For those of you who follow my blog regularly, you know that I have had numerous fights with the laundry trying to recover the sacred frog pillowcase.  Every time I get a new cleaner, he takes it puts it in the laundry and then it takes me two weeks to recover it.   This usually happens when I go on R & R, after its recovered then the management informs the cleaner not to touch the pillowcase. 

So I got a new cleaner,  our old cleaning guy was better, but they needed him for some fussier clients.  So, it was bed linen day and I happened to come back to my room in time to snatch the sacred frog pillowcase from the black hole of the laundry.  Actually the pillowcase isn’t really the sacred part of the equation, it is actually the pillow that is sacred; I have had it since I was a child and it is flat, I don’t like fluffy pillows.  However, the pillow case is what designates it as MINE!

I put the frogs back on the sacred pillow and put the other pillowcase in the laundry, thinking that they would put it back in circulation.  It came back with my clean laundry, so I left it on the arm of the chair thinking the cleaner would pick it up.  He didn’t.  So then I put it out on the step and it was brought back with my laundry.  I left it on the arm of the chair again and there it remained until bed linen day, when I put it in with the bed linens, it came back with my clean laundry yesterday, Saturday.  Today I walked into my room and the frog pillowcase was gone and the sacred pillow was encased in the normal pillowcase; I thought I was going to have to go through the hassle of tracking down the frogs again when I spotted them in the laundry hamper.  I took off the normal case, redressed my pillow in frogs and then took the offending case into the management’s office, where I told my story to the two people who could communicate with my cleaning guy not to mess with the frogs.  I left their pillowcase with them and asked them to please tell my cleaner that I will put the frogs in the laundry when I feel they need to be washed. 

Gosh I hope this is resolved, but somehow I doubt it.  Tune in tomorrow for ellipitcal ecstasy.

This year Thanksgiving coinicided with Eid Iftar and an increased threat of kidnapping.  A specifTic threat was made against NGOs; militias are looking to kidnap NGO workers to  exchange them for detainees from the Charge of Knights, an offensive launched by the Iraqi Army to drive the Mahdi Army milita out of the city.   The operation was the first major operation to be planned and carried out by the Iraqi Army since 2003. 

The threat was specifically made against Medicins Sans Frontiers and they pulled back all their expats from the city.  We also brought our expats on base for several reasons, security, the office was closed for Eid and to celebrate Thanksgiving.  Because we get R & R we don’t get any holidays, so I was in the office in the morning and I planned to pick up my colleagues from the airport at 11:30 a.m.   We had some difficulties getting into the gate because one of my colleagues did not have a badge, so we had to be escorted to the badging office by the Military Police. 

We had to walk up through the mud to Delta Gate, the water was so deep in some places I had to cling to the fence to not get my feet all wet up to the ankles.  We finally got back to the badging office and they issued a temporary badge, then said they had an interview spot to get the process for a permanent badge started at 1:00 p.m. so I took them out to the camp where we had billeted them, and we couldn’t find the guy to get them checked in.  So we headed back to   drop my colleague off for her interview, dropped the other two off for lunch, gave them the car keys so they could run some errands, then had a Skype interview for an M & E position in Sudan at 2:00 p.m.  Right as I was finishing my interview the gang came back, so I drove them out again to see if we could get them checked in and once again the guy in charge of billeting was nowhere to be found, so finally after about a 20 minute search we tracked him down, got them checked in and then I dropped them off at their hootches.  It’s been raining in Basra since Tuesday and it has become a huge mud pit.  So we were all running around in about two to four inches of mud. 

I was supposed to meet my friends the Majors, Jennifer and Kim for Thanksgiving service at 3:45 p.m. and I would have made it had the billeting guy not been out to lunch the two times we went to check my colleagues in.  In addition, one of my colleagues wanted to take part in the Thanksgiving dinner at the DFAC so I needed to go to service and then come back out to pick her up.  The REO compound where they are staying houses the State Department people, the UN people and the Provincial Reconstruction Team and it is out in the boondocks compared to where the rest of us live. 

In addition, I needed to stop by my trailer to change my shoes, I had been running around in the mud in my Birks and I had to have closed toed-shoes for the DFAC, so I made it to the service by 4:10 p.m. The service was multi-cultural we had a reading from the Torah, a reading from the Quran and a reading from the Bible, in addition, they had a couple of soliders tell what they were thankful for, the first woman was fairly brief, the second man went on and on and on, Kim said it sounded like he was practicing for his retirement party.  I was just thankful when he was done.  The best part of the service was the COB Basra Gospel Choir, they were awesome. 

