Our Syria Team and Their Work

While I was in Syria, our work focused uniquely on the 4 days of training, with 2 days prep in advance, which was essentially a weekend anyway.  The “shuttle” schedule to cross the border emphasizes crossing the border on Thursdays to create efficiencies, and although they can organize drivers on other days, we didn’t want to inconvenience them. So we traveled Thursday to Thursday, and therefore was unable to do any site visits and see any of our program work being implemented. I was pretty disappointed, so instead I set about trying to learn a bit about our work and about the people who implement our work.

As I noted in an earlier post, our work in NE Syria focuses on a few types of programs. One is what we call emergency response- this is delivery of basic need supplies to people who are IDPs - internally displaced persons - or in Iraq, also refugees from another country. The fighting in Syria continues today in central and western Syria, as the Syrian government forces try to finish off ISIS forces which have infiltrated the country. In the early years of the war, the conflict was originally about the Syrian rebel forces trying to oust Asad’s Syrian government regime, which pitted Russian and US coalition forces against each other as well. In the midst of that mess, ISIS entered the conflict, trying to profit from the chaos for their own cause.  Today, Asad and his government forces have regained control of a portion of the country, and a stable but precarious agreement has been made with Kurdish forces in the North East (including Derik area). Although all kinds of foreign influences continue to play in the Syrian sandbox (the US, Russia, Iran, Iraq, other European and Middle Eastern forces), many parts of Syria are now more stable than before, and the Syrian government is working to eradicate the last of the ISIS fighters.

My rudimentary summary here is relevant because it means that people in different parts of the country have very different needs, and our support for them has to be based in on-the-ground real time information, and it has to be multi-faceted and intentional, depending on the need. Thus, we see Syrians who are living in places in, or very near to the active conflict, plus those who have fled their homes but are living in camps or host communities inside Syria, and have almost nothing, and depend on humanitarian aid for food, water, hygiene supplies, sometimes blankets or tents (NFI is a term we often use for basic need “non-food item”). Our agency, along with many others working here, will conduct distributions of basic supplies, based on very carefully crafted lists of people who have the highest need and vulnerability, because it’s often not possible to provide services to every person in a community. In Iraq, Jordan and Lebanon (and previously also in Turkey), we also support to refugees who fled Syria and managed to cross the border and ended up in a refugee or host community there. Mercy Corps is one of the largest implementers of humanitarian aid to the Syrian crisis in the region.

In addition to our work that is first response, basic need focused, we are also working on longer term recovery programs at the same time- to give people a foundation to build their lives back on. We are rehabilitating water system points, so that we can help communities transition from having to truck water in, to going back to using water from functional pipes and faucets in their homes or at least neighborhood water points. One problem with war is that infrastructure like water, sewer and electrical systems get destroyed and it’s a lot of work to rebuild them all. Typically, our water rehabilitation work will come with hygiene promotion training and messaging- it’s critical to remind families of basic practices like handwashing in situations like this, because disease can spread so quickly. Farms and farming equipment, and other small business supplies- think bakeries, shops, warehouses, any supply chain for goods- also all need to be re-established and rebuilt in order for a local economy to come back to life. Based on needs assessments, we also do what’s called unconditional cash transfers- giving cash to families and businesses to use the local market to rebuild their farm or small business. The idea is that people know best what they need to spend money on, when, and why. That only works when the market is starting to come to life again and there are things to buy. In some cases, we provide vouchers instead of cash, and in some cases we will support the value chain importing of key equipment and supplies needed, if the local economy hasn’t done so yet. Somewhere in our formal media publications there are probably some good, detailed profiles of our work and stories of families. If I think of it, I’ll link them here.

