Photos from the Week

E and Random Men Outside Al Faw 12-1-11

Setting Up for Fulfillment Day at Al Faw

Otherwise Known as Cat Herding to the Nth Degree

A Longer View

I Spy a Blond Guy....

Craig Cardiff in the Morning

E just turned to me and said he was worried that I was just a little too happy this morning. I made a sour face and asked what he was afraid of.  He said something about horns coming out....

What can I say? There's nothing like a little Craig Cardiff in the morning.

Well, that's at least part of it.  Flashback to beautiful Montreal.  Plus non-dfac coffee.  Time to talk and daydream a little without immediately rushing back to the office.

And then there's the recent streak of less rushed conversations with family.  E knows that always gets me pumped up.  I have to be careful not to do it late at night, cuz sometimes then I won't want to sleep.  But it's sooo nice to have time to hear what the fam is up to.... and not just go through the motions and then run off to the next thing.

The bigger part is probably my relief that we both made it through this past week. No, don't worry, I don't mean that in the literal sense.  But you may have read that we had a special guest this week.  It was an interesting thing, really.  E was involved in supporting the visit, and was sucked out of the apartment from the dark of the early morning to the dark of night almost every day.  But if he hadn't been involved, I don't know how much I would have been affected by the visit at all.  There was a town hall/meet and greet, but other than that, there was no pomp and circumstance, or even elevated energy around having the vice president of our country on our compound.  Strange.

Yes, all our "assets" were dedicated to managing logistics for his massive team to get from meeting to meeting.  And there were more than the usual swarms of men in dark suits with earpieces and large weapons.  But.... it somehow felt surreal.  I don't know if I expected more cheer-leading, or announcements on the loudspeaker, or what.  But I expected more.  I would have liked to be more.... Welcoming?  Touched?  More likely: Informed.

And I am glad that it is over.  Looking forward to a somewhat "normal" week ahead.  It's Ashura on Monday, and I have plans to visit a couple of AmCits later in the week.  We expect the streets to be closed to offer protection to pilgrims on their way..... so that will color the next several days.  Then we just chug along deeper into December.  It takes a conscious effort to mark the change in seasons.  Yes the weather's colder, but with so much the same, day in, day out, we kinda have to pinch ourselves to remember where we are in the year.

Sometimes the pinch I need is good music, time to breathe, and a sense of accomplishment after a particularly busy week.

Gratitude

It's a beautiful day in Baghdad. Blue sky, fresh air. Quiet. A break from work.

We ran the embassy turkey trot this morning. E was unabashed that he was in it for the t-shirt. I was there for many reasons, but found extra joy in our running together today. He did try to shake me near the end, but I hung in close and powered through.

Now I'm in the sun-filled living room, cheeks still flushed from the run (even a shower and an hour later). Don't have to be anywhere yet for a bit. Can just be and breathe a little. As I sit here, the space around me is filling with gratitude:

for family and friends nearby in our hearts.
that family and friends are able to celebrate together.
for jobs, that are--more often than not--also vocations.
for jobs in this economy.
for a day off.
for all the Thanksgivings we've had together.
that we've been able to spend this time in Iraq together.
that we won't always be this far away from home.
for the people we're meeting here.
for those who make me stop during the day and reassess a prejudgment.
for the abundance of good food.
for the convenience and unavoidable proximity of a beautiful gym.
for the slightly tacky and hugely extravagant holiday lights that just went up on "Main Street."
for good books. And Kindles to read them on.
for photographs. I've lately come to realize how inadequate my mind is for keeping memories, and have a new appreciation for those keepsake visual reminders of experiences had and shared.
for movies and tv shows that help us unwind after another stress-filled day.
for fun, brave, strong, resilient colleagues.
for social media that allow us to communicate globally at will for free.
for morning naps.
for the time to take a moment and think on all these things and much much more that make life better.

Grateful grateful grateful grateful.

Unconscious Invasions

The night before last I dreamed about arresting vampires and then going to visit them in jail.

Now what kind of weirdness could be going on in my waking life to stimulate those images out of my unconscious I ask you?!

I'm a bit bashful to admit that it's most likely the combination of a steady diet of True Blood (the show, not the actual microwaved beverage) and the lead up to my first prison visit yesterday. Blend that up in the sur-reality that is Baghdad and I think you've got a recipe for some truly bizarre experiences. Even if it's all in my head.

Since most of you probably don't care to hear/read my reflective analysis of the character development and plot lines of True Blood, perhaps I'll write just a bit more about the prison visit side of this twisted cocktail that was my dream. (Although now that I've started, I'm having trouble shutting down the thoughts about Sookie and Bon Temps and all that ....) So anyway, yeah, I got to go see a guy who may or may not have done some bad things. I won't say any more about him, but the visit itself was..... memorable.

After too long stuck in traffic in our too hot body armor, we finally arrived at the venue long after I had had to go to the bathroom too bad. Luckily one of the security guys took pity on me and texted ahead to make sure I could be ushered straight into a potty. I sheepishly asked if there was any chance they had mapped pit stops along the way. That gave everyone a good laugh.

So we showed up, and I'm funneled straight into the police chief's personal rest room. It's great because it's right behind his desk. So I get to come in, walk behind his desk, which, after standing to greet me, he sits back down at, and close the door to use his little squat-hole in the floor. And then I get to come back out to more fully meet him and begin our formal meeting all dignified-like. Well something like that.

