24 March 2009

Adam and Oprah?

The past month has been a learning experience. My days were filled with tasks and to-do lists. There were many late nights and early mornings between having Watch Officer duties and meeting my platoon for debrief after a night operation. I left the confines of Camp Bahariyah whenever possible just to feel a little more “deployed”. The preponderance of my missions focus on engaging local Iraqi Security Force (ISF) leaders. The organization of the ISF is enough to confuse the best of administrators. There are the Provincial Security Forces (PSF), Iraqi Police (IP), Iraqi Civilian Watch (ICW) or Sahwah (Sons of Iraq), and of course the Iraqi Army. The PSF and IP have a professional rivalry which can get unprofessional very quickly when money grants from Coalition Forces (CF) is involved. I would liken it to the rivalry between the Army and Marine Corps. The PSF and IP carry out a very similar role in security for Iraq, the PSF are kinda like sheriff departments and the IP would be regular town cops. For the most part the leadership in both is very competent and disciplined. Some are good leaders, some take advantage of their leadership position to better their own life. All in all the PSF and IP are doing their job. They are keeping Iraq safe, we don’t have much of a role in that anymore. I serve a more advisory and support role than anything else. Most of this is played out over long three hour meetings with the leadership. I have discovered the Iraqi way of doing business is very slow and deliberate. Nothing is decided too quickly. I will go meet with a LtCol in the PSF and I might only have 10 minutes of actual business to conduct with him, but it turns into at least a two hour ordeal. They serve you chai, ask how you’re doing, you talk about everything from soccer to life in America, then they decide we need to eat, they serve a meal, you talk some more and then finally at the right moment you bring up your point of business, it is discussed, a solution is decided and then goodbyes are said. The key is to bring up your business at the right moment. Too early and you’re considered rude because you are impersonal…too late and you’re considered rude because you are wasting their time. The goodbye process itself can last 30 minutes.

Most of the ISF I interact with are jovial people. They love to joke and laugh. I have built some good rapport with the PSF in my area of overwatch. I have an OP located at their compund and so I frequently find myself there to inspect operations, fix communication gear, or just get away from Bahariyah. The PSF officers there all call me “Mullazem Adam” which means Lieutenant Adam. Then they say “number one man”, because Adam is also the first man in their creation story. I initially tried to correct them insisting that I was named Adams but they didn’t care.

There is a 17-year-old kid at the OP that speaks near perfect English without any accent. When you hear him talk you’re almost floored at his ability, because most every Iraqi speaks English with a heavy accent. I asked him where he learned English and he said very frankly “television”. I asked him what shows he watched and he replied “Oprah Winfrey and Dr. Phil”. It was funny b
ecause then I realized his charismatic personality was a direct result of watching American TV personalities. He talks and acts like a TV host. I thought about writing Oprah to have him on the show…I would be interested to know how many others in the world learned English from Oprah. It is a remarkable accomplishment, but the kid definitely has a skewed perspective on what America is like.

I’ll leave you with a humorous anecdote about myself. All the platoon commanders have nightly meetings with the XO to discuss the next day and tasks to be accomplished. We were in the middle of a rather lengthy meeting when I decided I needed to sit down. I saw an electric converter box up against the wall and I squatted down to take a seat. A loud blast and hiss made me jolt up straight and whirl around expecting to see an exploded electric box. At this point all hope of being inconspicuous is gone and all eyes are on me. I then found out the problem was not the electric box. As I squatted down I had brushed a small fire extinguisher sitting next to the box. The extinguisher had no safety pin and immediately spewed forth a large amount of extinguisher chemicals. We all laughed and got back to the meeting when seconds later we were all having trouble breathing because of the irritating chemicals floating in from the other room. Needless to say my colleagues threw out many jokes about my fire fighting flatulence.

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