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Thursday, March 06, 2003 Basement Files: Human shield: Second in a series
The continuing journal entries of Sasha Linbury, the 21-year-old UNLV student now serving as a human shield in Iraq.
Feb. 5, 2003 Arrival in Baghdad
Well, we're finally here. Shortly after 1 p.m. we pulled into the great square in front of the Ministry of Information. We were swarmed by well-wishers and a charming children's choir entertained us with the traditional song of greeting, "Dai Boosh Dai," which we're told roughly translates as "Lay your burdens down, weary traveler." Gosh, what a neat culture. The Ministry guy said our group would be sleeping on the factory floor of an ammonia plant on the outskirts of Baghdad. I raised my hand and asked if maybe I could be reassigned, 'cause the smell of ammonia totally makes me gag. And of course everybody had to snort and roll their eyes, you know, like Americans are so pampered and stuff. Well, I'm sorry, but I did not come all this way to smell like a Texaco bathroom. I don't mind being bombed, or maybe even killed, but I will not have that funky, spilled-milk early-September cafeteria smell in my clothes. That's just gross.
Feb. 6
Today was a day off so we all went to this really amazing street bazaar. There was this lady selling these way overpriced cloisonne bracelets, and even though she was wearing this weird headdress, you could tell she was totally thin and pretty. So I asked her if she was on Atkins. And did she worry about eating all that protein? And does she ever let herself cheat a little with the carbs? And she just stares at me like she's got no idea what I'm talking about. (Jesus, women and their diet secrets. Help a sister out, would you?) Finally, she just cuts me off and says she's on the U.N. Sanctions Diet. Well, I don't know what it is, but I'm totally looking into it when I get back home. God, I hope it's not that weird flour paste that all the starving Indian babies eat with their fingers in those tacky Sally Struthers commercials. I'd rather get fat than eat that shit. I'm serious.
Feb. 7
The whole group had to paint a giant red cross on the roof of the ammonia plant today. So now I'm not only a human shield for American bombs, but I've got this like huge target painted on my roof. What are these people thinking?
Feb. 8
This Irish girl, Siobhan, and I went to an elementary school today to share cultures with our hosts. The kids were so cute. Siobhan brought her guitar along and we tried to teach the kids the words to R.E.M.'s "Everybody Hurts." I thought it was a good song to show that we totally sympathize with their impending deaths. We were surprised to learn that none of the kids had ever heard of Michael Stipe. So I told them, "Michael Stipe is a lovely and talented gay vegan man who is totally against America killing you. Or would be, if he were still famous." (While I did this, Siobhan drew a picture of Michael Stipe. Well, it was really just a stick figure with a bald head, but it totally looked like him. She's way talented.) As we were rapping with the kids, I suddenly realized the whole class was all boys. So I asked the teacher where all the girls were. Well, there was like the most embarrassing silence. The teacher and the interpreter just stared at each other. And then it dawned on me...today must be the day when all the girls have to go to the library to watch "You and Your Menstrual Cycle: Shameful Offenses to Allah." (You're shedding more than your uterine lining...you're shedding your innocence.) My God, no wonder they were so embarrassed. Me and my big mouth. I could just die.
Feb. 9
Oh my God, I saw Sean Penn today!!! I am NOT kidding. He's way shorter in person, but still just a total hottie. I shouted across the street that I'd totally loved him in I Am Sam, and asked him if he could sign my journal. But instead of being gracious, he shoots me this totally hostile look, this "I'm here on a big international fact-finding mission and not to trade on my celebrity" stare. God, what a jerk. No wonder Madonna kicked his ass to the curb. I mean, why is it always the intense and brooding Hollywood stars who take up the big important causes? Like moody old Richard Gere trying to save the llamas and stuff. How come the happy stars who actually like people never want to save mankind? For instance, I bet Bono would have signed my journal. He's all political, but at least he remembers who buys the albums that allow him to jet-set around the world denouncing free-market capitalism. I mean, at least he's consistent.
Feb. 10
Siobhan and I had a falling out today. We were polishing these mondo expensive aluminum rods when I noticed her lips were way chapped. So, trying to be nice, I offered her my Udder Balm. I said, "I know it's got a gross name, but it totally works." So she takes the tube from me and starts reading the label. And then she says, "Wait a minute, is this stuff tested on animals?" And I'm like, "Ummm, duh, it's for cows." And she says only a "vacuous American princess would subsidize the systematic torture of animals blah blah blah." And I'm like, "Why are you being such a bitch?" And she says, "Just forget it. I'll buy my own makeup at the Taliban Duty-Free Shoppe." And I'm like...whatever. |
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