1989 My first trip to Iraq. The taste of apricot. “Never say Saddam’s name.”

Chapters in this book

1. Frontmatter i
2. Foreword v
3. Translator’s Note ix
4. 1989 My first trip to Iraq. The taste of apricot. “Never say Saddam’s name.” 1
5. 1992 The summer ends in Baghdad. When I return to France, my friends tell me all about their vacations at the beach. 17
6. 1995 If you really appreciate someone, you say “A khaliq ala rassi,” or “I’ll put you on my head.” 33
7. 1995 A question from the disillusioned teenager I’ve become: Why was I born in France instead of Iraq? 49
8. 2003 This is how I write my first news stories. Embedded with family going about their daily routines. 65
9. 2004–2005 The IED: inside the house, the foundation shakes. Out on the street, a blast of hot air in your face. 81
10. 2005–2006 I often hang out at the neighborhood barbershop. It’s the ideal place to hear the latest news and rumors 97
11. 2006 My Iraq is, above all, a bunch of smells. Sand, watermelon, masgouf, cardamom tea, sourdough rolls 113
12. 2006–2007 Syria, a country at peace. A stable country back then. A country where the media had no worries. A wonderful country 129
13. 2007–2001 One evening, I summon the courage to tell them: “I’m an Iraqi.” They’re curious and flood me with questions 145
14. 2011 Goodbye America! 161
15. Timeline 163
16. Acknowledgments 164