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!