July 15, 2008

Goodbye

I first saw the apple exactly five years ago this month.

It was silver and spectacular, more than 200 years old and perhaps the finest piece of Iraqi metalwork I've seen outside a museum. About the size of a small cantaloupe, the apple opened to reveal a set of miniature cups where the core should have been. The owner, my longtime friend and carpet merchant Abu Zeinab, told me the apple was used as a portable "bar" --- he said old Baghdadis fashioned such clever carrying cases for their arak, the anise liquor that is popular throughout the Middle East.

I fell hard for the apple that day in 2003, but the price tag was steep and my first priority was buying Persian carpets and Kurdish kilims for my family. Abu Zeinab lovingly wrapped the apple in a polishing cloth and locked it away, promising to keep it aside for me. It became our long-running joke that I would buy the apple on "my last day in Baghdad."

My stint as Baghdad bureau chief ended in late 2005, when I moved to Cairo to open a new regional bureau. Abu Zeinab and his three beautiful daughters came to say goodbye, yet I still didn't splurge on the apple. The time just didn't feel right.

Abu Zeinab's assistant, Waleed, called me in Cairo from time to time, nearly always with grim news from Baghdad. One time it was insurgents executing shopkeepers from the copper market, where Abu Zeinab's fourth-generation antiques store is located. Another time it was militiamen extorting money to prevent the looting of these treasure troves that hold what's called baghdadiyat, Iraqi folklore and artifacts.

At the height of the sectarian violence, Abu Zeinab took the apple and a few of his other most precious wares and hid them under his mattress at home. His shop was shuttered for months. Abu Zeinab, a proud bazaari with a shop crammed with thousands of dollars in rare and magnificent antiques, was forced to become a taxi driver to feed his family.

It was a good move that I didn't buy the apple in 2005 -- I found myself back in Iraq within a year. I have made short, frequent trips ever since, mostly to fill in when our hardworking Baghdad bureau chief takes her two-week leaves. On nearly every trip, I call Abu Zeinab or his assistant. But the days of spending hours listening to stories and sipping dried-lime tea with them were long gone.

I was in Iraq again last week to hold down the fort while Leila (the bureau chief) was away. But this time felt different, perhaps even final. I'm about to begin a one-year leave of absence to study in the States, I just got engaged, and I'm not sure where Baghdad fits into my future, given all the personal upheaval as well as the precarious state of the newspaper industry. I asked my dear Iraqi friend Shatha, whose taste in baghdadiyat is unmatched, to call Abu Zeinab and let him know it was time for the apple.

It was still too dangerous to travel to the copper market, so Abu Zeinab sent his assistant to our hotel with huge black trash bags filled with intricately patterned carpets, silk scarves and silver ornaments. I waited as the carpets were unfurled, the designs touted, the colors praised. I had only one purchase in mind that day: literally, the apple of my eye.

Finally, Shatha broke the news: Abu Zeinab didn't think I was coming back to Iraq and he'd sold the apple to another foreigner last year. None of them had had the heart to tell me. With a flourish, the assistant produced Ottoman seals and Persian filigreed silver to ease the blow. He gave me a beautiful gift: a 180-year-old canister with the silversmith's signature and the date etched into the bottom. The assistant promised he'd search high and low for a similar apple from that era, but I wasn't interested.

I glanced at Shatha, who still looked sheepish over her little white lie about the apple's whereabouts. We began to laugh and to remember how we once had dreams of buying villas side-by-side in Baghdad. We planned to stuff them with museum-worthy baghdadiyat, teach our daughters to make dried-lime tea and hold summer cookouts in the neighborhood. In 2003, those dreams didn't sound as far-fetched as today.

In her usual graceful, soothing manner, Shatha told me the apple saga offers two lessons.

The first is that you should never wait to pursue something you love. The second, she said with a grin, is that I'll never have "a last day in Baghdad."

