Leaving the Middle East; All Signs Point to Baghdad
Posted by: kasun in Jordan, educationMy travelogue posing as an educational blogspace is almost finito. I will now conclude everything I have learned about the Middle East in the following paragraphs.
C’mon! You knew it wasn’t true. Instead, I’m offering three sets of exchanges with folks I met in my last few days traveling. The connecting theme is, if you haven’t already guessed–Baghdad. Reader beware–I am not an expert on the Iraq war, so these are only observations of my conversations.
Going to Baghdad
At the campsite at Wadi Rum a few days ago, an energetic man about my age approached me as I was writing and asked, “Are you Dutch?” His face fell a bit when I told him I wasn’t. He had mistaken me for an airline attendant when he looked at me (curiously, this happened to me twice in Tel Aviv as well… I’m beginning to wonder if I didn’t miss my calling). He used to work exclusively as a tour organizer for KLM Airlines (recently purchased by Air France). He made good money, he said, and he loved the people he worked with. I guess he was hoping to relive a memory at the sight of me.
In any event, Air France no longer flies routes that the people he worked with travel. So, thanks to globalization and other forces, he no longer has a job. He described conditions in Jordan as difficult if you didn’t have the right connections (he used an Arabic word which I translated to the Spanish palancas–somehow it carries more weight in Spanish). So he sought work in Dubai, and no luck. Then he went to Baghdad to interview with the American Embassy. They offered about $1300 US per month plus living expenses (a pittance compared to what Americans would make, and he knows it, but it’s better than the $500 US he would earn in Jordan).
Mario, as he called himself, was perplexed abou whether to accept the post. He had a private conversation with an embassy driver in Baghdad who described how four Filipinos were killed in the “safe” caravan the embassy assured him he would travel in. We talked a few times about his job possibilities between jokes he shared about politics. He looked so serious, and he seemed to be searching my face for some reassurance. I didn’t know what to tell him. After sleeping on it, I decided that, statistically, he probably wouldn’t die, but he was sure to know others that would if he stayed on long enough. I asked him how he would cope, and he said he planned to both lose a lot of weight and drink plenty. I wished him well.
Leaving Baghdad
Last night at the Amman airport, I had a bit of time to kill and paid for some Internet time. A younger man in a suit with kind eyes seemed not to understand how to work the computers, so I told him he could have the remaining time on my account. Turns out he has recently left Baghdad himself, an Iraqi. His dad he said, was killed by militia there. I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to express sympathy and say that I knew what it was to lose a father, but then I thought that I had no idea what it was to lose one that way, so I expressed condolences for the war and his loss.
Mustaffah, as he introduced himself, said he wasn’t bothered and was trying to work for the US military. He had spent several months under some sort of UN protection in Beirut and was hoping to be trained in the US. Inshallah (God willing), he said. I couldn’t understand how his eyes could be so bright with the future he might be facing.
Taking a break from Baghdad
I don’t know the last man’s name, but I spent almost nine hours next to him on my flight from Frankfurt to DC today. I asked him if he was on the Amman flight, as there were several men in their casual army clothes with high and tight haircuts on my first flight. Nope. He had flown in from Kuwait. “Oh, not so bad,” I offered. “Nope, I came from Baghdad,” he answered.
He’s working with the engineers who are trying to rebuild the country. “Everything we build, the Iraqis blow up as soon as we finish,” he said. He seemed discouraged and would be returning to Baghdad in two weeks. He had been in the first Iraq war and has done several tours, waiting out for three more years to finish his 20 year career. He was exhausted and slept a lot. He flinched incessantly through his sleep, and I wondered what toll these wars have had on him. He said his next tour is to Afghanistan. Hardly any better, I thought.
I’m struck by how many lives are affected (even terminated) by this war. Somehow looking at the “Faces of the Fallen” (all US soldiers killed in the wars) in the Washington Post isn’t the same as hearing the real stories on the ground.
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