A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To The Airport

I'm back safe and sound in my home sweet crappy home in Basra ... "the 'Rah" if you're talking to my friend Rinn from our Seattle office, or as it was recently christened by my housemate Ali, the Sawlty Tower (you know ... because of the water).

Boy is it a trip to fly out of Baghdad. Or just to get to the airport to fly out of Baghdad. At least they're doing their due diligence where security's concerned. The trek goes a little something like this:

1. Depending on the time of your departure, fight traffic to get to the airport.
2. Go through three ID checkpoints manned by heavily armed Iraqi soldiers.
3. Stop in a line of cars. Get out, open all the doors, the trunk, and pop the hood. Stand aside while a security guard walks a dog around to sniff for explosives.
4. Get back in the car. Stop at a set of trailers (one for men, one for women) where your luggage is searched. Get back in the car.
5. Drive up to the departure terminal. Go for a long walk to a big cement tunnel and follow the instructions of two security guards to drop all your belongings on the ground with a bunch of other people's belongings.
6. Leave your belongings out of your sight and exit the tunnel to get a pat-down. If you're a man, stand out in the open for your search; if you're a woman, go into a tiny cloistered room.
7. When you get the go ahead, follow the throng of 40 people back to the cement tunnel and everybody scramble to grab their stuff at the same time.
8. Take another long walk to the Iraqi Airways ticket counter and get your handwritten, carbon-paper ticket stamped. What does that stamp mean? I don't know.
9. Walk through a checkpoint manned by Iraqi customs officials. Have your bag scanned. Get asked if you're Iraqi.
10. Get your handwritten boarding pass from the check-in counter. Pity the people next to you going to Tehran ... except you're going to Basra, so pity yourself equally, if not more.
11. Walk through a checkpoint manned by security staff. Get asked if you're Iraqi. Insist that the visa in your passport is sufficient to get you on a plane, and that no, you do not need to flash them your Department of Defense ID.
12. Flash DoD ID anyway.
13. Have your bag scanned.
14. Have your bag scanned.
15. Wait at the gate til they call your flight. Hope they didn't change the gate without telling anyone. Hope they actually call your flight. Out loud.
16. Have your bag scanned. Get asked if you're Iraqi.
17. Tell the guy behind the computer that no, that's not a bottle of wine in your bag ... it's bourbon. Take the bourbon out of your bag. Allow another guy to escort your booze onto the plane with you. Believe him when he says you can pick it up when you get to Basra.
18. Note that, aside from the flight attendants, you're the only woman on the plane. Also note that you're the only woman wearing a hijab, and you're not even Muslim.
19. Arrive in Basra. Deplane, return bottle of bourbon surreptitiously to your bag, and find the doors to the arrival terminal locked. Wait for someone to unlock them.
20. Be incredibly surprised that you're standing outside on a tarmac and you're not sweating. When did this happen?
21. Get in the building and fill out a health card. Circle "no" to everything so nobody thinks you have Swine Flu.
22. Do "Are you Iraqi?"/passport scan/visa/DoD routine with immigration guy.
23. Show passport to some guy who writes your name down on a sheet. Because apparently it didn't go in the computer during Step 22.
24. Get your bag scanned, and cross your fingers that you don't get hassled about the bourbon.
25. Thank yourself for wearing a hijab, because that surely helped with the bourbon.
26. Get home, take off your hijab, and pour yourself a double bourbon.

Blogging From Baghdad

It's been a while since my last post, so I figured it was time for an update (at least so everyone knows I'm still among the living). Things have been relatively quiet. I'm currently blogging from our Baghdad office, where I've been for the past ten days. It's been nice to get out of Basrah and have a change of scenery. The office here is run by four thirty-something female expats, and it's been great to have more estrogen in my surroundings ... and to watch them all at work, amazing and talented women running an operation in one of the world's most difficult and dangerous places.

I don't have photos to share since we have even less mobility here in Baghdad. The compound is lovely, with lush gardens and lots of classic, tall palms. I've enjoyed evenings spent sipping cocktails, enjoying a few beers over a game of Scrabble on the main house porch, a few rousing games of badminton, and cooking dinners with my colleagues (peach cobbler, anyone?).

The rest of the experience shall not be posted here, as it contains details of the variety you never tell your mother.

My work time has been spent developing some adjustments to our literacy program in the south, the daily operations of which I will now be in charge of managing. I'm looking forward to implementing some valuable changes and helping to strengthen the program.

That's it for now. Tickets to France on the 9th have been procured, where I'll be meeting Mom and Dad for a lot of wine and sightseeing.