March 1999

Shammi is organizing a queer Assyrian retreat at a cabin at the Russian River, up north. We don't anticipate a huge turnout, of course, but we do look forward to a handful of us from various parts of California spending a relaxing weekend in the woods, getting to know one another.

Sham!
It's been a lovely day. In the early morning I went for a run on the beautiful trails near our home and thought very much about the retreat. I'm truly excited about it and think it will be really good for us, even if it's just a few of us.
I've had this idea that I'm going to pick up some sand from a local mill, votive candles, and paper bags and build luminaries for the deck of the cabin. It'll make for an intimate and comfortable mood. Martha S. would be proud.
I've sent Johnny in L.A. an e-mail about the retreat but have not heard from him, so you'll definitely have to take this horse by the bridle and invite him yourself. I don't think he's going to respond to me at all. I'm pretty sure he's mad at me for setting a boundary so early on in our friendship.
Much love, khati,
E.

Khouni,
Martha Stewart has nothing on you. She's not even Assyrian for god's sake! I enjoyed the recount of your day and think the luminaries idea is a fabulous one. The house and the deck are fairly large so there's definitely space for quite a few of them. Thank you for making them. Also, I spoke to Nadia and she's feeling totally over-committed right now and doesn't want to be involved in any further planning for this thing. What this means is that if you have any further ideas as to the theme of the retreat or activities, please e-mail me and we'll see if we can generate something. If we don't come up with anything we can just decide when we're all there together. I will talk to you later and thanks for your support on this. I really, really need it. Love. Khata Shammi.

Okay.
You have plenty to do without having to decide on activities and entertainment. I have one word for you, sister, Pictionary! And cards, and conversation, and eating together which has always been a connecting force for us Assyrians. Sunflower seeds, walks in the woods, and laughter, and Sheikhani!
The mere fact that we're all going to be on the same acre at one time is a feat in itself. Don't feel pressured to entertain us just because you initiated this whole thing.
We are grateful to you as it is.
By the way, positive news: Johnny finally wrote back a gracious message, which was touching considering how struck I had been by his previous, angrier e-mail. I accept that we offend each other, particularly we Assyrians, being so sensitive and all, but why can't we be wounded politely, expressively? Why don't we just say to each other, "I was hurt by what you wrote," without extreme emotional retaliation? Blah, blah, blah…
So, all we need is Assyrian music, and Jell-O shots. Oops, did I just say Jell-O shots? Really Sham!
Thanks again for all you're doing.
E.

Khouni,
The seeds, Pictionary, food, and music all sound good enough for me. You're right, it will flow together somehow and we'll make it up as we go. Either that or we'll all lose our minds and become violent! You think the Donner Party was bad? We're talking queer Assyrians, honey.
I talked to Tracy, Paul's partner, and he said he's really enjoyed speaking with you and looks forward to meeting you. Both him and Paul sound really neat.
I'm glad things ended up happily-ever-after with Johnny. Is he coming? Are you picking him up from the airport? Do you actually have the game Pictionary?
This e-mailing is really working for me, Emil.
I love you. See you soon.
Shammi

Oh Sham,
You're forgetting the Donner Party was white. What did they know about culinary triumphs and cannibalism? We are Assyrian, we marinate, we ferment, we pickle, we sumac, and we curry!
As you know, I have been talking to Paul and Tracy, trying to coordinate us. I think I have this right: Paul is Assyrian, born here, and grew up in Chicago. At one point he went to a monastery in the hopes of becoming a ghasha. But realizing he is gay thwarted that vision. Tracy is black, from New York, kind of formal. They met as social workers in the same office in San Francisco. And yes, Sham, they do sound neat, charming, and interesting.
I also can't wait to see your girlfriend Laura. I've been waiting patiently amidst the crowds, at gatherings, to get closer to her. She is an oddity to me. strange, ethereal, long, slender. A sylph gliding through the people. I want to know her.
E.

Khouni,
I loved your Assyrian version of the Donner Party. We need to write something together, Emil. Maybe a short film. I think the possibilities are endless. We can talk more at the gathering. I'm going to be moving in with Laura in Berkeley starting Sunday for a two-week trial period. You can reach me there if you need to.
I'm looking forward to you getting to know Laura better.
I think we're up to sixteen people so far!
I love you and will see you soon.
Shammi

Hi Tracy and Paul,
My number again is… The voice on the machine is that of my gay-friendly aunt, so feel free to leave me a message. I ought to be home Tuesday night, and certainly on Thursday.
Anyway, I'm excited to hear that others are as enthusiastic about the retreat as I am. This is pretty big for us queer Assyrians because I think that for the most part being gay and lesbian and Assyrian has meant being so isolated for so long, and disconnected. Until recently, and even now in the Middle East, many of us felt like we were the only queer Assyrians on the planet.
So, thank you for being an essential part of the fulfillment of my own dream to meet and interact with others who share my experience.
E.

