I really hate to admit it, but I gotta disagree with Teh President's assertion that the Muslim call to prayer "is the most beautiful sound on Earth." I've heard it a lot over the past few years, and, maybe it's just my Westernized "weaned on Mozart, raised on Rock 'n' Roll" ears, but to me, it sounds over-stylized and -- considering its purpose -- rather monotonously dirgeful.
Except for tonight.
Right at sunset, after the polls closed over here, the mezzuins started in. They were chanting the same prayers, but the rhythm was subtly different -- they were almost *singing* the prayers, and there were half-heard, half-imagined undertones of music in the background.
They were *happy*.
I never heard happy calls to prayer before, even in Bosnia during Bajram, which is the Bosnian four-day equivalent of Christmas.
Since it's way too early for the election results to be known, there could only have been one thing for them to be happy about -- the fact that there *was* an election, and they voted for whomever they chose, without a diktat from the central government, and without fear that someone would inform on the neighborhood enforcers that they hadn't voted the Party line. They voted for the candidate of *their* choosing.
If the mezzies were happy, that meant the population at large probably was, too. And, having spent -- *a-hem* -- a little bit of time in this part of the world, I knew *exactly* what was gonna happen.
Celebratory fire. In a country where just about everyone has an automatic weapon, that means *lots* of celebratory fire.
I just spent the last 45 minutes watching the tracers and listening to the poppitty-pop-pow-pokpokpok of probably 90% of the adult male population of Kirkuk making a joyful noise.
And, because I knew none of it was aimed my way, I relaxed and watched the show -- secure in the knowledge that even if the stuff *had* been launched in my direction, I was well out of the beaten zone for the inevitable rain of spent rounds.
Half an hour into the fireworks, the Command Post got on the horn to alert everybody to the fact that there was shooting going on -- I guess they were watching the show, too, and suddenly remembered that the Air Force folks here might be in a panic over the noise...
Update: I just walked over to -- and back from, obviously -- the cofee house to grab a nightcap. Every bunker I passed was full of folks wearing USAF Glow-in-the-Dark-Power-Ranger PT suits and IBA.
Eyes big as saucers.
*snerk*
Except for tonight.
Right at sunset, after the polls closed over here, the mezzuins started in. They were chanting the same prayers, but the rhythm was subtly different -- they were almost *singing* the prayers, and there were half-heard, half-imagined undertones of music in the background.
They were *happy*.
I never heard happy calls to prayer before, even in Bosnia during Bajram, which is the Bosnian four-day equivalent of Christmas.
Since it's way too early for the election results to be known, there could only have been one thing for them to be happy about -- the fact that there *was* an election, and they voted for whomever they chose, without a diktat from the central government, and without fear that someone would inform on the neighborhood enforcers that they hadn't voted the Party line. They voted for the candidate of *their* choosing.
If the mezzies were happy, that meant the population at large probably was, too. And, having spent -- *a-hem* -- a little bit of time in this part of the world, I knew *exactly* what was gonna happen.
Celebratory fire. In a country where just about everyone has an automatic weapon, that means *lots* of celebratory fire.
I just spent the last 45 minutes watching the tracers and listening to the poppitty-pop-pow-pokpokpok of probably 90% of the adult male population of Kirkuk making a joyful noise.
And, because I knew none of it was aimed my way, I relaxed and watched the show -- secure in the knowledge that even if the stuff *had* been launched in my direction, I was well out of the beaten zone for the inevitable rain of spent rounds.
Half an hour into the fireworks, the Command Post got on the horn to alert everybody to the fact that there was shooting going on -- I guess they were watching the show, too, and suddenly remembered that the Air Force folks here might be in a panic over the noise...
Update: I just walked over to -- and back from, obviously -- the cofee house to grab a nightcap. Every bunker I passed was full of folks wearing USAF Glow-in-the-Dark-Power-Ranger PT suits and IBA.
Eyes big as saucers.
*snerk*
I was once visiting some of my USAF brothers over on their side of the base during last tour. They were new in town, we'd been around for a while, just went to say "hi, howaya". Shortly after we arrived something went boom somewhere not far away.
"What was that?" Asks new guy.
"Probably a rocket."
"Should we do something?"
"If you heard it you're okay."
So about a half hour later the sirens went off. "What the hell is that about?" I asked, because I had already forgotten the boom. Then someone else poked their head in the office and yelled "we're under attack!!! Get your gear on and hit the floor!"
We said farewell, welcome to baghdad, don't be strangers, and wandered casually out to the Humvee and the ride back to our side.
They never sound it until fifteen minutes after the last round hits...
Stay safe.
Relatedly, I has to ask; what were the results? Will they know? What about a peaceful transfer of power? Is that likely to happen?
We're personally interested in only a couple of the results, but I'll only expound on how some of the results might affect our operation here -- *after* those results are in. After all, the Iraqis are footing the bill for what we're doing here, not (for a refreshing change) the US taxpayers. One big change that could occur is that we'd move the whole school to Tikrit and resurrect the old Iraqi Air College.
I ain't smart enough to be a Progressyve pundit, who all seem to be able to pontificate over what is definitely gonna happen over the next few years when what's gonna happen depends on something that hasn't happened.
There will be the usual incidents from the takfiri attempting to "prove" the new government can't protect the average citizens, of course.
But right now, the fact that they organized and held a nationwide election without splitting their country at the seams is the important thing.
-Lt-
Ernie, I forgot to thank you for telling me what IBA is. Thank you. :D
Well, then, I will wait to hear it from y'all. In other news, I got to meet Cassandra...
An Abbott meets Costello moment relegated to a single line in the comment section of an obscure (but respected) niche blog, on a post that even the *author* didn't spend more than two hours proofreading?
Oh, the humanity!
Give.
Hey! That's *us* you're talking about!
Oh. Wait.
Never mind.
Using "respected" was kind of over-the-top...
Cassie is just persimmons, people.
I had a local delicacy for lunch -- pistachio nuts soaked in what I believe was cosmoline, then rolled in capsicum pepper. Not unlike munching on razor wire jerky.
Cassie is just persimmons
She's an astringent? I thought she was 'Piskie...
we know the alarms only sound after everything is over with. Hiding in the bunkers and putting on the IBA is as much a joke to us as it is to you. Just like any other SOP sent down from on high, we gotta follow it regardless of whether or not it makes any sense. I know it's our fault for joining the AF, but c'mon. The guys in the bunkers know it's lame, but we don't have a choice in the matter.
Sensitive fellers, eh?
*:^ D
Heh. There is a hint of Pixie about her...
Actually the only time I spent in a bunker was on another (Army) post I was visiting. During an attack. I was on my way TO the latrine so I 'didn't notice' everyone was in the bunkers until I was on my way back. I considered not noticing them then, but decided I'd be a nice visitor and play by their rules.
Good times. You can't stand up in one, so you either crouch or sit in the gravel. The week before they'd lost someone to a rocket strike on a CHU. Local legend had it a t-wall had actually been knocked over and been the direct cause of death.
My name for all that was "Rocket Bingo." I'm not certain, but I'd bet the casualty numbers for the second half of '07 on VBC were probably comparable to the toll in the streets of most any AO for the same period.
Misleading headlines like these invariably followed.
When an MRAP comes sliding down the road at you going *sideways* it's nice to have the option of jumping over a Jersey barrier or dodging between the T-walls...