Tuesday, February 13, 2007

9-12 Feb: Yosemite, California


In an attempt to get everyone away from chores and the mundane, we reserved a cabin in Yosemite for the whole family to celebrate Chris's mom and dad's 60th birthdays. The extended family joined in, and in the end we were 14 in total. The cabin was wonderful. The weather was wet, but we are elated to be together. The fire roared, the food was hearty, the companionship necessary. Finally on Sunday it snowed, the little ones were ecstatic.




Friday, February 09, 2007

8 Feb: Coming home

Visalia, California - There is something very surreal about unsuspectingly crawling up a familiar driveway in the middle of the night. A homecoming. It has been over a year. Things look the same, they smell the same. We ring the doorbell - the elated family – somehow I feel like I am watching this on a movie screen, from afar, perhaps from the neighbor’s yard. Then it sucks you in, deep into the belly of the house, and it snaps you back in a heartbeat. The room is as it always is (save for the floor under repair), but the bathroom is new. The rest is eerily similar. It is comforting. The family looks good, I shower, we go out to dinner. I drift in and out of reality and remembrance.

3-8 Feb: Park City, Utah

Park City is fun. The snow is a little scarce, but the weather is great. We have a nice apartment. I shopped at Wild Oats with tears in my eyes as I ogled over the abundance of wonderfully fresh produce I missed so dearly in Baghdad. In an attempt to maximize our “experience on the mountain” we signed up for a few lessons with what has to be Australia’s own “carrot top”. Great guy, and we got to jump the lift line. We pretend to have an interest in timeshare and get free lift tickets from one of the newly constructed über-resorts. At night we cook, drink wine, catch up, talk about Baghdad and what the future hold. We also debate the Vietnam and Iraq wars with three grey beards in the hot tub who bring us plastic cups for our wine.

[Main Street. Pricey, but nice]

Saturday, February 03, 2007

1-3 Feb: Los Angeles

A brief stop in Los Angeles in route to Park City for a five day snowboarding break awards us just enough time to satisfy our ravenous desire for Mexican food, shared aptly with 25 of our friends in our favorite, La Cabana, with pitchers of Margaritas and happy conversation flowing; for me to appear on an NPR affiliate radio station; visit our beloved Nelson; and to drop off our excess baggage at the Bratcher B&B.

[Nelson, as handsome as ever]

Listen to "Eating in a war zone", my interview with Evan Kleiman on KCRW.

With Evan and fabulous produces, Jennifer, at "Angeli Caffé", Evan's restaurant on Melrose Blvd.

Thursday, February 01, 2007

27 Jan-1 Feb: New York, New Haven, Boston

27 Jan: Charles de Gaulle airport submits us to the first security screening we both believe was actually worthwhile. Quick and efficient, the security procedure leaves us both confident. We are on board an Air France (aptly known as Air Chance for their superior tendency to misplace luggage) flight to JFK. We are running late. At JFK we are offered the upgraded, much larger version of the short-wheel base mini van we reserved to move all of our stuff at the low-low price of $150. We decline. They are out of the short base, we get the upgrade for free.


[Our first forum at FPC New Haven, the next four weeks will prove to be somewhat like a "book tour" as we take our "Chris & Susan does Baghdad" story on the road]

28-1 Jan: New Haven is pleasant, fortunate for us we did not come a week earlier when temperatures hovered around 1 degree Farenheit. We visit with friends from Yale, the rugby team, and do our first forum at the First Presbyterian church the morning after our arrival. We try to extract ourselves from the basement of our good friends Ken and Judy, and consolidate our belongings in our heavily overburdened storage in Boston. The minivan turns out to be a blessing as we pile our earthlies in the back and shuttle then up to Boston for the big prioritization operation. Salvation Army makes out like a bandit. We are horrified at the consumerism we had forgotten about for a year as we pass box after box after box of oversized collection of useless stuff that someone somewhere somehow convinced the public that they must have.

[Consolidating]

Saturday, January 27, 2007

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

Wednesday, January 24, 2007

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.

Monday, January 22, 2007

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.

Sunday, January 21, 2007

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...

***************************

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.

Wednesday, December 13, 2006

Back in South Africa

Chris and I touched down at the Oliver Thambo International Airport in Johannesburg last night after spending one night with friends in Dubai. Must say, not impressed with Dubai at all, it's like Vegas but even more soul-less. And the shopping, I found it to be extremely expensive, so don't know what the big deal is.

Pretoria is lovely, the weather is perfect and we actually managed to miss the Christmas crowd streaming in from all corners of the world. I imagine the airport will be a nightmare this upcoming weekend. We plan on spending the week here in Pretoria seeing friends and family, we have a Christmas party each with the two sides of the family tonight and tomorrow night, and on Saturday we'll load up my dad's double cab and head off on an adventure through some of the beautiful parks and mountains of the Free State, KwaZulu Natal and Lesotho.

I wish you all a wonderful holiday season, and if you are taking some time off, hope you will enjoy the time spent with loved ones.

Saturday, December 09, 2006

Xmas party December 2006

At a Christmas party of a colleague here on the compound.

Rome


At the Colliseum during our brief two-day visit to Rome enroute to Tuscany.

Morocco

A favorite shot of mine, here we are at the Fes dye pits where all leather goods are hand-dyed.

Montalcino...