After the service I drove out to the REO for the third time and picked up my colleague and we went to dinner.  There was what I thought was a long line when we arrived at around 5:30 p.m., but it got longer and longer by the time we got out of their at around 6:30 p.m.  Dinner was GREAT, they had ham and turkey fixed all different ways and the roasted turkey was tender and moist , the mashed potatoes were seasoned and probably the best I’ve ever had, I also had a roll, green beans and stuffing.  The stuffing looked a little suspicious, but it was great.  The DFAC really did a great job, they even had eggnog and sparkling cider. 

The one disappointment came at dessert.  Jennifer was taking our pie orders and I wanted pumpkin, she and Kim wanted pecan, and all they had was apple and cherry.  I whined a little bit so Jennifer went off to see how she could fix the situation.  While Jennifer was off getting pie, Kim leaned over and said, o.k. when Jennifer comes back lean over to me, pretend I’m her Mom and you’re her sister and ask “So Mom, what are we doing for Christmas?” 

Jennifer came back and started to place a piece of pumpkin pie between me and Kim, I took one look and said, “Where’s the whip cream?”  She rolled her eyes picked up the plate and returned five minutes later with the pie, topped with whip cream. Setting it down she said, “It’s frozen, but it’s pumpkin. And you guys have to share a piece because after he brought it out the other vultures got the rest of it.

I leaned over to Kim and said, “So Mom what are we doing for Christmas?”  Jennifer’s face lit up with a big grin and she said,  “We aren’t even done with Thanksgiving, let’s finish one holiday before we move onto another.”  We all laughed.  She explained that every Thanksgiving she has a fight with her sister; so now her Thanksgiving was complete. 

The British Consulate had their dinner in a private room and as they paraded out I looked up to see one of solidiers holding his pumpin pie point down by the crust.  It was still good, but I’ve never had pumpkin pie freeze my teeth before.  In the end Kim also got a piece of pecan pie.  I dropped the majors back at work, then headed out to the REO for a Thanksgiving get together.  It wasn’t Grandma’s, but it was good.

So I asked for new carpet, I thought it wasn’t that big of an ask as myorganization pays $135 a day for this and the carpet has stains all over it, not sure what they are from and not sure that I want to know.  But they decided to clean it again and then change it out when I’m on leave.  So, now my room smells like mold scented with cleaning fluid lovely. 

The only other news is that three of the expats are moving on to the compound for Eid Al Iftar because of increased threat.  The only problem is, is that there is little or no room on the compound as we speak so I’m scrambling to find a place for them to stay.

Well it’s day two after the great flood and my room is now starting to smell halfway between moldy mushroom and wet dog, by tomorrow it should be pretty intolerable.  I asked them to take care of it today and they said they would but so far it still smells like I have an extremely large wet dog in my room, it sort of looks like it too with all the sandy footprints that are trailing across the carpet.

Last night I was invited to Indian food at another  compound, they served chicken tikka, hummus, thinly sliced onions and green peppers and steaks, it was delicious and a nice change up from the grub here.  Afterwards they had Karoke, the sign said “Caution Dodgy Karokee” and it was right, but it was fun and change from my normal social calendar, which is mainly eating at different  places.  They also had a pool table and I was coerced into playing, boy am I a bad pool player, but I didn’t lose for two reasons.  My opponent was kind enough to give me some pointers and he scratched on the eight ball. 

Still  super tired, everyone is attributing it to the change in weather, whatever it is I hope it goes away soon, all I want to do is sleep.  Well I’m off to work out and maybe figure out some nose plugs.

Last night I went to a dinner party at Jacq’s.  I brought the hors d’oeuvres, chips and salsa, Shaun brought dessert, cookies.  Six of us met at Jacq’s then we headed into the DFAC to get steaks and food and brought them back to Jacq’s office where we ate by candlelight.  Well at least the environment was a change.

I woke up this morning and my carpet is still soaked I’m going to see how long it takes to dry out or smell funny.  I’m betting it smells funny before it dries out.  Shaun one of my NGO colleagues keeps threatening me that he is going to grow mushrooms under my bed.  I’ve decided I’m going to wait and see how long before I can’t stand it any longer and then I’m going to go beg them to changed my carpet.  It actually rained almost all day today so I went from wet carpet to wet ground, at least my wet carpet prepared me for the dampness outside. 

