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To be honest with you, I was a bit stressed a week before entering Iraq. I heard so many different opinions about the controversial Arabic country, and of course, I got taught about it from a Western point of view, so imagine…
I was literally expecting the worst scenario. Da*esh, the terror**m threat, the ‘savage Arabic culture’ (they say). And me, the 36 years old Western white woman, non muslim, traveling in a car.
Again, I never listen to TV but to my gut and my heart. Otherwise, I would have never traveled Africa and the Middle East, and especially on my own.
One more time, I was so ready to deconstruct and to burn those prejudices and clichés produced in mass by TV, media in general, and people’s fears. I refuse their fears to be mine and to be spread, worldwide, just to damage a certain community even more. This game gets old and it needs to stop.
At the border between Kuwait and the Federal Government of Iraq, I already couldn’t believe my eyes. Although the paperwork was taking ages, all the officers were kind, calm, and very helpful with me.
On the first night, I got invited by Iraqis in the Southern city of Basrah; where I got unforgettable and interesting conversations, endless giggling, a SIM card and an ice cream for free. I think Iraqis are one of the most beautiful people, both physically and in their heart.
They taught me a lesson: to be careful about who is teaching you History. Some interpretations are poisonous. Go find it yourself, and travel as much as you can to seek truth.
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