...home of the Brunello

Update

It has been almost a month since I last wrote, and the requests for updates have started picking up. Trust me, it is not for a lack of news or desire that I have not put my thoughts to paper, but rather more the weight of the realities squeezing us from every angle. With the emergence of study groups, high-profile resignations and political tug-of-wars in Washington, I ache for my Iraqi friends who have now turned to say it bluntly, petrified of the situation in Baghdad.

As the daily sectarian killings continue to plague the neighborhoods, we bid yet another colleague goodbye, weekly it seems. I am sad at losing my friends, but glad that they are of the fortunate few with the means and an option to get their families out. At a dinner with a colleague, his wife, and their five and two year olds, I listen to their optimism about moving to Dubai. "We have lost everything, as long as we have each other, we will be okay" says the mechanical engineer wife of my colleague.

As surreal as it seems, in the interest of an actual "update" I will give a brief overview of what we have been up to for the past month. I mentioned we had a week's break in Tuscany where we stayed at a 13th Century Agriturismo Estate called Spannochia. The estate is part of the Spannochia Foundation and was recently awarded as a "Green List" by Conde Nest Traveler. For our family and close friends, we have already indicated a possible return to Spannochia for a reunion in the near future.

Today we start the four day trek out of Baghdad to get to South Africa to spend Christmas with my family, including my now very ailing grandparents. We fly via Amman (as usual), and then to Dubai where we will spend the night with my good friends from high school who have lived in Dubai for about five years. On Tuesday we are off to Pretoria for a couple weeks of road tripping through Southern Africa with my dad's new double cab (complete with off-road trailer), eventually ending up at his house on a game farm for Christmas with my sister and her new fiancee, and his parents.

Our xmas cards and gift boxes are in the mail, you should all receive them shortly. Thank you also to all who sent us cards, good wishes and lovely care packages. We appreciate them all tremendously. And if you did send something that we did not receive before we leave (including toys for the Toys for Tots campaign) do not worry, they will be kept for our return.

I will leave you with a few recent photographs...

Tuesday, November 14, 2006

Baghdad Marathon


(Photo: Our "kiss-off" instead of a "handoff" raised many "aaauuuw's" from the supporters of the Baghdad Marathon)


On Saturday November 11th, a bunch of us participated in the Baghdad Marathon. While three of our much, much braver colleagues ran the entire 26.2 mi through the International Zone (accomplished through two laps around a 13mi course), the rest of us opted to sign up for the 5-person teams. As part of a relay team each member had to complete one 5.2 lap for a total of 5 laps.

(Photo -Coming in for the finish)
Certainly one of the most interesting courses one could ever hope to run. The highlights of the day started with the only pre-race safety briefing I ever heard to include "incoming fire" and "kidnapping risk" - now I don't know, perhaps runners in Colombia get the same briefing, but it was a first for us. Comments to the instructions to "duck" included "or run faster".


The first runner departed at 0500 from the back of Saddam's palace, next to the pool. As each runner completes the course he/she hands off at the same location. Mile one was run flanking the T-walls where a row of big-rig supply trucks were lined up to be scanned, searched and scrutinized before gaining access to the highly guarded Embassy compound. Not quite used to dodging rigs on runs either, but hey - it's not the half of it. At the end of the long stretch of T-wall, marathoners went underneath, relayers went to the right of the 14th of July bridge, in plane site of the Tigris river, and mind you, the Red Zone (hence the "indirect fire" briefing I imagine). Continuing on straight to the traffic circle with the statue of the four soldiers (the same statue that was infamously hit by a certain South African colleague in a 300K armored vehicle, winning him a one-way ticket home). From there the route veered slightly left toward the convention center, right at the "tomb of the unknown soldier" (the marathoners got to run under Saddam's swords but not the relayers) past the Combat Support Hospital (CASH), and back around the embassy.


All along the route were KBR employees for whom the distinction between "marathoner" and "relayer" apparently posed just too much information, hence rendering most of the relayers to run far longer than the planned 5.2 mi. In addition to KBR folks were the ever-present Peruvian guards, automatic rifle in hand, ready with the standard greeting "buenos dias miiiieeeeeeees...."

Apart from our starter not coordinating with the second fellow (resulting in the second guy waiting around for about 20 mins before simply jumping into the next group of people that ran past at the change over), our team did fine - and most importantly, we all had a great time. A computer crash at the embassy caused the loss of most of the race times, so I regress that I cannot report back on our marvelous performance.

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

America (and me) votes 2006!


Fine, so it’s a little weird to get up at 5am to watch anything on TV, except if it’s to watch the Springboks maul the All Blacks – or as the case may be this morning, Nancy Pelosi sharpening her claws for the next two years as Speaker of the House.

It’s true friends, it’s true. We woke before dawn, made some strong coffee, flipped some pancakes and glued ourselves to CNN as the polls slowly started closing on the west coast. Together with some other active politicos we watched Allen and Webb battle it out in Virginia, and cringed together as Lieberman permanently tattooed “#1 Republican” on his forehead.

I thought I would share this photograph with y’all. And let me tell you, it was a big deal. When the absentee ballots came in October Chris nonchalantly said “oh, we have to remember to vote tonight”, I nearly fell over! I was like “no, noooo, no, you don’t understand, I have to prepare, I have to be ready”. So I mentally prepared for a few days, and finally cast my first vote ever at my kitchen counter in Baghdad, listening to the Dixie Chicks (note: I was 5 months too young to vote for Nelson Mandela, and have lived as an *alien* ever since).

