Sandstorm!

OK, so nothing like the picture posted earlier in my blog, but still - it had the makings.

I walked out of work around 5:30 and the sky was sort of eerily...sandy/brown colored.  It was a little more humid than usual and the air seemed thick.  The sun was blocked and the wind was blowing.  And usually the air is pretty dead still. 

Sand wasn't blowing everywhere, but it freaked me out.  I thought...this must be the beginning.  It's going to hit anytime.  I picked up my pace to get home and I wondered if I should call James to warn him to leave soon so he didn't get stuck.  I wondered if we would get shut up in our house for days, and I was worried we hadn't scavenged enough food from the grab and go for our fridge and we would starve.  And by starve I mean we would get really, really hungry for 24 hours. 

No storm.  But I can't describe how strange it felt.  I've lived in all kinds of weather, but I've never felt anything like that.  Strange color, strange stillness, and the uncomfortable expectation of the unknown and un-experienced fear.

I guess that's what is scariest here in Baghdad - not having ANY idea what to expect from anything.  When the rocket hits will it be loud?  Will it throw me or bust through the wall?  When the sandstorm hits will we be blinded or stuck inside for days?  When I show up with my paper money at home will anyone take it?

Yeah, it's a strange new world.  But I figure it's going to help me overcome my fear of anything, including and especially the unknown by the time I get back.  That would be a nice blessing.

acronyms

As mentioned the State Department and the military are huge (HUGE) fans of acronyms.  The funny thing is that now that their paths have diverged here in Baghdad they're discovering that they have acronyms with the same letters that mean different things.  Which basically throws a huge wrench in communication.

I rarely understand a thing that is being said, but occasionally I make up an acronym and throw it in the mix cause I figure no one's going to notice.  And if they do, they won't want to admit they don't know it so we'll all carry on. 

A couple nights ago at a farewell barbque for one of my colleagues, as we were saying goodbye, I said, "and hey...K.I.T., k?" 

He looked at me blankly.  I said, "uhhhh, it's an acronym - I'm trying to fit in.  Keep In Touch, dude." 

He said, "You're 13."  In shock.

He missed the point.  13 was the last time we made up so many acronyms that we didn't have to use real words.  What does that say about the DOS and MIL? 
Face.  (and yes, I am 13.)

A Glitch in the Matrix

 I haven't seen the Matrix.  I know, it's shocking so get it out of your system and when you're done being shocked that I missed it, come on back and keep reading.

Ready?  James HAS seen the Matrix.  And loves it.  I know this because he finds an analogy for everything to the Matrix.  

Recently, he started telling about a concept in the movie that they called "glitch in the matrix."  You think your world is real, and then you see little glitches that make you wonder.  Things start to unravel.

James and I have started calling out to each other what these glitches are when we see them.  Some might say the duck and cover is a glitch.  Other glitches could be the bus stop sign....on our one street home... and no bus.  Perhaps the streets named "Hollywood" and "Peachtree" - seriously?  Anyway, you get the idea.  

My most favorite glitch is the money.   Well, the coins.  One day we went in to the PX to buy some household supplies.  I gave the cashier my good, American money and my change was a dollar bill...and these:

I thought it was hilarious that he was clearly handing me back cheap cardboard tokens for my real money... and that he thought he could get away with it.  I cracked a joke, "Oh, yours look pretty good, but the ones I've been making at home look even better."

Blank stare. (Granted, English wasn't his first language, but come on.)

I also find it funny that they are called "gift certificates."  As if I had gotten a gift from the store and not actually earned that change.  And that this gift certificate could be redeemed for 25 cents.  Wow! 

Some might also say it is funny and maybe a bit ironic that on the "gift certificates" is the slogan Operation Enduring Freedom (how much can it endure with cardboard change I ask you?) and the representation of that Operation is a camel and a soldier staring each other down.

"That's right camel...you heard me.  I'm here to bring you enduring freedom.  You gonna get on board or make it tough?"  I say that's a battle we can win!

I make fun, and it really is a little crazy, no?  I mean when I leave here do you think Banana Republic and Albertson's will accept my gift certificates?

Duck & Cover Take 2

3:45 am.

Sound asleep.

