From zenda@ix.netcom.com Mon Feb 3 03:41:46 1997 Return-Path: zenda@ix.netcom.com Received: from dfw-ix4.ix.netcom.com (dfw-ix4.ix.netcom.com [206.214.98.4]) by emin31.mail.aol.com (8.6.12/8.6.12) with ESMTP id DAA25190; Mon, 3 Feb 1997 03:41:42 -0500 Received: from walkhas-pc.3com.com ([139.87.67.230]) by dfw-ix4.ix.netcom.com (8.6.13/8.6.12) with SMTP id XAA15992; Sun, 2 Feb 1997 23:14:12 -0800 Message-Id: <3.0.32.19970202231709.00698aac@popd.ix.netcom.com> X-Sender: zenda@popd.ix.netcom.com X-Mailer: Windows Eudora Pro Version 3.0 Demo (32) Date: Sun, 02 Feb 1997 23:24:49 -0800 To: zenda@ix.netcom.com From: ZENDA Subject: ZENDA I (Vol II,#50 ; 2/3/96) Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" Shvadt 3, 6746 February 3, 1997 zzzzzzzz zzzzzzzz zz z zzzzzzzzz z z z z z z z z z z z z z z z z z z z z zzzzzzz z z z z z zzzzzzz z z z z z z z z z z z z z z z z z z zzzzzzzz zzzzzzzz z zz zzzzzzz z z Volume II, Issue 50 A Weekly Online Publication of ZENDA Assyrian Newsagency -Section 1 of 2- =========================================================================== T H I S W E E K I N Z E N D A =========================================================================== -Section One- The Lighthouse...................... "My Boy, I Give You America!" Good Morning Bet-Nahrain............ Assyrian Delegation in the US Surfs Up............................ "The mother of all ironies" Surfers Corner...................... Valentine Bash Invitation Desperately Seeking Bridal Scarves News Digest......................... Toronto Mourns the Loss of Its Deacon Harvard Univ. to Hire Assyriologist News Bits........................... Saddam's Wife in Custody -Section Two- Calendar of Events.................. Political Rallies in San Jose & Turlock Entracte............................ Valentine Bash in Michigan Intelligentsia...................... Classes, Lectures & Meetings Assyrian Surfing Posts.............. The Netherlands Inst for the Near East Pump up the Volume.................. Scream and Shout Back to the Future.................. Ashurnassirpal founds Calah The Mission Press in Urmie Literatus........................... Shamshi-Adad's Letter to His Son This Week in History................ Naom Faiq Bravo............................... Syriac Concordance Program (German) The Directory....................... News Sources Bshena.............................. Holland & Pakistan Salute.............................. Gabriel, Albert, Firas, Lorine, Ashur, Christoph, and Steven =========================================================================== THE L I G H T H O U S E =========================================================================== "MY BOY, I GIVE YOU AMERICA!" "My boy, I give you America." With these words, my father put me on my own. I was 16, facing life in America, with no money, no knowledge of the language, no schooling. My father gave me America, but I had to make America. That was in 1923; four years after the end of World War I, my father found me sick in a charity hospital in Constantinople, the only survivor of his large family he had left, in 1912, fairly comfortable in Jilu, Zerini, Van Province, Kurdistan. We arrived in Argentina. I was only eight when the Kurds drove us from our home in 1915. However, I have vivid memories of our stone house, built on three levels on the terraced hillside. My uncle's family occupied the lowest level, the sheep and goats the highest level somewhat back of the house which we occupied between the uncle and the animals. Our particular family governed the large Jilu clan. The Malik, or governor, was elected by acclamation for a period of three years. The Maliks need be rather wealthy, as they received no pay except the care of their herds in winter, two or three sheep or goats being parceled out each year by villagers. My grandfather was a clan Malik - the title is still used in our names: George Malik Warda, meaning George of the Royal House of Warda. My grandfather was very astute. At one time the Turks were about to levy a heavy tax on the Assyrians. The day the came to inspect, Grandfather received them with a meal of corn-meal mush, over which we smacked our lips and declared it was a dinner fit for kings. The Turks left without levying any tax. "If that is a company banquet, what must their everyday fare be?" they mused. Christmas and Easter stand out clearly in my mind. There was sure to be snow at Christmas. At 4 A.M., before the early service, the villagers divided into two bands and met to shovel snow off the flat-roofed church. What fun to see