Because I wasn’t able to go to our program sites and see the work myself, I sought to learn a little more about the people who manage these programs. In our training group, we had about equal parts program managers, who plan, lead and manage these different components of our work, divided into 3 key areas of emergency response, livelihoods, and water, sanitation and hygiene promotion (“WASH”). The other portion of the group was the monitoring and evaluation team, those who manage and maintain all of the details of what we’re doing where, who is eligible to receive what, who actually received what, the measurements of what difference it made and any feedback on our work, and all the data that we use to track that. And we had a couple senior managers of the whole area, as well. I decided to interview and profile a few of them, to at least be able to share a bit about our team. I’d promised our communications team at HQ that I’d do a little story work for them, since they aren’t able to send people out very often. So this was about the best I could offer. (stay tuned on whether any photos I took or stories I write actually get anywhere).

I interviewed 4 different Syrian staff, and then a couple of our expatriate staff. As I started interviewing our Syrian staff, I kept thinking I’d hear these really emotional stories, that they’d talk about their work with the people we’d serve, and tell me all about the activities we do and the people they’ve met. You know, I’d get sort of a second hand experience about our work through their storytelling. And yet, what I kept hearing was them telling me about their detailed office work, managing the documentation, the lists, the data, every signature, every receipt. Building and scaling a database tracker, even inspecting all the goods before the distribution, to make sure the expiration dates are good, and the supplies are the right quality. I asked them the hardest part about their job, and the best part of their job. I even asked them if there were moments when they knew that their jobs were really contributing to making a difference to the people we serve. I waited for an emotional or passionate soundbite.  And yet, I heard all about how important it is to get the documentation right. How hard it is to validate each list with each thing distributed- NFI, cash, vouchers, etc., and make sure each item matches with the right people and is received by the right people. I heard about the challenge with data entry and about the volume of work they had, with so many activities happening at the same time and the importance of processing the data and paperwork quickly, often finishing up the files and paperwork late into the evening.  When they talked about interacting with program participants, they described their role in making sure the participants understood the system, where to go, what papers to bring, and explaining why certain people were chosen over others- the very personal side of communication of all the details they are guardians over. And when I asked them the best parts of their job? They all said, getting it right.

It dawned on me that these are exactly the kind of people that we want and need on the front lines. They embodied a culture of caring, that even the details of the paperwork mattered- it mattered for accuracy of our work, for transparency, for integrity. At first, it sounds like a mind-numbing, bureaucratic machine of sorts- and it kind of is- but it is also what makes our work trustworthy and ensures that we get all the right stuff to the right people at the right time, and have a paper trail to prove it. The other thing that dawned on me is that these people are seven years into a war- they’ve all lost friends and family and if they haven’t been displaced themselves, they know plenty who have been, and they’ve felt the impact on the economy and infrastructure right in their own town. Many of the young men on our team are working long hours for us, and then studying at night. If they continue to take courses in pursuit of higher education, they can defer military conscription. So the emotionality of the conflict is not something just worn on their sleeves, it’s normalized by now. I have to imagine that deep down they have touching personal experiences with the people we serve, but it seemed to me that they’re less driven by the same heroic sense of philanthropy that I’d first assumed. They do the jobs they care about, they know how important their piece of the puzzle is to the wider work, and continue moving forward doing it the best way they can. For that I’m grateful, and in awe.

PHOTOS:

Ronak Omar, based in Derik but from a small town called Quamshly. She is a Data Quality Assistant. She visits her parents and siblings on the weekends, and in her spare time is taking classes, such as English, GIS and Photoshop. “When we get the hard copy, we count distributions, whatever kind, we check the number, signature, we compare between the program and finance reports- and find inconsistencies or mistakes and work with various teams to reconcile it- livelihoods, emergencies. When you get the good results and the coordinators confirm the result is okay and is perfect - it is good.”

