Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Diwo

Our team has been in Diwaniyah Province for the last two weeks. We are staying at FOB Echo, a relatively small and pleasant base located just on the edge of the eponymous provincial capital. Compared to the large and sprawling bases that have been our homes for the last couple of months, FOB Echo has been a joy. There are eucalyptus trees all around and the birds that call them home. Our hooches, the DFAC, and our office space are within a short walk of each other. The weather has been very pleasant, crisp in the morning but a comfortable mid-70s during mid-day.

The pattern of our provincial assessments has been to cover each province in one month. Last month we covered three provinces and this month we are covering Diwaniyah in about three weeks. As a consequence, we’ve been pushing hard to go out every day and we’ve been largely successful, aided by the capable leadership of Lieutenant Garcia, who commands our personal security detail. Garcia graduated from Texas A&M in 2006 and so has taken a personal interest in helping us out. He’s been great.

Diwaniyah is steeped in the history of civilization. This is the location of Nippur, an ancient Sumerian city over 4,000 years old. The land also shows signs of a long history of use. There are many places where the soil is now too salty to grow crops. Some farmers have scraped the top layer of soil into long mounds on the sides of fields as one way to address the problem, although it usually makes a bad situation worse in the long run. Nonetheless, a lot of wheat and barley are grown here. The western part of the province is a rich rice-growing area, contiguous with the rice-growing area in Najaf that we visited back in July. The rice is now ripe and being harvested. There are also fish ponds here, although not nearly as many as in Babylon.

Diwaniyah city is rather attractive and, although this is a relative description, much cleaner city than many others we’ve visited in southern Iraq. The city has many graceful blue-tipped minarets. The downtown is lively with rotisserie chickens and gyros for sale on the sidewalk, barbershops, tea houses and snack shops, fruit and vegetable stands, and other stalls for hardware and car parts. We convinced LT Garcia to take us into the main market area to interview some fruit and vegetable wholesalers, although only if we went in there with a smaller group. I was fortunate to have been chosen to go into the market. We went in a tight security bubble but I never felt threatened. Of course, I don’t know anything about security, so what do I know of the real threat? Of course, our little entourage attracted quite a crowd, mostly of kids who hang around the market.

The kids can be pesky and aggressive but mostly they are just curious about us and want to see what the American soldiers are doing. When driving through the streets of the city, we are viewed with a mixture of suspicion and mild anxiety (what one soldier described to me as “the stink-eye”), although as soon as they see my hand waving from the back seat of a Humvee, they break into a broad grin and return the wave. The transformation is startling but nearly universal. In the countryside, without exception, the kids come running towards our convoy, waving exuberantly. With school now in session, invariably we encounter kids on their way home from school—smiling, laughing, waving, and jumping up and down.

Early on here we were made aware of the backdrop of our work in Diwo. Apparently, Americans have been here only recently. Last year, the province was under the nominal control of Polish forces. Together with an American general, a deal was struck to provide farmers with fertilizer and tractors. The farmers—mostly sheikhs perceived to be helpful to American forces—received the fertilizer but not the tractors. The governor, in learning about the giveaway, became angry and seized the tractors. The governor is a Badrist. The Badr Brigade was formed during the Iran-Iraq War, consisting of Shiites who fought on the side of Iran in that war. After the fall of Saddam, the governor returned to Iraq after a long exile in Iran. He’s been somewhat of a thorn in the side of the coalition forces and the central government.

Shortly after our arrival here we received a visit from some Special Forces soldiers based here at FOB Echo. They gave us a list of sheikhs that we might consider visiting. Not having scheduled anything to that point, we started working down the list. Each one told us the same story about the tractors and appealed to us to intervene on their behalf. Recognizing that this was a political hot potato, we’ve opted to remain neutral about it. On the one hand we recognize the legitimacy of the governor’s position, that he is the leader of this province and he would have to inherit responsibility (given the government’s traditional role and heavy hand in supporting agriculture) for supporting fuel and maintenance on the tractors. On the other hand, we also recognize that farmers are in desperate need for machinery to work the land to plant more wheat so that people can eat. It seems that the governor is using the withholding of tractors (and allocations of water) as ammunition against people who are not in his favor or who have been working with coalition forces.

This has been the “elephant in the room” with all our work here. Nonetheless, we’ve had a great stay here in Diwo. After nearly six months of doing this, as you might imagine, we are getting pretty good at getting to the core issues quickly. This has allowed us to drill deeper in our assessments and make more meaningful and specific recommendations. Although there are huge needs for big-ticket items like renovation of the irrigation and drainage system, we have focused on building human capacity for problem-solving and technical knowledge. In the long-run, I think this is where Team Borlaug can really make a difference once projects begin to be implemented.

Sunday, October 26, 2008

Lightning! Thunder! RAIN!!!

Since arriving here in mid-June it’s been day after day of cloudless blue sky and a blazing sun. There have been exceptions, including dust storms of varying severity, but the weather has been unrelentingly predictable. For the past few days the wind has been blowing from the east and the humidity has been elevated. The salts in the dry soil have attracted this moisture, making the soil wet and sticky where salt concentrations are high, which is to say most places around here.

Then, yesterday afternoon clouds appeared. These weren’t the wispy clouds that were occasionally apparent around sunrise but then quickly burned off in the heat of the day. These were bona fide clouds, big round packets of roiling moisture. The sky grew dark around mid-afternoon. Then, what was that? No, it wasn’t an outgoing artillery round, it was thunder! A bright flash of lightning, then another. The rain was coming! Sure enough, big fat drops began to fall, slowly at first. I held my breath. Soon the sky opened up and a nice steady rain fell for almost 45 minutes. Beautiful sweet rain.

We were thinking of the Bedouins camped in their tents in the desert on the outskirts of the base, wondering how they were celebrating the arrival of the rain, wondering too if their rough tents were leaking. We know that farmers everywhere that rain was falling were celebrating its arrival. The drought here has been multi-year and severe, perhaps felt most acutely by shepherds and herders, whose flocks and herds have been reduced to less than half of pre-drought levels. With the rain, I’m expecting to see wheat and barley sprouting in the fields shortly.

The rain has turned the base into a muddy mess. Drifts of dust collected on the roadsides and elsewhere have turned to slush. There are puddles! The mud is slippery and sticks to your shoes. The floor of the DFAC is strewn with tiny clods escaped from the lugs of boot soles and the Bengali workers are busy chasing them around with brooms, dustpans, and mops.

Why all the excitement and fuss over this rain? After all, it was just a shower. The point is that it has been a long time since rain has fallen here and ANY rain is a big deal. Also, working in agriculture, we know how important water is to the success of farming here (indeed, anywhere). The rain is a cause for celebration and for hoping that there’s more on the way.

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Another Fallen Soldier

Our brief 10-day stay in Amarah is now finished and we have returned to COB Adder at Tallil Air Base near Nasariyah. I probably need a little more time to fully digest everything that occurred while working in Amarah but this represents an initial telling and interpretation of some of what happened while there. In the last post I set the scene of the small and new base where we stayed and a brief recent history of wartime events in the province.

Our team was really breaking new ground in terms of US involvement in provincial development. Unlike other provinces where we have worked, there had been very little pre-planning or knowledge of places to go and people to meet. Over time we have developed a template for this and it turned out to serve us well in Maysan.

Last Saturday we looked forward with anticipation to visits to the pump stations that served two of the three largest irrigation districts in the province. We got off to a rough start with some friction between the lieutenant who was in charge of our security detail and the major on the Civil Affairs team who was serving as a liaison between our team and the military. Once we got that worked out, we had some confusion around the link-up with some local leaders who were going to show us exactly where to go and then meet with us to discuss problems. Then, while on site, more and more people kept crowding into the main room of the pump station, making our Army security detail very nervous. At this point we were also far enough away that we were no longer in radio contact with the base so that if anything went wrong there was no way to call for help.

Once we finished our meetings at the pump stations, we made our way back toward base. When we finally came within radio contact, we learned that another soldier from the battalion, the second in about ten days, had been killed in an IED attack on the base commander’s convoy on a road heading south from Amarah, very near the same spot where the first soldier had been killed last week. Like the first soldier, this one was a gunner killed by an EFP directed upwards. Immediately, I could sense a change in the soldiers riding in my Humvee, their thoughts turned inward and a near complete lack of the normal radio chatter and good-natured ribbing.

When we arrived at the base I thanked the soldiers that took care of us as I usually do and told the lieutenant who led our security detail how sorry I was that he lost another comrade. He appreciated the gesture but I could tell that he was struggling to maintain his composure. I too got caught up in the moment, feeling a lump in my throat. A mental numbness washed over me.