To all the readers and contributors, thanks so much for helping to create this forum. Thank you to my editors for the space and the Web desk for the support and tips. And, most of all, thank you to all the colorful, fascinating, courageous characters whose stories filled hundreds of notebooks.

This blog will be disabled for the time being, but I hope it's back in some form once I return from the fellowship. See you in a year, inshallah!

Salaam.

June 29, 2008

Iraq kitsch

Five years into the war, business is still booming for the producers of cheesy Iraq souvenirs. In addition to kiosks on US bases or at the Baghdad airport, dozens of Web sites have sprung up to hawk Iraqi kitsch.

It should be noted that few Iraqis actually buy the stuff; customers are mainly private security contractors, U.S. soldiers, American government employees and foreign journalists or aid workers.

You can still buy those played-out "Who's your Baghdaddy?" T-shirts or a cheap watch emblazoned with Saddam Hussein's mustachioed face. The "I (heart) Sadr City" bumper stickers are newer. There are also beach towels printed with the English-Arabic message typically found on the back end of a security convoy: "Caution! Stay 100 m back or you will be shot!"

Non-regulation sew-on patches come with all kinds of slogans: "American League Infidel Death Angel," "Al Qaeda Hunting Club," "Holy war? Holy Sh--!" and, of course, "Mission Accomplished." Maybe for Christmas, I'll present my editors with the patch featuring the South Park character Kyle looking glum under the words, "You sent me to Iraq you bastards!" (Dear editors: only joking.)

You can golf in polo shirts from the mythical "Baghdad Country Club" or fight the sun with a baseball cap printed with the insignia of the Iraqi Railroad. On mild autumn days, you can sport a long-sleeve T-shirt that describes the Green Zone as "the ultimate gated community."

In March, the AP published a story about a cardboard shrine dedicated to Chuck Norris at a base in Anbar Province. The makeshift shrine reportedly describes the Hollywood action star as "the only WMD in Iraq" and says Norris "puts the 'laughter' in manslaughter." Countless troops have snapped photos of themselves posing by the shrine. There must be T-shirts out there somewhere as well.

Today, I was standing in line to be searched to enter the Green Zone when the Filipino contractor ahead of me turned around. He was wearing a black T-shirt with the words, "You stay classy, Iraq!" next to the face of Ron Burgundy, the insufferable-yet-endearing anchorman played by Will Ferrell.

I'd never seen that particular design, so when I got back to the hotel, I did a quick online search to see what else was new in the war souvenir industry. The Ron Burgundy T-shirt (with several variations) appeared to be popular. I grabbed the photo above from the blog of an Iraq veteran; I confess I've never personally seen Ron Burgundy stenciled on the side of a Humvee.

One Web site sells a "You stay classy, Iraq" shirt for $18, but with Saddam Hussein's face instead of Will Ferrell's. Here's how the vendor touts it: "This t-shirt reminds us all that this brutal minority dictator may have had a few Shi'ite days, but his final message urged everyone to look on the Sunni side of life."

June 28, 2008

Status updates

If my day in Baghdad were described through Facebook status updates:

Hannah Allam is...

...wondering why the U.S. military isn't commenting on the Karbala raid. 16 hours ago

...proud of Iraqi staffers for scrambling on raid story, despite no military comment. 14 hours ago

...dreaming of grocery shopping without having to switch cars to foil kidnappers. 6 hours ago

...thinking even hell isn't this hot. 12m ago

...ecstatic that, for once, Abu Sajjad didn't make lamb for lunch. 6 hours ago

...swimming with her Iraqi colleagues, hijabs and all. 3 hours ago

...ticked off that Iraqi officials don't keep their phone interview appointments. 15m ago

...talking to a military spokesman who says there is "no information to release" on raid. 3m ago

...suspecting Special Forces were involved in the raid, hence no military comment. 2m ago

...loving this new split-unit air conditioner! 3 hours ago

...watching Season Two of House M.D. about an hour ago

...fast-forwarding to where she was in the House episode when the electricity went off. 30m ago