which team finished first their half of the roof! Christmas day was a day of great feasting and visiting after a 25-day fast. Easter, too, was joyous after a 50-day lenten season, with its total abstinence of all animal products, even of milk, butter and eggs. Easter morning would find the entire population at the church with their pockets full of hard-boiled eggs, and greeting one another with the words: "Christ is risen," "The Lord lives, Hallelujah!" Then the egg contest. Two contestants each hold an egg and strike the ends together, first one and then the other. The winner is the one who holds the most cracked eggs, and of course one egg unbroken. Although Assyrian Christians occupied their separate territories in Kurdistan, they have always been persecuted by Turks and Kurds. Even so, Nestorian Christians have maintained their faith through the centuries. I remember our Mar-Zaia Church, the stone structure, massive wooden gates, and inside innumerable lengths of cloth hung there by those who made vows or promises and rewarded the saints in this way. More than once the church served as refuge in times of trouble. My slender, dark-haired mother had born eight children. Two of them died in Zerini before the Kurds came. On the 18th June, 1915, my mother and her six children, with hundreds of relatives and friends, were forced to get together what we could carry and cross the mountainous country to Diz, another Assyrian Christian community; a frightening experience for little ones, terrifying nights in the open, weary foot-sore days, after the comforts and security of home. We camped in the mountains of Diz for three months with no shelter whatsoever. Our only food was unsalted mutton and mountain greens. With winter coming on, we had to leave our mountain camp and travel farther east. We reached Salamas, Persia, after many tiresome days, on foot, fighting the Kurds as we went. There, an Assyrian woman very kindly shared her house with us. We had no way of buying food or other necessities. Father could not return, nor was he able to send any money. He had no news of us for months. War on a large scale was too new for organized refugee relief. Soon after we reached Persia, a plague broke out, caused probably by contaminated wheat found in abandoned houses and used on the way. Or perhaps caused by unhealthy climate in Persia, or malnutrition and privation. Our people died by tens and hundreds. Of our family, Mother went first, fortunately for her. How could she have borne the loss of four of her six children in such deplorable circumstances? Humberto, who was nine, was next, then my sisters, Esther and Espania, who were younger than I. Finally, Baby Theodor, whom we had carried in our arms all the way. Only Eshaia, who was twelve, and I survived. We took to begging, an unprofitable business. The ones from whom we begged were as needy as ourselves. For a time I took care of the mayor's horse. I rode it to the brook to wash it. I groomed it and fed it. The horse was happier than myself. Even its shelter was better than mine. My physical stature suffered for those years of privation. I should have been growing those years, but I had nothing to grow on. After my mother, sisters and brothers died, an aunt took care of Eshaia and myself. I never knew anyone poorer in this world's goods, nor richer in human kindness; a widow with five or six children, taking in two orphaned boys. She didn't exactly take us in, she took us under, our "dwelling" being a shed with roof but without walls. With money that our father was able to send, we bought a baby goat. I cared and loved that little animal. It followed me around like a brother; it even slept with me. It grew sleek and fat, and the day came when it had to be killed for meat. I begged for its life. It was useless. The goat was killed and eaten. But I would have starved to death rather than to have eaten a bite of that goat meat. In the First World War, the Assyrian nation was known as the "Little Ally". Russia sent in huge cakes of sugar in which arms and ammunitions were concealed. Some of these broke open, the Turks discovered the weapons, and at their instigation, the Kurds drove us out of our country. We were in Persia two years. As long as the Russian army was there, we were safe. When the Russian revolution broke out in 1917, the Czar's army had too much trouble at home to remain fighting the Turks, so they returned to Russia. We thought we might be better off in friendly Russia, so my brother and I, with a large number of relatives, marched with the army over plains and