The Simple Things

I am happy today.  No.  I feel JOY. 

When you live in Baghdad it really, truly boils down to the simple things folks.  Like no duck and covers ALL WEEK.   How 'bout them apples?  (I have to admit as soon as I write that I get jumpy that I'm setting us up for one..)

The last couple days have been filled with little pleasures that I would probably fail to appreciate if I was back in the States.  Listed in no particular order:

1.  The powers that be allowed local farmers to come in to the embassy compound on Saturday and hold a small farmers market.  I bought fresh fruit and vegetables.  And EGGS!  Oh, joy!

2.  Today with my vegetables (that included jalapenos- bless you Iraq -) I made a batch of fresh salsa.  It was the most heavenly thing I've tasted since I've been here.  Thank you Kristin's cooking blog for the delicious recipe: http://efnrecipes.blogspot.com/

3.  My mother sent us our first care package.  HOORAY!!  It included, M&Ms and they didn't melt!!  There is no chocolate here because for some reason it always melts in transit.  My chocolate chips that I sent through our shipment were one solid block of chocolate when they arrived.  Through my mother's brilliance our chocolate drought was saved.  In her words, "I just figured it would work, cause, they melt in your mouth - not in your hands."  Brilliant.  Other awesome items in care package- mascara, halloween decorations, the wedding magazine our wedding was published in, and all kinds of food stuffs for cooking.  Bless you Delsa.  Good show!

4.  I just noticed that everything is about food.  What can I say, I'm a simple girl with simple needs.

I never knew a jalapeno could make me weep with joy.  Or that m&ms were the hero of the chocolate world - but this Baghdad after all.  And life is good.

Zero

Well, this weekend the breaking news was NO troops in 2012.  Looks like the negotiations are done, and Obama has made his decision.  I was asked to shoot the Western media round table with the Ambassador for this announcement.

I have mixed feelings.  I do think it's time to bring our guys and gals home...people are tired of the Iraq war and it's hard to see if there are real benefits.  On the other hand, since being here and talking to the troops I get the sense that they don't feel ready to go.  Some are ready of course, but many feel like their mission isn't over.  They want to help put the pieces of the country back together and to help stabilize the area - leaving now feels a bit like failure.

Leaving also creates potential problems with Iran.  And most importantly, it impacts me.  And the other embassy diplomats here. 

Suddenly I'm losing not only Subway, but a lot of security.  And it doesn't help when the finger waving, American-hating Sadr stands up and says that he considers diplomats invaders too and that if we stay we should die.  Of course we've just become a lot easier target too, which is nice for him.

I don't know what is right, but living over here has certainly muddied up the issue for me.  Should we stay or should we  go?

The Ultimate Answer to Nature vs. Nurture.

Today we continued learning how to run the T.V. studio.  

I was actually feeling like I had started to make good progress.  I learned the difference between a video distribution amplifier and an audio distribution amplifier, I connected the General to a live feed from Washington, D.C., and I have even been up on the roof and got up close and personal with our satellite dish. 

And then Sgt Buenavista dropped the bomb.  He told me that today was the day we looked at schematics.  You know, so i could actually understand WHY or HOW things were working and fix them instead of just memorizing step by step processes to get things done. 

These are some of the schematics.  They tell you how to troubleshoot a problem by illustrating the flow between all the inputs and outputs...in this particular image, for just the audio in the studio.  (I encourage you to click on the image and really get a feel for this page.)  Just the audio.

So why is this post about nature vs. nurture?  This is a true ultimate fighting challenge.  Have you met my dad?  He tried to fix a shelf for my mom in a kitchen cupboard, and in the process ripped off the cupboard door instead.  

I called Abram when we bought a new TV this summer and asked him to help me figure out the directions and "make it work."  I believe we were dealing with about 1 "input" and 1 "output."

I'll tell you what this means to me.  If I succeed...  If I in fact beat genetics... I am never, ever going to have to ask anyone how to fix a dvd player or, I don't know, how to build a space station again.