Ronak Omar

Hozan Khalife, originally from and also based in Derik. He is a Program Support Coordinator, working across all the programs. In his spare time he loves football (soccer) and supports Barcelona. He has a wife and two children, ages 3 and 5 years old. “Honestly I do a lot of the work after work time- working a lot of evenings and weekends. Sometimes it’s hard to say what is work- in February I spent 3 weeks of the month outside of the home in other towns, just working with partners, doing reconciliations, attending distributions- I know I’m not spending as much time with my children, but you have to make work a priority sometimes, it needs to be done. Friday is off limits though- all for the family.”

Hozan Khalife

Rafaa Ali is from a small town outside of Derik, and is based in Derik but works often in Mabadaa, Jawadiyah and some other locations. She is Monitoring, Evaluation and Learning Assistant. On the weekends she visits her family, takes English classes, and walks an hour a day for sport. “For example, when I go to some places, I know how to dress and get to know the people, how to talk to with them. We have a community feedback (“CARM”) system if people have feedback and they can tell us that way. So I take the CARM books with me and explains the system to them. Sometimes when I meet the beneficiary, I look at what they need, take feedback from them, gives that info to the monitoring (“MEL”) officer, and explain that this area needs more assistance, give ideas for other activities they need.”

Rafaa Ali

Ibahim Kader, from Kobani and based in Kobani. He is the Senior Program Officer for Emergencies. “The hard thing is that sometimes when you’re working in a sensitive area or a newly liberated area, is how to get info about the people, or how to engage with them. We deal with the group leaders and offer our help- but sometimes they just want you to respond now but we want to hear from the beneficiaries of what they need and make sure those who need it get first priority. I like these challenges and so when groups are first liberated, they send me because when there are challenges with the community or camp management, they send me to sort it out because I like challenges and have good communication. At first it was hard but now it’s something he likes, to be more involved, like it’s worth it.”  

Like I did with everyone, I asked Ibrahim to tell me something about him personally, a hobby he has or what he does when he’s not working. He responded by telling me this: “I’m musician- I play a Kurdish instrument called the Bouzouki. When we fled from Kobani, I wasn’t working for Mercy Corps, I just went to Turkey and joined Mercy Corps there, and then after liberation I was sent back to Kobani to work. When I returned to my home, I saw on my house some graffiti, they’d burnt my house and my bouzouki- and accused me of being against religion because I’m a musician. When we had fled, my child was only 13 days old, what would we do? I happened to meet 3 international people in Turkey and they were asking for English speakers, and we had a conversation and they explained they are Mercy Corps and are looking for some people to work with them- so it really worked out.”

Ibrahim Kader

Syria Software Training

I know people think my job is so interesting and exciting- and sometimes it really is. This time I was literally helping a training about software. It’s necessary, it’s required, and everyone has to use it. We did our best to make the training fun, and for sure everyone agrees that the software is useful and is helping them to improve their programs. In order for them to get their programs on the software, they have to have the programs well organized and the project management and measurement systems well in order.  Which makes for better programming, no question. And we are long overdue to digitize all of our program metrics and data into an online system. But otherwise I’m not going to lie, to me parts of it are a bit like watching paint dry- “first you click here and do this, then you click here and do that….”  Forgive me if my own team reads this! The crazy thing is, no one complained a bit. In fact, they really got into it! IN FACT, the ones who were the most skeptical told us afterwards how excited they were about it, and admitted how much they were dreading the training.

We were in the kitchen of the guest house the evening of the 4th day of the training, after we’d wrapped the last session. Separately, over the course of the evening, two different team leaders came into the kitchen while Hanna and I, and a couple others, were sitting at the kitchen table eating and chatting.  We asked both Simon and Zahid what they thought of the training. Unprompted, both of them (a separate moments, mind you) gave us testimonials straight from a TV commercial about how great the software is, how great the training was, and how much they’d dreaded going and hadn’t wanted to be there, but had changed their minds completely during the training. I secretly slipped my cell phone out of my bag to record them, but botched it and they saw it, and so I asked them to repeat what they’d said so I could send their testimonial back to the team at HQ.  What I ended up with is one 6+ minute video of a guy named Simon, 3 beers in, hilariously rambling on about this software and the training, cracking himself up knowing he’s being filmed, and yet still giving us some good sound bites. Then later I got a 2 minute video of Zahid, the first minute of which was him being super embarassed and not being able to get his composure and Hanna trying to coax him into repeating his comments, all while I was rolling, and then the second minute of an almost perfect sound bit, albeit at a super wierd angle while trying to hide the camera so he’d forget about it. Ah the things we do to inspire agency change. I’m not sure yet what I’ll do with the videos beyond share them with our software developers and support team at home- I’m debating whether using them to convince the executive team to give us more funds would be effective….or backfire? :)

