100 Years in Four Days

It has been only four days.  I left the U.S. late on Friday.  It is now Tuesday afternoon here, still morning where I came from.  It sure is hard to believe it was only four days ago that I was typing at a computer at IIP and cleaning off my desk for the last (maybe also first) time.  So much is different. 

My day was full of meetings.  I am learning more about how a PRT works and knowing less.  There is no plan that can tell me how to do my new job.  Many have been in such situations & places before, but they remain always undiscovered, where past experience is crucial, but cannot be directly applied.  We have to learn by doing, plan by doing and do by … doing.  I have reasonable confidence that I can do this job, but I could not tell you now with any specificity what I can do.

I met a really good source in the PRT leader from Diyala.  His name is John Jones.  I am making him my model.  He has experienced the FS and life.  He has been shot at and bombed near, but he maintains composure – a friendly equanimity – I admire.  What is more, his family used to own forest land on the James River in Buckingham County.   We talked a bit re that.  He is thinking about getting some forest land in Southside, VA.  Maybe I can return his favor by helping him out with that.  

Diyala is now what Anbar was a couple months ago.  It is still dangerous but moving in the right direction.  John Jones has seen a lot.  He told me that we just have to invent, innovate and experiment.  He talked a little about the cultural difference, not only Iraqis and Americans, but also State and DOD.  I took some lessons I think will be useful.

I had an appointment at the PRT Baghdad, which is outside the Embassy compound. Met some good people.  I walked back to the Embassy.  It takes only about ten minutes.  It takes just about that long to drive because of the route and checkpoints. The streets are quiet, since few cars are allowed to drive in the IZ.   It was really hot in the sun, but pleasant in the shade of the tree where you have them.  It was a very warm summer day – but this is October.  I do not look forward to July.  I felt safe, but the presence of “duck & cover” bunkers placed regularly along the road and lots of armed men reminded me that the peacefulness might be deceptive.  Most people think the security situation here is much improved, but they also fear the progress could be fragile. 

On the Embassy compound, we live in a village that looks a lot like a Florida trailer park with sandbags.  It is not bad.  There are lots of palm trees.  I like to think of my place like a cabana. Some of the military guys tell me that this is like heaven, mentioning more Spartan conditions they experienced in the past and warning of less comfort in the future in parts of Anbar.  Life is tough all over.

I was surprise to see beer in the refrigerator at the DFAC.  You recall my paean to beer two posts past and my belief that I would not see it again soon, so I was happy.  But then I noticed those terrible words – “non alcoholic”.  I do like the taste, so I drank some, but it is not the same.

Well, I am off to get something to eat and then I hope to get some sleep.  A combination of jet lag, stress of the trip and busy schedules is wearing me down at bit.  I want to stay energetic.   I know that my experience so far has been prosaic.  I kinda hope it doesn’t get too much more exciting in some ways.  I welcome comments.

Landing in Beautiful Baghdad

It is hot (even in October) and dry.  A fine dust covers most things.  It is slippery with fine dust.  I am sure that the airport is not the best impression Iraq has to offer and it is much the worse for the wear of vehicles.  I expect everything now will be an improvement.   No matter what, it is exciting to be here in ancient Mesopotamia.  I read about this place, the cradle of civilization, since I was ten years old.

We came over from Amman on a C130, packed like sardines.  There was no meal service or in flight movie.  You see in rows along the side, like in those old movies. The seats are just canvas with netting.  They do not recline. When the plane moves, you are pushed side to side.   This is a cargo, not a passenger plane.  We are cargo. Besides that, however, it is surprisingly comfortable.  The engines are loud, but not as bad as I thought.  The flight is fairly smooth until they take the standard evasive action on before landing. I expected a bumpier ride.