We returned to our tent to try and make sense of the day’s events. The major came in and unleashed a brief and emotional tirade, directed largely at our BBA, who had been serving us well and diligently. I realized right away that the major’s anger and frustration was not really aimed at the BBA, that he was only a convenient target, and that the major was responding to a perfect storm of the events of the day, that it represented a response to cumulative causes. We also came in for criticism about circumventing the major’s authority in dealing directly with the lieutenant leading our security detail.

After the major left our tent, we sat there looking at each other in disbelief, trying to make sense of everything. A few guys opened MREs but I had completely lost my appetite. Then, we heard shouting from a nearby tent, the one housing the Iraqi interpreters living on the base. Apparently, a soldier came to the tent brandishing his weapon, threatening to kill one of the interpreters, thinking that one of them had tipped off whoever had triggered the IED. Apparently the soldier had really become unhinged. When I talked with the interpreters later they told me how much they liked the soldier who had been killed, how he used to come by and visit with them and learn a little Arabic, and how they too grieve for the loss of his life. Several interpreters were genuinely afraid for their lives and were going to request transfers to other bases.

Walking around the base that afternoon the soldiers were somber. The sense of anger and frustration was palpable. The desire for vengeance was very strong, nerves were raw, and tensions high. I spent the afternoon in quiet introspection, thinking about the young man and how his family was going to respond to the news of his death. Until the Army notified his next-of-kin, the base commander imposed a communications blackout, an order that remained in effect for over two days, essentially cutting us off from the outside world.

On Saturday night (actually Sunday morning) around 2 AM, the major came running into our tent to assure us that everything was fine, that we had taken some incoming fire but it had landed outside the perimeter of the base. Every night while at the base we had been hearing outgoing mortar fire, sent at random intervals to deter attacks. I found it impossible to distinguish between outgoing and incoming fire so I had assumed that it was all outgoing and had slept through the “attack.” Apparently the incoming fire was part of an elaborate plan to draw out the QRF (quick reaction force) and then spring an ambush. Fortunately it did not succeed.

It seemed to me that the growl of fighter jets, a constant nighttime feature during my stay at FOB GarryOwen, was more intense that night. In the morning we saw two Apache helicopters circling slowly overhead, looking for a target.

All movements off the base were cancelled on Sunday so we had no choice but to stay put. The major stayed away from us and for the most part we kept to our tent. I could really see the look of frustration on the faces of the soldiers. They are trained to kill and they wanted vengeance on the enemy that had taken one of their brothers, but they know that this was not an enemy that can be fought conventionally. It’s this knowledge that they find so frustrating.

For my part, I was surprised at the intensity of my own reaction. Upon reflection I realized how close I’d become to these soldiers, especially the ones who’ve been guarding our lives and enabling us to do our work. They are often in the background, but I always know they are there and will act professionally to any situation; I never take them for granted. Although we have followed very different paths, we share a common purpose here, each doing different parts of the same mission, and we need each other (although they need us less than we need them). I believe this, at least in part, explains the depth of my feelings for the loss of these two young men within the last ten days.

Tuesday, October 7, 2008

Amarah

I'm writing this from FOB GarryOwen, a small camp in Maysan province near the main city of Amarah. Conditions here are very basic, in contrast to the large bases that have been our home in the past month. I'm staying in a 20-man tent (but it has a/c), sleeping on a camp cot, and showering in another tent that has water pumped from a bladder laying on the ground. The chow-hall (no DFAC) provides hot breakfast and dinner; lunch is MREs. The chow-hall is closed on Sundays, so it's MREs all day. Computer access is difficult, especially when there are a lot of soldiers on-line.
The camp started in June of this year so things remain in a state of flux. June is when the American presence began in this province. Literally this place has been passed by for much of the war. In part this was due to the presence of the British, who controlled the battle space, had some bitter battles with losses on both sides, and then pulled back to Basra. Earlier this spring, the Prime Minister launched an offensive to rid Basra of militias and criminal gangs. Many of them came to Amarah. A subsequent offensive by the Iraqi Army drove these militias out of Amarah. The Americans arrived on the heals of this offensive and are just now establishing a presence here.
This is the context for our work. Very little is known and very few contacts have been made. We are literally blazing the trail with the PRT and Civil Affairs Team. We've had a great couple of days of meetings, mostly to determine what we want to see and more importantly who we want to visit. As elsewhere in Iraq, there are great people here doing great work under difficult circumstances.
In some respects Maysan reminds me of Louisiana. First, this is where the Tigris River breaks apart into at least five branches, most spilling out into huge marshes, home of the Marsh Arabs, who have a culture that is as distinct as the Cajuns. The city of Amarah is located where three of these branches originate and, being a river city, reminds me of New Orleans. Obviously these are superficial similarities. However, we've been told that the Maysani's are considered the "red-headed stepchildren" of Iraq, having been ignored by the central government for decades. Bordering Iran, the people of this province suffered mightily during the Iran-Iraq war. Saddam also created a huge canal/dam to divert water around some big marshes in the south of the province, choking off the water supply, as a way to subjugate the Shia's there. The Maysanis were also part of the Shia uprising following the first Gulf War, which was brutally suppressed by Saddam. Despite all this, there is tremendous hope here (as we have seen elsewhere in Iraq) and one needs only to see the tremendous construction boom of small houses. Factories with tall smokestacks belching black smoke are churning our bright yellow bricks everywhere in southern Iraq.
Back to FOB GarryOwen. I am here with two others from Team Borlaug, a subset of our full team, which remains at FOB Adder at Tallil Air Base, near Nasariyah, and is now working in Muthanna province. We are here with about 200 other soldiers. The other day we took part in a memorial service for a 22-year old specialist who was killed by an EFP during a route clearance mission on the road between Amarah and the other major town in the province. We all gathered by the MWR and the young man was remembered by his commanders and fellow soldiers. I could see more than one soldier sniffling and wiping away tears. He received a 21-gun salute and "Taps" on a bugle. It was a very emotional scene.
It reminds me, as if I really needed reminding, that I'm still in a war zone. Given the newness of this camp and recent events, I have to admit to feeling a bit more anxiety about my presence here. It's not enough to deter me from our activities. We were told that the camp has been rocketed twice since June and were instructed on what to do if the rockets start falling while sleeping. ("Get down and suck plywood.") We hear outgoing fire, mostly mortars, every night to deter these attacks. Despite all this, I feel safe with the soldiers in our security detail, who continue to do a magnificent job that enables us to do our assessments and develop ideas for projects to improve Iraqi agriculture. My senses and level of awareness of my surroundings has become sharper and more finely attuned. It doesn't hurt that daytime temperatures have moderated and the weather has turned fine.

Saturday, September 27, 2008

The Al Kut Livestock Market

Over the last several weeks as we've passed through the outskirts of Al Kut on our way to scheduled stops out in the province we noticed a bustle of activity that piqued our interest. We found out that it was the Al Kut livestock market, where sheep and cows are traded. After a bit of reluctance on the part of the Army based on security concerns, we were told we could go.

First, it is necessary to understand how important sheep and other livestock are to Iraqi farmers. One of my colleagues describes them as "biological bank accounts." Simply put, in the absence of a properly functioning banking system, it is a way for people to accumulate equity. This equity can be easily liquidated to provide cash to maintain daily living or for critical expenses that may emerge suddenly. The "interest" from this livestock -- the milk, lambs, and calves -- also provides a source of income.

Second, at least here in Wasit, the extensive irrigation system is not functioning properly and there are large tracts of land (75-80% of the arable land here by some reports) where the salt concentration in the soil is too high to grow crops. As a result, there are vast areas of fallow land that are unproductive and only scrubby vegetation grows. In the absence of crop production, the only alternative for these farmers is to graze livestock. With the ongoing drought, even once productive farmland has become rangeland that has been given over to grazing.

Without a doubt, sheep are most important. Iraqi sheep are widely esteemed in the region and the locally adapted breeds appear robust and hardy (and tasty I might add). Most flocks we have seen are about 100 animals, with some goats and a few cows mixed in. We have also seen water buffalo and even a few herds of camels!

So, back to the livestock market....

The market is located in an area with rough crumbling houses, the hulks of wrecked cars, drifts of wind-blown trash, and puddles of oily-black water. Despite the obvious poverty of the neighborhood, nearly every house had a small satellite dish, sprouting like mushrooms after a spring rain from the mud-brick houses.

