July
4, 2009 - At this point, I am getting very, very short. The summer transition season has started, and
new people have begun to arrive. Some
friends and colleagues with whom I've worked for almost the duration of this
assignment have left or are preparing to leave.
In reviewing what Anne had written, I realized that, while certain
fundamental changes have occurred, her observations about the overall
environment here and the pressures under which we work still remain quite
valid. As one of my preparations for
departure, I want to renew my focus on setting down my observations and advice
for those following me. I find it very
interesting to hear the impressions of my new colleagues to the Embassy,
Baghdad, and Iraq, and what they hope to take away from their generally one
year here.
I
have some additional topics definitely in mind, and, if I don't get to them
here, I hope that I will have the time, energy, and dedication to send my last
notes to Anne from my next assignment.
Anne's observations and mine will gradually become obsolete as people
change and the Embassy's relationship to the Iraqi government changes, but I
think this website will always remain a good starting point to assess the
implications of taking a job here. I'm
also happy to see that Aaron Snipe, my colleague at PRT Muthanna, has a blog
with his perspective on life as a Foreign Service Officer in Iraq, "Wingtips on
the Ground" (www.wingtipsontheground.com). Aaron is a fine writer, and he does a
terrific job of documenting the joys and frustrations of working at a
Provincial Reconstruction Team. Having
been to Tallil Air Base and experiencing firsthand the conditions that he has
to cope with, my hat is off to Aaron for his sacrifice and contribution.
During
the orientation course in Washington in preparation for this assignment, a
mental health practitioner used a set of rhyming words to describe what effect
Iraq service might have - that we could emerge as "a drunk, a chunk, a hunk, or
a monk." The pressures here might cause
us to drink too much, the easy availability of DFAC food might cause us to eat
too much, we might handle stress by constantly working out in the gym, or we
might react by devoting ourselves excessively to work and retreating into
ourselves. I certainly have the "monk"
tendency, since I tend to be an introvert who recharges his batteries by
spending time alone. The fact that I'm
writing this at 7:00 p.m. on a Saturday night of a three-day weekend might seem
to be an indicator of my monkish tendencies.
While it is certainly true that I often spend weekend evenings in my
room, what this fact overlooks is that I was up until 3:00 in the morning the
previous night, after going to the Triple Canopy security company's Fourth of
July celebration and getting several nightcaps afterwards at the American
Club. I feel the need to dry out and
recuperate, although I might still get to the Marine House later this
evening. As I think Anne can attest from
our time together in the Foreign Service Officer A-100 orientation training, I
do appreciate a good party.
In
a very early note shortly after my arrival, I commented that life here seemed
to combine aspects of camp and dorm life.
The subsequent months have given me no reason to change that first
impression, and indeed have reinforced the similarity to being in a frat or
sorority. With the exception of the rare
couple where both husband and wife have work here, all of us are either single
or "geographic" singles. Other than
work, we have few recreational outlets; we generally cannot go out on the town
for dinner or to a concert and have no family concerns to absorb our time. Although Morale, Welfare, and Recreation
(MWR) sponsors various activities such Texas hold 'em poker nights, salsa dance
or aerobics classes, the main outlet seems to be partying, of various
intensities. The social events can range
from decorous dinners in one of the DFAC's side rooms to the packed events at
the Danish or Italian Embassies (more on that later). Copious amounts of alcohol tend to be
consumed at the various events. At one
point, Anne made a comment regarding a common Facebook friend's frequent photos
of parties and dinners, and the food at them, and that he seemed to be
socializing in Baghdad much more than she was in Washington.
The
frequent comings and goings of people on one-year assignments provide a reason
to have frequent parties to farewell and welcome them. This weekend, for example, in addition to the
Fourth of July festivities (including the Embassy's own), Sunday evening will
be the Ambassador's reception to farewell and welcome the high-level diplomats
who handle economic and assistance issues, as well as two other informal
get-togethers hosted by departing colleagues who are trying to finish up their
supplies of wine, beer, and booze. I've
been invited to other farewell events over subsequent evenings, including
drinks at my boss' apartment for a departing economic officer, separated by a
couples wedding anniversary celebration.
If I get to every event, I will have been at a party four nights in a
row. While I also often spend weekend
evenings in my bedroom watching a DVD, my evenings are likely to be filled
quite frequently now until my departure.