For those of you who know me and have attended my political fundraising parties, you will understand what a big deal this is for me…so we continue to watch…at the office, on CNN.com and a myriad of political blogs to follow the close races in MT, VA and TN….it’s close…oh so close….

Sunday, November 05, 2006

Living through a death sentence

For once the ice-cold interior of the Hamurabi office building is a welcome refuge from the outside. I dashed back to my house; adrenalin runs high; heart beats quickly as I navigate through the fortified hard houses that long-term staff occupies on the compound. Instead of the direct route I normally take home I find myself snaking as much as possible, at times even entering other quads, adding precious concrete barriers between myself and the exterior walls.

The sounds are unmistakable, "rrrrrrratatatatatatatatatata" sounds the AK47, "rat-duht-duht-duht-duht" come the much deeper, evenly-spaced 50-caliber's response. In my ten months in Baghdad, one of the many things I have come to understand is that the latter is what they call "outgoing", generally a good thing. But when it happens in response to massive celebratory fire, it doesn't seem as effective as its normal silencing of misleading AK fire we experience at night from time to time.

And so, as with so many other random dates, today is in itself again a historic moment for Iraq. Saddam Hussein was convicted mere minutes ago for his role in the 1982 killing of 148 Shi'a villagers in the town of Dujail. The sentence passed down from the judge is that he will be hanged for his crimes, something he protested against instead demanding death by firing squad as a "military man", and not hanging like a "criminal".

The Regional Security Office at the embassy issued a precautionary mandate that all employees should be wearing their Personal Protective Equipment (PPE) when moving around outside on the compound outside, hence my necessary dash home. Everyone in the office is quite; the air conditioner is pleasantly cooling, not much discussion going on…

Earlier, a couple of Iraqi colleagues came into the dining hall with huge smiles on their faces, one of them, an attractive young man that works in motorpool indicated the international sign for "he's dead" by slicing his finger across the front of his neck exclaiming "finally, it's over". I asked him if he thought something was going to happen. He said "you mean something bad?"

smiling again, he added

"…no, of course not, the shooting outside is for the happiness".

So on that "happy" note, I'll keep my flack jacket and helmet on for good measure. "



A Few Hours Later.......


Just an update on the situation in Baghdad...in the scheme of things it was a relatively quiet day - even the celebratory fire was actually less than that which happens after a good football game in Baghdad. I do hear a lot of air traffic overhead tonight in what I can only imagine is continued surveillance of the volatile city. Please keep our Iraqi friends and neighbors in your thoughts and prayers.

Baghdad holdings its breath

With the anticipated conviction of Saddam Hussein expected later today, Baghdad is taking no chances. A curfew has been in place since 2100 last night, and runs through tomorrow - rendering all streets practically impassable to residents, including to our local staff.

The concern is that if a conviction (and subsequent penalty, most likely to be that of death by hanging) is passed, Saddam's own Sunni minority will rise up in anger. Alternatively, if a conviction is not passed, the Shi'a majority might view this as a failure in the fragile justice system.

The imminent conviction is riddled with potential problems and claimed irregularities. Some argue the timing was rigged to provide a boost for republicans before the mid-term elections, others fear that a conviction in this case, will hamper the process of justice in the ongoing Al Anfal campaign. Iraqi law states that if a death sentence is passed, it must be carried out within 30 days. Thus, if Saddam is convicted and sentenced in the Dujail case in which he allegedly ordered the killing of 148 Shi'a villagers following an attempt on his life in 1982, he will most likely not complete the Al Anfal trial that accuses him of systematically killing as many as 182,000 individuals between 1986 and 1989 in his anti-Kurdish campaign.

One thing I wonder about is what Kurdistan will do if they do not see their own slice of justice.

In the meantime, Bradley and Abraham's tanks have been rolled out at checkpoints and we'll be hunkered down, working hard. Please keep the Iraqis in your thoughts.

Wednesday, October 25, 2006

Waiting at Baghdad Airport...

...for the milair can be an excruciating experience to say the least. At least today was not one of them. Unlike the 13-hours I waited for the bird in August to fly me out to Amman enroute to Kurdistan, today was remarkably painless. We left shortly before 10:00 which means we arrived in Amman in time for lunch, which was had at a local restaurant with a strong lamb speciality. Great chops and kebab.I took this photo of some soldiers having a "not so Four Seasons" breakfast a BIAP before heading out for some much overdo R&R.

Sunday, October 22, 2006

Photos of downtown Baghdad

Here are some shots from downtown Baghdad from a trip out to a site a month or so ago, apologies for the quality, they were shot from the back of a humvee.





A tale of two brothers

Once there were two brothers who worked for our agency in Baghdad. One was quiet and one really talkative who loved to greet every person on the compound. They always sat at the first table as you entered the restaurant, ready with a smile and an opportunity to practice their English with their American colleagues who come in for lunch.

While the brothers worked in the IZ, facing the daily challenges our local staff face every day coming and going into and back out of the "heavily fortified Green Zone", the family in Baghdad suffered several setbacks. Displaced more than once from their family home, their mother had suffered a health setback and needed surgery, and then one day, the one brother, the quiet one was shot.

It happened one night when our two colleagues and their two other brothers were huddled in a house together. Gunmen burst through the door and started firing at them. One of the four sustained minor injuries, while our brother, the quiet one, took two shots to the abdomen.

