Thursday Thoughts

We continue to have internet problems here in our barracks. Apparently, our influx of new residents has overloaded their antique server. So for four of the past five nights, our internet has crashed hard. I've been very frustrated. Living in a war zone is such a bitch!

I discovered this new brand of potato chips in our DFAC. The name says it all. Well, no, it doesn't.

Yesterday was a big day for those of us who are Navy. It was the Chiefs' promotion. Unlike the other services, when an enlisted sailor is promoted to E7, he or she enters into a whole new realm of responsibility. The Navy Chiefs are a special community - they are expected to be leaders of their sailors, trainers of junior officers, and advisors to more senior officers. They even wear a different uniform than junior sailors. Well, except here in Iraq, where they have to wear the ACU's or DCU's (meaning the pajama uniforms like all the other services). And unlike all the other services, all Navy Chiefs go through a rigorous training and indoctrination period together and are all promoted on the same day. Together. Yesterday was that day. Twenty seven sailors were promoted to Chief in a beautiful and moving ceremony at Al Faw Palace.

The Chiefs marched in as a unit singing "Anchors Aweigh" - and very well, too! After the National Anthem was sung a cappella by a Navy Chief, and Rear Admiral Morneau provided some very poignant remarks, the Chiefs were "pinned and covered" - meaning their anchors were pinned on their collars and their new cover with the Chief's insignia was placed on their heads.

Making Chief is not easy. It's a major step in a sailor's career. And this young lady, a newly-minted Chief, had tears streaming down her face. She wasn't the only one.

Congratulations to all our new Navy Chief Petty Officers! You all still make me proud to be part of your company.

Black Monday

Our drawdown is gaining steam. Today, most of our support contractors were notified that their services will no longer be required and that they'll soon be sent home. Some will leave in as soon as two days, while others will be here for two or, at most, three weeks.

I don't know quite how to make the impact of this event clear to you. Many of these people have been here for two, three, or more years. Some arrived in the summer of 2003, when the war was still fresh in everybody's memory. These people have seen our presence ramp up, they lived through the insurgency, they survived mortar and rocket attacks, and all the while they built bridges and water treatment plants, schools and electrical substations, clinics and oil pipelines, and literally thousands of other projects. Their corporate memory is phenomenal. But now we're drawing down, with only a couple hundred projects still ongoing and very few left to start. Fewer projects means fewer people to monitor and manage them. So all these people with all this experience are going home.

Their work is going to fall mostly on those of us who are employed by the government, whether civilian or military. It's going to be very difficult for me, personally, I am certain of that. I've only been in-country a year, and working for the Corps for five months, so my corporate memory is pretty small. (My wife says that all my memory is pretty small ... and I won't argue that point!) So I'm going to be back on the steep side of the learning curve again, probably starting tomorrow. Damn, and I was just getting to the point where I thought I knew what I was doing!

A friend of mine from the Embassy visited us today. He and I had a good time catching up on the news ("hey, didja hear about ol' (fill in a name here)?") Later, I took him over to Flintstone Village. I visited it back in May and wrote about it here. I saw a few interesting changes. Most notably, a local Boy Scout troop came in and painted over the graffiti in some areas. Here's what one room looked like in May:

And here's what it looks like now:

Quite a difference! The marks you see here are not graffiti. The Scouts have painted the walls with prints of their own hands, flowers, and birds. Here's another section of wall in the same room:

Of course, some other bozos have already started tagging the freshly-cleaned walls. Let's hope they get sent home soon, before they can do any more damage.

Wednesday Update

I've been wanting to post an entry for the past couple of days, but our internet in the rooms has been down in the evenings. Our net here is better than it was in the IZ. It's faster and they don't have those ridiculous filters, the ones that blocked me from updating or even accessing my own web site. However, now that my command has settled in to the barracks, we've overloaded their system. So it runs fine until all of a sudden it crashes. And that's the end of your access until the next day. Come to think of it, I better get busy ... it's just after 8 pm and it's about lights-out time for our Net.

So I finally got around to taking a few pictures and thought you might be interested in seeing a little bit of my world. Then again, maybe not. But here they are, anyway.

This is my room. As barracks rooms in Iraq go, this is top-flight. It's in a real building, with real furniture and a real bed. But you have to remember, this is a real Iraqi building ... meaning nothing is quite straight or flat, there's no ventilation (see that a/c unit on the wall? It just recirculates the same stale air). But after living in a shipping container that leaked dust, this is the Ritz.

Of course, being an artist, I have to have a place to paint. Here's mine. I've got an easel on order right now, which will be a huge improvement. Remember what I just said about the lack of ventilation? Well, that means that the fumes from the Iraqi paint thinner don't go anywhere. They stay right here, even when I leave the door open. I put in a few hours worth of painting the other day and felt like I had hangover the next morning. Ugh! I learned later that our windows really do open, so I'll have 'em wide open next time I paint. (And for you artists out there: I haven't found a local source for a decent solvent, so I gotta use paint thinner from the local economy ... and it's the nastiest stuff on earth. All I know for sure is that it's petroleum based - nothing else could stink like that.) On the brighter side, the paint thinner smell is gone now, leaving just the lingering fragrance of the paint's linseed oil, which to me is wonderful ... but then, I am an artist.

And here's a shot of my desk and our workspace. Looks like a bunch of cubes in a monster industrial building, doesn't it? That's because it is a bunch of cubes in a monster industrial building. It was originally one of Saddam's mints ... maybe the one where he made all that counterfeit American money. It's much roomier than our old digs in the International Zone, for which I'm grateful.

I've written several times about our reorganization and transformation flail. My part is done (at least for the moment) and it has reached critical mass up at the high levels where the decisions have to be made ... and should have been made months ago. I've got an idea of what will happen with me, but it could all change in an instant. For now, we sit and wait. We're scheduled to shift to our new organizational structure next week. It would be nice to know what that structure might be, before we do the switch!

An Anniversary

Today is an anniversary for me. One year ago today, I first stepped off the plane at Baghdad International Airport. I was nervous, excited, worn out from the trip, unsure of what to expect, and ready to go do something. All I knew for certain was that it would be an interesting time here. A year later, and that last part has certainly been true. I've worked for the State Department and now the Corps of Engineers. I've made a gazillion PowerPoint briefs, written information and decision memos, researched data, participated in way too many meetings, made some great friends, organized this and oversaw that, become an expert in the afternoon on things I didn't even know existed that morning, been under guard in the Red Zone and wandered freely in the Green Zone, and have not regretted a single moment of it. (Well, maybe some of the meetings).

Whenever I go home, people ask me, "What's Iraq like?". I don't know how to answer that. It's hot. It sucks. It's great. Wonderful people. Terrorists. A different way of life. Like being in a minimum-security prison. You can make an impact. You can't make a dime's worth of difference. You're valued. You're treated like shit. No time for yourself. Great pay. Not worth it.

Iraq is a maze of contradictions. When people ask me what Iraq's like, they're looking for a sound-bite insight into something that would take a thousand "War and Peace"-size tomes to even begin to understand. Like the blind men and the elephant, this blog has been my attempt to explain my little bitty piece of the puzzle.

