Fall 2020 Communique

The Constantinople Communiqué

Merhaba arkadaşlarım!  //  Hello my friends!

I like maps, and I also like to sketch my own

Hoş geldiniz!
I’m really glad you’re here with me again, thanks for coming.  It’s been some time since the last update, but of course it was a planned hiatus due to nearly a year of training after my return from Iraq.  After more than 44 weeks of full-time language training (the State Department standard for Turkish training is 44 weeks, but the pandemic caused an extension of several weeks), I managed the 3/3 needed to be functionally proficient in Türkçe.  Now that I’m here, it’s sometimes painfully evident where the holes are in that proficiency!
 
Turkish is a pretty darn interesting language.  Consider speaking a bit like Yoda, with the main verb coming at the end of each sentence (i.e. subject-object-verb word order).  In other words, in English we might say “Ali is going to the theater,” where the Turkish equivalent is “Ali to the theater is going.”  Essentially, that means it’s spoken in a modified reverse manner, and the listener is often waiting until the end of the sentence to determine what actually happened, is happening, or will happen.  It definitely took some getting used to for me, and when reading my trick was essentially learning to read sentences backwards, so I would first locate the subject (which is usually up front in a sentence), then look for the verb that goes with that subject (often near the end of the sentence), and then read the rest of the sentence from back to front.  Of course that method is slow, and isn’t much help when speaking.  And like Russian, there is no real present tense for “to be,” so instead of saying “Ali is an engineer,” it’s just “Ali an engineer.” Luckily there are no gendered nouns like in Russian and French, and it uses the Latin alphabet (with only a couple special characters), so that’s helpful.
 
However, Turkish requires vowel and consonant harmony, and is also an agglutinative language.

What's that, you say?  You have no idea what that  means?  Yeah well, welcome to the club, because neither did I.

Suffice it to say that certain vowels (and some consonants) must be paired together within a word, and therefore are harmonious when spoken.  It takes some getting used to, but there’s a logic to the system, and once you practice it enough it comes somewhat naturally.  For one example of this harmony, notice that in the two words above (geldiniz and arkadaşlarım), you’ll see two different types of the letter “i”, one with the dot and one without.  Each represents a different sound, and they are almost always paired to the vowel immediately preceding it.  (Exceptions to this rule are often Arabic, Ottoman Turkish, or other foreign borrowed words.)  In the first of those two words you can see the vowel “e” followed by the vowel “i” with the dot, and in the second word the vowel “a” followed by the vowel “ı” without the dot.  This is the logical pattern in most Turkish words, so that you know which “i” sound to use based on the prior “a” or “e” vowel.  Our Turkish instructors told us this is because these combinations just sound better together; they are just more harmonious when spoken.

 
Now, agglutination is a funny word, isn’t it?  It was definitely a new concept for me.  Turkish, Hungarian, Finnish and a few others are considered agglutinative languages.  This is the process of stringing together words or word parts in order to form more complex words with expanded meaning, basically adding suffixes to suffixes, sometimes even four, five or six of them.  Using the example above (arkadaşlarım), and knowing that Turkish works backwards in the way the structure conveys meaning, you’ll see the root (arkadaş = friend) plus the plural (lar = s) plus the first person possessive suffix (m = my).  In the end we have one word for “my friends”:  arkadaş is friend, arkadaşlar is friends, and arkadaşlarım is my friends.
 
But wait!  What’s that little undotted “ı” doing in there?  Well, in this case, the “ı” serves as a buffer between two consonants, because *of course* we couldn’t have the r next to the m, it just wouldn’t be harmonious!  But note it is also harmonious with the previous vowel “a.”  So much harmony!
 
The other word, geldiniz (when together with “hoş” is the greeting “Welcome”), also has two suffixes, and also happens to have vowel harmony.  We start with the infinitive verb (gelmek = to come), use only its root (gel), then add the past tense suffix (di) and the second person suffix (niz = formal or plural you).  In the end we have the structure for “you came”: geldi is came and niz is you.  Together, Hoş geldiniz! means [We hope or we are glad is implied] you came well or pleasantly, in other words “you [are] well come.”
 