Our army escorts were concerned about our safety in the area and we were careful to plan our movements there. First, we approached with our vehicles from a back entrance and parked well away from the center of activity. Then one of our BBA/translators went with a couple of soldiers to engage a few of the people in the market to gauge the situation. Once it was determined that our presence would not be too disruptive we dismounted and stayed close together as a group and move along the market periphery. Of course, the Iraqis were curious about our presence, were not deterred by armed US soldiers and came right up to us to find out what we were looking for.

We attracted quite a crowd, including some rather rambunctious kids who appeared to be living some kind of marginal existence from the crumbs that fell from the table of market transactions. Our security detail formed a tight bubble around us facing outward, with us and those Iraqis curious enough to come inside. It was a rather chaotic scene and we did not stay too long, but we did feel comfortable enough to move around and talk with livestock sellers, buyers, and butchers.

Some of the livestock was not in very good condition, an obvious manifestation of the drought. Several sellers repeated the phrase "Alef maku! Alef maku!" (No feed! No feed!), complaining bitterly about government subsidies that have dried up along with their grazing lands. Another hoarse-voiced man came up to me and asked if I could help him fix his throat. I could only turn up my hands in helplessness.

Just before leaving, as I watched bargaining come to completion and cash exchange hands in one transaction, I felt as though I was being transported back in time, that this was a scene dating back 50, 100, 500, maybe 1,000 years. I could feel the sweep of the long history of this region writ small through the seemingly endless repetition of this market scene. It was a dizzying moment of near vertigo that quickly passed when a soldier tapped me on the shoulder and told me that it was time to go.

Sunday, September 21, 2008

On the Border

Writing this from Camp Shocker, a small U.S. Army base about 5 km from the border with Iran, near a town called Badrah. From here we can look to the east and see some impressive mountains in the haze. That's Iran. This area reminds me a bit of southern California, particularly the Chocolate Mountains area near the Salton Sea.

Yesterday we went up to the "POE," or point-of-entry, a sprawling confusion of fences, T-walls, check points, milling people, and lines of parked trucks. We climbed an observation tower to get an overview. Looking over into Iran there was a fleet of parked trucks, filled with watermelons and canteloupes, that had arrived during the night. Below the tower was a line of empty trucks from Iraq, waiting to enter a neutral zone to receive the loads of Iranian cargo. We met some produce brokers who were walking over to the Iranian trucks to begin bidding, auction style, on the loads of produce. Once a deal is struck, the Iranian trucks move into the neutral zone and the cargo is loaded onto the Iraqi trucks. Depending on the time of year, lots of onions, tomatoes, cucumbers, as well as building materials and all manner of consumer goods are passed across the border.

The POE has three "corridors," one each for cargo, people, and fuel. Iraq allows 2,000 people to cross the POE from Iran every day. Most are religious pilgrims headed for the holy Shiite cities of Karbala and Najaf. It takes about 45-90 minutes to cross the border. Every military-age male is processed by both American and Iraqi authorities. They are photographed, fingerprinted, and given a retinal scan. Waiting for the pilgrims on the Iraqi side is a fleet of large air-conditioned buses and small mini-vans. The flow of fuel across the POE is in one direction only, from Iran to Iraq. Tanker trucks carrying refined fuels (diesel, gasoline, kerosene, and propane) represent a critical lifeline because the refinery capacity in Iraq comes nowhere near meeting demand. The lines at gas stations are really impressive and no doubt try the patience of even the most stout-hearted Iraqi motorist.

Next we visited the mayor of Zurbatia, a small, tidy town, with broad clean streets, a pleasant but quiet place. He told us a story we've heard a lot in this area, that the Iranians have constructed a series of dams that restrict the flow of water into this part of Iraq. Most of the farmers in this area would like to grow crops of wheat and barley, and try to do that the best they can most years, but the main crop here is sheep, which are grazed on sparse range land dotted with clumps of thorny plants. Unlike other parts of this province and many other parts of Iraq with a long history of irrigation, the land here is good and the soil isn't too salty to grow crops. We heard about the need for dam projects, well projects, a big project that brings water here from the Tigris River. One or more of these are needed for farmers here to realize the agricultural potential of this area.

We have visited two small villages since coming here a couple of days ago, and we'll visit another one tomorrow morning. We heard from villagers about how the Iraqi army destroyed one village during the Iran-Iraq war in the 1980s, with most of the surrounding grazing land turned into a battlefield. We heard how Saddam cut down local date-palm orchards to punish local villagers because they were thought to be Iranian sympathizers. The determined villagers returned in 1988 to rebuild their community. Now they struggle to be farmers, facing the effects of an extended drought and with next to no government subsidies or other support. They are so determined and optimistic that they will sell sheep in order to buy seeds when needed if those that are promised by the Ministry of Agriculture arrive too late to plant at the proper time.

Just before leaving the village that we visited early this morning, several farmers produced pieces of paper that indicated that they were being fined for planting vegetables, which had been forbidden by the area water resources director general (DG) because the crop required too much scarce water. The way the story was told and translated, we left with the impression that the farmers had been done a grave and unreasonable injustice. After all, the farmers were just growing vegetables for their own consumption. We promised to take the matter up with local agricultural and water resource officials we had scheduled to meet later in the morning. At the meeting, the water resource DG grew animated and indignant when we raised the subject. First of all, the water resources DG was a woman, wrapped in the traditional abaya, but she was assertive and outspoken, and had the ear of the Badrah mayor and was deferred to by the other assembled ag and water DGs. She claimed that the farmers had been warned prior to being fined and that she was, for the first time in the area, attempting to uphold local regulations about water use. She said that the farmers did not realize that what they were doing was affecting the availability of water for the commercially valuable date palm orchards. As the meeting broke up, she and one of our translator/BBAs really got into it, none of it personal, but this woman is obviously passionate about her work. Because she can see the big picture of all the pressures on water resources in the area, she has to make tough decisions that result in fines and that are unpopular with villagers who are used to using water without regard to other users. This is classic "Tragedy of the Commons" stuff.

So, in the morning we had promised to return to the village for lunch. Although we were tired and hot from a long morning of meetings, we headed back to the village. The village farmers were off tending to business elsewhere, but the village sheikh was there and hosted a fabulous lunch of barbecued and boiled lamb, chunks of lamb liver and fat from the tail of the sheep, bowls of cucumber salad and pickles, fresh loaves of pita bread, laban (yogurt), watermelon, and dates. The sheikh was obviously not keeping fast during Ramadan and in fact spoke openly of his large appetites for food and sex. We told him of our meeting with the water resources DG and admitted that the arguments of his fellow farmers did not have much merit. So, we brought the complaint full circle. It would have been nice to talk with the farmers that originally brought this up. It is clear that we did not get the full story from them when we spoke about it this morning.

Another thing that keeps coming up is the expectations that people have of us. Whether farmers at the village level, agriculture and water resource leaders, members of provincial councils, and even governors we have met, all have high expectations of us. We try our best to listen to their concerns and hopefully through the reports we write, the recommendations we make, and some of the projects we start, we will be able to make some small difference in the lives of the people here. At the very least, we know that we have fostered goodwill and created a positive impression. The people we have met are all positive about our engagment with them.

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Men Talk, Women Work

Today we visited a small rural village of about 2,000 people about 10 km from Al Kut. The 30 families that live there farm around 400 acres of land, mostly wheat, barley, corn, and vegetables (eggplant, cucumber, watermelon). We were greeted by the village leaders and taken to a large carpeted meeting room where we sat cross-legged and talked with the village sheiks and others about agriculture and their needs. The original settlers of this land came from Maysan Province to the south in the 1960s. Maysan, also known as Amarah, is known as the poorest province in Iraq. (It is also where the team will go next month.) Many people from Amarah moved to the northeast corner of Baghdad, the sprawling slum of Sadr City. The people from this village, and apparently others from Amarah, have been passed by even when times were good. The village was a rough place, although they have electricity when it is supplied (abour 4-6 hours daily). The lack of electricity also limits the capacity to pump water from the nearby Tigris River. The lack of diesel fuel (we have seen LONG lines at gas stations) means that auxiliary diesel-powered water pumps are not operating as well.

