Mesopotamia Stories, Part 1

Saving Ur

By Lila

Ilusha sat on the floor of her mud brick house. Gazing out the windows, she admired the beauty of the Fertile Crescent. She looked at the irrigation systems that ran through the land next to the city. The water glistened in the morning light. 

All was peaceful until she heard a sharp cry echoing through the city. They were under attack. 

“Go, my child, hide!" cried Ilusha’s mother. “I will find you!"

Ilusha ran out of her house, and through the many fields. She finally found a small hole covered in leaves. She had dug it in case of emergencies, ever since she heard that Akkad was planning to attack. 

She heard a scream from her house. As she crawled deeper into the hole, she began to worry about her mother. Tears streamed down her face, as she thought of what could have happened to her mom. 

...

Ilusha woke up with a sore neck, and a stomach full of worries. She peered out of the hole and gasped. The empire of Ur had fallen. The city was in ruins.  She felt a chill go up her spine. Her dad was being held hostage as a government prisoner at the palace. She knew she had to save him.

Ilusha looked down at her mother, still asleep. She knew her mother would never let her go. She felt bad, but sneaking out was the only way to save her father.

There is no turning back, Ilusha said to herself, and she crawled out of the hole ...

The Temple

By Nicholas F.

There it was -- the temple. I couldn’t wait to take part in worship for the first time in my life. They call it ziggurat. It sounds so holy and sacred.

Come in Esagil! We don’t have all day! The harvest shall come swiftly and we must pray if we don’t want Ur to starve!

Coming, mother! 

I couldn’t wait to pray. Last harvest was great because every evening the streets were empty, but you could hear the choirs from across the fields.

I entered the temple ... Everyone was praying with the choirs. Singing to the gods and hoping for a good harvest. 

It was the day of the Yellow Moon, the most crucial day of worship. Rumor has it that even the lions come to the walls of the city to worship.

Nanna beams yellow rays, instead of white ones, to signal to the harvest gods to make a great harvest this year, so Mesopotamia won’t starve. 

Some of the best spots for agriculture and domestication in the whole Fertile Crescent are right outside Ur.

Suddenly, the whole room went quiet and priests chanted in unison:

Nanna your beams shall ever please the harvest gods, and goddesses from the sky shall fill the rivers with their rain. 

For the harvest, may the fruits be plenty. 

For Ur, may the people be plenty. 

For the crescent, may the peace stand. 

For Gods and Goddesses, we praise you, as we shall until the end of time, and for Nanna, not only will we do the same, but you are above all other deities. 

We shall worship you, as you prove your power on this day.

Smart Enough to be a Scribe

By Martha

Inanna, dear, can you wake up? It’s time for the ceremony. I hope you’ve made a decision, mother said.

I smiled and nodded. 

Well, get ready! 

I put on my nicest clothes, then started with Mar to the temple, mother and father trailing behind. 

What’re you gonna be? Mar whispered to me.

It’s a surprise, I answered with a smile.

When we were there, all the twelve year olds had gathered in front of Babylon to declare their way of life. We were running late, so I was almost in the back of the line. Only three people were behind me, and I was feeling confident. 

The first person walked out. I knew the boy, Beletum. He and I were friends, until he said I wasn’t smart one day...

He declared with a smile that he would be fighting in the military. The city nodded approvingly. Beletum was strong -- a brute, if you will. He would be a great fit for the military.

I don’t know the next boy, or the girl after that. My mind wanders and before I know it, I’m on the spot. 

I will be a...

A huge knot in my throat forms as I look down into my crowd. My tunnel vision directs me straight to Hammurabi. My heart skips a beat. I could swear he nods at me.

A scribe. I will be a scribe.

The place erupts with laughter. My face turns beet-red and tears well in my eyes. I give them a gesture, asking why they are laughing at me. 

One adult yells, “She’s just a girl! How on Earth could she be a scribe?!”

Looking to my left, I see Beletum, laughing out loud. Told you so, he mouths. 

Even Mar in the crowd is stifling a laugh. 

I run off the stage. Everything's a blur, and I am lost in a sea of people, laughing, pointing, staring.

Stupid, I scolded myself. Nobody else risked being a scribe, but you felt compelled to make a fool of yourself. You could’ve been a farmer! A vet! But no, you had to try something new. Those kinds of risks just don't pay off...