Two Camps In Iraq

Another shot of the Crossed Swords. Last one, I promise.

I got involved in a discussion the other day with one of the correspondents about her views of the state-of-play here in Iraq. She divides the country's political landscape into two camps; those of the pragmatist and the ideologues.

The pragmatists, Iraqi President Maliki being one, realize that the U.S (Coalition) presence is necessary to provide stability to a very volatile society. The Americans are not the "occupying force" that the other camp would have one believe, but are trying desperately to get Iraq to be able to stand on it's own two feet, albeit for selfish reasons.

The ideologues, on the other hand, are quite willing to watch Iraq burn so long as there are no American or foreign forces "occupying" the land. They represent the radical Islamists that would rather sacrifice their country and their lives, or more over the lives of their followers, than tolerate the presence of a foreign culture on their land.

This is the fight that is waging within Iraq today as it struggles with the status of forces agreement that is necessary to give U.S. forces legitimacy in Iraq in the coming year(s). It has been primarily a political struggle, one which Maliki has demonstrated a great amount of deftness. At times the struggle has turned violent as the ideologues use their greatest weapons to influence the public's opinion. So far it's not looking good for the pragmatists as they continue to use political slight of hand and resorted to putting the decision to a public referendum in the coming months, a public that is heavily sided with the ideologues.

Once More Unto The Breach

The sun rises out of the Jordanian desert.

Back on the road again. I flew from New York (JFK) to Amman the other day on Royal Jordanian Airlines, an airline that I've taken before and like very much. Nonetheless the boarding gate at JFK was a scene of great amusement. As soon as the agent announced the boarding of the flight there was a bum-rush of people stampeding for the air-bridge. The disorganized throng of humanity completely overwhelmed the single, unsuspecting gate agent who was pleading for everyone to form a nice and orderly single line. I laughed to myself and mumbled, "Yea, that's gonna happen".

My experience has been that a lot of cultures don't "do lines" very well, and the Arabs are certainly one of them. There is no sense of chivalry, order, or fairness, just a pushing match to get in front of the old lady in front of you. Politeness is weakness, as a friend of mine once noted of the Arab culture.

On another occasion I let my guard down and permitted an old man being pushed in a wheel chair to go in front of me at the Immigration check point. What I didn't see was his extended family behind him that was accompanying Grandpa. Daughters, nieces, cousins, close friends, and a few strap hangers all cut the line exclaiming, "We're with him". I felt used and my fellow passengers behind me were none too happy with my chivalry either. Lesson learned.

The Good Thanksgiving

Today is the American holiday Thanksgiving, the traditional day when its celebrants give thanks for the things that they have. The day is normally spent with family, enjoying a large meal, and watching football on the television. We've added another tradition in my family, one designed to pass on the spirit of the day to our almost 5-year old son. Today is the day when he goes through all of his toys and packs up those that he no longer uses to ship off to Goodwill, a charity organization for those who are in greater need.

Five year old boys aren't very keen on parting with their things so its a struggle to get him to put his past treasures in a box to send off to someone else. The struggle is the learning processes here, the realization that someone else in the world isn't lucky enough to have an Optimus Prime robot, and that the plastic toy may bring some other little boy as much joy as it did him. Before long the spirit of the exercise takes hold and my son enthusiastically scours the house for things to give away. It's a good Thanksgiving.

Random Thoughts From Of Caracas

A Stormy Caracas skyline

Just back from Venezuela. I forgot the interface cable to my camera so I wasn't able to post anything while I was there. Thoughts and observations on Venezuela:

• The entire country has no concept of personal service. The Bolivarian revolution has bread a generation of workers that believe they're fully entitled and thus have no motivation to provide a quality product or service. They get paid one way or the other.

• While Hugo Chavez rants about empowering the poor, the Presidential Palace is surrounded by his homeless countrymen (and women) sleeping in cardboard boxes on the streets.

• While a complete loon, President Chavez is by far the most entertaining head of state there is. His multi-hour press conferences are just one long entertaining stream of consciousness that often delve into song, comedy and poetry.

• The Caracas skyline is marked by tall concrete buildings that now provide housing for the poor; sort of sky-rise slums.

• The Venezuelan military is probably the finest looking military I've ever seen. Soldiers, weapons, and equipment all maintained to a very high standard. As an ex-soldier I couldn't help but be impressed.

• At pennies for a gallon of gas Venezuela has the largest collection of 1970's massive V8 sedans that I've ever seen. It's not uncommon to see a Buick Riviera taxi cab.

• Motorbikes are everywhere, helmets are required. People wear bicycle helmets as they speed in and out of highway traffic at breakneck speeds. I have to imagine that motorcycle-related death is the leading cause of mortality in Venezuela.

