Friends of mine know that I’ve been sending emails to keep everyone posted on my experiences in Iraq. Considering that I’ve begun this blog I’ll assume there will be folks reading this that don’t know me from a whole in the wall. Basically I’m a filmmaker from Los Angeles that landed a job as a video editor in Baghdad. I left LA about four weeks ago and this is my second week here, as they say “in country.”
Tuesday I went with one of my coworkers who has been here a couple years, Shane over to the Al Faw Palace to get another ID card. I can’t remember why. I already had one ID issued to me back at CRC in in Georgia. Shane pointed out the fabled man eating fish that live in the water that surrounds the palace. They looked like big grey coy fish to me, nothing dangerous. Supposedly Saddam kept the fish as a way to dispose of his enemies, which reminded me of the bookie in the movie Snatch that kept a pig farm for the same reason. The guards at the Al Faw Palace are Tonga Marines. I’ve never knowingly seen someone from Tonga. I know they are from Tonga because it says Tong Marine on their uniform. But that’s all they do is man the guardhouse at the entrance of the palace. Big dudes, that’s for sure.
If you know me well from LA you probably know my drinking habits. Fact is the only alcohol I’ve had since I left has been a 24 ounce can of Budweiser. I’m not sure of what the rules are around here but it’s not like the Vietnam War movies where there’s free cans of Bud everywhere. I don’t know, I wasn’t there, but I would bet that had something to do with product placement. - One thing you can find here in abundance is bottled water. It sits around on pallets mostly around the PADs. A PAD is a cluster of living trailers. All that water is gonna come in handy once the weather heats up.
Most mornings my boss Mohamed (not young Mohammed) and I meet at 7am, and drive to have breakfast at the DFAC before heading to the office. Wednesday we pulled into the parking lot of the DFAC and this army guy starts screaming at us because he felt we were speeding. No matter where you are on this military base, and it is a big base the speed limit is no more than 30mph. We couldn’t have been going any faster than 15. This guy, coming off his morning jog is screaming at us to the point he was trembling, “Don’t you be speeding around here!” I don’t know what his problem was. Whatever it was I’m just grateful I don’t have it. He ordered us to “roll the window down,” I did, he continued yelling, Mohamed and I just sat there, in the front seats of this Ford SUV, in shock, it was too early for all that shit, we couldn’t even respond it was so bizar, until this guy started walking away. I said, “Have a good day, sir,” rolled my window back up and he’s got to get his last word in, “don’t speed!” I felt like I was in second grade getting yelled at like that. And the reality is that if he was a stranger and I was in LA, I would have told him to go fuck himself for screaming at me like that. But this is not LA. This is not like most places. This is a military base in a war zone.
I don’t socialize with any of the soldiers here. Perhaps that will change. Most of my time is spent with my six coworkers. The base is very insulated from the war outside. It really is an eye of the storm. The past five days have been very quiet. I haven’t heard mortar fire for as many days until this morning. I think it was four but I can only remember hearing three. The last one seemed louder than the first few. Maybe that meant it hit closer. They usually attack with mortars early in the morning, around sunrise when I’m half asleep, and if you’ve lived in apartment buildings like I have most of my life your first thought is, “oh, it’s just the neighbors upstairs slamming the door.” But then you remember where you are and what most likely just shook the whole room.
About an hour later, following our morning routine Mohamed and I drove to breakfast and ran across General Petraeus and his entourage. I actually didn’t recognize him. Mohamed pointed him out. He was going for his morning jog like many other soldiers and contractors before they head to work. Someone mentioned he is a very competitive man. He’s also short.
Unfortunately today is turning into the second day in a row I planned to go to the gym and didn’t.