Suddenly a wailing siren and the words, "You must take cover..." are blaring into my consciousness, jolting me awake.  I have finally found a way to be awoken that is even less pleasant than my dad's trick when I was in high school of turning the light on at 6am and dragging all the covers off the bed until I woke up. 

Imagine you are sound asleep and suddenly someone is standing with a megaphone right next to the side of your bed screaming "Get out of bed or die!!"  Accompanied by a fire engine like siren.  That's what it felt like.

James and I lept from bed, and bleary-eyed and half conscious, we fled to the bathroom.  Where we sat on cold linoleum for about 15 minutes.  Staring at each other. 

I asked, "Do you think I can go to the bathroom while we're in here?"  Don't ask me why, but at 3am it seemed logical that sitting on the pot might lead to death.

It was shocking.  I don't mind ducking and covering when I am already awake, but I am a gal who values her beauty rest.  This ain't cool extremist people.  Go to sleep.  Let's deal with death when we're alert, huh?

This morning we learned there was a bomb in Baghdad that killed 5...apparently that was what the duck and cover was all about.  We were luckier in the embassy than the poor Iraqi's in the city center.   And this is a "lull" in the violence.  Seriously, not cool.

This is Real

This morning was my first day working from the TV studio.  When I arrived Sergeant C., my trusty instructor, wasn’t there yet, so I sat in the semi-dark studio alone catching up on emails and other work.   (Note: the TV studio is tucked away from everyone else, and has a lock on the door so only people in the know - about 3 - can get in.)

As I sat there, they ran a duck and cover alarm drill – presumably to keep people in practice since we haven’t had a real one in over a week.  It reminded me of the same drill they ran yesterday. 

James and I were up in HR together when it went off, and James forgot it was a drill.  His face got very serious, he touched my shoulder and walked with great purpose over to his backpack to collect his things….and…to do I’m not sure what.  It was pretty funny to me because the last few days, whenever we walk outside, he asks me “Are you ready to run? You better be ready because I can’t run ahead of you and I want you to get there fast.”  And. He’s very serious.  And it was, yes, a little funny to see him react to what he thought was a real drill with that uber serious face and determined step.  I did tease Captain Safety a little, but I can appreciate his concern.

However, it’s been so quiet that I really haven’t felt any concern. 

And then it happened.

(Duck and Cover Bunker)

 About 20 or 30 minutes after the drill a real duck and cover alarm sounded.  At first I thought it was just another drill.  It wasn't.  Now I'm a little freaked out.

I looked around the dark studio, I walked over and looked at the locked door.  I walked back to my desk.  The alarm said to get away from windows and to a safe place.   We have a big window in the studio, but not an outside window.  I thought the studio must be safer than most places since it was insulated and central.  I also really wanted to see what others were doing, but I was afraid to open the door.  I didn’t know what others were doing.  All of this happened in about 5-10 seconds and I knew we only had less than 10 seconds to be where we wanted to be.  (Clearly making the U.S. a non-option at this point.)

At any rate, all these thoughts are going through my head, I’m feeling very alone and scared and thinking “is this how it goes down?” and I crawl under the desk…looking at the giant window and thinking:

1. I hope you (the window) don’t explode
2. Open your mouth!  I was supposed to cover my ears and open my mouth so the impact doesn’t concuss me.  But I keep forgetting to breathe through my mouth!
3. How long will I be under the desk, it’s very tight.
4. I wish my first aid kit wasn’t stuck in our UAB shipment somewhere in Iraq – this would be a great time to have it.

And feeling:

1. Terrified of the impact.  I get scared fairly easily and loud noises I expect are frightening enough.  I felt alone, I couldn’t see anything happening, there was no one by me to ask questions, and I knew I would start screaming and crying if I heard/felt the rocket hit the building.

It ended after about 10 minutes.  I crawled out from under the desk relieved and wondering where the rocket hit.  This is something that people here are used to.  Some soldiers have to be asked to actually get in the duck and cover and stop smoking when the alarm goes off because they have become complacent.

I assure you that I did not feel complacent.  My first IDF (indirect fire), and I won’t forget how it felt.  I still feel tears just below the surface - and I will not be laughing at James’ requests for me to be ready to run.  It is a unique and terrifying experience to be in a war zone, and I’m not sure if it helps or hurts to be living in a summer camp environment where you feel a false sense of safety.