Anway, I digress a little bit. The main point of this entry, as suggested in the title, is the obvious sexual division of labor. Of course, this is not unique to Iraq. I have just taken notice of it recently. We meet with men, mostly older but also some younger men and boys, and never women. When we meet, we talk, we take notes, we nod our head in understanding. But in the background, out working in the fields, invariably we see women and young girls working, doing the actual farming. We see them transplanting vegetable seedlings, weeding fields, tending sheep, cutting and carrying bulging sacks of alfalfa as fodder for cows and sheep, gathering fallen dates, building cookstoves, and making dung patties. Of course, women are also doing domestic work such as hauling water, cleaning house, doing laundry, and taking care of children. Sadly their voice is not heard in our conversations but we know that they are there. We have taken note of extension programs directed toward women (mostly "sewing" programs) and especially those directed toward war widows. It's really a shame that we can't talk with them. Men are very protective of their women and do not allow us to talk with them. Having said that, we do encounter women in professional roles and we have engaged them when and where the opportunity presents itself. We just have to keep in mind that the people in Iraq would not be able to feed themselves if it were not for women's work, not just men's talk.

Monday, September 15, 2008

Good Days and Bad Days

Today we are in the grip of yet another dust storm. It's getting to be as bad as the one back in early July when I was staying at FOB Kalsu. Visibility is down to less than a half mile, the air is still and heavy, and the sun is completely obscured. The light is a strange orange color. Once outside for awhile, your eyes adjust to make the light seem "normal," but when you come inside, the transition is jarring. It's been getting worse over the last couple of days and in fact caused us to have to cancel an air movement to a town in the northwest corner of the province. I was looking forward to going there because I had seen some large and well-developed fish pond complexes during our helicopter overflight tour. Apparently the area near the big pond complexes is a "no go" zone for us anyway, but there are other smaller farms that we would have been able to visit. Too bad.

We've had mostly good days since coming to Wasit. One of the better days started with a visit to one of three new agricultural extension centers here (altogether, 17 are planned). We arrived early in the morning and found a group of about 25-30 men gathered to greet us. They were farmers, extension agents, and leaders of local agricultural unions. They had arranged plastic chairs in an open rectangle on a lawn shaded by date palms next to the center. Of course, they had us sit at the head and the Iraqis arrayed themselves along the side. The morning was very pleasant, maybe the coolest for that time of day since arriving here. Everyone introduced themselves, with our team leader explaining our mission in Iraq and describing a little bit about Norman Borlaug. Then, much to my surprise, the assembled Iraqis got down to business, talking about upcoming programs to improve fertility and birth rates in the highly regarded local sheep. We were only observers at this point, watching how the extension scientists explained their program to the farmers and agricultural unions. Clearly this is a great model for introducing new ideas and technologies to farmers and it was great to see the Iraqi people working out ways to help each other. The agricultural union leadership is the critical link because these farmers tend to be innovators and can encourage the farmers in their union to adopt improved practices by their own example. The only missing link we see is the participation of the research community, for which there is none in Wasit. It is something we are going to try and elevate to the provincial leadership in our final report.

After leaving the extension center we visited two farms that represent two contrasting forms of agriculture in the country. The first was an extended family farm with diverse crops. There were eight families farming about 120 acres. They had wheat, rice, vegetables, a date palm orchard, fish ponds, sheep, cattle, and turkeys. This farm supported the livlihood of about 160 people. The other farm was about 1800 acres of wheat, barley, and corn that was owned by an Iraqi parlimentarian and managed by his son-in-law. The manager wore western-style dress (unlike the "man-dress" dishdashas worn by the other farmers), was educated in an agricultural high school, and was computer literate. Two contrasting farming operations, both functional models. Good day.

We've had our bad days too. The other day we were scheduled to meet with a local sheikh who has curried favor with the coalition by ridding his area of insurgents. We were also scheduled to meet with a local religious leader who is also seen as a powerful local figure, but one who is apolitical. Our convoy had just left the FOB when we lurched to a halt. A sharp-eyed gunner had spotted wires protruding from a hole on the roadside from which an IED had been previously removed. We had to idle on the road for about an hour before some specialized vehicles arrived to make a way for us to pass around safely. Later, we found out that it was only the wires, no bomb. One of the lieutenants told me that the insurgents sometimes like to build the bomb in stages over several nights. It is thought that these are the same guys who shot four rockets into our base about a week ago, two brothers who are being actively pursued by the Iraqi army and police.

This incident put us off schedule but we kept our appointment with the sheikh anyway, meeting him at a water pump station on the Tigris River. He proceeded to tell us how valuable he was to the improvement of security in the area and how he thought that we should help him by providing him with pumps and motors. Our original schedule had us moving from the pump station back along water supply canals to view his fields of wheat, barley, and vegetables. Instead, we ended up driving a long, long way--almost to Babil Province--past fields and fields of fallow, desolate farmland. We pulled up next to a decrepit pump station on a dry water supply canal. He wanted to show us this place to ask that we provide him with a new diesel engine and water pump so that he could once again irrigate the surrounding fields. The pump station had one mostly disassembled and rusty diesel engine that was partially buried in the ground. Another one was on it's skid, but also partially disassembled and nonfunctional. The pump itself also appeared not to work. It was a kind of ecological succession of pump motors! It was rather off-putting to hear this sheikh continually press the point of trying to get something out of us. We try to tell people that our main mission is assessment, although we have been developing projects to improve the capacity of Iraqi agriculture, especially in developing the necessary human capacity to increase productivity. He really thought he was owed something from us. This may be a legacy of Saddam and how the command economy built a mindset and an expectation that things would flow from the center of power outwards. It will take a generational shift to get past this, although we do see signs of exceptional individuals seizing the opportunities presented by the fall of Saddam to take the initiative and move their personal situation and their country forward. While at this remote spot, the religious leader we were scheduled to meet arrived, along with a member of the Wasit provincial council, wearing a suit and tie in the broiling sun. He said one thing that I thought was very insightful. He said that "We need to focus agricultural development at the village level. After the village level, we should work at the sub-district and then district leve." In other words, a bottom-up, farmer-first approach. In the context of a history of the top-down systems of patronage, this was a striking comment, bordering on revolutionary in my view. He also told me that he had received formal training from the U.S. in mediation and conflict resolution and seemed to take pride in this qualification. I told him as we left that I admired his courage.

As I finish writing this I now realize that what started out as a bad day actually turned out to be quite a good one after all.

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

A Glimpse of Fall

The other day, for the first time since coming to Iraq in mid-June, I saw a few wimpy clouds right around daybreak, but they quickly burned off once the sun rose. However, the humidity stayed up and as a result it's been feeling a lot more like a hotter south Louisiana in the summer than the dry desert climate we've experienced up to now. On one of our movements the other day, the soil was wet and sticky, but it had not rained. It was explained that the salt in the soil (salinization is a very serious problem in agriculture here) attracts the moisture from the atmosphere when the air is humid, wetting the soil. Yesterday, around lunchtime, I heard the rumble of thunder and saw lightning strikes over near the airfield. A few drops started to fall, creating small impact craters in the powdered dust. One of my teamates called it "a two-inch rain" because there was two inches between each drop. Last night the wind shifted direction and began to blow strongly from the southeast, whipping the dust into drifts. The wind has now begun to change from the summertime shamal wind, blowing steady out of the northwest, to the autumnal sharqi, from the south and southeast.
Of course, other changes indicate the coming fall, most notably the ripening of dates. There are now huge clusters of blonde and brown sweetness hanging from the date palms. The several I had yesterday were like caramel or butterscotch. Delicious! Farmers are also busy planting wheat in anticipation of winter rains.
We had a really good movement today, visiting a lovely farm in a small rural village. The highlight for me was a beautiful orchard with date palms in the overstory, a midstory with various citrus, including the local sweet lemon, apricots, pomegranates, figs, apples, and pears, and an understory with licorice and grass that is cut and hauled out for sheep. It sure felt like the Garden of Eden.
We've been on a very hectic schedule, with barely enough time to post to this blog, answer emails or type up field notes. This morning, for example, I got up a 4:30 am, met our convoy at 5:15, visited our first site at 7:00 and were back at the FOB for lunch just before the DFAC closed at 2:00 pm. By 9:00 pm I'm wrung out from all the heat and sweating and am ready for bed. And we'll do it all over again tomorrow. We are doing this for a couple of reasons. First, the intense heat is a strain on the team and the army guys who guard us, so we want to move and be out in the coolest part of the day. Second, it is Ramadan and many of the Iraqis we are meeting are fasting during the day, so we want to meet with them in the morning when their energy level is higher. During our helicopter tour earlier in the week, we were accompanied by the DGs for agriculture and for water in the province and they did not drink a thing the entire flight. I was completely drained, even after drinking plenty of water and Gatorade. I have to believe that they were really hurting when it was over, even though they were clearly exhilirated by the opportunity to see their province from the air and to accompany our team.
The work goes on, fall is coming!

