Baghdad Journal: May 10, 2006

ByABC News
May 10, 2006, 2:49 PM

May 10, 2006 — -- In a good mood? Let me see what I can do about that. From time to time, you see or hear things in this country that can get you a little down, things that are like a punch in the gut. They sneak up on you -- it is not always violence or explosions or blood.

We spent the afternoon at Baghdad University, usually a fairly pleasant place to visit. We were talking to professors about books being donated by students in the United States to replenish the libraries that were burned and looted after the war; a feel-good story by most measurements.

After the interview, I was chatting with one of the physics professors who spoke good English. He was a tiny, older man. He had to be about 70 years old and couldn't weigh more than 110 pounds. But he had a strong, wise way about him.

I asked him if he had concerns about security. Immediately, his eyes seemed to mist over a bit. And then he patted his pocket where he kept his cell phone. "Thank God for my cell phone," he said. "Twice a day, I call my daughters to make sure they are still alive."

Think about that. He calls his daughters, not to say hello, not to talk about dinner, but to make sure they haven't been killed. He does it every day.

On that cheery note, on to some reader questions:

What are your getting-out capabilities now?

We can get out, but we have to have a good reason and know where we are going -- and know that where we are going is safe. So we can't leave the compound just to get fresh air or to take in the scenery. Also, I used to do "stand-ups" or "on-cameras" on crowded Baghdad streets, but we don't do that anymore. It simply isn't worth the risk.

But getting out is overrated when you have a smelly dog to keep you company. Plus, bureau chief Bruno Roeber is wearing short shorts, socks, running-sneakers and a khaki blazer. He is British, so I guess it is only sort of weird. He says it helps him "look smart," plus he can still go to the gym. Also, we have a large Russian engineer who, instead of saying your name, sings it. So even when we can't get out, at least we can funk out.