DPA Article: Interminable Arabian nights as the sun goes down in Baghdad

By Kadhem al-Atabi
Dec 15, 2006, 17:04 GMT

Baghdad - When the sun goes down over Baghdad, it's a signal for the monotony of the interminable winter evenings to begin.

Although relieved that they and their families have survived another day, people feel the walls closing in as they are confined to their homes for the evening. For security reasons, nobody goes calling after 5 p.m. in winter.

'After sunset comes boredom and misery,' says Mustafa Hussein, a student who previously spent many of his evenings playing pool with friends or at a tea house. Like most of his contemporaries, the 25- year-old dreams only of emigration.

Many young men now spend their evenings on the street as voluntary guards for the neighbourhood's citizen watch.

They are out with their guns on the streets, which they block with tree trunks and junk. The communicate with each other by mobile phone and if a stranger is seen, they whistle a warning. Despite their efforts, almost nobody dares go out after dark, even to visit a neighbour.

Instead the whole family sits down and watches satellite television. The television is powered by a generator shared by several neighbours. The normal electricity supply is for six hours a day.

Baghdad's cinemas, which used to show a large number of action films, have all closed. Piles of rubbish accumulate outside the theatre's doors. The National Theatre by day is the only place where you can still see a performance. They are not however well-attended, as large congregations of people are vulnerable to attack.

Restaurants in the rich suburb of Mansur are all closed in the evening. Also deserted are the tourist restaurants and fish places along the River Tigris, opposite the Green Zone, the area closed off by the US and the Iraqi government.

'Baghdad used to be so lively in the evenings, today it is just ruled by fear' sighs Walid Chalid, 59, who retired early.

He remembers the time before the war with nostalgia. 'Arab and foreign visitors went walking in the evenings. Those times won't be back for a long time.'

Shopowner Basil Mahdi, 64, also daydreams about the 'good old days'. For fear of criminal gangs and extremists, he closes his shop at sunset.

To his eyes, Baghdad is like a woman forced to 'swap her beautiful dress for rags.'