Living Inside Baghdad Airport

BAGHDAD, Sept 1, 2008 — -- "This place -- well, we like to joke that it's actually a hotel masquerading as an airport."

That's what a Western employee of the Western company that oversees the Baghdad International Airport told me one night recently as I sat during an eight-hour wait for my flight to Dubai. I was leaving Iraq's capital after a short trip in ABC's bureau there, flying two hours on an airline that everyone calls by its former name -- Jupiter -- probably because its current name is too embarrassing.

I mean, would you want to tell your mother you were flying out of Baghdad on Ave.com?

The Westerner I spent the evening with probably wouldn't appreciate my using his real name, so we'll call him "Mike."

Mike and I sat in the new black leather seats that fill the airport's one lounge. In front of us, two small cafes that serve drinks and snacks (samosas, yes, but past 7 p.m. don't ask for water that's not frozen). Behind us was a duty free shop with a bad selection of cheap luggage, a nice selection of expensive Cuban cigars and oddities like polo shirts labeled "Baghdad Country Club." Above us, a strange series of what look like PVC wind chimes that cover the ceiling.

As we spoke a young Iraqi boy zigzagged his way between the rows of leather chairs, making fighter jet sounds. He held a bright blue toy plane in one hand, his arms outstretched as if they were wings. The plane was a model of an American F-16.

"I've seen plenty of weird things here. Good entertainment value," Mike said, taking a drag of his fourth cigarette in the last hour. "I'm not bored yet."

His favorite story: the time a Russian pilot started yelling at the co-pilot after the latter was so drunk, he'd almost crashed trying to land. In response, the drunken pilot had pulled out a gun and started waving it around on the plane.

Mike and I chatted about why he came to Iraq from Washington ("the money") and what it was like to work -- and live -- at an airport in a war zone.

The 40 to 50 Western employees and the 300 or so locals who oversee the airport live in a compound just outside the main terminal. The ex-pats even set up a bar.

"It's quiet now, but a few months ago, it was kind of strange to listen to the sound of mortars as you drink," he says. "It'd be one thing if you were in a foxhole. But you're just hanging out, sipping a beer."

They're not the only ones who live here.