A particularly impervious-to-understanding, outlandish and downright egregious example of agglutination is the word “muvaffakiyetsizleştiriciveremeyebileceklerimizdenmişsinizcesine.”  Here’s how that shakes out, after 63 letters and 17 suffixes:
 

Suffice it to say that Turkish can easily make one as if they are an unsuccessful one of the language!
 
Istanbyzantinople
Ok, that’s just silly, of course.  The city was never called that, but it has had many different names over the millennia.  And millennia is not overstating the point, either.  Recent excavations for a tunnel under the Bosporus Strait revealed that human settlement in the area dates to prehistoric times, or the Neolithic era some 8,000 years ago.

Kız Kulesı (Maiden Tower) on the Bosporus

Just a coupla diplomats doin' diplomat stuff

Sunset view of Aya Sofya (Hagia Sophia) and the Sultan Ahmet mosque (the Blue Mosque) from the Asian side of the Bosporus

 
The Bosporus splits this modern city of 15 million, as it has since before there was any settlement at all.  Geographers refer to the western side of the strait, which is in Europe, as Thrace, a Greek word which was the name of an ancient tribe of people who inhabited this area of Southeast Europe.  The opposite bank (which includes 97% or so of the landmass of the Republic of Turkey) is in Asia and is referred to as Anatolia, also historically referred to as Asia Minor.  Why the line is drawn here to separate the European and Asian continents is more a matter of geographical convention, not actual plate tectonics or anything.  Mostly we can blame (or credit) the Ancient Greeks for having made this distinction.
 
Over the course of those millennia, these early settlements of humans yielded to invasion, conquest and governance by the Hittites; the Persians (including Cyrus the Great and Darius the Great); a series of Greek city-states (from which we get King Midas as well as the invention of coins, among other things); the Macedonians under Alexander the Great; the Romans; the Goths; the Seljuk Turks; the Mongols; and the Ottomans.  All the while, the city grew, adapted, and acquired the cultures and religions, the cuisine and the architecture, of these different peoples.  It’s a truly fascinating place.

Aya Sofya (Hagia Sophia)
Originally a church built in 537 CE by Constantine,
converted to a mosque in 1453 by the Ottomans,
further converted into a museum in 1935 by the Turkish Republic.
In summer 2020 its use as a functioning mosque was reestablished.

 
Byzantium was founded as a city in the 7th century BCE by those early Greeks, led by a man named Byzas, who built a fortification on one of the seven hills overlooking the important trade route of the Bosporus.  The Romans came on the scene, and after Constantine the Great became Emperor of Rome in the 4th century CE and converted to Christianity, he moved the seat of power to Byzantium and referred to the city as Nova Roma.  The citizens of the city, however, referred to it as Constantinople, the city of Constantine.  The language of the realm was Greek at the time, and when those who lived further afield would travel to Constantinople, they would say they were going “to the city,” or “stin poli” in Greek, the pronunciation of which closely resembles that of “Istanbul.”
 
The Turks retained that colloquialism, and so, as the song goes (the original was written in 1953 on the occasion of the 500th anniversary of the fall of Constantinople to the Ottomans)

Istanbul was Constantinople

Now it’s Istanbul, not Constantinople

Been a long time gone, oh Constantinople

Istanbul city street cars, complete with straphangers on the back

Famous shopping and tourist area on Istiklal Caddesi (Istiklal High Street)

 

The US Embassy and the Inside Straight
Perhaps the three of you recall that, about a year ago in the last update, I hinted at an oddity about the US Embassy building in Istanbul.

This is that story.
 
The United States of America and the Ottoman Empire first established diplomatic relations in the 1830s.  At the time, we referred to our side as the American Legation at Constantinople.  Just north and across the Golden Horn from the famous historic district of the city is a grand old neighborhood called Beyoğlu, which is filled with imposing, historic buildings like those often seen in Old Europe.  One such building was built in the 1870s by a wealthy Genoese Italian ship owner and merchant, Ignazio Corpi, who died under mysterious circumstances the year it was completed in 1882.  That same year, Corpi’s family leased the lavish, four-story residence to American Ambassador John Leishman, who moved the Legation’s operations to the Palazzo Corpi, as the building was known. 
 
