No more picnics, no more cinema in Baghdad

BAGHDAD: Television, DVDs and computer games -- that's entertainment in war-torn Baghdad. That is, if you're lucky.

Even the simple pleasure of sharing dinner with friends and relatives has fallen victim to fear of sectarian death squads and, more recently, by a strictly enforced 8:00 pm to 6:00 am curfew.

Picnics by the Tigris, a drive to Fallujah for a kebab or a swim in the lake, nights out at the theatre or movies, meeting friends at street cafes -- all now just memories blurred by car bombs, mortar fire and late night gunfire.   

Visits to restaurants by night -- out; clubs where belly dancers would entertain until two or three o'clock in the morning -- closed; rooftop discos in big hotels -- in ruins.   
An evening cruise on the Tigris that could turn into an all-night party -- forget it. Meeting at the club on a balmy evening for drinks with mates -- once upon a time maybe.   
"We are now like camels carrying a heavy load and eating dry grass," said Ahmed al-Zahrawi, a 25-year-old teacher now working as a driver to support his family.   
"There is no outside entertainment at all in Baghdad. Long before the curfew comes into effect we are all in our homes, watching television -- if we have electricity," he said.   
"We have no generator at home so when the power goes we just go to bed," added Zahrawi, who lives with his parents and three adolescent siblings.

Favourite programmes are action and adventure movies -- "lots of bang bang" -- he said.

Roadside money changer Abdul Mohammed Hassan said his favourite weekend pastime used to be taking his wife and four children to Jadinia park on the banks of the Tigris for a picnic.

"That is all gone," said the 45-year-old former government employee now trying to make ends meet through black market foreign exchange deals and selling old notes bearing the image of executed dictator Saddam Hussein.

"No more picnics, no more cinema, no more theatre. There is no longer any entertainment in Baghdad. Many of the clubs are now occupied by the military," he added. 

He makes sure he and his family are safely inside the house by 4:00 pm "and we don't leave again till the morning". 

While his children watch cartoons and movies on television, he plays computer games, his favourites being those with lot of action.

"The more violence the better," he added with a smile, showing scars on his arm he said were wounds received when he was a soldier fighting against Iranian forces during the reign of Saddam.   

Hassan Farhan sorrowfully said his second name -- which in Arabic means "happy" -- no longer applies.   

"I am sad all the time," said Farhan, a security guard outside the once-popular Rasheed cinema complex, now lying in ruins.   

"We used to visit friends and relatives at night, or go to the movies. Now all that is finished," said the 47-year-old, his eyes bloodshot from standing guard for 48 hours at a stretch.   

"Now we just watch television at night."   

Those shuttered behind their doors when the curfew begins and streets empty of all but the security forces and emergency workers are spoiled for choice when it comes to television.   

Over the past three years some 30 stations have sprung up, and for those with satellite dishes -- according to vendors at least seven million across Iraq -- the number of channels available runs into the hundreds.   

Favourites, as to be expected, are Arabic channels offering fare from across the Middle East, with Egyptian movies and series the most popular.   

For those able to afford DVD players, latest films -- usually pirated and sold at less than a dollar each -- offer at least some alternative to an outing to the cinema or theatre.   
For adolescents deprived of discos and a night out with friends, computer games offer some escapism from the brutal reality of being trapped in a city riven by sectarian strife.   

But DVD players, computers and even games are within the reach of those in the middle to upper income brackets only -- as are the generators needed to run them due to the frequent power cuts in the city.   

For most households, the option remains television -- or reading a book.   

"Mostly we just sleep at night. There is not much else to do," said money changer Hassan.