The sealed enveloped I received from UNIMA’s reception had my name on as well as the room number: 2b. That did not tell me anything. As we left the reception area, a woman greeted one of the UNDP colleagues and said that the Compound bar, called UNdercover -or secondary triage area, was still open for business. The bar opens three nights a week and Thursdays, being the last day of the working week, remains open until the last customer decides to leave. I later heard that this particular evening the bar ended activities at 6am.
I had a hard time opening the door of my room as I could not find any light around. The UNIMA room is a fully carpeted rectangle of 6×4 meters with a full-size bed, a nice and generous wooden work desk with a lamp, a stand-alone two-door 1.90 meter wooden wardrobe with drawers and hangers, satellite TV, wired Internet, AC, heater, two towels and two bars of soap, and a fridge with at least 20 bottles of water and one little milk carton -similar to those I pack for my son’s school lunch back in NY. The hand-wash sink is in one of the corners of the the room but the shower and toilet are in a separate room directly connected to the main container. The room has one small window facing the narrow walk path outside but it is covered by an external wall and/or sandbags. So one never gets any natural light once inside.
Once I entered 2b, I sense a lot of humidity in the air and the typical smell that comes with it. I soon discovered that about 1 meter (from the wall) of the carpet was completely wet, from the restroom wall all the way down to the bed. I had to tip toe my way around to use the sink. I soon discovered that the toilet pipe was broken and should be closed all the times to void further damage. I planned to report this to UNIMA the following morning. Eventually, I had no choice but to switch rooms as the problem could not be fixed.
Compared to the US DFACs we frequented the previous days, UNAMI’s is pretty small. And no weapons are allowed. The food is of better quality (size matters!) and includes more international options. They also have great desserts but the coffee is below par. A few tables have been set up just outside the DFAC where one can sit and enjoy the weather as there is not roof or protection from mortar or rocket attacks. This area looks like a small town square to which most Compound maze paths eventually connect. Sitting here is great but one has to deal with the low flying US helicopters which make a thundering noise.
As I was heading to the gate I run into several of the colleagues that I have met back in November at the mandatory security training course (SAIT) held in Amman. Most of these young guys are PSDs. A few of them will be taking care of for the next few days. However, going to Diwan does not require PSD support. We did not either have to wear our PPEs which we loaded into the back of the SUV. I had a hard time opening and closing the doors of the armored vehicle as they were unexpectedly heavy.
The first thing one notices in the IZ is that every single road and building is surrounded by thick concrete walls which are 3 meters high, more or less. It is thus difficult to see anything around other than the innumerable check points, plenty of cars and very few people walking in the streets. I was able to see a few beautiful houses in the area which, to my surprise, had no roof protection and show no signs of being targeted. In this area, we can find Sadam’s Presidential Palace (now part of the US Embassy); large villas for Saddam’s family, friends and former Baath party loyalists; the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier; the Military History Museum; and a large park which hosts the well-known crossed sabers and parade route. At any rate, it took us 15 minutes to get to Diwan and had to only clear one check-point.
Later that evening, while having dinner at the DFAC in UNIMA, I asked one of my more veteran Arab colleagues why was the UN Compound called Tamimi. “And, by the way, what does Tamimi stand for”, I added. This time, i had previously checked on the Web. The answers I found there did not satisfy me. So I had to ask. Turns out Tamimi is the name of a large Saudi company founded by a Sheikh who’s last name was, well, Tamimi. The company was apparently awarded the contract to build the Compound a few years ago. And the work Tamimi has no meaning whatsoever.
Back in my container room, as the evening progressed at a seemingly slow pace, I started to wonder why the UNdercover bar only opens 3 nights a week. I promptly understood why…
Post Edited: In Baghdad, finally… https://t.co/MyySF4DGXh