Author Manal Omar
I just finished reading Manal Omar's memoir Barefoot in Baghdad, a page-turner. The style of writing is simple yet sophisticated. Omar cleverly narrates events through the lens of her complex and multi-layered identities: Muslim, Palestinian, American, feminist, humanitarian. In a non-judgmental manner, she touches upon many issues concerning Iraqi women from different walks of life. Her bravery and passion for Iraq are manifested throughout the book. A nascent and stubborn hero who refuses to turn her back on women in need, Omar narrates her stories with intellectual zest and so much heart. We corresponded recently about her time in Iraq and the writing of the book.

You mentioned the one-thousand-night hero Kahramana and Kahramana's Fountain at the beginning of your book. Is that a landmark in Baghdad? What about Jawad Salim's The Epic of Liberty Monument in Tahrir Square? Did it not resonate with you as much as Kahraman?

Baghdad's Kahramana FountainThe monument that really reached out to me was Kahramana and Sharazade! I loved the fact that there were two powerful women statues in the middle of the street. At first my title for the book was Shehrazade Waits for Dawn—because of the powerful meaning that the statue of Sharazade had for me. Below are the original thoughts behind the title—we later decided to change it to reflect the Iraqi saying "walk barefoot and the thorns will hurt you." The Tahrir square statue did not speak so much to me, mainly because it doesn't reflect the same feminine power as the other two statues did.

Tahrir Square in BaghdadScheherazade Waits for Dawn is a title that stems from one of my conversations with Iraqi women. The phrase was taught to me during a late-night gathering with women leaders from different organizations. Cathartically, it seemed, we were sharing the horror stories each of us had witnessed over the last few years, offering one another words of comfort and consolation. As the night began to yield to dawn, we realized that even our stories had naturally shifted toward talk of optimism and hope.

Barefoot in Baghdad 2One of the women noted this and said, "And so Scheherazade waits for dawn." The other women nodded in agreement, but the phrase was unfamiliar to me. I knew the legend of Scheherazade, the heroine from A Thousand and One Nights. She was the beautiful daughter of the royal vizier who volunteered to wed the murderous king Shahryar. The king would take a different bride to bed each night and, not trusting the virtue of women, have his brides executed the following dawn. Scheherazade's courage, wisdom, and intellect were well known throughout the Middle East. Each night she would tell the king a different tale, saving the climax for just before dawn, thus holding the king enthralled and delaying her execution for the thousand and one nights. By the end of the story the king was no longer a wrathful, murderous misogynist. The morals and lessons of Scheherazade's tales had taught him to be a wise and just king, and the story of Scheherazade had demonstrated the feminine power to transform a kingdom.

I knew she was an important figure in Iraq. In fact, in the middle of Abu Nawas, a street running parallel to the Tigris River, there is a statue of Scheherazade and her king, Shahryar. It is among my favorite statues in Iraq. The statue in Abu Nawas is one of the few portrayals of the legendary queen standing while the king is lying down. In most depictions, she is kneeling at his bedside. Even the statue bears testimony to Scheherazade's strength and resilience. In the five years after the invasion of Iraq, during the chaos of war and looting, the statue of Scheherazade was unharmed. The figure of Shahryar, however, suffered the loss of a limb when looters sawed off a hand.

"We are like Scheherazade," my friend explained. "We are sacrificing ourselves for our country, but every night we do not know what the dawn will bring. Will it be salvation or execution? Only time will tell."

Scheherazade Waits for Dawn is not a story of the war in Iraq. This is the story of the women in Iraq who are standing at the cross roads every dawn.

You traveled with a convoy of SUVs from Amman to Baghdad with the founder of Women for Women International, Zainab Salbi. You painted a very emotionally-charged and mentorial relationship with her. How did you cultivate your relationship further with Zainab? Can you elaborate on what Zainab Salbi means to you?