Back to Baghdad, into the fire...

Hi everyone,

I arrived in Baghdad safely yesterday afternoon with our new delegation
and Bob after a very long and pretty exhausting 3 days of travel (about 12
hours' sleep in 5 days). I was asleep most of that afternoon/evening and
all night until 7 this morning. Bob didn't get up at his usual 5 am
either. The delegation, which got exactly 2 hours of sleep between the
flight and the car trip in, retired pretty early themselves.

It was good to be back among friends in Amman as well at our usual hostel
near the bus station. My coffee man recognized me as usual, and was happy
to see me headed back to Baghdad. He was busy telling all the surrounding
taxi drivers "this is the girl who speaks Arabic and lives in Hebron and
Baghdad!" Awww. Jamil at the hotel called me the 'Queen of peace.' I
laughed. I can only be the princess of peace, I told him. (Sister) Anne
Montgomery, at 77 this year, is still the queen of peace, and I give her
another 30 years left to reign! Fortunately, he agrees.

I was overcome with emotion at seeing the first lightening moments of
sunrise just as we approached the Iraqi border. It's happened several
times now. Coming to Iraq is coming home, not just as a peace worker but
as a human being returning to the origins of civilization itself.

At the Jordanian side of the border, we had an hour's wait to process our
passports. I noticed another group of foreigners besides us. I went over
to make friends, partly to keep myself warm while standing in the bitter
cold of a waning desert night. [My other option was the smoke-filled
waiting room, which was quickly making me ill]. It turns out the other
group was an international evangelical missionary group. Ah, I said.
They will be here two weeks. One couple even brought along their baby.
They said they had some aid materials with them, and a lot of literature.
I decided not to exchange addresses. Apparently, the unknown Christian
organization which was ambushed last week near Babylon were on a
proselytizing mission also. Missionaries offend not only Iraqi Muslims
but the indigenous Christian community as well, whom they tend to ignore
rather than support. Proselytizers also tend to ignore local customs
enough to create even more problems for indigenous Christians'
relationships with their neighbors. I did not realize until hearing from
a peace activist who lives stateside that Bush had publicly stated his
hopes missionaries would come to Iraq and begin converting as soon as we'd
taken it over. Thanks, Bush, this was one kind of help Iraqis definitely
did not need. In the meantime, I give all of you permission to worry
about this group's safety rather than mine for the time they are here.
They clearly are unfamiliar with the situation, do not have local contacts
nor invitation, and are in grave danger.

--

There are still several bombed-out Iraqi cars left along the highway, on
top of bridges, etc. The Americans leave these carcasses while they
promptly remove their own. [the tell-tale burn mark of an ambushed Humvee
is still visible to those looking for it]. As I've written before, the
military does this to prop up its own morale while undermining that of the
insurgency. It is part of the psychological war that is winning neither
the hearts nor the minds of the Iraqi people.

We traveled to Baghdad in a two-car caravan. I rode with Sattar's
brother, the driver of the car which had the blowout and rollover in which
George was killed. As the day brightened, I could finally see the
interior of the vehicle and it slowly dawned on me that this was the same
car. I remember standing beside it after everyone was out and looking
inside over a year ago. The vehicle itself was barely scratched--only the
window next to George had been broken, probably when he was thrown out.

There are some other details I noticed which were pretty grisly and will
not write about here. It is hard to erase all the signs of a fatal car
accident, though the repairs were done surprisingly well. I noticed
immediately that Razak has lost a lot of weight since the accident. He is
quite shy, and it is hard to talk to him. I wonder what it does to him to
continue driving this car. He saved five of us, but was devastated over
George. Still, I am aware that in Iraq, one cannot simply be rid of a
vehicle with tragic memories. It is a matter of survival to keep the car
going, to provide income. I was glad to be the only one in the vehicle
with this knowledge, and to be sitting in the seat where George was. I
don't think I will tell anyone else from the accident, the team, or this
delegation.

As we drove, I also noted the thousands of US brand tires, peeled apart in
blowouts just as we all saw on the Ford Explorers during the recall,
littering the sides of the road, a painful reminder not just to us, I am
sure. How long will it be before Iraq can protect herself from the greed
of other nations, and its role as dumping grounds for unsafe products and
the leftovers of recalls?

I sat behind someone in the car who is particularly adept at remembering
quotes. One thought-provoker she had was, "We don't support police
officers by committing crimes. We don't support firefighters by lighting
fires, either. Whatever made us think we 'support our troops' by
supporting war?" When our society quickly and exclusively equates the
latter with one another, I found this a gem for cutting through the crap
of it all.

Speaking of 'crap,' as it were, I am sad to say that much of what I
presented to you of the documented human rights abuses we saw on team this
fall seem mild compared to what our team has seen since. I feel a little
nauseous thinking about it all just yet. It may be a long spring.
Perhaps it will be a good thing I am fasting and therefore not eating too
much this Lent.

A long trek allows for some good reading. I cruised through Al Franken's
_Lies and the Lying Liars That Tell Them_, which I expected to be
entertaining but I did not expect it to be so well-researched and
intelligent. I strongly recommend it as a commentary of our country's
media and administration. Now I have temporarily switched books with Bob
and am onto the _Da Vinci Code_. I heard plenty about it while I was
home, and voila! It appears in my hands when I least expect it. Looking
forward to intriguing reading.

In our team apartment, we were gifted with a stunning book on the US
occupations of Iraq and Afghanistan, complete with pictures and numerous
reflections. I don't have the details with me, but I can see already it
is a sobering must-read. I will pass that on soon. Viggo Mortenson even
contributed a piece to it. I guess when he's not busy being Lord of the
Rings, he exhibits a social conscience. I am impressed, now for reasons
beyond looking good in elven-cloaks. (ha ha)

I need to return to the office now, on Sunday, to meet an Iraqi human
rights worker who has cases of Iraqi women detained indefinitely in Abu
Ghraib. Some are students, others are human rights workers themselves. I
am jumping straight into the fire today.

peace to you,

Le Anne