Sell-out. Traitor. Deserter.

You heard me Subway. 
Apparently, the fresh eatin' won't be happening here in paradise too much longer. 

For those of you who don't know, we eat in a "mess hall" otherwise known as the DFAC every day.  We are provided with nice food, but after a while the options start to get a little old.  To provide us with some diversity, we have two mini franchises in the building where our Rec Center is housed - Subway and Pizza Hut.

It truly is a nice option once in a while to say, "hey.  i think i want to pretend i live in America and pay for my food... my fast food."  It's refreshing.

Well today in my inbox we were given notice that come November 15th, not only are the troops continuing to ship out, but Subway's going with them. 

What??? 
I can only believe the old adage is true, "If you can't take the heat get out of the kitchen."  They see the writing on the wall.  And that writing says GET OUT WHILE YOU CAN.

Which Subway employee is going to decide, hm...the troops are leaving?  The Embassy will be largely unprotected?  Yes, sign me up to go to Baghdad and make sandwiches.  Sounds divine.  I'm sure if there is one thing that would make a career in sandwich-making even more inviting, it's doing it in Baghdad.

Well, fine.  Another step towards desolation.  Farewell Subway - thank you for sharing your fresh eating with us for as long as you could.  I really didn't care for your sandwiches anyway...but...

...Pizza Hut....don't go.  Please.

Ka.....BOOOOM!!!!

That is the sound that sent me flying off the living room couch at 11:35pm last night. 

James was sick, so I thought I'd let him get some rest and sleep on the couch.  I fell asleep around 10:45 or 11, when all of a sudden I heard something that sounded a lot like, well, a bomb.  Or what I imagined a bomb sounded like from my many years of movie-watching experience.

This is what I know:  It was loud and it exploded...and it sounded close.  Really close.

I flew off the couch and the explosion was soon followed by, "neeee noooowwww...duck and cover...stay away from the windows...." as I ran around the corner, James came flying out of our room looking like a mad scientist (hair on end, eyes bugged out looking left and right, arms waving).  I guess he panicked when he realized I wasn't in bed with him.  And something exploded.  That's an important point.

We both huddled in the bathroom on the floor, sick and dazed, and then finally crawled back to bed. 

Usually I fall right back to sleep after the alarm, this time not so much.  I'd heard the duck and covers, but I'd never heard actual rocket-fire.  It sucked.  Big time.  I spent a long time awake, thinking about rocket fire and how I'm pretty sure I don't like it and how I still had 11 months left here.  I imagined all the scenarios of us being shellacked by bombs and rockets with the military gone, and I didn't like the picture I was painting.

So I thought about Lindt chocolates pelting me instead and fell right to sleep.

This morning when I went to work I discovered where the rocket hit.  And I don't think I can say too much here, but I will tell you this--I can see where it landed from my window, and our apartment is right in the line of fire, oh, within throwing distance.  You should take in to account I have a remarkably good throwing arm, but still. 

In the building next door to us we can see where some of the shrapnel hit the windows. 

We're back to normal now, but it all just got real-er.  I hope this is as real as it gets.  Time to put in a request for a new apartment. 

Date Night

Due to the fact that we live a groundhog-like (the movie) existence here, and we have very limited movement and options of things to do, James suggested we start having a date night and getting creative.

I thought that might be challenging considering the fact that we live on a one street compound where daily life involves: waking up, exercising, walking to work, walking to the DFAC for lunch, walking back to work, walking home, going to the DFAC for dinner, and then reading, playing a game or watching a show on our i-pad.  And going to be around 9:30 pm.  Yes, you read it right.

James was up for the challenge.  On Friday night he planned our first date night - and it was quite creative.  Massages and a trip to an art museum.

How? you ask.  (you do, you really do.)

Well, it just so happens that in our med center there are 3 massage chairs that we are allowed to come in and use at our leisure anytime we need to decompress.  So James and I enjoyed about 45 minutes of heart (and body pounding) massages in those chairs. 

