Nice Bombs

Good afternoon. Just for the record, I got my mom to forward me the very first e-mail I sent her from Baghdad. Here it is:

30 Jan 2004, 04:32:32 AM
Subject: Greetings from Baghdad
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Hello! So I am here is busy bustling Baghdad. We are staying in U's Uncle K's house, which is very large and nice, in an upper middle class neighborhood. K is one or Iraq's most well-known scholars, so he lives well. The floors in typical Arab style, are made of marble, and covered in huge rugs. The rooms are so BIG! Everyone tries to feed me all the time, offering my tea and houbous (bread) every hour of the day. Iraqi's complain that it is very cold but it's about 50 or 55 degrees. Compared to Chicago it's quite nice. Very sunny and pleasant.

The houses have cracks in the walls from the American bombs hitting Baghdad. Life goes on as if nothing is wrong, but there are tell-tale signs of war. The electricity is on for three hours and then off again for three hours. But everyone has a battery that automatically turns on as soon as the power goes off. The battery runs a few florescent lights in the main living area. At night they use cerosine lamps to move from room to room. In fact there is a prevalent smell of cerosine in most places from small gas heaters and lights.

Last night we heard lots of gunfire, but we found out that it was not violence, but celebration. Thursdays are the typical day for weddings. Just like in Chicago on New's Year's, Iraqi's shoot into the air to express jubilation. A little unnerving, but I got used to it.

The road to Baghdad was mostly desert - flat and bare and patrolled by big black American helicopters.

Things feel pretty safe, and as I said, the city is alive with people going about their daily business.

Jordan was gorgeous. Amman is in the mountains and looks like Southern California. Both in Amman and here I go to bed about the same time as they sing out the first call for prayer. You would have to hear it to believe it. A chorus of voices from all over the city, filling the still morning air with the melodic chant.

It's a different world here, for certain. But Iraqi's are all very sweet and accomodating. The worst that has happened to me is a mean bout of car sickness from the 11 hour drive from Amman.

So much to tell... On the road I tried to get used to what my father-in-law calls "Eastern toilets." They are not typical in the houses, but in the roadside markets along the highway, they are merely ceramic holes in the ground over which you squat. Next to the hole there is always a plastic watering can with a spout, much like what we might use to water plants. You use that to wash yourself off afterward (no toilet paper). But as I said the bathrooms in the houses are American/European style, but with the addition of a bidet. Very clean. Wish I had one in my apartment.

Ah... what else? Easy to get into Iraq... We had a driver take us in a big SUV. We are to have lunch now with U's stepmother's family. The food here is AMAZING. Love it love it love it! The music too... Everywhere you go, there's music on the radio...

I'm in an internet cafe at the moment. They have their own generator.

I'm learning a few new words of Arabic every day. U's Arabic came back to him quickly. He understands almost everything people say...
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U and I just walked a little ways up and down the main drag but felt uncomfortable. There are army tanks and a police car on the corner, close to this very cafe. Last night they were looking for car bombs.

But most importantly.... today we met Salam! Yay! We talked about media, politics, and blogging. And I shared with him the fact that I've been blogging for five years. Yep, I'm an old-timer at this thing.

Should I talk more of pet peeves and emote about my homesickness, or just let it be? I'll vent. I'll bitch. I like to bitch. Today I was shooting U and Salam and U's cousin talking - serious work for the documentary. Someone brought out sodas on a tray. I had my mind on the conversation and on my composition, and trying to get good angles in the harsh mid-day sun. Several minutes later Ua's aunt came out and put the soda glasses on the tray and ordered me to take the glasses inside and wash them. Oh sure, like I'm not doing anything important at the moment. I'm just playing with U's camera... ARRRGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!! I waited til their was a pause in the conversation, then did as I was told. As I walked in the door she said, impatiently "YES, PLEASE!" Gah! I have to rein in my wish to start being passive aggressive. She's not going to have anything nice to say about me after I leave, I just know it.

Salam asked me if I got mad about having to wear an abiya in Kadhamia. Pshhht. That's the very least of my peeves.

Anyway, I really enjoyed meeting him. He's very nice. I like him.

U's cousin asked me, why do I like to write in a blog, but I don't like to talk in person. I've always been this way. I like expressing myself, but not with my mouth. I love to listen to people, but it takes much familiarity for me to speak my thoughts out loud. As well as a sense that I share some of the same references as the person to whom I am opening myself.

But here. On the web. In writing. No problem. Like I said, I like to bitch. It keeps my head from exploding.

What have I already written about? I just wrote last night...

Oh we had curtained rice today. YUM!

So... bye bye. I look forward to home... I'm losing my perspective on this spot in the world. And I think I may be catching a cold...

K