VROOOOOOOOOOOOM... Pow pow pow pow pow!
That's the sound we're hearing outside today. It's the sound of the Phalanx system being tested. Those are the big guns positioned around the base that shoot down incoming rockets and mortars. They fire about 150 rounds per second, coating the sky with rather large bullets, in an attempt to blow up whatever is coming in before it hits anything. To prevent massive civilian casualties on what would be the termination of the bullets' arc, they explode mid-air after a few seconds. If you see them fire at night it looks like lasers beams going across the sky. Pretty cool. They are very loud, though, if you happen to be standing nearby.
Anyway, that was the big excitement for the afternoon.
In other exciting news (and this may be exciting only to Scott), more and more magazines are working bar codes into their advertisements, and then people can use smart phones to scan them and get more information.
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/01/11/business/media/11mag.html
And for Ian, here are some things the cafeteria served for lunch today:
Chicken
Mashed potatoes
Chicken wings
Curry
Salad
Rolls
Jello
Soda
Cookies
And finally for Andy, I'm reading a new book.
Happy Monday, everyone!
Monday, January 11, 2010
Baghdad Sun
It's January 11 and 70 degrees outside. This is not the chilly Baghdad winter I remember. Amen to that. My lumberjack flannel seems slightly out of place considering, but it keeps me warm in the office A/C.
Work is progressing nicely today. After a week of relative scrambling, things are all caught up, I've figured out how this all works, and this week should be leisurely. Next up: ideas on how to improve the program. Our military command turns over in a couple weeks, so it's time to impress the new guys!
And not two minutes ago, thanks to Dave Henning, three packages arrived full of cookies, sheets, and other goodies. I'm going to run out of room in my trailer! Thanks, Dave!
Alright, back to editing. I hope Ivan is appeased for now.
Work is progressing nicely today. After a week of relative scrambling, things are all caught up, I've figured out how this all works, and this week should be leisurely. Next up: ideas on how to improve the program. Our military command turns over in a couple weeks, so it's time to impress the new guys!
And not two minutes ago, thanks to Dave Henning, three packages arrived full of cookies, sheets, and other goodies. I'm going to run out of room in my trailer! Thanks, Dave!
Alright, back to editing. I hope Ivan is appeased for now.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Whoa, Nelly!
Hello loyal blog readers! Time for your latest view into my ego-centric world.
It's been a few days in case you haven't noticed. In that time I've done several things:
1) Sat at a coffee house in the Kuwait airport. There is nothing like that airport to make you feel reflective. This time through, I thought, "Wow, here I am again. Huh." The coffee house is actually very good -- they sprinkle cocoa bean shapes onto the foam with chocolate powder -- but I have sat there before reading my book and drinking hot chocolate, and it was weird, if familiar, sitting there again. Getting on the plane to Baghdad wasn't so difficult at that point, though, since I was mostly just tired. I'm looking forward to seeing the inside of that airport again because some day I'm certain I will get the routine down pat. Hopefully next time I can experience it from the first class lounge.
2) Flew to Baghdad on Gryphon Air. This was an enjoyable experience. Before this was on a prop plane with very, very small seats. This time through it was a jet with nice, big, leather seats. I guess they've been successful flying contractors to and fro. I met two other contractors on their way in, and one guy I've seen around in the cafeteria. He would be the closest thing I've made to a friend here outside of the office, and that is not saying much. I'm also looking forward to the next trip on Gryphon because it means I will be going back to the U.S., and I just enjoy the experience. Oh, for you lunar watchers, there was a nice blue moon visible on the way in. Actually, it was a very red moon, but I'm told the phase made it blue. Now you know.
3) Arrived in Baghdad and met some teammates. Not having any idea who to expect, I waited briefly around the airport until someone yelled my name. Then I met Luis and Gerard, my replacee and our IT guy, and they drove me to my trailer home. Gerard talks a lot. Luis, whose trailer I'm crashing in while he's away, told me when we got home that Gerard is a talker. He has proved correct. Today Gerard must've talked for a good five hours. It's a good thing, though. Not talking much myself, someone needs to.
