Weds, 29 May 91
I’m sun burnt, tired, sore, and sick of fucking Kurds. Like I told the girls in the letter I wrote them earlier today, we really got dumped on numbers-wise today. We in-processed 3x more Kurds from Camp 3 than they were supposed to send us. I’m about to crash hard; if I can’t finish this letter tonight, you’ll know why.
… (next day) …
Another long, Kurd-hearding day and barely enough time to write at the end of it. Today we moved over 2000 Camp 3 people into Camp 2. We are so busy with the transfer that I hope it doesn’t delay our departure next week (the U.N. isn’t exactly rushing to take over from us, and it seems like every time we do a good job we end up being given more work).
General Powell visited Camp Badger (the one where I do my Kurd-herding) today. Was it on the news?
I learned two new Kurdish phrases today: Ahz midrit bier means “I want a beer” and Ahz gelek hazhta kehm means “I love you very much.”
That April 27 letter gives me a stiffy every time I read it.
- My experience in Zakho was not entirely bad, it’s just that by the end of May my attitude was deteriorating, along with most everyone else’s. I did have some good times with the Kurds. While I was working at Captain Len Beekman’s food distribution site in Camp 2, a couple of Kurdish workers made us lunch. They made unleavened flour cakes, into which we rolled rice, meat and veggies — a Kurdish burrito! For people without much food, it was incredibly generous and a damn good feed.If I had to do it the feast all over again I would, but did I pay for it the next few days … I got Saddam’s Revenge so bad that I couldn’t work for fear of straying too far from the latrine.
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