Hard for me to imagine leaving the car idling in neutral with no parking brake, but I guess one never does...
20081020
This is like something I would do...
Hard for me to imagine leaving the car idling in neutral with no parking brake, but I guess one never does...
20080116
It was a good day
Today has been a good day. I had to do some driving around and for some reason, everything just looked a little better, or queer (in a good way), or flowing today. I caught myself wishing i had a video camera as i drove down the dusty street and just taking notice of the jolly little puffs of dust kicked up by the tires of the truck in front of me, and how everyone that i passed on the road seemed jolly, even a guy outside of his car with the hood and trunk open and a rag in his hand, obviously having some kind of problem. I noticed at that moment how the sun was setting and it was so red and nice and glowing and kind of making a really pretty picture in the sky even over this typically drab landscape. it all came alive with a warmth and somehow i landed on some weird baghdad radio station that was playing some nice western and westernized arabic pop music and it was all very upbeat and added to my general good mood. I was pulled over by some police for a random search and for some reason... maybe he sensed my good mood... he just asked me about being in the air force (because of my weird badge) and when he found out i was an 8 year army vet, he just waved me on through. The grey hairs in my beard must be working in my favor with the whippersnappers. I teetered on like that all the way until i got home, and the fijians were even especially good natured, waving me through with 'hello mr. mark' and 'bula bula'.
sooo.. the cool thing that happened was pretty minor, all things considered, but it was still pretty cool.
a few days ago, i helped one of the iraqi kids get out of hot water with his boss by rebuilding a pc and cleaning some virus infested thumb drives and he went home to baghdad on leave... when he came back he brought me a box of goodies from his local bakery and it was all so yummy...
one of them was like a flaky crust with dates, another had peanuts, and another had pistachios. The best tasting ones, I couldn't quite figure out what was inside, but they were all gone in an instant. So thanks to my dear Iraqi friend for the tasty treats, I'm sure it was a huge pain for him to cart all the way back here and deal with it on the bus and all the checkpoints, etc. so this was a huge deal for me. Heartwarming to say the least.
i was feeling well chuffed about that so i thought i'd share it.
20080114
In the palace
Today I met up with an old Army buddy of mine. We were E-4s together way back when, and he managed to stay in and is currently doing some amazing work as an E-8 here in Baghdad.
I was able to get the grand tour from him of Al-Faw Palace, one of Saddam's many here on the BIAP. I'm not too sure of the significance of it , but it appears to be a popular destination for dignitaries and USO entertainers alike.
It is a grand palace, there is no doubt and nicely achieves it's aims of being impressive and ostentatious. There are larger ( The ruined Victory over America palace), more entertaining (The perfume palace, the Flintsones Village) and there are more important (Saddam spent little time here), but this is the one I got to see, and I'm pretty stoked about it.
20071216
Day on the range
Not to be a dangerously retarded gun nut, but I had a blast on the range (Pun intended).
Got an opportunity to test the Benelli you see here, a couple of versions of M4, an AK-47 modified for sniper use with a long barrel and optics, an MP-5 and a Glock-19.
My shoulder was hamburger after running through a full load 3 or 4 times.
Fun.
20071210
Not very many Americans here...
My spot is unique in a lot of ways. The post will eventually be taken over by Iraqis. Almost all the troops here are already Iraqis being trained, and some of the base functions like the dining facilities are already run by Iraqis. Every other base in Iraq as far as I have seen is all US and British servicemen, run by US and British contractors. The force protection of the camp is exclusively Fijian guards. This one on the other hand is all Iraqi and some US and Canadian Special Forces and Italian Police Forces. An american company runs the base, but the base operations is subcrontracted to another US company and the communications and support is further subcontracted to my company. interestingly, many of the employees of the second tier company are not US at all, but mainly brit, irish, norweigian, canadian, etc., and for some reason many of them are expats from Kenya originally. The end result is that the culture is pretty varied.
20071207
keeping the rubber side down
rose early (3 or 4am dubai time) because i was feeling a little jetlagged. I managed to get checked out and to terminal 2 of DBX fairly quickly. i ate a nice airport cafe breakfast of a nice omelet plate with juice and coffee for about $8.
