Reflections

It’s hard to believe I’ve already been here in Baghdad for two weeks.  Time apparently passes quickly in a war zone.  Perhaps it’s the long work hours.  Perhaps it’s the constant hurried clamor around the office.  Or perhaps it’s all of the extracuricular activities I try to squeeze in at the beginning and end of the day — working out, karaoke, movies and popcorn with friends.  Either way, I don’t think that the remainder of my time in Iraq will drag by.

I am starting to miss the conveniences of modern civilization.  Although I am officially living in a trailer (as a opposed to a tent with nine other girls), it’s still an awful long walk to the latrines.  There are no port-a-johns nearby that I can make a quick pitstop in if I wake up in the middle of the night.  Speaking of a port-a-john, my legs have definitely gotten stronger from squatting and hovering.  God forbid my bare bottom touch the gray, plastic seat, even if it has just been cleaned.  Sunny, my new roommate and friend, has decided that they are also the secret to weight loss.  Just find a potty after eating, inhale deeply, and you won’t be able to keep your lunch down.

I’ve also lost pretty much every shred up modesty left in my being — as if there was much to begin with.  When I first arrived in Iraq, I tried to cover myself while getting in and out of the communal shower, cleverly wrapping myself in a towel while I both dressed and undressed.  I took my fresh clothes, hair dryer, and makeup with me to the wet trailer to avoid being seen out of best form.  Yeah, that lasted about a week.  I now walk around the showers naked and back to the room in booty shorts and tanks with a towel wrapped around my head.

I’m certainly beginning to appreciate the little things in life more, as well.  I miss being able to cook a real meal.  The food here is horrid.  Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating.  It’s not terrible, but the menu never changes.  We have several fast food stops around the base, and although they serve the same greasy items, they taste absolutely nothing like they do back in the states.  Sunny made a jug of sweet tea using an electric water kettle a few days ago, and it was like a little piece of heaven.  We had to improvise by cutting empty one liter water bottles in half to fashion cups.  Bubble baths, cars, air conditioners, high speed internet connections, cell phones… I appreciate all these things a little more every day.

It’s come to my attention that I’ll have to do most, if not all, of my shopping online.  Shortly after arriving, they upped the pickup time for laundry to 72 hours.  That means that I have to wait three days before receiving my clean clothes.  I seriously did not bring enough with me.  I ventured up north to the BX this morning and quickly realized that my options are limited.  Apparently, all of the women in this camp wear one of two sizes of bras, 32A or 38C, and one shirt size, large.  Thankfully, I do have the internet.  I ordered a few hundred dollars worth of tanks, tees, bermudas, and capris.  Oh, and three pairs of shoes.  I’ll be set for the rest of the summer.

I’ve learned a lot since I’ve been here, and I don’t just mean in relation to work.  I’ve learned what it’s like to walk home at night to the eerie chanting of a muslim prayer call broadcast over loudspeakers from a distant mosque.  I’ve learned how a jackal will react if you corner it.  I’ve learned to tolerate half dirty dishes since we have no sinks to wash them in.  I’ve learned to navigate, dress, and pretty much do everything by the faint glow of a flashlight bulb.  I’ve learned about Saddam Hussein and the intricacies of his palace.  I’ve learned the difference between the sound of an incoming rocket and an incoming mortar.  I’ve learned to enjoy simple things that we all sometimes take for granted — a cool breeze on a hot night, an interesting book, freedom.  I’ve learned what it’s like to be caught in a dust storm as a helicopter hovers close before landing.  I’ve learned what that Baghdad dust and dirt turns into when it rains — slick yet very sticky, glue-like mud.  I’ve learned what the men and women serving in our troops really do for our country, what they do for us.  Most importantly, I’ve learned about myself, my own strengths and weaknesses.

I’ve been here such a short time, but I already feel like the trip has been worth the absence of familiarity.  I still have a long way to go and a lot more to learn.

Peace and love,
Felina