Today I went to have lunch at the home of a local Sheik. The Sheik was very wealthy, even by American standards and had a very large and nice home. Unfortunately I was only able to see the outside and one room of the inside. One of the first things that everyone in our group noticed was that he had a lawn with bright green grass. As I was waiting outside the house for all of the leaders to eat, I noticed two of the Iraqis walking in from the field, and one of them was dragging something long a black. My vehicle commander went over to investigate and learned that they had a black snake. It was either a Cobra or a Viper. The Iraqis showed no fear in handling it, and it was obviously dead, and I am glad there is one fewer snake in the world.
When it was my turn to eat, I walked inside the walled compound eagerly anticipating the Arab feast that I thought was coming. To my disappointment, it was not an Arab feast, but American food that had been made by American cooks. It was very good, but not what I had been expecting. The house and yard were amazing, and by far the nicest in the area. I took my plate and enjoyed a meal on the shaded grass. Nearby I watched a man face to the south and pray the noon prayers. The tables and food were on the patio, and around them were scores of American and Iraqi soldiers eating and talking. After I finished I went around and corner and found the restroom. It was outdoors, and to my surprise, had running water. It was an area in the side of the patio, and there were three stalls, and four sinks. Each stall had a bedpan shaped hole in the tile, and a hose and pitcher of water to ensure everything made it down the hole. I made sure to wash my hands when I was done. I spent about an hour in the patio and yard, and helped clean up as the lunch wound down. It was an enjoyable and memorable experience, but one that was disappointing as well. I had really been hoping that the food served at the lunch would be Iraqi, and I could have another variety of genuine Arab food. To add irony to the story, when I came back to the camp and went to the dining facility, it was Indian night. I got myself a delicious plate of curried beef, rice and Aloo Cabbage. The cabbage was the best. It was mixed with potatoes and spicy. One way or another I got to have my genuine ethnic food. I had genuine Indian food because most of the cooks are Indian. Of the two experiences, I found my walk through the villages to be more enjoyable.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
A walk down the street
Today I went on a patrol with a small unit from another battalion. They escorted my soldier and me on a mission, and when they dropped us off at the outpost, they allowed me to come with them on their mission. I knew them all from when they had escorted us on previous missions, so we already had a relationship established and worked well together. The mission today was to do a dismounted patrol through several villages and pass out leaflets and interact with the civilian population.
At the first village we went to, all the soldiers were followed by children like swarms of mosquitoes. I was handing out flyers, but since we did not have a lot, I could only give them to the adults. Since we had them, all the children wanted them, and anything else we had. They were very persistent. I felt like the only word I said in that town was la (no). Everyone was friendly, and talked openly with us as much as we could with the language barrier. I was always alert, but did no feel threatened in any way. I truly enjoyed the chance to walk through the streets and see what this country is really like. I only know how to say hello, goodbye, thank you, and yes/no in the language, but it was enough to pass out flyers and communicate goodwill. After a time the children got annoying. Many of them would follow us for as long as they could, begging for the flyers that we had and soccer balls. We gave out balls at each town, but we only had enough for one per town. Telling them no and to go away would only get a few seconds reprieve. At one point, another NCO got out a pair of flex cuffs and started walking towards the kids with them, and that got him a minute or two of peace. In spite of the harassment, both the adults and children were very friendly to us. Many Iraqis just came up to shake our hands. This was the largest of the four villages, and we spent the most time walking here.
At one point, as we were moving a short distance in the truck, the driver asked me if I had a dollar on me. I asked why and he pointed to a bakery on the right side of the road and said they had excellent bread. I got out of the truck and another NCO, the XO and an interpreter came in with me. I was the first to enter, but didn’t know what to say so I stepped to the side to allow the others to pass through the doorway. The Iraqis inside looked a little nervous at first, but when they saw we just wanted bread they quickly warmed up to us. The interpreter helped me, and placed an order for me. I paid one dollar for 10 pieces of hot from the oven flatbread. It was delicious, the best I’ve ever had. I had plenty and shared with the driver and gunner of my truck.
The next village we walked through did not have nearly as many children out. It was not as big, and it was later in the day and warmer. There we many groups of men sitting in the shade as we walked along. I would walk up to them and say Salaam aleikum ( Peace be upon you), hand out a few flyers and then say ma Salaama and be on my way to the next one. I was never alone, and always had at least one other soldier with me. Often the one I was with was passing out a different flyer. After giving some to a group of men sitting on the steps of a Mosque, I looked and saw two other soldiers at a storefront across the street. I walked over and passed out a few flyers then kept a lookout while they talked to the people. It turned out they were bartering for sodas. This particular shop has a brand of citrus RC Cola that they liked. The deal they agreed on was four for a dollar, and so all the soldiers in the area got a soda. It was cold and very good and came from a glass bottle that Iraqis wanted back when we finished. I walked into the store to give the bottle back. It was dimly lit, and had cases of food and drinks stacked everywhere on display. There was an old woman in a tradition black dress inside, and all the men and older boys were outside talking with us. Once we had all finished our drinks we got in the trucks and moved on to the next stop.