I got on my flight and was promptly shocked by the utter half-assedness of Iraqi Airways (IA). On any other flight I'd ever boarded, there was at least a sense that professional airline people were managing the process. With IA, there was the distinct sense that the level of disorganization and craziness could only be because nobody involved had even the experience that a seasoned traveller has. After boarding an, ahem, well broken in jetliner, I became worried when there were more passengers than seats. Several of the final passengers to embark were african contractors who do FP (force protection) and none of the Iraqi passengers would allow them to be seated near them, using luggage and other infantile gestures to keep them from sitting down. Eventually some of the Iraqi's carry-ons were moved to the cargo hold over their angry, childish protests, and the flight was finally allowed to leave.
Once landing in Baghdad International Airport, it was definitely like being in a different world from Dubai.
I stepped out of the vintage 70's jetway and into an airport that seemed frozen in time from a bygone, soviet/arab inspired architecture. Where dubai was an expansive and impressive combination of High Tech Western Europe and Exotic Middle Eastern, baghdad was an improbable mix of stodgy eastern european drabness and backward third world disrepair and casual filth. the high ceilings were ridden with birds and we quickly descended a staircase into an unkept, crowded series of passport lines. I was immediately struck by the masses of security personnel loitering in the area. First by their unprofessional demeanor, but second and most, by the sense that a wrong move could get their AK's talking first. our local national from our office met us there and directed me to the line while he somehow cut through masses of red tape to acquire a visa for my traveling companion. I made it through the line with little trouble, and we picked up our bags from the vintage luggage carousel and made our way quickly through customs, and outside to where another of our employees was waiting. we rolled to our waiting truck, threw in the bags and motored quickly out of the garage.
Driving out of the airport, I was struck by the incredible state of disrepair of everything. I could not tell if all the damage had been done by the hostilities years ago, or if things had been pretty much falling down to begin with, or by neglect of the government in the years since the invasion.
We motored to the vast network of military bases that surround the airport and motored past the one that I will be staying at and to the one where our other employees work at. There I was introduced to our people here in 6 or 7 at most, and then made my way to my own post.
I was escorted by the guy I'll be replacing, and he showed me around and introduced me to the local logistics team. I was shown to my hooch and got settled in.
I got on my flight and was promptly shocked by the utter half-assedness of Iraqi Airways (IA). On any other flight I'd ever boarded, there was at least a sense that professional airline people were managing the process. With IA, there was the distinct sense that the level of disorganization and craziness could only be because nobody involved had even the experience that a seasoned traveller has. After boarding an, ahem, well broken in jetliner, I became worried when there were more passengers than seats. Several of the final passengers to embark were african contractors who do FP (force protection) and none of the Iraqi passengers would allow them to be seated near them, using luggage and other infantile gestures to keep them from sitting down. Eventually some of the Iraqi's carry-ons were moved to the cargo hold over their angry, childish protests, and the flight was finally allowed to leave.
Once landing in Baghdad International Airport, it was definitely like being in a different world from Dubai.
I stepped out of the vintage 70's jetway and into an airport that seemed frozen in time from a bygone, soviet/arab inspired architecture. Where dubai was an expansive and impressive combination of High Tech Western Europe and Exotic Middle Eastern, baghdad was an improbable mix of stodgy eastern european drabness and backward third world disrepair and casual filth. the high ceilings were ridden with birds and we quickly descended a staircase into an unkept, crowded series of passport lines. I was immediately struck by the masses of security personnel loitering in the area. First by their unprofessional demeanor, but second and most, by the sense that a wrong move could get their AK's talking first. our local national from our office met us there and directed me to the line while he somehow cut through masses of red tape to acquire a visa for my traveling companion. I made it through the line with little trouble, and we picked up our bags from the vintage luggage carousel and made our way quickly through customs, and outside to where another of our employees was waiting. we rolled to our waiting truck, threw in the bags and motored quickly out of the garage.
Driving out of the airport, I was struck by the incredible state of disrepair of everything. I could not tell if all the damage had been done by the hostilities years ago, or if things had been pretty much falling down to begin with, or by neglect of the government in the years since the invasion.
We motored to the vast network of military bases that surround the airport and motored past the one that I will be staying at and to the one where our other employees work at. There I was introduced to our people here in 6 or 7 at most, and then made my way to my own post.
I was escorted by the guy I'll be replacing, and he showed me around and introduced me to the local logistics team. I was shown to my hooch and got settled in.