...in an online forum for gun enthusiasts to determine difference between a PKC and a BKC. 2m ago

...diappointed to see that the hours-long gas lines are back. 52m ago

...happy we saw that six-vehicle private security convoy in time. 10 hours ago

...sickened that a 25-corpse mass grave was unearthed today. 4 hours ago

...sad for the family in Pago Pago, Samoa, that lost Lt. Col. Max Galeai, KIA in Anbar. 5 hours ago   

...hoping this sandstorm doesn't shut down the airport. 5m ago

...glad she isn't bureau chief and wishes Leila were here. 2 hours ago

...receiving angry text messages about not checking in with her family. 15m ago

...wishing she had even an ounce of the resilience of Iraqis. about a minute ago 

June 27, 2008

Iraq outtakes

Some behind-the-scenes anecdotes from this week in Iraq:

If Iraqis could vote...
Obama is popular among our Iraqi staff members, many of whom now forgo high-fives for the Barack-Michelle knuckle knock. However, Arabic-language channels made a big deal out of the Obama campaign asking two Muslim supporters not to sit behind the presidential candidate so their headscarves wouldn't appear on TV. There's also been lots of footage here of Obama reassuring AIPAC that all of Jerusalem belongs to Israel, which didn't go over so well, either.

Our drivers feel betrayed. The other day we were chatting after lunch and one of them asked me whether it was true Obama was Muslim. No, I told him, he's a Christian but has some Muslim forefathers. Another asked me why he moved the Muslim women, and I explained that campaign workers were behind the gaffe and that Obama had apologized for the incident. Abu Zahraa said he still supports Obama, reasoning that his Muslim ancestry might make him more sympathetic to the plight of Iraqis and Palestinians. Abu Feisal said the AIPAC speech had turned him off Obama, but that he would still vote for Obama over McCain because: "I just like his black face. It's close to us. He is not so different."

I then conducted a little poll: "If you could vote in U.S. elections, who would you pick for president?"
Our office manager's answer had us all laughing: "If I was an American, I would vote for Obama. But if I was Iraqi and could vote in U.S. elections, I would vote for McCain....because maybe he'll finish the s--- they started here!" But the zinger came from our British security adviser, who was also in the lunchroom: "If I were American, eh? I'd emigrate to England!"

"The biggest agent in the world"
One of my female Iraqi colleagues, the office sweetheart, is always asking for more adventurous assignments than polling parliament members about the status of forces agreement. The US military invited McClatchy on a day trip to Taji yesterday and I thought it might be nice to take along my Iraqi colleague for her very first helicopter ride. You have to understand: Iraqis seen associating with the US military, even (and sometimes especially) in a media capacity, can be marked for death by militants who view them as traitors and collaborators. Iraqis who work with Americans take great pains to shield their identities and jobs, which is why my colleague's name isn't mentioned here.

So, we set off for the helicopter landing pad in the Green Zone. It's next to a parking lot filled with dozens and dozens of the huge, menacing SUVs used by security contractors such as Blackwater. My Iraqi colleague's eyes grew big: "I've never seen them still like this. Only moving so, so fast in the streets!" We boarded the helicopter (after a brief struggle to put in her ear plugs under her hijab) and were strapped in. The rotors kicked dust in our faces, but we were too giddy to notice. This was her first helo ride, and probably my last for a long time.

We rose above Baghdad and my colleague had a big smile plastered on her face as she absorbed her first aerial view of her hometown's mosques, mazes of sand-colored villas, impossibly green palm groves, tidy squares of farmland and -- best of all -- the sparkling Tigris. We touched down in Taji, peeled off our body armor and toured a mechanics' workshop where laborers were refurbishing old U.S. Humvees for Iraqi use. I snapped a couple of pics of my colleague posing near the Humvees. ("It's the first time I've ever touched one!" she said.) Then we settled in for a joint US-Iraqi military ceremony in which we were seated directly behind Gen. David Petraeus, the commander of US forces in Iraq. I snapped a couple more souvenir pics, then we mostly baked in the 104-degree sun and interviewed some Iraqi and US officers.