Once we arrive we processed through a series of tents and trailers. I got processed in, got my flack jacket and helmet and I am good to go.  People are businesslike, but friendly.  Their mood is good.  Their upbeat attitude is surprising and does not match the barren landscape.  After processing, I went over to the chow hall.  It is nice.  The food is good, certainly the quality you would get at a good restaurant buffet. There is lots of it and it is all free.  My challenge will be no eating too much.  I had roast turkey with rice.  It was very good. Then I had some friend chicken with potatoes.  Good too.  Then I had a salad.  Ditto. Finally I had some cake.  Of course, all this was okay for the diet because I drank diet coke.  In my defense, I didn’t get to eat all day and finally got to the chow hall after a fairly busy day around 5.  

Tonight we will go to the Green Zone on an armored bus – a RINO.  I think the Green Zone will be more pleasant.  I do not know when I will get a decent night’s sleep.  So far travel has precluded that.  

After waiting for around 9 hours at the Sully Compound, we moved to a place called the stables and waited there for 3+ hours until the RINO came.  You never know when the RINO will come.  That is the design.  So you wait and when it comes, you get on.  The chief of the bus goes through something akin to that safety demo you get on airplanes.  I will not go into details, but he tells you what to do if we are hit in various ways.  Luckily, the trip was uneventful and the trip was reasonably comfortable. I could see little in the dark through the tinted windows.  I could tell that the topography is pancake-flat, but I could not tell much else. 


I have already been meeting people who know things I want to know.   I met an experienced PRT leader who explained the work.  It is varied.  We are inventing the jobs as we go them.  As I try to put it into terms I can understand, it seems like a BPAO on steroids with the military, danger & development permutation.  PRTs must dispense lots of money and look for worthy projects.  Millions of dollars.  In fact, money is not the problem.   The Iraqis also have piles of money  from their oil revenues, but the central government does not have the capacity to allocate and spend it productively.  We forget all the thousands of middle managers, accountants and budget specialists that lubricate our own spending. A big PRT job, and the others here,  is helping build capacity.  

The PRT people get out more than I thought.  The PRT leader told me that he gets out to meet contacts most days of the week.  It is not as easy as it would be most other places, but it is doable.  

I also learned that Iraqis are very fond of sweets.  I was advised to get some of those Wurther style chocolates to give as little token gifts.   Chocolate is popular, but ordinary chocolate does not travel well in Iraqi temperatures.  I have been told re drinking the tea.  The tea, I am told, is very hot and very sweet.  Three cups is the norm.  You can usually say no after that.  Iraqis are hospitable and expect to eat more than you think you should (see above re chow halls).  Some people drink alcohol, but it is not a good idea to join them.

Anyway, it will be an interesting experience.  I hope and believe that I will find most of Iraq nicer than this here and now place.  I remain optimistic. Later …

I got to the Embassy compound at night and was assigned a temporary trailer.  It was hard to find it among the trailer park, but I finally did and around 330 am finally got some rest.
 

The compound is an old Saddam palace.  I have mixed feelings about these palaces.  They are indeed impressive, but mostly in the profligately big Soviet style, along the same lines as the Palace of Cultures that clutter Moscow and other capitals of the former Warsaw Pact. 

The green zone is literally green, with lots of trees and plants.  Still dust & heat, but it is very pleasant in general.  The soil here is fertile if given water and not salinated by over irrigation.  This is the fertile crescent, after all. 
 
Once again, I was surprised by the high morale.  I think that might be because everyone is important; everyone has a job to do and cooperation is needed in most things.  For example, we unload our own luggage from the trucks.  A luggage line forms spontaneously.  You pass the bags back into someone’s willing hands and they all get unloaded quickly.  People have been very welcoming.  At the chow halls, for example, you can just start talking and people respond well telling you things you need to know.   There are lots of people who know things I want to know and they are eager to share. 
 Anyway, I need to run.  I apologize in advance for any editing errors I made in my haste.  I have some pictures that I hope to post later.

Dulles & Frankfurt: Good Beer Makes it Okay

Dulles & Frankfurt exert gravitational pull on my life.  Dulles has been the jumping off point and Frankfurt the landing spot for most of my overseas adventures.  In spite of dozens of stops in Frankfurt, I have left the airport only twice: during my first international travel in 1979 (when I hitchhiked down the road, promptly got lost and spent the night on a park bench in Heidelberg) and last year when I made some local appointments.  Frankfurt is an interesting place, but most of us see only the transit airport.  We arrive tired, dirty, cranky and eager to go someplace else.  We leave with a bad impression.  Too bad.