Sunday, September 7, 2008

Wasit

It's taken about a week after returning to Iraq before I've had a chance to return to posting, in part because access to the internet at my new location is difficult. I'm writing from a computer terminal in the MWR (morale welfare and recreation) facility at FOB Delta in Wasit Province. The computer commons is a popular place, especially with the many Ugandans here working for Triple Canopy, the company that provides security for the base, and so I'm rubbing elbows with them now as I write this. FOB Delta is located near the town of Al Kut (known to soldiers as "Al-Kutraz"), a place where the Tigris is split into two rivers. The base is a sprawling place that used to be one of Saddam's former airbases, now home to Coalition Forces. With the exception of Camp Victory near Baghdad, I don't think I've seen so many of the coalition partners represented here. Until recently, the base had a very large contingent from Georgia, although now there are only a few remaining because most have been called back to fight their own war. The Georgians have quite an unsavory reputation here, known for thievery, drunkeness, and all manner of disorderly and unbecoming conduct for a professional military. Next in number are probably the Salvadorans. They have their own compound and even have their own PRT. There is a Cuscatlan Blvd on the base. There are also contingents from Kazakhstan, the Ukraine, and Poland, Romania, and recently a contingent of Mongolian soldiers have arrived.
Our team has hit the ground running, thanks in part to Patrick Moore, a USDA employee who works for the local PRT. His team includes two BBAs, "Jimmy" and Kamil, who have been invaluable to getting our team oriented. We have visited some innovative farmers, including an interesting poultry hatchery, and have made our courtesy calls on the Provincial Governor, the Provincial DG for Agriculture, and the Provincial Council. Yesterday we spent most of the day in the air, taking a two-part helicopter tour of the entire province. We saw most of the main agricultural production areas. The irrigation system is very impressive but in many places is in obvious disrepair. There are vast tracts of land that were once supplied with irrigation water that have reverted to desert. There are also large tracts of land with the telltale white crust of land salinization, another serious problem. We also flew up to an area very near the border with Iran, seeing the port-of-entry with lots of trucks coming into Iraq from Iran. To get there we flew over a part of the province that was nothing but miles and miles of nothing but miles and miles, in the words of one of my teamates. It's amazing how much of the agriculture here is confined to a fairly narrow band next to the rivers, but it's also amazing the degree to which an attempt has been made to push the water back from the rivers as far as possible to support agriculture. I also saw some fish ponds yesterday, notably a large facility near the town of Al Sowhera that I hope to visit sometime this month. Near that fish farm we saw a large complex of bombed out buildings that used to be a training academy for Saddam's security services. Even in a bombed out condition, it's an impressive facility, with an Olympic swimming pool, running track, and many other stout multi-story buildings, now destroyed.
I was really drained after the helicopter tour. The heat has been really intense: the other day it was 122 and it's been routinely above 115 every day. I thought when I returned that I would be used to the heat and I thought at first that the heat was not quite as intense and the body armor not quite as heavy, but that was an obvious misperception.
OK....have to go now...they only give us a half-hour on the computer.

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Red Zone, Green Zone

It’s been a little while since I’ve updated, so I’ll have to give an overview here and perhaps come back with some details later. The first headline is "Euphrates Fish Farm, finally!" After a few false starts, I finally managed to get over to the Euphrates Fish Farm, the largest in Iraq. The place was built in 1983; a Russian plan drawing framed on the main office wall indicates Russian involvement in design and construction. I’ve been told that the farm was "owned" by Ouday Hussein, one of Saddam’s notoriously brutal sons. The farm was privatized in 1989 and has been managed since then by Mr. Khudair, who clearly relishes all the attention from the military and the aid community. Euphrates Fish Farm has been contracted to produce six million carp fingerlings for distribution to farmers, an operation that has been underway for at least a month. Fingerlings were being loaded out on transport trucks for distribution to fish farmers in Babil during my visit to the farm. Mr. Khudair is a master of the dog & pony show. He had a room in the hatchery with glass jars with different size carp (small to large in series) and bowls with various dry ingredients used to manufacture fish feed. The hatchery itself was not operational but consisted of upwelling incubators with flow-through water and larger incubators for newly hatched larvae. The hatchery appeared fully functional although it had the feel of 1970s era technology. We also traveled out to view the large (nearly 100-acre) ponds. These ponds are about 1 km long by about 0.5 km wide and, as managed, have a capacity of about 18 tons of fish. They are also beginning to evaluate paddlewheel aeration, an innovation introduced by Duane Stone, to manage dissolved oxygen, although the low stocking densities and feeding rates mean that water quality problems are not common. I had a nice visit but could have easily spent another few hours their. Moving around and staying in one place for any length of time anywhere in Iraq presents a security problem that makes those guarding your safety nervous.

That night I took a helicopter ride from hell, not because my safety was in any way compromised, only that there were many stops, most of which to my way of thinking were unnecessary and inefficient. It took me 4 hours of flying to reach my destination, a trip that should have only taken about 45-60 minutes. Oh well, such are the vagaries of moving around this country, especially with the military.

The next day I took the "Rhino," an armored bus from Camp Victory near the Baghdad airport, to the so-called IZ or International Zone, known to most as "the Green Zone." From there, I was met by a PSD (personal security detail) from Inma, an organization dedicated to agribusiness development in Iraq (Inma means "progress" in Arabic), and taken to their compound in "the Red Zone." There I spent about a day and two nights meeting with the staff of the organization. Inma has been responsible for the fingerling distribution project as a means of jump-starting the aquaculture sector. They are also looking at funding a feed mill in Babil. I’ve mentioned their aquaculture specialist, Duane Stone, in an earlier posting, and got to spend a good bit of time with him as well as other staff. The Inma compound is a street in a pleasant neighborhood with some very nice houses, now occupied by different organizations. It probably was the place where Saddam’s buddies lived. The street was lined with tall date palms above and blast walls below. Some tough-looking Angolan guards were keeping watch on the street and on rooftops. For the first time since coming to Iraq, I heard the call to prayer from a mosque outside the compound. Staying on army bases means that I just haven’t had that opportunity. It was nice to hear it. Nearby the Inma compound was a huge unfinished "Grand Mosque" construction project with at least 15 idle cranes surrounding it. Apparently the project fell idle about 10 years ago and it has yet to resume.

I left the Inma compound early yesterday morning and was carried by the South African PSD responsible for compound security and transportation to a rendezvous with our team leader in the IZ. We then transferred to another PSD, this one run by some tough-looking Ukrainians and Serbs, for a trip to the Ministry of Agriculture in the Red Zone. We were accompanied by two gun trucks ahead and behind. We got to travel through some of the commercial parts of Baghdad as well as the area of large government buildings still showing signs of "shock and awe" from 2003. The objective of our meeting at the Ministry was to select from a group of applicants for entry into a M.S. degree program in agriculture at Texas A&M University. After exchanging pleasantries with a Deputy Minister, we asked "How many applications did you receive?" He looked surprised and said "None." It is hard to know what to make of this. It may be that Ministry staff are simply overwhelmed by all the things they have to do, or maybe they are overwhelmed with offers of money and assistance and are looking around for the best offer. It’s clear that the Iraqi government will not spend their own money when the U.S., other governments, and NGOs are offering to pay. In any case, we tried to impress upon the Deputy Minister and his assembled advisors that time is short for selecting applicants that will enter university this fall. (Due to funding constraints, the scholarship offer is time-sensitive.) They’ve rescheduled, so hopefully some worthy students will be studying agriculture in Texas this fall.
After the meeting, we returned to the IZ. We were told by someone who should know that the round trip IZ-Ministry cost $6,000. Such is the cost of doing business in Iraq!

Friday, July 11, 2008

To Hilla by Helo

Our work in Najaf is going well. After a few days of high-level meetings we began our visits to field sites, beginning with the Mishkab Rice Research Station in the heart of the rice-growing region of the country. Rice is one of the few agricultural success stories in Iraq with yields increasing by a factor of 10 between 2000 and 2007. In part this is explained by the use of high-yielding varieties from Vietnam, the Phillipines, and Thailand. Jasmine rice is very popular here, although the most desirable rice is an aromatic variety known as Ambar. There appears to be some interest in rice-fish culture here, although the prolonged drought means that water is scarce and rice is being farmed with the absolute minimum use of this precious resource. We talked with some farmers and landowners in the area, including one who owned about 350 acres and had a sharecropping arrangement with 50 households to farm this land. Unfortunately we did not have time to explore the full ramifications of this arrangement.

