hello everyone,

I have found myself, living in a shotgun shack, in another part of the world, behind the wheel of a large automobile, and I have asked myself, well, how did I get here? And I have said to myself, my god, what have I done? Really, there are plenty of times when, after nine months, I still have to sniff smelling salts to know that I'm not dreaming all of this. A few recent Baghdad episodes:

~ Now-former Deputy Secretary Richard Armitage came here on New Year's Eve. I was his handler. For those of you who aren't State Dept groupies, Armitage is the huge neckless bald guy who combines brute physical presence with huge intellect. It wasn't like I could have done a lot of handling even if I'd wanted to. His holiday visit created any number of (now) amusing moments, including everyone forgetting the hour time difference between Amman and Baghdad, and momentarily losing his plane.

Then there was the mis-scheduled meeting (“What do you mean Friday? I didn't ask for a meeting on Friday. I need a meeting on Saturday.”) that led to me and my boss standing out in the cold, late at night, banging on the metal gate of a certain Iraqi political party headquarters, trying to find someone who could speak our languages, begging them to find a working phone to call someone who could call someone else who could ask someone to change the meeting. The visit also put Armitage in my office at 10:30 on New Year's Eve, a beer in one hand and maybe a cigar in the other waiting while three peons tried three different phone systems in hopes of getting through to a certain Iraqi leader that Armitage really needed to talk to right then. Oh, to be a world leader.

~ My favorite Iraqi politician is Baghdad Governor Ali Fadhil. Ali has been working with the local councils ever since US troops first arrived. He worked his way up to Provincial Council chairman, then was elected governor after the last one was killed. Ali is smart, energetic, committed, and an increasingly good politician. His party may have gotten only 982 votes in the election, but since then he's done a great job of working connections to meet with major leaders, including Sistani, in hopes of keeping his job even though the Islamic parties that crushed him in the election will dominate the new Provincial Council.

Shortly after my India trip, I was in his office. He wanted to know everything about India. He was almost as disappointed as I was that I hadn't gotten to ride an elephant. I gave him a little Ganesh, explaining that Ganesh is the remover of obstacles and would help with his general safety and well-being. We joked about this for a minute or two, until his phone rang. Gunmen had just gone into his other office and killed one of the council members. The victim had called Ali earlier that day and asked for a meeting. Ali told him that he didn't have time, and said they'd have to try again in a few days.

The sad truth is that this happens so often to most Iraqis that bad news barely slows them down. Of course some deaths hit harder than others, but mostly they don't have time to stop and mourn each one. I was talking about this with an Iraqi colleague after a memorial service for another of our colleagues who had been assassinated because of his embassy job. Firas said that he doesn't think that people of his generation (he's my age) will ever recover their ability to feel death in the way that most people in the world do.

~ We were sitting in Amb Negroponte's office a few days ago. After we finished whatever we were really talking about, my boss asked the Ambassador if he had time for one more topic. To which Negroponte replies “You can have as much time as you want. It's not like I'm doing anything. I'm just sitting around waiting for a new government to form.”

This is true. Negroponte may be one of the 4 or 5 most influential people in Iraq, but he, and therefore we, is not involved in this government selection process. We are talking to people, asking questions, trying to figure out what they're thinking, reporting back to DC. We may even have our own favorites. But we are not involved in the process. Honestly. Iraqis come to us and ask, what do you think about this person for that job? And we say, look, we don't care. It's your government and we'll work with whomever you select. So select someone good. This charge goes for our own government, too, as it selects Negroponte's replacement. We will be lucky to get a new ambassador who is as restrained as he has been. [We don't know when Negroponte is leaving or who will replace him. For the moment, he's still here.]

~ A small craft beer maker from StL donated five shipping containers of Bud, Bud Light, and Bud Ice to the boys and girls of the 1st Calvary Division, who are serving on the front lines of democracy. Unfortunately, they can't drink beer (see General Order #1) while serving on the front lines of democracy. Fortunately, they've done their year in the desert and are preparing to go home, where they can drink beer.

After briefly considering destroying the beer (born on dated November 2004), 1st Cav remembered that there are a whole bunch of civilians in Baghdad who aren't covered by General Order #1. So they parked the trucks in a cul-de-sac, which was soon jammed with everyone who got the news. They flung open the door and let people take as much as they could carry. We POL and ECON weenies pulled up in a SUV and a Taurus, loaded up 50 free cases, and sped off before anyone changed his mind or belayed an order. It's been too cold for Budweiser, but the heat is coming fast, and in another week or two it will taste good.

So you see, all's well in Baghdad. I'm not telling you that the war's over or anything like that, but I will say that things aren't as bad as they've been at the really bad times.

My time is coming to an end. The Baghdad donut says that I have 66 days to go, but who's counting (other than my grandmother)??

See you soon. Wish you were here.
Rob