mountains into Armenian territory. We were among Armenian Christians, hence not persecuted. Those who remained in Persia suffered greatly. From the Armenian frontier, we enjoyed our first train ride. In changing trains, my aunt forgot her little home-made spindle and a cone or two of wool. Very excitedly she exclaimed, "Can't some young fellow run and catch the train? It just disappeared over yonder mountain." We arrived in Tiflis, Georgia, where we lived several months, the bitterest of my life. It was impossible to get work. All I earned was a few coppers thrown to me as I played clown, turning somersaults and hand-springs in front of the cafes. When driven by hunger, I begged. Isaiah kept the accounts. How I admired his sense of responsibility and honour! A few pounds sterling, or a few roubles borrowed from an uncle or cousin, on such and such a date, were repaid when father sent us a little money. Years later I paid out little debts for which Eshaia felt responsible and which he did not live to repay. From Tiflis we went to Almavar, in Kuban, where we spent a longer time. When the counter revolution broke out between White Russia and the Bolsheviques, we decided to go farther inland. My brother went ahead, to Ikatrindar (later called Krasnodar), Kuban. I never saw him again; he drowned in the Kuban River where he had gone to bathe and wash his clothes. Later I went to Ikatrindar. It would humiliate me too much, after all the years, to relate the menial chores I did there to keep soul and body together. Two years later, some hundreds of us, fleeing from the Bolshevique regime in whatever possible way, took a train from Ikatrindar to Novorossiisk, hoping to get to the coast and take ship to Constantinople. It was winter, thick snow was falling. We were riding on top of passenger cars. The hour came for a cousin to give birth to her baby. Four of us youngsters held a blanket over the woman to keep off the snow as she gave birth to a baby girl. When it was known what had happened up there on top of a moving train, a place was made for the mother and baby inside the passenger car. We arrived at the port. The boat was already overcrowded. There was no room for hundreds of Assyrian refugees and White Russians wishing to escape. We stood on the dock, with our pots, pans, and precious possessions gazing up at the ship. The captain looked down, shook his head and said, "The Bolsheviques won't harm you starving Assyrians. They'll feed you." And so it was - they were really good to us. Novorossiisk was a good place for business. The warehouses were full of abandoned merchandise and beautiful garments. Two of my relatives fought over a fur coat; one wanted it for his wife, the other for his fiancee. A policeman came along, separated the fighters, and took the coat, perhaps for his wife! We bought and sold, bartered and exchanged, in this school of hard knocks which was fine preparation for the prospective tradesman of which I had become one. The police, one day, found me with four pairs of trousers and several shirts from the warehouse, one on top of the other. My neck then was about as thick as my wrist is now, so I must have been a comical sight. The police made me give up all the shirts (I had none of my own). Then they began to divest me of the trousers. I cried and told them that my own pants were full of holes, so they allowed me to keep one good pair. After some time, some of us returned to Ikatrindar where we were treated nicely. We bought clothes in the street fairs, took them to the country and exchanged them for flour, cheese and other food. The country people were most kind to us. Little by little we got ahead, saved a few pounds sterling and were able to leave Russia by way of Batum, Georgia. In Constantinople I met my father. Nine years before he had left a happy family. Now I was all he had. Before my father got in touch with me, a fellow countryman, in three months' time, taught me to read and write in Aramaic, our native tongue. On the boat from Constantinople to Italy, he taught me the European ABC's. In Paris I spelled out the word H-O-T-E-L, my first acquaintance of the European writing. We arrived in Buenos Aires, Argentina, the 5th of August, 1923. There I studied the language, arithmetic, history and geography of Argentina. Argentina was heaven: clean living, plenty to eat, enjoyable work, buying and selling at a profit. Within five years I had made what seemed to be a fortune, but came within one of failing to make America. I sailed to Beyrouth [Beirut-Lebanon], bought a taxi, hired a driver and