A week later he shows up at work and looks a little pale, our executive officer (EXO - the one that runs the whole compound and all HR issues) looks at him and inquires about his health. After a trip to the CASH (short for combat support hospital), he is cleaned up and the EXO told that had he not risked his life to come into work that day, he would have died (*sic*). They kept him over night and fortunately he recovered remarkably.

Then came Ramadan, the holy month of Islam. While our muslim colleagues fasted, leaving the restaurant empty during lunch hour, life here in the compound continued. Until Thursday...

That night, the other brother got shot. Unfortunately, he was not as lucky as the quiet one.

Walking home from the market with his brother-in-law where he was buying clothes for his son for the Eid celebration, gunmen shot and killed both men, including our colleague, a brother, and as it turns out, a young one - a mere 20 years at that, married not three months earlier.

The reality of what is going on in Baghdad hit us hard on Friday as the news spread through the compound, the mindless acts of violence, the senseless killings, the realities faced by our colleagues. How they do it, I do not know, but we pray for them and I hope you will too.

Wednesday, October 18, 2006

"Can You tell a Sunni from a Shiite" by Jeff Stein (NY Times OpEd)

This makes me warm and fuzzy inside to think that thousands of people are risking their lives fighting a war against a supposed "enemy" that those designing and waging, haven't even researched or studied. Note to all these uninformed morons - asserting yourself doesn't beat the enemy. No, instead, knowing and becoming the enemy, beats the enemy...ask any of the 9/11 terrorists. They lived, ate and became like Americans. That is why they beat the US that day, not because they stormed in as "Muslims" but instead, because they integrated themselves into America. How are we supposed to sell the quagmire that has become Iraq when the drafters of foreign policy and intelligence (*sic*) cannot tell you the branch of Islam that the largest funder of the Iraq insurgency adheres to. But remember, hot off the Public Relations presses in Baghdad "Our strategy for Victory in Iraq is working".

October 17, 2006
Op-Ed Contributor
Can You Tell a Sunni From a Shiite?
By JEFF STEIN
Washington
FOR the past several months, I’ve been wrapping up lengthy interviews with Washington counterterrorism officials with a fundamental question: “Do you know the difference between a Sunni and a Shiite?”
A “gotcha” question? Perhaps. But if knowing your enemy is the most basic rule of war, I don’t think it’s out of bounds. And as I quickly explain to my subjects, I’m not looking for theological explanations, just the basics: Who’s on what side today, and what does each want?
After all, wouldn’t British counterterrorism officials responsible for Northern Ireland know the difference between Catholics and Protestants? In a remotely similar but far more lethal vein, the 1,400-year Sunni-Shiite rivalry is playing out in the streets of Baghdad, raising the specter of a breakup of Iraq into antagonistic states, one backed by Shiite Iran and the other by Saudi Arabia and other Sunni states.
A complete collapse in Iraq could provide a haven for Al Qaeda operatives within striking distance of Israel, even Europe. And the nature of the threat from Iran, a potential nuclear power with protégés in the Gulf states, northern Saudi Arabia, Lebanon and the Palestinian territories, is entirely different from that of Al Qaeda. It seems silly to have to argue that officials responsible for counterterrorism should be able to recognize opportunities for pitting these rivals against each other.
But so far, most American officials I’ve interviewed don’t have a clue. That includes not just intelligence and law enforcement officials, but also members of Congress who have important roles overseeing our spy agencies. How can they do their jobs without knowing the basics?
My curiosity about our policymakers’ grasp of Islam’s two major branches was piqued in 2005, when Jon Stewart and other TV comedians made hash out of depositions, taken in a whistleblower case, in which top F.B.I. officials drew blanks when asked basic questions about Islam. One of the bemused officials was Gary Bald, then the bureau’s counterterrorism chief. Such expertise, Mr. Bald maintained, wasn’t as important as being a good manager.
A few months later, I asked the F.B.I.’s spokesman, John Miller, about Mr. Bald’s comments. “A leader needs to drive the organization forward,” Mr. Miller told me. “If he is the executive in a counterterrorism operation in the post-9/11 world, he does not need to memorize the collected statements of Osama bin Laden, or be able to read Urdu to be effective. ... Playing ‘Islamic Trivial Pursuit’ was a cheap shot for the lawyers and a cheaper shot for the journalist. It’s just a gimmick.”
Of course, I hadn’t asked about reading Urdu or Mr. bin Laden’s writings.
A few weeks ago, I took the F.B.I.’s temperature again. At the end of a long interview, I asked Willie Hulon, chief of the bureau’s new national security branch, whether he thought that it was important for a man in his position to know the difference between Sunnis and Shiites. “Yes, sure, it’s right to know the difference,” he said. “It’s important to know who your targets are.”
That was a big advance over 2005. So next I asked him if he could tell me the difference. He was flummoxed. “The basics goes back to their beliefs and who they were following,” he said. “And the conflicts between the Sunnis and the Shia and the difference between who they were following.”
O.K., I asked, trying to help, what about today? Which one is Iran — Sunni or Shiite? He thought for a second. “Iran and Hezbollah,” I prompted. “Which are they?”
He took a stab: “Sunni.”
Wrong.
Al Qaeda? “Sunni.”
Right.
AND to his credit, Mr. Hulon, a distinguished agent who is up nights worrying about Al Qaeda while we safely sleep, did at least know that the vicious struggle between Islam’s Abel and Cain was driving Iraq into civil war. But then we pay him to know things like that, the same as some members of Congress.
Take Representative Terry Everett, a seven-term Alabama Republican who is vice chairman of the House intelligence subcommittee on technical and tactical intelligence.
“Do you know the difference between a Sunni and a Shiite?” I asked him a few weeks ago.
Mr. Everett responded with a low chuckle. He thought for a moment: “One’s in one location, another’s in another location. No, to be honest with you, I don’t know. I thought it was differences in their religion, different families or something.”
To his credit, he asked me to explain the differences. I told him briefly about the schism that developed after the death of the Prophet Muhammad, and how Iraq and Iran are majority Shiite nations while the rest of the Muslim world is mostly Sunni. “Now that you’ve explained it to me,” he replied, “what occurs to me is that it makes what we’re doing over there extremely difficult, not only in Iraq but that whole area.”
Representative Jo Ann Davis, a Virginia Republican who heads a House intelligence subcommittee charged with overseeing the C.I.A.’s performance in recruiting Islamic spies and analyzing information, was similarly dumbfounded when I asked her if she knew the difference between Sunnis and Shiites.
“Do I?” she asked me. A look of concentration came over her face. “You know, I should.” She took a stab at it: “It’s a difference in their fundamental religious beliefs. The Sunni are more radical than the Shia. Or vice versa. But I think it’s the Sunnis who’re more radical than the Shia.”
Did she know which branch Al Qaeda’s leaders follow?
“Al Qaeda is the one that’s most radical, so I think they’re Sunni,” she replied. “I may be wrong, but I think that’s right.”
Did she think that it was important, I asked, for members of Congress charged with oversight of the intelligence agencies, to know the answer to such questions, so they can cut through officials’ puffery when they came up to the Hill?
“Oh, I think it’s very important,” said Ms. Davis, “because Al Qaeda’s whole reason for being is based on their beliefs. And you’ve got to understand, and to know your enemy.”
It’s not all so grimly humorous. Some agency officials and members of Congress have easily handled my “gotcha” question. But as I keep asking it around Capitol Hill and the agencies, I get more and more blank stares. Too many officials in charge of the war on terrorism just don’t care to learn much, if anything, about the enemy we’re fighting. And that’s enough to keep anybody up at night.
Jeff Stein is the national security editor at Congressional Quarterly.