• Venezuela has contributed more Miss Universes than any other county. That's the national trivia question asked by every taxi cab driver.

• The Latin diet will not get an endorsement from the American Heart Association.

• The parks are full of runners, cyclists, and bladers. Something that was unheard of 10-15 years ago.

• The Wonder Bra company must certainly be based in Venezuela.

What A Great Job

I've been away for a bit, taking an Emergency Medicine course in Indiana. At one point I found myself doing an ambulance ride along one night with an EMT and a Paramedic. We got called to the home of a woman who had suffered some sort of cerebral event and had fallen down a small flight of stairs and now could not move. Her 20-something year old daughter called 911, and we soon arrived with flashing lights, boxes of medications, monitors, oxygen tanks, and an assortment of other cool gadgets.

I took a moment and looked into the daughter's eyes and recognized absolute terror as her mother lay helpless on the floor. The young girl was panicked, wanting to do anything and everything to help her stricken mother, but was unable to do anything. Once the paramedic began his care I watched the weight of the world lift from the frightened daughter. She was still visibly nervous but finally help had arrived and a wave of relief swept over her face.

In 24 hours the paramedic and the EMT won't even remember the call to this woman's home, it being subsumed by dozens of other recent and similar calls. The daughter, on the other hand, will never forget it for as long as she lives. It's amazing to have that affect on the lives of random people. What a great job.

Out Of Synch

Sarong-clad Malaysians in a workers camp in Iraq

I spent my formative years as a basketball player, a single sport guy, playing "ball" almost year around. Every year the season started for me generally in mid-October, and I normally entered the season in dismal physical shape and endured the pain of conditioning as best as I could. The result of that experience has been to imprint on my psyche a yearly physical conditioning clock.

I stopped playing basketball after college but every year from about late July through August I sub-consciously suspend or drastically curtail my physical conditioning program. By about mid-October my conditioning clock kicks in and I'm back at it again, albeit in pretty sad shape. Each year the slide is more and more dramatic.

I can't seem to adjust this imprinted pattern and the result has been that I'm in fantastic shape by January or February, about three months early for triathlon season. It drives me nuts and I can't seem to push the pattern to the right a couple of months. While the rest of the triathlon world is eating sugar cookies at Christmas I'm in the pool or on my bike, peaking way to early. Maybe I should move to the southern hemisphere.

21st Century Library

The Maine coast in Autumn

I love coffee shops. One of my great pleasures in life is to spend the day in a shop or bookstore with my laptop and a stack of books and just read. I once did an entire 18-month MBA degree from a table in a Miami Starbucks.

Currently I'm preparing for an upcoming paramedic course; reading up on EKG rhythms, drug dosages, and anatomy/physiology. It's the perfect environment to study, the 21st century library.

Going Home

When I was younger I realized the meaning of the phrase, "You can never go home". In other words, things continue to change even while you're away and will never truly be the same again. It saddened me greatly as a young adolescent to come to that realization because I considered my "home" to be a rather magical place.

This past week I traveled back to Maine and spent time with both my family and a the myriad of memories that I still have. I was assaulted with smells, sights and sounds, rushing the past to the very forefront of my mind; piles of Autumn leaves, cool breezes through the birch trees, my mother's apple dumplings, each triggering a flood of memories that were like old friends who have not changed at all.

All of this made me re-think my paradigm of never going home, and I came to the comforting realization that you never really leave.

Stop!

In my final days in Baghdad I came up with a test, one that determines the civility of a country or culture. It's the Four-Way Intersection test. If the country you are driving in can successfully manage a four-way intersection without lights, traffic cops, automatic weapons, or armored vehicles; relying solely on stop signs and the drivers' sense of fair play, than you can rest assured that it is a civilized nation.

Clearly this is a bit tongue and cheek, but I've found that there are very few societies that can do this well. It depends on a certain level of politeness, empathy, sense of fair play, law abidedness; all attributes of "advanced" cultures and societies. Give it a whirl and let me know what you come up with.

Comedy at Dubai's International Airport

A dust-covered sun. My last day in Baghdad, waiting for the weather to clear.

Dubai's international airport is a collection point for security contractors traveling back to the UK or the States, and as such it's always great fun watching these guys pose for their fellow travelers. The terminal is replete with contractors swaggering around adorned in the latest Gucci tactical clothing, and weaving tales of danger and intrigue while waiting in line to board the plane back to the "Land of the Big PX". Just a five minute, unsolicited conversation with one of these guys and I've heard ever military acronym ever conceived, and some which I think he's making up on the fly. At this point I'm praying that I'm not talking to my future seat-mate for the 15-hour flight ahead of me. I don't think I could tolerate another "There I was, in the shit" story.

