Wetting a Very Parched Whistle

Last night I finally found the lone "official" location for getting alcohol in the embassy compound, a space that can only in the loosest sense be called a bar. It's called "The Off-Site" because it's across the street from the embassy proper, in an industrial area on the ground floor of a building that used to be associated with the UN Oil-for-Food program. And it's only open Friday nights for a few hours. Good enough for my first drink in three weeks.

The best (and pretty much only) thing about the place is that the drinks are cheap and the portions -- because the bartenders are volunteering amateurs -- generous. Other than that, it's a like a reception area for a small office decorated with Christmas lights. Two lonely stools stand by the "bar" and white plastic lawn furniture that has seen better days fills out the rest of the place.

The closest thing to which I can compare it from my experience is a college dorm party in England -- an American ex-pat feel with lots of kids "studying abroad." I spent most of the night talking to an Australian ex-special forces ex-intelligence guy now working as a strategic planning contractor. We discussed rugby, using tribes (and tribal intelligence) to defeat the insurgency, and (after a few more $3 Johnnie Walker Red doubles) the meaning of life. "Power and influence is ultimately rubbish," he opined. "Love a woman and raise a kid well -- that's how you lead a good life."

I also met a U.S. contractor -- some sort of financial/computer guru -- who's helping automate the Iraqi stock market. And this guy wasn't a wet-behind-the-ears Silicon Valley whizkid, but rather someone who's been programming highly sensitive computers since the 60s. Told me there was a lot of money wasted on his project in the early days but now things are on track, except for security concerns imposing all sorts of delays.

My final interlocutor was a State Department Arabist who had a slightly different point of view from the Aussie. According to this person, it's all about the people we throw our lot in to run the government and its ministries -- and their connections to Iran and various militias.

Fascinating stuff, and again a surreal environment. Next week I'll have to bring my camera and take some pics. (Speaking of pictures, the reason I haven't been posting any is because we need to get permission to be able to take any whatsoever -- even, e.g., the pool or the ballroom decorations -- I'm working on it.)