Zahid with a super serious look on his face, trying to stop laughing right before I started rolling the camera

Screen shot of Simon's video testimonial, where we ambushed him for his feedback when he popped into the kichen to get a beer from the fridge (while working in the evening, of course! These guys pretty much work around the clock)

The training venue itself was one of the worst I’ve ever worked in- and I’ve run meetings, workshops and trainings on pretty much every corner of the earth. This place was like a banquet hall kind of place and it was so dark and dingy and dirty I could barely get over it. The tables were greasy and dirty, there was no natural light in the faux wood paneled dimly lit room, the projector didn’t even work (we sent the driver back to the office to get one from the office the first day), and to give you an idea of the extend of grossness, they were using ashtrays (which frankly did not look clean) as the spoon rest for the coffee stirring spoon during breaks. Don’t ask me about the bathrooms. But the flip charts stuck on the walls, and there was enough space to move around in small groups, and for the most part, the internet held long enough for them to each get online and practice using the system.  The food was actually really good-  salads, kabobs and hummus every day- but they would serve all of us at one long table, family style, off to the side of where the meeting tables were, and then just leave all the uneaten food and dirty plates for the rest of the afternoon, and clear it after we finished the meeting for the day.  And you know what the most remarkable thing was? Not a soul in the group complained. In fact it was a couple days before even Hanna and I noted it to each other, not wanting to admit we had something to complain about (complaining is bad form in our line of work, until you get to a point that it’s something you can laugh about).  But whatever, we got the job done and even had a good time.

Hanna leading the training

The Guest House in NE Syria

There’s a reason that my CV doesn’t have the long section towards the bottom called “publications” because although I have written a million articles, blog posts, and reflection papers in my head, I rarely slow down long enough to get them on paper. True to form, I dove into our work in Syria and also continued to (try to) maintain the million teacups spinning that is my day job, the best I could. Good internet, which enabled me to at least try to keep up, didn’t help my cause in trying to find time to sit down and write more blog entries, reflecting on our experience in Syria. So let me try to catch you up, as I kill time on the airplane home.

Me out on a run. Thanks to Clare who joined me the last few days and kept me going! 

The guest house in Syria- or in most emergency operations- is a curious thing. I sometimes think I did my career a disservice by not taking a few emergency posts early on in my career and doing hardship gigs like this, because of what a pivitol experience it can be for people (both positive and negative, to be honest). Have you seen the movie Whiskey-Tango-Foxtrot? Great movie- work hard, play hard, mostly single expats in really crazy circumstances. Not that we saw any of that shenanigans on our trip. Instead my career trajectory came about with it’s own unique seredipity, starting with my own nicely furnished two-bedroom apartment in a good neigbhorhood of Dakar, working for an INGO doing development programs, far from any conflict or hardship.

In Derik, our organization has I think 3 guest houses total, but at the time we were there, most everyone was in the one we were staying in. This is where all the expatriates live- in security risk situations it enables us to manage security carefully by keeping everyone in one place, and many times there just aren’t a lot of housing options available. It’s also more cost effective. The guest house we stayed in was a large house, divided into several sections, as if it was built for a large, extended Syrian family each with their own living sections, and one big shared kitchen, one big living and dining room.  I think there were 6 bedrooms upstairs, divided into two sections, each with one shared bathroom, plus 3 more rooms downstairs beyond where the living room is, and a shared bathroom on that floor. 9 bedrooms total.