Next, James had discovered that there were some famous paintings on the second floor of the building we work in.  So he took me on a very exclusive tour.  We rode up to the second floor, walked over to the two painting, looked at them and commented on them and thoroughly enjoyed just the right amount of culture in our lives.  (in my opinion.)

That folks, was a more creative date than I've been on in a long time.  Ironically in the states where we have so many options at our fingertips, we usually end up with dinner and a movie.  Don't you wish you were in Baghdad where creative dates abound?

 

Better than US Weekly

Are you freaking kidding me? 

Every day I get a stream of press clippings in my inbox because I work in the Public Affairs section.  All the news related to Iraq and the region that the team finds gets consolidated and emailed.  Usually I skim it and if I find something interesting, I read the article. 

Today....today.  Oh, today I stopped in my skimming and laughed out loud.  And it's not funny, it really, really isn't.  But sometimes the shocking makes you laugh.

Examples of headlines I see every day are, "There will be forces in Iraq, but very limited number" and "Still no immunity offered for U.S. trainers."  In between two of those I see this gem:

Sadr: If my finger were American, I would have cut it off (al-Sumaria, October 10)

(I can only assume he's showing us exactly which one here)

I'm sorry, that is ridiculous.  Because seriously, IF his finger were American I highly doubt he would have it cut off.  I mean that would just be stupid and it would just be hurting himself.  How would he point so effectively? 

James suggested that he might just have his finger renounce it's citizenship - it seems much more logical than amputation.

Basically, there are numerous routes he could choose while still saving the American finger.  Why so hasty, friend?  I can tell you this, if I had a finger that was Iraqi, I would make peace with it, and use it for good.

If you're interested here is the full quote:

"In a response to one of his follower's question about some Iraqi officials calling to keep U.S. forces in Iraq, Sadr said, "I am not satisfied with the presence of the occupiers. I am not content with the presence of U.S. forces, military bases, instructors, security companies or the embassy."

Sadr added, "If my finger were American, I would have cut it off."

What a gem.  Now THAT'S news.

(Note:  I don't like how that bodes for us at the Embassy come January.)

WHERE IS MY BED???

I know that you are all probably bored of reading about Duck and Covers by now, and frankly,  a lot of people here are tired of them too.  In my last D&C post, I mentioned that they are quite shocking, but I didn't realize exactly how disconcerting they are until last night.

It was about 2:45 a.m. when I was jarred from deep sleep by the siren blaring and the megaphone in my ear "Duck and Cover...."  I can't explain how it feels - but it's shocking.  I bolted up in bed, looked around, tried to figure out where the heck I was and who was yelling at me, and then I got out of bed and plodded to the bathroom floor.  Totally disoriented.

James seems to be impacted a bit more strongly than I am, and is clearly not only more disconcerted, but all his survival skills kick in to high gear.  He is always worried that he has survival tools nearby in these duck and covers....like bottles of water (he can't really go longer than 30 minutes without water), first aid kit....and in the house - a blanket and pillow.  I'm not totally sure why, because I've never heard of a D&C that lasts longer than 45 minutes and I've never been in one longer than 15...and seriously, I'm not going to go back to sleep in the bathroom, wake up and move back to bed again in that amount of time.  Plus I'm a little too wired at that point to sleep.

Last night I noticed James had a blanket around his shoulders when we got to the bathroom, but I didn't pay much attention to it.  I did wonder why it was just around his shoulders and we didn't spread it on the cold floor to sit on, but I was tired, and I don't talk when I'm tired.  A few moments later the duck and cover ended and we were told it was safe to go back to bed.

As I walked into our room, I saw James standing on his side of the bed, looking confused and holding a sheet in his hand.  I glanced next at the bed and saw that it was completely devoid of any type of covering.  Did not compute.  He looked confused, I felt confused and then I realized....James had taken the sheet, the blanket AND the comforter with him off the bed when he left for the bathroom.  What neither of us could figure out was WHY.  Why would he do this???