But it gets better after my bladder is empty. I can think straight again and I forget that I'm the only woman around. For, like, miles. The police chief is very amiable. I understand a good part of what he's saying, but not near enough to have a coherent conversation. Unfortunately, many of his colleagues are not as friendly, nor as helpful. But we power through, and eventually we get the job done and get back to base.

I swear as we pulled back into the IZ (the "green zone") the temperature dropped like 20 degrees. You never think you'll be as happy to see the same four walls as you really are, after you've been away from them. All is well. Job done. Reports in.

Dreams back to normal last night. We'll see if further detox is needed or if I might get a little shot of True Blood here this evening before it gets too late....

Silly Viddy

This past week a colleague and I were in an informational video about the diversity visa program. I know - could it possibly get more exciting?! I bet you can't *wait* to see it.

Well without further ado:

OK, so perhaps you didn't understand every word.... but I bet you got the big picture.

While we're recapping....

I neglected to share this fabulous interview E gave by surprise on local tv. He'll want to give the full story himself, but my version is:

• E was asked to prepare a statement.
• He prepared it and submitted it to the station.
• The station read the statement while they had him on the phone.
• Then they proceeded to go into a live interview.

So there you go. Even if you don't understand Arabic, now you have a sense of what you'll be seeing. For less of the build up, feel free to fast fwd to 3:50 or so.

What's Happened?!

What has happened since I last posted?! Hmm, let's see - a lot! For starters, I changed responsibilities at work. I'm no longer working the visa window. Instead it's now all American Citizen Services all the time. And that comes with some advantages. For example, I was required to travel to Erbil for a special case, and while I was there, I actually got to get out into the community a bit. Including this iftaar:

You can't tell how much I'm sweating here, but let me tell you.... and I only brought the one suit up for this visit, so... Anyway, the craziest thing about that iftar was that it was held in what was basically a giant cage. It was on a soccer field that had been built by USAID, made up of that nice artificial turf. Then it had chain link walls and a webbing over the top. There was but one small door that was the only way in and the only way out. Our security officers *hated* the venue for the evening, but they were well prepared. They even had plans to attach one of the chain link walls to their vehicles and pull it down so we could get out in a hurry if needed.

Crazy crazy. But a great experience to get out and BE with Iraqi people. The women I'm sitting with here (we were designated a special women-only table) spoke only Kurdish, so we didn't have a lot of verbal communication over dinner…. But lots of nonverbal! Just to the left of the woman on the far left was a grandmother and her granddaughter. The granddaughter was totally making eyes at me through the meal, so I was smiling back. Then all of a sudden she got up and ran over to kiss my cheek and give me a hug. She was five. Then she went around to my colleagues from the consulate there to my right. Sooooo sweet!

Certainly one of the highlights of the tour so far.

Sent my first cables today!

They weren't exciting for anyone but me. Totally administrative and for a specific audience, but..... still totally exhilarating!

Heat Holiday

That's what they called it earlier this week when the government of Iraq closed because it was just too hot. Woooowww. And we thought it was bad before! Ha.

It was a good reminder of how much we need our Iraqi staff. They were all given the day off as well, but the foreigners on the compound (US, Jordanian, Egyptian, and otherwise) were required to come to work. Getting things done without the benefit of the locals' language, camaraderie, and their warm bodies to just help us physically push the paper was a real challenge. The next day we were SOOO happy to see them! And we let them know it.

There was a dust storm the day before yesterday. Ordinarily we would dread it, but in this heat, the sand blessedly semi-blocks the sun and provides some kind of break from its intensity. It's still hot, mind you, but the Iraqis have been allowed to work.

More importantly--and likely more interestingly--Ramadan also began this week. Can you imagine?! Fasting in this heat?! We learned in Sudan that although it seems crazy, people still do it. Although it's 50 degrees Celcius or more, you'll see people abstaining from even a sip of water.

This week I was talking with a local staff member about Ramadan in Iraq. Again the bottom line in our conversation was the need for "services." Without electricity, Ramadan here is almost unimaginably difficult. No lights for cooking, no a/c during the day when more people are home early from their jobs to rest when the hunger is the strongest. And less seriously--but seriously!--no decorative lights and no ability to watch all the special movies and TV series that they put together for the holidays. Much of Ramadan is spent visiting family in the evenings and watching entertainment together......

On that note, E and I are working our way through a favorite regional TV series, "Nour." It's Turkish, but has been dubbed for its plethora of Arab fans into Arabic. And they use beautiful Syrian accents. So in the cool of our apartment tonight, we're sharing in the Ramadan entertainment experience of some.... and thinking of those who aren't so lucky.

The Girl with Scoliosis

One of the tough things about working the visa line is that I really can't talk in detail about my applicants - and they are fascinating people! It violates all kinds of spoken and unspoken rules. And since I work the vast majority of my waking hours here, I am left with less and less time to have experiences that I can (or even want to) talk or write about.

That said, I met a girl this week. Let's not talk about where, just that I met her and her mother. And she was traveling to the U.S.  She needed an operation. On her back.

Her scoliosis was higher up in her spine than mine, and it affected her neck and shoulders more dramatically. She was 19 years old, and had a sponsorship through a US organization to have a spinal fusion at a US hospital. Her mother would go with her and help her through the recovery process.

After taking care of necessary business, we talked and I told her I had had the same operation. That is was difficult; that the recovery is long. And she looked at me with fear in her eyes..... I told her that it was worth it. And that it was better afterwards. Her mother looked like she was receiving some kind of divine sign.

