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54 6 Gardens, Houses, and Feasts No one really knows the heart of Baghdad unless he has intimately entered into the exquisitely lovely customs that prevailed. It was my rare privilege while in Baghdad to enjoy many a garden party, to share the joys of the various feasts of the different communities, to be entertained with gracious hospitality in all kinds of houses, and to witness many a beautiful and charming wedding. In this partly desert land a garden is sometimes described as fardaws (paradise). A garden means so much more in this part of the world where the desert almost engulfs us, and where the sun with open-faced fierceness glares down upon the parched earth throughout the long summer and the long summer days. A garden suggests the cool shadiness of trees: palm trees with waving fronds, orange trees with fragrant blossoms and golden fruits, ruddy pomegranates, apricots, banana and fig trees—a greenness healing to the eye and one that seems greener than in lands of ever-present beauty. A garden also suggests roses and flowers and leisure, that choice offering of the East, and a clean retreat from the dust and grime, from pressing duties and vexing problems. No wonder the voice sweetens when it utters the word “garden.” Before the recent expansion of Baghdad, the inhabitants were con- fined to a relatively small area. The houses were huddled together, one against the other; the streets were narrow, and the only breathing spaces were the open courts within the houses. Hence, a garden by the side of the Tigris or on the outskirts of the city was a delightful place to go to; and to it the people went frequently and joyously. Some of my most vivid memories are of hours spent leisurely and carefree in one of these lovely gardens: sometimes enclosed within high Gardens, Houses, and Feasts • 55 mud walls which shut out the barren desert waste; sometimes by the side of the great river. Maybe I went to a garden to breakfast with a friend on a feast day, or to an afternoon tea, or to a meeting of the Girls Club. All of these I recall as I do a fairy tale: bewitchingly delightful. Of all the gardens in which I was entertained, that of the minister of Education was possibly the most unique and enjoyable. We were very happy to go there because we liked not only the garden but the minister as well. We found Abdul Hussain Chalabi, with whom we had frequent communications, a kindly man; and as he held this portfolio a few times, our official relationship with him covered a number of years. He was a prominent Shiah Muslim, a status which also added to the popularity of his garden. Rarely, if ever, was he without guests in the cool of the evening. “In the garden in the cool of the evening” is the biblical phrase. How natural and proper it is to use the Genesis expression! Was it hot in Mesopotamia then as now, and was everything outside the Garden of Eden desert? Did Adam and Eve realize only after they were driven out of it that it actually had been paradise, the land of bliss? Was the word for garden coined when the gates of Eden closed on the disobedient pair? One evening we were sitting by the Persian pool in the garden of the minister of Education. A Persian pool is designed to mirror beauty. It is usually rectangular in shape, shallow, and often tiled; its smooth waters reflect the loveliness that surrounds it. To this rare garden—with its fountains and the pool reflecting beauty, with its many flowers, its glorious roses, its sunken beds, its symmetrical walks—came nightly the friends of the minister, most of whom being from the nearby holy city of the Shiah, Kadhimain. This particular evening after we had sipped coffee from little finjans (glass cups), the men asked me about the women in America. I have often wondered how the conversation drifted in that direction, for these men presumably did not have the slightest intention of changing their attitude toward women. Anyway, there was a chance to shock them, and so I launched into the subject on a large scale and in high spirits. They enjoyed it as a diversion; and as I met different ones afterward, I was greeted with the question, “When will you lecture again?” [3.22...

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