(Incidentally, it’s said the building is haunted by Corpi’s ghost.  One rumor stated that perhaps he was building the residence for his paramour rather than for Mrs. Corpi, and as a result a soothsayer told him he would die as soon as he moved in.  Construction took ten years, and upon moving in he killed himself.  Another rumor suggested that after moving in, Corpi and his suitor were, ahem, celebrating a bit too heartily, leading to the wealthy merchant’s untimely expiration.)
 
The status of the Legation was raised to an Embassy in 1906, and Palazzo Corpi then became the home of the US Mission as well as the official residence of the Ambassador.  At the time, the United States government owned precisely one property overseas, the US Legation to Tangiers, which was gifted to the United States by the Sultan of Morocco in the 1790s.  Evidently the good Ambassador felt this was an unacceptably small number of buildings for a world power to own, and in 1907 he purchased the building and grounds with his own money, 28,000 Ottoman gold lira, equal to millions today.  Complete with imported Italian marble floors and exterior facade, original frescoes, parquet floors, etched glass and magnificent fireplaces, Ambassador Leishman also evidently felt that the United States Congress would reimburse him for this expense.
 
Completely unexpectedly, his friends in Congress felt no such compulsion to do so.
 
In an audacious stroke of complete genius, moxie, or foolishness (or really all three), the Ambassador hatched a plan. 
 
A man of means himself (I mean, he bought an Italian villa!) who was friends with Andrew Carnegie, Ambassador Leishman planned a lavish bachelor party for a time when he was back in Washington.  On the guest list were the Speaker of the House (probably Joseph Cannon, after whom one of the House Office Buildings is named), the leaders of the Congressional Foreign Relations Committees, and other key members of Congress.  No expense was spared; only the best food was served, and the highest quality liquor flowed freely.  Awash in expensive cigars and booze, the poker game lasted deep into the night.  Having lost copious amounts of money as the evening wore on, Ambassador Leishman set his plan in motion, suggesting to the Congressmen at the table that they play for his Embassy.  Feeling they had him comprehensively refreshed and on the ropes, they readily agreed.  Setting aside his highball and attacking the game with renewed vigor and gravity, the Ambassador won the night, and therefore the reimbursement he hoped for.
 
And thus, the Palazzo Corpi became the first overseas building to be purchased by the State Department, as well as the first and still the only State Department building in the inventory won in a game of poker.  It remained the United States Embassy until 1937 when the Turkish capital moved to Ankara, then becoming the US Consulate General until 2003 when operations were moved to a new facility about 20 miles north of the city center.  In 2004 Congress created the Hollings Center (a non-governmental organization that works to increase understanding between the United States and the Muslim world) which is housed in the building, and leased the complex to Soho House, an upscale private club, hotel, restaurant and conference center after a major renovation in 2014.
 
My office has a contact who works out of Soho House, and a few weeks ago we ran into one another at one of the public restaurants there.  She happens to have many connections, and as a member of the club gave us a tour and arranged for dinner at the rooftop restaurant on a beautiful early autumn evening.  When you come to visit we’ll stop in, see if we can get a tour, have a refreshing Soho Mule, and toast Ambassador Leishman and the ghost of Iganzio Corpi.

Historic Palazzo Corpi, once the United States Embassy in Turkey.  If you look carefully in the pediment at the roofline, you can still see the Great Seal of the United States.

Palazzo Corpi, now the Soho House in the city center of Istanbul

Sunset view of Istanbul from the rooftop of Soho House

 
Consulate General of the United States
Because we no longer work out of the grandiose Palazzo Corpi in the city center, and because the Embassy is in the capital Ankara, we work out of a modern building up on a hilltop overlooking a suburban area of Istanbul, with a glimpse of the Bosporus in the distance.  This principal satellite, if you will, of an Embassy is called a Consulate General, a designation separating it from any other Posts within the Mission in a country.  In Turkey we have the Embassy (Ankara), the Consulate General (Istanbul), and a Consulate in the southeastern city of Adana.
 