I have wondered over the years whether it was worth it, whether I am better afterwards. But in our short interaction, with this sister of my spine, I decided to offer hope. She was on her way with her network of support. All she needs now is to believe that it is the right thing. To trust in herself, trust in her caregivers, and be patient with the healing.

Finally, Those July 4th Photos!

So, it was a long time coming. But finally I have some photos of a few of our activities in Iraq that I can share. 

This July 4th I had the great privilege of attending a naturalization ceremony for folks who have served in the military in Iraq for their requisite time and as a result are eligible to become citizens of the U.S. I traveled with 2 colleagues from work, and we had to get there by helo - so that led to some pretty cool photos.

In this album you will see one of the aforementioned palaces of Saddam Hussein. This one is called "Al Faw" and in commemorates a victory at the town of Al Faw during the Iran-Iraq war. In fact many of the palaces around this country commemorate one battle or another. Al Faw is surrounded by water features on a massive scale, and I believe it is where Hussein kept his exotic water fowl and game. On the inside it was brash and gaudy. Like the massive chair, it was just all so over the top.

The ceremony itself was ... moving. Candidates from 23 countries who've been serving in Iraq were honored for their contributions, and the values of the U.S.: diversity, democracy, freedom, were all lifted up in a particularly concrete context. We all got a little teary. One 4th of July I will surely not forget!

Someday We Will Have the Same

We've been thinking about Sudan a lot recently. Today is the big day for the South! I still can't really believe the series of events there has led up to independence. The birth of a nation. We are grateful to have witnessed some of this transition, and to have work with/been close to those who were part of making it peaceful. Peaceful-ish. Hopeful.

The big screen tv in our office is on right now. BBC is showing continuous festivities: banners, flags, crowds. Goosebumps.

I was sitting at my desk when we turned on the tv. My Kurdish co-worker was standing near by. He looked up and said "someday we will have the same." We caught each other's eye and smiled. He's not kidding.

This is a day of expanding my understanding of what is possible politically and geographically in the world. I am in awe of the dreams of these people.

The Dust and the Glory

The glory was theirs. I sat down to write today about the amazing naturalization ceremony I attended earlier this week. I have photos and everything to share! But instead my mind has gone to the soccer game I witnessed this afternoon - starring you know who. What a show.

It was roughly 120 degrees at lunch today. The game started at 5pm - and I'm going to hazard that it was still nearly that hot at game time. The sun was fading into a haze of dust. That helped moderate the intensity of the bright heat, but the dust - ugh. In my eyes, my teeth, my hair. Between my toes inside my shoes.

The teams were made up of a mix of local staff, third country nationals on contracts in Baghdad, and a lonely blond American. He was playing for the mostly pan-Arab team. Trash talking abounded.

The field was one of those new rubber "grass" surfaces with the soft green blades and tiny black recycled "pebbles." It's good for grip and impact, but horrible for post game. Those little pebbles track their way back home into every nook, cranny, and corner. Grrrrrrrr. Settled in between the grass and pebbles on this particular field was a thick layer of ultra fine dust. Every time a player makes a run for it, a trail of dust is kicked up and floats behind him until it's caught by the scorching wind and blown onto the fans (me) on the bleachers. So pleasant.

This was no "pretty boys game." Seriously. The weather and playing conditions brought out the animals in these guys. When one of them mustered up a sprint, it would be followed by lots of groaning and lifting of shirts. Then even more trash talk.

And on this day, with aspirations of revenge, the glory was theirs. Not exactly a beauty to behold, but some animal, primordial, brute strength thing came out there on the field. And it was great! Guys coming out and not being held back by the horrid environment. Yeehaaaa! Now to go wash out that sand from my mouth and nose.

Talkin' 'bout Electricity

E got his hair cut today. Fresh! Looks niiiiice.

And we got to have a little adventure as well. One of the best Saturdays so far, to tell the truth. We went out with a driver to another of the military bases in the IZ to do some shopping, to see what there was to see, and perhaps to snag some authentic local food if we were lucky. Wonder of wonders, we did all that and more! It almost felt like a "normal" weekend day. (I won't go into all the asides that come to mind as soon as I typed that sentence.... all the reasons why it isn't in fact normal, only "normal," but I'll let the punctuation do its job.)

So after shopping in the palace that has been converted into a double-layered hexagonal mall of sorts, we stopped at the barber. To my relief, this barber's shipping container (since that what serves for buildings around here, almost as often as not) was air conditioned. Ahhhh. A nice break after the mall. Which was not.

And I picked up the Cosmopolitan sitting there on the coffee table, but after thumbing through a few pages I had to put it down. It's so much about sex, and here I am the one woman I've seen for the last hour in any direction....sitting in this air conditioned container with foreign men on my left and foreign men on my right..... I couldn't do it.

Instead I started talking again with our driver. Our driver (as you know from our previous adventures, drivers are often our best guides/interpreters of the local scene as well as Arabic conversationalists) had started chatting with the man on his right. He had come in from the shop next door. Perhaps for a haircut himself. Or perhaps just for a bit of cool. They were talking about the lack of electricity. (These containers on the military base can run off of generators the USG provides. Off our mini-grid though, power is unpredictable at best.)

