Next year in Jerusalem!: February-March Missive

A Missive from Mesopotamia

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Someone on the compound has a
sense of humor I can appreciate!

Happy New Year! / a'am ja-deed sa'eed! / !عام جديد سعيد

As-salam ‘alaykum, my friends. Welcome back, and a very Happy New Year to you and your families.

Here in the Cradle of Civilization, the heat has left us entirely, and we’ve had a very pleasant few months. No doubt it will be returning soon, but for the moment we are enjoying fairly pleasant winter weather, with temperatures much like that of Phoenix, Arizona: 50s and 60s during the day, 30s and 40s at night. We get a little rain here and there, but mostly it’s been sunny and dry, so nothing to complain about. A good friend here has observed that, with weather like this, it’s no wonder the first civilizations settled in the region some 12,000 years ago.

Back home in Minnesota we often joke that the bitter cold winter serves to keep the riff raff out. Maybe the brutal heat of summer has the same effect here.

Glühwein in Germania & Christmas in Paris

Back in December I had my second R&R away from post, and we decided to travel a little in Europe. I had a perfectly lovely time, albeit too short, visiting the Christmas markets of Germany and Austria with my best girl. We started in Munich, traveled north to Rothenburg ob der Tauber (and included a side trip to Nuremberg and another to Dachau on the way back to Munich), then headed south to Salzburg and Innsbruck. We enjoyed a day trip from Salzburg back into that little spit of far southeast Germany that pokes into Austria, where sits the town of Berchtesgaden (home of Hitler’s Eagles Nest), for a magical hike along the Königssee, and to make a small trip down memory lane.

Santa making a visit in
Rothenberg ob der Tauber.

Beautiful Rothenberg ob der Tauber.

Gluhwein with Ken at the
Christmas Market in Munich!

Krampus parade in Munich.

Giant carousel and sausage
stand in Munich.

Hofbrau Haus in Munich for
gigantic beers with Ken!

Visit to Neuschwanstein castle.

Gates to Dachau.

Roll call grounds and haunting
sculpture in Dachau.

Konigsee after a beautiful snowfall.

Snowy Salzburg from above with
the fortress in the distance.

Christkindleinzug Parade in Innsbruck.
The children are
dressed as angels and shepherds,
complete with a herd of live sheep!

Gorgeous town of Innsbruck in the Alps along the River Inn.

When I was just a teenager, a veritable lifetime ago now, my family and I traveled in this very same region, including the extreme southeast of Germany, for several weeks one summer. Our good friends & neighbors back in Brookfield, WI were a family from Germany, and mom Inga spent quite a bit of time in a little village tucked away in this corner of Bavaria. On our trip back then we spent some time in that very same village, and in fact stayed about a week in the very same tidy Bavarian cottage where Inga had lived for a time after the war, for it was still owned by her brother back in the 1980s.

Snug in an Alpine valley near the Austrian border, the little village of Weissbach is still there, and despite my decent sense of direction, good paper and electronic maps, and my intention all along to visit this little hamlet, we actually wound up in the wrong Weissbach initially. Who knew that just a few kilometers from one another would be two little towns with the same name? As we meandered the streets of Weissbach #1 for about twenty minutes, I searched my mental hard drive for anything I was seeing that looked familiar. Nothing. Resigned to the fact that I just couldn’t remember correctly the little village from my youth, we set out to continue our pleasant afternoon drive. As it happened, on our return toward Salzburg back across the border in Austria, we happened upon a small settled stretch in the highway that immediately looked familiar, even after nearly forty years, and which of course turned out to be Weissbach #2.

Weissbach takes its name from the little stream that flows through town, which means “white brook” in English. Complementing the stream are several dozen beautiful homes, a handful of businesses, a picturesque Catholic church, and stunning natural beauty as the mountain peaks keep watch high over the village on all sides. We drove up and down the residential street where I was sure the cottage once stood, and even though I was now certain that we were in the right Weissbach, I couldn’t find the right house. We phoned my parents back in Milwaukee to see if they had any clues, like which side of the street it was on, or any other hint that might lead us in the right direction. No luck. We hung up and continued our search, and a few minutes later the phone rang. My parents had called Inga to get the address, but she informed them the old cottage had been torn down years ago and a new home build in its stead.

