Dipnote - U.S. Department of State Official Blog http://blogs.state.gov/index.php/site/index/ en U.S. Department of State 2009-11-20T23:01:01+00:00 Talking the Walk Once Again: Sharing Diplomacy With My Hometown About the Author: Aaron Snipe is a Foreign Service Officer at the U.S. Department of State. He recently participated in the Hometown Diplomat Program.

Explaining our foreign policy to audiences abroad is one of the many tasks faced by U.S. diplomats serving overseas. During my previous assignment on a Provincial Reconstruction Team (PRT) in Iraq, my colleagues and I often explained to the good people of Muthanna Province how the State Department partners with Iraqis to build greater stability and prosperity.

Now that I am home from Iraq, I recently had an opportunity to participate in one of the State Department's lesser known but important public outreach initiatives: the Hometown Diplomat Program. Each year, the program asks recently returned Foreign Service Officers to volunteer their time to explain the work of diplomacy abroad with hometown audiences. While an understanding of the Department’s work abroad is ubiquitous in places like Washington, this is not necessarily the case across America. Members of the State Department's diplomatic corps hail from every corner of the U.S. (all fifty states, in fact), and through the years, diplomats from across America have returned home to talk to universities, high schools, and civic organizations about the work of the State Department. For me, combining a little of mom's home cooking (nothing in the base chow-hall in Iraq compares to my mother's famous spaghetti sauce) with a dash of diplomacy was the perfect recipe for some old fashioned outreach in Red Sox country.

Last week, I had the honor of returning to Arlington High School - my alma mater - in Arlington, Massachusetts, to spend the day with some of the school's best and brightest students. The kids were engaging, knowledgeable, and eager to learn more about the work of diplomats abroad. Strolling down the very same halls I walked almost 20 years ago, I was cornered by a student who heard a diplomat was coming to speak.

A bit hesitant at first, he said, "I'm Frank. You're from the State Department, right?"

"Yes," I responded.

He then told me that he was really interested in a career with the Foreign Service. A high school kid? Interested in becoming a diplomat someday? Wow. At his age, I think my greatest interests were being on time for Mr. Obelsky’s history class and never missing lunch. Frank's curiosity really inspired me. It made me proud that the kids from my alma mater were already thinking globally. While it might be too early to call it, I think I met a few future diplomats at Arlington High last week. World peace, here they come!

But, I suppose we should let them finish their book reports due next week first.]]> http://blogs.state.gov/index.php/entires/hometown_diplomat_snipe/ 2009-09-29T22:23:20+00:00 Reflecting on My Time in Iraq About the Author: Aaron Snipe is a Foreign Service Officer who recently completed his assignment with the Provincial Reconstruction Team in Muthanna, Iraq.

It’s tough to sum up a year in Iraq in one final post. The best summary of my time in Iraq actually lies in the telling of the tale. With more and more diplomats serving on Provincial Reconstruction Teams (PRTs) in Iraq and Afghanistan, my experience is not uncommon. Yet, I can’t help but feel there were, indeed, many unique aspects of my time in Muthanna. Unique because in the human terrain of our sleepy little province in the South, our team broke new ground with Iraqis.

As I cleaned out my desk on my last day in Muthanna, my colleague and friend Albert Hadi and I stood in the middle of our office gazing at the wall of photos, flyers, and articles our PRT had generated over the year — evidence of many of our public diplomacy efforts. As we reflected on the year’s accomplishments, Albert said, “You know, we win the minds of Iraqis by building things like schools, bridges, and roads, but we win their hearts by building relationships and giving them respect. We won hearts here this year.”

He was quite right.

This year we had, indeed, won hearts in Muthanna by leading with respect and engaging Iraqis as equals. We earned the admiration of our Iraqi colleagues by demonstrating a respect for their history, religion, culture, and sovereignty. At a time when Iraqis are yearning for a more normal relationship with the United States, I believe our civilian-lead engagement and assistance were critical components to building sustainable bridges, both figuratively and literally, between our two nations. Reflecting back on the year, I can’t help but feel optimistic.

With all that I’ve observed and shared this year, there were also many, many stories I was not able to blog about because Iraq is a still a land in conflict. There were Iraqis whose pictures I wanted to post — perfect images that needed little to no accompanying text — and prose I wished to write but would have put Iraqi lives — friends’ lives — in jeopardy. While I could not tell their stories on the pages of this blog, I’ve carried them back with me, and there is no doubt they made me a better diplomat and, dare I say, a better human being.