Had I stuck with my original plan, I'd be going home for good right about now. But I changed course back in January, left the State Department in March, and came back on a one-year tour in April for the Corps. So I still have about seven months to go.

There has been a monumental change in Iraq in my twelve months here. Last year, we were in charge. We did what we wanted, we owned the streets, and only coordinated with the Iraqis when we needed to. Now the Iraqis are in charge and flexing their muscles. They don't do things nearly the way we would, and they don't want our help (at least, they don't want to be seen as wanting our help). We're pretty much confined to our bases now. Our convoys roll at night, every night, hauling equipment to Kuwait or Jordan as part of the drawdown and bringing back food and fuel and other supplies for the thousands of us still here. Last year, we were still planning on being here for a long time. Now, we're working on drawing down as fast as we can. Officially, all the military will be out by December 2011. Sounds like a long time, but it really isn't. Unofficially, there's an election coming up in January in which the Iraqis will vote yay or nay on the Security Agreement. If they vote "nay", as they most probably will, then we have to be out of here in January, 2011, which cuts our drawdown time in half.

But for now, I'm just trying to get done what I can get done in my remaining seven months. There's a lot to do. It looks like I'm going to be in charge of two really cool programs, and I'm excited about that. Instead of doing PowerPoints for the high mucky-mucks, I'll be doing things that will affect Iraq and Iraqis for potentially years to come.

But the main thing, for me, has been the people. There are all kinds here. Young American soldiers. Old grannies and grandpops (me included). Ugandan, Peruvian, Iraqi, British, and Gurkha guards. Sikhs, Kenyans, Malaysians, and Australians. The other night, I wound up sitting with a guy from the shop where they repair MRAPs and HummVees. Had a great time talking with him for an hour. This morning, I discovered an Army buddy had been promoted to Major. At our compound in the International Zone, we had a small Band of Buddies, made up of Army, Navy, Air Force, and civilians (me). Now we're all scattered to various other commands, or home, except for the Navy Commander and me, and in a few weeks, it'll just be me. Not to worry: there will be new group of friends formed in short order.

But one thing about being in Iraq is that sometimes your friends don't come back. I lost two good friends on Memorial Day in Fallujah. Terry Barnich and Maged Hussein were two of the smartest, nicest guys I've ever met. I'm not just saying that - these guys were brilliant in their fields, dedicated to the mission, and absolute gentlemen.

Terry is now buried near Chicago and a friend sent me this picture yesterday. Terry and Maged, we still miss you guys.

So. Twelve months down and seven to go. Has it been worth it?

Yes.

Good Reading

For those twelve people in the States who still care about how things are going in Iraq, I offer up a few good articles.

The New York Times consistently has the best coverage of Iraq. That's probably because they're the only major US-based news organization that still has permanent staff in-country. Yesterday, they had a very good article about how Iraqis see Americans. It's well-written and discusses some of the subtleties of the relationship that have profound implications for the long term.

Last week, they had another article about how Iraqis of all groups are co-existing, and even having fun together. There is a large lake out west, in Anbar Province. Now the lake is a destination for day trips for thousands of people from Baghdad and the surrounding area. People are doing what people do at lakes or beaches anywhere: swimming, playing, dancing to music, flirting, having fun.

For a couple of years, the Times has carried a blog written by their Baghdad-based staff, almost all of whom are Iraqis. That blog has now morphed into one called "At War" and covers Afghanistan and Pakistan as well. It seems to have lost some of its personal flavor and become a collection of somewhat impersonal op-ed pieces, but there are still some good postings that provide an insight beyond the headlines.

Most news reports about Iraq seem to focus on death, destruction, and political problems. News outlets always seem to prefer bad news stories. Sells more papers, I guess. But there's another side to the story. Most of us who came here of our own volition did so to try to make a difference in the country. Here's a press release from the Corps of Engineers about a project that was just finished. Yes, it's a press release, so it's not an "unbiased" bit of reporting. That doesn't change the fact that this is a success story, about a large project we (and you - it was your tax dollars that paid for it) have completed. It'll make a difference in the lives of a lot of young kids.

Musings on a Friday Night

I like Fridays. Friday morning is my weekend. You guys at home get two whole days off every week; we get either Friday morning or afternoon off. It's a 65-hour workweek out here. So on Friday mornings, I sleep in late ... this morning was a whole 20 minutes extra. Then I got dressed and strolled over to the DFAC to have a nice, leisurely breakfast. Ran into a couple of friends and we sat there nursing some really bad coffee and yukking it up for an hour. Then back to the barracks, where I did some laundry and worked on a watercolor for a while. This was my first time playing with paints in a month or more, so let's just say I'm a little rusty. Okay, a LOT rusty. Still, it was good to push some paints around again.

The other day, I got hold of the vehicle keys and decided that I wanted something other than DFAC fare for dinner. So I drove down to the BX and treated myself to a Taco Bell dinner. Never been a big fan of Taco Bell, and this stuff was nothing to post in a blog about, but hey, it wasn't DFAC, and that was good enough for me! Went into the BX to pick up a couple of things, and walked out with a couple of new CD's ... one of Eric Clapton and Steve Winwood at Madison Square Garden (it's playing now) and the Woodstock soundtrack. Then later, when I was talking with my wife, it turns out she had just watched the director's cut of the Woodstock movie the night before! Scary, huh?

Things at work are settling down a little bit. Some decisions are being made but the politicking is still ongoing. I've got a pretty good idea of what my little group will be doing and it looks fine with me. Some other decisions, well, would've been a lot better had they gone a different way ...

Living on a military base can be a very different sensory experience. Several times today, I had Blackhawk helicopters flying in pairs directly over my head. Just now, as I was typing this, the guards at the gate were firing their 50-caliber. No, there's no attack, they do that periodically during their watches ... I suppose just to ensure that the thing still works. So I'll be walking between buildings and THUDTHUDTHUDTHUDTHUD from just beyond the wall at the end of the compound. It gets my attention, but gives me a good, secure feeling as well.

Strapped to an Unguided Rocket

That pretty much describes my feeling at work for the past couple of weeks. We're getting down to the wire on our transformation from one type of organization and mission to another. And we're still trying to define what the new organization(s) will be, and what their mission(s) will be. Meanwhile, the "execute" order is looming large. So I've been quite the Powerpoint Ranger lately, preparing briefings on things that may or may not come to pass, outlining options, writing memos and executive summaries, and never quite sure where it's all going. Just like being strapped to a rocket with no tail fins.

Our network problems are gradually getting resolved. After having three guys work on my computer, trying to find all my old emails, finally somebody came along that knew what he was doing. He found and restored them in about five minutes. He's my hero. The rest of the network stuff is still a problem, but gradually, slowly, getting resolved. There's another command that moved with us, though, and I hear that their problems are much worse than ours. They have their own IT guys, so I'm not going to worry too much about them.

We had a bit of an emergency over the past couple of days. One of our people had some medical symptoms that came on very suddenly and sounded serious. I got him over to the medical facility, who very quickly transferred him to a bigger one, and he's going home today. Looks like he may have some serious heart problems - and in going over his condition, I wonder, just how the hell did he get out here? After a triple bypass, five stints, diabetes, and being about 75 pounds overweight to boot? What clown screened him?