Khouni,
I'm with you on having dancing boys and girls, and fire, and total debauchery. Are you thinking of parading your hot bod for the rest of us repressed Assyrians? I'm hoping the answer is yes.
Yes, bring the Turkish coffee. I've got the cups.
Your e-mails are a treat. Keep sending them. Four days and counting until A-Day.
Love you,
Shammi

Can you believe I only have one journal entry for all of March? It's unheard of, Sham, and yet it feels so liberating. How much I love a break from anything and anyone no matter how deep my love for that thing or person.
Linda, the curator of All Out There, the Assyrian gay and lesbian site, sends me excited e-mails from L.A. in which she admits she is shy and feeling anxious about meeting all of us. I reassured Linda that her shyness is classic, a strength, and promised that we will not bite.
I wonder why shy people are always told to emerge from their "shells"? I say, What shell? Be who and what you are! In the States especially we are bombarded with this tall interpersonal criterion that to be successful one must be loud, ambitious, outspoken, extravagant, flamboyant.
But enough of all that.
I feel comfortable, Sham. Really comfy with life. It's strange, but I know this time of repose only comes when I have endured a period of craziness. I emerge quietly. Sometimes I wonder if this is who I am, actually, or if I suffer from something treatable. Depression maybe. Have you any thoughts on this?
Either way, this is who I am at the moment…
Keep me posted.
Love.
E.

S,
The sadness I knew would follow me home after the weekend is at its apex. I miss everyone and wish I could go back in time and do it again, this time slower, much slower. I think of everyone. I hear your voices. See your smiling faces. I continue to process the events, the conversations. It amazes me that although we all come from hurt we were able to meet and welcome each other with so much respect and grace. I am so proud of everyone.
Personally, the weekend was a spiritual experience. I am almost forced out of my body and into my spirit. I am catapulted into and out of space, to a place from which I may view everything as a gift, in awe.
The weekend was much too short. The goodbyes were traumatic for me. I wept when I got home.
I will need a few days to recover from this, but never to forget what it feels like to actually share my experience with others in the Assyrian language, no matter how broken that language.
Thank you Sham for making life as a queer Assyrian magical for the first time in a social sense.

Dear Paul and Tracy,
I can't believe how profoundly depressed I am!
I could not have anticipated this much emotion, not even from myself! I struggle to keep the tears down, but fail.
It's just that everyone was so beautiful and sweet, gracious and funny, and yet we were each so different, peculiar in our own way.
Now I think, Did any of it even happen? Now starts the romanticizing.
I can't imagine returning to my life here in Marin, in white wealthy Marin, after being with so many queer people of color for a weekend- eating together, talking while sitting in a circle, swearing like children, waking together, living together…
I also wanted to say I really enjoyed having you guys join me in the drive up to the Russian River. I could not have asked for gentler companions.
I am so grateful to know you.
Much love,
E.

Emil,
Yesterday was very difficult for me, also. I felt very lonely, low. I realized how easily I got used to being surrounded by all these lovely, loving, interesting people. Then all of a sudden, poof! They're gone. It wasn't gradual at all. I should have picked up the phone and called someone. It was awesome to have you there. The luminaries were beautiful. By the way, Linda wants to post some accounts of the retreat on All Out There. I wanted to forward one of your e-mails to her to post because I thought it was so beautiful, especially the part about having difficulty saying goodbye because many of us have had to say permanent farewells to our homes and relatives in Iran and Iraq. I didn't want to take the initiative and send it without your consent. I love you, Emil. This weekend the Queer Assyrian Nation was born…
Shammi

Human relationships seem as fragile as the wish that gives birth to them.
Love,
E.

Emil,
It was very good to hear from you. It has been a let down to come back to the stuff of daily life. I am still sorting through the feelings, the emotions that were stirred over the weekend. I can't tell you how, but something feels really different. A large part of me that has been dead for a long time feels touched and alive again. I started the day feeling real good, and as the day progressed I just sort of wore down. The image I have is having been at the top of a mountain this weekend- and I know we can't stay at the top and that we have to come down to the ground- but being at the top changes the way you look at things. I guess I'm kind of rambling. I'm trying to make sense of it. I talked to my cousin last night. She was really excited about the retreat, even though she's not gay. In fact she wants to be a part of things the next time. I told her how good it was to be with my own, to be with family, family that accepts you for who you are. I also came to the realization that for many years I have tried to live as a "white" person, but have never really fit in. I have had friends and worked in other communities of color, but again I was not really one of them. I really felt that I was at home this weekend and found my community. I also feel that I have found a little brother in you. You are a truly beautiful and special man. Driving up with you set the whole tone for the weekend. Your gentleness, love, and beauty opened me up to the experience that was awaiting me. I really miss everyone.
We must maintain the vision we had on the mountain. My fear is that we will all get caught up in our daily lives again and forget.
It's up to us.
Peace and much love,
Paul

Dear Paul,
Thanks for the expressive e-mail.
I love what the weekend has symbolized for and awakened in you. That will always be with you; the feeling cannot be taken away by life's trifling and daily wears and tears. Do not fear. That was my own concern as well, that I would be thrown back into the world and forced to relinquish my spirit.
Remember, we can always replenish. Are we all that consumed by our lives that we cannot find each other, call each other?
A co-worker, a fabulous woman, looked at me yesterday and said, "You look different, Emil. You look older to me, more mature." And I said, 'I feel different, older. The weekend changed my life forever.'
Paul, if only we'd had the connection we felt at the retreat when we were younger and forced to express our angst and secrets in self-loathing, self-destructive ways!
I feel I have found something deeper than friendship.
Thank you,
Love,
E.