Saturday, September 22, 2007

Out of Iraq

I flew out of Baghdad this afternoon and landed in Amman a couple of hours ago. I'm excited to spend a couple of days here going to Petra and the Dead Sea, getting a massage at the luxurious Four Seasons and doing a bit of shopping.

That said, I'm really sad about leaving Baghdad. Our crazy frat house had become my home, and the guys had become my brothers. And as war-torn as the city itself may be, I feel like it's my war-torn city. Saying goodbye was really hard -- everybody came outside to wave me off, and I wanted to cry. J, my American coworker, is one of my favorite people in the world, and I hate that I won't get to see him every day anymore. I think it's going to be very strange to go back to living alone.

Fortunately, A is in Amman at the moment as well, so I don't have to totally divorce myself from Baghdad quite yet. We're going out on the town tonight and to Petra tomorrow, so hopefully it'll take my mind off of being sad.

Friday, September 21, 2007

The quest for alcohol

We're throwing a party tonight because I'm leaving tomorrow, which led to a hilarious quest to buy beverages. It was sort of a ridiculous proposition in the first place -- buying alcohol in an Islamic country, on a Friday, during Ramadan. Poor planning led to the Friday part of that equation; the rest was fairly unavoidable.

There are a few remaining liquor stores in Baghdad, and a few of our guys -- a Christian and a couple of lapsed Muslims -- know exactly where to find them. We asked G, the Christian, to go to the liquor store where he usually buys Amstel and Corona, but it's closed for the entirety of Ramadan (which raises a question about how its proprietor supports himself, no?). We knew the location of two other stores, but they were closed too. At this point, we began to panic a little bit, because we had invited 25 people over and we figured they would be expecting alcohol. Somebody told us that there was a liquor store near the PX in the Green Zone, but we soon learned it had been shut down because soldiers were buying alcohol, which they're not allowed to drink.

And then a British security consultant next door told us about the "tactical shop," which reportedly sold beer out of a sketchy little trailer in a remote part of the Green Zone (U.S. officials call it the International Zone, or IZ). We got step-by-step directions and set out. Getting there requires a complicated series of turns at intersections marked only by small yellow signs proclaiming "tactical shop." We drove off a paved road, essentially into a dump, and saw a series of battered trailers. Sure enough, one of them had two signs: "Tactical Shop" in yellow and "IZ Liquor Store" in green. The trailer couldn't have been more than eight feet wide, and the passageway was even narrower than that because of the cases of beer stacked high on both sides. We got two cases of Corona, one case of Amstel, four bottles of wine and a bottle of Absolut (for mixing with pomegranate juice).

The party is on.

Wednesday, September 19, 2007

Chaos

So I've been terrible at posting this week. I apologize. It's my last week in town, and life is basically chaos. I'm trying to finish two different long-term assignments while following major developments this week. Our two best staff members quit this afternoon, a decision that may not stick but is not good for the office.

And then there's Blackwater. I just wrote that "Sunday's shooting has inflamed deep-seated frustrations with Blackwater among Iraqis, many of whom view the company’s contractors as highly paid bullies who fail to respect citizens or customs of the country where they work." This is probably an understatement. Iraqis hate Blackwater contractors, and it's hard to blame them. These guys are making hundreds of thousands of dollars a year (I think the average salary for a contractor in Iraq runs about half a million) to drive around like bad-asses in their SUVs with M-16s poking out from the sunroof. They are arrogant, disrespectful of Iraqis and somewhat thuggish. I hate to generalize about an entire 1,000-person operation, but I have never had a good experience with Blackwater. Essentially, Iraqis see Blackwater as epitomizing everything terrible about Americans.

It will be interesting to see whether the revocation of the company's license sticks and if the Blackwater guys are forced out of the country. It would be a huge turnaround, considering the prestige their contractors have carried for the last four years. Whatever happens, my American colleague had a point yesterday when he said "Damn, it's nice to see the Iraqi government sticking up for it's people."

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

Shopping, redux

I got to go shopping with two of my coworkers yesterday, which was a rare chance at true freedom -- no work, just looking for pretty things to bring home. S wanted to buy a painting for his mother's house in Baghdad, A wanted art to decorate his family's new home in Amman, and I went along for the ride.