So first let’s point out, everyone’s not only working and living together 24-7, but they’re also sharing a bathroom. And it seems to be a bit random who ends up in which room, especially since they travel so much to other field offices- we have 5 offices (also with guest houses) in various locations around North East Syria that they travel around to for work, and plus they get R&R (rest and relaxation leave for hardship posts) every 12 weeks I think. When they are gone, they leave their rooms mostly packed up, so that it can be cleaned and turned over for other colleagues to use while in town.

The accomodations are pretty basic, but I have to admit after a few days it grew on me and seemed almost homey. There was electricity, including heater/air conditioners in each room, but it was pretty inconsistent, so each guest house has a massive generator that kicks on almost immediately when the power goes out and keeps everything running. The good news is that I learned the internet connection could bridge the power-generator transition somehow. The bad news is that it seemed like there was always a huge lawn mower in your ear. The bathrooms had hot water every day- this huge, old tank that just constantly made a steam-engine like noise and never, ever failed to deliver steaming hot water, thank goodness. That is NOT always a given in many emergency response guest houses.

My room for the week

Our shared bathroom (shower included!)

The beloved hot water heater!! 

In my case, I was in a section shared by 2 male staff, both of whom happened to be Pakistani, and since the bathroom was set up where the shower head was just sort of out there in a fully tiled room (which soaks every inch of the bathroom), I couldn’t really bring my clothes in with me, and had to super carefully peek out the door in my towel and race down the hall, praying neither of them came out while I booked it to my room. THAT would have been awkward! I think they really just learn to be respectful of each other in such close quarters. The head of the whole region, Barbara, is based in Derik and lives in that house too.  She’d get up early and stumble downstairs half awake to the kitchen every morning first thing and make herself coffee, and I ran into her a few times when I was up to go for a run. I kept thinking how I could not imagine my office mates seeing me every day right when I’d rolled out of bed still in my pyjamas. And Barbara is a tough cookie- a French woman who runs a tight ship, gets shit done and doesn’t mess around doing it (I super love her btw). Somehow you develop a new level of respect for your colleagues when you see them still rubbing sleep out of their eyes in the morning and then belting out orders at you later in the day.

These are the office generators- our house just had one of these. 

The guest house has a nice lady who cleans it every day, and makes sure rooms were turned over if new guests were coming in, almost like a bed and breakfast. When we arrived the first day, she’d saved us food from lunch, and after she gave us a tour of the house, insisted we sit and eat something.  They have a cook who makes a huge meal every lunchtime, and if staff don’t have time to come for lunch (it’s just a block or two from the office) they usually just heat up the meal for dinner. Everyone chips $20/week for meals, plus the cook stocks the house with staples, fruits, and other snacks. For breakfast and dinner otherwise, and on weekends, they’re own their own. One weekend night when we were there, a fun colleague named Carine, who was on a 6-month loan assignment from our Beiruit office, cooked this huge meal for all of us, and we had fun keeping her company in the kitchen then having a big group meal together. Another night, we all hung out in the big living room, half working/half telling stories and shooting the shit, and then ordered out a huge meal, family style, to share. There are a couple of restaurants in Derik, and they pretty much all serve the same food, and luckily they are very willing to prepare your food for take out if you’ll come and get it. One of the “perks” of the guest house is an on-call driver in the evening that they can use if they need to go shopping or somewhere, and they can also send him to go pick up take out. We won’t talk about the time they sent the driver out for a case of beer. :)

Guest house kitchen. 

Added these photos of the downstairs bathroom because I just thought the world should see the crazy snowman tile that COVERED the entire bathroom, floor to ceiling, inside and out. Random. 