Here in Istanbul, I am the Cultural Attaché in the Public Affairs Section.  Public Affairs has two parts, the side that deals with local, international and domestic press and other traditional and social media, and the side that deals with culture:  all levels of education and training, music, art, literature, and other areas of the creative arts.  Under the circumstances, I spend a lot of time staring at, and talking to, small images of people on my computer screen as I meet important existing contacts, make new contacts, talk to program participants, and monitor grants and grantees.  Once the pandemic is finally behind us, then I will do much the same, although I’ll monitor the grants and meet in person the people who help us carry out the strategic goals of the United States.
 
I am convinced that I have the best job in the entire Mission.

2020:  Uff da
These past few months in-country have been quite strange and extraordinary, as it no doubt has been for all of us who represent the United States all over the world.  Very little has been left untouched by this novel coronavirus, and we are no exception.  Infections and deaths in Turkey were quite high in April and May, and then the spread slowed over the summer as efforts to flatten the curve took effect.  Like many places, once the restrictions and efforts loosened in the late summer and early fall, the numbers went in the wrong direction, requiring their reinstatement.  Now the numbers are on a slight downward trajectory, and while my colleagues and I have been ‘free to move about the cabin’ within Turkey, I have yet to really take advantage of that, given the risks involved.  I have three years to get out and about, and would rather be a bit more cautious right now.  This incredible city offers no end of things to see, and so for the time being I’ll simply take this opportunity to explore a few of the historic sites, quaint streets and colorful neighborhoods of Istanbul. 

                                                                                                               
2020 certainly seems to be one for the record books, what with the confluence of major domestic and international events and challenges.  In the middle of all the craziness in the larger world, I was completing language training in preparation to come to Turkey, and our stuff had to get organized and packed into four separate lots:  The packers came for my air freight in mid-July, then returned in mid-August for Kate’s air freight, as well as separate lots for any household effects designated to come to Turkey (which go by land and sea), and any remaining household effects which are designated for storage on the East Coast.  I departed for post in early August, and Kate stayed back in the US to finish up her last month at the library and wait for cooler weather, which is important when traveling with Riley the Wonder Dog.
 
On top of that, we decided to sell our home of 26 years, which necessitated multiple cross-country road trips back to Minnesota at the end of July to prep the house for sale, clean and fix up some things, and to move all of our remaining household goods into storage in Bloomington.  We worked our tails off for two weeks, and then shortly before putting it on the market, a hail storm caused us no small amount of indigestion because the final inspection revealed roof damage, and the entire thing had to be replaced.  Nevertheless, buyers were still interested, the house showed well, and we had a purchase agreement within two days.  Some residual damage inside the house remains, but we’re working with the insurance company to get it fixed, and the buyers are flexible about what must yet be done.
 
On one of those cross-country trips, Sophie moved back to Minnesota. (She had her own cross-country trip when she drove out to Virginia in May to live with us after being furloughed from her job with the Minnesota Historical Society.)  So amidst prepping our home for sale, we also packed her up and moved her into an apartment in St Paul, where she recently landed a new full-time job with Fairview Health Services in their credentialing department.
 
I flew back to Virginia for a few days prior to my departure for Turkey, and Kate drove back a week or so later to finish working at the library, and also to finalize our move out of the apartment in Arlington.  Given that temperatures for traveling with the dog would still be quite warm in early September, she decided to stay into the fall a bit longer, but then needed to live somewhere, so she moved in with Tommy and Jenna, who at the moment remain the most residentially stable among us.  She made another cross-country trip to Madison in mid-September to stay with her mom, where she is staying for the time being.
 
Not to be outdone, in September my parents moved from their home of 54 years to a nice apartment not far from where they’ve been my entire life.
 
Suffice it to say, we’ve had transition in spades this year, and frankly, I’d prefer to stop the tilt-a-whirl and get off.

Until Next Time:  Görüsürüz!

Despite being apart at the moment, and the outright craziness of 2020, our family is healthy and safe, and that's all that really matters.  We hope you can say the same.  Stay in touch, and be well.