4) Explored my trailer. It is at least a double-wide, so very big. I shared with Luis for two days until he left, and now it's my own. I have a bed, a big wall locker, a nightstand, chair, shelves, lamp, and a lot of space of my own. He has also fitted the room with a stocked bookshelf, unused TV, unused fridge, and a big rug. Overall it is nice. It is very, very, very far away from the office though, in an area called Pad 11. It's on a side of the base I hadn't explored much before, so not near the palace. It's a 12-15 minute drive to work, and despite having three cars for the team, we need to share. That means we do everything together: Luis (when he is here), Gerard, and Omar (Omar is our editor). I eat every meal with them, and I drive home with them. They are nice, but it could grate not having a lot of flexibility to explore the stuff I like on base, or even stay late at work without the hassle of dropping people off. Or meeting anyone else.
5) Met the rest of the team. They are a group of Iraqi-Americans who are really nice and fun. They are more fun than me. Hopefully they don't think I'm boring. Apparently I'm 50,000x better than the old project manager though, because 90 percent of our conversation thus far has been about what an evil person he was. It's weird. Everyone seems to have really, sincerely hated him. So I'm looking good in comparison! The Army folks we work with transfer out in a few weeks, so it will be interesting to see how their replacements are.
6) Explored the office. It is on the good side of base, but somewhat isolated in a corner so that they can stay low profile. If there was time to leave during the day I would say it's a nice location, but so far I've been behind schedule and stuck more or less inside. When we do leave it's to eat or go to the store, and of course that happens with Gerard and Omar. Good thing I like them. Someday soon I aim to branch out and walk somewhere. It will happen, I just know it.
And that, for now, is all. I'm done tired out. Next up in the self-centered chronicles will be about work and changes on Camp Victory. (We're a thriving community!)
Good night to all!
Love,
Tim
It's been a few days in case you haven't noticed. In that time I've done several things:
1) Sat at a coffee house in the Kuwait airport. There is nothing like that airport to make you feel reflective. This time through, I thought, "Wow, here I am again. Huh." The coffee house is actually very good -- they sprinkle cocoa bean shapes onto the foam with chocolate powder -- but I have sat there before reading my book and drinking hot chocolate, and it was weird, if familiar, sitting there again. Getting on the plane to Baghdad wasn't so difficult at that point, though, since I was mostly just tired. I'm looking forward to seeing the inside of that airport again because some day I'm certain I will get the routine down pat. Hopefully next time I can experience it from the first class lounge.
2) Flew to Baghdad on Gryphon Air. This was an enjoyable experience. Before this was on a prop plane with very, very small seats. This time through it was a jet with nice, big, leather seats. I guess they've been successful flying contractors to and fro. I met two other contractors on their way in, and one guy I've seen around in the cafeteria. He would be the closest thing I've made to a friend here outside of the office, and that is not saying much. I'm also looking forward to the next trip on Gryphon because it means I will be going back to the U.S., and I just enjoy the experience. Oh, for you lunar watchers, there was a nice blue moon visible on the way in. Actually, it was a very red moon, but I'm told the phase made it blue. Now you know.
3) Arrived in Baghdad and met some teammates. Not having any idea who to expect, I waited briefly around the airport until someone yelled my name. Then I met Luis and Gerard, my replacee and our IT guy, and they drove me to my trailer home. Gerard talks a lot. Luis, whose trailer I'm crashing in while he's away, told me when we got home that Gerard is a talker. He has proved correct. Today Gerard must've talked for a good five hours. It's a good thing, though. Not talking much myself, someone needs to.
