It finally sprang

It looks like spring is here for real. We’re now here on Day Four of straight sunshine here in Kurdistan and it’s flipping gorgeous outside.

Sen. Duckworth, me and a bunch of other people.

Yesterday, we opened a new community center for hanging out. It’s a refurbished house and it’s got a couple game rooms, an exercise room, a big room and a nice rooftop area to chill. We had a big party to open it, complete with a BBQ. The head military guy here spent all week smoking pig and cow. It was fantastic. I tried to go back for more brisket, but it was gone.

Other than that, it’s just been another dull weekend. I’m working more than I did last time I was here because in addition to main gig, because I’m on three other projects at the same time. As a result, I’ve been in the office more over the weekends that I did when I was here before.

But like last time, I made it outside! I was able to do one of the grocery runs yesterday, which was cool. It’s the third store I’ve been to here. The one I went to first last time was sort of run down, but the other two were pretty modern, although yesterday, the power blipped about three times while we were in there.

That happens a lot, on a daily basis. It’s one of the reasons I tend to stick to the ellipticals here and not the treadmills. When the power cuts off, those things stop abruptly. That could be painful.

Next week, which begins on Sunday for me, might be a tad slower. Since the day I arrived, we’ve had back-to-back-to-back “visits,” which is what we call it when high-maintenance people come through. Well, the people aren’t high-maintenance in themselves, but the whole situation gets complicated because logistically, every minute of the “visit” is prescribed. (Even “comfort breaks.”)

One of the visits involved two disabled senators, Sen. Tammy Duckworth (D-IL) and Sen. John Isakson (R-GA), plus Sen. Angus King, an Independent, from Maine. Erbil is not a disabled-friendly place, but they weren’t here all that long.

Read Duckworth’s bio. She’s got a phenomenal background, and her visit here was the first time she’s returned to Iraq since she was shot down and lost her legs. Part of her trip was to visit the site where she went down. The women at the consulate had a photo op with her, but we didn’t get time for anything more.

I also did the little constituent meeting with Isakson because we don’t have a lot of people from Georgia. He went around the room – about eight people – and asked where people were from. At my turn, I explained that both my parents were from Louisiana but when Daddy graduated from college, he got a job in Attapulgus, GA and the closest city with a school was Tallahassee. I told him I’d understand if he threw me out, but he let me stay. He said he’d been to a wedding in Attapulgus and told the others present, who were mostly from little tiny towns, that their little tiny towns looked like Atlanta compared to Attapulgus. I reiterated that was the reason I’m from Florida and not Georgia.

Now I’m down to the last half of my Erbil stay. I’m glad I hit the grocery store, but honestly, I don’t need to go again. I got enough potatoes and frozen veggies to last the rest of the time and I don’t need to be tempted with cookies. I’m still working on eating my way though what I brought, but I’m doing all right. I finished the pasta and lentils and the end is in sight for the popcorn and powdered milk. Still working on the rice; I had a really big bag, but if I wind up finishing off the powered milk or powdered sugar (I brought brownie mix!), then I have a container I can downsize into.

There’s a possibility that I might get a third TDY up here, and I’d welcome that. I’m due to depart Iraq at the end of September, and from what I’ve been told, the person I’m substituting will be taking leave from the end of August until mid-September. That’d work out just fine for me.

Although I love being in Baghdad, I love it here, too. They’re very different but for me, both experiences have been positive.

A wet damper on plans

Halfway through my Erbil stay, I haven’t exactly followed through with ambitious dream of preparing for a job interview next month. Instead, I’ve been shivering and dodging raindrops.

It has been gorgeous out, though. Unfortunately, only about 30 percent of the time. When it’s gorgeous it really is fantastic. But for whatever reason, it’s been incredibly wet. Apparently it’s wetter than it’s been in 30something years. It stormed twice after 6 p.m. yesterday and kept me awake, which is weird because in Baghdad, you can’t hear anything inside the apartments. The windows are thick and I’m on a middle floor, so there’s no rain pounding on roof. Here, though, I can hear it just pounding, and my curtain is open a little and the flashes of lightning light up the whole room.

Usually, the storms don’t last for too long, but they’re brutal. And unfortunately, I didn’t pack a raincoat. Although there’s a distinct rainy season here, it’s usually over by now so I took it out. It starts in November or so, and this year it hasn’t gone five days without rain and usually there’s been way more than that.

I am sticking to the gym, and last night I had to wait out a storm in order to get there. The gym is just in a little metal building, so it’s not really a place you want to be while it’s pouring out, but it wasn’t too bad.  But maybe last night’s and today’s will be the last. Hope springs eternal, I guess.