The wet carpet is so cold in the mornings I can’t do anything without slipping 0n my Birks first. 

Tonight Jacq and I are going over for Indian food at another compound so that should be something different.

No don’t be alarmed it was just my toilet.  Since I got back from home leave, my toilet has been running about once a week.  Normally I just prop up the floater and it stops and then goes back to normal, but not this time; this time it ran and ran and ran.  I had gone to the airport to pick up some paperwork from the office when they were dropping off three of my colleagues to take the Iraqi Air flight to Baghdad, but it was cancelled.  Here in Iraq we have the enshallah method of transportation, if God wills it, it will happen. 

So I brought my colleagues on base for some shopping at the PX and coffee at Echos, the local restaurant, after I returned them to the airport, I went back to my room to start writing to discover it was half flooded.  There is a drain in the bathroom, it was covered by a metal plate.  So instead of writing this afternoon I had workers in and out of my room and the door is open so I have a ton of new visitors in the form of flies.  I think I’ve killed 50 of them so far.  Not very hospitible of me, but they are pesky buggers. 

It seems odd that just as it’s getting cold we are having a fly invasion.  So I’m sitting here at my desk covered with books, papers, one banana, two bags of muesli, speakers, a box of Kleenex . . . it’s a huge mess, typing on my blog with the fly swatter in close range. 

One side of my bedspread got soaked in the flood, so they changed my bedspread, but they left one side sitting on the wet floor so it’s now wet again. 

In addition  there is a cleaning smell in my room so I have  a headache.  Wow, what a day off.  Now if you’ll excuse me there is cocky fly sitting on my flyswatter.

Well the weather finally changed last night on November 19, it was the first night it about 8 months that I turned off the air conditioner.  Then I woke up with the beginnings of a cold. 

Today at lunch we had turkey pancakes, gross, I ended up eating salad and fries.  Sometimes the food is o.k. Friday nights are steak night on the B & B, or lobster, crab legs and steak at the DFAC.  One Sunday I was lucky enough to have stir fry at the DFAC for lunch it was delicious.  The food here at the B & B is hit and miss, but you can usually find something o.k. to eat at the DFAC, but it’s a bit far to go so I only go about once a week.

One of the things that I’ve noticed about being in a situation like this is that little things seem bigger than they would in other situations, I think its because there aren’t a lot of other outlets.  People particularly seem to get more agitated and sensitive the closer they get to leave.  Most people are on two months to nine weeks and then off three weeks to a month.  At Mercy Corps we work nine weeks and get 10 days off. It seems that the men with wives and children back home have the worst of it; particularly when things are going well.  Everyone deals in different ways.  Almost everyone works out, because there isn’t a lot else to do, then some people retreat into their trailers and silence, some regularly go out to the local “restaurant” Echos for tea or food.  Others spend their evenings talking to their families on Skype.  Everyone has different coping mechanisms, but all seem to break down upon on occassion. 

Whatever you do, the environment seems to eventually get to you.  Sometimes I feel tired with no visable cause.  My colleague Shaun says that it’s the stress of living here, but I don’t particularly feel stressed.  He says sub-consciously we are stressed.  Who knows.

I had to meet our driver at the airport today to deliver of all things a BBQ for the gang in town.  On the way back into the camp there were 21 trucks waiting to get in through the gate.  I got behind the last truck and prepared to wait, there were two cars, one van and one PSD truck in the second lane next to the line of trucks, it looked like they were trying to sneak in.  As I prepared to enter between the cement walls, the guy in the silver truck, the PSD guy yelled for me to let him in.  I told him I didn’t want to wait, that Iwas outside the wire without arms.  He said, “Idon’t care! That’s my convoy.”  I said, “Well if you don’t care I don’t care,” 

He then proceeded to try and get in ahead of one of his trucks, then he changed his mind and came back and knocked on my window.  I didn’t want to open my window to him and at first I ignored him, then I rolled it down.  He was yelling at me that he had to be in his convoy because they are all counted together.  I told him when he got some manners I would care.  But then I let him in. 

