It’s a Small World

We left Karbala early ish and headed back to Baghdad. Close to Baghdad we ran into a large thunderstorm. It was totally delightful, hearing the rain pound on the car, seeing the lightening and listening to the thunder. In fact I fell asleep. Baghdad was a flooded mess and men were frantically trying to clear debris from drain plugs. It obviously didn’t work, cause even late in the day you still had to drive through some nice deep water.

Hadfia dropped us at Qutaiba’s flat, and we told him goodbye. In spite of not really speaking English he was an excellent person to have with us. Qutaiba was bubbly and flappy as ever and that’s all I’ll say while I’m hungry.

The Ziggurat by Baghdad, another really big, really old site was our first destination, but they were closed for the day. Bummer. So off we went to the big blue onion. That’s the monument you see in so many Baghdad photos. It’s also very big, but not very old. We spent time strolling around there and enjoying the perfect weather. Naturally Zach got into mud puddles and what have you, but we’re used to that.

We had seen something about a local artist market on a Baghdad tour video, but Qutaiba seemed totally blank on where to find it. We showed him the vid and everything, but he was major confused. Finally he said for sure he knew, absolutely! So off we puddled and when he said “ we are here” we were at some classy looking gallery that clearly was not in our budget. Nor was it our taste. Think modern art made out of kitchen sponges. But he was sure! The lady at the gallery was extremely nice and actually explained to him what we were wanting and where it was, but he still couldn’t get it. By this time it was past lunch and we decided we needed to eat. That’s a challenge, convincing this guy it’s food time. Finally Heath spotted a little restaurant and said “there! We want to eat there!” It took some backtracking and doing, and Qutaiba wasn’t a bit sure where to park and was about to just drive away, but we said we’d just get out and he could find a solution for the car. Interestingly, there was suddenly a parking spot right there;). In we trotted to eat the most Iraqi spread of food you can think of. See pic below.

While we sat there, Heath pulled out his phone to show Qutaiba the video once more, then he glanced up and said “Oh, Bill is here”. It was truly, really, in the flesh, the guy from the video. We had whatsapped with him a couple times before coming as well. He was pumped to see us when he hailed him, and more than happy to send us a pin to the painting market. Problem solved.

Well fed and cheerful, we struck off to the market. It was everything we had envisioned, and we spent a long time poring over the art. Qutaiba turned up his nose at the quality, but that was neither here nor there.

From there we toured the city by car, strolled in Liberty square, visited another Mosque that was completely different and hunted for fish. The mosque was different because it has very few Iraqi visitors, but rather draws Muslims from all over the world. There was every description of dress in both men and women, and I even saw a couple old men with their hair dyed carrot orange. It looked like hemp dye or something. Very strange.

Our flight out tonight leaves at the unreasonable hour of 2am, so Qutaiba kindly offered we could hang out at his flat to rest, freshen up and eat supper. The whole time we’ve been here we’ve been thinking about eating the very traditional Iraqi dish called Masgouf. That’s carp that they fish from the marshes down by Basrah. I know, sounds terrible, but it’s a huge deal here and hasn’t killed anyone that we know of. Qutaiba and Heath went to to “book” a fish. That involves choosing one out of a tank, the guy hurled it on the floor to die and then built a fire to cook it on. It takes about 1.5 hours to cook. Meanwhile we bought some fruit and went to the flat to re-re-re-re-repack our bags and I took a shower. Well, a dribble would be better said. It was just under a tap that was 18” above the ground. The lights also didn’t work in the bathroom, but I had my phone flashlight, so big whoop. Also the door hung open an inch or so, but the squeegee propped against it took care of that. Qutaiba only uses 3 rooms of this big flat. The kitchen, which has a wobbly sink stand, a small table that holds all the dishes, and a little two burner stove. It looks and feels exactly like a play house. I described the bathroom, and then there is the living/dining/bedroom/closet where we hung out. It has a large red rug in the middle, four mattresses lining 2 walls and some pillows and blankets.

The old guys went to get the fish when it was done, and I cut up the fruit and subsequently flooded the kitchen. The drain pipe was rusted through. That explained the dishsoap in the bathroom. They returned bearing a large tray of fish, a large tray of red rice and the inevitable little dishes of pickles and sauces. Qutaiba unrolled what looked like pink trash bag but was really just a plastic cloth to spread on the red rug to keep it clean. We all sat around the cloth and dug in with our hands. You take a blob of fish, add some rice and pop it in your mouth. If you’re American you will rain half the rice down onto your lap or the mat. It was actually pretty good! If you didn’t know it was carp you’d be quite impressed. Plums and cantaloupe completed the meal and we all sat back satisfied. Qutaiba served us cups of hot sweet chai, and all together it was an excellent ending to our stay. True Iraqi hospitality.

For the record, we never felt even a moment of unease during our time here. Well, I mean as far as Iraq goes. There was that stomach problem…. But seriously. For all the checkpoints, horror stories and whatnot, all we found was an incredibly friendly country that was tickled to see us. Now if we can just survive the red-eye flight and 10hr layover in Turkey, we’ll be home free.