I’m in a camp filled with men yet whenever I need my furniture moved or a bungee cord or my door rigged there is not a single male to be found. My mate Kate has the same problem. My trailer is right in front of the staging area for one of the PSDs and they use Iraqi staff and sometimes it is very difficult for me to step out of my trailer in the morning because they still haven’t gotten used to me, so they all stare, I feel like I’ve forgotten my pants or my shirt, so I do a quick double-check to make sure that I’m fully clothed then duck my head not meeting any of their eyes and head to breakfast.

Today I took my male colleague Java to the airport and he doesn’t know how to drive so I was driving. As we were leaving he noticed I had short sleeves on so he said aren’t you going to cover, I had forgotten so I grabbed my sweatshirt. We went to the airport to pay a holding fee for the restaurant that was providing meals for the training. It’s interesting dealing with the men here because they are so used to dealing with other men and not women. They mainly spoke with Java and although I paid the man the money he tried to give the receipt to Java. And on top of it most of them have never seen a woman my height it is super hard to blend in here.

We left the airport through a sea of Iraqi police and they stared in absolute amazement as I hopped into the driver’s seat and Java took the passenger seat. Java put on his sunglasses and said, “See I’m so cool, I get driven my the tall blond American.”

In addition to the Iraqi men you have to put up with a little bit of ribbing from the PSD men, most of its o.k. but the other night this young 26 year-old kid was completely drunk and out of line. He threatened to beat me. I find it so annoying that in the midst of the way women are treated in Iraq that some young punk kid thinks he can threaten to beat me. His friends quickly removed him from the situation, but he was so out of line. It’s sad the PSDs have an opportunity to set an example for the other men of Iraq, a lot of them do, but this kid obviously wasn’t spanked enough as a child.

“If we give the money to the widows, they will spend it unwisely because they are uneducated and they don’t know about budgeting. But if we find her a husband, there will be a person in charge of her and her children for the rest of their lives.” — MAZIN al-SHIHAN, director of a city agency in Baghdad, on his plan to pay men to marry Iraqi war widows.

Maybe we should educate the women? Just a thought.

Things in Basra continue to roll along. Pretty much routine. The break from the routine was when one of the PSD units went up to the American Base in Talil and brought me back a Whopper from Burger King. It looked liked he had sat on it all the way back, but I heated it up for dinner and it was excellent.

I also got a care package from my cousin Schelle. She was a navy wife for years and the package was perfect, soap, and the soap here is terrible, hand cream, books that her bible study group gathered for me, some snacks, tea and coffee and a miniature Pink Flamingo to complete my white trash trailer look.

There is some talk that some people from the office might get to visit the field soon, but I doubt I will be one of them.

The camp was crowded for several days because all the PSDs (Personal Security Details) were on lockdown due to the celebration following the 40 holy days of Muharrum, 40 day of mourning to mark the anniversary of the seventh-century death of the Prophet Muhammad’s grandson Hussein, who was killed in a battle in Karbala in 680 CE.CE stands for Caliphate Era. No one went into the city for four days.

Shite Muslims celebrate by performing passion plays, express grief in public and walk in parades through city streets where they carry a sarcophagus and whip their backs or foreheads with sticks, chains and swords. Many travel to Karbala in Iraq for pilgrimage. The 10th day of the mourning is Ashoura, the day Hussein was martyred and is the holiest day for Shite Muslims, the significance being that when Husayn was killed, the hope that Ali’s descendants would lead the Muslim world was crushed. The defining moment of the Shite/Sunni split.

Ashoura is often mark by men self-fagellation.

This year the celebration saw an increase in violence against Shite pilgrims walking to Karbala for the celebration. On February 11, 12 people were killed and 40 were wounded in Baghad during bombings that targeted the pilgrims. On February 12, a suicide bomber detonated an explosive belt packed with nails among Shiite worshippers in Karbala near the revered Imam Hussein shrine, killing eight pilgrims and wounding more than 50. And in the deadliest attack a female suicide bomber detonated herself in a tent that is set up along the route to Karbala to offer, food, drink and place to rest to the pilgrims. 40 people died and six were injured, mainly women and children.