So no luck finding the cottage, but a few days prior I had emailed Inga’s son Ray to let him know we were going to be there, and I asked if anyone from days gone by might still be in the area. He informed me that indeed an old friend was still there, living just down the road from Inga’s childhood home, and that we should just amble on up and ring the bell to see if anyone was home if we were feeling adventurous. Turns out that Ulli was indeed home, and he surprised me in that after I introduced myself, he actually remembered me, even after all these years. (He had visited our Wisconsin neighbors several times in the summer when we were all kids, and we also had some good times all those years ago when my family visited Weissbach that summer.)

It was early evening, and so our visit was short as we didn’t want to disturb them any more than we already had. But we did have a nice chat for about 20-30 minutes, reminiscing a bit about the old days and catching up on current goings on. Our visit was punctuated by neighborhood kids stopping by all dressed up in costumes and signing Christmas carols, which was super cute. For all those reasons I’m glad we made the effort to stop, even if for just a few minutes.

Kate didn’t have very much leave from the library, and so after our little four city tour she headed back to the States. I, on the other hand, still had more than ten days remaining before I had to return to post, and so of course off it was to Paris for Christmas with my Dishy!! Despite the onset of the government shutdown which started just before Christmas Day, we had so much fun together hitting all the big museums and parks and cemeteries, including a day trip out to Versailles, which was amazing. We imposed ourselves on good friends Kris and Doug over the holidays, and had a very relaxing time celebrating Christmas together and hanging out in their beautiful apartment in the 16^th Arrondissement near the Arc de Triomphe and the Bois de Boulogne. We hoped for a snowy holiday in Paris, but alas it was quite warm most of our time there, and while that was a bit disappointing, the warmer weather allowed us to see all the cool stuff without freezing our tuchuses off.

Dishy on Rue Cler, a cute little
pedestrian street of shops and cafes.

Along the Seine with the Eiffel
Tower in the background.

Street artist.

Eugene Delacroix's "Liberty Leading
the People" at the Louvre.

Inside-out view of the Louvre.

Jim Morrison's grave site at
Pere-Lachaise Cemetery.

The Louvre.

Notre Dame.

Blue tree at Notre Dame.

View of Paris from the top of the
Basilica of Sacre Coeur.

A night at the opera with friends Kris and Doug.

I returned to post just in time for New Year’s Eve, where the embassy community was having a party at the pub on compound called Baghdaddy’s. (Yup, that’s truly what it’s called. I have a t-shirt to prove it.) I went for an hour or so, but given extenuating circumstances “beyond the wire,” I decided to leave around 11:30 as I didn’t want to get caught outside my apartment if things started flying over the wall at midnight, which would cause us to shelter in place for who knows how long. Instead I called the family back home as I watched the fireworks across the Tigris at the Babylon Hotel. All in all, I’d say it was a good way to ring in the new year.

Basrah

Virtually every country on earth has an Embassy of the United States of America (about 180 out of 192 or so countries). Embassies are in the capital cities, although we do have a virtual embassy for Iran (really!), and in large countries where it makes sense, the U.S. Mission to that country may have offices in several cities: The embassy in the capital, and consulates general in satellite cities, for example countries such as Australia, Russia and Canada. (Another example: My next tour will be in Istanbul, site of the consulate general, for the US Embassy in Turkey is in the capital, Ankara.) Here in Iraq, the embassy is in Baghdad, and we had two consulates general, one in the northern city of Erbil, in the Iraqi Kurdistan Region; and one in the south in the city of Basrah, in the large oil producing region which is home to a large port on the Shatt al-Arab (“the river of the Arabs” which is formed from the confluence of the Tigris and the Euphrates and which empties into the Persian Gulf). Notably, Basrah sits on a narrow strip of land bordered by Kuwait to the southwest and Iran to the northeast.

