Yesterday was my 1/2 day off...and I had intended to use the pool for the first time. However, much to my chagrin, just as I was leaving we found out we had to go to "full battle rattle." (Kevlar helmet and flak vest) The first thing I thought of was the pool. Dismayed, I mentioned, "well, I guess I can't go swimming now." One of the guys in my shop said, "Well, you could, but you'd have to wear your vest and helmet." The image of trying to swim in that gear came to mind, and I laughed, "Yeah, but I wouldn't swim. I'd sink." We have metal plates in our vest, and it adds quite a bit of weight. (You can jump a little higher on your bicycle if you weigh more, I've discovered.) Then I thought of rugby, and playing in that gear. Fortunately, when I showed up for the game, everyone else took their gear off and we "chanced it." I actually think it would have been more dangerous to play IN the gear. Someone would have broken their neck b/c the kevlar helmet is fairly heavy. The rules, however, say we have to run/exercise in full battle rattle.

So, all in all, yesterday was pretty interesting. Once I got back to my room, I was able to change into PT gear (shorts and a t-shirt), but I still had to wear my kevlar and flak vest. I'm sure I looked quite a sight. Before going to rugby, I stopped by the DFAC (dining facility) to pick up a sandwich for dinner. As I was leaving and trying to juggle the helmet and my food, one of the officers that walked by said, "Guess this is what makes Iraq special." I agreed. This is what we get the little bit of extra pay for. The mortar rounds haven't been any worse, but people are worried because everyone knows what is tomorrow (September 11th). The mortars and rockets may increase just a bit. Fortunately, no MNF (multi-national forces) have been killed on my base. We're nestled snugly between Camp Slayer and BIAP (Baghdad International Airport). It's amazing that every time a trailer has been hit, whoever had been in it had just stepped out -- to use the bathroom, go to dinner, or brush their teeth. Sort of makes you think of "divine intervention." I was laying in bed last night, though, thinking of how often I've heard the booms and felt the concussions. I take it for granted, a little, that it won't hit me. This isn't WWI -- THEY got shelled a lot. I try to not think about it and am usually successful, but every once in a while reality kicks in and I have to acknoweldge the fact that I'm not far from those mortars/rockets.

I am SO excited because next Thursday is my first whole day off since I got here. That is, as long as nothing happens between now and then. I haven't slept in yet, and I think that will be VERY nice.

Well, I better get back to work!

~ amber

Now that my life has become rather routine, I've added some new things to it. Last Thursday, on my 1/2 day off, I played Rugby for the first time ever. It was way too much fun. Let me describe what playing Rugby here at Camp Victory is like:

First, as we arrived at the medivac pad, a few cars were lined up. They were waiting for the helicopters to arrive. The few stragglers who showed up early to play sat down on the side, and wait for it all to be over. In the 110+ heat, we watched as four blackhawks landed. Just before each one landed, all the dust and hot wind blew at us, nearly knocking us over (even though we were sitting). The gusts were hot, dry, and stinging. Several people jumped out and walked quickly to the cars parked next to the hel0pad. Within in a few minutes, the blackhawks lifted up again and flew directly over us. I tried taking a picture, but the wind blew the lanyard on my camera in the way, so all I got a picture of was my hand, the lanyard, and part of a helicopter directly above. Once they were all gone, the one Australian stood up and said, "Alright then," and everyone followed. They explained the rules to me, which were deceivingly simple, and we began. I never knew that in Rugby you threw the ball backwards. Anyhow, it was a great work-out. Mostly I just ran back and forth. It's much quicker than American Football, and I have to say, much more interesting. We played until we couldn't see the ball anymore (it got dark quickly). The Australian who had taught me how to play said, "you did bloody well for your first game." I decided then I'd come back. :) I hurried back home to shower.

Once I got ready to take a shower, I was dismayed to find out there wasn't any water. I was ready to slice whoever had let the water run out. I then walked down to the other shower-trailer and got all ready once again to find out the water was out. I had gotten into the habit of showering at night so that I wouldn't have to put my hair up wet in the morning, and this frustrated me. I didn't mind too much, though, because playing a team sport had been so much fun. Oh, I forgot to say it was just touch rugby. I can't imagine playing regular rugby on the tarmac.

I was sore over my entire body for two days. I felt great. Yesterday, they played again. I worked it out with my boss to let me play rugby during my dinner time. My hours had been shifted back to 0800-2000, so at 1815 I rode my bike home quickly and changed, then played until 1920, then went back to my trailer, changed back into my uniform (I was out of breath and very hot by then), and rode back to work as quickly as I could. I worked until 2030, then went home and finally got my shower. At least this time the water was working. I had a great time though, and the same Australian, who's more or less the referee, said, "are you sure the last time was the first time you had ever played?" I said yes. Then he said, "you'll be here on Thursday then?" If they keep making me feel like a prodigy, I'll be playing rugby twice a week until I leave! I'm not that good at all, for sure. I just have a great time. Next time, though, I'll make sure I get a sandwich. I was starving by breakfast time!

Today is Labor Day. I get to serve my country all day at work. Wow. Usually I do something interesting on Labor Day weekend. Not this year!

~ amber

A note from an Englishman written inside a Camp Victory 'sauna' (porta potty):
"No to the Euro. Keep the Pound."

I thought that was funny. Even here in Iraq, someone from England is concerned about their national currency.

I've received a few packages and email from people back at home, etc., and I want to thank you. :) It's always nice to get something, even a card. There are some people at work who don't ever get anything, though, so if you would like to send them something just let me know and I'll give you their names (the address would be the same). I'm still looking into how to get beanie babies to the local children -- I'm not allowed to go out and walk around, but I'm sure someone is.