-30-

 

The nazar boncuğu, sometimes called the “evil eye,” is a common symbol in Turkey and the region.  It is often displayed in the home to ward off bad luck and evil spirits and as a symbol of new beginnings.

The opinions expressed within are my own and not those of the U.S. Government.

Please do not disseminate widely without permission.

August Missive from Mesopotamia

A Missive from Mesopotamia

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A portion of the Ishtar Gate in the National Museum of Iraq in Baghdad signifying one of the entrances to ancient inner city of Babylon.  Built during the reign of King Nebuchadnezzar II in the 7th century BCE, the original gate is in a museum in Germany.

Welcome to “Fiery August”! / ab al-lehab /  !آب اللهَّـاب

So you might recall it gets hot here.  Approximately 75 days in-country and the daytime high temperature still has yet to dip below 100 F.  And now we’re in August, which – as noted above – is a month considered hot enough that Iraqis have a special name for it.

It’s so hot during the day that my eyeballs can feel the effect.  You know that feeling in winter when you’ve been out in the cold – but not the bitter, deadly cold – having fun in the snow, and you come inside to a nice, toasty warm house and you have that kind of mild burning sensation on your skin as you warm up?  Yeah, that’s how my eyeballs feel.  Every day.

But remember:  It’s a dry heat. 

The Payoff

Recently I shared some rather harrowing, and sometimes poignant, anecdotes from Fulbright scholar applicants.  You both asked about the applicants and whether or not they were accepted, and unfortunately I don’t know.  That was the extent of my role in the Fulbright program here at post, screening applications.  My specific role here is broadly twofold:  I have the public engagement portfolio (supervising the management of six American Corners around Iraq, which are small library-like places housed in public libraries or on university campuses; to engage with our large network of US exchange program alumni of about 7000 people; and to manage our professional speakers program); and I have the cultural heritage portfolio, which involves oversight of grants from the Ambassador’s Fund for Cultural Heritage, oversight of the $1.2 million grant for the Future of Babylon Project, and engagement with senior government officials and leaders of cultural organizations.

But several questions have arisen as a result of the stories told by the Fulbright applicants, involving the upfront costs and whether or not such programs are worthwhile.  Maybe you don’t need to be convinced of the value of such programs because you understand the intrinsic, non-monetary value of educational and cultural exchanges.  But besides those positive elements, which are real and powerful, the United States definitely receives financial and other benefits from such programs, and such programs actually fit very nicely within the framework of US foreign policy and national security goals.

The idea of exchanges sponsored by the US federal government goes back to the years of WWII when Nelson Rockefeller proposed a program to bring 130 journalists from Latin America to the United States.  Then in 1948, Congress passed the Smith-Mundt Act, which intended to “promote a better understanding of the United States in other countries, and to increase mutual understanding.”  In 1961 Congress passed the Mutual Educational and Cultural Exchange Act (known as the Fulbright-Hays Act), which established a program “to strengthen the ties which unite us with other nations by demonstrating the educational and cultural interests, developments and achievements of the people of the United States and other nations.”

In the case of most exchange programs State offers, the bulk of the funds are provided by Congress annually as part of the federal budget (other funding and in-kind resources come from foreign countries and NGOs); exchanges themselves are supported and carried out by many public and private organizations in the US and abroad; the 500 or so employees of the Bureau of Educational and Cultural Affairs (ECA) in Washington are responsible for the oversight and administration of the “backroom” of exchange programs; and Public Affairs Sections at US Embassies and Consulates abroad manage the overseas portions of the programs.

Most of these exchanges – and there are dozens of them sponsored by the State Department – are organized and managed by ECA (the bureau where I was working prior to coming to Baghdad).  The entire annual budget appropriated by Congress for ECA was about $630 million dollars in 2017, which indeed is a lot of money.

Some results of that investment over time include:

• Participants from 110+ countries in all 50 US states annually
• 565 heads of government around the world have participated in a State-sponsored exchange program of some kind
• 55,000 participants come to the US (more than 9 million since inception), and 15,000 Americans go abroad, every year
• 105 alumni are Pulitzer Prize winners and 85 are Nobel Prize winners
• 64 alumni became representatives to the UN and 31 head international organizations
• $36 billion was contributed to the US economy by exchange students in 2015-16 alone

When a head of state or the leader of an international organization has spent time living and studying in the US, getting to know the culture and people, traveling around the nation to really get a good sense of who we are, they tend to become pretty good partners for us when they return to their home countries.  And they love to talk about their American experiences, even if decades have passed, for they are formative and often life-changing. 