Basrah sits on huge Iraqi oil wealth, and is located in the far south of the country, in a region that gets even warmer than Baghdad in the summer. High temperatures routinely exceed 50 degrees C / 122 degrees F, and given the poor implementation of public services like electric and water delivery, it can be pretty miserable in the summer months, even quite deadly. Last August, as temperatures were hitting historic highs in the mid-50s C / nearly 130 F and electricity service was spotty at best, water delivery issues added a particularly toxic ingredient to an already volatile mix. Basrawis were already uneasy due to the oppressive heat and lack of reliable electricity to power air conditioners, fans and refrigerators, when the water quite literally became toxic due to industrial and agricultural pollution, as well as increased salinity as the water flow into the Persian Gulf began reversing course. Thousands were made ill, sometimes overwhelming hospitals, and the lack of responsiveness by the government to address the issues contributed to unrest in the city. As the weeks dragged on, temperatures rose, the water quality continued to drop, and the unrest became violent.

Added to this literal and figurative toxicity was a particularly messy political environment, made more so as a result of nearby Iran and their attempts to exert influence in Iraq, especially in the south where the people are mostly Shia Muslim, like in Iran. Government corruption and general ineptitude at delivering basic services despite Basrah sitting on most of the oil wealth, the soaring temperatures, and Iranian meddling finally caused things to boil over. Ultimately, the overall situation became dire enough that the people began to openly revolt in September, setting fire to many Iraqi government buildings and burning down the Iranian Consulate there. At least a dozen people were killed in the violence, mostly in clashes with Iraqi security forces, and while generally our colleagues in the US Consulate were safe, there could be no guarantees.

With all of this uncertainty and the flare-ups of violence, combined with high levels of risk aversion back home in Washington despite assurances from here on the ground that we really needed to be there, the decision to temporarily suspend our operations at the Consulate was finally made. Even as the violence began to subside as temperatures cooled and the uneven delivery of electricity became more tolerable, our colleagues began clearing out the Consulate and packing up all the supplies for shipping out. At the same time, bad actors in the capital lobbed a few homemade rockets our way here in the Embassy, causing some sleep interruption but not much else. Now months later, operations remain temporarily suspended in Basrah, but final closure is largely a foregone conclusion.

And so the United States now has no formal presence in a critical region of the country, rich with oil and culture, and which is subject to influence by Iran which now goes unchecked except for whatever we can do virtually from Baghdad. And the dates on the calendar, an indicator of when things will start to heat up, are closer than they appear. It could soon get exciting all over again.

Erbil

The city of Erbil is host to what is quite possibly the world’s most unusual US Consulate General. The Iraqi Kurdistan Region is a pretty darn safe area, all things considered. Nonetheless, most everyone recognizes that threats toward Americans are real, especially in a country and region so recently liberated from Da’esh (the Arabic acronym for ISIS). Not long after I returned from my first R&R back in September, my immediate boss and I had the opportunity to visit Erbil and some of the cultural heritage sites in the region, and to see this unusual consulate firsthand.

What makes it unusual, you ask? Well, a new one is under construction, but the current one is a neighborhood. Yes, an entire neighborhood. Perhaps it’s about 12 square blocks of streets and houses, all converted into diplomatic facilities (health office, security office, guard’s quarters, consulate, etc.) and all the housing needed for those diplomats who work there. The entire area is now surrounded, blocked off and secure, and once inside you just wander down the middle of the streets to go from point A to point B, because there is no traffic. Well, there are the security, delivery and maintenance vehicles and stuff, but no actual traffic. It’s a little disconcerting, really. They also have a couple little restaurants and shops, holdovers to the time before it all became the US Consulate General, but generally it’s just houses which have been converted into the various offices. Presumably when the new consulate general opens up, the houses will all revert to the private residences they once were, but at the moment, it’s just a little odd.

While there, we met with some alumni of our exchange programs, had dinner with the Consul General and several leaders from local universities, visited our American Corner in town, and had a chance to visit the historic Erbil Citadel. One of the many things my office (the Public Affairs Section) does is provide grants to NGOs who are partnering with local government and other groups to ensure the preservation, restoration and protection of cultural heritage sites. The Erbil Citadel is one of those places, and so we weren’t exactly just sightseeing, we were monitoring the mechanics of the grant to check that the implementer is doing what they said they were going to do in the grant application, and that the work is going according to plan.

