Ahhh...the first day of work. There is nothing like starting your new
job with an impromptu conversation with the outgoing senior NCO over a
Belgian waffle on how the section you are going into has a LOT of room
for improvement. I guess that means I can't screw up things too badly,
doesn't it? The building I'm working in is pretty new which is a stark
contrast to most of the structures in the International Zone. A
majority of the palaces and towers bear the scars of bomb and mortar
attacks done by the insurgents over the past 4 years (not to mention the
damage we did back in 2003). New construction is something I haven't
seen much of in Baghdad, but that could be due to the fact that I just
can't see a lot behind the tall barriers and guard towers. The building
I'll be spending most of my time in, along with the mess hall across the
way, are both fairly modern. I have been assigned a work station
amongst a row of cheap particle board desks that barely supports a
computer monitor and keyboard on its sagging top. The working
environment is not very egro friendly (where is Rhyne when I need him?)
and only after a day of being on the computer I can feel the onset of
carpel tunnel syndrome in my wrist and forearms. Of course, the 3 hours
of playing PSP at the airport in Kuwait probably didn't help matters
much. I don't have a desk phone which isn't too bad since they have put
me in for a military cell phone. Most communication is done by cell
here and it will be nice if I get one of the fancy phones that will
allow calls back to the states. Even though I put a full day in,
getting my email set up was the only real accomplishment of the day.
Around 8 tonight I returned to my temporary room which resembles a
closet more than an actual room. In fact, it's miniscule, but not as
small as Kevin and Brendan's room. Oh sure, they have their own
bathroom, 9" satellite ready TV and micro fridge, but at least my room
has enough space for my roommate and I to stand at the same time on the
floor space not occupied by furniture. The bath and shower trailer is
about 40 yards away and while the trek is a little annoying, especially
when I've had to pee in the wee hours of the last few nights, but it's
not too bad when I think of the alternative. My new roomie, Thomas, a
fellow IRR call back, discovered that the metal his bed frame was
extruded from resembled tin foil more than steel and he posed for a
great Posturepedic add picture that I hope to post some time. Our
trailer sits in the shadow of one of Saddam's many palaces and we are
surrounded by giant Texas barriers (called T-walls) to help shield our
living quarters from the stray (or not so stray) mortar rounds that
frequent the IZ. Oddly enough, it's comforting to know that I have a
little bit of Texas keeping me safe.
Interesting fact of the day: They don't call it the Green Zone anymore.
Instead, they like to call it the International Zone, or "IZ" for short.
See, being green would mean that things are safe, and technically, there
isn't a place around here that is very "safe" in the true sense of the
word.
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