So, with Iraq physically behind me (but still very much with me intellectually and emotionally), I would be remiss in ending this blog if I didn’t extend my thanks to you — the reader. Writing about my experiences has helped me process the tumult and tempest of this year in a way that allowed me to keep my family and friends informed and to tell stories of Iraq most folks never hear. Thanks for reading my blog entries and sharing them with others.

Read more about Aaron Snipe's work with the Provincial Reconstruction Team in Muthanna, Iraq.]]> http://blogs.state.gov/index.php/entires/reflecting_iraq/ 2009-09-02T22:18:55+00:00 Listening To Learn the Language About the Author: Aaron Snipe is a Foreign Service Officer with the Provincial Reconstruction Team (PRT) in Muthanna, Iraq.

Transiting back to Iraq from my final R&R in the United States, I settled in for my last eleven-hour flight to Kuwait. As I decided upon which book and magazines I would read during the long journey, a cacophonous family of countless children came pouring onto the plane. With an empty seat to my right and left, I braced for the worst. I quickly reached deep into my backpack to retrieve the tactical earplugs that had served me well during many flights aboard Black Hawk helicopters high over the deserts of Iraq. I feared even the earplugs’ ballistic technology would fail to protect my tender ears from the onslaught of these rascals.

As their exhausted mother directed them to their seats, I wondered which child would become the bane of my existence for the next 11 hours. While I pondered this question, a young boy quietly sat down next to me. He must have been around eight or nine years old, and as he settled into his seat, he quietly and carefully surveyed his surroundings. He was dressed smartly in a black suit his mother had no doubt made him wear. With an oddly-colored clip-on tie and matching pocket-square peeking out of from the breast pocket of a blazer that didn’t quite fit him, he was inarguably an adorable sight to see.

From listening to his mother try to corral his siblings, I knew the young boy was Arab, and I looked forward to a little light banter with my young traveling companion. I quickly learned the boy’s name was Ali and broke the ice with a friendly question.

“How are you?” I asked in Modern Standard Arabic, unsure which part of the Middle East or North Africa he hailed from.

“Zain,” he responded.

His one-word response immediately put a grin on my face. It was the Iraqi dialect word for “fine.” The word is also used in other parts of the Gulf, so I asked where he was from.

“Iraq,” he said.

How fortuitous, I thought.

“Are you Arab?” he asked.

“No, I’m American,” I responded in Arabic.

He seemed a bit confused by this, and after a few minutes, the game was up. The moment I made my first inexcusable grammatical mistake (no doubt using a verb form that referred to him as a her), the boy’s brow furrowed, and he paused for a moment.

“Hmmmm. Let’s speak in English now. Your Arabic isn't very good. I speak English, you know . . .”

Ouch.

I wanted to ask Ali all the political wonk questions I always ask Iraqis, but recognizing he was not yet 10 years old, I felt it wisest just to help him plug in his headphones and find the cartoon channel on the seat-back television in front of him.

At the end of the flight, I bid Ali farewell and watched him rejoin his noisier siblings a few rows ahead. As I gathered my own belongings, I relished the few words we exchanged together. It made me think back to my numerous school visits in Muthanna, and the many inquisitive children, eager to engage in conversation, I have met on the streets of Samawa and Rumaytha.

Speaking to Ali -- in Arabic -- reminded me of two important things: first, I should clearly study more. And, second, learning another language opens new doors of dialogue that bridge the divide between cultures. The little Arabic I brought with me to Iraq this year has been one of the most important items on my packing list. My understanding and use of the language during my year may not have had a major impact on the trajectory of our policy, but in many smaller ways it was one of my most important tools for breaking the ice, demonstrating respect, and affirming my interest in Iraq and Iraqis.

In the years to come, no matter where I am in the Arab world, when someone asks me how I am, I will always look forward to responding, as my seat-mate Ali did, “Zain.”

Read more about Aaron Snipe's work with the Provincial Reconstruction Team in Muthanna, Iraq.]]> http://blogs.state.gov/index.php/entires/listening_language/ 2009-07-10T22:48:23+00:00 Talking the Walk: Explaining the Provincial Reconstruction Team Mission About the Author: Aaron Snipe is a Foreign Service Officer with the Provincial Reconstruction Team (PRT) in Muthanna, Iraq.

If you've read my previous DipNote posts, you know that diplomats and development professionals are making a real difference in rural Iraq. Our work with our Iraqi counterparts in the Department of Veterinary Affairs is helping revive Muthanna's agricultural sector. This is certainly important work, but as a the PRT's public diplomacy officer, it's my job to ensure that Iraqis know about the work we are doing out in the field.