The State Department generously gave me business class because my travel time is well over 14 hours, so I got some rest on the flight over.  Now I have the 8+ hour wait before I leave for Amman to await milair to Baghdad. 

I am sitting in the Business Lounge in FRK.  Snacks and Coca Cola are free.  I can plug in my computer.  Other than that the place has little to recommend it.  I arrived to a rows of unattractive grey chairs, crowded with unattractive grey people surrounded by dour grey and blue walls.  Sadly, this is the place where I belong.  We all tend to see FRK through grey filters.

However, things are looking up.  After a little while, most of those crowds moved along to their final destinations (what an ominous phrase) leaving the place quiet for us happy few long-term residents.  It is not so bad w/o the tumult.  I managed to sleep a little and although I have the stiff neck to prove I can sleep sitting straight up, I feel refreshed and in a much better mood than when I walked through the door a couple of hours ago.

I have also found another thing that discerning travelers appreciate about Germany – beer.  They have a splendid little machine that dispenses Beck’s beer the German way – with the proper amount of foam in the proper type of glass.  It may be mere psychology, but the stuff we get in the bottles back home just is not the same.  The properly tapped beer is an art form, with froth just above the rim, so that you enjoy the visual beauty, feel and smell the flavor before you taste it.  Some people appreciate fine wine.  That’s nothing but grape juice in old bottles to an old Milwaukee boy like me who prefers beer.  Since I will not be seeing much of the golden liquid grain in Iraq, I do not mind drinking it here.  The grey surroundings have brightened.  They are even some big pretzels and what looks like goulash soup.

Es gibt kein schoneres leben, even if it is only an airport and only for a moment.  On the road to Iraq, I take it when I can, because when I am gone from here, everybody else will be drinking all the beer.  FRK is not all that bad, once you get to know it.

Tying Up Loose Ends

I am finishing up my old job this week.  I fly out on Friday and I still have lots of things to do.  I hope to write more on the blog on Sunday or Monday with my first impressions of Iraq.   I will then delay my postings so that I cannot inadvertently reveal anything I should not.

Here are a few things I found mentioning my upcoming tour, background until I can write again.

Provincial Reconstruction Teams Are Improving Lives in Iraq
State Department Cajoles Young Diplomats Into Iraq Service – This one has me near the end.  The title is misleading, IMO.  Of course clearly “young diplomats” does not mean me.

A Car Sick & Melancholy Resident of the Twilight Zone

September 20, 2007
Today was the kind of day I will look back on with some fondness, but it was not a good day.  I can liken this experience to going to the amusement park and getting to ride the roller coaster – ALL DAY.  I am in W. Virginia for evasive driving training.  It was good at first.  We did some driving on slick surfaces.  It was fun to skid around and not too hard for me.  Next was also fun, driving around the racetrack dodging orange plastic cones.  I did that well too.  But then one of my car mates got sick and threw up out the window.  I figured that if he was sick, there might be a reason. After that I felt sick myself for the rest of the day.

Of the 28 people in my class, about half of us got sick.  It was very jarring.  We had to avoid objects and break rapidly.  It did not like the smell of exhaust and burning rubber.  Hardest for me was driving backwards.  I have never been good at backing up and doing it at high speeds is scary for me.  Suffice to say, I drove over a few cones.  We also had to crash into other cars and ram them out of the way.   This was interesting.  It is not something you get to do very often w/o pushing up your insurance rates.  Tomorrow the bad guys will attack us and we will have to respond by evading driving out of danger.  Like so many things relating to Iraq, it will be good to HAVE done, but not good to be gonna do.  I think this will become my catch phrase.

September 21/22
It was more fun today.  I did not get sick.  We had to evade and escape. I did that okay.   I enjoy it a lot more when I am not sick, but I am really glad it is over. 