A man carrying his injured child wrapped in a red and yellow blanket, screamed at onlookers: “What is my son’s fault? What did he do? What kind of belief system do these people have? Are they monsters?” Associated Press 02/13/09.

Last night I was in the middle of my workout, plodding along on the treadmill, when the gentleman who I was sharing the gym with stopped what he was doing and went to the door and listened.
“What is it?” I asked. “The IDF alarm, I think,” he replied. No one seemed to be responding to it, there was no flurry of activity, no running towards bunkers, nothing really. “Should I drop to the ground?” I asked. He smiled at me and said, “No.” He had been a Sergeant Major in the Welsh Guard, they have an infantry, but they are also charged with guarding Buckingham Palace and the queen. I figured he knew what he was talking about so I continued to exercise.

“How come no one responded I asked him. He told me that as soon as an IDF leaves the ground or is shot it’s detected and it can land anywhere on the base. “People don’t normally react until they hear the crash,” he told me. “If we would have heard a crash then you would have seen some activity.” He also told me that if its headed for you it’s hard to avoid. “So if it had hit here, on the gym we would have been pretty much toast?” “Yep,” he replied.

Everyone keeps talking about the Phelps bong photo and everyone has opinion that they think matters, the truth is, that there are only four groups opinions who matter in all of this and they are:

1. The governing body for US swimmers

2.  The U.S. Olympic Committee

3. The International Olympic Committee

4. Phelp’s fellow elite athletes.

I assure you they are not debating whether Phelps was right or wrong, whether he is being unfairly portrayed by the media or how just his punishment is or was.

The question they are asking themselves is “What other illegal substances has he been using?”  And that is the crux of the matter.

Lately in the morning they are testing what sounds like the Phalanx Weapon’s Systems. It sounds like rapid machine gun fire and it’s very disconcerting, it sort of gives you shivers up your spine.

Things continue fairly routinely, currently we have a couple of guests, Christina and Heba from IJMA we contract with them to do computer labs. Yesterday we had brunch as usual.

Started working on getting my recipes in order.

So far there have been no emergencies, but we have had several tests of the emergency systems. A voice comes over the loudspeaker and we all sit in the office trying to make out what it’s saying. Yesterday all I could make out was “Blah, blah, blah, breaking fire, blah, blah, blah, blah, breaking fire, blah, blah, blah, blah.” So I’m worried if there is a real emergency we are all going to be either working in our trailer or sitting in our hootches and because we can understand a word that is said, we are not going to take the appropriate action.

It doesn’t seem to be very helpful to have an emergency system that no one can understand. Oh well, welcome to Iraq.

Well I spent the last day and a half in bed, with Saddam’s Revenge, think Montazuma’s Revenge, but in Iraq. The type where it feels like someone is knifing you in the stomach. So in our hootches, because they are living quarters when you stay in there it is very dark, the door windows are completely covered over and the window, window is beveled so you can’t see through it.

Last night a huge windstorm started and is still going, the wind cracks the metal of the trailers and a couple of times last night is sounded like a trailer was being swept up into the wind, in a Wizard of Oz like fashion.

Today there is a thin layer of dust on everything and I haven’t eaten anything, but a banana, several crackers and some Sprite in the last 36 hours.

The sky is a muddy grey color and it sounds like someone is walking on top of the office.

So I’ve been making my way through the Fifth Season of Angel and last night I watched the funniest episode — Smile Time. It was about the producer of a kid’s TV show who made a deal with the devil to increase his ratings and the show was run by evil puppets, but when Angel, (for those of you not familiar with Angel, he got his start on Buffy the Vampire Slayer, as the Vampire with the soul, so he is good not evil) went to investigate he was turned into a puppet. It was so funny. Particularly the fight scenes with Spike. I’m still laughing this morning. It was on Disc 5 of Season 5, hilariously. Tom if your reading this you need to see it.

So other than that I’ve been faithfully working out and have started to get to know some of the Brits that come to the gym at the same time I do, mainly Will, Russ and Markus.

The good news is that the sacred frog pillowcase was returned. Unfortunately it smelled like smoke so I had to put it in the laundry again, but at least it is back.