The citadel is a large fortified earthen mound, or tell (a settlement mound), in the center of the city. If that doesn’t make a lot of sense, think of a prehistoric castle, with enormously thick stone walls (added in the 18^th and 19^th centuries) and a small city inside the gates. Occupation of the site predates written history, perhaps back to the Neolithic era, and some of the earliest evidence suggests that permanent settlement goes back about 7,000 years during the Assyrian empire. It’s being completely restored, and the US Embassy plays a part in that restoration by helping fund some of the work through grants. About 12 years go the restoration began, and about five years ago the citadel was added to the registry of UNESCO World Heritage Sites, the inscription for which suggests that the citadel could in fact be the oldest continuously occupied site in the world. The work won’t be complete for several more years, but nonetheless it’s pretty darn cool to see, and while not exactly open to tourists just yet, we were able to have a guided tour provided by the Director himself and his chief archeologist, who showed off the hamman (the public bath house) and some of the homes which have been restored already. It’s an important site for Iraqis, but even more so for all of humanity. Truly a world heritage site in every sense.

Reconstruction of a structure inside the Erbil Citadel.

The minaret of the Grand Mosque with the hamman in the
foreground inside the Citadel.

Restored building inside the Citadel,
almost ready for visitors.

Downtown Erbil from above,
taken from just outside the Citadel.

Consulate General Public Affairs team together with the
Director and Chief Architect of the Erbil Citadel,
along with yours truly and my boss.

Looking down over the main market area of Erbil.

The Head Honcho, The Big Cheese & The Big Enchilada

Occasionally in this life, people of import will visit a US Embassy somewhere in the world. The A-B-Cs of their reasoning varies, of course, from the annoying to the benign to the critical, but when a visit by a VIP or a VVIP is announced, it’s all hands on deck to coordinate and plan. In a place like Iraq, it’s mind-boggling what goes into a visit such as this.

Perhaps you heard that the president came to Iraq the day after Christmas. (During the government shutdown, I might add.) It’s possible that this was on the news back home, I’m not sure. I was in France on R&R with Sophie at the time, but friends and colleagues were here, of course. The reality of the president’s visit to Iraq at that time is actually pretty underwhelming in some respects, because he and his team were only on the ground at Al Asad Air Base (about 100 miles west of Baghdad and, by the way, not a US military base, as it’s operated by the coalition forces) for less than six hours. Consequently, here at the Embassy only a handful of people knew this was going to happen, and only a short time before it happened. So while of course it’s a pretty big deal when any president visits, this visit only involved a few people on our end, and honestly, most people didn’t know he was even in Iraq until after Air Force One had actually left the country.

Not long after the president’s visit, “S” stopped by for a day. (Also during the government shutdown, after my return to post, and after many of us learned we would go without paychecks.) “S” is the ‘State-speak’ acronym for the Secretary of State. (Can it be an acronym when it’s only one letter? A question for the ages…) He and his entourage were visiting eight or nine countries on a swing through the Middle East, and the stop in Iraq was indeed for one day only. Despite being on the ground in Iraq for such a short time, the team here at the embassy organized a fully packed schedule for the secretary, who held meetings with several government officials here in Baghdad and also in Erbil, and also arranged meet & greet with troops at the airport, a short town hall with embassy employees, and meetings on the compound for the secretary’s wife (Mrs. S??) during their time in Baghdad.

Lt. General Paul LaCamera, Secretary Pompeo,
and Ambassador Silliman.
I'm in the back on the right pretending
to know what I'm doing.

Secretary Pompeo, Mrs. Pompeo, Ambassador Silliman.
Again I'm on the right doing my impersonation of
someone important.

In a place like Iraq, the logistical hurdles that go into moving us around the city are pretty complicated. To do so for someone such as the secretary of state for meetings at Iraqi government facilities is truly impressive, particularly with such a limited amount to time on the ground. Suffice it to say there are quite a few security folks here to help protect us as we go about trying to conduct business in as normal a manner as possible, and their efforts are greatly appreciated. I can state unequivocally that we could not do our jobs out in the city and country without them.

And then, at the end of January, Ambassador Douglas Silliman departed Iraq for the final time. He had spent something like five of the last ten years here in Iraq, and had overseen embassy operations during some of the most severe challenges a country can face (Da’esh was just outside of Baghdad as late as mid-2016 or so). Ambassadors are the personal representatives of the President of the United States in a country, and so when one comes or goes, it’s pretty significant.