At the end of the day, the instructor blew some things up, including an old car, to show us how the different explosions look, sound and smell.  That was cool.  It is interesting how you can feel the shock waves.  Once again my joy in seeing such strange things was mitigated by the knowledge that such things may no longer be so strange in my future life.

Going to these courses makes you a little paranoid.  Security guys take some pride in their ability to stimulate unease. They kind of look down on us ordinary guys who do not find the world so immediately threatening.  I understand that the situation in Iraq is dangerous and I admit that there are times for vigilance even in America.   But I am glad that most Americans can live most of their lives in a state of general unpreparedness.  Isn’t this what we want from security?  It is a great advantage to be able to walk down the streets of home lost in our own mundane thoughts.  I hope that we can help the Iraqis get that back soon and we have to make sure Americans do not lose it – the right to be distracted, the right not to pay attention, or maybe just freedom from fear. I also called to confirm my milair flight from Amman to Baghdad.  They are efficient there.  I am on.  They said they will inform me of the “show time” when the time gets closer.

I am in that funny twilight zone right now between my former and future lives.  I still have to do a few things for IIP/S and I still am the director.  People are asking me for decisions and I still have authority.  But there is not much left .  I will be in Iraq by the end of next weekend. 
Now I am going through all the “lasts” at least for a long time.  Mariza came down for her last visit before I leave.  I went to Arthur Treacher with CJ for the last time this morning.  Tomorrow I plan to run for the last time along the upper bike trail.  On Monday, I will ride for the last time to work on my bike.  Unfortunately, I will not have the time to go down to my forest.  I think it will be a lot bigger when I get back.  Those tree grow really fast.  It is a melancholy time.  The feeling has nothing to do with Iraq.  This is always the case before a PCS move.   I think of all the things I have become accustomed to doing that I will not do for a long time to come, maybe for years, maybe forever.  Iraq will be quite an experience no matter what.  It will be good to have done it.

Exploring My No Skill Zone

Usually I like training.  Not this time.  Some things are cool.  I thought the body armor and helmets were interesting.  But then I started to remember WHY we need to wear such things all the time in Iraq.  They are also heavy.  It will be good exercise to walk around with the things on.   I used to have a weight coat when I was young and more vigorous.  I never thought I would get another one.

I really didn’t like the first aid course.  I am squeamish about such things and some of the things were were “squeam inducing”.

I learned what a flailed chest is and how to do preliminary treatment on a sucking chest wound.  At least I know in theory and I have a wallet sized card re the proper order of things, but still have little confidence in my abilities.  They tell us that we are unlikely to be the only people available to to help.  We will play at best a supporting role.  One of the marines said that maybe I could help carry the stretcher.  In fact, they say, one of the reasons they give us this course is to let us know that we are not super heroes.  It worked.  Even in the training sessions I feel clumsy. 

This afternoon we went up to West Virginia to train with guns and learn how to drive cars as if the bad guys were chasing.  Very macho. They assured us that we would probably not have to really do these things either.  Diplomats do not generally get the opportunity to drive or shoot in Iraq.   This is a good thing.  A man has gotta know his limitations.

I am a reasonably good shot with the pistols, but I really am no threat to the enemy with an AK or M-4.  I suppose if a couple hundred stood in a line like the Redcoats during he revolution, I could hit one or two.  I just cannot shoot.  We did identify a possible reason for my extraordinarily poor aim, however.  I am right handed, but evidently my left eye is dominant.  I just do not look down the barrel properly.  I could probably learn to do a little better, but never would be Davy Crockett.  Fortunately, this also is not one of my core activities.

I am good at talking and not bad at writing or understanding what I read.  That is how I got into the FS.  I like to think up all sorts of permutations and scenarios for organizations and management.  Sometimes they work.  That is how I can add value.  People tell me that I can be persuasive and even charming.  That is why people cut me some slack.  Lucky for me.  I probably could not earn much of a living if I actually had to make physical things on my own.  If I lived in the cave man times, or even in practically any age before our own, I would not survive long unless I could find work as either a the local soothsayer or the village idiot.  I am happy that I live in a society that values and rewards the things that come in my skill cluster. 