4) Explored my trailer. It is at least a double-wide, so very big. I shared with Luis for two days until he left, and now it's my own. I have a bed, a big wall locker, a nightstand, chair, shelves, lamp, and a lot of space of my own. He has also fitted the room with a stocked bookshelf, unused TV, unused fridge, and a big rug. Overall it is nice. It is very, very, very far away from the office though, in an area called Pad 11. It's on a side of the base I hadn't explored much before, so not near the palace. It's a 12-15 minute drive to work, and despite having three cars for the team, we need to share. That means we do everything together: Luis (when he is here), Gerard, and Omar (Omar is our editor). I eat every meal with them, and I drive home with them. They are nice, but it could grate not having a lot of flexibility to explore the stuff I like on base, or even stay late at work without the hassle of dropping people off. Or meeting anyone else.
5) Met the rest of the team. They are a group of Iraqi-Americans who are really nice and fun. They are more fun than me. Hopefully they don't think I'm boring. Apparently I'm 50,000x better than the old project manager though, because 90 percent of our conversation thus far has been about what an evil person he was. It's weird. Everyone seems to have really, sincerely hated him. So I'm looking good in comparison! The Army folks we work with transfer out in a few weeks, so it will be interesting to see how their replacements are.
6) Explored the office. It is on the good side of base, but somewhat isolated in a corner so that they can stay low profile. If there was time to leave during the day I would say it's a nice location, but so far I've been behind schedule and stuck more or less inside. When we do leave it's to eat or go to the store, and of course that happens with Gerard and Omar. Good thing I like them. Someday soon I aim to branch out and walk somewhere. It will happen, I just know it.
And that, for now, is all. I'm done tired out. Next up in the self-centered chronicles will be about work and changes on Camp Victory. (We're a thriving community!)
Good night to all!
Love,
Tim
Sunday, January 3, 2010
The Big Gray Cat
Almost forgot to mention... Not ten minutes ago, as I was writing the last post, a person in a big gray cat costume shuffled lazily through the lobby. It looked like Sylvester Cat from Loony Tunes, but gray, not black. It just walked back out now and gave a wave. So that was nice.
The Rib Eye Steak House
Good afternoon from the lobby of the Crowne Plaza Kuwait,
I have to get in these specific place names while I can because pretty soon the only descriptors will be "tent," "office," and "trailer." For now, this lobby is very attractive, reasonably international, and characteristically (for Kuwait) dreamlike.
After dutifully checking out of my room at noon, I needed to kill 6 hours. The bellhop has my luggage, a shuttle runs to the airport every half hour, and so I was left with my laptop, my book ("As Meat Loves Salt"), and lunch. There are eight restaurants here in the hotel -- Kuwaitis don't have much to do with life, so there are a lot of nice restaurants everywhere -- but I was intimidated by most of them, so I settled on the warm, American-looking Rib Eye Steak House.
The restaurant opens at noon, and at 12:05 I was their first and only customer. The nice cowboy-hatted and booted Thai hostess, Maria, showed me to a booth -- all leather and wood, with whips and horns on the wall -- and I got to browse the selection of nachos, steaks, and mocktails. While I will get plenty of underwhelming American food in Iraq, I did enjoy the familiarity of the menu, plus the restaurant was free of Kuwaiti women lunching, who I find scary.
So lunch was French onion soup (to keep up my recent spree), a chicken sandwich, and two lattes. I tried to stop at one latte, but the waiter insisted I take my time and have another. Good thing, too, because otherwise I would've missed the rendition of "Happy Birthday" sung to the table behind me by Maria and the guy waiter. It featured some half-hearted clapping, which seemed perfectly reasonable for a birthday celebrated mid-afternoon in a hotel lobby.
After two and a half hours, I felt it my duty to vacate my booth, both since the restaurant was beginning to fill up, and my body hurt from sitting there. So now I'm 100 feet away, sitting at the Fauchon Paris "Le Cafe" in the lobby, recharging my laptop battery, killing more time, and having a nice cup of tea. The wait staff here is not so nice as their friends across the lobby, though.