The worst part has been, with the last three days’ rain, the chill. I’m back to not being able to get warm. The buildings have wall-mounted heaters but the walls and floors just hold in the chill. This morning, I’ve had three cups of hot tea and two cups of hot chocolate, but I’m still chilled. Mostly it’s my toes.

Since there wasn’t a lot to do after work last time, this time I brought some stuff to knock out, thinking I’d have a couple hours a night to kill. That hasn’t happened this time. First, I’m still covering a couple things from Baghdad, so I’m doing more there, but in addition to the main job here, I got added another project. As a result, I am not getting out at 5 p.m. or so like last time.  That pushes everything back, and I’ve vowed to do more than the half hour in the gym that I did last time. In Baghdad, an hour is the bare minimum and sometimes I’m in there up to three.

Except for one night where I worked until 6:30, I’ve been good on that (and that night I walked three kilometers) but that where the rest of the plan falls apart. I’m not getting to the gym until well after 6, so it’s well after 7:30 or so that I walk the two blocks home (or run, if it’s raining again), take a shower and grab a bite.

My original idea had been to commit about two hours a night to preparing for a couple of upcoming things and continuing the online Spanish. Kaput! Now I’m trying to reorganize and get a little forward progress. On this. The Spanish is probably going to go by the wayside because I didn’t get the assignment I thought I’d get, but it might switch to another language soon. Either way, it’s not the important thing. That’s the prep for this thing I have coming up and boy howdy, do I need to prep for it.

I am getting better about focusing on it in the mornings. Normally I wake up around 6, but here, except today, I’ve been up around 5 a.m. Not on purpose; who does that? The light comes in the window; when the sun is out, it’s out early. But I get up, make breakfast, check on Zippy and then have been looking at the stuff, though not as much as I should. I keep thinking I have plenty of time but man, it goes fast.

Running out of everything

I’m back for another round at the office in Erbil and have been welcomed with open arms, hugs and pleas of “never leave again!” The people here are so nice.

And the weather is much nicer than it was over Christmas. By that I mean warmer, I suppose. The mornings and evenings have been chilly but over the next couple of weeks they’ll warm up, I suppose. But it’s super wet and has been for awhile.

There was to be an outside meeting somewhere an hour or so road trip away the third day I was here. The sun had been out two days at that point and it started out gorgeous, and then all of a sudden these Noah-like floods came. They had to call off the meeting, and then a few hours later it was gorgeous again. And then, again, it was time for the ark.

It’s wetter than it’s been in years, and I didn’t bring a raincoat. I intended to, but I had to do some strategic packing this time around. Last time I was here, my bag was so crammed going back that I decided to upgrade to the big bag.

It’s not just a lot of root beer I need to unload. I’d sent all my dry food from Istanbul to Baghdad, and with our cafeteria offering all the already-cooked food I could possibly want, I haven’t used much of what I have. So I decided to pack up a bunch of it and bring to Erbil.

This meant taping up packages of lentils, pasta and rice, then gathering enough tea, Stevia, Crystal Light and hot chocolate for a month here. Also cooking oil (we’re OK with shipping liquids) and three soft drinks. I hit my weight limit or I would have brought more. I’m still seriously ahead of the game on the A&W. I brought two of those and a Dr Pepper. I can’t remember the last time I had a Dr Pepper.

It probably seems silly to have brought everything, but I hate wasting food and have no idea what I’ll do with what’s left after this tour. I was over the weight limit, though, and had to yank out a few things, like the raincoat.

Going back, who knows? There is a rumor there will be a carpet guy coming and I’m still working on the ACE Hardware mugs.

I should have room, though. On top of all the food, it seemed like every toiletry item I brought was going to run out, so I had to bring replacements. I thought about only taking the full ones but since I go home and basically turn right around and go on a three-week R&R, I figured I should just go ahead and unload.

So now I am settling in again. There’s an off-chance this might not be my last trip here, but I’m playing it like it is. Hoping the Kurdagonia T-shirts are available at some point, looking forward to seeing more carpets and there’s another textile vendor I want to check out if I can.

Not sure if I’ll have the opportunity to go off-campus, but I’m hopeful, not that I need anything. I have my staples and the veggie guy comes here, so there’s nothing I really need.

Now I’ve hit up the book and DVD library and am watching “Heartbreak Ridge,” an older Clint Eastwood one. I’ve got “Breaking Bad” in the queue again but might opt for something new.

I’ll have to check to see if the masseuse will be around this month, but if not, they have amazing massage chairs in the library room. Kind of hoping for a haircut before I head out on R&R.

Speaking of, I got the information on my Peace Corps reunion. We’re renting this place: https://www.vrbo.com/4754456ha. I might not leave.