On the other hand, I am in the most protected area of the country.  I can more fully empathize (while still not touching the tip of the iceberg on understanding what they experience daily)  how the Iraqis outside the green zone must feel every day…and not just when the random duck and cover alarm sounds.

Shock the World

I may have mentioned to some of you that right before I left for Iraq, ye olde state department called an audible on me.  They decided that since they were losing the military contracts who ran the television studio, that I would be the best available option to take over.

Never mind that I have never worked in a television studio.
Never mind that I am not a "technically" minded person.
Never mind that I will be responsible for creating live feeds for outlets such as FOX, CNN or CBS should they want a live interview with the Ambassador or General over here....and that it would be in real time....and that I would be SOLO.  That means no one to ask wtf(ace) is going on when it doesn't work. 

I'm not complaining.  It just seems like these are things they may have considered.

Yes, so never mind all that, I have happily accepted the challenge.  With great trepidation.  And some excitement at learning a new thing.  But mostly, at this juncture- trepidation.

Friday I was starting to feel some semblance of peace about it all after meeting the military guys who will be training me.  I started to recognize that many of the shoots themselves would be pretty basic and straightforward.  However.  That peace disappeared today when I showed up to watch them record the General doing an interview with a local media outlet. 

As we were setting up, my buddy Buenavista (Sargent B to you) started walking me through the trillions of tiny buttons on the switchboards, decks, satellites, etc.. and saying things like...(no joke, these are real):
"You want to start with this button to avoid a...black burst"
"If you have a problem, CNN may ask you to peep the bird"
"Last time we worked with FOX they got really mad about our polarity problem."

Are you KIDDING me??  I have no idea what a black burst, peeping the bird and/or polarity is.  At ALL.  I was struggling just learning the new acronyms State and the Military were throwing around and now I have a third language that makes no sense. 

It's fine though.  I'm writing down every crazy thing they say, and the first time CNN calls I will cut them off at the pass before they can say a word with, "Don't worry guys, polarity has never looked better and when I peeped the bird there were no black bursts to be seen."  I imagine they'll be fairly shocked by my media brilliance.  That's a 10-4 good buddies, one way or the other it's time to Shock the World - Quinn(Dewey) style.

Gotta run...there are birds to peep.

Summer Camp Rules

High Security Summer Camp
Cruise Ship Prison
Fort Fluff
Camp Cupcake

These are some of the names I have heard the Embassy compound called in my two days here.  I am certain there are more.  They do feel rather fitting though, and as James and I left the D-FAC (Cafeteria in lay man's terms) last night, smiling and licking our soft serve ice cream cones he said, "This is the best summer camp ever!" 

At dinner we connected with some of his old friends and laughed while eating food selected from one of 5 different food stations.  And we were invited to join an ultimate frisbee game, a gardening club, a soccer team and go swimming.  They are bringing in some local Iraqi girls on Saturday to do a day of fingernail painting, swimming, and crafts.  Surely the best name is High Security Summer Camp.

Of course I heard mentioned in hushed tones on 3 different occasions today, "We haven't been hit in over a week."  It gets the same volume as when someone says, "She has cancer."  If we say it quietly enough I guess the extremists won't hear us and may just forget about us altogether. 

Oh well, in the meantime we'll blithely eat endless ice cream and then go work it off at the gym with our camp buddies.  And sometime very, very soon I hope we will sleep.

The Eagle(s) have landed

Last night I didn't sleep well.  At one point James woke me up and said, "Are you OK?  You're shaking."  I can't remember what I was dreaming about, but I do know neither of us felt particularly rested at 6:00 am when we got up.

With some trepidation we got in a taxi and headed to the Jordan airport to board an Embassy Air flight to Sully Air Base in Baghdad.  We were each allotted 70 lbs.  You'll be glad to know that I was under my limit.  The State Department guy checking us in let us know that we wanted to be under 70 lbs so that we didn't go on the bad boy list.  Unfortunately when James put his stuff on the scale, he was 3 kilos over (about 6 lbs) and Mr. State informed him, "YOU, are on the bad boy list."