expected to live like a gentleman. The taxi collided with a street car. I sued the company, lost the suit, and the taxi, and had to pay the costs. At 23 years of age, I was back in America [South America], having paid my passage on borrowed money. Just where I started seven years before, only a bit wiser. My father was so out of patience with me that even his cash wedding gift six years later was given explicitly to my wife. I settled permanently - as it turned out - in Montevideo [Uruguay]. I had no money with which to buy a few trinkets to sell. I got a job in Swift's Packing Plant shoveling coal. I worked six days, and drew my pay. After paying my room rent, I had five Uruguayan pesos, my initial capital. I bought a few notions, combs, brushes, mirrors and handkerchiefs. I set out to sell them, my own boss from that day on. I sold from house to house, carrying my goods in a large basket, later with a basket, cheap suitcase, and a pile of towels, lengths of cloth, and lace over my shoulder. I walked miles and miles, calling "Tendero, Tendero." Some of my customers from those days still call me "tendero" (storekeeper). I knew the streets of this suburb with my eyes shut. I learned whom I could trust. I made life-long friends. Most of all, I learned the value and satisfaction of serving my community unselfishly. My marriage, my family, my father's tragic death, my quitting street-selling to open a tiny clothing store, the years that saw the business grow to become the largest of its kind in a suburb of 120,000 inhabitants: are not part of this story. I made America, but not for myself alone. I would consider it a sin against those years of hardship and sorrow if I lived in selfish comfort. By identifying myself with the church and organizations of social betterment, I have been influential in securing a high school and industrial school for our suburb, free clinical and ambulance services, a pre-kindergarten school for 60 children of working mothers, more adequate lighting, paving and hygiene, and better housing conditions, working harmoniously with the Community Welfare Committee. We ourselves live simply in the humbler suburbs where we established our business. Surplus profits are invested in building comfortable houses with every convenience to rent at reasonable rates to those who are not able to pay excessive rents. Why? We want the humblest citizen to enjoy life as fully as we do. We want others to "live" America, though certainly not to reach it by the hard road, which I was obliged to travel. "Thanks, Dad, for America. Let's share America with others." Gewargis Warda and Alice Irwin Warda Uruguay [This week's article was submitted by the author's daughter, Gladys Warda, a ZENDA reader who is currently living in Uruguay. The article was first published in the Autumn/Winter issue (Vol 2, No 35) of THE ASSYRIAN, a Journal of the Assyrian Society of Great Britain in 1976.] =========================================================================== G O O D M O R N I N G B E T - N A H R A I N =========================================================================== TWO REPRESENTATIVE GROUPS FROM BET-NAHRAIN TO VISIT SAN JOSE, CALIFORNIA (ZNDA: San Jose) A delegation of two Assyrian organizations from Northern Bet-Nahrain is currently visiting the U.S. and organizing political rallies. The delegation consist of Butrus Zkaria, the president of CAPNI (Christian Aid Program in Northern Iraq), a humanitarian aid organization, and Romel Shimshun, a representative of a new Assyrian political party, Gabba Athranaya Demoqrataya (see ZENDA Vol II,#30). Both organizations have been providing educational, charitable and social assistance to the Assyrians of northern Iraq in the post-Gulf War period. A political rally will be organized in the Assyrian American Association of San Jose on Sunday, 9 February at 7:00 pm. A rally is also planned for the Modesto-Turlock communities in the Assyrian American Civic Club of Turlock on 10 February. For more information contact these Assyrian organizations in San Jose and Turlock. =========================================================================== S U R F S U P ! =========================================================================== "Two days ago, I heard some disturbing news. I am not sure how accurate it is, but I heard that a whole family was robbed and killed in their own home in Baghdad. I am wondering if anyone heard about this tragedy. The family are from Alkosh. Keep up the good work and God bless. Vivian Hammi San Diego, California ************** "Your piece