Saturday, September 30, 2006

Happy birthday to Me!

That's right, today is not only the end of the fiscal year, but also my adios to another wonderful year. Who knew, New Haven to Baghdad in one year...geez, makes me wonder where I'll be for the big 3-0 next year.

Thanks for all the messages, emails and well-wishes.

Monday, September 25, 2006

Some random Ramadan thoughts...

Ramadan started for Sunni Muslims on Saturday, and for Shia'a on Monday (or Sunday depending on who you ask). A few observations. I noticed (perhaps for the first time in a long time) the moon the other night. A slight, very slight crescent - and realized what an important role the moon plays in so many cultures and beliefs.

I've talked to many of my colleagues about it, just noting how much I admire them for the dedication to fast from sun-up to sun-down for thirty whole days. The roughest test has to be the fact that you cannot even drink any water throughout the day. "Nothing must enter the stomach" is how a good friend described it.

I have noticed throughout the day how my friends get paler as the day drags on... lunchroom is empty.

Monday, September 18, 2006

Cool!

Forgot to tell you, I got to drive a Humvee last night. No, not a shiny bright-yellow, $100,000 gas guzzling Hummer H2, a real (probably $120,000 gas guzzling) NAVY humvee! Friend of mine is an EOD tech (read: she dismantles bombs for a living) and gave us a ride home from church in her humvee - and I got to drive, cool!

Sunday, September 17, 2006

Jonah, Ninewa and the Assyrians...

You know how some days you are having a quite ordinary, daily grind, nothing special kinda day. Today was no different – went to the gym for 45 mins, stuck in management training for eight hours, did a yoga DVD before heading to the 18:15 “contemporary” protestant service at the Palace. I can’t help but think how this the “Republican Palace” of Saddam Hussein, has remained exactly that, the “Republican Palace” – only now, the halls crawl with GOP ideologues here for a thrill, and for their president. This article highlights how resumes of incredibly qualified individuals were thrown out in exchange for 24-year olds who gave the right answer to where they stood on Roe vs. Wade.

Wait, this is not the reason for this post at all. But I do encourage all to read the article in the Post to understand some of the frustration we deal with everyday. Back to the reason for my writing tonight however. The sermon, and how a seemingly ordinary day, turned out to have a very special gift at the end. His name is Canon Andrew White. His 6’5” posture is overpowering, and that is before he opens his mouth. The late’ish-thirties Brit who is a visiting pastor to our largely military congregation, save for the development folks like ourselves, towers over the podium, and the congregation is glued. “How many of you were here when I talked about Jonah?”…he briefly scans the room “…ah, maaaahvelous then, you won’t mind if I repeat myself then would you?”, joking with the handful of folks that raised their hands.

He continues to explain that he will preach from the book of Nahum. Something he has done “about once, I think it was about ten years ago”. Explaining the only reason for preaching about this obscure prophet is that one of the members of his Iraqi congregation told him that he is from Ninewa.

