So I left you hanging. I promised several years ago to wrap up my experience in Iraq and close out this blog with some kind of deep analysis of what it all meant, but a couple things happened.
1. I got really tired of talking about Iraq.
2. I realized in retrospect that what I did there might not have meant anything at all, which is scary.
I don't think many of the bad guys I tried to investigate and prosecute are still in jail. I don't think the Iraqi police I tried to train are better at being the type of police we thought they should be. I can't tell you I'm hugely optimistic about Iraq's future. I'm not as worried as the mainstream media seems to be; I think nationalism will continue to grow as a positive secular motivator there, but I'm confident it's not going to be a vacation spot in my lifetime. All that would have made for a pretty depressing finale, so I just let it go.
HOWEVER.
An event of perfect and momentous significance occurred last week, and I can't help but interpret it as a clear sign from something bigger than me that this is all happening as it should, and it was the opportunity I needed to put this thing to bed. I spent the better part of 2009 hot, sweaty, dirty, and ultimately unsatisfied with my utter inability to complete my most basic deployed task. I truly believed that the opportunity to do so had passed, and I'd come to terms with it and moved on with my life. While working in my garage last week preparing to leave the job I left Iraq for, I found something that brought it all back. Believe it or not, finding this thing in a box sitting inches from a patch of carpet on which I regularly work out in my underwear made me smile for like an hour. I like to think it found me. I just wish it would have made itself known before it starved. I would have fed it something better than sandpaper.
FEAST.
Yeah. Camel spider in my garage. In California. Life is insane.
Anyway, thanks for playing along - I appreciated all your comments and it meant a lot while I was there to know that you were interested. I'll be going to Afghanistan this fall. My job will be very different, and I probably won't be doing this, but you never know what might pop up.
Mike
1. I got really tired of talking about Iraq.
2. I realized in retrospect that what I did there might not have meant anything at all, which is scary.
I don't think many of the bad guys I tried to investigate and prosecute are still in jail. I don't think the Iraqi police I tried to train are better at being the type of police we thought they should be. I can't tell you I'm hugely optimistic about Iraq's future. I'm not as worried as the mainstream media seems to be; I think nationalism will continue to grow as a positive secular motivator there, but I'm confident it's not going to be a vacation spot in my lifetime. All that would have made for a pretty depressing finale, so I just let it go.
HOWEVER.
An event of perfect and momentous significance occurred last week, and I can't help but interpret it as a clear sign from something bigger than me that this is all happening as it should, and it was the opportunity I needed to put this thing to bed. I spent the better part of 2009 hot, sweaty, dirty, and ultimately unsatisfied with my utter inability to complete my most basic deployed task. I truly believed that the opportunity to do so had passed, and I'd come to terms with it and moved on with my life. While working in my garage last week preparing to leave the job I left Iraq for, I found something that brought it all back. Believe it or not, finding this thing in a box sitting inches from a patch of carpet on which I regularly work out in my underwear made me smile for like an hour. I like to think it found me. I just wish it would have made itself known before it starved. I would have fed it something better than sandpaper.
FEAST.
Yeah. Camel spider in my garage. In California. Life is insane.
Anyway, thanks for playing along - I appreciated all your comments and it meant a lot while I was there to know that you were interested. I'll be going to Afghanistan this fall. My job will be very different, and I probably won't be doing this, but you never know what might pop up.
Mike