In the afternoon, our team split up, with about half remaining behind in Najaf, another group going to Baghdad for meetings and then on to Mosul in the north, and three of us going to REO (regional embassy outpost) Hilla. The REO is occupied mostly by folks from the State Department and the Babil PRT, with Blackwater providing security for most movements off the compound, and the Colombian army providing security for the base proper. The main part of the facility is a hotel that apparently was a playground for Saddam at one time. I’ve enjoyed having my own room (complete with in-room bathroom and TV!) for the first time since coming here.

The helicopter flight between Najaf and Hilla was amazing. We took off from the FOB, flying over a sandy plain dotted with Bedouin encampments, before passing by the edges of Najaf. Then, off to the right appeared the beautiful gilded dome of the Imam Ali Mosque, embedded in the old part of Najaf city.













Next we flew over the "Wadi as Salam" (the Wadi of Peace) cemetery, a vast expanse of above-ground tombs and below-ground catacombs where supposedly over 2 million people are buried, perhaps the largest cemetery in the world.














We then picked up the Euphrates River, following right along the emerald ribbon about 200 feet above the water, the door gunner waving at the kids who ran out of their houses as we passed by. We had beautiful views of the small farms and agricultural landscapes of the Euphrates River alluvial plain: date plantations, wheat and rice fields, fish ponds, bright green alfalfa fields, vegetable gardens, with canals going off away from the river. When the river took a sharp bend the helicopter accordingly banked steeply. Before long we were on the outskirts of Hilla and landed at the REO.

Can we go again?

Tuesday, July 8, 2008

The Governor of Najaf

A few days ago our team made the transition from Babil to Najaf Province. The helicopter flight from FOB Kalsu was fascinating with terrific views of the agricultural landscapes of the Euphrates River valley, including lots of fish ponds, most of them small (5 acres) but some huge ones (100 acres) as well.

The contrast of where we’ve been and where we are now couldn’t be more stark. We have moved from a large military base that served as brigade headquarters with a couple thousand soldiers and civilians to a tiny base with about 100 people total, which serves as the base for the Najaf PRT (Provincial Reconstruction Team). The main mission of the army units here is to provide security for the movements of the civilians into the province. There is also a small contingent of about 20 Ugandans (including the only three women here) who provide security on the base proper. The total number of American military personnel in the province is small, in contrast to the large presence in Babil. The Iraqi army "controls the battlespace," in the words of our PRT liaison here. We are now most definitely staying in the desert. A climb up a guard tower reveals a desolate sandscape in all directions.

Another contrast is that we are now working in an overwhelmingly Shiite area as opposed to a mixed Sunni/Shiite area in Babil. In fact, we are less than 10 km away from one of the holiest places in all of Shia Islam, the shrine of the Imam Ali. Unfortunately it is a "no go" zone for us so my curiosity must remain unsatisfied. The local officials we have met insist that Najaf is a safe place and have encouraged us not to where our body armor and helmets and that they would be able to provide adequate security. This may or may not be the case, but we are "high value" to the U.S. military and they are calling the shots on all our movements. I’m with the program.

On the day after arrival, we were invited to pay a courtesy call on the Governor of Najaf at his office. Doing formal meet-and-greets is a necessary part of our activities here, especially at the beginning of work in a province. I was really unprepared for the progressive outlook and intense and genuine interest in our work expressed by the Governor. He’s very much a hands-on, take-charge CEO type. In opening remarks to us he talked about the direct correlation between food security and overall security. After introductions of assembled provincial government officials by the Governor and introductions of our team by our leader, and the inevitable glass of chai, we moved to an adjacent conference room to continue the discussion. The agricultural representative on the Provincial Council made some particularly impassioned remarks, expressing his gratitude to America for the freedom they now have and for our presence in Najaf, signaling a interest in revitalizing agriculture. At this point, the councilman became quite emotional and choked back tears. It was a stirring moment.















The Governor of Najaf (C), the Director General for Agriculture (R), and the Head of Veterinary Services (L).

Shortly after this, a young woman who works in the governor’s office circulated around the room and gave each of us a card with embossed silver edges that reads:

4 of July is a symbolic day for the United States of America. Where life, liberty and pursuit of happiness was declared. We respect this historical day and we congratulate you for this event. We hope a great future for the Iraqi-American relationship and look to see it grow further.
Happy Independence Day
Sincerely yours
Asaad Sultan AbuGulal
Governor of the Holy city of Najaf

Members of Team Borlaug enjoying chai with some of the governor's staff.

I talked with one of our BBAs (translators) after our meeting and he told me that the Governor is considered to be one of the best provincial leaders in the whole country. He is popular with the people because he is making investments that are resulting in visible and tangible improvements to the quality of life in Najaf. Notably there is a new international airport scheduled to open within the next couple of weeks, intended in part to serve the huge religious tourism market (20 million visitors per year to a city of 1 million!). The Governor has also invested strategically in agricultural development. There are research stations for rice (we will visit there tomorrow), dates, sheep, and desert agriculture. All the agricultural officials we have met are very committed to change, but are operating under severe constraints associated with decades of neglect and politics of the gun under Saddam.

Our team had hoped to hit the ground running. We like to get out as much as we can to visit sites, talking with scientists and farmers and everyday people. We’ve been rather frustrated because the Najaf PRT has only been here for 7 weeks and they don’t appear to get outside the wire very much. In order for us to go out, we need grid coordinates and a point-of-contact in order for a reconnaissance team to scout the area prior to making the trip. The insulation of this particular PRT has proved a hindrance to us, although to their credit they now recognize this and are working hard to get us into the field. I think we finally broke through the logjam today and have trips for the month fairly well planned out.

Time is drawing short for me. After our trip to the rice research station tomorrow a subset of us will travel back to Babil Province. The wheels are turning to get me to the Euphrates Fish Farm for a day. Then, it will be on to Baghdad for a few days before departing in about one week.

Saturday, July 5, 2008

Innovators

[I wrote this blog entry before learning this morning about a security breach involving one of the military officers who accompanied us on the trip I describe here. As a result, I’ve gone back to what I’ve written and removed mention of specific people and places to reduce the potential for any negative repercussions.]

After several "extra" days in FOB Kalsu, feeling trapped behind the wire, I jumped at the opportunity to accompany one of my fellow team members to a poultry farm. The main purpose of the trip for the Civil Affairs officer who organized the visit, however, was to attend a meeting of the town council of a small Sunni community struggling to get back on it’s feet. We stopped at a nearby patrol base to pick-up a young captain who has been working directly with community leaders to help rebuild their area after decades of neglect and the more recent destructive activities of al Qaeda in Iraq. The patrol base is even more "forward" than the FOB or forward operating base where we have been staying for the last week. The base is small (two companies) but heavily fortified and the accommodations are basic at best.

The town council of this area consists of about 12-15 local sheiks. Throughout Iraq, U.S. Army Civil Affairs officers and captains at nearby bases are attempting to replace the old top-down command form of governing with bottom-up participatory decision-making. It’s not an easy task and predictably the results depend on the quality of local leaders. The captain working with this particular town council confided to me that he had been having difficulty with the group, with several meetings devolving into shouting matches. The meeting we attended was calm by this measure.









Grass-roots deomocracy-building in action.

The council leader acknowledged our presence and repeatedly insisted that he wanted to slaughter a sheep in our honor. Rather awkwardly and in what I considered to be a typically American direct way and without full appreciation for the nuance the situation required, the captain declined the offer, indicating that we had other appointments to keep. After a bit awkwardness, the meeting went on, with the council leader heaping effusive praise for the efforts of Coalition Forces, citing rehabilitation of irrigation canals, pumping stations, schools, and streets and the provision of electricity, improved plant seeds, and fertilizer as examples. They expressed satisfaction with the improved security situation, perceived to be attributable in large measure to the efforts of Coalition Forces. The U.S. military is seen as more effective than the Government of Iraq in getting things accomplished.

All this praise preceded the inevitable litany of needs. As our team has seen elsewhere, canal cleaning and power allocation emerged as priority items in this rural area. One problem occurring here is the opening of illegitimate secondary canals. In this community there are 13 "legal" and recognized secondary canals but now there are 36. This is troublesome because sections of the concrete lining of primary canals are destroyed to gain access to the water. To his credit, the captain tried to encourage a mindset of helping council members develop their own solutions for their own problems. There’s still a long way to go and it may take a generational shift for the potential of this approach to be fully realized.

