Oh, the luxury!
Jayme and I have arrived in Amman and are now safely ensconced in Hotel Le Royale. The luxury of it all simply astounds me. I hadn't realized just how much stress I'd been under in Baghdad until we got here.
We drove to the airport in the darkened back seat of of Imad's '91 black Caprice, guard in the front seat with an AK-47 and Jayme and I watching to the left and rear with our pistols drawn. It's not usually like that, but today Al-Sadr is rallying support all over Baghdad. So we're not fucking around.
Flash forward to a few hours later, and we're driving through the peaceful, beautiful countryside of Jordan. A friend drove us in his fast, quiet car, while everyone on the road obeyed traffic control and stayed within marked lanes on the road. There are no armed men. We aren't armed either. There are no potholes. All signs are in Arabic and in English. There is beautiful landscaping and blue sky.
It's so civilised I wanted to cry. My shoulders slumped, my body relaxed, and eight months of the stress of Baghdad flowed out. I didn't even realize I was carrying it.
At Le Royale, we were shown to the Club Lounge, where we met Jumana, the manager. We spoke for some time about Iraq, and she showed us the picture of an American friend of hers. His name was Tim Hager, an American civilian killed in Iraq. Jumana says they should have been married when he returned. She took two months off work to mourn after his death.
There are more stories like this. More than I could ever take the time to write. But I don't want to worry you, so I'll get back to my vacation.
We drove to the airport in the darkened back seat of of Imad's '91 black Caprice, guard in the front seat with an AK-47 and Jayme and I watching to the left and rear with our pistols drawn. It's not usually like that, but today Al-Sadr is rallying support all over Baghdad. So we're not fucking around.
Flash forward to a few hours later, and we're driving through the peaceful, beautiful countryside of Jordan. A friend drove us in his fast, quiet car, while everyone on the road obeyed traffic control and stayed within marked lanes on the road. There are no armed men. We aren't armed either. There are no potholes. All signs are in Arabic and in English. There is beautiful landscaping and blue sky.
It's so civilised I wanted to cry. My shoulders slumped, my body relaxed, and eight months of the stress of Baghdad flowed out. I didn't even realize I was carrying it.
At Le Royale, we were shown to the Club Lounge, where we met Jumana, the manager. We spoke for some time about Iraq, and she showed us the picture of an American friend of hers. His name was Tim Hager, an American civilian killed in Iraq. Jumana says they should have been married when he returned. She took two months off work to mourn after his death.
There are more stories like this. More than I could ever take the time to write. But I don't want to worry you, so I'll get back to my vacation.