I wish I could convey to you the absurdity of this place. I can't. In taking letters and forming them into words, I am creating order that is not otherwise present. If I were to be true to the absurdity and irrationality I see around me, there would be only a jumble of letters before you.
My running around from place to place trying to get permission to help in Baghdad's devastated hospitals has been a prime example. The hospitals are desperate, and most of them could easily put me to use, but they wouldn't dare for fear that I am an American spy.
"And how can I prove I'm not a spy?" "Get approval from the Ministry of Health" "And who runs the ministry?" "The Americans." "But if I were an American spy, wouldn't I get the minister himself to say I'm not and write me a letter?"
Long pause....
"I guess."
I must have had this conversation in one form or another a thousand times. Iraq has a fully functional bureaucracy to rule over nothing and interfere with everything. Every ministry is a fully American-funded Ministry of Catch 22.
I got a drive with Dahr and his "fixer" to the Ministry of Health today. They had an interview with the Deputy Minister of Health. I wanted to follow-up on my "application" for approval to volunteer at a hospital.
We ran from floor to floor looking for the Deputy Minister, or any spokesperson, to no avail. We had just missed each of the four or five people who could speak, and so finally an appointment was set for tomorrow.
As for my approval, it was still waiting in the hands of "my lord the honourable Minister of Health" who was out of the country on business. He would respond post-haste.
I had set today as my last day of trying to play nice with the bullshit bureaucratic route. Tomorrow, I leave for Fallujah, where the red tape is supposedly non-existent.
tarek