One sheik demonstrated an ability to think beyond immediate and parochial needs to take personal initiative to help his local community. He collects $2 from every household and uses the money to hire workers to maintain the power distribution infrastructure (wires, poles, and transformers) in his area of influence. Unlike other parts of this area, which receive only 4 hours of electricity daily and the power distribution infrastructure is looted, the households in this community are supplied with electricity for 8 hours daily. The captain told me after the meeting that they are impressed with this sheik’s broad and innovative thinking and want to encourage him to stand for provincial elections this fall.

After the meeting, closed out by formal salutations and lots of man kissing, our convoy proceeded to the poultry operation owned by one of the sheiks on the town council. The sheik is a member of the Ghurari tribe of Sunni, well known for their skill in poultry farming. He learned how to produce chickens and eggs from his father and has been farming since 1970. He had to cease operations in 2004 because of the deteriorated security situation and only recently resumed production. Of the 18 poultry houses at his farm, only two were in operation at the time of our visit. According to the Civil Affairs captain who accompanied us, the sheik recently received a $5,000 micro-grant to buy chicks and then leveraged the grant to borrow enough to buy 12,000 chicks in an attempt to revitalize his poultry business.














An innovative poultry producer (2nd from right) talking with Chris Bailey, poultry scientist from Team Borlaug. Bilingual bicultural advisor (BBA) between them. U.S. Army Civil Affairs captain on the left.

My overwhelming impression is that this man is an innovator, a master farmer who is respected by his peers. He is clearly well-to-do; his house is large and apparently he has 4 wives and 77 children and grandchildren. Notably one of his daughters, a university graduate, serves as veterinarian for his operation. He is also the leader of an "Egg Association," with members representing 30-40 large producers but may eventually include as many as 100 members. He is clearly enthusiastic and optimistic about the future after several years of inactivity. Iraq has many people like this sheik, innovative and hopeful but lacking that initial injection of strategically placed resources to resume a normal life.

Tuesday, July 1, 2008

Sheik Adnan al Jenabi

The dust storm continues and is as thick as I’ve seen it. We are living in a Martian landscape. As a result, our helicopter flight to FOB Endeavor has been postponed until at least midnight. This has given everyone an opportunity to catch up on unfinished business. In my case, this allows me to provide another blog entry.

I want to tell you about our meeting this week with Sheik Adnan, who is head of the largest tribe of Sunni in Iraq, the Jenabi. Being Sunni, the Jenabi held a favorable position under Saddam and have been struggling with the effects of the war, a loss of power, and score-settling with the Shiites holding control. Sheikh Adnan is a powerful and worldly man. He was educated in Britain so he speaks excellent English. At one time, he was also an OPEC oil minister. He is being courted by the current Shiite leadership to become more involved in the government. There’s no doubt in my mind that he has the vision to be the leader of Iraq. Most of the local leaders we have met are rather parochial in their vision. Predictably they are most concerned about their particular local area or group that they lead. However, Sheik Adnan had a much broader vision about the future of the country, one that includes all groups. He told us that the current Government of Iraq inherited the worst government that existed in the world. He said, "We landed on our heads and are struggling to get back on our feet."

We visited him at his expansive house about a 45 minute drive from FOB Kalsu on the main north-south road that connects Baghdad with Basra. The team had met with him prior to my arrival in early June and he asked that the team return at the end of the month to give him our views. Ed Price, our team leader, spoke about the need to repair the irrigation infrastructure (both supply and drainage), the need for programs directed at youth, the need to provide improved seed and broodstock, the need to address plant and animal diseases, and the need to improve the extension service. While Ed talked, the Sheik Adnan made notes and listened intently, all the while fingering his prayer beads. The sheik in turn provided comments on each point in support of our findings and recommendations, putting on his glasses to refer to his notes, then taking them off again as he talked.

We were accompanied by Colonel James, commander of the Fourth Brigade here at FOB Kalsu, Colonel Shuck, James’ executive officer, Howard van Vranken, a diplomat who leads the ePRT (embedded provincial reconstruction team) for Babil, and others. Sheik Adnan’s retinue included sheikhs in traditional dress and other security and support people. At first we met in a giant room and I couldn’t hear a thing, especially with all the fans going. We moved to a slightly less giant room and I was able to hear a few words now and then, but the U.S. colonels and diplomats sitting next to Sheik Adnan were hanging on the his every word and taking notes all the while. Clearly they recognize the power he holds.

I managed to have a brief exchange with the sheik about aquaculture as we were taking our leave. I intended only to drop a passing remark about my interest while I shook his hand to thank him for his hospitality but he held onto my hand and with enthusiasm told me of his involvement in the development of aquaculture in Iraq. I learned that he was one of the pioneers of aquaculture in the country, having worked at the big fish farm near Iskandaria. He said that, next to the highly esteemed fat-tailed sheep, fish farming is the most profitable agricultural activity in the province. He was responsible for introducing some improved carp broodstock into Iraq, personally making several trips to Hungary to arrange for the transport of fish.

Of course, we had another great meal with huge platters of saffron rice and vermicelli, roasted chicken, and large chunks of fat-tailed lamb. On the side were loaves of flatbread and bowls of vegetable soup with tomatoes and eggplant. After lunch there were the obligatory multiple rounds of super-sweet tea (chai) in small glasses and more conversation. Just before leaving the sheik led us to the back garden of his house, which includes a huge coffee pot with a curved spout, the symbol of the Jenabi people. We took the obligatory ceremonial pictures and Ed presented Sheik Adnan with the token Texas A&M cap and t-shirt, which was graciously received. Another savory meal, and another memorable visit with a remarkable man.














Sheik Adnan flanked by Colonel James, commander of FOB Kalsu (L) and his XO Colonel Shuck (R), both of the Fourth Brigade, Third Infantry Division, in front of the symbolic coffee pot.

Monday, June 30, 2008

Red Sky

We’ve had a couple of dust storms over the last few days. The wind blows hard from the northwest and the air fills with a fine grit that you can feel in your eyes, throat, and deep down in your lungs. You can literally smell the dust in the air and taste it on your mouth. The sky takes on an a twilight pall like orange sherbet, the sun completely obscured. The dust finds it’s way through the crevices in our office tent and covers everything with a thin film that drifts thicker in the corners and the places we don’t walk. The dust holds in the heat, so even at 10 o’clock the other night, it was still well over 100 degrees.














View toward the helicopter LZ at FOB Kalsu during dust storm.
They call it "red sky" here. The helicopters don’t fly and the soldiers don’t like it because al Qaida uses the severe storms as cover to plant IEDs. Waleed, one of our BBAs (bi-lingual bicultural advisors), told me that the frequency of dust storms has increased in recent years and that it is unusual to have them at this time of year. Now we’ve had two in the last three days. There is some speculation that the lack of vegetative cover because of the dilapidated state of the irrigation system is a contributing factor. Others suggest this is another manifestation of global climate change. In any event, it is an interesting weather phenomenon, unusual to most of us and occasionally inconvenient those with travel plans. The other day I was able to get the last seat on a helicopter carrying the general in charge of British forces here to the Euphrates Fish Farm, one of the largest in Iraq. I was very excited to finally have the opportunity but my hopes were dashed when we were informed that a dust storm was on it’s way. Dang! Several on the team have come down with the "Kalsu Krud," a hacking cough deep in the chest and difficulty being able to speak. So far, so good for me, but I can definitely feel the effects on my breathing.

Today we presented our report to the base command and others. It was well-received and generated lots of interesting discussion about follow-up and implementation. For my part, I am pushing to get some new carp broodstock here from Hungary. I’ve initiated some contacts and hope to be able to follow through, perhaps with help with transport from the Army.

Tomorrow we move to FOB Endeavor in Najaf Province. Everyone here at FOB Kalsu and Babil Province has been great and very supportive of our work. Time is passing quickly and I hope to make the best of the time remaining.

Friday, June 27, 2008

Aquaculture Inside the Wire

I’ve been a bit frustrated over the last several days. Babylon is the province with the largest area of aquaculture ponds in the country, yet I’ve only seen two rather small fish farms (although these were very interesting to visit). The province also has two very large fish farms (each around 1,000 acres), neither of which I have seen or am likely to see. I’ve not seen any hatcheries or feed mills. Our schedule has been largely controlled by the military and the places we have visited have been pre-selected.

Much of what I have come to know about aquaculture has occurred “inside the wire,” on FOB Kalsu, the U.S. military base where we have been staying the last few days. Fortunately, I have been able to meet with a couple of really interesting and knowledgeable people to learn about aquaculture here.