Soon I will collect my bags from the bellhop (two hours after I'd told him), jump on the shuttle, make my way to the airport, and there be assaulted by the economically and socially unfortunate class of airport porters who work mostly for tips and probably have a very difficult life. You're only supposed to pay them 35 somethings (some form of Kuwaiti cent), but I don't have change, so I will give them 1 KD. Except only giving one seems cheap, so I will probably give two, but because of the exchange rate that equals around $8. On the other hand, my one bag is very heavy.
The last bit of the adventure will involve actually checking in for the flight to Baghdad. I have never taken it this direction before where I'm coming in without a connection. It's a charter flight rather than a real airline, and so I'm not sure if there's a counter or what. Conveniently there is an American liaison running around the airport in his distinctive red polo, but I'm not sure he's all that helpful based on our brief conversation last night. Oh well, I'm sure I'll get there somehow.
Once on the ground in Baghdad, I'm supposed to be met by this guy Luis who I'm filling in for while he's on leave. In the few brief emails we've exchanged, he doesn't seem very communicative. He's the fellow who is supposed to train me on everything, and either he's disagreeable or very busy, and either way doesn't seem good, but maybe I'll be surprised. Anyway, at this time tomorrow I expect to be immersed in computers, translations and dust, and probably looking forward to bed.
Happy Sunday to all!
Love,
Tim
I have to get in these specific place names while I can because pretty soon the only descriptors will be "tent," "office," and "trailer." For now, this lobby is very attractive, reasonably international, and characteristically (for Kuwait) dreamlike.
After dutifully checking out of my room at noon, I needed to kill 6 hours. The bellhop has my luggage, a shuttle runs to the airport every half hour, and so I was left with my laptop, my book ("As Meat Loves Salt"), and lunch. There are eight restaurants here in the hotel -- Kuwaitis don't have much to do with life, so there are a lot of nice restaurants everywhere -- but I was intimidated by most of them, so I settled on the warm, American-looking Rib Eye Steak House.
The restaurant opens at noon, and at 12:05 I was their first and only customer. The nice cowboy-hatted and booted Thai hostess, Maria, showed me to a booth -- all leather and wood, with whips and horns on the wall -- and I got to browse the selection of nachos, steaks, and mocktails. While I will get plenty of underwhelming American food in Iraq, I did enjoy the familiarity of the menu, plus the restaurant was free of Kuwaiti women lunching, who I find scary.
So lunch was French onion soup (to keep up my recent spree), a chicken sandwich, and two lattes. I tried to stop at one latte, but the waiter insisted I take my time and have another. Good thing, too, because otherwise I would've missed the rendition of "Happy Birthday" sung to the table behind me by Maria and the guy waiter. It featured some half-hearted clapping, which seemed perfectly reasonable for a birthday celebrated mid-afternoon in a hotel lobby.
After two and a half hours, I felt it my duty to vacate my booth, both since the restaurant was beginning to fill up, and my body hurt from sitting there. So now I'm 100 feet away, sitting at the Fauchon Paris "Le Cafe" in the lobby, recharging my laptop battery, killing more time, and having a nice cup of tea. The wait staff here is not so nice as their friends across the lobby, though.
Soon I will collect my bags from the bellhop (two hours after I'd told him), jump on the shuttle, make my way to the airport, and there be assaulted by the economically and socially unfortunate class of airport porters who work mostly for tips and probably have a very difficult life. You're only supposed to pay them 35 somethings (some form of Kuwaiti cent), but I don't have change, so I will give them 1 KD. Except only giving one seems cheap, so I will probably give two, but because of the exchange rate that equals around $8. On the other hand, my one bag is very heavy.
The last bit of the adventure will involve actually checking in for the flight to Baghdad. I have never taken it this direction before where I'm coming in without a connection. It's a charter flight rather than a real airline, and so I'm not sure if there's a counter or what. Conveniently there is an American liaison running around the airport in his distinctive red polo, but I'm not sure he's all that helpful based on our brief conversation last night. Oh well, I'm sure I'll get there somehow.