As it is, our friend with the Monty Python sense of humor and little tolerance for unwanted political correctness, has worked in Iraq since 1998. He used to live in the Karada district in downtown Baghdad, and had a congregation on Haifa street. That was until the US Embassy told him to move his operation into the IZ after they discovered he had a $5 million bounty on his head. Pastor White continues to worship with his dedicated Iraqi congregation however, albeit within the confinement of the IZ. Every Saturday from around 10:30 or so – apparently last Saturday after 5 hours he tried using a Blessing to end the proceedings, alas, he was there for two more hours as the mostly Caldian Assyrian Christians continued to worship. I was waiting to hear where these proceedings took place so that we might attend next week, when the entire congregation went deathly silent when he explained that it actually takes place in the office of the Shiite Muslim Prime Minister. The reality of that is slow to sink in, when he continues.

People ask Pastor White, “wow, when did the Iraqis convert to Christianity”. Did the Baptists come here? He responds “sure they did, in 2003, right after the invasion – I met them at a Southern Baptist Convention in Baghdad” (sic). After all, how do you explain to people that Iraqis have been practicing Christianity for roughly 2,600 years? At the tale of Jonah and the whale the Pastor exclaims “…and to think Jonah didn’t want to come to Iraq, instead he wanted to go to Spain, I mean REALLY, who WOULDN’T want to come to Iraq???...” we laugh. He continues “not to worry, that’s when God sent him by submarine”. More laughter. The congregation is gripped with his tales of Saturday worships in the PM’s office and quick stabs like “…yes, I am indeed Anglican, but not American Anglican, I’m British Anglican, the side that still believes in the Bible”. Nervous laughter.

To listen to a man preach the Bible that spends his Saturdays working with the people who are in the Bible, is something way beyond spiritual. Just this past Saturday during his Jonah tale, he asked his congregation, “how many of you are from Ninewa” (the town Jonah was sent to save), over 60 people raised their hands…And here they were 2,600 years later. Islam has come and gone through their towns and villages, and they still worship God… and we read about them in the Bible, and they are here, in Baghdad.

I am going to try and get a copy of the service on DVD to share with those interested (and you can be sure I’m trying to go to the service in the PMs office).

Saturday, September 16, 2006

The paintbrush speaks up

A piece of art in a cultural center depicting
Saddam Hussein behind bars

Wise man

A village elder that discussed the needs of this
Rania community with us

Lady of the House

Beautiful Kurdish mother and wife.

Boys with a Bike

These boys gathered for a parting shot outside the home of a
Kurdish beekeeper we visited.

Friday, September 15, 2006

A photo

A Kurdish boy at a sports center for internally displaced people (IDPs) in Kurdistan

Notes From Kurdistan

(This piece was first distributed over email, I repost it here with some photographs from my trip)

Girls learn to sow at a Women's Center
in a village an hour from Erbil, Kurdistan

For the past few days I have had the immense pleasure of running around the hills of Kurdistan. Accompanied by two colleagues, and a team of 10 PSDs (personal security details) I have definitely been treated like royalty, or at least a CODEL as we fly over the rolling hills of this northern province of Iraq, drinking tea with the locals, eating grapes with the Sheiks.

Kurdistan, yes, the place where the Kurds come from, is located on the northern border where Iraq meets Turkey, Syria and Iran. What has made this experience even more unique, is that just last week, while still in Baghdad, I attended the Al-Anfal Campaign Trial of Saddam Hussein. This, the second trial deals with the 1987-88 genocide against the Kurds in which a reported 182,000 lost their lives in brutal attacks including the widespread use of chemical weapons.
(below: A snapshot with some of the kids at a sport center for internally displaced persons)

The Kurdish region is rife with political complexities and this is not the place to try and explain the PUK vs PDK and the dress code of the Peshmerga, rather, I want to highlight the marvelous experience of actually getting to sit down in the most modest of villages interacting with men, women and children.

We drove between villages in Erbil, Duhok and Sulaymaniya province visiting beneficiaries of some of the USAID funded projects in the region. This included a visit to the mayor of a small 34-family village who benefit from a bee-keeping program we ran last fall. Next we attended a training session on the proper use of pesticides, held at a local mosque and widely attended by farmers from this particular village. Here we listened to the frustration of farmers at the realities of not having access to government.

We spent the night in the "5-star" Al Ashur hotel in Sulaymaniya. The run-down structure runs on a skeleton staff, and serves the same food for lunch and dinner with no menu. Nonetheless, there is great potential for its location begs the launching of boats, jet skis on Lake Dukan, and a myriad of other activities such as hiking and mountain biking in the awesome foothills that surround the property. Not surprisingly, it is on the same compound as the Iraqi President Talabani's residence - a large squarish structure that I could see on the hill directly opposite my hotel room window.

Today we attended another training, this time in the recognition, prevention and treatment of zoonotic diseases, again in the modest mosque of a small village. Interestingly, this time the attendance was almost exactly 50/50 males and females. Reason being of course that it is often women who participate in the keeping of farm animals (currently livestock amounts to 50% of Iraq's agriculture activities, which in turn employ 30% of the workforce). We had a heated debate about the culling of birds in the village following the Avian Influenza scare in another part of Kurdistan last year, with demands for reimbursement for such acts.