on the Rogation of Ninevites was beautiful. Thanks for educating us on our rich traditions and keep up the good work. I'd like to make this comment regarding Francis Sarguis' remarks in the last issue of Zenda. It strikes me, as an Assyrian who lived the first half of his life in the Middle East, as "the Mother of all Ironies" that the most undemocratic and backward Assyrian organizations anywhere in this world are found right here in the United States. It is a shame that we Assyrians in this country, after having lived here for about a century, have learned nothing about what democracy is and how it is practiced. The Assyrians of Bet-Nahrain who live under totalitarian regimes, from my personal experiences and observations, have an enlightened national awareness and a fundamental understanding of democracy which is so lacking in us Assyrians of the US who live in this most democratic country in the world. Unless we rise to close these businesses that have set up shop in the name of the Assyrian nation and replace the current corrupt system that has made a mockery of our nation in this country for the past seventy years with Motvas, i.e. popularly elected Assyrian assemblies at local, state, and national level, and finance these Motvas with a National Assyrian Tax (the same way we finance local, state, and the federal government in this country) to bring in paid professionals to run our national affairs, I do not foresee a viable future for our nation in this country. It is only through such a system that the inherent and inalienable right of every Assyrian to participate in our national affairs will be realized. And it is only such a system that will be scrutinized and held accountable by our nation, because it draws its power and legitimacy from each and every Assyrian in this country, not bingo, parties, or conventions. Then we Assyrians can take charge of our destiny and assume our rightful place among the advanced nations of the world." Ramin Daniels San Jose, California ************** "I just want to let your readers know that GNN closed down and they switched me to AOL. However, they still kept my 20MBs (thank God). The new address is as follows: Learning Assyrian (Aramaic / Neo-Aramaic) Online http://members.aol.com/assyrianme/aramaic/aramaic.html ." Robert Oshana ************** "Is there anyway I can get an old version ov ZENDA? I need the one that has the information about convention in it..if you would not mind. thank you. very much." Anoukin Mooshabad Assyrian School Action Committee Moderator http://www.assyria.net/al-schools [Please see this week's CALENDAR OF EVENTS for complete information.] ************** "Dear Mr. Sam kosa, Hello my name is Ashur S. Alkhas ,Grandson of the major of Adea,iran in the 1970's. I read your article in ZENDA news letter. I do have a Assyrian name . The assyrian name I found was Sargon. Sargon means The Greatest of Kings. Ashur S. Alkhas Hesperia, California [Ashur Sargon is one of the many young ZENDA readers whose number has quickly grown in the past three months. We urge our weekly subscribers to encourage reading of ZENDA to the younger members of their families and communities. By the way Ashur, your beautiful Assyrian name comes from the older title, Sharrukin, which means the True King or Leader. Indeed Sargon or Sharrukin was the greatest of Akkadian kings.] ************** "DEAR BROTHERS, SHALMA ATHORIA. WE ARE VERY PLEASED AND HAPPY TO RECEIVE YOUR LETTERS. THANK YOU!" Assyrian News Toronto, Canada =========================================================================== S U R F E R S C O R N E R =========================================================================== VALENTINE BASH IN MICHIGAN The Chaldean American Student Association (CASA) at the University of Michigan-Dearborn cordially invites you to attend their Valentine Bash, Saturday February 15, 1997, 8:00, at St. George's Cultural Center in Troy. Come join us for an *Ultimate Night Out* while helping CASA raise money for the graduating Chaldean high school seniors of 1997. Stags, couples,everyone is welcome! (18 and over with ID, please). Features include: *DJ *Appetizers *Cash Bar There is a donation of $20.00 for tickets in advance or $25.00 at the door. Tickets can currently be purchased at Bally's Video in Berkeley, La Fendi Restaurant in Southfield, Miami Taning in Oak Park, Videoplex of Rochester Hills, and soon at Sahara West in West Bloomfield. Tickets can also be purchased from any CASA member. St. George's Cultural Center is located on Maple Rd, east of John R. For more information on