Yesterday a couple of us went over to the medical facility, where he'd spent the night, to pick him up. There were three Iraqi detainees in there, too. Two were older gents who were fairly quiet. The other was a younger boy who was asleep. All three were strapped down to their beds. Our guy said that the detainees kept throwing things at everybody in the ward all night long. Frankly, I was quite impressed with how our young American guards handled them - these kids were maybe 20 years old, very professional, and totally calm. Whenever one of the detainees did something (sometimes obviously just to get a reaction), the guards never flinched, never got excited, and responded respectfully. When I think back to when I was about 20, I don't know that I'd have had that maturity.

So now it's time to head back to work and get strapped to that unguided rocket again. Wonder what'll happen today.

Livin' at Victory

I'm settled into my new home at Victory Base. I've got my barracks room slummed out so it's comfortable and have my desk at work arranged just so ... meaning papers all over the place, a coffee cup that needs to be washed, half-empty bottle of water, and a chair set to just the right height. So all is well, no?

No. All my email files disappeared in the move. Four months worth of records just *poof* went away. The same thing happened with about half of the people I've talked to as well. Some of them had records that went back several years. At the old compound, we all used a shared drive. It was supposed to migrate into our new network. Well, something migrated, but what we have now is not what we had then. Looks like some things made it, some didn't, and file names and structures were randomly changed. So we can't find the things we need. And to further muck it up, it looks like all the files done between July 22 to Aug 18 were dumped. We're talking nearly a month's worth of work for over a hundred people, gone.

So the IT guys are not very popular right about now.

Life at Victory is very different than life in the IZ. There, we were in small compounds crammed into a city environment. We had lots of trees and paved streets and sidewalks. Didn't have to walk very far - the commute from my hooch to my desk was (by actual measurement) 1 minute 33 seconds. Being at Victory, though, is like being plopped down in the Arizona desert. It's flat, no trees, gravel roads and gravel walks. Dust everywhere. Everything is spread out, so we have 10-15 minute walks to get anywhere. The sun is brutal. I never had to wear my hat in the IZ, but it's always on my head here. And this past week has been hot. Most days have been 120 or above. It's like walking around in an oven and is enough to literally take your breath away. At least it does mine.

I don't have a short commute anymore. Our workplace is several miles from the barracks, so we have to ride our own special bus. It picks us up at 7 am and returns to the barracks at either 6, 7, or 9 pm. I'm not a fan of being tied to somebody else's schedule but don't have any say in the matter.

Seems like every place in Iraq is staffed with people from a different place in the world. At the Embassy, most of the guards were Peruvian, so I used my extremely limited Spanish with them. At our last compound, we had a lot of Iraqis, so I learned some Arabic. Here, we have a lot of Indians and Ugandans. So now I'm learning some Swahili. It's kinda cool, really.

I've had a hard time trying to post to this blog since arriving here. Our internet server in the barracks has been overloaded with all the new people coming in, and it crashes at about 8-9 pm most nights. Very frustrating. Last night I saw some of our IT guys helping to get it back up. That may be the kiss of death!

One last thought. Two days ago there were two huge truck bombs in Baghdad that destroyed the Foreign Ministry and Ministry of Finance buildings and killed about a hundred people. The Foreign Ministry was adjacent to, but outside, the IZ. I hear that the concussion broke some windows in our old compound. So despite all my gripes, I'm glad to be away from the IZ and living here at Victory.

So that's my first impression of the first week and a half here at my new home. Hopefully, they'll fix our server and I'll be able to post a bit more often. Until then, siku njema! (Means "have a good day!")

A Few More Pictures

I haven't posted any pictures lately, so here are a few that magically appeared on my camera over the past couple of weeks.

"Prosperity" is the name of a base in the IZ. Among other things, it has a thriving batch of stores run by local Iraqis. Lots of stores have these "belly-dancing" outfits, but this is the first I've ever seen where it was displayed on a male mannikin!

Another part of Prosperity. Not all of Iraq is a desert - this area almost looks lush! Until you walk out in the dust and kick up a cloud of fine talcum powder ...

Most of the T-walls in Baghdad are coming down. Not all, though: some around Iraqi bases look like they're going to be permanent. Nobody likes plain gray concrete, so the Iraqis hire locals to decorate them.

In the last week or two at our old compound in the IZ, they closed down the laundry. When they got a batch of complaints, they installed two washers and dryers in the midst of our CHU's. If it looks to you like they're (a) outside, (b) uncovered, and (c) unlighted, well, you're very observant. We were just happy we didn't have a dust storm.

Get Your Move On

This has been a busy week. The big news: I'm no longer in the International Zone. My command has been moving for the past couple of weeks from our old home at Essayons Compound (across the street from Ibn Sina Hospital, for those of you who've been there) to our new location at Area 51 at Victory Base Compound (VBC), which is at the airport. I did the transition on Tuesday.

What this meant for me was that my computer at work was taken offline on Sunday and packed away on Monday. No computer, not a whole helluva lot to do. Break my heart, right? To pack up my desk at work took, oh, 15 minutes, since I was dawdling.

My hooch was another matter. Our internet capability died on Sunday and didn't come up until after I left. I got all my stuff packed up (where did all this crap come from, anyway??) and on Monday we loaded everything into our uni-packs. These are modular boxes, roughly four feet high/wide/long, into which we put all our worldly possessions. I got mine all loaded up and sealed, then went back to my room and lo and behold, realized that I forgot to pack away my sheets, pillows, and blanket. Robert had plenty of space, though, so that's where they went.

I just mentioned the amazing amount of crap that I found I had. Some of the people have been here for four or five years and really had a lot of stuff. One woman needed FIVE UNIPACKS. Yes. I kid you not. I don't know that you could fit five unipacks into a hooch at all, but she filled all of 'em up. She needed one whole unipack just for her shoes. (Remember: that's 4'x4'x4' of just shoes).

Anyway, our stuff got loaded into the conex box and put on a truck. We were loaded into our vehicles and off we went. And when we got here, we found out that the conex with all our stuff wasn't going to make it. Then it didn't make it the next day. Finally, yesterday, it arrived. Turned out that the Iraqi army, who's now guarding the IZ, had been stopping the trucks for all kinds of different reasons: tags, licenses, they wanted to inspect the containers, that sort of thing. Basically, they were flexing their muscles. So our Command Sergeant Major got on the line with some of his other Command Sergeant Major buddies around town and now our convoys of conex boxes have gun truck escorts. The Iraqi army doesn't mess with convoys that have gun truck escorts. It's really hard to shake down a bribe from somebody who has a 50-caliber machine gun.

So now I'm living in a barracks. It's a nice place. My room is quite a bit bigger than my old hooch (not that that's saying much). It's in a real building ... but since it's Iraqi-built, everything is a bit off. I don't care. I'm finally getting all my stuff put away and feeling that my nest is my new (temporary) home.

At work, well, the adventure continues. I'm now on a different network and somewhere in the transition between the old and new ones, all my email files disappeared. Word to the wise: when an IT guy tells you "Hey, no problem, it'll be transparent", never ever believe them! I learned that years ago and it still holds true. They believe they can recover all my emails. They also believe in Santa Claus.