Looks like the election is stirring up a lot back in the States. I'm kind of glad to be missing it. It all makes me sick, all the bickering and smashing. I have to deal with a lot of that here, with Iraqi politics, too. I just wish I could find the one answer to these peoples' problems. Having the U.S. pull out right away certainly isn't it.

Well... I have some more assessments to write up. Let me know how we're doing in the Olympics. I don't have a lot of time/opportunity to watch. I did laugh yesterday, though, when one of the guys in my shop asked, "Did Lance Armstrong win the Tour de France? Wasn't that this week?" At least he was happy when I told him he did, for his sixth time.

I continue to ride my bike around, and I'm getting better at jumping over the speed-bumps. Have you ever tried riding a pot-hole laden dirt road at night, without much for a flashlight? It's a little scary, and you end up very apprehensive. I changed my shift from 8am-8pm to 7am-7pm so I won't have to do that anymore. Last night was the first time I got home in daylight, and I watched the sunset. It was gorgeous. With the hot, dusty horizon, the sun is blazingly orange as it sets behind palm fronds. The sun rise (I accidentally called it the "sun morning" for some strange reason today when I was very tired) looks almost exactly the same. I took some pictures last night, which I hadn't done in a while.

~Amber

American perspective can change here in Baghdad:

Last night as Monica and I were leaving the shower trailer, we heard a popping noise. She said, "Oh, look, fireworks!" Up in the sky were red trails of light streaming toward us. It was pretty, but alarming. I asked if they were tracer rounds or flares, and we both started walking as quickly as we could back to our trailer in our wet flip-flops (try running in those). Half-way there, she says, "You know, those are just flares. We send off flares signifying that there's a convoy headed out." Immediately I thought that didn't make sense, since that would let the enemy know a convoy was leaving the Post. I kept running back to the trailer as the red streams of light soared above. When we got to our door, some men from her Company were standing around watching the light show. I asked, "Are those just flares?" They said, "No, those are tracer rounds. You can hear the fire-fight. It's not that far away." I looked at Monica who said sheepishly, "I thought you'd sleep better if you thought they were just flares." We watched, a little concerned, as the tracer rounds increased in number. I commented on
the fact that what goes up must come down... Another person approached and said, "Iraq just beat the Aussies in football." Suddenly it dawned upon us that we weren't watching a firefight but a celebration.

This morning at Church a man stood up to say he wanted to praise the Lord. He held up a bullet and said it came through his trailer last night during the celebratory shooting.

It makes me laugh. Yes, I know this is dangerous, but there's nothing we can really do about it. I'm sure someone is trying to teach the Iraqis the dangers of celebratory shooting, but it's such a long-lived custom in this region and could take a while. I can't worry, I can't get afraid. If I start, I'll never be able to do my job. All we can do here is laugh, albeit nervously.

Today our power went out for nearly an hour, which meant the A/C was cut off. I can't imagine what it must have been like to work in Northern Africa during WWII. The power came back on, work resumed, and "groundhog day" continued. (Every day is the same here.)

As I bought a bike today (my third one this year), I should soon be speeding around the Post and won't have to worry anymore about walking home alone in the dark. :)

My Grandpa Lincoln died the other day from what I think was a heart attack. It's been difficult getting ahold of anyone who knows anything (like my mother). Everyone went to California for the funeral... and I'm very far away in Iraq. I hope, above all, my grandmother makes it alright though this.

Work has been insanely busy. I didn't know I had it in me to work straight through for 13 hours without taking any real breaks. I've taken over phase one editing of the daily product we disseminate every evening, and it can keep me very occupied. Not only do I write my own assessments, but I gather everyone else's, quality check it, and send it on. We have our senior analyst do a sanity check on the actual assessments, of course. (Good thing, since I'm so new here and hardly know my area enough to make insightful assessments.)

I received an email yesterday saying they had given me a trailer, only.... they had given me the title "Major" and had me down as a man. I don't know who thought a person with the first name "Amber" would be male, but there it was. They had me rooming with a male major. I quickly called and found they had realized their mistake, but were still going to give me a trailer. I moved all of my stuff out of my tent and made my way to the trailer. (I was allowed to borrow the car, which helped immensely.) Finally, I met another female 1Lt. Believe it or not, she talks more than I do. I was so relieved to learn she was very open, friendly, and helpful. We talked until it was very late, which made me think of sleep-overs from when I was younger. We occupy 1/3 of a trailer, and each have a twin-size bed, a night stand, and a locker (just like the ones in the hallways of High Schools across America). Not much to store clothing in, but I'll eventually buy a set of drawers. I also will need to get a bike, because work is about a mile away now, at least. Anyways, my living conditions have improved -- with one exception: we're very close to the perimeter of the base now, and right next to the Helo MediVac landing pad. With obvious reason, our trailer shook often throughout the night and morning because of the nearby helicopters and mortar rounds that were hitting no too far away. I didn't care -- I was just too happy to finally have a bed.

They cancelled our days off, until further notice, because we have so much to do. I was upset when I found out, but got used to it. Every day is the same here. At least I'm busy! Sundays are the only days that have a slight break because I get to go to church, and that takes one hour out of my routine. A great hour. I was thinking yesterday how normally I don't want to waste a morning going to church, but here -- I wish we had church every morning.

Wish I had something insightful or meaningful to say, but I don't. My brain leaks out at work, and by this time of day, 5pm, I can barely put thought together. I still have 3 hours of work, too.