I was "delighted", this week, to have to return to the airport at Kirkuk for another Huawei freight delivery. I had arranged for 9 trucks and a company forklift to meet us in Kirkuk at 6:30. Getting up at 4 AM is bad enough, but the endless wait at the airport gate while every vehicle and person is checked makes it nearly intolerable. Normally you wait at the first gate where there is a large parking lot. Then, after much checking you move to the second gate, about 100 meters further in. After this gate, you proceed into a heavily fortified area surrounded with many huge sandbags. This is where the vehicles get checked. During that time, you are searched and issued a visitor pass after turning in your ID.
At the first gate, our wait was particularly long. The large group in front of our group had quite a number of cars and about 80 people. I knew something had gone wrong when the rather relaxed group of soldiers at the first gate straightened up, put on their helmets, inserted live ammo into their weapons and took up a very defensive position behind the gate.
“Get away from my gate!” yelled the soldier in charge. “NOW!!!” He directed his remarks at a group of a dozen Iraqis who were lined up for entry. There was no mistaking his directive. My group was three AsiaCell Pathfinders and Mr. Yi’s Japanese 4X4. I told all the drivers to back up another 50 meters. There was no need to be too close. Mr. Yi and his Huawei cronies had flak jackets on. I was in my blue jeans and dirty old coat that Heather loves so well – not!
The Huawei guys were not sure if I was brave or stupid as I walked toward the gate. The Americans had brought up an armored vehicle with a 50-caliber machine gun on it. They tracked me as I walked to the gate and queried the guards as to what the problem might be. Since I had not heard an explosion and/or gunshots, I already knew the answer, but I needed to find out if we were going to be able to get in at all that day. Sometimes they close the gates and nobody enters the airfield for a day or two and I didn’t want to wait. One of the guards confirmed that they had discovered a bomb in one of the vehicles in front of our group.
I knew it would be a long while before we got in, at that point. Before long, another AsiaCell vehicle showed up with a large order of cell phones for the Army. Since I already had an escort, I took them through onto the base. I spent a couple of hours helping expedite the delivery and payment (always cash in Iraq). They gave us $17,000 US dollars and we left. After sending the vehicle back to Sulaymaniya, I rejoined the trucks – still waiting to get onto the base. Finally we were cleared and went through the whole search process. One of the drivers forgot his ID in a truck causing another delay. After everything was finally complete I entered the lead, escort vehicle and we pulled away from the search area. The trucks, led, no doubt, by a madman, didn’t follow us. Instead they all pulled onto the exit ramp leading off the base. Since there were 9 trucks, and they all wedged into the exit at the same time, there was no way to get them all to back up. Well, we could have tried, but we’d still be there, so we had to leave the base, and re-enter through the gate, much to the enjoyment of the entire US guard force who laughed heartily at our misfortune. I think that earlier I described the “herding cats” aspect of Iraqi society. This was that… at it’s finest.
Ultimately, we got to the plane and while it took 8 hours to get onto the base, it only took and hour to get the trucks loaded, thanks to some logistical help from the Air Force ground crew and some honkin’ big forklifts. The Russian pilot would not allow the AsiaCell driver to come anywhere near the plane after the driver ran into the plane for the third time. My humor was lost on them when I explained that the forklift driver was the best AsiaCell had, and he’d graduated from forklift school with honors after 15 years. If you don’t think that is funny either, please don’t tell me about it. I’ve had my fill of Russians this week, too.
OK. OK. Well maybe you think this Iraqi joke is funny:
An American, a Brit and an Iraqi are in a bar one night having a beer.
The American drinks his beer and suddenly throws his glass in the air, pulls out a gun and shoots the glass to pieces. He says, "In the States our glasses are so cheap that we don't need to drink from the same one twice."
The Brit, obviously impressed by this, drinks his beer, throws his glass into the air, pulls out his gun and shoots the glass to pieces. He says, "In Britain we have so much sand to make the glasses that we don't need to drink out of the same glass twice either."
The Iraqi, cool as a cucumber, picks up his beer and drinks it, throws his glass into the air, pulls out his gun and shoots the American and the Brit. He says "In Baghdad we have so many Americans and Brits that we don't need to drink with the same ones twice."