I listened for a bit, and our driver brought me into the conversation, saying, you know, before the dictator's time, they had everything here. Now, after he is gone, they can't even run their lights or air conditioning. It's a very difficult life. The line of discussion ran through the current leaders of various parties. Who is making what separatist kinds of statements, who is allying with whom against whom. But it kept centering back to: who is going to get the power going again so we can get back to work?

It's basic stuff. That's what I read about in the papers too. Iraqis protesting the lack of services. Still I was surprised to find these concerns so real, and so close at hand. In a country with so many resources, happiness--and perhaps even some amount of peace--depends on when regular people can get the kind of electricity and basic services they had decades ago but haven't been able to re-establish.

Someone Else's Adventures in BGH

This week I came across an article that took my breath away. You'll just have to read it to see what I mean. Someone else's adventures - but they give a sense of the context outside these four walls in a way that I could otherwise only imagine.....

Jet-Skiing in the Triangle of Death

A former advisor to the U.S. commanding general in Iraq returns to Baghdad as a tourist and eats, chats, and listens to locals cover the Bee Gees, while pondering the country's future.

BY EMMA SKY | JUNE 21, 2011

The taxi driver to the Beirut airport tells me that yom al-qiyama (the day of judgment) is approaching. There will be a big explosion soon -- a very big explosion. The revolutions sweeping the Arab world are not good. Islamic parties will come to power everywhere. There will be no more Christians left in the Middle East. Believe me, believe me, he insists. In anticipation, he will make the hajj to Mecca this year, inshallah. I tell him that I am traveling to Iraq as a tourist. The look he gives me in the rearview mirror says it all: He thinks I am crazy

I am heading back to Iraq nine months after I left my job as political advisor to the commanding general of U.S. Forces-Iraq. Earlier this year, a sheikh emailed me from his iPad, "Miss Emma we miss you. You must come visit us as a guest.  .  .  

What Time Is It Anyway?

Now that E has arrived I have lost track of time. There's no longer the concrete decrease in some chronological increment as I look forward. This week I feel like I have tumbled ahead day after day after day. Is it Monday? Today is Thursday? Did a weekend come and go?

This morning I realized that it has been since Sunday that I've talked with my family. Sorry about that, guys! There's a new routine to get into now. I need some other way of tracking the days. Most people count down to their next R&R. That keeps them safe from the achronous flotation that I seem to have found myself in.

I suppose striving for mindfulness would be the preferred alternative...

Now - I'm not saying that's completely out of reach. But today, as I see another groundhog day ahead of me, I wonder...

What a strange and funny thing is time.

Oh Happy Day!

That's right. E is here!

Everyone I know here is saying that I hadn't looked quite right until now. Wide wide wide smiles.

There were many things about being here that were bearable before. Now, I might actually find joy in them!

Life is good.

And Speaking of Palaces....

In case this didn't make it across your desks or coffee tables already, this one is worth a read....

Bye-Bye bidets! US troops leaving Saddam palaces

By REBECCA SANTANA, Associated Press 

BAGHDAD (AP) — Available soon: nine palaces in lakeside complex frequented by visiting kings and dictators, beautiful molded ceilings and light fixtures, many bidets, Saddam Hussein mural and former prison cell. As is, with Tomahawk missile damage. Contact: U.S. Army.

Thus might read a real estate ad for the Victory Base Complex, one of the many properties the U.S. military is vacating as the Dec. 31 deadline for its withdrawal from Iraq approaches. It will leave behind probably some of the most elaborate, some would say tacky, office spaces ever used by American soldiers, sailors or Marines.

The U.S. military has been headquartered in the complex near Baghdad International Airport almost since GIs reached Baghdad in 2003. Countless U.S. dignitaries have passed through.

It Is an odd place to work, surrounded by so much Saddam history and grandiosity.

By the time the dictator was toppled, he had built about 75 palaces and VIP complexes nationwide. That is according to the then U.S. military historian's report on the Victory Base Complex written last year.

Touring the complex is a bit like touring Saddam's mind.

There is the Victory over Iran palace, commemorating the 1980-1988 war he started that ended in stalemate and half a million dead. And the Victory over America palace commemorating the 1991 Gulf War in which a U.S.-led coalition drove Saddam's invading forces out of Kuwait.

"Any war that Saddam survived was a victory," said Col. Les Melnyk, the current U.S. military historian in Iraq.

Now the Iraqi government must figure out what to do with all this square footage.

It already is turning a palace complex in the southern city of Basra into a museum. A palace near the ruins of Babylon may become a hotel......

http://www.google.com/hostednews/ap/article/ALeqM5hq793uIPk-C1pp7ioYFA2KXz49Tw?docId=859b938f6a864b1fbc77bbb3bd106745

A Disturbing Thought about Buildings

This morning we were out at one of the bombed out palaces. It's really quite scenic, although it doesn't sound that way. I wish I could share more pictures, but as you can probably understand, it's a bit difficult. There are water features and trees, walkways and birds, and at the center: a monstrously elaborate building with a lofty cupola, and dome after dome after dome.

As I was taking in the view, I was thinking about how strange it is to see such extravagant architecture in a "contemporary" building. I mean, in the other countries in the region that we've been to, it seems the vast majority of stylistically ornate buildings are from centuries ago. Amazing and inspiring, and often vestiges of the past. The buildings from the 20th century tend to be more functional, bureaucratic, modern. Yes, many newer mosques are frequently intricately decorated, but with modern lines and features.