Tomorrow we have to do the defensive driving section.  I didn’t own a car until I was 28 years old.  Neither of my parents even had a driver’s license.  I bike to work or take the Metro.  Suffice to say, I just don’t know from cars.  I suppose I will enjoy crashing them – one time. 

I will be glad when this week is over.  I do have to mention, however, that this area is really nice.  Lots of horse farms and restored old houses.  I should not complain so much.   One of my colleagues commented, “Getting paid to drive cars and shoot.  It don’t get no better than that.” I am not sure I agree entirely, but it is more fun than getting poked in the eye with a pointy stick (oh yeah, we learned about that injury too).

Iraq from the Bottom Up

I wrote this essay for another blog.  I am really proud that I will be a PRT leader, but for this entry I did not want to call particular attention to myself, so it is a little detached.  I include it here because it sums up a lot of what I think about Iraq (or what I think I know about Iraq.) 

All Americans – and of course Iraqis – have a stake in a successful Iraq. Past Iraqi policies of centralization resulted in terrible suffering and if we look in this same place for achievement we will be disappointed, as we have been so far. However, the ongoing turmoil and violence mask significant potential and progress if you look away from the middle.
The more I study the modern history of Iraq, the more profound my sense of tragedy. Although Iraq was cobbled together from Ottoman provinces and had no particular history as a country in its current form, the region has a long history, which I need not repeat. Just a few highlights: this is where they invented the wheel, the place where Hamurabi wrote his law code, the center of golden age of Islamic civilization. Modern Iraq sits on cultural and economic crossroads. It is/was blessed with good agricultural potential, a sophisticated and skilled population and – perhaps a dubious benefit – oil.

Until around 1970, Iraq was one of the most promising states of the Middle East, but it was infected with Baathism – which sought its models in totalitarian communism and Nazism – and then a ruthless dictator, Saddam Hussein.

Under Saddam Hussein, power was centralized, or more correctly any power that could compete with the central authorities was crushed. The Baathists had learned from Soviet communist experience that the way for the party to stay in power was to tie all local institutions to the state. They systematically destroyed or co-opted what NGOs existed. Any strong private businesses were similarly liquidated. Opponents were killed. We recognize the pattern. It has little to do with Iraq or Islam. It is the classic totalitarian power consolidation. Stalin, Mao, Hitler or Castro would understand the method.

All this would be bad enough, but Iraq has also been in a state of nearly perpetual war since 1980. In those years, the wealth of Iraq went into weapons, waste and corruption. It got even worse during the 1990s. Saddam created roadblocks to allow him and his cronies to steal money that should have gone for food or medicine. The younger generation of Iraqis is significantly less well educated and less skilled than their parents and a country that could be rich lies in ruins. Sorry for the digression, but I think it is important to remember that Iraq had a history BEFORE the U.S. got involved.

After the overthrow of Saddam, the coalition inherited this mess and exacerbated it by attempting to reestablish a centralized, top-down system. In all fairness, many Iraqis were used to top-down and uncomfortable with freedom and taking the initiative, which they had learned to fear during the long night of the Baathist. It is time for a new paradigm.
Iraq is a rich country even now. The Central government is sitting on a yearly budget of around $40 billion w/o a real capacity to spend it. It is something we rarely consider, but it takes functioning institutions to properly use money. Institutions are like pitchers. You cannot pour more into them than they can hold. Maybe the central government can better share it out a bit to the parts of Iraq that need it and can use it.

As with the successful transition of former communist countries of Eastern Europe, the key to success is decentralized power and institutions. Micro loans can help set up business that are not dependent on state corruptions – sorry – I mean corporations. Decentralized power generation can begin to bring prosperity to the countryside. NGOs can take up much of the jobs that corrupt bureaucrats do not very well. Iraqis can learn to take the initiative in their lives and regions. Americans can help, as we did in Eastern Europe, but also as in Eastern Europe, the local people must – in the end – do the job.