With the exception of the bodyguard lurking outside, it felt fairly normal. We walked around a series of adjacent galleries, compared our favorite paintings, chatted with the owner and generally had a good time. I bought an absolutely amazing painting -- it's hard to describe, but it's an abstract painting of a couple of "Baghdadi doors," a minaret of a mosque, etc. It's royal blue with other bright colors (lots of gold) and some raised texturing. It's going in my bedroom when I get back.

The gallery owner was clearly pretty desperate to make a sale -- when my coworker asked about the price of the painting I was looking at, he said "Oh, whatever you think." We eventually settled on $20 American for something that was similar to pieces that people were charging $150 for in American military compounds. These guys can't make a single sale most days, so having three people walk in with money to spend was pretty exciting. All told, we gave him the equivalent about $100 American (for five paintings, one of them framed), and he couldn't stop thanking us.

Sunday, September 16, 2007

The roof

I have a confession to make that will disappoint most of my good friends. When I moved into our house, directly next door to a 12-story hotel, it didn't occur to me to go up to the roof of said hotel. Even when I began spending most of my leisure time in the hotel, I never went higher than the third floor. I'm a failure.

That said, I finally made it up yesterday. Oh my lord, it's amazing. I'm disappointed in myself for not seeing it before now. You can actually see the entire city from up there. The Tigris glimmers on three sides and the golden minarets of mosques tower in every corner of the city. I lost my breath for a moment marveling at the beauty of Baghdad, and spotting the carcass of a bombed car a few blocks away didn't totally ruin the feeling. My head felt clearer during my 15 minutes on the roof than it has since I've been here.

A couple hours after I discovered the roof, J and I were driving by the river. J glanced at the sun setting over the Tigris and sighed. "Sometimes I love this city," he said. I couldn't agree more. Everybody warned me that Baghdad would get under my skin, that I would love it so much that I would never want to go back. I won't go quite that far; I'm pretty excited to see the Bay Area and New York and all my favorite people. But Baghdad has become part of me, and I couldn't be happier about that. I may have to find a way to get back here at some point.

Tomorrow I will take pictures from the roof, I promise.

Friday, September 14, 2007

Iftar

It becomes a bit difficult to think through complex assignments at about 6 p.m. after a full day of fasting, so the break-fast at about 7:15 p.m. is eagerly anticipated at our office. For the past two days, every single person in the house has gathered for Iftar together as soon as the sun sets -- the first time since I've been here that we've all eaten together. We all gather around a television where the government-controlled station counts down to official sundown, an occasion marked by a clip art depiction of a firing cannon. Then all 20 (or so) of us gather around the dining room table, where food is abundant.

Perhaps it's just nostalgia now that I'm in my final week in Iraq, but Iftar has been really meaningful for me. After 10 weeks of working and living with these people in very close quarters, I do feel like they are family, so it's been pretty great to celebrate the holiday with them. Our Iftar parties have been similar to an American Thanksgiving -- a somewhat dysfunctional family, all crowded around a big table, laughing and stuffing ourselves. It makes me glad I'm fasting so I can be a part of it all.

Thursday, September 13, 2007

Ramadan

Ramadan begins today. Living in an Islamic country during holy days is fascinating. Restaurants close altogether, since there's nobody to buy food during the day -- everyone fasts. Among my coworkers are a large number of people who don't practice Islam (no prayers, no visits to the mosque, in several cases no belief whatsoever), but they all celebrate Ramadan. Celebrating only high holy days is obviously not limited to Muslims, but when it's such a huge commitment -- no food or drink during the day for an entire month! -- it seems particularly striking.

Because everyone at home is fasting, I am too. We'll eat two meals a day: a break-fast/dinner at 8 or so, then something light before we all fall into bed at 2:30 (or 3, or 4...). I don't really eat during the morning anyway, and if I'm running back and forth to different meetings I occasionally miss lunch, so I don't think this will be a huge problem. And no, it's not the first step to my conversion.

There is one definite problem, however. I'm leaving tomorrow night to go on a trip with the military for three days. Since I'm only fasting because everyone else is fasting, presumably I wouldn't do it around soldiers (it would be a bit awkward to say in the dining hall that I'm not Muslim but I am fasting for Ramadan). Additionally, soldiers work incredibly hard in still-brutal heat, so I think maybe I should not pass up opportunities for fuel -- and the idea of working outside all day without water sounds unappealing. On the other hand, plenty of Iraqis do the same thing...