Outside the Wire

Inside the MRAP (Mine Resistant Ambush Proof) vehicle, I sit with my wide eyes peering outside the small window at my right. So far only concrete walls whiz by. "This is my first time leaving the wire," I tell the captain sitting across from me. "Really? Do you want me to take your picture?" he asks as I ungracefully untangle my camera from around my neck and hand it to him. I try not to smile, I am a serious journalist in my battle rattle (armor vest and helmet) I don't want to look like a tourist, but my face has a certain friendly, enthusiasm from just about anything, I can't seem to erase. So he snaps my picture with my long ponytail draped over my shoulder and a toned-down grin similar to a school girl on her first field trip. Oh well, I am me.
Soon the concrete walls are gone and the rubble of fallen buildings appear. We enter the city of decrepit shops, cars slowly rolling out of the convoy's way, boys on rusty bicycles and girls in black from head to toe. The people still stop and stare, though the convoy comes through here often.
At our destination the soldiers and I exit the convoy. The ceiling is low and I hit my head hard on the way out. Luckily I have several inches of armor protecting my head, but unfortunately it doesn't protect me from looking stupid. The soldiers don't seem to mind or maybe they just don't notice.
Out in the sun and on the ground soldiers greet Iraqis with traditional greetings and a kiss on one cheek. We walk past the Iraqi police station and into a building where a council meeting is in session. We sit on the sidelines, a translator explains the issues discussed, like paving roads.
Throughout the next several hours I meet several other Iraqi civilians who share their stories with me. The story is the same, they have greatly suffered, they are hopeful and they want a better future.
At noon we stop by a chai tea stand. The hot, sugary tea comes in a tall shot class on a saucer. The soldiers' translators have bought gyros. The pita bread is warm and delicious, inside there are crisp falafels, fresh cucumbers and tomatoes. It is the best food I've eaten in three months.
Back on the military base I head back to the Medevac unit's living quarters. They are jealous I made it out and into the real world of Iraq. They only get to see the country from hundreds of miles in the air. It's hard to stay behind walls, seeing the same faces day after day, locked in, with the same stark landscape all around.