There was something else going on here, and I wondered if it wasn't an indication of a larger societal ill... Like: a city with an immense library or museum, or university, or house of representatives... that makes sense to me. Celebrate public works. Make a gorgeous mosque the centerpiece of a city.

Sure, important people get to live in important houses - especially if they have historical value. But.... these crazy palaces.... built pretty recently.... intensely elaborate, with "classical" materials and techniques......all over the city.... and while the citizens got..... got what?!

The sight left me rather disturbed. Still thinking about it 14 hours later...

How I Spent My Walk Home

Today walking home from work, I took a little tour imagining the fun things I'll do with E when he *finally* gets here next week:

• walking home together!
• sitting on "the corniche" under the misting fans for a drink
• going to the dfac (dining facility) and actually eating there (I always get it to go)
• hanging out with friends at Baghdaddy's
• BBQ-ing after sunset
• chilling by the pool (maybe)
• chasing the shade as we cross the compound
• pretending we're on Roosevelt Island while doing the loop here
• checking out the latest additions to the community gardens

And that doesn't even include all the things we'll likely have to do together for work. One week from this evening, these can start being real! Woohooooo!

Oy! My Aching Hippocampus

I learned this week that the most commonly injured body part here is the hippocampus. That's right, we've been told that we should all expect to have "broken" hippocamp-i  after 60-90 days.

How does this happen? Apparently it's the stress. Living in such a stressful environment has a number of less-than-desirable side effects. You already know about the chunk/hunk/monk/skunk/drunk trends. Well apparently we also have a strong tendency to lose our minds - at least the short term memory part of our minds. And I can see that that will likely lead to losing lots of other things as well....

Bummer.

But, they say it comes back. Within 60-90 days of returning to non-stressful environments. That great! I thought. But then, where can I go that is actually non-stressful?! I guess it's probably relative.

Before this turns into a total downer of a post, let me counter the above with these perks:

• 24-hour massage chairs!
• waffle bar at lunch today!
• they just planted palm trees! 
• getting to watch the late night news/comedy shows before my bed time!

Annnnnnnd that's about it for now. Not bad on the whole.

Greetings from a Friend

Yesterday I took an mini imagination vacation to Roosevelt Island. I was out for a walk in the morning, and after the massive sandstorm, it had actually cooled off quite a bit. Down to about 100, I think. So it was rather temperate.... I was enjoying the breeze and the lack of dust..... and for a moment I was back with E at our favorite walking spot, Roosevelt Island. When I got to the office later, this photo was waiting in my inbox. E had just been to our spot the previous evening to check on "our friends." And he wanted to pass on their greetings. This one's antlers have grown several inches since I last saw him! A welcome face....

what molly is living in right now

check out this youtube video.

shoot me up in the air

E here.

Awww, memorial day in Arkansas! The only way it could have been better was if M was with me. (and of course if Delta didn't mess up my flights once again...)

It has been too long since I've seen my bro, parents, sister in law, niece and nephew. The highlight was playing with the kids in the pool. I can still hear my nephew saying, "Shoot me up in the air!"


Thanks to all who have served and sacrificed, including those civilians who've been thrown into some very difficult environments and lost their lives alongside members of the military. See this great article about just that.

2 weeks till Iraq and a reunion with M! Hope this finds you-all well.

Hot Hot Hot

And it's not even really summer yet.

Today I was walking back from lunch and I started looking at the duck and cover shelters as potential shaded rest stops. It was around 115 and everyone still keeps saying things like "when it gets really hot, I'll..." Ya know what?! It's hot already. Just gonna get hotter, but does saying "it's not hot now" really help?

This takes me back to my walks across downtown Cairo from our apartment to my office that one summer some time ago. On that walk I would stop into little shops along the way just to get a break from the sun. I did end up buying a few cute things too, as a bonus. Unfortunately the opportunities for shade here are of a little different flavor.

I'm telling myself to surrender to it. I don't think there's really any other option. The thing is my Norwegian complexion gives me away every time. The purple tint of my cheeks on walks across the compound (let alone running) is clearly not in its natural environment. And the blonde fuzz? That's totally not necessary here. 

Mystery Solved

Soooo.... this morning I went out again with the running club, and I learned what happened to that first place medal yesterday: They had only 1 set of medals for both the 5 and 10k. So since my buddy and I finished the 5k and kept running for the 10k, they gave the next woman who finished and stopped at the 5k the "gold." Then they had the "silver" and "bronze" for us. Not much consolation for my friend, who actually did win both races. But as I said, I was just glad to have made it across the line in one piece. And smiling.

Third Place!

I guess that little 8k training run I did last weekend had some positive impact. This morning I went out for the Memorial Day 5k/10k and placed third! How is this possible, you ask?

Actually, that's a good question, since as far as I know, there were only 2 women sticking it out for the 10k. Myself included. So.... even if I came in last, I should have been second.

Funny enough, I also placed third for the 5k. And the field for that race was a lot larger (! yeah, like at least 12-15 women, ok?!). It was pretty much my running buddy from last week, several military women, and myself. My running buddy took the lead early on, and I believe she won the 5k. I kept her in my sight, and as far as I could tell there were no other women between us.

By the time we finished the 10k, all the other women had already headed home since they were doing 5. In fact, I was the very last 10k runner to finish. (ouch.) Yet when they awarded the medals, my friend got one for second place and I got the one for third! Perhaps there was a ghost woman out there?! That remains a mystery.

