Chai

Chai. It appears to be a staple of the Iraqi diet. I know they drink other things, but that's all they ever have when we're around. Chai is always served hot, too hot to drink at first in my opinion, and puts Southern sweet tea to shame when it comes to sugar. The classy way to serve it is in little tea cups with a tiny spoon, similar to the ones you find as souvenirs in tourist stores. The higher ranking police generally serve us in tea cups, but the other "shurta" or lower ranking police just use whatever cup is lying around. The quality of cup goes unnoticed after the first several times because dishes aren't generally washed, just rinsed. The first time I had chai, it was a little unsettling because the guy got water from who knows where, boiled it in a pot you'd expect to find on the side of a road, served in a broken glass which had brown and green stains on both the inside and out. If that wasn't enough the guy brought me a tea spoon that looked like a piece of cafeteria flatware bent too many times and nearly at the breaking point. I smiled, said "shukran," which means thank-you and looked at what could be the beginning of a few days in bed with medicine. It wasn't going to disappear on its own, so I took a sip, only hoping to not get Iraq's version of Montezuma's revenge. After finishing the cup, he dipped the glass in a pot of water, not once, but twice to make it extra clean, filled the cup with tea and gave it to the next person. Again, the thought of getting sick flashed by, but passed since it was too late and the water was boiled. Now, I thought nobody washed dishes, but I made it to a general's office one day. He rang his buzzer, and the shurta came in a few minutes later with a platter of tea cups of chai. This looked better than the last cup of chai I had, so I took a sip, and to my surprise, behind the sugar and tea, was the everpresent taste of soap. Apparently the general's personnel wash dishes, but don't have the whole double-dip rinse routine down yet.

Chai is a huge part of the Arabic culture. It is rare to interact with an Iraqi in their home or office without them offering to make tea. "Southern hospitality" is anything but negotiable to these people. No matter how little they have, they will always share everything with visitors, as I saw with the shurta. We like to drink coffee and socialize, but they prefer chai. They do have espresso, but I'll share that story another time since I have one page dedicated to two cups of chai.

Anyways, everything is going well here. Life is boring, but busy. I suppose boring might be a good thing, at least to those reading this. Anyways, days fly by and it seems there is never enough time to accomplish anything. What might take a day or two to do in the States, takes a few days here. E-mail and phones are luxuries that are only slightly enjoyed here. The best way to do business is to get on the leather express and walk to the different offices around the base. It hasn't been bad the last month, but as of late, the temperature is in the 80's, and the ground is either sand or gravel, so walking anywhere isn't just a leisurely stroll. Needless to say, sweating is the norm, which means drinking gallons of water. Not 8oz glasses, but liters at a time. Which causes a whole different problem, I'm not terribly familiar with, finding a bathroom nearly every 30 minutes. There are plenty of porta-johns, which can get a little ripe in the sun, but waking up multiple times a night to walk to the bathroom gets old after the first time.

I found a piece of paper blowing across the ground one day. Being the hippy I am, I picked it up thinking I'd put this piece of litter in it's propper place (even though we drive through acres of garbage when we leave one of the gates of base). Turns out it was a baptism certificate for a Christian church. I know this because the church's address was in english, as was the baptism portion, but the rest was in Arabic. I didn't throw it away, just kept it. Kind of weird to find that in a Muslim country, I think.

Last little anecdote for the night. A group of us were walking through an Iraqi neighborhood one day when we came across a group of boys playing soccer. They didn't say anything, just passed the ball to one of the guys with the expectation he would juggle it. Didn't happen. Instead in an uncoordinated kick the ball flew across the street and bounced off someone's gate. The boys got the ball and brought it back to us, and juggled it to the next person. A circle of people grew and we juggled the ball around to each other as well as the Iraqi boys, just like I did with guys from the soccer team a few years ago. There's really no point to the story, other than it bringing back memories of my "younger" years, and the passing thought, "we're playing soccer in the streets of Baghdad."

I guess we're doing all right here in Iraq.