Once on the ground in Baghdad, I'm supposed to be met by this guy Luis who I'm filling in for while he's on leave. In the few brief emails we've exchanged, he doesn't seem very communicative. He's the fellow who is supposed to train me on everything, and either he's disagreeable or very busy, and either way doesn't seem good, but maybe I'll be surprised. Anyway, at this time tomorrow I expect to be immersed in computers, translations and dust, and probably looking forward to bed.
Happy Sunday to all!
Love,
Tim
Kuwait Limbo Revisited
Greetings again!
The flight from Doha to Kuwait was comfortable and uneventful. The Kuwait airport was (typically) uncomfortable and chaotic, and it's unclear how I will actually check in for my flight tomorrow evening, but for the time being I am comfortably ensconced in a hotel by the airport. There are eight restaurants here, and chances are good I while try one of them tomorrow. A boy's got to eat.
The Kuwaiti system of visas and customs is weird. You have to get a tourist visa to leave the airport, but they don't actually ever explain that; you just need to know. So I went to buy one and it costs 3 KD, which is equal to about $11. They don't take credit or U.S. dollars, so I had to go to an ATM and get KD. Then the lady said she couldn't make change, so I needed to go to this pasta place in the food court (I'm fond of this pasta place and will likely go there again tomorrow. It's tradition.) to make change. And then things went fine until customs, where there were four massive lines that didn't move. One of the lines was for an empty counter where it seemed certain an employee had been and would come back to, but no... So I switched lines, met two American heading to Iraq and Afghanistan, and then suddenly we all got waived to a third line where the customs agent just waived us through. So one cab ride later, with all my luggage intact, I'm at the hotel.
Tomorrow I've got to check out by 12, then kill time either in the hotel or at the airport until 7, then off to Baghdad for adventure and the unknown, but not for dinner since it will be closed. Fat Camp starts then!
And now it is off to bed. Again (sort of).
Enjoy your weekends, and belated happy anniversary to Andy, Drew, Mom, and Dad. And thanks to Ivan for coming down to visit. And thanks to Kristine and PJ for acquiring the car.
Talk to you soon. I'm on Skype at tkilbride, and will sign up for a Skype number soon so you can call from a regular phone.
Love,
Tim
The flight from Doha to Kuwait was comfortable and uneventful. The Kuwait airport was (typically) uncomfortable and chaotic, and it's unclear how I will actually check in for my flight tomorrow evening, but for the time being I am comfortably ensconced in a hotel by the airport. There are eight restaurants here, and chances are good I while try one of them tomorrow. A boy's got to eat.
The Kuwaiti system of visas and customs is weird. You have to get a tourist visa to leave the airport, but they don't actually ever explain that; you just need to know. So I went to buy one and it costs 3 KD, which is equal to about $11. They don't take credit or U.S. dollars, so I had to go to an ATM and get KD. Then the lady said she couldn't make change, so I needed to go to this pasta place in the food court (I'm fond of this pasta place and will likely go there again tomorrow. It's tradition.) to make change. And then things went fine until customs, where there were four massive lines that didn't move. One of the lines was for an empty counter where it seemed certain an employee had been and would come back to, but no... So I switched lines, met two American heading to Iraq and Afghanistan, and then suddenly we all got waived to a third line where the customs agent just waived us through. So one cab ride later, with all my luggage intact, I'm at the hotel.
Tomorrow I've got to check out by 12, then kill time either in the hotel or at the airport until 7, then off to Baghdad for adventure and the unknown, but not for dinner since it will be closed. Fat Camp starts then!
And now it is off to bed. Again (sort of).
Enjoy your weekends, and belated happy anniversary to Andy, Drew, Mom, and Dad. And thanks to Ivan for coming down to visit. And thanks to Kristine and PJ for acquiring the car.