I'm just happy to have finished! Let alone to get a photo and a medal.... Of our little Saturday running group, 60% of us placed in this race.  But it does feel a little embarrassing to have officially finished third out of only two female runners. Hmmmmmmm... :)

Tongue-tired

I'm starting to recognize a pattern. I can go pretty strong interviewing now, but after a couple of hours in Arabic, I stop making sense. It's like I hit a wall. Some kind of foreign-language-interviewing fatigue. I definitely haven't been here long enough to start talking about fatigue--and since my time on the line is pretty "short" compared to colleagues in "visa mills" who are processing upwards of 100/day, I really shouldn't complain.

So I won't make it a complaint. It's more an observation: my tongue seems to get lazy after I interview more than a few hours straight. And although I think I've put the words together correctly, they don't come out that way.

Over lunch I mentioned this to a colleague, and she said she's the same way in Arabic. It's always good to know it's not just you! But what to do about this predicament? Somehow I have to build up my stamina. Another colleague said later that the endurance happens naturally over time. But I'd really like to have some kind of countermeasure that I can apply asap....

Perhaps a sip or two of strong coffee at a strategic time? Or just stepping away from the window and shaking my head/cheeks/lips around? Or blowing raspberries in the air? Something to revive those little muscles. I think I'll probably try all of these - and others, if you have suggestions - and we'll see how it goes!

The Opposite of T Minus One Week

Does anyone know what that's called? When you're not one week out from something happening, but one week past the turning point?

Well, whatever it's called, that's today. Today I have officially been in the office here one week.

So what has changed? Well, I'm standing on my own two feet for many interviews now. I can still ask questions of my peers, but I'm moving at my own pace now, and usually doing ok in Arabic. There's still a lot I haven't seen. But it no longer scares so much bajeezus out of me to imagine what I'll come across.

I also crossed a threshold with the laundry (and I'm surprised how quickly it happened). We have laundry machines on every floor here, and there's also the option to take your clothes to a central laundry to have them washed, pressed, dry-cleaned, or any combination thereof. The laundry room in our building is literally right next door, and yet, having been here a week, I've already caved and made a drop off. I'm still holding out with the belief that I'll still do the basics here in the machines, but for the things that get wrinkled??? Yeeeesh. How quickly the laziness instinct kicks in.

Let's see, other than that? Might be adjusting to the heat a little. Yesterday it was a full three degrees cooler and it felt like an altogether different climate. Still, they say the real heat is coming - and not for a couple more months.

After a week I still think about the daily risks my local colleagues take to come to and from work. I think about it every day. I think about it before I fall asleep at night. I'm snug, nearly like a bug, and they're out there navigating the city. There's brave, and then there's brave. Particularly bad days don't phase them as much, I've noticed.

After a week: I'm no longer such a novice, and still very much in awe of those around me.

Well, I'm really still a novice in many ways, just not in ALL ways here anymore...

All Natural Air Conditioning

It's called sweat.

This morning I went out with a running group. Needed some socializing. Needed an alternative to always working out indoors. And I was up anyway, so.....

And I have had my days of really "being a runner." At this point, I don't know. I run, but I do other stuff too. The Runner is not a major part of my identity. However, to run outside here, you kinda have to step it up a notch. I mean honestly, when it's already in the 90s very early in the morning, and the most scenic places are bombed out and bounded by t-walls....most casual runners aren't really gonna haul themselves out there. (Yes, it's still protected. I'm just talking about the visuals here.)

So we'll see what happens. I've already committed to next week. But we've moved the time up an hour to try to squeeze a little closer to "the cool" of the night. (Side note: it feels like it just flashes from night time to day time here. It goes from dark to HOT and BRIGHT in instants. Perhaps I'm just getting used to being closer to the equator? Or losing my mind?)

And afterwards I remembered that beautiful natural a/c called sweat. It wasn't until we were in Sudan that I learned how good sweat could make you feel. Well here we go again. Plus cold showers, even cold water, take on a whole new weight of ecstasy. So here's to the little pleasures. Ahhhh sweat.

Still Blushing

I can still feel it up the back of my neck, my ears and cheeks. Man. And it still makes my heart pound a little from the embarrassment. I mean, it wasn't humiliating or negative, but I feel silly!

Here's the deal: at each of our windows we have a headset intercom that we use for our interviews. There is also a button on the intercom to page. The page button sends audio to the whole waiting room on loudspeaker.

We usually call the next applicant to the window on the page button, then switch to the headset audio. . .  I think by now you can probably see where this is going. Yes, not once, but twice, I've forgotten to (or mistakenly thought I had, but really hadn't) switch off the loudspeaker function when I click over to the headset, and continued my interview with the whole waiting room listening in. And I should have learned! I made this mistake yesterday, but someone came and corrected it!

I discovered that I was doing it today because the next applicant came to the window with a big smile and started telling me how great my Arabic was. Now, this was my first day trying it in Arabic, so I know it wasn't great. It wasn't even good, really - it was a messy mush of dialect and Modern Standard and English when the applicant could help out. But what can I say? The people were nice....

Lord. Lesson #4,563 in the past 4 days. They say it gets easier.... But if it's 9pm and I'm still blushing??!! Sheesh.

Sand Storm

I've been through sand storms before. In Sudan we used to love going up on the roof to watch the wall of sand blowing in from afar: blocking out the sun, turning the atmosphere bright orange, sending superfine dust into every nook and cranny you didn't even know you had. We used to love watching them come in, but we definitely didn't love having to live through them.

