I was invited to have lunch with Najla and her family. Khitam came also. Families who have very little still host generously. Her father continued to heap more and more on my plate, despite my protests. There is no way we could finish the food they set out. But I think that is the way here. I had dinner with friends here and finished my plate. It was just right. They immediately ordered a second meal, to avoid the shame of appearing tight-fisted hosts.
While having lunch I chatted with Khitam about her plans to learn English. They were not fully formed. I hijacked the guy who was interpreting for us, and got him to take us to the American University where, as chance would have it, the sister of my good friend teaches English. She soon sorted us out with course dates, and enrolled Khitam for a January start. We had a photograph in front of the Christmas tree; me, Khitam, Hoze, Najla and our driver for the day Zidan Khalaf. The difference between life in the camps and life at this university are profound. We are giving them a real chance for their lives to take a different path.
I stopped and said hello to this Iraqi motorcycle police man. Of course it could not possible stop at hello. I had to have tea, and so was directed to follow him to the nearest check point. He was a friendly guy; most of the security forces here are. Of course we are now connected on Insta...