this party, email Steven Kiryakoza at sdkjr@umich.edu, check out http://www.umd.umich.edu/~sdkjr/casa/party.html or call (810) 905-1277. ************** DESPERATELY SEEKING BRIDAL SCARVES My Fellow Assyrians in Chicago: My cousin is getting married and she wants me to make her the scarves that are used to dance in front of the bride. I used to have the name and number of a real nice lady who either owned or worked in an Assyrian store which carried such supplies. I can't find her number anywhere. Can anyone out there give me the name and number of any Assyrian store that carries the scarves and the cepa's (the sequin looking things you sew around the scarf)??? Thank you in advance for your responses. Narmela Sargis ;-) San Jose, CA =========================================================================== N E W S D I G E S T =========================================================================== ASSYRIANS OF CANADA MOURN THE LOSS OF SHAMASHA YONAN HURMIZ (ZNDA: Chicago) Thousands of Assyrians gathered last Sunday in Toronto, Canada at the Assyrian Church of the East to mourn the terrible and unexpected death of the Shamasha Yonan Hurmiz. Returning from his second job at the glass factory last Saturday, the 34-year-old father hit by a drunk driver who driving through a red light. The drunk driver was caught fleeing the site of the accident. Shamasha Yonan was announced dead upon arrival at the hospital. Hours later his 5-month-pregnant wife was informed of the accident. Mar Emmanuel, Bishop of the Church of the East and a tearful Qasha Yonan conducted the religious rites at the memorial last week. Shamasha Yonan arrived in Canada in 1989 and worked to assist his family in Iraq. In 1993 Yonan and Fraydon attempted to collect $10,000 to support an ailing brother in Jordan who was in dire need of a kidney transplant. Their efforts resulted in collecting a third of the total money needed. Shamasha Yonan, in addition to his regular work at the mirror and glass factory, used the equipment to create mirrors with a glazed and embedded Assyrian flag and sold them to the Assyrian buyers. Shamasha Yonan Hermez served as a volunteer in the Assyrian Apostolic Catholic Church of The East, taught the Assyrian language and culture. Shamasha Yonan is survived by his wife, Ahlam; a 2-year-old daughter; his brother, Shamasha Fraydon Hurmiz in Toronto' a sister in Greece; and an immediate family including a brother in Baghdad. [Staff of ZENDA has contributed the amount of $100.00 towards Shamasha Yonan's Trust Fund in Canada. ZENDA urges its readers, particularly those residing in North America, likewise to extend a helping hand and assist Deacon Yonan's wife and daughter in these emotional times. You may send your contribution to ZENDA P.O. Box 20278 San Jose, California 95160 U.S.A. or directly to Shamasha Yonan Hurmiz Trust Fund Scotiabank 1839 Albion Road Rexdale, Ontario Canada Account # 555-820-955-884 ZENDA wishes to hear from you and maintain a record of all donations sent from its readers. Finally, our staff and reporters around the world extend their heartfelt sympathies to the family of Shamasha Yonan Hurmiz and the grieving Assyrian community of Toronto, Canada. May his soul rest in peace!] HELP WANTED: ASSYRIOLOGY AT HARVARD UNIVERSITY (ZNDA: Chicago) The Department of Near Eastern Languages and Civilizations, at Harvard University, invites applications for an expected appointment in Assyriology, initially for a term of three years, beginning in the academic year 1997-98. Research and teaching interests in the first millennium BCE are particularly welcome. This is a junior appointment and it is not anticipated that it will lead to senior rank. Applications, along with a curriculum vitae and bibliography, should be sent to Professor Piotr Steinkeller, Department of Near Eastern Languages and Civilizations, 6 Divinity Avenue, Cambridge, Massachusetts 02138, by March 31, 1997. Harvard University is an equal opportunity employer, and particularly urges women and members of minority groups to apply. For more information contact: Rachel Rockenmacher Department Administrator Near Eastern Languages and Civilizations (617) 496-6055 rlrocken@husc.harvard.edu =========================================================================== N E W S B I T s =========================================================================== (ZNMN) A senior U.S. military officer said that Saddam Hussein's wife is under house arrest and his son, Uday, may lose his leg. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- -End of Section 1 of 2