My contribution to the ebook: Home Stories Connecting Us All





Love After Enmity 

The minus 31-degree weather shocked me as I stepped out of the Edmonton International Airport on Dec 1. 1998. My excitement at immigrating quickly turned to disappointment. I had never imagined it could be this cold. The coldest I had ever felt in Baghdad was perhaps plus 10. My extra heavy winter jacket didn’t help at all—it froze against my skin, crackling, when I bent my arms. This intense cold stabbed my bones with sharp pins. A shroud of snow covered everything.
My first unpleasant experience in Edmonton.
More challenges followed as I settled into the city: my inability to pursue my career as a writer or to utilize my skills, working at random jobs, and the difficulty of getting my university degree in mass media recognized. My struggle to muster another language at the age of 28 made things worse.  With all those challenges, I found myself in no mood and with no time to do my writing projects or to read Arabic literary books, as I had done regularly before. Furthermore, these various difficulties lead to failure to seek better living prospects somewhere else. While attending school to learn English, I worked a part time job, one that as a highly skilled university graduate, I would never have done in Baghdad. Though I realized my situation to be a necessary sacrifice to enjoy important human necessities of safety and freedom of speech, I felt trapped. I felt destiny attacking me. I saw the city as an enemy.
Two things changed my feelings to Edmonton.
The first occurred when I got married. My wife, an Iraqi, helped me overcome my homesickness. Equally important, she encouraged me to resume writing in Arabic. Since then, I’ve published articles and short stories through Arabic media outlets. The second event was the birth of my oldest son, Uruk, named after the first city in ancient Mesopotamia. Becoming a family man began to bond me to the city. Finally, I was planting roots here, I felt. I started to look at the city with new eyes.
I had never, for example, thought I would enjoy playing in the snow. But suddenly, when my son one winter asked me, “Dad, can we build a snow man?”  I joyfully said, “Yes, let’s do it.”  We went to the backyard, and rolled snow into two balls. Using a carrot, I made a nose for the snow man. “We did it, papa!” my son shouted. I experienced even further joy when I took my son tobogganing. We sped down the hill on a foamy round disk, and Uruk shrieked, “We’re  flying, dad. We’ve grown wings!”
Gradually, as my homesickness faded, I wrote more in Arabic. By 2012, I had written four books, two of which I published in Jordan. I submitted other articles and writings to Arabic print and online publications.
My involvement in literary culture helped to strengthen further my bond to Edmonton, and gave me a growing sense of belonging in the Canadian society. I’ve now read, in English, books by Margret Attwood, Alice Munroe, Haruki Murakami, Paul Auster, and others. These readings lead me to try and translate some English texts into Arabic. One of the biggest Iraqi newspapers published one of my translations. I felt proud to have introduced the poetry of Erin Moure, one of the great Canadian poets, to an Arabic audience.  
I’ve also, because of the readings, developed an interest in translating my own works into English, and to do some writing directly in this language. Despite the challenges, I’ve found writing in English to be interesting and beneficial. Through support of the writers in residents at University of Alberta, the Edmonton Public Library, and some local writers, I’ve significantly improved my English writing skills, to the extent that one of my works has been published in The Malahat Review.
As all these accomplishments made me feel I was winning the battle against alienation and other challenges, my hate for the city gradually turned to love. This changing relationship with Edmonton reminded me of an Iraqi proverb: “Love comes after enmity”. 
My participation in literary events around the city have further helped me develop this love:  events such as LetFest festival, Edmonton story Slam, and the Mill Woods Artist Collective’s activities. Additionally, I was lucky enough to gain a spot in the Writers in Exile program for 2013/2014, and to receive an Edmonton Arts Council grant that helped me write a book.
Now I feel Edmonton is home. I have a wonderful wife, three adorable Edmonton-born kids, and a lovely cat. I own a home. I work in a highly qualified job. I’m as content as I feel when I’ve cleared the pathway of snow all the way to my door!
 Nineteen years ago, I wouldn’t imagine that I could ever love Edmonton. Sure, it still gets snow-covered in winter, but I don’t see the white stuff to be a shroud as I did when I first arrived that December night in 1998.


Edited by Tololwa Mollel
Assisted by Scott Sabo
Book design and cover photography
by Stephanie Simpson