20071206
Lucky Dubai
left colorado springs at 1305 mdt after an extremely yummy meal at the COS airport restraunt just outside security with my kid and my moms
arrived atlanta at 1730 edt
attempted to get drunk at ATL in an attempt to make ATL-DBX flight a little more bearable. three stellas later, and the cute girls working the ATL concourse E bar were looking better and better and I made small talk with some ATL locals, and a Colorado Springs resident. Predictably, the conversation with my fellow Springser seemed to revolve around the familiar topics of HRC's inherent unsuitability for the highest office, the stupidity of anti-war protestors, and extremely racist theories related to the success of certain school districts in COS.
departed ATL for DBX at 2005 edt
arrived at DBX 1830 xxt
cleared immigration and customs in amazing time and took a taxi to Sofitel by 2000
I neglected to obtain currency and the DBX airport taxi was unable to accept payment via Visa or Amex. Luckily the Sofitel reception helpfully provided me with Dfa25.00 for the taxi driver while I attempted to get checked into room 934. once in my room, i washed my face and retired to the nicely appointed executive lounge on thne 11th floor. There I was treated to a spare but high quality buffet of sliced fruit and hordeurves. The fresh dates were especially tasty. I ordered a single stella and had planned on retiring to my room but the staff informed me that all my drinks were on the house.
My hotel, Sofitel, was very nice, but reminded me of a Las Vegas hotel: trying way to hard to be luxurious, and ending up seeming sort of cheesy. Overall the service was good and the room comfortable, but I'm going to have to spend more time here before I can really make a call. Looking out the windows, and scanning the local cable channels, there is obviously much, much, more to Dubai. I read some interesting stuff in the english language newspaper, not just about the recreation opportunities in the dunes and the local indoor ski area, but also some pretty disturbing hints about the different dynamics of the vast army of imported service industry and construction labor.
interesting, a group of US contractors were loudly complaining about missed flights to Kandahar, internal shop politics, and shockingly, openly discussing the large numbers of lovely eastern european prostitutes that work the area. they dished on the price for a night with a lady and some of their business practices. I had understood that they will approach wealthy (or at least well-fed, well-paid looking american contractor) types while playing pool or drinking at one of the local establishments and make themselves open to advances. More information than I needed to know and it was shocking how openly and loudly they made this seamy business known not only to the guys pouring drinks, but also to the belgians, myself, and others within earshot of their loud conversation. i ended up ordering a second, ill-advised stella in order to hear some more of the loud contractor gabfest unfolding. Had to do something since I couldn't get any internet service.
arrived atlanta at 1730 edt
attempted to get drunk at ATL in an attempt to make ATL-DBX flight a little more bearable. three stellas later, and the cute girls working the ATL concourse E bar were looking better and better and I made small talk with some ATL locals, and a Colorado Springs resident. Predictably, the conversation with my fellow Springser seemed to revolve around the familiar topics of HRC's inherent unsuitability for the highest office, the stupidity of anti-war protestors, and extremely racist theories related to the success of certain school districts in COS.
departed ATL for DBX at 2005 edt
arrived at DBX 1830 xxt
cleared immigration and customs in amazing time and took a taxi to Sofitel by 2000
I neglected to obtain currency and the DBX airport taxi was unable to accept payment via Visa or Amex. Luckily the Sofitel reception helpfully provided me with Dfa25.00 for the taxi driver while I attempted to get checked into room 934. once in my room, i washed my face and retired to the nicely appointed executive lounge on thne 11th floor. There I was treated to a spare but high quality buffet of sliced fruit and hordeurves. The fresh dates were especially tasty. I ordered a single stella and had planned on retiring to my room but the staff informed me that all my drinks were on the house.
My hotel, Sofitel, was very nice, but reminded me of a Las Vegas hotel: trying way to hard to be luxurious, and ending up seeming sort of cheesy. Overall the service was good and the room comfortable, but I'm going to have to spend more time here before I can really make a call. Looking out the windows, and scanning the local cable channels, there is obviously much, much, more to Dubai. I read some interesting stuff in the english language newspaper, not just about the recreation opportunities in the dunes and the local indoor ski area, but also some pretty disturbing hints about the different dynamics of the vast army of imported service industry and construction labor.
interesting, a group of US contractors were loudly complaining about missed flights to Kandahar, internal shop politics, and shockingly, openly discussing the large numbers of lovely eastern european prostitutes that work the area. they dished on the price for a night with a lady and some of their business practices. I had understood that they will approach wealthy (or at least well-fed, well-paid looking american contractor) types while playing pool or drinking at one of the local establishments and make themselves open to advances. More information than I needed to know and it was shocking how openly and loudly they made this seamy business known not only to the guys pouring drinks, but also to the belgians, myself, and others within earshot of their loud conversation. i ended up ordering a second, ill-advised stella in order to hear some more of the loud contractor gabfest unfolding. Had to do something since I couldn't get any internet service.
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