Life For The Next Few Months

So, my life for the next few months will surely be different from that in the states. The following description of "home," sounds terrible, but it's not as bad as it seems. I'm in a little trailer and have a roommate. It's a nice room, but I had more space when i was at the Academy. As for the scenery, it's all military equipment and concrete walls about two stories tall. If it wasn't for the few times I've gone outside the compound, I'd never know that I was in Iraq. And the smell, you can never escape the smell of diesel/jp-8. There are a lot of vehicles moving around, large diesel generators provide power 24/7, and the occasional helo flying around leaves quite the exhaust trail. I guess they burn the trash at night, so the smell of burning plastic envelops the base and makes you want to cover your face as you walk to the bathroom. The smell is gone by morning, but then it's back to diesel. I guess the ground is pretty dense, because when it rains, or actually sprinkles, the dirt turns to a thick soup and it stays that way for days. Good news is that it doesn't rain all the time and the weather has been pretty nice and comfortable the last few days.

As for my job, everything is good and I was working from the first day I got on the ground here. I'm a bit overwhelmed right now with all the information I have to learn, but it will settle here in a couple weeks. Since I'm supposed to help the Iraqi police, I studied Arabic to help break the culture barrier. Apparently I didn't study hard enough because I find myself breaking into Spanish when some of the people talk to me. I have a translator, but it would be a lot nicer if I spoke the local language.

Since I'm brand new to the area I have a fresh look on things. A lot of people don't like the Iraqis, or Arab people as a whole. They're considered to be lazy, dumb, worthless, beggars, etc. I had the opportunity to get off base and walk around the local market to see where the police work. Those few minutes on the ground were awesome. In that time I had the time to "talk," and interact with the Iraqis. To laugh, joke, and shake hands with the men and children was a pretty powerful thing (We ignore the women to keep them out of trouble with their male family members). Come to find out, their just like us on a basic, human level. They don't have the work ethic or the rules that allow us to have such a high quality of life, but I'd bet they enjoy the simpler things in life that we take for granted. With the exception of the over-zelous religious fanatics, the Iraqis and Arabs as a whole are good people. So after ignoring the fanatics, but not turning a blind eye to their treachery, we'll continue helping the Iraqi people stand on their own feet and take control of their destiny. I can now honestly say I will enjoy working with these policemen and seeing their progress as the weeks and months pass. I'm sure there will be bad days, but by the end I expect to see huge gains.

Wheels Up

For all intent and purposes, I'm OCONUS (outside continental US) for the next few months. I'll be travelling and living in temporary quarters for the next week or two with the rest of my training group, so internet connections will be pretty spotty. Not sure when I'll actually arrive at my final location, but I'll do my best to let everyone know. In the mean time, take it easy and have a good weekend.

First Entry Disclaimer

So, in an effort to maintain some type of communication with friends and family, I figured I'd try blogging. I'm terrible at calling people and sending emails, so we'll see how this typing every-once-in-a-while thing goes. Please don't expect daily updates, as most of you know I'm a quiet and reserved person anyways.

As you know, I'm headed overseas shortly to train the Iraqi Police--IP for short. I'd like to say I will do a lot of training and have a huge impact on the Iraqis, but my mission will be to take care of the people left to my charge so they can carry out the training. I'm sure I'll have plenty of time with the Iraqis, but making sure my people are fully supported will keep me employed. Our goal is to advise the IP chiefs and their personnel on law and order techniques as well as good practices for operating a police station. There are plenty of important missions in the Middle East at the moment, but ensuring the Iraqis are able to provide for their own defense and security is paramount to ensuring the success of our exit strategy. In order to make forward progress we must overcome the obvious language barrier, but even more difficult are the cultural differences. From our point of view these differences are viewed as laziness, stupidity, chauvinist, etc., but whether they are or not doesn't matter. The differences are ever-present and we must find a way to connect on common ground rather than change a population that was once the center of civilization years ago. Only time will tell how effective we are...

Enough rambling for me; if you're looking to get in touch with me, feel free to send an e-mail (phone will be disconnected shortly).