Monday, October 20, 2003

08:15 - Baghdad. I had another great start. It goes something like this: “Dressed in a simple, black waistcoat, black slacks and shoes, the anonymous Iraqi’s gloved hands caressed the nondescript package with a subtle care, slowly advancing down the line of American servicemen and civilians, skilled eyes darting about the room for his next opportunity. With trained patience, he waits, nondescript, and in due time, he sights his target, makes his approach, and…” puts more paper napkins in the dispensers on the chow tables in the mess hall, just doing his job as a food service contractor. No MRE’s for us here at the Palais de Presidente, as one of the ballrooms (and a couple of spaces beyond) is now the full-service dining hall.

Thrice a day (five during Ramadan), KBR presents us with varied and industrial foodstuffs. Lunch today was grilled cheese and ham, beef stroganoff, burgers, then various salads, breads, deserts and beverages. For breakfast, eggs and bacon, grits and syrup, pancakes, fruits, juices, sodas and coffee. I think there’s a curry for supper. Actually, the food’s not that bad. There are, however, way to many people eating it. The original intent of the food service contract was to provide a third of the meals that they are providing today, and our numbers continue to increase. As a result, the lines get long, and it’s more difficult to find a place to sit.

The upside of this is that there are usually single seats around, so I am developing the habit of finding space next to people who are almost done with their meals. My plan is to have an interesting conversation with someone new while allowing them the opportunity to leave with their last bite. Then, someone new will appear, giving me twice the occasion to learn more about this place and why we are all here, or twice the opportunity to bore the snot out of perfect strangers..

Had my lunch today with a couple of perfect strangers. Infantrymen, in this case. They had been here from the start, and now spend their time on daily patrols with the occasional arrest thrown in for fun, if you think that fun is going with 15 of your best armed buddies into some Baghdad slum to break down a door and forcibly arrest a local.

I flash back to Friley Hall often during the dining process.

Scary, indeed.