So when people here talked about the sand storms, I thought I knew what I was in for. Except I think we've been having a sand storm kinda nonstop since I got here. That's not something I'm used to. Today it was particularly bad - you could barely see the apartment building across the way, and I almost got lost on my way home from dinner. I still feel the grains in my eyes and on my fingertips - even with multiple washings.

Here, it's more like ever-present blowing dust. It's the status quo. I wonder how long that will be the case? I actually saw some people walking around with infectious disease masks to try to protect against breathing it. Should that have been me??!!

It can make for beautiful sunsets....

Window on Iraq

Yesterday I was talking with several of my new colleagues about the bizarre atmosphere of working here in Baghdad. It is in many ways foreign, but in others it is like being in an extension of the U.S.  I could buy a pack of soda for a BBQ we were hosting last evening at the convenience store (as well as funyuns, relish, poptarts, or candy corn, among other delicacies) and use American cash or credit cards. American fare is readily available in the main cafeteria and across the compound. Many of us have landlines that connect in to U.S. area codes from our desks. There's even a blue U.S. Postal Service mailbox on one sidewalk.

This overlapping, intertwining, confusing, and contrasting of cultures impacts our personal and professional lives in a variety of ways. For some who wish to get a sense of "the real Iraq," they are disappointed. They feel caged in, trapped, insulated. For those who prefer to work in the U.S. or other more westernized countries, but were wooed to Iraq for any number of reasons (temporarily), they are disappointed at some of the more traditional non-western practices and elements that they encounter here. Communication styles, weather, systems of governance, etc can be nearly insurmountable hurdles for some. Me - it depends on the day.

Today I was walking to lunch and I heard the thuhr/dhuhr, the noontime call to prayer (adhan/athan/azan), and I realized it was the first time I had heard the call to prayer since arriving in the Middle East on Saturday evening! Now, that's not sooo surprising, since it's possible to be inside, asleep, or in a noisy place--or, say, on an airplane--and miss those times of day that coincide with the athans. But it's one of my favorite parts of being in a Muslim region, so I was keeping an ear out... and nothing!

The sound prompted a conversation about consular work in Iraq. Some colleagues in other sections have complained that seeing, or actually meeting with, "a real Iraqi" is like finding a unicorn. There is so much hoopla between the embassy and the rest of the city. Consular officers, on the other hand, have the privilege of meeting and interviewing real Iraqis every day. For that I feel lucky and truly grateful. Yes, for the most part, I'll be on one side of the window, and they on the other. But we get to see each other's faces. Speak to each other (in a language hopefully more than one of us understands). And in that way we get to engage.

Makes me happy to think about going to work tomorrow.

Chillaxing with AFN

Whew! What a first day. The sun rises so early here.... or maybe I've just been far away from the equator for too long. Why don't I remember early sunrises in the summer up north in Montreal? Hmmm, I'm afraid that if I follow this train of thought in my current somewhat delirious sleep-deprived state I might never make it back to what I originally sat down to write about. Which was.....

Well, that might be a lost cause by now. Let's see, yes, first day at the office. Most of that I can't talk about. But I can tell you that it looks like good company out here.

Good spirits, upcoming vacation plans, recent vacation stories, close-knit friendships. There are little lovingly-tended community gardens in the middle of the cluster of apartment buildings.

This evening I came home to put my feet up and try to get to bed early and catch up on lost sleep. When I turned on the tube, I chuckled to myself. I had forgotten how Armed Forces Network (AFN) was filled with reminders not to steal army equipment, ways to make your marriage to a foreign national official, and pointers on how to vote from overseas interspersed with mainstream shows from a few days ago on American networks. It is a strange rhythm.

Counting the minutes till it's late enough to call family on the other side of the planet ...

Leg Three

So here I am. Not quite at the final destination, but on the ground in Iraq. There's wifi here, to my surprise, and it sounds like construction and helicopters. It's so dusty everywhere that I'm already feeling it accumulate on my fingers as I type. Yuck. And I can smell it here as well, I just realized. Something I'm sure I'll get used to...

And all is well. Flying in over the sun-bleached khaki landscape, scrub and dunes feathering out into dry river beds. Not much in the way of the living. As we approached Baghdad I saw the first patches of green. Long skinny farms stretching down to the Tigris. It reminded me, in a funny way, of the way farms were zoned in Quebec (seigneuries), so that every tenant/landowner had some access to water. Pretty smart idea.

First things first. After deplaning and checking in, we headed straight for the cafeteria. They were serving, among a myriad of other things, lobster. Oh yes. But only on Sundays, I'm told.

Outside it's hot, but not broiling. Nothing like the hair-dryer-in-your-face feeling of stepping of the plane in Khartoum. Well, at least not yet. I hear that the real heat starts next month. I'm able to sit here in the shade quite comfortably (if only this durn laptop wasn't so hot on my lap, it would be even pleasant).

With this my move is nearly complete. Hoping to be settled into the new home some time later tonight. More then!

Leg Two

I enjoyed my last vegan pizza for some time (soy cheese and veggies!) in the New York airport, then boarded the plane for Amman last night.