He then went and whined to the American Military who guards the gate.  I felt bad for them.  And I apologized to Johnson for having to deal with that.  Then after I got through they were waiting for me and the gate commander came up and explained how convoys worked.  I told him that was fine, but why if he was the last vehicle wasn’t he in line with his convoy and I also told him that there was nothing to indicate that the silver PSD truck was part off the convoy.  And then I told the guys that it wouldn’t be a problem if the guy had manners, but that I didn’t appreciate him not caring that I didn’t want to be waiting to get in the gate, when there had been three gate incidents this week.   Then I apologized to the gate commander.

The PSD guy said, “We deal with IEDs and that stuff all the time,”  I turned to him and said, “And that’s your choice and you get paid well to do it so don’t complain to me.”  PSD can make $400 a day, that is way more than the army makes, I thought it was in extremely poor taste to brag about what he’s subject too, in front of military personnell that make 1/4 of what he makes and take the same if not more risks.

The guy and his buddy then started yelling at me and I asked the army guy if I could be excused and he said yes, so I took off. 

I don’t mind following the rules when I know what they are, but what I hate is when those guys puff up their chests and try and intimidate you.

All has been calm in Basra as far as IDF goes since I left on August 31, which was about the time RTI another NGO brought in two new guys so Shaun from RTI thinks they are our good luck charms.  Although we haven’t had IDF, there have been a couple of gate incidents, where the military has shut down the Alpha or the Delta gate.  The last one which occurred Tuesday, was a lockdown so we all had to stay in our compounds until the all clear which I never heard.  I have to attend a security meeting at the request of the Mayor’s cell on Saturday so it will be interesting to hear what is going on.

They still have Charlie Brown’s Dad doing the annoucements Waa, waah, waah, waaa Alpha Gate waah, waaa, waa.  The only time I heard the annoucement clearly was when I was in the PX.  The PX has expanded and is huge although all the shelves are low enough for a clear line of site.  The big news this week is that Burger King and Pizza Hut have opened, but I’m currently trying to drop the ten pounds I put over break, so I’ll have to check them out later.  It has also been humid here lately, I wake up and my carpet is wet and my sandals are wet from the humidity. 

Work wise I’ve been tasked with organizing the four trainings that we have to give under Objective II, so I have been going through all the materials and am working to create training manuals.  Last Sunday I went to church and my two buddies from the Red Bull Troops, Jennifer and Kim were there, it was great to see them. 

I still feel like I’m in limbo, waiting on Africa, but at least I have something to do.

It was interesting right after I posted on mean girls and my confrontation with one from the past, I got blindsided by one in my work sphere.  It’s a long story and doesn’t bear repeating, but she had dumped on me once, than came back and wanted to be friends because she wanted something again, and then I guess when my usefulness was over she dumped on me again.  I told her that I didn’t appreciate being used by her and called her on her behvaior.  What was amazing was the gyrations she went threw trying to justify herself when there was absolutely no reasonable justification except perhaps self-centeredness.  I wish I could tell the whole story, becuase it’s really amazing, but someday I’ll write about it in my book about my Iraq experience.  I think I’m going to call it “Cursed by God”  reflective of the fact that uneducated Arabs think that people with disabilities are cursed by God and my experience.  

In the meantime I’ve ordered the book “Mean Girls Grown Up”  I don’t want to be blindsided anymore.  It’s sad that when you are naive and trusting you can get completely runover.  I’ve also learned that in a situation like this, where you are very isolated and your support group is far away that it’s important to be a little more guarded, maybe not let people in so quickly because the isolation makes drama ten times worse than if you can go home at night or get away from it.  That and I need to get better at spotting drama queens quicker so I can distance myself.

Not much else is going on in Basra.  The NGO group stationed on the base, MC, RTI and TRC have recommenced Friday lobster night at the DFAC, yum.  Upon my return from Basra, I was tailgated by a humvee.  I had my colleague in the car and I heard this squeaking noise and I turned to him and said is someone honking, we both looked at each other and then I turned down the radio and looked behind me to see a humvee that was hauling laying on it’s horn which was wimpy.  It sounded like a little squeak, like something you would find on a VW or something, I moved over and let them pass, after all they had a huge gun.  I guess I had gotten in the middle of a convoy. 

Then on my way back I got passed by the Private Security Detail of the British Embassy driving likes bats out of hell and I know I didn’t interrupt their convoy.  It’s Thrusday which means the weekend is coming up, but I also have been sick, I must have ate something at the guesthouse in Basra that didn’t sit well with me, because I have had knifing stomach pains for two days and been unable to eat anything.  Hopefully, I’ll be able to eat tonight.