During
another memorable period in February, I went to a UK Embassy charity event on
Saturday, Prime Minister Maliki's dinner for international provincial election
observers on Sunday, an informal get-together at a picnic table with colleagues
on Monday, and farewell party for a good friend at the American Club on
Tuesday. By Wednesday, I was happy to
spend a relatively quieter (and dry) evening watching a movie offered by the
Embassy Cinema Society ("Jar City," an Icelandic detective movie) with
diplomatic colleagues from the British Embassy.
At
the Palace, we could have drinks at the "OFF-Site," so named because it was
located in the same building where the UN Oil-for-Food, OFF, documents were
stored. The OFF-site was manned by
Embassy volunteers, and there was another establishment, to which I was never
invited, called the "Lock and Load."
Because of General Order Number One, which, among other provisions,
forbids soldiers under Multinational Force Iraq (MNF-I) command from drinking
alcohol, the Post Exchange (PX) store by the Palace did not sell alcohol. We had to make the trek to the Green Zone's
liquor store, nicknamed the "Pharmacy," to obtain any liquor. Once we moved to the New Embassy Compound
(NEC), however, to our great joy, the NEC PX sold all manner of hard liquor as
well as beer and wine. The American
Club, also called "Baghdaddies," is also located just across the street from
the apartments and is open on Thursdays and Fridays (our weekend nights, since
Sunday is a work day). (Although I
preferred another choice, Duck-and-Cover, the name Baghdaddies was chosen by a
vote of the Embassy community. Most
people seem to prefer to refer to the bar simply as "the American Club.")
Other
drinking establishments do exist in the Green Zone, although no commercial
ones, which I gradually located, thanks partly to the fact that my job requires
that I interact with diplomats from other embassies. There is a bar on the UN compound, and the UK
Embassy also has a bar that is open most days of the week. The UK Embassy is also quite active in
hosting social events, such as the "Help the Heroes" charity auction that I
referred to and the St. Andrew's Day Ball, a black tie formal event that really
spirited me and other attendees away from Iraq.
The ladies in attendance were decked out in their finest, and several of
the British diplomats were dressed in kilts.
On this and one other occasion, I was able to pretend that I wasn't in
Iraq.
Two
smaller embassies, the Italian and Danish, seem to specialize in throwing
parties. The Italians have a monthly
pizza party to which invitations are highly prized, and the Danish security
detail also throws parties for which they try to carefully control the
male-female ratio. I managed to get
invitations to both, but quickly decided that I was way too old for the single
bar scene atmosphere at both events. The
pizza at the Italian Embassy, not unexpectedly, was quite good. I'm also under the impression that the
security companies located in the Green Zone have a parallel party scene to
which relatively few Embassy people are invited. Finally, the Marine House here holds
infrequent open houses usually on Friday nights (which, remember, are like
Saturday nights elsewhere).
In
addition to the wilder parties, more decorous events also take place on the
NEC. We all have kitchens in our
apartments, so there are some people who like to cook and entertain. I mentioned the incredible dinner that I
attended in another entry, which would have been memorable even in Washington,
DC, but was completely out of this world in Baghdad. A woman who was originally from Taiwan was
also an excellent cook, and developed ingenious ways to obtain the ingredients
for various dishes, methods which she would not reveal to others, probably
because she broke several Embassy regulations in doing so. A group of compatible single women here have
initiated a "ladies night out," during which they take turns hosting each
other. I am quite happy to be invited to
a colleague's apartment on Friday to try his Arabic cooking. I definitely try very hard to become friends
with anyone who says they throw dinner parties.
I've also tried my hand at cooking, bringing sushi into the office and "spam musubi," a favorite dish in Hawaii, to a party.
I
realize this description of NEC and Green Zone parties creates a very skewed
picture of life here. The fact is that
we have few distractions other than work and socializing. We don't have to take our cars to have the
oil changed or to wash them, we don't have to do weekly grocery shopping, or
attend PTA meetings; we are either working, very often for ten or twelve hours
per day and often on our nominal weekends, or we can party. We work many hours with people and, to be
honest, I often prefer to be by myself, rather than to socialize with the same
people. In the end, however, we have to
seek some distraction, and other people's company helps us to forget where we
are and the limitations that we have on our freedom and our peculiarly
restricted lifestyle, which, despite the partying, is rather monastic.