I was getting used to being the only blonde in the crowd once again. Scanning my flying companions, trying to eavesdrop a little and get the sounds of Arabic back in my head. I trudged down the aisle and was settling in to a row full of children under four (where were their parents??!!), when who to my wondering eyes should appear, but my good friend and colleague from PXP days in Jerusalem! She was seated directly in front of me. We stared at each other for a long time. And I'm afraid my jaw dropped in a very un-ladylike way. Then we stood up and hugged and talked all the way until our plane was literally pulling away from the gate and they made us sit down. I was not alone after all!

We both then tucked in for the long haul feeling happy to be reunited after perhaps two years of not seeing each other. Before our plane was in line for take off I had started the first movie of my journey (The King's Speech! Finally!). And as I was getting into it, I became aware of a man's voice, loud, insistent, and not apparently engaging anyone else in dialog. I turned around to see him praying, performing salaat in his plane seat (with limited prostrations), and remembered again what a different culture I am heading into. Worlds were colliding - but not in a bad way.

The flight passed uneventfully and as I bid my friend safe travels for the last leg of her return to Jerusalem, we promised to stay in touch. Now I am perched high in my hotel overlooking Amman. The sun is setting behind me, lighting up the bright white of the buildings on the opposite hill. There are huge white and grey clouds in the sky too - very unusual here, and it looks like it might rain! My taxi driver apologized for it, but I'm thrilled, as where I'm headed, I don't think rain is in the forecast for some time yet.....

It feels good to be back in the Middle East, great even. I love the shape of the trees here. The color of the earth. I love the shepherds with their sheep in the streets. The beat of the music. I love the white stone in the buildings and the urgency with which this city seems to be putting up more beautiful more modern more sky-scraping towers everywhere you look. It's a different world over here.

And yet tomorrow will be ..... well, I imagine it will be quite different yet again.

The Elephant

(Alternate Title: Why We Decided to Serve in Iraq)

There are thousands who have gone before us. And I'm sure there will be thousands more to come. From those we have known, some of whom have served multiple times, we've learned the importance of articulating a few points about our reasoning with the decision to go to Iraq and certain expectations.

Why did we decide to go?
E and I have similar, but not altogether identical, reasonings here. For me, this decision is about integrity. We wish to continue working in the greater Middle East, and Iraq is the elephant in the room with every Middle East engagement effort. I want to be able to pursue my professional and personal relationships with that region and to be able to speak about what the U.S. is doing in Iraq from first-hand experiences.

Being able to go to places like Iraq is also a major motivation for my having joined the Foreign Service. I want to be able to apply energy, skills, and knowledge in places that need it most. I have learned over the past few years that there are limits to what I could do, and where I could go, from the NGO world, and I'm eager to find a way in now with more established systems of support.

On Communications
Ixnay on the word "regular" here. We anticipate being able to communicate with friends and family often while in Iraq, but we're stressing the importance of not setting the expectation of a "regular" schedule. As with any location of great distance, there are a huge number of variables that can interrupt communications at any given time. Iraq will be susceptible to those and then some, and our friends and advisors suggest that the expectation of "regular" causes far more harm in stress and anxiety, than good.

When Reports of Bad News Hit the Media
This part will be really tough. Bad things are still happening in regions very near to where we'll be. When the media reports a tragedy, we ask that you not assume the worst. Our parents will be on the forefront for questions about every large and small report from all ends of their communities. We will communicate as often as we can, and keep them as much up to date with situations as they unfold as we can. But there are going to be gaps. Acknowledging this in the beginning should make getting through those bad news reports just a little easier.

And Finally
We are grateful for the support and well wishes of friends and family. We will do our best to stay aware and safe. We will try not to cause un-due worry. And we'll try to get in a good story or two when we can. Peace, love, joy to all.

Leg One

How long does it take to get to Baghdad? In my case, five days. Today is day one in this first leg. Off to NYC for some meetings and meetups with friends.

Leaving DC is never easy. So many good friends here. And before I jump off into my new reality, I thought it would feel good to reminisce a little about the best times these past five months:
1. getting to see "old" friends!!!!!!!!
2. the new gang in my A-100 and the ever-expanding network of new friends that leads to
3. Roosevelt Island in every season - Thank you, deer, for coming out to say goodbye last night. E and I appreciated it.
4. skiing
5. getting back into learning mode
6. walking to everything
7. good meals cooked by delicious friends (especially since we were on kitchen hiatus)
8. ROLLER COASTERS

I look forward to the next time, DC. Now be good to E while he's still there and send him out to me quickly!

New Nerdly Tools

Shining moment of my day: Today I learned that there is a whole suite of online tools that I am not only *permitted* but *encouraged* to use for collaboration with my inter-agency colleagues while in Iraq. Blogs! Wikis! Messenger! Shared Docs! My heart is a-flutter! Reduced access to public social media may not be the end of the world after all....

Starting to make the goodbye rounds

I've been watching my colleagues make their goodbye rounds and now I'm starting to see how it feels. Kinda weird when they insist on paying and say it will be my turn only when I'm back safely. Hmmmm.

Training today made me so sad about the last several decades leading up to where we are now with Iraq. That said, our teacher emphasized that while we probably won't be turning the wheels of history ourselves, we may actually have a chance or two to hear them turning, and maybe even to brush up close or lean against them and nudge them just a little. And that is what gives me hope.

T Minus One Month

Today is April 11. One month till I depart for Iraq. The to-do list is growing rather than shrinking. At least every day brings me closer to E's arrival there as well. Here's to 30 more days together in DC then the countdown to togetherness once again overseas.