Leaving the training session, we headed deeper into the hills of Sulaymaniya, and the countryside continued to grow more and more beautiful. For the California crowd, I would say it looked something like the rolling hills in the Sacramento area, during summer, when everything is golden brown, and the bugs are buzzing in the heat...rolling hills, with scattered trees (although much of Kurdistan suffered immense deforestation during the Al Anfal Campaign as innocent civilians fled to the mountains for refuge), and the neat rows of grapes and other fruit trees.


With the Peshmerga guard that travels with the agricultural implementing partner organization.

On this, our last stop for the day, we visited a house way at the top of a small hill, right down in the bottom of a breathtaking valley. The hill sits perched on the edge with picture windows from the ceiling to the floor. Needless to say, I was quite surprised at this obvious opulence, not exactly our run-of-the-mill beneficiary, until I realized what the aim of the project was.

The property is that of Sheikh Muhammed Mahmoud Abdullah. A wealthy man with connections in the right places and a family currently in London, he returned to his old Peshmerga stomping grounds, where he, himself had been blinded by the chemical attacks during Al Anfal. When he pointed in one direction across the mountains he said "Iran is about 6 hours walk that way", it was clear he knew this from experience.

Following his 6 month recovery, the good Sheikh remained in the UK, only to return and build himself what he refers to as his "Freedom House", where the bar apparently opens at 6pm and wine, beer and Rakia flows, "even in Iraq" one of us asked, to which he answers "of course yes, up here [Kurdistan] it is different", and my hunch is, no one argues with the Sheikh anyway. His servants return with a tray of chai, followed by home-grown grapes and figs, topped off with more chai and the best Iraqi sweets I've had. We discuss the 30 varieties of grapes the viticulturalist has found in the area and prod him on information about the sustainability of agribusiness with the right kind of funding.

When I ask for the bathroom he assures me there is a "western" toilet at the top, which I respectfully acknowledge but still opt for the Arabic version by the front door. (which I secretly prefer, makes squatting so much easier)

Long story short, our project funded a trellising and drip irrigation pilot project, currently implemented by a 70 year old Lebanese with a PhD from the Soviet Union who used to be the head of the fruits department in Baghdad under the previous regime. The idea is that if the village sees the Sheik's yield and quality increase, they will come begging for the technology, something that they currently shun for fear of a failing crop. Understandable of course, it's not like the Sheik needs a good yield to sustain his wine habits, but most of the folks down the hill in their mud huts surrounded by kids, do.

And so, my day ends with a 2.5 hour drive back to our office in Erbil, looking out the back of our overly up armored Suburban SUV, plated vest laying too heavily on my bladder full of chai and water...I cannot seem to wrap my mind around the dichotomy between the two sides of this country. On the one side, literally, a place where one feels free, wants to hike and mountain bike, a place where communities seem to make do, perhaps not flourish, but show me a post-conflict society where that is the case, but where people can concentrate on educating their kids and dreaming of their futures, versus what I see in Baghdad. This week, again a colleague lost a family member, this time a cousin who was so brutally tortured, they shoved a cue ball in his eye and stitched his mouth shut...he lived, only to die from his wounds two days later.

And I drive, through the mountains and over the hills of Kurdistan...my mind runs, runs away. Kids splash in wheelbarrows filled with water, folks sell Iranian gas in 10 gallons plastic containers next to the street, and Fleetwood Mac sings

"Don't stop, thinking about tomorrow,
Don't stop, it'll soon be here,
It'll be, better than before,
Yesterdays gone, yesterdays gone"

Thursday, July 27, 2006

Living it up on the island of Hvar

Croatia is turning out to be one of the most wonderful places we have ever visited. And how could it not be, the people are great, the weather is FABULOUS, there is great wine and excellent beer, and you get meat with every meal. Rumor has it Croatians are "suspicious of people who don't drink".

Well, we are presently on the wonderful island of Hvar. I am actually writing this outside an internet cafe on a public square with a lovely tree covered in bougainvilla, overlooking the harbor. True to ourselves we haven't actually sat down and relaxed, instead we've gone mountain biking, taken a ferry to another island, rented scooters and explored the entire island and numerous of their wonderful wineries yesterday. Today we are diving and actually went down to 40m/120ft on our first dive, a first for us, and a heck more colder than the Red Sea. Tomorrow we have rented sea kayaks and will go exploring, just have to make sure we navigate this busy canal properly between the sail boats and all the ferries.

The weather here is wonderful, the people are great and we are having just a great time. We're here until Saturday from where we take a ferry over to Dubrovnik. I will keep you posted. Oh, and another thing, there are cute dogs EVERYWHERE!

I think we're planning on checking out the nightlife tonight, you know, leave the folks at home and come hang out with all the beautiful people from all over Europe that seems to have congregated here. Will update on how that goes.

Thursday, July 20, 2006

Zagreb

(Let me preface this by apologizing in advance for the lack of proper punctuation and any substitutions of Ys for z's and vice versa - the Croatian keyboard is a bit tricky)

So, our trip started in Amman as usual, and as seems to be the norm these days we saw a familiar face. This time it was a close friend who recently departed post for a next assignment in Angola. Surely we shared a few beers and were on the same flight to Istanbul, from where he continued onto his home in Europe to gather up his family for the long haul to the US and then onto west Africa.

Chris and I spent the night in the Airport Hotel, nothing great and certainly a bit of a rip-off, but hey, you cant beat the commute from the one end of the international terminal to the other. Bought some spices and a bottle of some Turkish licorice liqueur for our dads and boarded our flight to Zagreb with what turned out to be the Turkish, Singapore, Turkmenistan and Kazhikstanian national shooting teams. I'm telling you, I haven't had that much fire power on a plane since sharing a flight with a bunch of PSDs into Baghdad. Thankfully I told Chris for once we are off the hook at customs, that's for sure.

