Little Fashion Idiot and Unidentified Gays.

This is a story I am going to write about which tells quite a lot about Iraqi youth.
When we arrived in Karbala we couldn’t believe that this sacred city is so dirty. Dust and sand plastic bags, cans, car wracks and ugly hairstyles are dominating the streets of the city where Imam Husain was martyred. My mother, my two aunties, my 3 cousins, my sister and my 2 brothers and me got of the rusty old minibus we rented from Bagdad. We went to the pavement and waited for the hungry taxi drivers to stop and take us to the house of my aunt. 30 minutes later we found a less greedy taxi driver with his friend in another car that uploaded the bags and helped squeezing the kids in the back seats. After a very bumpy ride and many angry words thrown out of the driver’s window, we stopped in front of an extremely dirty house. The men uploaded and I tried to help but was pushed aside. While my aunty and my mother fought about who is going to pay I tumbled inside the house and realised how dirty I got. My Abaya was very wet and I smelled of a very sticky and orange drink called Miranda. After taking off my Abaya I realised how wet I was! The light brown skirt was dark brown and sticking everywhere. My white shirt was transparent and my scarf was like a second skin. I couldn’t change in the bedroom because my brother and my cousins were in there playing around and fighting. I went to the bathroom and threw all my clothes in the corner and ran to the shower head. I turned the water on and waited. And waited. Where was the water? After about 20 minutes the first drops came and I felt the cold water on my skin. I was the happiest girl after showering. After wearing my clean Abaya I left the shower with a scarf on my head because my cousins were there and they were about 2 years older than me and non-mahrams (men who are not my brothers, father, uncles or granddads). My mother told me to get dressed to go to the holy shrines. When I stepped into the living room I had a little shock. My eldest cousin who was 20 years old was ready dressed. He comes from the emirates and is a big show off. Just in front of us Europeans he doesn’t dear o show off. Even if I find no personality advantages in Europeans they are considered to be the high society of Iraq.
He was dressed in a fitting red checked shirt unbuttoned with a black very tight t-shirt underneath with funky prints and a very fashionable tight yeans with hundreds of little holes. He had black shiny shoed and chains on his wrist and a pendant hanging from his neck. He was looking like a very hot god of a fashion magazine with the perfect lightly skin and long light brown hair waving down his neck and back. He looked perfect. If I wouldn’t prefer girls I would have had a big crush on him, but god thanks I am lesbian! He looked like a god next to my brother who was wearing a simple light blue buttoned shirt and black canvas cotton trousers. He didn’t look like a European guy. He looked very Iraqi.
After we were all dressed and ready for the heart of Karbala we left the house and walked down a little street that leads into the main road.
Just before we reached the main road a group of male youths came towards us and I and my sister hid behind the backs of my mother and aunties because the guys were whistling and giving us disgusting glances. I didn’t really feel offended and hiding is really stupid but my mother wouldn’t want me to be seen by a horde of sex hungry youths. But I and my sister didn’t know that my cousin was their target. They circled him and my brother and started shouting nasty flirty words. My brother defended him and made clear that he doesn’t mind using his fists. The funny thing was the guys didn’t mind being beaten. They kept touching my cousin and he was confused. Why do they love being beaten? Why do they call him names normal guys would use for a girl? I knew what game they were playing. The guys were aroused by my cousin’s looks. This is a wide spread phenomena in some parts in Iraq. Some minutes later the guys were beaten up and my cousin and brother angry.
Well… what does this mean?
Some guys in Iraq are gay even though confronted they would do anything to prove the opposite. Why does this great community not accept gays as normal parts of the community? I think it’s the fact that Iraq was denied any contact to the outer world for a very long time. Since Saddam fell and Iraqis found the internet interesting, the Iraqis found about homosexuality and were confronted with it. Other countries had time to develop a gay friendly behaviour. But Iraq was confronted with homosexuality all of a sudden after years of darkness. So the guys were gay or just teasing but didn’t know that this behaviour would be called gay in here… give Iraq some time and you would see gays housing there… you never know.