So if you've been wondering where I've been, that's the story. I'm still here and will continue to post. And maybe, just maybe, I can find my old email files at work this afternoon ...

Bummed

I found out today that I won't be going on R&R in a week. This would've been my first trip home since April. The reason - well, it has to do with this command going through a transition in mission and organization, and a big drawdown in personnel, and the requirement for decisions to be made. Not that I'm the one making the decisions, but I have to provide input on a few key aspects, and I have to do some coordination with other organizations outside my command.

The fact that these decisions should've been made three to six months ago is what really pisses me off. And the fact that a certain division in our command, whose title includes the word "PLANS", hasn't done zip. So while the decision-makers and the "plans" division will go home soon, for good, and will probably get awards and praise for the wonderful work they did, some of us will have to stay here and do their work for them.

Yes, I'm PISSED.

There's more to the story, of course, but I don't need to go into that here. I'm not a happy camper. But this isn't the first time that this sort of thing has happened in my career. When you're in, or associated with, the military, shit happens. Plans change.

Way, way back when I was on my first ship in the Navy, we went in to work one morning and discovered we had 48 hours to get ready for an extended deployment to the Indian Ocean. The Shah of Iran had been deposed. A year later, we were back out there when the hostage rescue attempt failed. So I'm familiar with sudden changes of plans. But those were driven by events outside my own command. This isn't. I know who and what made it impossible for me to go. (Well, not impossible ... just extremely unwise ... not just from a personal standpoint, either).

So I'll sit here, stew, and get back to work tomorrow. Hey, shit happens. Get used to it.

Photography by Rob Amberg

My friend Rob Amberg is a photographer. That's like saying Bob Dylan writes songs. Rob focuses his most personal work on Madison County, in the mountains of North Carolina, along the Tennessee border. Now Madison County is about as rural as you can get. It's Appalachia with a capital A, pretty poor, with lots of outhouses still in use. But it's easy to miss the depth, vibrancy, and richness of the people who live there. Rob doesn't. He knows the people and their ways. Most importantly, he treats them with respect.

Rob has had 36 of his photos published in Big Bridge, which is an online poetry and arts magazine. Take a look. Take your time. You won't see a bunch of thumbnails from which to pick the two or three you want to look at - rather, you have to page through them, one at a time, by clicking on each photo. It's slow, like the pace of life in the mountains, and it's worth it.

I have a personal interest in Rob's work, besides admiring it immensely. Some of these photos were taken very close to my house. And I know one or two of the people who appear in this collection. Rob's photos do great justice to my home county.

Coming to a Milestone

My group of friends is about to break up. No, we're not at each other's throats, quite the contrary. It's the drawdown, the move, and the restructuring that's causing the changes. Two of our guys are leaving our headquarters unit and going out to work in the field. They're both energetic, ambitious, smart young guys, and they need to be out in the field doing military junior officer kinds of things, and not stuck in headquarters revising Powerpoint charts. Another guy is leaving - his 6-month tour is up and he's heading home. I'll be going on R&R in a couple of weeks, and when I come back, we'll be just about to put all our restructuring plans into place.

So tonight we celebrated. We went out to our secret DFAC that makes the killer hamburgers. We haven't been in a while because our movements have been very restricted. But tonight we finagled a vehicle and off we went. As always, the burgers were fabulous! After resting up for an hour, some of us went over to the gym at Liberty and pretended to work out. Difficult to do on a fully tummy.

Our move is well underway. Big parts of our buildings are empty - you could play basketball in some rooms, where a month ago they were jammed with desks and people. Yesterday, they shut down the laundry service, the self-serve laundry, and the gym. And the TV service, too, although that seems to have been quite by accident. Our Green Bean coffee shop will close its doors tomorrow. I, for one, will sorely miss it! Nothing like a fine cappuccino in the early afternoon to get you going again after lunch.

For me, the past week or so has been a wild ride, like being strapped to a rocket with no tail fins. I've been part of a group working on future plans for our organization. I had to prepare two decision briefs for the General and the Ambassador. As I was prepping them, the ground rules kept changing - first I had to prepare it with one set of assumptions, then the next day the assumptions were completely different. As we got down to the time for the Big Meeting yesterday afternoon, the pace of change became manic. But both my briefs seem to have been well received, although I don't have a clue what they've decided to do. During this time, I'd also wound up helping an officemate who had two very high-priority tasks and got way too far behind in one of them. His briefs turned out very well; again, we don't know what the final decisions will be. Supposedly, the decisions were made yesterday, but if they were, nobody's gotten around to telling us.

By contrast, today was slow. No pending meetings. No briefs to prepare. Just a few nitnoid questions to answer. A nice change. It won't stay that way, so we'll enjoy it while we can. Meanwhile, our shipmates are getting ready to depart, so we have other things on our minds.

Welcome Home, Scott

I just saw a news report that the remains of Scott Speicher, who's been missing since the first Gulf War in 1991, have been found. Speicher was a Navy Lieutenant, flying an F/A-18, when he was shot down on the opening day of the war over the desert in western Iraq. His plane and body were never found, although some parts of the plane were turned over to us in 1993. Speicher was listed as MIA and the Navy continued to carry him on the roles of active duty officers. Over the years, there were hints that he may have survived in captivity. However, that was not the case. Last week, Marines were led to a site by some Iraqis, where Speicher's remains were dug up.

So one of our own is coming home. Welcome back, shipmate. Now you can rest in peace.

A Really Orange Day

It's baaaa-aaaaack. The dust, that is. Yes, it really is this orange. Damn stuff is coming in my air conditioner in my hooch as I write this, getting all over everything - desk, computer, bed, munchies, clean clothes (yes, I do have some ... or at least, I did).

Our little compound.

Here's how it looks from safely inside.

We'll be cleaning this up for days!

Okay, here's one from inside my bathroom. How would you like to see this sign hanging over your sink? I go through a lot of bottled water.

Workin' like a Dawg

Actually, our working dogs seem to love their job. We have bomb-sniffers that check out every vehicle entering the compound. It's playtime for them - they get to go stick their noses under trucks and into wheel wells and all kinds of places that bombs might be hidden. Sometimes they go around twice, just for the fun of it, tails wagging furiously. They might even go around three times, but their handlers get bored easily and call them off.

I watched them doing a bit of training for the dogs the other day. They hid a little packet somewhere on a random truck, and when the dog found it, he got a reward. Ohmigawsh, he was the happiest dog in Baghdad! Another dog, in a different part of the parking lot, heard the commotion and came over to find the packet and get a reward, too. Hey, that sounds like a good line of thinking to me: "Do I continue to look for something that might be here, or do I go running over there where I know there's something good?" Damn straight! The trainer wasn't too pleased, but the dog found the packet.