He let us through, but asked James to try to be a good boy next time.  Please note that the guy who used to travel with only a backpack everywhere is the guy on the bad boy list.  I'm not trying to draw undue attention to this, I just want to make sure it's, you know, clear.

We boarded our plane for baghdad and it felt very much like a normal commercial flight....except for little details like the safety sheet.  Note the title.


As we started to descend it appeared that all color had left our world.  Sort of like the beginning of the Wizard of Oz in Kansas before they introduce the wonderful innovation of techni-color.   Brown and tan everywhere you look.


At the base they warned us that you usually have to bunker up for anywhere from a couple hours to 24 hours until it's safe to travel on the rhino.  We were lucky.  As soon as we touched down they told us--the rhino is ready to go, so let's move through passports fast, fast, fast!  Gladly.


Next step, putting on our helmets and body armor and climbing in to a giant armored vehicle called a rhino.  I'm telling you, this is the weirdest dream I've ever been in.  And that gear is heavy---I was debating if I wanted to protect myself from shrapnel or a major headache.  I opted for the shrapnel and kept it on.


We journeyed safely through the city and arrived in about 30 minutes at the green zone.  What a relief!  And they told us we had brought the best weather yet with us--only around 105 and no humidity.  Fab!  It really didn't feel horrible at all.


And here's the part where James' eyes just lit up and he started sparkling:  free. food. everywhere.  No joke.  He was positively giddy that he could walk into a store or cafeteria, or what-have-you, take what he wanted and walk out WITHOUT PAYING.  It's like his life-long dream come true.


So here we are.  And it doesn't feel too scary yet.  Apart from the constant reminders to be ready to duck and cover, and the different stories we get from everyone to talk to on whether it is safe to be outdoors, it's like an amazingly nice, well-stocked, high security prison.  With lots of people carrying guns.  And better workout equipment.  And no shivs....that I've seen.


We are settling in.  And hoping for a nice long rocket-drought.   Is that so much to ask for?

Things is heatin' up

“You have a cut on your face.”  A man sat next to James and I on the plane with blood dripping down his cheek.  He was aware and informed us that he had another run-in with his razor while shaving.  Apparently it is also a technique he uses to frighten children in to eating their vegetables.  Don’t ask me to explain this strange technique; I am only a recorder of true facts. 

Turns out he is also on his way to Baghdad and has been on one of his 3 week R&Rs.  We asked him what it was like at the Embassy and he said, “Well, it’s sure gonna get interesting in January!”  Perfect. 

There was an article today on MSN about one of the extremist clerics who was calling for his people to stop attacking the U.S. Embassy.  Hooray!  Ah, but if you keep reading you learn that it is because he wants us to leave the country and he knows we won’t if the violence continues.  Fine.  Fair enough.  It’s the next statement that is chilling however.  “However, al-Sadr warned that "if the withdrawal doesn't happen ... the military operations will be resumed in a new and tougher way."

How exciting!  What perfect timing to plan an exciting holiday in Iraq. 

Our thirst for adventure will finally be sated as we get front row seats to the fireworks in this new and exciting chapter in our nation’s politics.

It was nice to hear our seatmate confirm that they are all expecting January to be as exciting as this cleric has promised.  Asalemu alequm Baghdad.

Reality Strikes

This morning I woke up scared.  Our last day in Lisbon and perhaps I’m finally starting to realize what lies ahead.   When I’ve told people that I am moving to Baghdad, it always felt like a story I was telling and not an actual reality.   Perhaps because I have no previous experience to compare it to and no way to visualize the experience other than the terrifying images they showed us in our training of people with their eyes blown out and missing limbs. 

I know that the only reference points I had stored away of simulating high speed car chases and practicing counter surveillance techniques were from Jason Bourne movies – not from anything even remotely “real-life.”  Honestly, it’s all so fictional, how could I be expected to take it seriously? 

Well, today I had the first twinge of recognition.   I thought to myself as I realized it was our last day, “how sad – vacation is over and we’re flying home tomorrow.”  Not quite.  I suddenly realized we were NOT going home and I felt my first real butterflies.  This is it…I’m going to Baghdad.

(And does anyone else think it’s odd that across the street from our hotel in France was a cemetery?  Or that these are the pictures we kept seeing on streets?  I for one don’t, but I’m not happy about the cemetery/ headless person theme.)