I cannot remember the names of the places I visited today, but even if I could I could not pronounce them. The third village that we went to had no shortage of both pedestrian and vehicle traffic. I continued to pass out flyers, and was followed by a fair number of children. One 7-8 year old boy came to me and gave me a piece of hard candy. I said shukran (thank you) and pocketed the candy. Another Iraqi came up to me to shake hands. To my surprise he read my name from my uniform, and then showed me his ID card so I could read his. After walking a little further I saw a roadside butcher shop. I knew it was a butcher shop because there was a sheep tied up on the ground and two men were busy cutting its throat. I tried not watch. When I walked back later there was a puddle of blood running out into the street.
The last village that we visited was more rural than the rest of them. By now it was noon, so most of the people stayed where they were in the shade and let us come to them. We walked by a house with a fenced in barn, and another soldier told me to look over the fence to see their baby donkey. It was light grey, only two feet tall and really cute. I saw another bakery, and gave flyers to the bakers, but I had no more need for bread. Across the street was a produce stand, and I watched as another soldier bought some plums from them. Once we reached the end of the road, we got back in our vehicles and drove back to the camp.
Though it was hot and tiring, and I drank 2 gallons of water to keep cool I enjoyed the day immensely. I learned more about the culture and people than I have on any other day I’ve spent here.
At the first village we went to, all the soldiers were followed by children like swarms of mosquitoes. I was handing out flyers, but since we did not have a lot, I could only give them to the adults. Since we had them, all the children wanted them, and anything else we had. They were very persistent. I felt like the only word I said in that town was la (no). Everyone was friendly, and talked openly with us as much as we could with the language barrier. I was always alert, but did no feel threatened in any way. I truly enjoyed the chance to walk through the streets and see what this country is really like. I only know how to say hello, goodbye, thank you, and yes/no in the language, but it was enough to pass out flyers and communicate goodwill. After a time the children got annoying. Many of them would follow us for as long as they could, begging for the flyers that we had and soccer balls. We gave out balls at each town, but we only had enough for one per town. Telling them no and to go away would only get a few seconds reprieve. At one point, another NCO got out a pair of flex cuffs and started walking towards the kids with them, and that got him a minute or two of peace. In spite of the harassment, both the adults and children were very friendly to us. Many Iraqis just came up to shake our hands. This was the largest of the four villages, and we spent the most time walking here.
At one point, as we were moving a short distance in the truck, the driver asked me if I had a dollar on me. I asked why and he pointed to a bakery on the right side of the road and said they had excellent bread. I got out of the truck and another NCO, the XO and an interpreter came in with me. I was the first to enter, but didn’t know what to say so I stepped to the side to allow the others to pass through the doorway. The Iraqis inside looked a little nervous at first, but when they saw we just wanted bread they quickly warmed up to us. The interpreter helped me, and placed an order for me. I paid one dollar for 10 pieces of hot from the oven flatbread. It was delicious, the best I’ve ever had. I had plenty and shared with the driver and gunner of my truck.
The next village we walked through did not have nearly as many children out. It was not as big, and it was later in the day and warmer. There we many groups of men sitting in the shade as we walked along. I would walk up to them and say Salaam aleikum ( Peace be upon you), hand out a few flyers and then say ma Salaama and be on my way to the next one. I was never alone, and always had at least one other soldier with me. Often the one I was with was passing out a different flyer. After giving some to a group of men sitting on the steps of a Mosque, I looked and saw two other soldiers at a storefront across the street. I walked over and passed out a few flyers then kept a lookout while they talked to the people. It turned out they were bartering for sodas. This particular shop has a brand of citrus RC Cola that they liked. The deal they agreed on was four for a dollar, and so all the soldiers in the area got a soda. It was cold and very good and came from a glass bottle that Iraqis wanted back when we finished. I walked into the store to give the bottle back. It was dimly lit, and had cases of food and drinks stacked everywhere on display. There was an old woman in a tradition black dress inside, and all the men and older boys were outside talking with us. Once we had all finished our drinks we got in the trucks and moved on to the next stop.
I cannot remember the names of the places I visited today, but even if I could I could not pronounce them. The third village that we went to had no shortage of both pedestrian and vehicle traffic. I continued to pass out flyers, and was followed by a fair number of children. One 7-8 year old boy came to me and gave me a piece of hard candy. I said shukran (thank you) and pocketed the candy. Another Iraqi came up to me to shake hands. To my surprise he read my name from my uniform, and then showed me his ID card so I could read his. After walking a little further I saw a roadside butcher shop. I knew it was a butcher shop because there was a sheep tied up on the ground and two men were busy cutting its throat. I tried not watch. When I walked back later there was a puddle of blood running out into the street.
The last village that we visited was more rural than the rest of them. By now it was noon, so most of the people stayed where they were in the shade and let us come to them. We walked by a house with a fenced in barn, and another soldier told me to look over the fence to see their baby donkey. It was light grey, only two feet tall and really cute. I saw another bakery, and gave flyers to the bakers, but I had no more need for bread. Across the street was a produce stand, and I watched as another soldier bought some plums from them. Once we reached the end of the road, we got back in our vehicles and drove back to the camp.
Though it was hot and tiring, and I drank 2 gallons of water to keep cool I enjoyed the day immensely. I learned more about the culture and people than I have on any other day I’ve spent here.
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