We've been going hard for the past couple of weeks. As already mentioned, there are a lot of changes going on in many different things, and all at once. "Flexibility" is the word of the day. I remember a commercial from a year or two ago, where some people are out playing tennis, and then the game suddenly changes to something else, and then something else again, and keeps on changing. That's our world. We're moving from the IZ in Baghdad, which is now controlled exclusively by Iraqis, to the American military bases out at the airport. We're being uprooted from our comfortable living quarters in shipping containers (where some have lived for three or four years) to something new and unknown. Many people are being sent home, sometimes on just a few days' notice. Meanwhile, the schedule for the move keeps changing, which means additional adjustments have to be made. The Army Colonel in charge of my division, who just recently arrived, came in to work one morning a few days ago at 8 a.m., found out at 9 that she was being bumped up to Deputy Commander, and at 1 p.m. was on the road to the new base to assume her new duties. (Gotta tell a story featuring her - will get to it in a minute). And while all this is going on, my group is working with two different customer organizations to nail down some new projects - which will be executed by an organization that has not been determined yet! Sound like fun to you? Actually, I am having fun with it.

One of the things that has really hit home to me during all this chaos is that the man with a plan is the man who gets things done. My boss is a smart guy, has been here a couple of years, really understands how the Corps works and how things get done in Iraq, and he has very definite ideas on what should be done in the future. For some time now, we have been preparing plans and briefings on things that seemed like pipe dreams, and they've seemingly gone nowhere. Then, when the stuff hits the fan, he lays out the plans to the bosses. "You don't like what you're getting from those other guys? Well, why don't you take a look at this? We gave it some thought a while back, and here's what we came up with ... " Fifteen minutes later, our plan has been adopted as the New Way Forward. Pretty cool, especially when you're the one who put the plan together.

Okay, now back to the Colonel. A few days ago, two of us were taking her over to another base here in the IZ. Since she's new here, we took her around to show her some of the IZ sights. We went up to Assassin's Gate, then turned and headed back down, next to a big building that still shows the pounding it took in the 2003 war. The Colonel pulled out her camera and rolled down the window (wouldn't you?), and the guy driving slowed down to let her get a good picture. Suddenly, an Iraqi army guard came running up, waving his arms, shouting "No picture! No picture!" Another guy stood in front of the truck, blocking our way. We stopped and he seemed very upset that she'd taken pictures of this blasted building. As if it hadn't been photographed a gazillion times already. Suddenly, he was in the back seat beside me, gesturing "Go! Go!" towards the guard shack a dozen yards up the road. Me, I was doing all I could to not bust out laughing, so I was no help at all to the poor Colonel and the guy driving. Anyway, we pulled up to the guardhouse and the guards blocked our way again while somebody scurried inside to find the duty American. He came out, asked a few questions, made sure the Colonel had deleted the pictures of the building, made nice with the Iraqi guards, and let us go. We promised not to take any more pictures of bombed-out buildings (okay, we lied) and off we went.

At which point I collapsed in the back seat, laughing at the absurdity of the whole thing. "Robert, how are you going to explain to the General that he needs to come down to the guard house and pick up his brand-new Colonel?" The Colonel didn't help when she innocently told other staff that we were all "briefly detained" ... here, "detained" has a very specific meaning that is not at all what happened to us ... which set off another round of over-reaction on the part of all concerned, while I just sat in the back with my hand over my face trying to hold it in again.

There's a serious side to this, of course. It's that the Iraqi security forces are much more aggressive in their jobs and are not at all afraid to stop American vehicles if they think we're out of line. No Americans have been "detained" yet ... my Colonel's comments notwithstanding ... but there are an increasing number of discussions between Americans and Iraqi authorities, even if the authorities are just manning a checkpoint.

Changes in the IZ

In several posts recently, I've talked about changes that are taking place in Iraq, and especially here in Baghdad. They're being driven by the Security Agreement that was signed last fall, Iraqi eagerness to take control of their own country, and the improving security situation. There are a lot of things going on right here in the International Zone that are part of this.

For one thing, my command, the Gulf Region Division (GRD) of the US Army Corps of Engineers, is moving. We're leaving the IZ, where we've been for five years, and going out to Victory Base, which is the huge military operation out at the airport. Some offices have already left. Mine will be one of the last. Good thing, too, since the first couple of groups have had plenty of, shall we say, "learning experiences". Meaning their moves were all screwed up and I'm learning what NOT to do! It's already strange to walk through offices that were bustling with activity just a few days ago. Now there might just be a few boxes of assorted cables on the floor, plus an odd sheet of paper here or there, and an unplugged clock stuck at 11:42. In a few more weeks, all our operations will be gone and a crew will start dismantling and removing all our remaining facilities, the grounds will be cleaned up, and the T-walls will go away. By October it'll belong to the Iraqi government again.

The same thing is happening across the street at the Ibn Sina Hospital. This was originally built for Saddam Hussein's personal medical staff. During the worst of the conflict, it had one of the busiest emergency rooms in Baghdad, with helicopters constantly bringing new patients in and taking old ones out. Now the outpatient clinic has closed, replaced by another over at Camp Prosperity (also here in the IZ; it'll be here for a couple of years). The rest of the hospital will close in a couple of weeks and move to a new facility at Sather Air Force Base, which is also out at the airport.

There's a base literally across the street from the Embassy known as Union III. It was home to a lot of little shops, with rug dealers, jewelry, pirated DVDs, and the famous Oasis pizza shop. All of these have closed and their spaces are being renovated for offices. The stores are not gone, however: they are moving to the mausoleum at the other end of the base. Yes, a mausoleum. Hey, when you don't have a lot of choices, you use what you've got! Some of the stores are already open in their new location while others are still moving. Meanwhile, new housing units and other facilities are coming into the base and it is getting extremely busy. Union III will be one of the last bases to close down as we pull out of Iraq.

So that's a glimpse of what's going on here. We're drawing down, and the organizations that will remain for a while are moving to one of the few large bases. Many of these organizations will go away within the next year. And if you think we're dragging our feet, think again: the pace is actually accelerating. My command was planning on making some significant changes in the March timeframe, but that's just been pushed up to October. And that seems to be the way everything is going.

Ask Me About My Grandson!

I have been negligent, dear reader. I have not posted any pictures of my grandson in a long time. Since Rick and Julie just sent us some, I think it's about time to share the wealth. So here are some photos of the little guy from last weekend.

Wading in the river ... it don't get no better!

Well, maybe it does!

Jacks and Dad.

Jacks and Mom

Plumb tuckered out. 'Night, all!

More Randomness

I got a haircut the other day. Iraqi barbers are just like American ones: they yabber away among themselves the whole time they're snipping away at your hair. And they make sure that some of your curly locks land on top of your nose and tickle the hell out of it until you can sneak a hand out from under the sheet. Our barbers have two real barber's chairs and one that looks remarkably like the chairs that are in all of our offices, complete with those little wheels. Iraqi barbers have one little trick that I've never run across anywhere else: the string. Yes, it's a string. They wind it up around their fingers and use it to pluck extraneous hairs out of your eyebrows and ears and anywhere else those extraneous hairs pop up. Don't ask me how they do it. I always have my eyes scrunched shut and have never actually watched. Suffice to say, it feels weird but it's effective.

Coming back from the DFAC tonight, walking along the street, we came across a street urchin selling DVD's at two for $5. We all bought two or four each, including me. Yes, they're black market, but as a wise sage that I worked with in Sarajevo once said, "a black market is better than no market at all". And nobody is a better salesman than a cute little kid with a woebegone expression.