I had a very small role in Ambassador Silliman’s departure from post. The Public Affairs Section possesses a portable sound system, which is quite powerful. I set up the sound system by the helo pad where the ambassador would board his helicopter for the flight from the embassy to the nearby airfield, and as he forged ahead through the crowd to hop aboard I was blasting the Ride of the Valkyries. (For those unaware, this song is a key element to a famous helicopter scene in the film Apocalypse Now.) Shortly after the helicopter was off and the roar of the engines faded a bit, I switched to the theme from Star Wars in order to initiate the reign of the Deputy Chief of Mission, who was now the Chargé d’Affaires a.i., in effect the acting ambassador until the new guy arrives. He’s a good sport and enjoyed the fun.

Also, it turns out that after nine months as post, helicopters have become a thing now. My previous experience with them amounted to precisely zero, other than seeing them overhead, and those were either civilian or police choppers. Blackhawks, Hueys, Chinooks and the super cool hybrid Ospreys are part of my lexicon now, which is just one more of the many ways my life has changed rather significantly in the past eight years. And suffice it to say that riding in a helo over the streets of Baghdad, strapped in with what seems like a rudimentary 50s era seatbelt in front of an open door is something of a surreal experience, all things considered. And I’m sad to say I only have three more rides in a helo remaining in my tour.

The Shutdown of 2019

Of course everyone knows about the longest federal government shutdown in history, which started about four days before Christmas. It’s possible you heard about this on the news, I think I recall hearing that. Here in Iraq, we were also affected, of course, despite working and living in a conflict zone. (The security situation is much better than a few years ago, but it’s important to remember that elements of Da’esh are still out there, they aren’t the only threat, and that the situation can change in a heartbeat.) This was a surprise to many people in my circle back home, for people assumed that even though we work for the federal government, we would not have our pay stopped precisely because we are in a conflict zone. This was not the case for many here. About 25% of the federal government writ large was actually furloughed, and that applied here (and at embassies and consulates all over the world) as well. So some of us were getting paid and some were not, and yet all of us were working because, well, we’re in Iraq, a post with pretty significant national security implications. Yes, of course we felt at the time we would eventually be paid (and yes, that bill was signed into law, yet there was no guarantee of that happening), but recall that many of the people who work for the federal government are contractors, who were not included in that bill to authorize back pay, and many of them work here. Other colleagues with whom I work closely here in Baghdad are in much different situations than we are: Our kids are out of college, working and (for the most part) completely independent, and last year we paid off our home in Minnesota. Friends and colleagues here sometimes have situations like us, but that appears anecdotally to be the exception, not the rule. Examples abound of the employee (officer or contractor) living and working here while the spouse and kids (and sometimes the in-laws) live in very expensive places like Mexico City, Miami, metro Washington, or Tokyo, all on one income. Another colleague is preparing for his next job in DC after this tour, has two kids and one income, and is trying to arrange housing in the DC area for when they will need to relocate. Stories like this are common. A full month without a paycheck can stretch anyone’s budget, and there was real financial concern for these families, contractors and officers alike, and regardless of individual political positions, there was near universal recognition that this shutdown was unnecessary at best, a cruel joke at worst.

Free Time

Despite the somewhat suffocating nature of living on a compound with no freedom of movement in and around the city and country – obviously a result of the nature of the security situation here – we are actually made quite comfortable. There are many options for MWR (mil-speak for Morale, Welfare and Recreation) activities here, and we can always organize our own as well.

In the midst of cool winter temperatures, my friend started up weekly wiffle-ball on Friday mornings, which is quite an entertaining way to spend a couple of hours. We’re hoping to stretch it as late into the season as possible before the heat becomes too unbearable. Every other week we have a pub trivia contest, for which our particular team has amassed quite an admirable record of victories. A colleague who was a sommelier and wine entrepreneur prior to joining the Foreign Service has hosted monthly wine tastings for us so we can enjoy one another’s company and learn all about the complexities of high quality Iraqi wines. (Kidding about that last part.) I’ve started walking a couple miles around the compound in the cooler weather, and will likely return to the swimming pool when the heat returns. I’ve also taken up mediocre tennis with some friends, which is a good way to stay active. Recently the CLO (Community Liaison Office) arranged for a community art show, and I printed off and displayed some photography from the past few years, which was enjoyable. Speaking of photography, one day last fall I volunteered to take photos during a special day of games and activities on compound for the Internally Displaced Persons Kids Day, which was quite fun and interesting, while at the same time contained elements of despair and sadness knowing the situation that led to their displacement, as well as the living conditions to which they would soon return after our event was over.

