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Edited on Thu Sep-29-05 08:00 AM by Skidmore
to shut her big mouth so she can hear. I lived in Iran for 10 years, six of them during the Iran-Iraq war. The people who make the choice to wage war are never the ones to suffer during it. War brings more than bombed buildings and death. It shatters lives. You live in constant fear and with a sense that you have no control over anything beyond the moment you live in. Sometimes that fear is numbing.
One night, I fell literally crashed from exhaustion. This was during the time that Iraq was lobbing missiles in to Tehran--sometimes several times a night. Everytime the air raid siren would go off it would mean bundling the children up to take them down to shelter in the basement away from the windows. Sometimes I wonder at the false sense of nervous security and control it gave to shelter that way. In the next neighborhood, a missile had gone through the second floor of one house and dropped to go through the basement of the house next door, killing all the people who had sheltered there. Well, I digress. We had made it through till 10 pm without a missile attack or an air raid, and we all went off to bed after checking my 3 yr old and 8 year old one more time. I was sleeping deeply--no dreams--the sleep of the sleep-deprived. Suddenly, there was a huge explosion nearby. I went from deep sleep to on my feet without fully waking. My legs collapsed under me and I hit the floor. All I could think of was I needed to get the kids to the basement but I couldn't get my legs to cooperate. My mind could not make the connection to my legs to tell them to move. I remember lifting my knees with my hands and willing myself to move.
After we returned to the US, we were overwhelmed by the choices in the stores here after experiencing many years in a society where everything was rationed due to embargos against Iran. I am American by birth and went to Iran as an adult. I still had culture shock. Things had changed so much and people here seemed to be so shallow and to engage in so much rushing about for things that were unimportant. We also came back with PTSD, and my little guy would scream in his sleep--he would panic everytime he saw someone in fatigues (and they were fashionable for teens to wear when we came back so fatigues were everywhere). I got a job and during my first week at work the city tested the civil defense siren. I was on my feet, at the window of my boss' office, searching the sky for planes, and panicking because my kids were across town and I couldn't get them to shelter. My boss, fortunately, realized what was going on with me and helped me to calm my fears.
This was a long time ago--in the 80s, but I still occasionally am visited at night by stress dreams. Yeah, I lived on the receiving end of my nation's foreign policy. I hope we can find viable alternatives to oil, and I pray that this nation learns that war is not the answer or the means by which it meets the nation's needs.
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