I've been battling bureaucratic stupidity ever since I got here. I had a security clearance when I worked at the Embassy. When I came to work in DoD, we all thought my clearance would transfer right over. We thought wrong. The State Department and DoD don't share a common security database, and evidently it is impossible for some DoD clerk to sit down and type the same information from one database into another - this despite the fact that there's a law on the books requiring them to be able to do that. So we've had to elevate this to some ridiculously high level in Washington where it has languished for three months now. My Army clerk told me that it was quicker just to do a brand-new security investigation, even though one was just completed on me in January! Not only that, the new investigation would be done by the very same people who did the first one! I ask you, does this make sense? (You: "NOOOOOOO!!") So, faced with lack of movement at some high level in DoD, I submitted the paperwork to start another security investigation. Last week I was told that they couldn't process the forms because my fingerprints were taken on an SF86 card when they should have been done on an SF87. We're beyond the realm of the ridiculous now, into the world of Rod Serling's Twilight Zone: the only difference between the two forms is a slight re-arrangement of data boxes. Your tax dollars at work.

More bureaucratic bumbling: My command is going to move in a few weeks from the International Zone to our new digs out at Victory Base (which is out at the airport). For some reason, this means that we have to have a new zip code. So even though we're only going five miles or so down the road, and all our mail comes in and out of Victory Base now, just like it will then, we have to have a new zip code. And our postal operation closed down today to start the move. When did they finally tell us what our new zip code will be? Today. Really thoughtful and considerate support for those of us who have magazine subscriptions, huh? The Navy sends ships all over the world, all the time, has for years, and doesn't need zip code changes - why does the Army need a change just to go five miles down the road? Boggles the mind.

One good-news story: our DFAC has suddenly had plenty of peanut butter Clif bars. I've been stocking up - ya never know how long the supply will last!

Some of our people put out bread crumbs and other goodies for the birds. We have tons of little brown sparrows around here, along with those dark gray rats-with-wings (we have rats-without-wings, too). Anyway, there was a mother sparrow and her little one, and the mom was teaching junior about foraging. The little one would peck on the ground a few times and then look up at mom and open its beak wide, then mom would give it a treat, and junior would wiggle all over with excitement. Cutest thing I've seen in ages.

Sen. Kerry's Remarks on Terry Barnich and Maged Hussein

This item was sent as a comment to my previous post. However, I thought it worth a post of its own.

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Hi Skip. I thought you might like to know that after several weeks of working with the Senate Foreign Relations staff, Chairman John Kerry has placed a remembrance into the Congressional Record regarding Maged Hussein and Terry Barnich, your two friends who were killed on Memorial Day 2009 when their vehicle was destroyed by a roadside bomb outside of Fallujah, Iraq.

Kerry addressed the memorial statement to President Obama during the July 7, 2009 Senate meeting in Washington, DC.

I am sure that Maged’s and Terry's many colleagues and friends, both at Embassy Baghdad and around the world, are grateful for this honourable tribute.

I have copied a summary of the CR page below.

[Congressional Record: July 7, 2009 (Senate)][Page S7189]
From the Congressional Record Online via GPO Access [wais.access.gpo.gov]
[DOCID:cr07jy09-186]

REMEMBERING TERRY BARNICH AND MAGED HUSSEIN

Mr. KERRY. Mr. President, I would like to say a few words about two brave Americans who were tragically killed in Iraq earlier this year. On May 25, 2009, Terrance Barnich of Illinois and Maged Hussein of Florida died when an improvised explosive device detonated near a construction site outside of Fallujah.

Terry Barnich was the deputy director of the Iraq Transition Assistance Office in Baghdad. He had signed on for multiple tours in Iraq and was the senior American expert responsible for expanding the generation of electricity across Iraq. Dr. Maged Hussein was the senior adviser for water resources in the Iraq Transition Assistance Office and a civilian member of the Army Corps of Engineers. He, too, volunteered for multiple tours in Iraq.

These two men represent the very best America has to offer. Both gave up the comforts of home to live in trailers in Baghdad in an effort to help provide a better future for Iraq. Countless thousands of Iraqi civilians have access to electricity and potable water as a result of Terry's and Maged's efforts. Along with the personal tragedy, their loss represents a serious setback for American reconstruction efforts in Iraq. We mourn their passing and offer our deepest condolences to their families.

Random Thoughts

It's a scorcher today. We're getting into the full-blown heat of summer, with highs around 115 and lows in the upper 90's. Its the kind of heat that makes your metal eyeglass frames burn when they touch your cheek. Sunglasses are mandatory, or else you'll be blinded by the transition from indoors to out. Those of us who are office slugs almost never go out. I've shifted my jogging from tootling around the compound to pounding the treadmill in the air-conditioned gym. When its 100 degrees at 9 pm, I'm not going to jog outside!

Walking over to the DFAC in the morning, I usually pass by a line of Iraqis waiting to go through security. I always say "sabah al khair" ("good morning") or "sala'amu aleikum" (peace be with you). You should see their faces light up! I guess they're used to Americans passing them by, or ignoring them, or something, but give them a greeting in Arabic and they're surprised and delighted. It's always good to start the day out with a smile.

The Washington Post has an excellent article today on life in Baghdad. It's a very well researched, composed, and written look at the competing tensions in Iraq. The balance between security and freedoms, coupled with nostalgia for a cosmopolitan Baghdad that hasn't existed for decades, is a delicate one here. The writer, Anthony Shadid, won a Pulitzer Prize in 2004 for his coverage of the Iraq conflict.

We lost four Marines in Afghanistan today. Ever since my two friends were killed in Fallujah, I feel these losses personally.

I was able to shed two big jobs today. They were time sumps that pulled me away from a couple of really important tasks. Now I should be back down to 12-hour days.

Ever hear of Clif bars? They're one of those energy bars and are very popular over here. One of our DFACs has cornered the market on the Black Cherry Almond versions. Every night, they have boxes of the things out, giving them away. Unfortunately, they taste like mud pies. However, you gotta pay attention, because every now and then the DFAC will put out something really good, like the Crunchy Peanut Butter ones, without telling anybody. I can eat a bunch of those. But not tonight. Tonight they had the mud pies. Sigh.

In High Gear

The pace at work has hit high subsonic speeds over the past couple of weeks. We were anticipating this might happen and it has. Basically, the Corps of Engineers does lots of construction and other projects all over the country. We have several organizations that we work closely with, primarily the State Department and a few military commands. Two of these primary customers suddenly want to throw a lot of projects our way. So we're scrambling, trying to take care of both of them, make sure they get what they need, balance out the priorities, and get this huge logjam of work through the system and out the door. Your intrepid reporter is playing a role in that, mostly flailing around noisily without much effect.

What's funny is that the two customers are so different. One of them just had a change in leadership. The previous person in charge was a bit, shall we say, "flighty". It was, "We're going to do this." A day later, "who told you that? We're doing something else!" Another day, "No, it's always been this one plan". Their direction kept changing faster than a pinball. Very difficult to work with. However, that individual is now gone and the new leadership is 180 degrees different. She's a very decisive woman who clearly understands what she intends to do. We had several projects that were sitting on the shelf waiting for some kind of decision from the previous leadership - we dusted them off, presented them to her, and she made up her mind right there that we'd do them. Cool! So we're off and running on some very worthwhile programs. They'll help Iraqi government officials do their jobs better. Your tax dollars will be well spent.