 

Portuguese Delight

I am writing this for posterity.  If you are EVER in Portugal, do NOT forget to buy this delicious dessert:  Travesseiro.   This directly translates to “pillow”, and I assume it was given that name because it has helped my stomach to take on the shape of a pillow. 

We had to wait in a long line for it in Sintra, but it was hot and delicious and melt in your mouth goodness.  What a way to go out baby.

(They are found at Piriquita.)

T-3 to an endless summer

Yesterday afternoon James and I arrived in beautiful Portugal.  We happily sang the praises of the summer weather as we touched down.  How nice to leave rainy, cold Paris and arrive in 89 degree Lisbon with a beach in sight.  Oh how lovely summer weather is in September. 

Today I looked up the weather for our last couple of days here and then on a whim I looked up Baghdad.  What joy!  What delight!  Our summer heatwave continues!  If 89 is good 100 is clearly better right?  107 degrees the whole week.  What luck!  Perfect weather for a beach....or... perhaps.. an indoor Olympic size pool?

T-3 until our REAL vacation in the land of endless summer begins.

Gay Paree

The eagle has landed.

And we are tired.  But not too tired to consume chocolate croissants, jam, cheese and lemon crepes, hand dipped chocolates and a delicious french meal.  No the first part of the list was not part of said meal.

Ah, how I love Paris.  The only thing that kept me from my bed with this horrible jet-lag was the knowledge that I only had 24 hours to eat as much french food as I could stuff in my greedy little mouth.  Lovely.

Baghdad gym...get ready.  You have your work cut out for you.

Shoe-less James

As James and I ran around like chickens with our heads cut off yesterday trying to complete the to-do list, James was thrilled to find a cobbler who could fix the sole of his dress shoes.  Shoes he was wearing on our errands.  The cobbler told him he could pick them back up at 2pm.  It was 10:30 am.

James thought we would just be running around for a bit, but getting visas and such was a bit more complex than anticipated.  He ended up wearing just socks for 4 hours.  In the rain.  And to the state department.  It must be said that he wasn't embarrassed about this at all until we arrived at state, but then he feared that a future boss might notice his odd shoe-less state.  Apparently no one looks down in that building.  Just upwards to bigger and better things.

It did give me the biggest laugh I've had in a long time to see James running in wet socks all day long.  So I thank him for that in the midst of a very emotional day and week.  Here are some photos that only attempt to capture the moment.  I wish I had taken some in state department amidst all the very "shoe-d" and we take our jobs very seriously states-people.

The To-Do list is done.

Yeah.  So, I have never had quite as many checklist items on my to-do list as James and I had over the last 6 months.  And that checklist was being checked off right up to last night when we finally boarded our plane to Paris.

Let me tell you about some favorite moments.  First, AT&T.  Turns out, they will not let you cancel or suspend service when you go to Iraq unless you are military.  Apparently our service to the country is less valued, and hey, that's fine.  But look, the fact remains that we cannot use our service in Baghdad and that we have no option, but to pay exorbitant fees while not using our phones.  Our customer service rep was helpful, but come on, seriously?  This may be a bigger racket than the gym membership, which at least lets you out of your contract if you move 50 miles away from the closest franchise.  AT&T, get a grip.  You're not exactly winning hearts here.

And this may have been my favorite moment with customer service so far.  We were talking to USAA about our car insurance when they tried to up-sell us on some additional personal insurance.  We asked her what conditions it protected us from and she listed fire, robbery, and a few others as examples.

We said, what about sandstorms?  Her answer:  Not EVERY sandstorm, we're a little picky about which sandstorms we would cover.

How about Mortar fire or rockets, do you cover those?  Well...she hesitated, that is also on a case by case basis.

We politely refused.  Since we consider these to be our main safety problems.  Which let's be honest, is odd in and of itself.

But seriously....I ask you, how can you evaluate damaged goods by rocket fire on a case by case basis.  And sandstorms - exactly what is the differentiation?  Why on earth wouldn't these qualify on equal ground with a fire?  Is it fear that someone might claim a sandstorm at a beach in California of their own creation?  Or that someone might shoot an accidental rocket at themselves, and such a dumb action really doesn't deserve coverage?

Points to ponder people.  Insurance is a funny business.