Fleeing Baghdad

I got stuck in yet another sandstorm while leaving Baghdad and had to spend the night at a logistics base near the airport terminal. The camp was populated by hundreds of sarong-wearing Malaysians, all squatting in small groups and offering a polite "hello sir" as the big, tall gringo passed by. For some reason the term "refugee camp" stuck in my head and and it made me laugh as the workers cooked their food, did their laundry and went about the myriad of daily tasks. Of course this wasn't a true refugee camp, but rather a workers' camp, but the similarities were not lost on me.

The weather cleared the next morning and I considered myself lucky to leave Baghdad on a beat-up 737 that was running, "inexplicably" four hours late. Tip from the top: don't even think about asking either the airport information desk or the airline personnel why the flight is delayed. To them it's not delayed if it takes off on the same day that it's scheduled to.

Babylon Buddhist

I had a run-in with one of our Iraqi staff yesterday. He lied to me. It wasn't even a good lie, and when I called him on it, he made up another one on the spot. I was furious and chose to walk away, informing his supervisor along the way.

I'm at the very end of my deployment and have no patience for this cultural tendency towards lying. I understand that the anger and rage that I felt was mine, and mine alone. I had to deal with it, accept it, chide my ego for entertaining it, and then just let it go. At times Iraq and the Arab culture can be a wonderful place for a Buddhist :)

Iraq Security- The Inverse Relationship

A camera and tripod stand ready for work

There is a misconception here in Iraq among both security operators and clients alike that as the security situation improves that less security is needed. In actuality it's the exact opposite. In the past mobility around the country for many clients has been severely limited or curtailed due to the overwhelming threat of kidnapping, IEDs, VBIEDs, etc.. Unless clients were accompanied by the U.S. military or a small armada of gunned-up PSDs they were not inclined to venture too far for too often.

Now the security environment in Iraq is better, the threat has diminished a bit, albeit there are still bad people doing bad things to clients and their friends. Mobility has increased and as a result clients want to get out of the confines of the safe areas and venture forth to explore and do their jobs. The result is that the security elements are now busier than ever, ensuring the safety and well-being of the clients, coordinating movements, planning logistics, training, and providing close protection. In military parlance, the OPTEMPO has increased dramatically taxing the capabilities of many security details. To evidence this, quality armored cars are nearly impossible to lease in Baghdad right now as they have been snatched up by details that are suddenly far more busy than before moving clients here, there, and everywhere. Some companies are adding several security teams to cover new clients that have suddenly emerged from the ashes and want to move around the country. As this inverse relationship continues it's a busy time for the working security details, much more so than most have anticipated.

Conspiracy Theorists

The most recognizable landmark in Baghdad, the famous "Crossed Swords". People come from all over to be photographed under the swords.

Explaining the American presidential election process to our Iraqi staff is always an entertaining challenge. They cannot accept the fact that everyone gets only one vote. Iraqis understand that Americans go to the polls and vote, but they have it in their collective head that in the end, a "group of powerful Israel-supporting senators" will have the ultimate say and choose the candidate that it wants; in this case John McCain. It's telling of their culture and political process.

There is no greater conspiracy theorist than the Iraqi man on the street. Over the years I've heard some outlandish claims such as Iraqi dust storms are purposely caused by nuclear explosions somewhere in the world, or the American tethered radio antennae balloons that dot the Baghdad horizon are armed with powerful cameras and Hellfire missiles constantly searching for miscreants. Iraqis love to believe the outrageous; the bigger the story the more conviction they have that it's true. Weaving some tale that would even make Hollywood blush makes an Iraqi appear powerful and knowledgeable to his family and friends. No one ever calls "bullshit' as that would be a slap in the face, so the stories just keep getting bigger and better.

Red Flags

If you work in security long enough with various clients and other operators you will inevitably hear the two phrases that cause me the greatest grief; "We've done it before", and "That's the way we've always done it". Whenever I hear one or both of those my bullshit meter begins to peg and I know that there is something wrong. Let me be perfectly clear, just because you've "done it before" and no one had gotten killed, maimed, or kidnapped does not make it safe, in fact it's probably just the opposite. Repeatedly doing something that is intrinsically wrong does not make it right. If as a security provider you accept those statements as valid arguments than you are negligent at a minimum or probably worse. As an example, just because you had a few drinks at a party and somehow managed to drive yourself home once or twice, does that make it right? Does that somehow make it safe to do in the future?