The other customer? Quite different. It almost seems as if the individual in charge is trying to come up with as many roadblocks as possible. I don't understand it - if your job is to get as many good projects completed as possible, I would think that you'd be doing everything in your power to make it happen. In fact, it's the opposite. We know how to do the projects on their list - we've done a gazillion of them already, and none of their proposals are difficult. But we need to get them soon, because after a certain date, the money goes away. Meanwhile, the individual in charge is coming up with one new monkey wrench after another. It's as if they know they're not going to succeed, so they're trying to come up with an excuse - "hey, we tried, but the Corps just couldn't do it!" It's sad to see, because the proposed projects would do a lot to improve essential government services - things like delivering electricity and water, enhancing security in some key areas, that sort of thing. I just don't see very many of them getting done under the current leadership.

Oh, well, that's just me grousing. Been a long day. On the positive side, we had some kick-butt burgers last night. Today was a beautiful day, nice and clear, with no orange dust blowing in through my air conditioner. And right now it's 11 pm and still 100 degrees outside.

Another Orange Day

So what is this? We've had orange days for five days in a row! I woke up this morning and didn't even have to open the blinds - I could see the orange light coming in around the edges. This is getting old. Every day, I take a shower, get all cleaned up, head out the door to work, and before I get there, I need a shower again. And my commute is all of 1 minute 33 seconds, hooch to desk, by actual measurement.

So here are a few pictures from wandering around the IZ today.

Visibility earlier today was maybe an eighth of a mile. Nasty dust!

This arch is on one of our FOBs (Forward Operating Bases) here in the IZ.

Let's go shopping!

Postcards? You want postcards? Maybe some pirated DVDs? Posters of Britney Spears? Lots of quality stuff here!

"We'll Surprise you With our Prices." I dunno, makes me nervous ...

Last night I was channel surfing, hoping to find the Daytona race, but it didn't come on until 3 am our time (rats). Discovered that you can get "Ugly Betty" dubbed into Arabic on the Al Arabiya network. Somehow that just seems wrong. Not as wrong, though, as when Janis and I found "Hogan's Heroes" dubbed into German on the tube in Chiemsee.

Yesterday was July 4th. Fortunately, the insurgents didn't celebrate it with any fireworks. Actually, it was a work day for us. Our holiday is today, July 5th. Don't ask me why. We have the full day off, which is why we were out gallivanting around the IZ and taking pictures of all the dust. We ate lunch at the DFAC at FOB Union III and, wonder of wonders, their salad bar had fresh spinach! So I had myself a big plate of it. Our DFAC specializes in soggy soyburgers, so fresh spinach was a big treat. Tonight, my command is having an all-American cookout, with burgers and dogs. Somehow, eating a soyburger seasoned with orange dust just doesn't appeal to me. Think I'll eat at our Dirtbag DFAC instead.

Burger Night

On Thursdays, our little gang goes out for burgers. There's a DFAC here in the IZ (I won't say which one - it's a secret!) that makes the best burgers this side of New York. Truly. Now, all the DFACs here make mass-produced burgers as part of their regular fare. Some do a pretty good job. But there's one that goes the extra step. If you ask, they'll go to the cooler and pull out the good stuff: 100% beef, perfectly seasoned, shaped by hand, and they'll grill it to your specifications. Want some American cheese on that? Sure. A double burger? No problem. The cook is a friendly guy with an unpronounceable name who knows how to cook 'em right. Getting fresh burgers cooked to order takes an extra bit of time, so we stand there by the window, sniffing the grill like kids sniff glue. Finally they're done and we scurry off to the table. Can't let 'em get cold - you have to eat 'em while they're still hot. Ohmigawd, it's epicurean bliss!

Not only do they do fabulous burgers, but their chili is pretty fabulous, too. It's nothing fancy, just good ol' spicy chili done right. One of our gang tried their steak-on-a-stick tonight and reported that it was as good as the burgers and chili. I didn't bother, my burger and my small bowl of chili was all I needed. Well, I needed a beer, too, but that ain't gonna happen anytime soon.

I mentioned "our little gang". We have a group of about eight that go to meals and sneak off to other FOBs together. It's a tight group, mostly officers, from a young Air Force captain to a crusty Navy Commander, with a few of us civilians mixed in, of which half are retired military. In the Navy, we called a group of officers like this the wardroom. It's pretty cool to be part of a real wardroom again. There's a comaraderie of shared experiences, teamwork, helping each other with the load, and watching each other's backs. When a good wardroom comes along, it's because everybody is part of the same team, like it or not, and going through a challenging experience together.

We have a good batch of people. They're smart. Actually, they're scary smart. One is an Air Force astronaut engineer, another has a PhD in aeronautical engineering, and a third has a PhD in geology. One has negotiated billion-dollar shipbuilding contracts. One civilian, who looked like an innocent in over his head, actually has one of the sharpest minds in the Corps and a will of steel when he chooses to exercise it. Any one of these people could easily have an out-of-control ego, but none do. Not that the rest of us would let them get away with it, even if they did.

Groups like this are not uncommon over here. I think that's one reason why so many civilians keep coming back, or never leaving - the experience of being a part of a tight group that's working on something vital and important. There's nothing like it.

But before you get the wrong idea: when my tour is up next April, I am not extending! I've got a wife and two little dogs waiting for me at home. So while I like the situation I've got here, the one at home is more important.

Hunkered Down

It's been a quiet day in Lake Woebegone, my home town ... ooops, sorry, Garrison, didn't mean to steal your line. But it's been a quiet day in Baghdad, at least. Today was one of our Big Milestones, the day when all American soldiers are supposed to be withdrawn from the cities. And they are, pretty much, except for a big bunch here in the IZ and a few at scattered small bases around the city. We've been hunkered down for the past couple of days. All movements outside the wire (meaning outside of bases or the IZ) have been prohibited. My command has restricted our movements even around the IZ. This is a day that's very important to Iraqis, the day that they regain control over us foreign invaders, and we didn't want to upset any schwarma karts.

So we stayed inside our bases and waited to see what would happen. Would there be riots in the streets? Rockets and mortars raining down on our heads? Swarms of Al Qaeda goons crawling over our T-walls? And the answer was: No. None of that. I heard some sirens earlier today, but it turned out to be Prime Minister Maliki's security detail (seemingly half the Humvees in the Iraqi armed forces) racing at high speed to or from some event. That was pretty much it. It was so quiet, in fact, that around mid-afternoon, our restriction to the base was lifted. We celebrated by walking down to FOB Phoenix for dinner. Hey, it's gyros night, and they make good gyros. Can't miss that.

