Baghdad Journal

On the Road to Baghdad Soon

When Brandon and I got off the bus from Aqaba a man approached us to offer his services. Ebrahim Jamel, a tour guide and driver, said he'd been to Baghdad twice in the last month. He drove in an American photographer who went to photograph for a week. "I make my own films also," he said. "I take pictures for myself." He photographed the remnants of Saddam's palace. The U.S. annihilated it during the invasion, hoping to kill Saddam. "The bomb blew everything away," he said. "There is nothing. It made a crater of 20 meters." He said he could also take us on a tour of Syria, or guide us to Petra. "I take you on a camel tour," he said. "Whatever you like."

Ebrahim handed me his business card. "You need a driver," he said. "I drive you." Brandon borrowed his cell phone for one dinar to call Lamis. She told us to return to the Lotus.

I slept for the next four hours. Can't seem to get enough. There's so much noise everywhere--the horns honking at all hours of the night, the muzzein from the minarets, the hotel neighbors who blast televisions refusing to sleep, the loud music on the four hour bus ride to and from Aqaba. "Do you think there's any peace in Iraq?" I ask Brandon, hoping that even in a country at war I'll be able to sleep regularly.

Leave for Iraq soon--in the next day or two. Still working out the details of how we'll travel. A twelve hour journey to Baghdad. "It's not like the states, where you have rest-stops every few miles," Lamis said. "You want to be well when you travel." In bed with an upset stomach this afternoon. Lamis calls the hotel and asks the manager to send up tea with sage. "This will help you." It did.