR. Until now I cannot understand the criteria they are using to select the refugees. The conditions here are still bad, with no services at all. We even boil the drinking water to make sure it is safe while we heard that in the Green zone they import distilled water from Kuwait to use for washing and showers.”

July 27,2008
Amman, Jordan

Dear Friends,

“Think about it for a second. What would you do if your child was kidnapped? If you were in a war-torn country where the police couldn’t help you? To many, if not most parents, the answer of course would be—anything, anything. Including paying ransom to those who were holding their child even if the kidnappers were terrorists. Over the past five years for many Iraqis, that choice has been a very grim reality.” (Dan Rather Reports on ‘The High Price of Ransom,” HDNet TV, July 1, 2008)

Last week in a meeting at the United Nations High Commission for Refugees (UNHCR) in Amman, I was asked if I had seen the above program. I had not, but was later able to get a printout of the text. I have it before me as I write you. Why is it that I am not surprised to read that one in every four Iraqis seeking help from the UNHCR has had a family member kidnapped? And yet seeing this number in print creates a knot in my stomach, and a feeling of nausea. One in four, imagine. One in four.

May 25, 2008

Dear Friends,

Affectionate greetings to you. It is a beautiful sunny Sunday here in New York City. Since my return to the states in early December of 2007, the time has been filled primarily with the activities of community life. We have had several deaths of beloved folks at the Catholic Worker, but we also await with great anticipation the birth of a new baby any day now! There have been visits to the Philadelphia area to see my own family, three trips to Washington, D.C. for meetings, and speaking engagements mostly in the northeast.

As I write you, a great portion of the floor in my room is covered with bags of used clothing, clothing which will hopefully find its way to needy Iraqi refugees in Jordan and Syria. Yes, their situation has become so desperate that they have no money to pay rent let alone buy clothing. I have tried to raise money at some of the speaking events to wire to Iraqis in Jordan so that they won’t have to return to Iraq. The plight of Iraqi refugees has worsened as increasing numbers have reached the end of their funds and with no legal residency are unable to work.

February 28, 2008

Dear Friends,

I began this letter the other day on a bus returning from a two-day trip to D.C. where Maryknoll’s Social Concerns office had set up meetings with various groups to address the Iraqi refugee crisis. This was the third trip to D.C. since my return to the states in early December, part of an ongoing strategizing with Maryknoll colleagues as to how we might make real the desperate situation of Iraqi refugees. We’ve been able to convey concrete concerns and questions to a Congressperson with an entry to Homeland Security, to the Congressional Progressive Caucus, to the US Conference of Catholic Bishops, and others.

On this particular trip I was not traveling alone. I was accompanied by a dear Iraqi friend who was also going to D.C., and it was wonderful to have so many hours to catch up with each other. While on the bus a member of his family in Baghdad called on his cell phone, bringing their reality there close to us. Security has improved we heard due to the fact that the city is divided up with countless checkpoints and barriers. “It is like being in prison” he said.

Amman, Jordan
November 25, 2007

Recent media reports depict large numbers of Iraqis returning to their country. “Thousands of Iraqis living in Syria have headed back home in the past weeks.” (Jordan Times, Feb. 23,2007) Some reports attribute this to improved security in Iraq. While the death rate and incidence of suicide bombs has decreased in recent weeks and months—most welcomed news—it seems that necessity is what is driving Iraqis home. As has long been the case in Jordan, visas for Iraqis in Syria are not being renewed and their money has run out. Returning Iraqis have also said they would prefer to die with dignity in their own country, rather than face the contempt and humiliation they feel in Jordan and Syria.