Not that we didn't have a reason to be nervous. As I've noted in earlier posts, and as most of the serious news outlets have commented on, there has been an uptick in attacks over the last week. Most of the violence prior to this was against other Iraqis. This past week, they've shifted to attacking American forces out on patrol. One day last week, there were multiple IED attacks, a few mortar attacks, and some rifle and hand grenade attacks, all but one against our forces. No deaths that day, some minor injuries. Oh, and they kidnapped a 10-year-old girl. Now what does that tell you about these goons? That they're responsible, upstanding citizens with their nation's best interest at heart?

It seems that the only real trouble in Iraq today was a car bomb up in Kirkuk that killed about 25 people. None in Baghdad, at least none that I'm aware of yet. (Pay attention to Kirkuk: it's one of the potential flash points in this country, sitting on top of a huge pot of oil, and a focus of Kurd and Arab disagreement). So, in all, it looks like a successful day. A day in which nothing much happened.

Sometimes that's about all you can hope for.

Coming to a Milestone

Another milestone is coming up in a few days. June 30th is the date that US troops are no longer based in the cities. Beyond that date, our troops won't be in the lead, anywhere in Iraq, any more. Iraqi troops are to be in charge of all operations, with Americans as backup or as trainers if they're there at all.

There are already a lot of other changes ongoing. Back in October, I wrote an entry about going with our Blackwater security detail out to one of our project sites. Our convoy owned the road. Traffic was stopped for us, and if the road was blocked, we simply went around it, going the wrong way around a traffic circle or down sidewalks if needed. There was a logic to it: the more you're moving, especially in unexpected ways, the harder you are to hit. Now, however, we move with the traffic. We merge with the flow, and when the flow stops, we stop. That gets a bit uncomfortable sometimes, but so far there have been no troubles, at least none that I've experienced or even heard of second-hand.

I travel under the protection of a private security company (not Blackwater, or Xe, or whatever they're called today). But the same rules apply to US military vehicles, too. Actually, the Iraqi forces seem to hold military convoys to a stricter standard. So they've taken to moving largely at night, when there's little or no traffic, and people don't see them as easily. Trust me, it's hard to hide an MRAP, but night helps out a lot.

The Prime Minister, Nouri al-Maliki, is really talking this up. He's calling it a "victory" and that it's a "repulsion of foreign oppressors". Inflammatory words to some, but we don't worry about it. He's a politician and needs to be seen as standing up to us. We need some strong politicians in charge of Iraq if we're ever going to get out of here.

There are some things we are concerned about, though. Iraqi citizens, by and large, don't fully trust their own police and security forces yet. Some of the forces are pretty good, and some aren't. But they'll be in charge come Tuesday.

Meanwhile, the insurgents are launching more attacks. We expected this. They used motorcycles packed with explosives, nails, and ball bearings to hit two market areas today, killing at least 20. There have been a number of high-profile bombings over the last week. They've stepped up their attacks on US patrols and convoys, too. And they've been launching more rockets into the International Zone, mostly with minimal or no effect. The troublemakers are remnants of Al Qaeda, various Sunni groups targeting Shiites, and various Shiite groups hitting back at Sunnis. So although there is an uptick in violence, it is nowhere near the level of a year and a half ago.

Back in the last days of December, we were all nervous about the transition that was to come on New Year's Day, when the Security Agreement took effect. We thought things might go to hell in a handbasket. They didn't. Now we're coming up on another milestone and are nervous about what it might entail. Let's hope that the result is similar to January's.

Wednesday Wanderings

I've had a good few days since my last post. I finished up a project that's been in the works for two months. It was a decision brief on two alternatives for a construction project. Took me a while to figure out what I was talking about, then another while to really understand the two alternatives. Anyway, it's done and gone to our high mucky-mucks so they can make the decision I'm telling them to.

Today I finished up a training course. It was a computer-based program about overseeing contracts. It was about as exciting as you're thinking it was. What is it about these courses done on computer that is just so boring? I'd much rather have a hard-copy text in front of me and a bright yellow highlighter. That's the way God intended courses should be taught.

Tonight I got to spend some time painting. Normally I don't let people see a work in progress, but tonight I'll make an exception. Here's my "hooch studio" with a painting on my "easel".

My easel, in this case, is also my chest of drawers for my clothes. My palette is a white plastic plate that I stole a bunch of from the DFAC. My studio is the walkway between my desk and the bathroom. And my hooch smells like linseed oil and really stinky turpentine right now. Ah, eau de studieu!

So while I've been busy in my own little world, lotsa stuff has been happening all over the world. The Iranians are having a major uprising. Looks to me like the ayatollah's really blew it. They rigged it in the same heavy-handed, non-sophisticated manner that the Soviets rigged theirs for so many years. It was so blatantly obvious, yet they insist that everything was perfectly normal, even though there were more votes in some districts than there were registered voters. So the ayatollahs have shown their true colors to their people at last. I don't know if they'll stay in power or not ... the world is full of repressive regimes that keep their hold on power for years. Cuba, for example. But sooner or later they all fail. Strong men don't live forever, and eventually the population will throw them out. Let's just hope it's sooner.

Baghdad seems to be getting edgier as we count down the days to June 30th. That's when all US troops are supposed to have pulled their bases out of the cities. Everybody, Iraqis included, seem to think that our troops will be out of the cities, period. Not true and it never has been. The agreement is that our bases will be outside the cities. Our troops will still make patrols inside the city limits, alongside their Iraqi counterparts. As one said, "nothing will change except our commute to work will get longer". But you can expect to hear a lot of noise in early July about how we're violating the agreement because our troops will still be seen in the cities. The noisemakers will be either ignorant of the agreement or willfully misrepresenting it. You choose. We're hearing that Maliki is going to declare a national holiday on June 30th. I can't begrudge him that, really. He's a politician and has to make the most of whatever good news he can. Meanwhile, the insurgents are making the most of it, too, with bombings all over Baghdad. We'll see how long that streak continues. Actually, when you look at the figures, the violence is really not that bad. The troublemakers are just making a few high-profile hits these days, rather than lots of smaller ones that don't make the evening news. Yes, they're waging their war in the international press as much as they are in the streets.

And that's the news for now. Time to hit the rack, breathe turpentine fumes, and dream of more pleasant things.

Orange Day

A couple of days ago we had a dust storm blow in.  "Storm" isn't really the right word, since there weren't any high winds or rain.  Rather, we had this thick fog of orange dust that settled in.  It was like a light touch of snow, except it was orange, and it was dust, and it got everywhere.  It even came into my little hooch through the air conditioner and coated the whole room with a fine powder.  So after work, I had a major clean-up to do in my room.  

This is the walkway by my hooch.  No, I didn't hit the "sepia" button in Photoshop, this is really the way an "orange day" looks.

That's pavement under that dust coating.

Here's a sidewalk the morning of the dust storm ...

And here's the same sidewalk about two days later, under clear skies, after it's been washed and swept.

Who Deploys to Iraq?

One of my co-workers, Lisa, has a daughter who's into film-making.  This young lady made a short documentary film that recently played at the DeadCENTER Film Festival.  The film was about Lisa, why she came to work with the Corps of Engineers in Iraq, and the effect it had on her and her family.  This documentary was filmed just as Lisa left on her third deployment to Mosul, a city in northern Iraq that is still pretty turbulent.  

And by the way, Lisa is now on her fourth deployment.