I was so tired and PMS'ing and irrational that I was suddenly furious that I couldn't get in to bed.  The only thing I wanted was to get in bed....why. couldn't. I?  (fist shaking at the heavens...why???)  I simultaneously knew that I was being irrational, and that it would only take a few minutes to make the bed, so I tried to control it, but as we stood there making the bed together I kept asking him, "Why?  Why would you do that?"  And he kept trying to explain himself, with words like uh, and um,  but of course he couldn't.  So I (of course) asked more.

It was the most surreal, confusing experience yet of our short marriage.  Today I thought about it and laughed out loud because it was so strange, so Iraq, and so "James".  But last night...

Popcorn (not) Popping

Last night James and I decided to watch a movie and make popcorn.  We had never used our popcorn maker before and we were really excited.  As you can may have deduced from the picture to the left, things did not go as planned.  Pliers are not usually a necessary tool in the popcorn-making process.

When I pulled out the popper, things were jangling around inside the machine.  I looked for the on-off button and it had broken and fallen inside the machine.

First James and I tried to turn it on with pliers and see if it would still work, but instead it almost combusted and filled our kitchen with smoke.

Fine.  So we tried plan B, and cooked it on the stove.  45 minutes later we had about 1 bowl of popcorn, a handful for burnt kernels and a less than delicious treat.  This is a tragedy.  Popcorn was going to be one of my "treats" here in Iraq and not only has our popcorn maker been destroyed, but we never even got to use it once.  I shake my fist at the FS shipping people.  You....(fist shaking)...

Well, time to go to the mysterious PX where you can find everything and nothing and see if they miraculously stocked a popcorn popper this week.  Probably next to the garage door opener.

The Coins

On Wednesday we recorded a remote presentation that the Commanding General needed to give at a dinner in the States.  (General Austin). 

His entourage showed up first to make sure everything was set up appropriately, so that it would run smoothly when he arrived.  Everyone seemed a little nervous and anxious to please him.  I had no idea what he looked like, but when he showed up you understood why people listened to him.  He had a very commanding presence and he felt like a leader.  Of course I wasn't intimidated because, well, I directed Morgan Freeman...once. (j/k)

I introduced myself to him and started to mic him up.  He asked me where I was from and I told him, "Michigan."  He asked if I was a wolverines fan and I replied that I was.  He thought I should meet someone in his office to talk football and I told him that we would only enjoy that conversation for the first 5 or 6 games until they started a slow decline for the rest of the season.  He got a big kick out of that.  Then I told him my other team (the red sox) had imploded that morning and we had more good conversation about that. 

I thought he was really kind and impressive, and I made him laugh a few times and during the rest of the shoot when there was a break he would ask me questions like, "So who does Michigan play this week?" 

After the shoot, he took some photos with the soldiers there and chatted about how many tours they had been on.  When he finished he reached his hand out to shake mine and I said, "One tour."  He smiled and said, "We need a picture with this young lady too."  So, I was honored to get my picture with him as well.  You can see we are about the same size.  Give or take.

What really surprised me was a few minutes after he left, the Sergeants and I were chatting in the studio about how the shoot went and General Austin suddenly came back in.  He held his hand out to me and gave me one of his coins. 

For those of you who don't know, the military guys here have coins.  They give them out to soldiers when they do a commendable job, or as a reward.  I got a coin from General Helmick last week after filming (he gave one to the other guys there and one to me) and he told me, "The deal with the coins is that you always have to carry it with you.  If I see you and ask for the coin and you don't have it - you have to buy me a drink.  If you do have it, I have to buy you a drink."  Mostly it is an honor for the soldiers to get coins, and it's a sign of recognition for a job well done.

I was so surprised and flattered that he would come all the way back to give me a coin, and after he left for the second time, I was even more honored when his aide commented that he has never given one to a civilian before.

So this is my moment of pride.  I got a coin from General Austin.   And whether you get it or not, that is pretty cool.