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.)
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