On final descent into Zagreb we marveled at the greenery, and realized just how much we have missed it, since we have honestly not seen any green pastures now for over 6 months (what with vacationing largely in deserts in the middle east and what not). Then I spot a small column of smoke rising from beyond one of the perfectly-manicured squares of farmland and commented that I wonder if I could ever see a thin column of smoke again in my life without thinking of a car bomb.

The airport is tiny, lacking even custom forms. We grabbed a taxi and are now enjoying two days in the beautiful Regent Esplanade Zagreb. Chris (insert apostrophe here) folks arrive tomorrow, but tonight we are planning on a traditional Croatian dinner, whatever that entails, I will be sure to update.

PS: Finished Cormac McCarthy's All the Pretty Horses on the plane today, I am hooked, very JM Coetzee'esque.

Tuesday, July 18, 2006

Rrrrrrrrrrrrrr - R&R

Turns out that waiting over 6 months before your first real R&R is a bit much. While we took two 1-week breaks, one never really relaxes since on day 3 you already have to start planning the cab ride back to the airport. So today we are enroute to a 3-week R&R that (yes, once again) involves both sets of parents. Seems like a pretty good time to get out of the Middle East, and let me tell you, I'm packing for it too. See, I've pretty much traveled almost exclusively in the Middle East for the past year, Egypt, Jordan, Morocco, the EyeZee...that all I ever take with me is a bug-out bag (military-style backpack that will fit a Ford Explorer if you try hard enough) filled with some luna bars and a whole lot of scarves to cover up. This time, na-ah, I think I packed every tank top and summer dress this side of the Euphrates.

So, caught a Helo out to BIAP this afternoon, and I have to tell you - it must be 150 degrees in the propwash of the Black Hawk - no kidding. It's so hot your jewelry will catch your skin on fire, and the velocity of the wind through the open door makes your face move about 4 inches to the left. Still better than waiting for the Rhino and getting in at 0300 for an early morning show-time.

Anyway, heloed in, now we're at a camp at Baghdad airport where we spend the night. Took the van to the DFAC (dining facility) but were refused entry because two colleagues were wearing open-toed shoes, and I was kicked out at the second "check point" for wearing a t-shirt with no sleeves - or as they put it "no armpits!" Totally ticked-off and horrendously hungry we took another 15-min ride back to camp and decided it wasn't worth going back, instead opting for a Subway, the only real "dining" option here. Looks like its MREs for breakfast, hope I get one with M&Ms in it.

Tomorrow we take mil air to Amman, then straight to the international airport and hopefully we'll make our flight to Istanbul where we spend the night in the totally overpriced, though fabulously convenient Airport Hotel, situated in the international terminal. And Thursday onto Zagreb where we splurged and booked ourselves into the Regent Esplanade, a classic built in 1925.

Next update - Istanbul...stay tuned.

Sunday, July 09, 2006

Cooling trend

I saw some friends I haven't seen in quite some time, MOSQUITOS! So I knew the weather must have dropped by just enough to have the pesty buggers come out again. Sure enough, today is only 109.4F/43C. I guess bring out the citronella candles.

Home made Pizzas


We had some friends over the other night for home made pizzas on the grill. The trick is to roll the dough thick enough to easily handle, grill them on both sides, then add toppings of choice, and if you have, cover with a Webber lid or some other device to trap the eat to melt the cheese.

Wednesday, July 05, 2006

Baghdad Idols

(left: the 14 first-ever Baghdad Idols contestants - I'm in black second from left)

I decided it would serve my war stories collection well to utterly embarrass myself in front of a couple hundred of my closest friends, as well as a number of ambassadors and generals in town. I therefore participated in the Baghdad Idols contest, recently held at the Palace Pool stage. Not belonging to the "karaoke mob", (and hence, not familiar with the setup of backup music) I showed up with initially two friends to accompany me, which quickly grew to four, and so the terror of "the band" soon spread through my fellow 13 contestants. We sang a nice rendition of Tracy Chapman's "Give me Reason to Stay here" (somehow seemed fitting) but alas, did not advance to the second round ( I do think the "band" was a bit too far outside the box), but what a great time we had! All the contestants were invited to perform on the final night before the sing-off between the final two contestants. A minor (okay, major) technical malfunction didn't do my slice of "American Pie" any favors, but crowd pleaser that it is, I received a hearty help-along from the crowd.

(Right: "Give me one reason to stay here....and I'll turn right back around..." -better be a good one though)

Keeping us entertained

(left) Chris with relay team-mates at the awards ceremony.

With a dearth of viable entertainment options, (since Bono and the "Blue Man Group" are less than likely to appear in neon lights around Baghdad anytime soon) we often have to revert to participating in events ourselves. So it was on a scortcher in May that Chris suited up and strutted his stuff in the monthly MWR (Morale, Welfare and Recreation) swim meet hosted at the Liberty Pool. While he was the strongest starter (see the dive) he just could not beat the West Pointer nor the University of Hawaii NCAA national competitor. A silver and bronze medal will have to suffice...for now.

Please note, it was so hot the participants had to douse their medals in cool water not to singe their chests!