Another Spring in Baghdad

April 30, 2006— -- Back again -- nine times and counting.

I arrived at the ABC compound in Baghdad just after noon local time, and promptly carried my bags to room 117 in our lovely little hotel to unpack. Other than my cozy apartment on the Upper West Side of Manhattan, I have spent more nights in room 117 than any other place on planet earth the last few years.

Another way to put it is that this is my fourth consecutive spring spent in Iraq. The only difference this time is that I did not miss opening day. But since the Red Sox have chosen to have no offense this season, that in and of itself is not that thrilling. But I digress.

My first impressions after a few hours on the ground are this: Sameness, a whole lot of sameness -- and that is troubling to some Iraqis.

It is easy to see the frustration on the faces of my Iraqi friends who work with us. When I asked one colleague, "How's life?" He replied, "What life?" Pretty chilling.

I will now provide a few boring details about my journey here. When journalists get together, it usually takes no more than a few minutes before the discussion turns to what frequent flyer miles one has recently amassed, or what hotel points one is hoarding.

On this trip, I decided to forgo the mountain of Delta miles I usually get flying from New York to Paris, and then to Amman, Jordan. I decided I wanted to take a non-stop flight for the peace and alleged tranquility of the whole thing. So I booked the allegedly non-stop Royal Jordanian flight from New York to Amman.

I say allegedly, because I was awakened from a peaceful sleep to find we were landing in Rome. There was a sick passenger who needed treatment. I think he ended up okay, but it delayed our flight and we were not even allowed to visit the Forum or anything.

So I didn't get any good frequent flyer miles and the flight wasn't non-stop. Alas.

The good news, at least, was that once in Amman, I was able to have dinner with my ABC colleague and high school friend Stephanie Gosk. She is a London correspondent/producer who lived in Nathan Hale in 1986, when I was living in Rockwell (go blue!). She also played on the girl's ice hockey team that I co-managed. She was a better hockey player than I was a manager. And now we hang out in Amman. So that was fun.

So now I am here. Our little compound is best described as a couple of bed and breakfasts across a secluded street from each other.

It is a lot like Vermont, except for the lack of anything green, and absence of good cheddar. Plus, there aren't quite so many helicopters in Vermont.

But besides all that, and no Ben and Jerry's, it is really eerie how Vermont-ish it is.