After lunch (lunch time, I mean; I don’t think I ate lunch) a battalion colonel took me for a three-mile walk through the markets of eastern Baghdad. The temperature was more than 110 degrees, though with the humidity and the lack of a breeze, I was told later that it was more like 120 degrees. (It’s not a dry heat; it’s a hot heat, in case you were wondering.)
We went at a pretty good clip, too fast for me to take enough photos. At one point my small stride and frequent stops to take photos got our group, the tail end, separated from the commander. That part of the market was covered and cavernous, a narrower and dirtier version of the grand bazaar I saw a couple of years ago in Istanbul. We’d lost each other for a few minutes. A quick radio check made for a quick reunion.
The markets sold everything – X-Boxes, high heels, apricots, fish, lentils, Post-its, turmeric, cherries, underwear, bags, hoses. It was late in the day, after 2 p.m., and most were closing for the day. That was lucky, I think. I’d hate to be there in a crowd.
These open markets have been targets for car bombs and suicide bombs since the violence began in 2003. Many groups try and track the numbers of civilians killed in Iraq since 2003. Some put the number at more than 100,000, but it's really hard to know. It's hard to rely on some police and military reports; in other cases, it's hard to count the bodies in a place where burial is done on the same day as death. It's also hard to define civilians in a place where it's still hard to define the enemy. It is clear, though, that many have died buying tomatoes, chickens, eggplants and bread. The violence has slowed in the past few weeks, but some are worried. As the Americans pull back from the cities, some fear the violence will increase again. No one knows for sure what will happen.
Before the market, we walked through old Baghdad were we saw the city’s first post office, from 1921. After, we went into a muhallah. Iraq groups living areas together in rectangular grids full of a few streets and alleys. Each of these boxes is a muhallah with its own number for addresses and identification. Boulevards and businesses fill some muhallahs. Others are networks of narrow alleys with low-slung houses, much like Beijing’s hutongs. After the market, we walked down one of these alleys.
Children and parents came out to see what we were doing. Some of the adults laughed at us – I imagine we looked pretty outlandish in all our gear on their little alley. We walked in a staggered single file, with an open sewage dividing the path. Kids ran around in sandals or barefoot.
The last time I was on an alley like this was in 2005 with some Iraqi Army soldiers. I’d wanted to a walking patrol with Iraqis for a story. The U.S. soldiers I was with gave me loads of warnings on the way. Don’t get surrounded by the Iraqi soldiers. Don’t walk on their left side; they don’t use safetys on the guns and they may go off. Don’t get too far away from any American soldier. It was nerve-wracking and hot, and served no real purpose except to make us all sweat.
It’s hard to remember that now. I’ve been on bases this summer where Iraqi and U.S. soldiers share the same driveways, the same motorpools. They visit each other’s offices without appointment, and in some places, the Iraqis are allowed in the U.S. command centers. No one has mentioned any warnings about kidnappings or ambushes, at least among Iraqi Army soldiers. I’m still not sure if trust is the right word, but everyone seems much more comfortable around each other.
After our walk, and me drinking three huge bottles of water, we went to a community soccer game. The commander I was with just needed to make a stop-by. He took off his Kevlar helmet while he watched they boys play. As we sat there, it began to sprinkle. Rain, or at least rain clouds, isn’t unheard of in the summer. But I had forgotten how it rains in June in Baghdad. The drops have to fall through the sand in the air. By t
he time the water hits your arm, it’s already turned to mud.
1 comment:
Raining mud - what an image. Thanks for sharing this. I've often wondered what the marketplace is like.
You'll be seeing greenery sooner than you know.
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