I’ll end with a story of the kerosene heater in my room. It was cold and rainy when we were there, and got really damp and chilly at night. We were warned that the wall unit for heat/ac might easily overpower the electrical grid and kick the power out, so I figured i’d instead have them light this old fashioned kerosene heater that was in my bedroom, along with every other room. It was kind of quaint looking and seemed really warm. You really only needed it to heat the room before going to bed, and then the heavy blankets on the bed were probably fine. So I had the house security guard come up and light the heater for me the first night, then promptly jumped on a conference call. As the call started, I noticed there was no heat coming out of the heater, and so I “turned it up” a little, essentially turning a knob that released  a bit more kerosene into the internal fire burning. That seemed to do the trick- the fire flared a bit more and the room started to warm up. Except towards the end of the hour-long call, I noticed a loud dripping sound, and turned to look to see the pan on the bottom of the heater almost totally filled up with pure kerosene, about to spill over onto the carpet and horribly stinking up my room. It occured to me it was also a massive fire hazard. I flew down the stairs and yelled and waved to the Kurdish-speaking guard and also the driver who was hanging out with him, and they got the message to rush upstairs to my room. They turned off the heat and took care of emptying out the kerosene, though my room reeked for the rest of the weekend, even as I cracked the window and let the cold air in to let the smell out. They later told me that my heater was somehow broken, so after that I stuck to the electrical wall heater unit, and tried to keep it to a minimum.

That brown stuff around the bottom- yeah, pure kerosene that all spilled out.  The orange in the middle? Nice hot fire!! 

Crossing back from Syria to Iraq

There’s something about riding along in the car, staring across the countryside of the countries that I visit, which stirs a certain thread of wanderlust in me most every time. The drive from Derik to the border was picturesque, and the weather had suddenly turned, leaving bright sun rays shining down on bright green, rain soaked grasses and hillsides, dotted with yellow wildflowers and intermittent herds of sheep. The rugged, snow capped mountains finally revealed themselves in the clear blue skies. A number of fields we passed had been recently tilled, a clear sign of spring as the farmers get ready to start planting. I was reminded that Syria is most certainly not in the poorest of the poor category- clearly there was evidence of tractors and decent farm machinery for example- but instead this was a region choked by the multitude of knock on effects of a terrible conflict just in the nearby vicinity. 

The photos don't do the landscape justice....the mountains were beautiful as were the plains

quaint herds of sheep :)

I enjoyed the hour plus drive of just staring out the window- it’s so rare to be unplugged like that. My colleagues were casually chatting about data flows and distribution monitoring forms and infographics, and there was Arabic folk music playing on the radio. As we approached the river, we could see the flooding right away- a soccer field where we’d seen kids playing last Thursday was completely under water. When we finally rounded the corner and looked over the hill to the border crossing below, we could see the pontoon bridge attached and seemingly connected to both sides. So that was a good sign at least. Though as we got closer, we could also see just how fast the river was now flowing, and even splashing up over one part of the bridge, and we wondered if the border really would open or not. The evening before, we’d gotten word that it would be opened, so we all packed up to go. Hanna and I, plus 2 colleagues based in Derik headed out on personal leave, and one returning to the regional office in Amman. 

See the bridge? upper left side, across the river. Below, video of the fast moving river but I'm not sure if the video uploaded correctly.  

When we got to the border crossing offices, the drivers took our IDs and passports and started the paperwork process, which they always handle. Meanwhile, we gazed over at the bridge and made jokes about whether or not anyone could really get across. We saw the engineers (I think?) inspecting it, and then they ran a couple empty test buses across. It seemed fine, but there was a section just beyond the middle that was slightly submerged, water flowing over it that each bus had to sort of wade through. It just didn’t seem safe. We all noted we’d much prefer to walk over it but it was clear that the border guards were having none of that idea. Of course, our papers were processed pretty fast, we handed off our suitcases and the next thing we knew we were being loaded in the bus. A bunch of foreigners- the 5 of us plus a number of other aid workers from other organizations, plus some Iraqi families returning home. We were all joking about whether we could swim with the current to shore if the bus went over, but after morbidly discussing a few scenarios, it was time to go. The total bus ride across is maybe 3 minutes, and it was fine, totally fine. A bit harrowing, but fine! And there we had it, back in Iraq and headed back to Erbil, no big deal. 

