24 Jan: Paris

[brrrr, standing on a bridge across the Seine]


The 0400 wake-up call from the front desk of the Four Seasons Amman comes too early, but sets us in motion for our flight to Paris where I have been invited for an interview with a French humanitarian aid agency, ACTED (The Agency for Coordination of Technical Development) with a large program in Afghanistan. Paris is cold, but this somehow elevates the romance as we wrap ourselves in wool coats and scarves, huddle close together, and dine on fondue and soufflés. We visit the Louvre, but prefer the Musee du Orsay with its spectacular collection of Impressionist masters. We saw a show at the famed Moulin Rouge. While the quality is nowhere near something you’ll find in Las Vegas or Broadway, it is still fun and worth doing. (Note: do not take photos during the show, oops).

[The dining was exquisite, soufflés, fondues, hand-made chocolate (I finally taught Chris that it is NEVER too cold for ice cream), cheese, and of course wine]

And the reason for us being in Paris in the first place, my interview

22-23 Jan: Amman and Petra, Jordan

[Bedouin tea in the early morning light in Petra]

I wasn’t going to depart Jordan for good without visiting the magnificent Petra, so we spent two days in the Movenpick for a 10-hour hike around this amazing place. January turned out to be the ideal time for a visit, it was empty and cool, allowing the musky atmosphere of the ancient waterways to permeate the nostrils as young men on camel back charged by yelling “you want camel? You want camel?”

Flying down the interstate (after another of our famous “short cuts”) we dined with good friends from the US and South African Embassies, two colleagues of my then future employer: ACTED, as well as two lovely Iraqis currently living in Jordan as refugees. Looking around the table I am amazed at who and what I have come to see and become in the short span of one year.

21 Jan: Leaving Baghad

[right: The residents of the D1 quad, with Carol and Loki]

Following our sad departure from house D1/3 in the USAID compound, IZ, Baghdad – amidst the early birds for the Viking raid of any and all useful goods we may leave behind in the house, we board the armored Mercedez G-Wagon for the final time as friends and colleagues surround the vehicle in the customary “send-off”. Travel out of the IZ was exhilarating as we sat aboard an Australian piloted Puma helicopter (in case you missed my post on that, please see “Riding High Aussie Style” below).

The final sendoff by friends and colleagues. Hugs and well-wishes.

Riding High, Aussie Style!

Baghdad International Airport

A bittersweet day for us indeed. As we depart Baghdad after a year,we have forged many friendships we are sure will last a lifetime. We have seen and experienced things that we can sometimes not explain. We have been more happy than ever, and at the same time felt pain and suffering with our Iraqi colleagues deeper than anything I have ever witnessed. And here we are, one year later...headed out of Baghdad for the last time (for now). Our keys are turned in, our house has been raided in the customary "viking raid" for any and all useful goods/wares we have acquired and do not want to lug with us. Our packages have been mailed, Travel Authorizations cut, goodbyes have been said by the final "motorpool" call, my flack jacket gingerly awaits a new arrival in the storage container, and we are heading out. As is customary in Baghdad, nothing is customary, and sure enough we were in for just one final thrill before we're wheels up tomorrow....this little antic is something I put together when we first arrived at the airport this afternoon...

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So one thing's for sure...the next time I head to a war zone, I'm going with the Aussies! We were waiting at the landing zone in the IZ (LZ Washington, the one you always see on CNN) for a US military helo out to the Baghdad International Airport. As usual, our show time is an hour before the scheduled flight. So we check in and start what we do a lot around here: wait. Short while later a sergeant comes out of the office and yells "anyone going to BIAP?", to which we eagerly respond "sure, we are", he says "follow me". We do the customary grab and stick of Velcro sides on a flack vest while trying to simultaneously secure a helmet and stuff ear plugs in, and we head to the flight deck. Sitting on the tarmac among about six black hawks (our regular means of transportation) are two funky looking (almost cute) helicopters, I later learn are Pumas.

An Aussie with a headset directs us to the bird in front, just in time to watch the gunner move two cases of Guinness out of the doorway for us to climb onto. He grabs our bags and gives us a hand up and actually welcomes us on board. What followed was the most fun 20 minutes of my entire year in Baghdad! These guys flew us over Baghdad at what cannot have been more than 100 feet off the deck. I know it was close because I couldn't even use the small zoom on my point and shoot when taking video! For twenty minutes these guys were flying in a formation that would make most people (at least my dad) lose his lunch! Absolutely awesome, up and down, left and right, over the fields, and through the woods, and then on to BIAP. After an unusually long taxi at BIAP, we came to a halt, the gunner undid our bags, helped us down, then unloaded the bags and insisted on carrying the one bag all the way to the edge, only to be met by three guys with a vehicle there to "drive our bags over to the check in". I kept thinking "wonder if they'll mind that we're not Australian". What a way to run a war! Guinness and customer service with a smile. Hope the crew is enjoying a cold one as we speak. Cheers mates!

PS: We're flying to Amman tomorrow, then off to Petra, Paris....etc,etc. Will keep you posted.