Ice in the Desert
A thing long expected takes the form of the unexpected when at last it comes.
- Mark Twain
Today a thunderstorm rumbled through Baghdad and showered the FOB with gumball size hail. A couple of the troops armored up and waded into the storm, reveling in the raw display of nature’s power. The fat frozen raindrops scuttled off the armor plates like miniature billiards, sheathing the troops in the open with what looked like icy halos. It was as surreal an experience as any I had experienced here in Iraq. So much for the desert being as dry as a bone. Iraq has turned out to be a lot different from my expectations, and the differences run far deeper then the climate.
The biggest difference is the disparity between different neighborhoods. In the span of ten minutes you can move from a slum that reaks of filth and squalor, to a graceful modern bridge over an broad river, to a cityscape where neighboring buildings seem to be vying for architectural attention. Some universal urban laws still apply, the real estate on the river is still considered more exclusive then the dense inner core of the cities. But other aspects of the urban landscape seem to be haphazard, even in the upscale neighborhoods. Power lines and the other architecture that serve as the sinews of a city hang from trees, rooftops, and nearly any structure that doesn’t look ready to topple. Some of the more elegant buildings have been settled with squatters, further blurring the lines between have and have not.
After my last rotation to the desert I was expecting a similar landscape - fields of dunes interspersed with rocky plains. Baghdad is a far more fertile land then Kuwaits dusty expanses. Although there are swaths of bleached sands most of the earth has a richness that speaks to its place in agricultural history. The few areas not carpeted with buildings host fields of date palms that dig their roots deep into the good earth.
The biggest landmark in this area of Baghdad is an enormous powerplant belching black, vile smoke into the sky. If someone tried to run a plant like this in the United States it would be closed before it was even spun up to capacity, sometimes there is so much smoke it looks like the place is on fire. And yet the plant isn’t a sign of blight, but a sign of hope. In the US the electrical grid is stable, when you hit your light switch you know the lights will flash on. In Baghdad there is no such guarantee, and the residents are happy to see the smoke because it means power is being produced. It reminds me of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs scaled up for an entire population. You can’t expect people to care about the environment unless their basic needs are being met. Hmmmm. Wonder if there is a lesson there somewhere.
Posted by: Sean | March 09, 2005 at 03:18
Posted by: Toni | March 08, 2005 at 16:42
Posted by: Karen | March 08, 2005 at 16:30