Time Compression
It seems like much more time than a week has past since my last update at Easter. There is a phenomenon that seems to compress time here, like dog years, when we work these long hours everyday. The network has been extremely slow all week and I've been unable to upload pictures. The telephone also has been spotty, catching...ery...othe...ord... you get the idea.
I took a trip to the hospital again on Monday to assess the medical equipment needs that might not be met by our contract. The 194th ENG sent LTC B with us. LTC B brought two boxes of beani babies and our PAO specialist Denise brought two bags of Easter candy. We took a rare trip to the childrens ward to give out the toys and candy, and take a nose count on oxygen tank regulators, incubators and xray equipment. I took our group to the operating rooms where we donned gowns and tyvek booties, including the armed security team with us. This French built, pre-fab hospital from 1984 has slowly transformed itself into a decaying hulk with half its former 260 bed capacity remaining because of plumbing failures and roof leaks. Even now, water closets from the floor above drip into the patient rooms. Mothers anxiously care for each child at their beds, six to a room and some beds in the corridors. Families provide all the patient care here, including linens and food. Denise is swarmed by expectant mothers outside the operating theater that empty her two shopping bags of candy in minutes. The mothers are older here than I expected, all dressed in their traditional black dress.
The 10% design review was giving me fits, and the contractor couldn't come to meet me on Tuesday because of the pilgrimage to Karbalah putting us "out of bounds," so we went to them in Basrah. The trip to Basrah was uneventful, except for the amazing stream of traffic north. Mini-vans, buses, cars, trucks, motorcycles, pedestrians and bicycles on the road north. This is a limited access highway, Saddam's military highway to Kuwait. Coming our way in the southbound breakdown lanes on both sides was another two lanes of traffic speeding north, occasionally jumping into our lanes to dodge breakdowns and rattan shacks selling refreshments scattered randomly along the route. The strangest site was a motorcycle drafting three racing bicycles, the riders in full lycra outfits... next year's Tour de France competitors maybe?
We met with contractors at the Brit camp in Basrah and came to terms on where they were going with their design that afternoon. The Iraqi subcontractor has some very interesting ideas about how to make this aging western hospital into the flagship of healthcare it once was, but he likes to do it with working models and meetings, he is apparently saving a lot of paper for the 30% design. His favorite saying, "Maku miscula," no problem, as he agrees this week to our demands and goes right back to his old position the following week. A cultural thing I've tried unsuccessfully to get used to, the Iraqis tell you what they think you want to hear.
The food and the gym at Basrah were very good and Rick and I enjoyed our trip down. While we were there, Keith and I got word from his Norwegian contact that our Brit generator was going to be hauled north by the Italians for the provincial testing lab in a week or two. The lab has been without power for half its workday and put the squeeze on us for a generator last month. Keith works with us in the Electrical Sector and came up with a few 250KVA generators to spare in Basrah. Unfortunately, the one we had our eye on to solve the sewage pumping station problem in Nasiriyah is too small.
This week was Farrell's last and he started home yesterday. It was a sad farewell for the Iraqi engineers that he has shepherded here. They all came out to see him off on Friday. At his official farewell ceremony Friday night, the New England crew each took a shot at roasting him, then the crew took him to Camp Mittica for one final Italian pizza.
I took a trip to the hospital again on Monday to assess the medical equipment needs that might not be met by our contract. The 194th ENG sent LTC B with us. LTC B brought two boxes of beani babies and our PAO specialist Denise brought two bags of Easter candy. We took a rare trip to the childrens ward to give out the toys and candy, and take a nose count on oxygen tank regulators, incubators and xray equipment. I took our group to the operating rooms where we donned gowns and tyvek booties, including the armed security team with us. This French built, pre-fab hospital from 1984 has slowly transformed itself into a decaying hulk with half its former 260 bed capacity remaining because of plumbing failures and roof leaks. Even now, water closets from the floor above drip into the patient rooms. Mothers anxiously care for each child at their beds, six to a room and some beds in the corridors. Families provide all the patient care here, including linens and food. Denise is swarmed by expectant mothers outside the operating theater that empty her two shopping bags of candy in minutes. The mothers are older here than I expected, all dressed in their traditional black dress.
The 10% design review was giving me fits, and the contractor couldn't come to meet me on Tuesday because of the pilgrimage to Karbalah putting us "out of bounds," so we went to them in Basrah. The trip to Basrah was uneventful, except for the amazing stream of traffic north. Mini-vans, buses, cars, trucks, motorcycles, pedestrians and bicycles on the road north. This is a limited access highway, Saddam's military highway to Kuwait. Coming our way in the southbound breakdown lanes on both sides was another two lanes of traffic speeding north, occasionally jumping into our lanes to dodge breakdowns and rattan shacks selling refreshments scattered randomly along the route. The strangest site was a motorcycle drafting three racing bicycles, the riders in full lycra outfits... next year's Tour de France competitors maybe?
We met with contractors at the Brit camp in Basrah and came to terms on where they were going with their design that afternoon. The Iraqi subcontractor has some very interesting ideas about how to make this aging western hospital into the flagship of healthcare it once was, but he likes to do it with working models and meetings, he is apparently saving a lot of paper for the 30% design. His favorite saying, "Maku miscula," no problem, as he agrees this week to our demands and goes right back to his old position the following week. A cultural thing I've tried unsuccessfully to get used to, the Iraqis tell you what they think you want to hear.
The food and the gym at Basrah were very good and Rick and I enjoyed our trip down. While we were there, Keith and I got word from his Norwegian contact that our Brit generator was going to be hauled north by the Italians for the provincial testing lab in a week or two. The lab has been without power for half its workday and put the squeeze on us for a generator last month. Keith works with us in the Electrical Sector and came up with a few 250KVA generators to spare in Basrah. Unfortunately, the one we had our eye on to solve the sewage pumping station problem in Nasiriyah is too small.
This week was Farrell's last and he started home yesterday. It was a sad farewell for the Iraqi engineers that he has shepherded here. They all came out to see him off on Friday. At his official farewell ceremony Friday night, the New England crew each took a shot at roasting him, then the crew took him to Camp Mittica for one final Italian pizza.
posted by Bob at 10:46 AM
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