Driving through even the most rural areas of Muthanna it is common to see houses made of mud . . . with brand new satellite dishes on the thatched roofs. Rural Iraqis, like millions of others around the developing world, want to be connected to the rest of the world, and satellite TV is helping make this connection. Satellite networks across the Middle East, like Al Jazeera, Al Arabiya, and LBC out of Beirut, are the news sources many in the Arab world turn to. Here in Iraq, many Iraqis look to these satellite stations and their own state-owned network, Al Iraqiya. Not long ago, my Deputy Team Leader and I were invited to give an hour-long interview on the local Al-Iraqiya affiliate, Muthanna TV. The program called "Al Hadath" ("The Event") is a nightly broadcast and helps Muthanna's residents learn about what is happening in and around the province. The interviewer was gracious and genuinely interested in asking us about the work of the PRT. It gave us an opportunity to share highlights of what we've been up to and also stress the cooperative nature of the U.S. role in Iraq. I was particularly pleased to talk about the PRT's partnership with municipal officials in providing 500 tons of alum (aluminum sulfate) to help improve the quality of drinking water for hundreds of thousands of Muthanna's residents.

While it's important to blog about our accomplishments, I'm pretty sure most of Muthanna's farmers and rural residents aren't reading DipNote. Having U.S. diplomats take the air waves to explain our policy is one of the best ways to get the message out.

Read more entries about Aaron Snipe's experiences serving with the Provincial Reconstruction Team in Muthanna, Iraq.]]> http://blogs.state.gov/index.php/entires/explaining_prt_mission/ 2009-05-22T21:26:42+00:00 Working With Iraqi Farmers Reminds Me Why I Serve About the Author: Aaron Snipe is a Foreign Service Officer with the Provincial Reconstruction Team (PRT) in Muthanna, Iraq.

Sometimes I find myself muttering five little words: I hate being in Iraq.

The problem with this statement is that it’s actually not true.  I don’t hate being in Iraq.  Working in the fast-paced, high-stress environment of a PRT is always a challenge.  The seven-day work week can be difficult to manage.  But, when I step back from the stress and look at what we are doing, I actually quite like Iraq.  I love talking to Iraqis about their country.  I like the intellectual challenges inherent in Iraq.  I enjoy hearing what Iraqis have to say about things I think I’ve figured out – and I love it when Iraqis tell me I’m wrong.  Though, I have to say, I love it even more when Iraqis tell me I’m wrong, and then I prove to them I am right.  But most of all, I don’t hate being in Iraq, because I can call my colleagues – both American and Iraqi – friends.

I was reminded of why I like being in Iraq during a visit to a veterinary research center where we are assisting Iraqi farmers with new techniques in animal husbandry.  As I wrote in a previous blog entry, Muthanna is an agrarian society at heart, and some of our most meaningful efforts here are focused in this sector. 

The PRT is working with the Director General of Veterinary Services to help farmers replenish their fleeting livestock numbers.  The PRT has purchased liquid nitrogen machines that will make it possible for the Iraqis to implement a province-wide bovine artificial insemination (BAI) program.  Decades of neglect under Saddam Hussein, years of war, and other economic factors forced many of Muthanna’s farmers to slaughter their livestock for food to feed their families, instead of keeping the cattle to produce dairy products.  The dwindling numbers of breeding bulls have created an agricultural crisis for provincial farmers.  With a vibrant Iraqi-led (and PRT-supported) BAI program in place, the numbers of livestock will certainly increase.  This assistance is taking place at the grassroots level, and agricultural officials and farmers can attest to the positive impact it will have on the province.

My visit to the veterinary research center also reminded me of one of my fondest, childhood memories. For many years as a kid, I attended summer camp in Pennsylvania.  On a Saturday morning, many summers ago – it must have been when I was about fifteen-years-old – the camp director asked if I would help him fetch hay for the horses.

We drove a truck a few miles away from camp to a large field.  Seated in neat rows, evenly placed across the field’s wide expanse, were countless bales of hay.  My job: to toss the heavy bales of hay into the truck bed.  We drove up and down the lanes of hay for hours.  When we finished, I looked up to see the hay stacked five, six, maybe even seven, tiers high.  That day was the first time I can recall working hard and loving it.  Riding back to camp atop a mountain of hay, baked in the summer heat, drenched in sweat and smelling like the farm, I felt like a king sitting on a throne.  It was just a truckload of hay, and I was just a kid, but it was a day I’ll never forget.

At age fifteen, I’m sure I’d never even heard of Iraq.  Twenty years later, though, I feel a similar pride in the work I am doing here.

