Does the Mirror Fit?

By: Hanadi Alnawab

I received this beautiful silver mirror from my parents when I got married in 2008. It was handmade in Iraq in the early 20th century, the design is inspired by the original Turkish silver mirrors dating back to the 19th century Ottoman era.

It is typically used in traditional wedding ceremonies in Iraq, where the mirror is placed on a table with the reflective surface facing the bride during the ceremony, believed to ward off negative energy and the evil eye, and bring good fortune for the newlyweds. Crafted from silver and other metals, it requires regular polishing to maintain its lustrous shine. Other than at wedding ceremonies, the mirror is usually displayed on a stand in the family room as a decorative piece, or on the wall as wall art, with the decorative back revealed and the reflective surface facing the wall. 

This mirror reminds me of my childhood in Baghdad and specifically of my grandparents’ house, the rich culture and history I felt at their home, and the immense love and safety I felt in their presence. 

I am grateful to my mother who took it upon herself to bring valuable pieces owned by her family along our journeys as we all moved, in phases, through different countries before making it to Canada. The silver mirror was one of those items, wrapped and packaged carefully with love before embarking on a new adventure. It left Iraq with us in 1995, spent few years in Jordan, few more years in Lebanon before making it to Canada. The mirror’s journey was not always smooth or straightforward. Some days it was beaming with pride while proudly decorating our family room, and other days it was locked in a storage box or suitcase patiently waiting for its fate to be decided by a higher power.

My parents were certainly privileged to be able to “pack a suitcase” before leaving … I often wonder what other decisions they had to make and what items were lucky enough to fit in a suitcase.

Just like my parents did, I had to make the “suitcase” decision several times, often inspired by renowned poet Mahmoud Darwish’s famous line: “My homeland is not a suitcase, and I am no traveler”, from his 1969 poem “Diary of a Palestinian Wound”.

Darwish was asked about the story of the suitcase during a TV interview in the 90’s, during which he shared that the poem was inspired by the many times he found himself rushing to pack his belongings when forced to leave, not knowing if he will ever come back, “other than your legal documents, some clothes, books? what else would you pack? how can I pack my home in a suitcase?“, and then he said “Years later, the suitcase spoke to itself and said … my homeland is in my suitcase”.

As this handmade piece of art sits in my home today, I cherish the memories I have of my grandparents’ home in Baghdad, and the memories of our journey to Canada. I feel my grandparents’ profound presence in my life everyday. A presence that is rich in history, culture, and peaceful co-existence. As my son says to me now “there is no love like the grandparents’ love, they just love you!”

I also wonder, where is the mirror going next?

In the background is a traditional Iraqi hand woven rug, another item that is close to my heart with warm colours and beautiful design.