Saturday, November 13, 2004

the Iraqi scene at the moment

I returned from Basrah Wednesday and was greeted by hooded men in a Kia minibus firing their AK-47's in the air close to the entrance of our street. The troubled taxi driver dropped me off with my suitcase and drove away to safety. The Kia went by and then into a sidestreet where they seemed to have found a target since frantic shooting followed. Not a living soul was on the street except yours truly and I froze for a few seconds uncertain on which way to head. A close 'whizzzzzz' followed by a loud metallic clang behind me got me moving, so I scurried to my destination keeping as close as possible to the walls while I was reflecting on a friend's description of what it felt like to have a bullet tear through his loin. It was definitely not a fun experience but I luckily made it home. I have been scared stiff to put my nose out of the door since. This is the fourth occasion in which I get myself caught in the middle of a shootout and something tells me I won't be as lucky next time if we follow probability laws.


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