Talk to you soon. I'm on Skype at tkilbride, and will sign up for a Skype number soon so you can call from a regular phone.
Love,
Tim
Iraq Again. What a Dumb Idea.
January 2, 2010
1835 Doha
Greetings Dave Henning and other readers,
The new year has started off with a blur of activity. It seems I barely closed my eyes and now it’s January 2nd and I’m in Doha, Qatar, waiting for a plane. Yesterday is still recent enough to seem fresh and tangible, but also feels a world away from this place. The culture shift began as soon as I stepped onto the plane at Dulles.
Qatar Airways is not a bad carrier. The plane was big and clean, the seats were comfortable enough, and each had a video screen with lots and lots of movies. My movie selection included “Julie and Julia” (of which I made it through 20 minutes before deciding to go back to sleep), “The Time Traveler’s Wife” (of which I fell asleep after about 45 minutes and remained that way for 7 hours), and “The Prestige” (which I saw and enjoyed from beginning to end). But the movies and seats were not the problem. The staff was a small problem.
My ticket was initially booked with an aisle seat for DC to Qatar. I asked the travel agent to change that to a window (I don’t like being bumped in the aisle), and he said he did. When I checked in, however, they had me squarely in the middle of a three-across, center-of-the-plane row, and that wasn’t going to work for a 12.5-hour flight. I asked the guy at check-in for a window, but he said the only window seat didn’t have audio and I wouldn’t want that. I said I most certainly did want it. He gave it to me. So imagine my surprise when I get on the plane and someone else has Seat 22A – my seat! Our boarding passes matched, so I asked the flight attendant to look into it and he came back from conferring and said I was being move to a middle seat somewhere else, and the guy who was currently in the seat was being moved to another window seat two rows up. In the meantime, as we were sorting out why no one then got the original window seat (which the flight attendants were adamant no one would have), another flight attendant came up and made two other passengers move seats for no apparent reason, moving one girl from an aisle to the middle so that a disagreeable Middle Eastern woman could sit in the aisle. As I was disagreeably moving to my new middle seat, the woman in the aisle next to me asked if I wanted to switch seats, which seemed odd and self-sacrificing of her, but she explained she and her husband both had aisle seats (they book that way to preserve options), and if I switched with her I would get an aisle. That seemed very nice of her, so we did it, and everything was fine. Very agreeable people, those two.
I will say, of the airline food, very good! I had vegetable biryani, some sort of Middle Eastern salad, and a bread salad that was soaked in yogurt or cheese sauce.
Anyhoo, I made it off Qatar Airways Flight 52, and now I’m sitting in the airport in Doha, waiting to board Qatar Airways Flight 136 to Kuwait. That flight is only an hour and twenty minutes, so it will be a reading-only commute. Once there, in the very, very familiar Kuwait International Airport, my bags hopefully arrive (they don’t always), and I will hitchhike, drive or Yellow Cab it over to the airport Crown Plaza hotel for a night of quiet reflection on why I chose to disrupt my life in quite such a dramatic fashion.
Already I miss everyone. It was a very nice sendoff with the assistance packing, the stopover in Alexandria for pizza, hummus, and rum cake, and the airport delivery crew with its warm goodbye (despite Ivan’s initial bad attitude) and farewell toast in the Dulles Harry’s Tap Room. I wish I could’ve seen everybody longer, but then I guess I would’ve missed the flight. Eh… Six of one, half a dozen of the other…
For now, this airport is bright and bustling. Lots of Brits and other international types are milling about. Brits always seem very fashionable and appropriate in airports. It must be reminiscent of colonial times. When I’m over here I always feel like a glaring, standout American. I guess I should’ve shaved. Oh well, no time. So busy.
I hope you all have a wonderful start to 2010 (minus my absence, of course), and stay warm. Talk to you again as soon as I have an Internet connection, which is also when I’ll send this, so it will be a double-header.
I miss you!
Love,
Tim
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