Read more entries about Aaron Snipe’s experiences serving with the Provincial Reconstruction Team in Muthanna, Iraq.

]]> http://blogs.state.gov/index.php/entires/working_with_iraqi_farmers/ 2009-05-20T22:45:42+00:00 City Slicker Learns To “Dip” Sheep in Iraq About the Author: Aaron Snipe is as a Foreign Service Officer with the Provincial Reconstruction Team (PRT) in Iraq.

Seven years ago, I was working in the financial services industry in New York City. I had recently taken the Foreign Service exam and was pretty pessimistic about my chances of passing. I didn’t like my job very much, but I loved my office. It was in the old Metropolitan Life Insurance Company Clock Tower building at Madison and 23rd. And I loved living in Park Slope. If you had told me back then that, in a few short years, I would be working in rural Iraq, helping farmers vaccinate and "dip" their sheep, I would have found the assertion preposterous.

As fate would have it, I am here in Iraq, dipping sheep, and having a good time doing it.

Muthanna, the southern Iraqi province in which I work, is rural. Muthanna doesn't have many natural resources, and it doesn't have an abundance of water, though the Euphrates River does wind its way through our humble province. What it does have are lots of livestock. This is a province of farmers. Far away from Baghdad, the bigger questions of the Middle East don't really resonate here. While we are assisting the Iraqis here in all sectors, I suspect the greatest impact we will have in Muthanna is on its agricultural sector.

Late last year, I visited a site in rural Khider where veterinary representatives from the provincial government brought medicines for the animals. Joining me on the visit was Dr. Indu Ram, the PRT's Senior Agricultural Advisor and a native of Lucknow, India. The PRT's main contact with the provincial government on agricultural and veterinary issues, Indu has worked tirelessly on agricultural matters in the province and has developed a strong relationship with the Director General of Veterinary Services. Previous veterinary inoculations sponsored by the PRT had been in partnership with the United States Military, but this event was different. While we always enjoy cooperating with the military, Humvees and MRAPs would have changed the atmosphere of this engagement. With Muthanna’s Director General of Veterinary Services and PRT civilians leading the way, Iraqi farmers got to see something we wish more Iraqis would see: Iraqi officials cooperating with civilian representatives of the United States to respond directly to the needs of the people.

During this round of treatment, veterinarians injected livestock with vaccines for common seasonal diseases and administered oral treatments to the animals for internal parasites. A little later in the day we watched sheep being dipped to help prevent against external parasites. Indu's "hands on" approach to the work prompted him to get into the action by helping an unsuspecting sheep into the dip.

Under ideal conditions, sheep would normally receive vaccinations twice a year, but for the farmers of Khider – until now – their livestock had not received vaccinations in over three years. The vaccination partnership between the government and PRT is expected to decrease the sheep mortality rate by 80%.

As the visit came to a close everyone was happy. In this forgotten corner of Iraq, where Muthanna's farmers struggle with so many challenges, the PRT's support of provincial efforts paid large dividends. Before we left, the farmers made one very important demand on the PRT: stay for lunch. "We will slaughter a sheep in your honor! Please stay and eat with us." With other pressing business in the province on that day, we were unable to stay and break bread with our new friends. But, as the Acting Team Leader (my boss was out of town), I promised to return for another vaccination event, and I fully intended to take the farmers up on lunch. Stay tuned for more boiled sheep!

Read more entries about Aaron Snipe's experiences serving with the Provincial Reconstruction Team in Muthanna, Iraq.]]> http://blogs.state.gov/index.php/entires/sheep_iraq/ 2009-05-08T15:13:42+00:00 Front Lines to Main Streets in Iraq About the Author: Aaron Snipe is a Foreign Service Officer with the Provincial Reconstruction Team (PRT) in Muthanna, Iraq.

I’ve had my share of sleepless nights since I came to Iraq, but my insomnia these days has more to do with the big-picture questions facing this land, than the heat, IEDs, or rocket attacks. Late one night not long ago, I finished reading a fascinating new book about Iraq. At the end of the book, the author published a copy of an unclassified U.S. Army memo dated June 21, 2008. The document, entitled “Multi-National Force-Iraq Commander’s Counterinsurgency Guidance,” included a bullet point that got me thinking. The directive was aimed at U.S. soldiers serving in Iraq. It was simple in its logic and direct in its wording. Though I was not the intended audience, it spoke loudly to me as an American diplomat. The missive read as follows:

"Walk: Move mounted, work dismounted. Stop by, don’t drive by. Patrol on foot and engage the population. Situational awareness can only be gained by interacting with the people face-to-face, not separated by ballistic glass."

