Naked in Baghdad

book read: Anne Garrels, Naked in Baghdad.
If you remember vividly Garrels' reporting from the early days of the war on NPR, this book will seem familiar. It's mostly day by day 'journal entries' from her 2 lead-up visits in Dec. and Jan., and then her extended stay as the war began on March 20, 2003, with occasional emails sent by her husband to their circle of friends and family reporting on her. Her voice is distinctive, and this has more of the background details of managing life in a city that's being bombed amidst a tightly controlling bureaucracy as it falls apart, relationships with the other reporters and her drivers and minders, and reminiscences from other war zones she's covered. Yes, she really talked to Robert Seigel naked, from her hotel room, at 1am local time. She didn't tell Robert she was naked.

When I was a child, I wanted to be a war correspondent when I grew up. I had a distinct fantasy about reporting from a rooftop in Kabul as the Russians took the city (since this occurred in, what, 1980, I was 8. A romantic and strangely well-informed 8.) Anne Garrels didn't intend to be one, but she turned out to be excellent at it (her husband describes it as a switch that comes on in her, transforming her into this hyper-organized, driven person, in contrast to the person he sees at home). Looking at the skills she musters - logistics of housing and food; politics with local authorities, feuding minders who want to hire their nephews to drive her, and the other reporters; and the ability to quickly develop trust and close communication and deep understanding with local people, from families she visits once to her driver Amer, who becomes family to her - well, I'd have made a shitty war correspondent.

good afternoon

Casper is alseep on the couch. I think she's getting sick again; lots of coughing. Hope it isn't stay-home worthy.

I have Indian Chicken and Rice simmering on the stove. The recipe calls it biryani, but it's too inauthentic to be that really - but it is good, easy, and versatile. It's in our Mongo Skillet, a double batch of which half is going to a family with a newborn in the neighborhood. The fun part will be getting it to their house, at the other end of the neighborhood, as mr. flea is in Raleigh working and his return uncertain. If it doesn't rain (it's warm and blustery and dark, but has been all day and no rain yet) we'll walk. But it'll be dark.

Casper's nose is stained blue from a morning gorge on frozen blueberries. Her face has been washed twice now and nose is still blue.

This peace is well-deserved, because we had a stressful yesterday - ran morning errands, including spending $120 at the grocery store, then did the accounts and discovered that due to marital miscommunications (and the payroll deduction errors in my paycheck) we had just overdrawn our account. mr. flea faced down my despair and assembled our change stash and sold some books and CDs that were waiting for such treatment and amassed enough cash to get us out of the predicament (we have other resources, but nothing that would clear fast enough to avoid overdraft charges - we don't have another account at the same bank or an electronic transfer set up with our Money Market account.)

My mood of doom and destruction (have I noted I hate making mistakes, and hate not being able to reliably live within my income?) persisted, however, somewhat spoiling our "date" sponsored by the nanny who took Casper and her niece (aged 9) out. Casper was wildly excited to see Megan, the niece, and the nanny did this for free because she's nice. And what did we do? Well, we had no money, but we went to Toys R Us to look for a birthday present for our nephew (coming up on 7; legos are such an easy and good gift for the phase he's in) and to scope out possible Elmo-based bribe/presents for our planned "weaning party" for Casper, tentatively scheduled for next weekend. Been to a Toys R Us lately? This one was more depressing than overwhelming, which is saying something. So doubly burdened by poverty and aimless consumerism, we went out for good Indian food and were home by 6:30. mr. flea was very patient with me.