Dog days in Baghdad

On Saturday, we had a K-9 appreciation day here on the compound. It was so much fun. They had about a dozen dogs out there and oh man, there were so many people who came just to play.

I went dog to dog and got to know all of them. Bud, one whom I’d met the week before, wasn’t there, but there was an aptly named Diva, as well as a Goldie. By the end, I knew all the dogs’ names, but not a one of the handlers’. Poor guys. They’re the invisible beings on the other ends of the leashes. Sometimes they produce treats that you can offer to their better halves, but in general, they are mounds of DNA who wear beige cargo pants with pockets than can hold a rubber ball on a rope. (We do have some dog handlers who are female, but none attended this event.)

Diva was a doll and knew it. My favorite was a humble (and chunky) black Lab named Panda. We’d also met before, and, even though she was on the clock, her DNA-on-the-other-end-of-the-leash let me play with her a bit then, so on Saturday, I was basically I was rolling on the ground with her. She loved it. She’s like 12 times the size of Batgirl, but it was the same theory: Rub my tummy. Scratch my ears. Rub my butt. Throw the ball. I’d toss the rubber-ball-on-a-rope in the air and most of the time she’d catch it, but sometimes she’d miss and ricochet off her nose, then bounce wildly on the pavement, causing her to jerk DNA-on-a-leash’s shoulder as she lunged for the wayward ball. But here DNA, and all the other DNAs, appreciated us. They’re with their pup partners 24/7, so they appreciated getting more people to work with them and wear them out a bit. I’m sure he was kidding, but DNA told me I was welcome to check her out over the weekend to give him a break.

He’d been on the other end of leashes for 16 years, and he rated Panda in his top 5. They can adopt the dogs after the dogs retire, which, for my department, is age 7. I asked DNA about his No. 1 dog and his voice trailed off as he said, “He saved my life.”

One of the DNAs was the first handler of his dog. It might have been Chanteuse. Anyway, he said the first handler is the one who has the first rights to adopt when it’s time to retire them. That seems fair. Another handler – John, who wasn’t on the end of a leash on Saturday, so I got his name – had told me previously that he hadn’t adopted any of his dogs, explaining that he was “attached, but not too attached” to them. By the tone in his voice, it seemed like he tried to keep a slight distance in case something happened to them. He said he’d lost dogs before. I can’t imagine how horrific that would be.

There’s a movie out called “Rex” about a Marine and her bomb dog partner. It’s based on a true story, but who knows what that means, you know? But both Rex and Rex’s DNA-on-a-leash got hit with a bomb, and both lived but sustained injuries and PTSD. The movie is about DNA trying to have Rex ruled adoptable so that she can keep him. That’s what John’s comment made me think about.

Back to Saturday and Panda: They did a demonstration and before it, her DNA-on-a-leach joked that he hoped she didn’t embarrass him. Well, they had 10 boxes set up, and the first DNA ran his dog down the line. When she got to about box No. 6, she stopped so short her hind legs popped up, and then she sat down at the box and refused to budge. She looked at DNA as if to say, “Hey, buddy, I win the game. Give me the treat!” And DNA produced a ball from his cargo pants, as the narrator explained that the dogs are rewarded with toys, not treats.

Goldie then ran the drill, to the same effect, although he’s a bit heavier (not Panda-like) and his hind legs stayed on the ground. Diva then sailed through, and even though DNA tried to coax her away from it, she just sat there like, “Hey, give me some love.” DNA produced the rubber ball and she jumped for joy – right into his arms.

Well, Panda just darted  (such that it was) and acted like a featherbrained ditz, only not so graceful. It wasn’t even obvious she was sniffing the boxes, she was just kind of lumbering excitedly along. She completely overran the guilty box and the audience gasped. She showed no reaction as she blew past it, then past the last four boxes. She then, still lumber-bouncing along, then circled back down the other side past four boxes, reaching No. 6 from the other direction. There, she was so frantic she pawed it, and then looked at DNA and said, OK, I’m done. TOY! Here we thought she’d lost the game, but she’d figured it out right off but made sure there was nothing else nefarious!

DNA-on-the-other-end-of-the-leash told me later that Panda was very methodical and thorough, and that’s why they’d made such good partners.

I miss dogs. We normally can’t play with any we see; they’re usually working, but sometimes I get lucky and get to scratch some ears or a tummy. The guy leading the demonstration said we have mostly Belgium malamutes, Labs and German shepherds, but in the past we’ve had some terriers and other smaller dogs. A Jack Russell probably, but not a Chihuahua. I just can’t imagine Batgirl or Rally earning their keep like that.