The memo made me think about how diplomats travel in Iraq. I’ve been all over my province and shaken hands with thousands of Iraqis, but due to security concerns I haven't actually spent a great deal of time just sitting still in the real Iraq. Most days, the lens through which I view Iraq is the glass of an armored vehicle traveling at high speeds. Ballistic glass may protect me, but it is thick, tinted and invariably distorts my view of the outside world. Not exactly the best way to get a clear picture of things, literally or figuratively.

Recently, something I had long hoped for came to fruition. I got out from behind that ballistic glass and saw a side of the real Iraq, up close. A local mayor invited my boss and me on a walk-about through his fair city. With the appropriate level of security, we set out to visit the Land Records Office, the local bank, and many street vendors along the way.

How wonderful it was to be in Iraq that day. The sites and sounds of street life in Iraq were the sounds of any city, anywhere in the world: cars honking, motorbikes weaving through traffic, taxi drivers yelling. But it was the smells that let me know I was really in Iraq. As we walked down the street, I inhaled deeply: sharwma roasting on a spit, tea boiling in a street-side cauldron, fruits and vegetables ripening in the afternoon sun. Even the smell of sewage from the drain, though unpleasant, was remotely comforting. I was really here. Finally.

When we reached the restaurant, I immediately felt the heat from the brick oven. Skewers of kebabs roasted above the fire. A school-aged boy sliced tomatoes and onions. Religious iconography adorned the walls. With the bustling city life just beyond the restaurant's open windows, we were in Iraq. The real Iraq. I don't know if the food was the best meal I'd ever had, but it certainly ranked among the best overall dining experiences I've had in quite awhile. The kebabs were delicious, the grilled tomatoes delectable, and the bread was fresh out of the oven.

Many of the cultural differences that divide people from different backgrounds can be undone when they break bread together. There are those in Iraq who don’t want to bridge that divide. During my eight months here, I have encountered a few who have refused to “unclench their fist” as I extended an “open hand.” But, that is to be expected. The majority of Iraqis I’ve met do want a better relationship with America and Americans, and all of the respect I’ve given Iraqis has been reciprocated ten-fold.

My walk through the market and my lunch at a street-side restaurant, similar to most of my experiences here, are not stories that will make headlines or news of any kind back home. But they should. In this seldom talked about part of Iraq, front lines are turning into main streets. I’m proud to be serving on the main streets of Iraq.

Read more about Aaron Snipe's work with the Provincial Reconstruction Team in Muthanna, Iraq.]]> http://blogs.state.gov/index.php/entires/front_lines_main_streets/ 2009-05-06T18:39:42+00:00 Muthanna Art Exhibit Takes Risk, Earns Respect About the Author: Aaron Snipe is a Foreign Service Officer with the Provincial Reconstruction Team (PRT) in Muthanna, Iraq.

A few weeks ago I posted a blog entry entitled, “The Colors of Warka,” in which I chronicled the United States Ambassador’s trip to Muthanna. During that visit the Ambassador attended the first-ever exhibition for women artists in Muthanna. I wrote a bit about the artists in that blog but wanted to share an update.

In late 2008, when we learned that the U.S. Ambassador to Iraq was coming to Muthanna, we assembled a group of women artists from the province interested in working with the PRT on a cultural program. We asked them to contribute their paintings for a special gallery showing in honor of the Ambassador’s visit. We put it together in a few weeks, and the event was splendid. But, there was much more to the event than just a special showing for the Ambassador. The PRT, in cooperation with a local Iraqi NGO, wanted to support art in Muthanna and planned to hold a major exhibit of close to 100 paintings – all by the women of the province. Each of the participating women received canvases, paints and an easel. We gave the forty women a month to paint, after which time, the exhibit would open in three of Muthanna’s largest cities: Samawa, Rumaytha, and Khider.

After months of planning and preparation, the exhibit opened during March in Muthanna’s capital city, Samawa. It was well attended...or so I was told. Much to my disappointment, I missed the opening, but one of our local Iraqi staff who was able to attend reported that the event was a success. Eight media organizations (print and television) covered the event and a broad cross-section of Muthanna’s citizens came out to see this landmark exhibit.