Early Morning Baghdad

Baghdad is having a bad morning today. As I sit here watching the sun rise in the eastern sky working on my first cup of coffee there have been several near-by explosions, punctuating the post-dawn stillness. Smoke rises in the distance somewhere between the buildings, marking the location of the carnage. Out there amid the cityscape someone has lost a husband or a daughter, a young girl walking to school or a man heading out to work. They will not be coming home tonight; all that knew them, their lives have been violently changed forever. I continue to work on my coffee pretending to be stoic, part of me trying in vain to empathize, another part thankful that I cannot.

Foreign Frustrations

An Iraqi worker rolls an electrical wire at the rail yard

My limit is about eight weeks. That's when the phenomenon of culture shock sets in and I notice changes in my personality. Anyone who has spent a significant amount of time in a foreign culture knows the feeling; you become short tempered, easily irritated by the "foreign-ness" around you, some may become vindictive or even lean toward outright racism. It's not a pleasant feeling but one of reality that many including myself often have to deal with.

I'm always amused by the tourists of the world who show up, take some pictures, have a ethnic meal or two, and begin to rave about how sweet and kind the local people are. "Why can't we all be so kind, loving, and helpful?" Yea? Spend eight weeks living among your kind and loving new friends and we'll see what you think then! I guarantee that you'll be restraining yourself daily from violence.

If forced to remain in the culture this "shock" eventually dissipates and is replaced by acceptance. That is if you're not in a local jail for running over a little old lady with an SUV.

Which Language To Speak?

I'm terrible with languages. It took the military over a year to pound Spanish into my head at the Defense Language Institute, and I've been working diligently on Japanese for many years as well. I barely have a grasp of English. Yesterday I was confronted with the question of which is the best language for a international bodyguard/executive protection agent/security consultant to learn. I believe the answer to be, none of them, and all of them. How's that for a zen koan?

I contend that it would be best to learn a smattering of several different languages instead of trying to wrap your head around just one. When you consider it, how much of your native language do you really use on a day-to-day basis? Studies have shown that people rarely use more than 3000 words, and generally could get by with as little as 500 or so. Thus my advice would be to take five or six languages and work on them simultaneously. I realize that this is heresy to some, but for someone that is going to travel extensively I believe that it has great utility. Things to work on would be:

• Key phrases
• Interrogatives (Who, What, Where, When, How)
• 10-15 verbs with a basic understanding of tenses
• Courtesies (Please, Thank you, Excuse me, I'm sorry...)
• 500+ word vocabulary

Having said that, what would be the languages of choice? Although they are highly debatable, my list would be:

• English
• Spanish
• Arabic
• German
• Russian
• Japanese or Chinese

Spanish will get you close to French, Italian and Portuguese. I believe Arabic has more utility than Farsi. Japanese and Chinese are a toss up, but I don't know many guys doing security work for the Chinese, while there is a lot of work for Japanese clients.

Once you have an understanding of 5-6 languages at an extremely basic level then adding additional languages is fairly straight forward, as is augmenting any one of them with greater skills and capabilities.

Pay It Forward- Karma

A rusted chain sits in an open Iraqi railway car

I often receive emails from guys that are looking to begin working as protectors, or others that are curious about Zen, or if they should join Special Forces or not. I make an honest and dedicated effort to answer all of their questions and concerns from my little point of view. I caution them that their mileage may vary, and ask them to one day pass the favor on to someone else.

After I hit the "send" button I find myself crafting emails to others, people that I have great respect for and are at the peak of the mountain that I wish to climb. Most of these lately are accomplished physicians who unselfishly impart their wit, wisdom and experience onto me, guiding my decisions, answering my questions, giving me opinions from their points of view. They also caution me about my mileage and I promise them that I will pass on the favor to others. It's karma. That's how it works.

My Head Hurts

I treat a lot of headaches. That seems to be the chief complaint of our local Iraqi staff, but they describe it in such debilitating terms that it often makes me suspicious. A a single aspirin or Tylenol later and they're good as new, generally within ten minutes, which is surprising as the absorption rate is closer to fifteen minutes.

Today was a sprained knee, so bad that the staff member said, wincing and moaning, that he couldn't walk. I told him to ice it; a half an hour later he's running around with no signs of injury. It's a miracle!!

The truth is that I found many Iraqis to be attention seeking. All they want is someone to listen to their near-death complaint, give them something that looks like medicine and they're merrily on their way. I'm not sure what the cultural reason is for this. If it were my 4-year old I'd say that he's trying to get out of school. At least it worked for me a time or two when I was younger. I don't believe the staff is trying to dodge work, because they're happily back at it again once they've been pulled back from the bright light and resuscitated. I think that I'm going to teach my Iraqi security operators how to initiate IV therapy. Ya got a headache? Ya need an IV!! At least my guys can get some good training out of it.