It was a long trip home from Kirkuk. We led the convoy because our security force decided we were taking too long, and went home. However, we made it OK without them although it took some bluffing to get through the checkpoints. After arriving back at the hotel, Mr. Yi called me and asked if he could come over and see me for a minute. I agreed and when he showed up, he was carrying a present for me. My first flak jacket, neatly emblazoned with the Huawei logo in front and “CHINA” in big letters on the back. I was very proud. Seriously though, it was a very thoughtful thing to give to me.
On St. Patrick's Day, some terrorist clown decided to celebrate by blowing up himself and a few other poor souls in Baghdad. While this type of thing would be noteworthy only for it's stupidity, in this case there was another reason to take a second look. The hotel that was destroyed was only 50 meters from the Hammurabi Palace, the hotel I stayed at in Baghdad the previous week. Hah! Missed me by a week! Loser! Anyway, read all about it here, if you want to, courtesy of CNN.
The local folks here are always off on Fridays, due to their Sabbath. Then, they were given Saturday, Sunday and Monday off for the Kurdish New Year holiday. So things were quiet around work. On Thursday night, Mr. Yi called me and asked me if I wanted to go to the country with them the next day. I was not sure what he meant, but I called our CEO and asked if I could go. “Enjoy yourself”, he said. The next morning I wandered over to the Huawei office, stopping to shake hands with the guard in the back of the hotel. After a quick photo op with his AK47, I headed up the street to find the whole Chinese crew packing up their 4X4 and the BMW with food and all sorts of picnic things. It turned out we were headed for a very scenic place near the border of Iran.
We drove for an hour and a half through some small towns, finally turning toward the impressive mountains. Soon we came to a very clear river and followed the deteriorating road upwards. As the road became less wide we looked over the edge to see the river far below. It was very cool and a bit scary. High in the hills was another small Kurdish village – the legendary mountain folk of Kurdistan. It was reassuring to see the mighty chicken standing in the road to welcome us.
We stopped near the river and carried our picnic supplies to a clear spot among the trees. Several other Kurdish families were also there. After an amazing feast of Kurdish food, prepared the previous night by our driver’s mother, several of us got into the 4X4 and headed further upriver. When the road ran out, we walked another few hundred meters and came to a wondrous place. The source of the river was a hole in mountain. Water poured from the opening and fell hundreds of meters to form the river below. It was clear and pure and cold. Part of the stream hid been diverted to run a small generating station. We climbed up the mountain on a series of mammoth stairs. At the top, there was a holy place where people can pray. Our driver asked if anyone minded that we were there, but they seemed delighted. The 50 or so people took dozens of pictures of us. They were particularly interested in the Chinese crowd. I finally figured out that they were saying “Jackie Chan” over and over. It seems that he is a real hero in Iraq. Go figure!
Well, after the long climb down, we headed back to our
picnic site for a bit. While our driver took the other group to the waterfall,
Mr. Yi and I climbed another mountain. Quite an adventure in it’s own right.
Poppies grew between the rocks and we stopped to take more pictures and admire
the view. I plucked a poppy to put into a book for my sweetheart and found a
small barnacle shaped rock for the other love of my life. When we saw our truck
coming back along the road, we climbed down and rejoined the
group. Soon it was suppertime and shish kabobs were the main course, cooked over
a charcoal-filled pan. The other Kurdish families were dancing and singing, much
to our delight. When it came time to leave, we were all tired and relaxed. It was a
great day.
It was back to reality the next night, as the New Year celebration in Kurdistan really began. One of our cars was delivering phones to the military in Mosul and had the back window shot out. Nobody was hurt, but the bullets were inches from the passenger’s heads. I saw the car. I’m glad I was not in it. Sunday was a relatively quiet day and Monday is also a holiday. Something bad traditionally happens on holidays here. We have heard rumors that a car full of Arabs made it through a checkpoint in town. Paranoia about Arabic people is what the locals feel has kept Sulaymaniya so safe. Everyone is on his or her guard and we have all been warned to stay away from crowded places. We have been told to leave work before dark and to stay in our hotel room. It seems like darn good advice. 31 more sleeps until I am home.
And, they have asked to talk contract renewal with me.
Later,
Steve