Back at base, I was eager to get to the exhibit. After a bit of negotiation to arrange transportation, my colleague Albert Hadi and I found our way to Samawa for the second day of the exhibit. The NGO that co-sponsored the event did a terrific job decorating the exhibit hall and lighting the room. Many of the artists were at the exhibit again on the second day, and it was great to see them. What struck me, though, was how many other people were present. A college art professor had brought his forty male students to see the exhibit. Writers, poets, and other members of the artistic community were viewing the paintings and chatting with one another. At one point, I looked over and saw the Director General of Veterinary Affairs, whom I remembered from a PRT-sponsored sheep-dipping event some months ago (that is another story for another day). He told me he saw the exhibit on the news last night and decided to come to see it himself. The atmosphere was so relaxed and reminded me of any number of art museums I had been to in other parts of the world. Patrons, both men and women, were leaning in to look at the artists’ signatures, men sometimes disagreeing on the meaning and significance of this painting or that painting. For a moment, I forgot I was in Iraq.

For me, the exhibit was an example of public diplomacy. The fact that the United States was supporting art — its creation and exhibition — in Muthanna was a signal to the Iraqi people that the relationship between our two countries was normalizing. I was pleased to see that the artists had not shied away from portraying the difficulties facing Iraq. When we distributed the supplies a few months ago, I informed the women that they should feel free to paint whatever they liked. I made a special point of letting them know that I had no expectation that they should create art that was flattering to the United States. If there were negative feelings about the U.S. that these women wanted to express through their art, we supported that whole-heartedly. Negative feelings about the U.S. presence in Iraq expressed on a canvas were far more palatable to this diplomat than many of the alternatives.

My colleague Albert and I spent a great deal of time talking with all of the artists. What meant the most to me was the fact that many of the women had brought their families to meet us. This was a significant detail that couldn’t be ignored. Married or single, it is considered highly inappropriate for a young Iraqi woman to speak about meeting and talking with an unmarried man. But, through our meetings and planning, we had established a foundation of mutual respect with these women. This respect had begun to break down and dispel the obvious cultural prohibitions. I had never shaken hands with any of these women, and we always kept a respectable distance from one another as we spoke, but there was a genuine respect and admiration that we all shared. One woman asked for my e-mail address. She told me that her brother wanted to write me a letter to thank me. He wanted to write “to the American who respected his sister.” Respect.

One final thought on the exhibit before I conclude. The stories of these women shared one common thread: they were all taking risks by participating in this event. One of the women (not pictured above or in any photos related to this blog entry) told me a story that summed up the great risk involved in attempting to pull off the exhibit. She told us that she had watched the other women giving media interviews at the opening and wanted desperately to do so herself. Summoning up the courage to do so, she approached a reporter from a Muthanna-based television station. “I would like to be interviewed,” she said. She told us that she stood before the camera and spoke of her art, what art meant to her, and how she felt she had expressed her voice, publicly, for the first time in her life. She said she felt a sense of triumph after the interview, but that soon after a sense of dread overtook her. Her husband would certainly beat her that evening. “It was worth it,” she told us. “To have spoken to so many, to have said what I said before the people, it would be worth the punishment.” She described the long ride home, dreading the beating, but confident in her decision to speak out. When she arrived home, her husband was waiting at the door with his cell phone, in hand. "Did you see yourself?” he said. “You looked great! Mash'allah! You were on television! My wife was on television! I called my family and everyone I know. Look at you! You've made our family famous! This is wonderful!" She told us that when she walked in, her children embraced her and her husband told her that he was so very proud of her. She told us that later that evening - after her husband had finished calling everyone he knew - that he told her, "I never looked at you as an artist, only as the woman who cleans the house and raises the children. But, today, I am so proud of you."

I needed tissues more than my Kevlar vest and helmet that day, and any day that happens in Iraq is a good day.

Read Aaron's previous entry about the Ambassador's visit to Muthanna or read more about and view several of the paintings featured in the exhibit.]]> http://blogs.state.gov/index.php/entires/muthanna_art_exhibit/ 2009-04-28T13:02:58+00:00 Sound Merchants Share Jazz With Iraqis About the Author: Aaron Snipe is a Foreign Service Officer with the Provincial Reconstruction Team in Muthanna, Iraq.

In the late 1950s, the United States sent American jazz musicians—including Louis Armstrong and Duke Ellington—to foreign countries far and wide as part of a cultural outreach initiative.  Last year, the New York Times highlighted a then-new photography exhibit that chronicled this little-known cultural gem of the State Department.  Back then, the objective of this program was to counter the influence of the Soviet Union.

Today, American jazz musicians and other American artists and speakers participate in cultural programs to share a part of America through their chosen art form.  Today’s programs are designed to broaden the understanding among foreign audiences about who we are as Americans.  Is there a “countering extremism” component to these programs?  Yes, but they are more about sharing the rich tapestry of America through art and culture.  Jazz is a truly American art form, and I can’t think of a better way to introduce the citizens of the world to it than by bringing the music directly to their doorsteps.