Here’s one anecdote for your consideration.  Start by thinking of the population of Iraqis most at risk of turning to extremism (young males), and couple that with one young man who shows promise and is willing to take a healthy risk by applying for a State Department sponsored exchange called Between the Lines.  The teen applies and interviews for the program (part of the International Writing Program at the University of Iowa) and is accepted, then applies and interviews for the appropriate visa, and is approved.  He flies off to Iowa City to participate in a two-week creative writing program with other young adults (15 – 18 years of age) from the US and all over the world who speak English, but also their native language (Arabic, Russian, Turkish, or Armenian).  He learns, has fun, makes friends, expands his horizons and returns to Iraq within the last month, writing in his final report

            “This would have never happened without your help.  The Embassy

and Consulate were very helpful with me.  They made this dream of

mine come true.  The people I met there were very nice.  We became

friends immediately after our first conversations, they became more than

a family to me.  …. This program made a huge impact on me.  I learned

a lot and improved my writing skills.  It showed me that the key to

everything is FRIENDSHIP and LOVE.  It changed my WAY OF

THINKING.  Between the Lines was a brilliant, first step to achieve a

bigger dream!  I recommend everybody out there to apply to this

wonderful program next year, it will change you in a very good way!”

And so now, for a relatively small investment, we have a young man here in Iraq who has pretty strong positive feelings about the United States, not to mention about himself and his own country and future.  In addition he’s now an alumni of a State program, and we can stay engaged with him as he grows and matures, engaging him in other programs, and have him promote this and other programs we offer to Iraqi citizens, young and old alike.  Perhaps one day he, too, will be a head of state.

And then there’s the benefit in dollars and cents, which is pretty substantial.

I’d say that’s a pretty solid return on investment, wouldn’t you?

The Day to Day

Most days for me are pretty routine.  I head to my office on my seven-minute (walking) commute and arrive around 800 am.  I do all the things a typical cubicle driver might do (attend and participate in meetings, send and answer emails, plan future programs or events, that sort of thing), it just happens to be at a United States Embassy and often involves engaging with Iraqi populations (officials from the Ministry of Higher Education and Scientific Research, leaders of local NGOs, alumni of US exchange programs, that sort of thing).  We have a small cafeteria in the building where I work, or we can walk across compound to the large full-service cafeteria (creatively called the D-FAC, or Dining FACility) for lunch.  The routine continues until 500 pm or so, and I head back to my apartment to change so I can go swim a few laps or ride the stationary bike.  Dinner at the D-FAC again, a little baseball on Armed Forces Network or perhaps some cribbage (my cribbage partner is here now), and then I’m usually sound asleep by 1030 or 1100.  Wash, rinse, repeat.

I spent some of my free time with this
little project.  :)

Occasionally, however, I’ve had the good fortune to get out “beyond the wire,” off the embassy compound and out into the city.  So far I’ve been out for meetings six or seven times, and in late July was able to get out four times in one week, one of which was a visit to the National Museum of Iraq with my boss where we were scheduled to meet with the Director.  We spent about an hour discussing previous and future areas of cooperation (well, I just sat there as the discussion was entirely in Arabic, but I was essential to the meeting, absolutely essential).  Then we had a private, guided tour of the museum, which was super cool.  It probably helped that in recent years US State Department Cultural Heritage grants paid something like $8 or $9 million dollars to help reconstruct two separate halls within the museum, and further State has spent more than $33 million total toward the training of Iraqi archeologists, preservationists, conservators and museum specialists (among other reconstruction and preservation efforts) throughout the country, and some 3,000+ artifacts have been repatriated to the country, all since 2003.  We are committed to helping Iraq preserve its place in history as the birthplace of the written word, the wheel, and of countless other inventions and innovations. 

