Living Together in Little Baghdad

Kalyana Naamo remembers his house in Tel Eskof, just north of Mosul. A kitchen big enough to be a whole apartment, a garden with yellow flowers and a room for every one of his children, he recalled. Ghanem Mammo also owned a house in the same Iraqi Chaldean village, and he remembers it being big enough to fit even extended family when they visited.

Naamo and Mammo are both retired men in their late sixties, and were reminiscing on a park bench in El Cajon, San Diego, where they often spend their days with fellow Iraqi Christians, exchanging stories and praying with beaded rosaries in their hands. Sometimes they listened to old Iraqi songs on a cell phone.

These elderly men all came to the United States to seek safety from religious persecution. Christians in Iraq are a persecuted religious minority group. Almost half of Iraq’s Christian population has left the country since 2003, according to a report by Human Rights Watch.

Memories of happy times in their home country quickly turned solemn when they talked about why they left their homes.

“I received a letter threatening me,” said Naamo, sliding a bead from his rosary under his finger, “a Muslim extremist gang gave me and my family 48 hours to leave Iraq.”

Naamo said he had returned home one day from a walk in the park to find the threatening note hanging on his door, and that’s when he quickly took his family to Mosul, and then to El Cajon in 2008.

Mammo also received a letter. “They asked me to pay a ransom, but I told them I didn’t have any money. They did it three times, and on the third time, I took my family and left,” said Mammo, who came to the city of El Cajon in 2012.

Following the US-led invasion that toppled Saddam Hussein's government in 2003, Iraqis bore witness to several years of violent conflict between different religious and ethnic groups. Since the formation of the Sunni Muslim militant group, ISIS, the UNHCR, the U.N. refugee agency, reported more than 3 million Iraqis displaced inside and outside Iraq, and about one million displaced before 2014. The organization also reported that mass executions, rape and acts of violence are widespread in the country.

Kalyana Naamo and Ghanem Mammo spend their time with friends at Prescott Promenade Park on Main Street in El Cajon.

“I sacrificed everything because of the horror we endured. We needed to feel safe,” said Naamo, “I would leave the house not knowing if I would come back home, or if my daughters would be there when I got back.”

76 percent of the refugee arrivals in San Diego County during the last five fiscal years are from Iraq, and the majority of Iraqi refugees are settling in the city of El Cajon, where there is an established Iraqi community, according to a 2016 report by the County of San Diego Health and Human Services Agency, which also reported that the majority of Iraqis in San Diego County are Chaldean.

“We left the killing and the persecution and came here, and entered into this new problem where we can barely make rent and live easily,” said Naamo.

Though they feel safer in California, life in the United States has required many sacrifices. Leaving their large homes behind is only the tip of the iceberg, especially for Iraqis who don’t speak English, have to support large families and deal with higher living expenses.

A Sacrifice for Religious Freedom

Refaat Yaldo at a charity event in St. Michael’s Church in El Cajon.

Leaning on a railing at a charity event in St. Michael’s Church in El Cajon, bags of donated food and blankets at his feet, Refaat Yaldo’s eyes filled with tears as he recalled life in his home country, Iraq, before the spread of religious militias.

Artwork at Syriac Catholic Church in El Cajon.

He spoke of his old job as a party planner in “the most prestigious event hall in Baghdad,” and how it all abruptly ended, and he found himself packing meat for a living in the San Diego.

“I was threatened to leave by a terrorist group whose name I don’t even know,” Yaldo said, “But the letter was addressed to me. It had my name on it.”

Yaldo is also a Chaldean Christian, and said he came to El Cajon almost three years ago, after fleeing from Iraq to Turkey, and then to San Diego through the U.N. refugee resettlement system.

“We were exhausted from years in Iraq. We saw explosions and received threats and saw all kinds of terrorism.” Yaldo said, “I thought I would come here and rest. But we work night and day because the government welfare isn’t enough.”

The father of four said that just two months after arriving in San Diego, he fell off a faulty ladder at work, injured in his leg and couldn’t find other employment.

“My 19-year-old son had to drop out of school to work and help out. He works at the carwash,” Yaldo said.

El Cajon city has the highest number of refugees in San Diego county, according to a report by the County of San Diego Health and Human Services Agency, which also said that the city has an unemployment rate of 11.1 percent, a figure that is higher than the county’s overall 8.1 percent unemployment rate.

Noori Barka is the vice president of the Chaldean American Association.

The vice president of the Chaldean American Association, Noori Barka, said that after securing refugee entry to the U.S., Chaldeans choose to come to El Cajon because of the already established community and most importantly, the presence of Chaldean Catholic houses of worship.

“Whenever there’s a church, people will gather around it,” said Barka, “the church, for us, is like our home. We have to be close to the church and there aren’t many Chaldean churches in America.”

El Cajon has two main Chaldean places of worship: St. Peter’s Chaldean Catholic Cathedral, and St. Michael’s Chaldean Catholic church.

Barka said that the importance of leaving Iraq for the safety of Chaldean families, far outweighs attachments to big houses or economic assets back home. However, that doesn’t mean that it’s all smooth sailing for the families when they finally arrive in the country where they are seeking refuge.

“When they arrive here, they’re basically below the zero mark. They have nothing to work with,” said Barka, “they have to face limitations with language, health issues and sometimes, even the fact that their kids were growing up without going to school.”

However, Barka said that his organization has seen conditions improve for people after spending more time in the country.

“The first two years will be very hard, but after that it’s more solid,” Barka said, adding that there are now several Chaldean-owned businesses in El Cajon that employ Iraqi newcomers.

At “Ali Baba” restaurant in El Cajon, Salman Hummi served dishes of glistening grilled meats and saffron-dyed rices.

Hummi said he owned a restaurant back home in Iraq, and now works as a waiter in El Cajon. He said he didn’t have trouble getting a job at the Iraqi restaurant when he came to El Cajon in 2002, and he is happy with his new life.

“Our wish was to come to America and wear the cross,” he said, pulling out a golden cross pendant hanging on a chain around his neck, adding, “we couldnt have done that in Iraq.”

“There's no other reason to leave home,” Hummi said.