When Embassy Baghdad approached Provincial Reconstruction Team public diplomacy officers with the idea of bringing an American jazz band—Alvin Atkinson and the Sound Merchants—out to the provinces, I jumped at the chance to have them come to Muthanna.  The band, it turns out, was inaugurating a special initiative of the Department’s Bureau of Educational and Cultural Affairs (ECA) called “Musical Overtures” which was created to promote mutual understanding and to strengthen America’s ties with nations involved in or recovering from conflict, or facing other challenges.  Their full tour, starting in Armenia, included Afghanistan, Iraq, and Lebanon.

When I heard that the Sound Merchants might come to Muthanna, I envisioned a quartet of cool cats on stage with young Iraqi musicians jamming together with lute and sax, making great music.  I reached out to some of my artist contacts in Muthanna, and we put together a musical program for both groups to play.  Alas, this musical union was not meant to be, as a transportation mix-up in Baghdad caused the Sound Merchants to miss their ride to Muthanna.  Luckily for Dhi Qar Province (adjacent to Muthanna), the group was able to catch another flight a few days later and performed at the Great Ziggurat of Ur.

Personally, I was very disappointed that the transportation snafu turned my vision of jazz in Muthanna into “a dream deferred,” but my boss and I made the best of it.  We went to the concert, sans jazz, in Muthanna and listened to great traditional Iraqi music.  There were songs dedicated to the sweet dates of Muthanna and melodies that told tales of the winding Euphrates.  There were a number of television stations covering the event.  Never missing an opportunity to spread the message, I gave more than a few interviews that day.  I told the press that cultural exchanges between the United States and Iraq were clear indicators that the relationship between our two countries was changing, becoming more normal.  The media opportunity gave me a chance to make another point.  I told a number of journalists that I very much wanted for the American jazz musicians to come to Muthanna to see a side of Iraq not reported in the mainstream Western media.  The residents of Muthanna were ambassadors themselves, I explained, and it would be my great pleasure to introduce these American musical ambassadors to the many friends I’ve made during my year in Muthanna.

A few days later, at the base of the Ziggurat, jazz finally made it to southern Iraq.  The PRT for Dhi Qar Province organized a concert for the Sound Merchants and a popular Iraqi singer.  That evening, the temperature was perfect, the skies were clear, and it was fun to see the Iraqis enjoying the music.

The Sound Merchants played two more shows in Iraq, one in Baghdad and the other in the northern city of Kirkuk.  Friends who attended both performances said the audience participation was great.  The musicians made connections here in Iraq and shared a slice of American culture that many Iraqis were experiencing for the first time.  For the jazz musicians, these trips are an opportunity to share music and culture, as well as their views with foreign audiences.  Citizen ambassadors are not required to advocate U.S. policy, so it’s a great chance for Iraqis to meet Americans and hear a wide range of opinions on matters.  During their visit to the south, I spoke with Alvin and the band at length about their travels as musical ambassadors.  On their last trip, as part of ECA’s Rhythm Road: American Music Abroad program, they visited Saudi Arabia, the United Arab Emirates, Yemen and Oman.

What made me happiest was to hear about the friendships that Alvin and his group had made across the Middle East.  When I told him I was headed to Oman next, he said, “Oman? Oh, man! You’re going to love it there.  Folks there are so cool.  I just got an e-mail from one of my Omani friends the other day.  I would love to get back there again and play with them.”

Hearing that, I have a feeling this won’t be the last time I see Alvin and the fellas.

Read more about Aaron Snipe’s work with the Provincial Reconstruction Team in Muthanna, Iraq.

]]> http://blogs.state.gov/index.php/entires/jazz_with_iraqis/ 2009-04-21T21:28:58+00:00 The Colors of Warka About the Author: Aaron Snipe is a Foreign Service Officer with the Provincial Reconstruction Team in Muthanna, Iraq.

The title of the art exhibit was The Colors of Warka, named after the ancient Sumerian goddess of beauty, Inanna. When January 10th rolled around, and the Ambassador's Black Hawks touched down in Muthanna, the exhibit was ready to go. The Ambassador’s agenda for the visit was packed full of meetings and appearances designed to give the Ambassador a taste of what PRT Muthanna is doing in the province. A visit to the art gallery, a meeting with the Provincial Council Chair, lunch with the Governor of Muthanna, followed by tea in our mudhif with the mayors. It may sound simple enough, but transporting the United States Ambassador around Muthanna in multiple ground and air movements to multiple sites, was no small task. Our security guys performed admirably and were flexible with the many last-minute schedule changes.