Strong Iraqi tea with the Director of
the National Museum of Iraq.

Marble face of a Sumerian woman from about 3000 BCE,
returned to Iraq after being stolen in 2003.

An example of a small clay tablet with the ancient
writing system called cuneiform.

A 'signature' for documents using a carved stone cylinder. 

Small carved masks, the largest of which
is about the size of a golf ball.

Clay tablet of cuneiform explaining
the Pythagorean Theorem.

7-foot tall example of the Code of Hammurabi, carved into black diorite and containing 282 laws, considered one of the first examples of written law.

A small carved face of a woman of substance.

A portion of the Ishtar Gate.

Two of the newly renovated exhibit halls funded in part by US federal government grants.

Last week my good friend/colleague/cribbage partner and I visited a local school for the gifted to see the facility and meet with students.  Another State Department program (the English Access Microscholarship Program) supports the English language education the students receive, mostly in after-school programs.  Normally, you would think a visit to a school might not really be a big thing, but that all changes when REPRESENTATIVES FROM THE EMBASSY are coming.  We might as well have been Ambassadors for all the effort they expended.  We found ourselves in large cafe-gym-a-torium-type facility, large airplane hangar fans and a handful of portable air conditioners trying desperately (and largely failing) to keep the room below 90 degrees, with an audience of about 75 tweens and teens, along with a handful of instructors and parents.  They had organized a whole program for us, which included our having to judge the artwork they had created accompanied by the English they used to describe the work.  And then there was time for us to say a few words and take questions, too. 

It was all very, very nice, and then all of a sudden it got a little uncomfortable, and not just because we were sweating through our clothes.  We were treated to a video compilation of the “Ten most patriotic American songs” on a portable video projector while just the two of us – the honored guests – picked at two enormous pieces of super-sweet sheet cake (each) and enjoyed our Mountain Dew (the kids would get all sugared-up after we left).  Each song was really just a small portion of the song and music video, accompanied by a little explanation.  Finally the video reached the #1 most patriotic song, Lee Greenwood’s God Bless the U.S.A.  In and of itself, not a big deal (other than thinking to ourselves “Who came up with this list??”), and then the narrator dove into the fact that this song really gained in popularity in 1991 during the Gulf War, and that it further increased in popularity in 2003 with the US invasion of Iraq. 

Um, yeah, that was awkward.  Fortunately, it appeared that no one but us could actually hear the narration, or they were so excited about the forthcoming massive sugar high that they weren’t really listening.  We essentially pretended that nothing was out of the ordinary, thanked them for their “warm reception,” and headed out to our waiting armored, air-conditioned Suburbans for the return across town to the embassy. 

The Archbishop of Baghdad

Prior to my arrival, a good friend who had been here in 2017 did an email introduction to a couple of really nice people here at post.  My very first week here these folks emailed to invite me to a small gathering the next Saturday.  Casual and informal, I very much enjoyed meeting Nazar and Wafa, both of whom are Chaldean Catholics and were born and raised in the region (Wafa here in Iraq, and Naz in Kuwait) but moved to the US decades ago and have returned to work at the embassy as contractors through their company.  In addition to Naz and Wafa, the other invitees included the Catholic Archbishop to Iraq Jean-Benjamin Slieman, the Romanian Ambassador to Iraq Iacob Prada and a couple of his employees, a handful of folks from our embassy, and a host of other super interesting people.  (US Ambassador Douglas Silliman and his wife came one evening for a bit as well, which was the first time I had met them.)

Wonderful spread of traditional dishes
prepared by Naz, Wafa and friends.

That first evening together I quite enjoyed myself while we drank wine and snacked on homemade dishes made by Naz and Wafa, all the while chatting and just generally enjoying one another’s company.  Most every Saturday since they have hosted similar gatherings, with a core group that returns for the good food and good company each week, including me.  Naz and Wafa have been on R&R the last few weeks, but the last gathering before they left was particularly fascinating for me.