On the bus, ready to cross- this is happening! yeah we were all a bit freaked out...luckily the whole thing takes about 3 minutes only

 The 4 hour or so drive back to Erbil was easy and went by fast, and we stopped mid-way for a bathroom break and a little lunch. We ate at a simple roadside restaurant with a fast food section, and had the most amazing chawarmas ever. Hanna got a piece of warm, handmade local bread with a light spice coating on it- so delicious. We are not starving in Kurdistan, that’s for sure!

 

MMmmmm fresh chawarmas! (not for Hanna, she's a vegetarian- too bad for her!)

Making fresh, awesome bread

Thankfully Hanna shared a taste of the awesome bread w/us

and after you eat, you must have tea! heating up the tea kettle with hot stones.

Stranded in Syria

Super hard to see but there is a mountain range surrounding the city of Derik. We've barely seen it because of the rain and clouds but here you get a bit of a peek. 

Yeah….so….technically we’re stranded in Syria right now. Remember my post about the border crossing and how sketchy it seemed, with the river so high it was almost overflowing the pontoon bridge attached by cables to large rocks on the shore? Apparently that bridge broke on Saturday. Our colleagues were the last to cross before they shut it down for poor structural integrity. Or perhaps it really broke during the storm that night- we don’t know the details. It’s been broken, and thus the border closed, since late Saturday until Wednesday.  Which is not a big deal to us since we aren’t trying to leave- we have another day of training today and are scheduled to depart tomorrow to go back to Erbil. But it is a tiny bit eerie knowing that if we wanted to get out of Syria right now, we actually can’t. The Fish-Khabur crossing is the only one that we have permission to cross at, and our organization works with a very careful relationship with the local authorities. However, if there were a real emergency (and believe me, we’ve been through the scenarios because my Scottish colleague here with us is 5 months pregnant!), there are 2 other river borders down stream we could perhaps get special permission to cross at.  We also have an understanding in case of emergency with coalition forces- I’m not exactly sure how that works but I have visions of strapping young Frenchmen with fancy helicopters airlifting us to a posh military base in Iraq somewhere. Yeah right. We’re just here hanging out for as long as we need to, as there’s certainly no emergency here. Lucky for us, there’s a fresh bottle of Laphroaig.

It has, however, raised some issues about contingency planning for us, since we’re headed to Iraq to do the same training there, starting Monday. So we put into motion a call our to our team of, “Hey who wants to jump on a plane on Friday or Saturday and come to Iraq to do a training?”   Amazingly, we had several volunteers right away. I have the best team. The wicked high price tag for the flight quotes they got did make us thankful that for now it’s just a contingency plan until we know more. This border crossing is such a lifeline for commodity movement for the region, plus the 20+ INGOs working in the area (I think I heard that stat the other day) and all the people who are now 4+ days backed up and waiting on both sides. So we are pretty confident that they’ll get it open, at least by the weekend. We have three expat colleagues who live here who are going on leave and have flights Thursday night, but for Hanna and I, we just have to get to Erbil by Saturday when our other colleague LJ arrives (who will be co-training Iraq), or even Sunday would be fine. It has poured non-stop for days and days, pretty much since we arrived, and yesterday it was even hailing. It’s also been cold and damp. We’ve had several thunderstorms and really just hours and hours of high volume, pounding rain. Last night however, the rain stopped and the sun came out! So we’re hopeful. (of course today there was another thunderstorm so who knows). Everyone who lives here- Syrians and expats- keep raving about how gorgeous it is in the spring here, and it seems we’ll miss it by just about a week or two, when the expect the weather to start to turn around.