Due to security concerns, we had kept the Ambassador's travel a secret until that morning. My fellow-team member, Albert Hadi, (pre-staged at the exhibit) broke the news to the stunned group of artists, 30 minutes before the Ambassador arrived.

"Which Ambassador? You mean the American Ambassador is coming to Muthanna?" said one of the women.

"Yes," Albert informed her, "the American Ambassador is coming to Muthanna to see your paintings."

The room broke out in hushed chatter.

"The guy on TV?" one woman asked, raising her arm above her head to denote the Ambassador's high rank, "He's coming to see us?"

The Ambassador walked through the entire exhibit, and took time to speak with each and every artist about her work. The same women, who months ago were hesitant to even have their pictures taken, were now speaking to the U.S. Ambassador, with television cameras rolling. ABC News, the Los Angeles Times, Reuters, Al-Iraqiya, Al-Sharqiya and a number of other media organizations were all in attendance. After the Ambassador departed for the day's meetings, the team distributed paints, brushes, an easel, and canvases to the artists. The day's program had been designed specifically for the Ambassador and was a special gallery showing. With their new supplies in hand, the artists could now begin painting in preparation for their three-week exhibit in March.

Read Aaron's previous or next entries about the paintings of Muthanna.]]> http://blogs.state.gov/index.php/entires/colors_warka/ 2009-04-10T17:53:58+00:00 Muthanna Paintings Depict Lives of Iraqis About the Author: Aaron Snipe is a Foreign Service Officer with the Provincial Reconstruction Team in Muthanna, Iraq.

Not long ago, one of my superiors in Baghdad sent a tasking memo to our Provincial Reconstruction Team (PRT): the Ambassador is considering coming to Muthanna. Why should he come to your PRT? A fair question. We circled the wagons and came up with a few important points. In 2006, Muthanna became Iraq's first PIC (Provincial Iraqi Control) Province, when authority shifted from the Coalition Provisional Authority back into Iraqi hands. Muthanna remains Iraq's least economically developed province and unemployment is high. But, despite those facts, there has been a sustained peace and stability province-wide. After some deliberation, Baghdad notified us that the Ambassador was interested in coming for a visit. There were, of course, political meetings he would need to attend, but as the Public Diplomacy Officer, I was focused on public diplomacy: what were the events I could plan that would best highlight our good work here in Muthanna? I wanted time to plan, so I suggested to the embassy that the Ambassador come in late February. I had some good ideas for a visit, but I would need some time to pull it all together. Baghdad responded with a date: January 10. Ugh. That wasn't much time.

Before the impending visit was on any of our radars, a cultural program that might just dovetail with the Ambassador's trip was already in the works. A few months earlier, the PRT, in cooperation with a local NGO, organized a luncheon for a group of female Iraqi artists. Part of my job as Public Diplomacy Officer is to share U.S. culture and values with Iraqis, but it's also to support Iraqi efforts to preserve their own culture. We asked the women to bring in examples of their work, and we hung their paintings along the walls of the meeting hall. Very few of the women had had formal art training. Painting was a hobby for all, a creative outlet for some, and an escape for others. Their artwork spanned the spectrum of their life's experiences. Some paintings were colorful and bright, while others were dark and depressing. All documented the lives of women in Muthanna.

We chatted with the women about doing a larger gallery showing. Would they be interested in holding a multi-city art exhibition if I could get the funding? They were thrilled with the idea. What began as a meeting with a stoic group of Iraqi women with canvases in hand, ended in a beehive of excitement with ideas flowing freely. Here was a demographic that seldom had the chance to speak out. Their art resonated with me deeply, and I was committed to finding a way to help these women tell their stories.

I went back to my office that evening and immediately began to work on a proposal. In no time at all, my proposal was approved (who says the Federal Government moves at a glacial pace?), and I was busy working with an NGO to purchase art supplies and canvases for each of the exhibit participants. The artists would paint submissions for an exhibit that would show in Muthanna's three largest cities, Samawa, Rumaytha, and Khider, sometime in the spring. For the artists, it would be the first time most of them had ever displayed their art publicly. One woman told us that she had painted for years, but feared no one would ever see her work. Another woman, considerably older and pointing to a young woman next to her, proclaimed, "I am here for my daughter-in-law! I told my son, 'he must support her dreams!' So I am here to make sure she has a chance!"

Read Aaron's next entry about the art exhibit in Muthanna.]]> http://blogs.state.gov/index.php/entires/muthanna_paintings/ 2009-04-10T14:49:58+00:00