Scorn of the women

Bah, Sadaam, Sadaam, Sadaam wailed the old woman.
"what is she saying about Sadaam" I ask my guide Ashkan
"she is cursing him, they are all cursing him"

I am standing in a scrubby bit of wasteland near the Iraq border where some of the bloodiest battles of the Iran/Iraq war occurred in the 80's. I had no intention of being at this memorial but my guide knew I was interested in the war and thought he would take me. When we go there it was just a desolate area with some broken old tanks, lots of rusting shrapnel, rusty barbed wire and a new mosque. There was no-one else there. About 5 minutes later 3 bus loads of the wives and daughters of the dead martyrs turned up. So I was invited to a tour of the place that their husbands and fathers died over 20 years ago. We walked through the trenches, visited their trench mosque, climbed around the barbed wire together. None of these women spoke english but I was welcomed, kissed and many prayers were said for me - they even sang me a song. I was choking back tears at the sad wailing songs they were singing and the photos of their loved ones that they showed me. Then they all wanted to take my photo and kiss me and tell me they loved me. So it was kind of a carnival mixed with a sad and sombre event. Not sure how to describe it. But so far it's been the real stand out event of the trip - a random encounter of the most wonderful kind.

One woman was telling me (through Ashkan - but I could guess what she was saying through the tone of her voice and my scrappy farsi) that Iran will always be strong and that "is Israel attacks we will fight them" - but the other women around her didn't look so sure about that - they've seen enough tragedy and death in their lives already.

Oh and at the end we all put scorn on Sadaam I helped curse him as well.