Saturday Morning Run in NE Syria

Since planning this trip, I must have asked a half a dozen or more official people whether it was okay to go running in Syria and Iraq. Everyone keeps telling me yes, although I just didn’t believe it for a long time. There are no land mines, UXOs (unexploded ordinances), or anything sketchy in this area even, and no cases of or history of any issues of crime, abduction, anything. Even the street dogs are pretty tame- another common hazard of running in developing-ish countries. (let’s talk about this idea of “second tier” or developing-ish countries later…)  I’ve had the same perceptions that many of you have had of this region, that it’s just one big conflict zone. I think that’s why I’m writing about it. I even asked the Syrian guard for the house as I was headed out in my running gear the first morning I set out- “It’s okay? Go for a run?” as I pointed to the road that leads out of town. “Good! Good! Sport! Okay!” he replied.

The first morning I was here, I did a short 3.5 mile run just down the road that leads out of town, right near the guest house. A quick, but muddy, out and back.  Today however, I was due for a 9 mile run, according to the half marathon training program that I’m following back home. I couldn’t use that same route as yesterday, because even 2 miles gets you to the next town and just beyond that is the Turkish border, which we are not allowed to cross nor really go near. We don’t have authorization to do programming in Turkey and there’s a lot of sensitivity around it as the Turks are not big fans of the Kurds in general. So, I needed to run through the city to get to another road to lead me on a longer route North and a bit East of the city, to get the mileage in. The folks here told me about a great app called maps.me which allows you to download offline maps and drop a pin and still use it easily without heavy signal, and they were right- it showed extreme detail of all the small town roads and paths and worked well offline.

For the first mile or so, I had to keep stopping to check where I was going through the neighborhoods, to connect to the main road that would take me out of town.The town is like any small town really- houses and neighborhood streets which lead to a more commercial area with some shops and restaurants, and sort of a town square- well, roundabout in this case.  Once I got to the main road I was searching for, it was just me and Sam Sanders (I’m a big fan of “It’s been a Minute with Sam Sanders” podcast) and a long country road ahead of me. I was lucky to have a break in the rain, just overcast skies and pretty moderate temperatures- it was in the low 50’sF, which was a big change from the complete downpour of the day before, that started pretty much after my run yesterday and went on all day and all night. I even rolled over at 3am to pounding rain, and assumed there would be no running for me today. But alas, it was clear when I woke in the morning, and wouldn’t you know it, 15 minutes after I got back the sky opened up to hard, cold, pouring rain again. I was lucky!

And then, I just ran out until I hit 4, turned around, and retraced my steps. I decided on only doing 8 miles, since I hadn’t run too much this week and I was not patient enough to keep getting my phone out to watch MapMyRun click over to the half mile marker- it tells me in my headphones at the full mile marker. The countryside was green rolling hills and a river I crossed via the road. I passed a number of herds of sheep and sheep herders, plus a couple mules here and there, and some street dogs, including a litter of puppies, and a few kids just hanging out. Stray dog puppies on the side of the road are so cute and kind of sad (they are always around trash heaps) but Bentley already got the lucky ticket in that regard so I think I’m good for now on the dog front, not to mention the neverending foster called Lola. :) These dogs here are overall much healthier than stray dogs in Africa, for example, so although it's sad, I think they'll be okay.

I passed what looked like a decommissioned or winding down UNHCR refugee camp, and a small town, but that’s about it. People smiled at me on the road, but it wasn’t too crowded or too eventful. I think the most remarkable thing about the run was the fact that I kept saying to myself, “Holy shit, I’m doing a long run in the middle of Syria.”

Signs of new construction everywhere- a good thing

Decommissioned (I think) refugee camp- as this area recieved a lot of people from the conflict areas

 
                                       

Herds of sheep everywhere!