25th or 26th of December, 2007

My post script comments will be in italics. I will attempt to keep the transcriptions as I wrote them at the time, though I may edit them to protect identities or to protect myself (selfish as that might sound, I am prone to shooting myself in the foot).

Closing thoughts, Exodus, Day 1.

I am lying on a cot in a tent on Baghdad International Airport. I layed out my poncho and liner, folded length-wise on my cot to serve as a temperature barrier. I am now in my sleeping bag lying on the pillow Jessica sent with the stuffed dog (presumably from our dogs) that is also on the cot.

I said goodbye to [my very good friend and interpreter], Jimmy on the way out of the barracks: my akuya. I have since written him an email, but have gotten nothing in return. I shall have to call and make sure he is alright. When I sit and think on Iraq, I often get depressed that my life here in America is not as productive as in Dora. There, we made things happen every day to make the Iraqis' lives better. Here, I watch life pass quickly by, hoping for my retirement so I can put myself in a position to improving my environment again. Here, I am a spectator of current events.

We had lunch with Lieutenant Fiedler and Staff Sergeant Brown from a civil affairs advisory team. They spoke to me at length about the provisional reconstruction teams and I must confess that I am quite interested. There are three to six month deployments - as opposed to fifteen. Jessica would be able to apply to law school at Campbell University, her alma mater (?). And I can seek out my degree while active duty, possibly at NC State. After dealing with raw sewage and seeing children walking down streets in sometimes mid-calf deep shit water, I developed a desire to figure out how to use composting to resolve the issue. I have since read several books on the subject and determined my future to be in Agricultural Engineering (Soils concenctration) with a double major - or minor - in microbiology. But we'll get into that in depth as we go along.

(This is sewage, not water)

Then there is the opportunity for me to work with composting across the world. I am eager to make my first sawdust toilet and even more for my first batch of compost. I spent many patrols talking to Doc Willer about the composting he had seen in Boulder. He brought up alot of interesting ideas for civil planning (the green belt in Boulder), composting, and the list goes on. We discussed my design for a home compost bin that I might be able to use in a residential area. The big obstacles are smell (otherwise no one will know what I am doing) and sanitation (children playing in the area being exposed to something dangerous).

Thiebe. Aminah. Ghofran. Dora'a. The pretty little girl in the red, flower-print dress. Tariq and daughter. Jimmy, Michael, Alex, and Rose. I will miss you all. I love you all.

I think about playing soccer with Jessica at the park near our house. Maybe when I get home. And counting. I remember thinking about the local kids coming and playing with us. Then, once I got home, reality sank in. In Iraq, I had been able to walk down the street (after we dominated the insurgents) and play with the children. We spoke to all of them, and many tipped us off to bad people. But back in America, the days of innocence are dead and forgotten. When I was a boy, I remember playing in the neighborhood and sometimes getting a spanking from a neighbor down the street. Then they would tell my dad and I would get another, or a coscaron (hit on the head) at the very least. Nowadays, should I tickle a child, the parents would probably have me arrested as a pedophile. I wonder how we came to this point in my 35 short years on the planet.