Americans ARE helping, however. Working with local leaders was one of the keys to the dramatic turnaround in Al Anbar province.  We have deployed provincial reconstruction teams around the country. These are led by senior State Department officers and include people experienced in AID, agriculture, business development and municipal management.  In January, President Bush announced that he was doubling the number of teams and beefing up their staffing and he is keeping his word. This is the building part of the surge. 

I still do not know if we will succeed in Iraq, although I am much more hopeful today than I was six months ago. I still consider success in Iraq crucial to our future and worth taking the risks. 

John Matel Goes to Iraq

I am going to Iraq to be a provincial reconstruction team leader in Al Anbar province.  I am starting this blog to keep track of my experience.  Maybe it will be interesting to people who know me.

This is John Negroponte and me at a meeting of PRT personnel.  I am the bald guy (among bald guys) in the lighter colored suit.

Follow this link for the NPR story with one of my comments.

Why I Volunteered to Go to Iraq
In thinking about why I decided to go to Iraq, I decided first to eliminate things that were NOT key factors.  I do not feel pushed to go to Iraq.  On the contrary, I am happy with my life in Virginia.  My family is great.  I have a job I love, probably the best job I have ever held.  I own a home, a forest & just about everything I really need or want.  Money is not a problem for me anymore.  My retirement is reasonably secure.  The State Department did not push me to go.  On the contrary, I got to my current job for the next two years and one of my biggest regrets has been that I am leaving bosses and colleagues who want me to stay. 

So what is pulling me to Iraq? 

Patriotism is my biggest pull.  I feel a little embarrassed to put this front and center.  Our ironic age tends to dismiss these sorts of things.  It is not the patriotism of the Sousa music and the grand parades.  Perhaps more a call of duty.   It is something I should do.  Others are doing their part; it is time for me to do mine.  I supported an aggressive policy in Iraq back in 2003.  It did not play out as I hoped, but I think there is still a good chance for success.  Beyond that, the consequences of failure are terrible.  My contribution to this success will be small, but we all need to make our small contributions to make big things happen.

Professional growth is my second reason.  The PRT job description sounds exciting.  Leading a multifunctional team like this is what my experience prepared me to do and it is the kind of opportunity you cannot get anywhere else.  A person should do what he does well.  My FS career has been good, but it is almost over.  I doubt I would ever have another opportunity to lead an operation overseas, certainly doing nothing as complex or important as the PRT leader.  

I do not see this as an opportunity for career success IN the FS.  I cannot think of many jobs in the FS that I still want.  Unlike most of my colleagues, I have not made the big deal for the follow on dream job.  In fact, I have not even bid at all on any positions at State after Iraq.   I plan to retire at the end of 2008.  I do hope that this experience will help me with a post FS life.  However, it will be indirect.  

I cannot leave out the money I will make.  State Department gives significant financial incentives for service in Iraq.   But money is not a motivator.  I am not doing this for the money, but I think that w/o the money I would feel like some kind of chump.  It is what organization behavior people call a “hygiene factor”, something you need to have to go forward, but not something that causes the action.  I will try to save almost all the additional money for retirement (Chrissy will be able to put her TSP to the maximum.   Mine is already there @ 10%) or forestry.  For example, I am already getting some wildlife plots put onto my land.   W/o the Iraq money I could not afford to do that.

In summary, my reasons are complex.  I am not sure myself why I am doing it.  I suppose that I will have lots of time to think about these things in Iraq.  Frankly, that is also one of the draws – time to think.  My predecessor tells me that the job consists of periods of intense and sometimes scary activity punctuated by periods of profound boredom.   My quarters are a 9×17 shipping container (w/o a bathroom) in the middle of a desert.  I figure this will create some forced introspection.  In the past, whenever I have been in these lonely and/or disrupted situations, I have come up with some new ideas that have worked out.
I am not very worried about being killed or seriously wounded.  I understand the danger and am aware of the risks, but I also can figure the odds.  I could be wrong.  If that does happen, I will have led a good life and gone out when things were still good. 

That is the story so far.  My year in Iraq is about to start; let’s see how it ends.