The Archbishop hasn’t been back for a while, and this last meeting was more like a dinner, albeit a stand-up-and-walk-around dinner.  But the really interesting part was, as you might imagine, the company.  The Romanian Ambassador was back (he’s a total hoot and loves jokes, when he then lets out a contagious laugh that fills the room), but this one also included the Ambassadors from the Czech Republic (Jan Vyčítal), Serbia (Uroš Balov), and Macedonia (whose name I didn’t get), who also happens to be a Major General in the Macedonian military.  All of them are seriously nice people, very friendly and just regular folks; they just happen to be these really important people, and mostly I feel a bit like a fish out of water in their company.  To illustrate how normal they really are, a rather surreal situation developed as I engaged in a fairly in-depth conversation with the Serbian Ambassador about the characters, plot lines and dialogue of the television series Breaking Bad.  All five seasons.  I can say with absolute certainty that the Ambassador is a serious fan.

I sometimes have a hard time taking myself (and my role in this little drama) seriously when hanging around with the likes of such interesting and colorful characters, especially given that just a couple years ago I was teaching high school students about the three branches of government.

Fortress America, Part Deux

Photography on the embassy compound is severely limited, as you might guess.  It’s restricted at all embassies, but particularly here and under current circumstances of relative instability, as security for all of us is a premium commodity.  However, a couple years after the embassy opened, Reuters photographer Lucas Jackson visited and together with the New York Times produced a small slideshow explaining to readers what the most expensive embassy in the world was really like. 

I could just provide you with the link, but instead I’ll reproduce his photos here (sans his captions) so that you, too, can see a bit of what Embassy Baghdad really looks like:

This is the Chancery, the main building of the embassy compound, which houses the ambassador’s office and the offices of several other sections.

This is taken from in front of the Chancery and shows Annex I across the street, which houses the Public Affairs Section where I work, the Consulate, and other sections as well.

The indoor basketball court.  There is also an outdoor court, a sand volleyball court, a small soccer field, and a large grassy area (across the street from Annex I, above) where ultimate Frisbee and other activities are held.

 

One of the two gyms.  This one is on the other side of the dividers shown in the photo of the basketball court, above.  The other one is much larger and more extensive.

The atrium inside the Chancery, which is used for ceremonies and generally is the connective tissue between all

the offices housed within.

The entrance to the D-FAC, the mess hall, the chow hall.  They serve several thousand meals every single day, and nationwide the company which has the contract to provide food for Baghdad and the Consulates in Erbil and Basrah recently served its 25 millionth meal.

The D-FAC.  I have never seen the dining hall look this fancy, and the fruit has never been so artfully displayed.  Capacity is about 400-500, and there are several small “grab-and-go” cafeterias around the compound.

SDAs, or Staff Diplomatic Apartments.  There are six like this, and then there are several other on-compound housing options for contractors and TCNs (Third Country Nationals).  I live in one of the SDAs.

T-Walls, which surround many non-hardened buildings here.  About 20-feet tall, they are designed to shield buildings (and people) vulnerable to incoming gunfire (or worse). 

Tennis courts, which double as a small cricket pitch for the TCNs (or those who descend from cricket-loving countries) who play.  Mostly people play at night after it cools down a bit, say below 100 F.

(In the event you'd like to see the original source of the photos of the embassy and compound, navigate your way here:  https://www.nytimes.com/slideshow/2012/02/07/world/middleeast/20120208-BAGHDAD/s/20120208-BAGHDAD-slide-5QAJ.html )

Thanks For Playing!

It’s been another eventful couple of months here in the Cradle of Civilization, and as we speak (or whatever), I’m prepping for R&R number one back to the family and TGSITU for the Wedding of the Century in about two weeks.  (Please have plenty of sedatives available.)  Tis the season, I suppose, and I have been fortunate to participate virtually in two family weddings in the last two months, which was very bittersweet since I couldn’t be there in person.

And while all of this is going on, we FS-types are hot in the middle of bidding season, which will officially occur shortly after I return from my trip.  We’ll see what happens, but keep your fingers crossed for us, and we’ll let you know what’s next sometime in October.  Stay tuned!

Fortunately for us, we are all well and healthy.  We hope you can say the same.

The opinions expressed within are my own and not those of the U.S. Government.

Please do not disseminate widely without permission.