At one point, my colleague and I flipped through the photos on my camera from earlier that day. There she was: striking a pose in her body armor, smiling in a US military helicopter, peeking through the bulletproof window of a Humvee, looking poised behind the top American general in Iraq. She gasped. "Just send them directly to the Sadr office!" she said, jokingly. "My God, I am the biggest agent in the world!"

Move over, South Beach Diet
McClatchy has another visiting American reporter here, a veteran California-based journalist named Buck Tharp, who proudly wears a T-shirt that reads, "Old Guys Rock," and is wildly popular among the Iraqi staff. Buck has been on a military embed in Kirkuk for several days. He's had to make treks in the midday sun, go without laundry service and endure many other less-than-fun aspects of embedded life.

Today, he emailed me an update that said he lost 4 kilos walking around remote bases in the sweltering heat. In typical Buck fashion, he added: "Dig it!" I wrote back that I'd lost 2 kilos in Taji alone and suggested we quit journalism and market the Iraq Extreme Diet. His reply pointed out the unfortunate acronym that probably would doom our fledgling diet business: IED.

Back to the drawing board...   

June 24, 2008

An Iraqi with Blackwater

Yesterday afternoon I was interviewing a young Iraqi man for a story when he disclosed that he'd worked for Blackwater, the notorious U.S. private security firm that protects diplomats and senior officials in Iraq and other conflict zones. Blackwater has come under scrutiny for its involvement in a string of high-profile shooting deaths of Iraqi civilians.

I'd never met an Iraqi mercenary who worked for Blackwater, so we veered off-topic and I asked him about what it was like to work for a firm that is so widely despised by Iraqis. He agreed to describe his experiences as long as I didn't use his real name or give the exact dates of his employment. He didn't fear retribution from the company -- he just thought it might hurt his chances if he ever decided to seek employment with Blackwater again.

I have no way of verifying certain details of his account, but here's what he had to say:

"As a person who worked for Blackwater, I can tell you that these teams are different from the last teams. Maybe the new teams are not being told how to deal with the people. After the problems in Nisour Square, managers said this team must be changed. They brought in the new team and the new team ran over at least two people in a car. Or maybe it was four, I can't remember. Yes, I think it was four. They just ran over them on the street. Have you seen how big their vehicles are? They gave the families compensation. No media ever reported on this incident.

"I was on the best team, Mamba Team. Do you know mamba? The snake, black mamba. We had no problems with our team. We were on the cowboys team! (Laughs.) But we never went on special missions. They would never take an Iraqi on special mission, that was for the US embassy team.

"It was not only Americans at Blackwater. There was one Australian, one South African. There were also some from Chile and Colombia, but they weren't allowed on the teams -- they were guards. In Baghdad, there were three teams: the US embassy team, Mamba and the Airport Team. The US embassy team was the biggest. Blackwater was also out of Baghdad, in Basra, Najaf, Erbil and Hillah. In Erbil, they were protecting IRI (International Republican Institute). The IRI manager was named Rich, a very nice guy.

"Sometimes, people from Blackwater were killed. There was a Mexican, he got killed on airport road. His contract had finished and he just wanted to go home to his family. He was a very good man. He was never afraid to clash with terrorists. When the terrorists attacked them on airport road, he remained with the last car to cover for the others. He told them, 'Go, go.' He fought alone and he was killed. He could carry a PKC in one hand! He was so strong. Blackwater had a (memorial service) for him. It was sad. And you know Blackwater, they had to drink. You know, they aren't afraid of anything, of any terrorist. They see themselves as tough guys.

"Another time, two Blackwater vehicles were under siege in Tikrit for maybe two weeks before they could get out. They had huge Lincolns full of ammunition. They were fighting and fighting and when they came back from Tikrit...(starts to laugh)...they had paint on their faces like they were Special Forces!

"Now, the teams have changed, though. You understand? I mean, for better, not worse."