A couple of days ago, Dr. Khalil I. Saleh from Musayyib Technical College came to the FOB to give the team a talk on aquaculture in Iraq. Dr. Saleh is a wiry, slightly-built man, extremely personable and engaging. His English is excellent and tinged with a distinct French accent no doubt picked up during his doctorate work at a university in Toulouse. I liked him right away, a fellow fish brother. We had a chance to chat during lunch and before his talk. I had so many questions to ask, which continued right up until the moment he had to leave.

Then, yesterday, I met with Duane Stone of INMA, which is part of USAID’s effort in agricultural development over here. Duane is a former Special Forces soldier and has experience working at a feed mill and a fish farm with catfish and tilapia in North Carolina. Duane has been working with one of the largest fish farms in the country, the Euphrates Fish Farm. (Incidentally, the “correct” pronunciation phonetically is Oi-fur-ot.) The Euphrates Fish Farm has about 1,000 water surface acres. The main production ponds are 100 acres each! Duane was working with the farm to produce fingerlings for distribution to farmers. At it’s peak the farm produced about 12 million fingerlings. Last year the farm produced 2 million fingerlings, which were distributed to about 100 farmers who had registered and become members of their local agricultural associations, which appear to be the main mechanism to transfer subsidies, technology, and information to farmers.

Aquaculture in Iraq includes several large-scale operations like Euphrates Fish Farm, but most farms are small. Overall, the average farm size in Iraq is about 20-30 dunam (1 dunam = 2,500 m2 = 0.62 acres). The average fish farm has about 1-5 ponds, each of which is about 1-5 dunam. Ponds are stocked at a low density (1 fish per 10-15 m2) because options to aerate ponds at higher fish densities are limited by the lack of consistent and reliable electrical power nationwide. The interesting thing about these family-scale ponds is the use of on-farm inputs such as barley and alfalfa as sources of nutrition for the fish. The interest in improving the quality of feeds for aquaculture in Iraq is keen. However, the country has no source of oil-seed meal, which would serve as the key source of protein in the diet. Most manufactured feeds are produced by dry extrusion, resulting in a sinking pellet with poor water stability. Most of the mills that produce feed are small by Western standards, but they are multi-purpose, producing feed for poultry too.

I just realized that I had not mentioned the species of fish that are grown! Common carp dominates, but the system also includes silver carp and grass carp, each at about 10% of the stocked population. Not a big carp fan here, but the market acceptance is good and ALL fish are marketed live. I visited with one fish seller in the market in Jabella and he sells between 50-100 kg of live fish every day, enough to make a decent living by current standards. Apparently the live fish market on River Road in Baghdad is something to see. Iraqis like to eat fish at least once a week, usually on Friday, but Wednesday is also a good day to eat carp.

There is a concerted effort to get fish farmers to register as official farms and to join their local agricultural association. The criteria to register as an official farm include:
1) siting ponds on reclaimed land,
2) siting ponds on land where soils are too saline for crop production, and
3) siting ponds where water use will not impact water for irrigation.
Basically this means that “official” fish farms should be located in marginal land, not suitable for crop production. Carp can tolerate the slightly saline water (3-4 ppt) that drains from irrigated fields. Soil salinization has been and continues to be a chronic problem with irrigated agriculture in a hot desert environment.

Did I say how hot it was today? Go pre-heat your oven to 450. Once pre-heated open the oven door and stick your face in the blast of heat. That’s what it was like today, for some reason much hotter than any day so far, somewhere in the upper 120s. Don’t know if I’ve ever experienced heat like that. It felt like my eyeballs were going to dry out and shrivel up. The breeze was biting. Yikes! Another day like this forecast for tomorrow.

More on aquaculture later, but thought I’d give a flavor of that here, especially b/c it’s the title of this blog.

Monday, June 23, 2008

A Visit with Sheik Jaffar

I thought I would have more time and opportunity to post to this blog but our schedule has been very demanding and connections to the Internet have been hit or miss. There’s already so much to say and I feel as though I’ve already fallen a bit behind. This is the prevailing sentiment among the team so our schedule today has now afforded us an opportunity to catch up on laundry, reports, and email.

I suppose the best way to describe what we’ve been doing is to go through the general approach. Each morning, usually before 0700 we receive a briefing on the day’s schedule from a lieutenant or sergeant, often from a Patrol Base located in the area we will be visiting. Although we are staying at a FOB (forward operating base), the Patrol Bases are even more forward. Everything is meticulously planned, scheduled, and coordinated. After the briefings we gear up with body armor and helmet and climb into the back of an MRAP (mine-resistant ambush protectant), the successor to the humvee. Most of the soldiers don’t like them, but they do get the job done when it comes to protecting against most IEDs. We leave the base in a convoy of about 6 MRAPs and 3 or 4 humvees and proceed to the day’s destinations. When we arrive at a destination the soldiers in the platoon will deploy to form a bubble around our group.

At this point we do our work: asking farmers about their issues, talking with the leaders of local agricultural associations, mayors, and sheiks who are working with Coalition Forces (the term used here). The key relationships seem to be between army captains and local leaders. In many cases, they have formed strong bonds of friendship that appear to be genuine, although no doubt there is also a price for that friendship.

Again, there’s so much to write about and the experience has been extremely rich and fulfilling so far, even though I've been here less than a week. It has also been extremely demanding mentally and physically, especially with the intense heat (yesterday afternoon 118 F) and having to wear body armor while we are out. I’d like to tell you about Sheik Jaffar, who lives in the village of Khidr in Babil Province. We visited him in an area where AQI (Al Qaida in Iraq) had been extremely active for quite some time. They essentially destroyed his entire village and nearly all structures in the surrounding area. A Shiite shrine of some local reknown was just a pile of bricks. We heard stories of AQI’s brutality and how they were finally driven out of the area. With incredible perseverance and dedication, and with the financial assistance of Coalition Forces, Sheik Jaffar is rebuilding his community. We saw a primary school that was nearing completion and several residences were rebuilt to the point that they were inhabitable.

Sheik Jaffar gave us a tour through his village and hosted us in his house. We sat in chairs along the wall of a large room; our team, some U.S. army officers, Sheik Jaffar and several of his sons, and other local sheiks and leaders. Sheik Jaffar is the chairman of the 13-member Board of Directors of the Al Izdihar Agricultural and Fisheries Association, which has 1600 members. Among other things, Sheik Jaffar is a fish farmer. I was fortunate to have the chance to sit with him for awhile and ask him about his own operation and about the constraints facing aquaculture in Iraq more broadly. We spoke in broad general terms about aquaculture in Iraq and prospects for further development in the area, for which he is very optimistic.

The highlight of this visit was the incredible feast that was laid our for us. Several of the sheik’s sons came into the room with blue folding metal tables and opened them up in one long line. The table was covered with a plastic tablecloth. Next, working down both sides of the table, individual loaves of flatbread were laid out. Then came the main course, about a half-dozen heaping platters of saffron rice with raisins, topped with sheep stew. Smaller dishes with tomatoes and cucumbers and more with pieces of flatbread soaking in pan drippings followed. We all stood around the table and ate. We had the option to eat with our hands or with spoons. Although my hand eating technique was a bit rusty, I soon got the hang of it again and enjoyed the savory meal immensely. After some mutual expressions of gratitude between our time leader and Sheik Jaffar following after-dinner tchai (tea), we returned to base. And this was my first day in the field!!

I want to finish this post by talking about some of the support people who are making this possible. To me, the translators attached to our group are absolutely critical to any potential "success" that will come out of our being here. Not only are they translators, but much more than that they are intepreters, both of what we ask and what is said to us. They are extremely knowledgeable about agriculture and development. They are committed to building a new Iraq and to doing so in alliance with Coalition Forces. I have enjoyed getting to know Dr. Fouad, "Dave," Waleed, and Adid over these last few days. We’ve talked about many things, some serious and some frivolous. I think they enjoy our company too (although they are distracted with some high-level soccer matches going on right now).

The other group I want to talk about are the men and women of the Army that have sheltered us on their bases, transported us to where we need to go, provided for our physical protection, and most importantly have done the kind of community development work that has allowed what we are doing to happen. I have been extremely impressed by the skills and professionalism of our troops. Everyone in the U.S. should be half as proud as I am of these young men and women. It has been an honor and a privilege to engage with them as they work to stabilize their areas of operation. From all the conversations I’ve had, it appears that the corner was turned about 8 months ago. Although many hot spots remain, the areas where we have been working have been very quiet since then. No doubt there are a lot of reasons for this, but primary among them has been the diligence and dedication of our front-line military, especially the sergeants, lieutenants, and captains who are engaging particular Iraqi leaders in particular communities and establishing the kind of relationship that can lead to stability and development. There is much to do here, but the potential is enormous.