Easter Sunday in Iraq

Marhaba! (Hello in Iraq – personally I’m a much bigger fan of Aloha). It’s Easter Sunday (at least, here it is. Ignore the date and time that my blog post says, it’s wrong). Apparently we’re 14 hours ahead of Hawaii time and 8 hours ahead of the East Coast time, i.e. – it’s 1200 (noon) here on Sunday, 0400 (4 am) on the East Coast on Sunday morning and 2000 (10 pm) Saturday night in Hawaii – or so they tell me. I’m getting settled into the tents we’re staying in for the next few days. Each officer has their own bunk bed which we’ve draped camouflage sheets over to maintain what very little bit of privacy we have here. They’re very well air conditioned (so much so I sleep in a fleece under a blanket) and except for the dreaded thin veneer of sand and dust that is already a part of my once clean life but now covers my hands, my clothes, my sunglasses, my sheets, my lungs and that gives me what I like to call ‘sand buggers’, the accommodations are comfortable and peaceful. The showers and the head (aka the toilet) are a short walk away and buses to work and to the chow hall run every 10 minutes or so. The chow hall here is bigger than a Costco and although we’re eating exceptionally well, my body is suffering from heartburn as it gets used to the increased food consumption.

It amazes me all of the things that people send us over here! We have free phone cards, toiletries, movies, current episodes of all of our favorite TV shows (including LOST and HEROS, my two favorites). Infact, except for dark navy/black sheets that I need to drape over my bunk and some pictures, Hawaiian tapestries, etc to hang at my work space, I have almost everything I could ever need.

On this Easter Sunday I have fond memories of last year when I had a barbeque at my house in Hawaii and an Easter Egg Hunt that still gets talked about to this day. I remember the smell of cloves in my mom’s house as she pulled the ham out of the oven, I remember Easter Sunday visits to the Cleavers and most of all, I remember eating those marshmallow color sugar coated candy Peeps which I used to eat until I’d get sick. But today is a much different picture. I carry my 9mm pistol close to my side as rumors are gathering that the Iraqi Army may be allowed on base for training any day now and although we support them, there are those that don’t remain true to their cause. I walk through the ICU of the base hospital and find it filled with not just adult (if you consider 18-22 year olds adults) military casualties of IEDs (Independent Explosive Devices placed on the sides of the roads), but also with a 12 year old boy who lost his left leg and right foot to an Insurgent Sniper who didn’t feel that he should be partial to a victim’s age. We’re reminded daily that we’re in a combat zone and although we may be served ham and potatoes for dinner tonight, Easter in Iraq is no joke and just isn’t the same as the quiet little town of Bethlehem, PA. But if I close my eyes real tight, I can still see my friends tearing up my house for Easter eggs and I can still hear my mom saying “It’s ready!”