A common refrain, instantly recognizable to those who have served here or likely in other conflict zones, is the rhyming pattern that describes what may happen to a person while serving here: They will become a hunk (they work out during any free time), a chunk (they do anything BUT workout), a monk (they self-isolate and read or pursue other intellectual hobbies), a punk (they lack direction and do essentially nothing useful or positive in their free time), or a drunk (pretty self-explanatory). My tour here is coming to a close in less than 100 days, and I’m trying to avoid excess in any one thing and maintain a balanced approach to this life, which is actually not all that hard to accomplish for me since most of the people I spend time with are of a similar attitude. That helps immensely, and I’m grateful for their overall approach, dedication to our mission, and general ethical qualities. I’d gladly serve anywhere in the world with any of them, which in our world is the highest praise one has to offer.

It’s All Downhill From Here

Not sure exactly why this phrase is a thing, since going ‘downhill’ has some pretty negative connotations. However, it is a thing and what one often says when the end of something is near. My tour is winding down, with just over three months and one R&R remaining, and despite the difficulties of living and working in this environment, and being apart from family for so long, I think serving here was a smart decision for us. The work is interesting, the people – Americans, local colleagues, and Iraqis outside the compound with whom we work – are near-universally great, and the country and culture are fascinating. Unfortunately there is a move afoot to reduce the American presence among Foreign Service Officers here in Baghdad, and so my position is one of dozens slated for elimination later this summer. That seems shortsighted to me, for a variety of reasons, but I’ll leave that for another day.

An unaccompanied tour is not for everyone, for being apart from family for such long periods is a huge stressor. In our case, we’ve managed better than some, I think, because we had built up 30 years of equity together which we draw on for strength and resilience; our kids are grown up, independent and successful, and would not be living at home anyway; and it’s only one year with the promise of something more family friendly afterwards. Couples with less time together may struggle more, and it’s been said that a tour in a place like Iraq or Afghanistan will simply snap any relationship that has unresolved or non-reinforced fault-lines already. Nonetheless, this kind of a tour is highly valued by the State Department in order to ensure posts of such strategic importance have adequate staffing, and there are some positive short-term and long-term incentives to assist both the Department and the employee that make it all worth it.

It’s hard to overestimate the difficulty of being separated. Of course it’s different for everyone, for each family and relationship has its own unique circumstances. I think what I miss most (besides the obvious actual time together with Kate and the kids), are the daily interactions, the little conversations that aren’t really conversations at all, about things that – in the middle of it all – are kind of inane, or at least seemingly unimportant in the moment. Phone calls and FaceTime are great, but they can’t replace the spontaneity of the little things that make up a day together, the laughter at some random absurdity or silly slip up, the making of plans for that day or even the next year, and serious discussions that need to happen about family and life. Texting five times a day doesn’t really capture or enhance the essence of a relationship, and while I suppose some people can deal with that absence of intimacy better than others, this part has been difficult. We are a close family, a Team, and having four (now five) of us in four different cities on two different continents has been a real challenge.

Overall I’m glad I did this, but I won’t be doing it again anytime soon.

All in all, I am healthy and well, and we are healthy and well. I hope you can say the same.

TEDxBaghdad conference at a local hotel.

Pretending to be Tom Hanks
at TEDxBaghdad.

The boss doing TV interviews
at TEDxBaghdad.

Yours truly doing a radio interview at
TEDxBaghdad.

Presenting on US Embassy programs
which combat violent extremism.
An "interesting" Google Translation changed my name
to Dave B., and made me a Dutch artist.

I visited the chapel at Forward Operating
Base Union III across the street
from the embassy for a Kaddish memorial
service after the shootings
in Pittsburgh.