Life & Business, Not So Typical

We landed in the dusty Erbil airport on June 21st at 3:30 pm. Our good friend picked us up and took us to our Country Director's house where we stayed for three days, and then we moved into a transitional home. We lucked out because it's very expensive for short-term housing here, and we paid a normal month's rent to stay in a nice, furnished home that an American family had left for the summer. It was a great place to make home base while we went through the motions of finding our own home, obtaining residency, and buying a vehicle.

I was surprised to find rent here to be so incredibly expensive, on average around $1000 US per month based on everything we found anyway. After much searching, we found a home in a middle class, blue collar-like neighborhood for under our budgeted amount. It was a big win considering we then had to spend quite a lot of money furnishing the home and fixing it up. When renting or buying a home, there isn't a lot of time to think about it. You check it out, and basically have to decide that day whether you want it or not. The market turns over quickly and waiting a day probably means losing your chance at that particular place. Initially, we thought this place was perfect, and now that we're more or less settled in, we feel that way again. The month inbetween was similar to hell for me because it consisted of a seemingly infinite list of mundane tasks. I found myself very frustrated at all the problems--fixing light switches, installing toilets and A/C units, painting, buying light fixtures, sealing up the doors and windows for bugs and dust, and on and on the list went, all without having our own vehicle, which we finally bought about two weeks ago. Now most of the "fix it" list is complete and the furnishing list we have reduced to things we can count on one hand. Life is becoming more typical with regular trips to the grocery store and a semi-set routine. 

Now, work has been very interesting. As most of you already know, I work for an agribusiness called Agrisoya. We were a company started by the non-profit organization, SALT International. We worked with the Ministry of Agriculture (MOA) to conduct a few years of research trials, and now we're working with farmers to help them grow soybeans as a cash crop. At harvest time in October, we will buy the beans, process them into low-fat soybean meal and sell the product to a local poultry producer. Thus far, the farmers have done quite well with this year's crop, aside from a few issues with irrigation and weed control, and we're looking forward to yields between 1 MT per acre and 1 MT per donum, which is excellent even in comparison to some places in the states, and especially this year due to the drought. And the factory will soon be commissioned and on it's way to full operating capacity by the end of September.

My official role in this is to be the Director of Training & Research, which means I will (eventually) spend most of my time assisting the Chief Agronomist and conducting seminars, field days, and training sessions with the university, MOA, and farmers. As a business within it's first six months, all four employees are scrambling to get things jump-started, organized, and on a sustainable path. This means long hours, as is typical in new businesses, but along with that, in an entirely different culture with a language barrier and few friends to whom we can vent. 

Iraq is among the eight most corrupt countries in the world according to Transparency International (http://www.iraq-businessnews.com/tag/transparency-international/), and it is ranked 164 of 183 for overall "ease of doing business" by RealClearWorld (http://world-business-rank.realclearworld.com/l/348/Iraq). As one might guess, this makes everything incredibly challenging. A simple task that might take thirty minutes to an hour in the States might take a day or more here. However, I must distinguish here between the Kurdish Region of Iraq, and the Central Government in Baghdad. The information above relates to the whole of Iraq, including the Kurdish Regional Governate (KRG). However, it has to be taken into account that Barzani has gone to great lengths in the KRG to protect the rights of businesses and provide a fair litigation process. I am grateful for the KRG's ambition to distinguish itself as a profitable and fair place to do business, even if it is far from being realized due to high levels of corruption and isolation.

I have often thought over the past few years that I would pursue my PhD in International Relations with some concentration on food security issues and conflict. I am grateful for this opportunity to work in an agribusiness on the ground in an international context, especially in Iraq and formerly Afghanistan. What I am learning right now, I believe, will only increase my understanding of the pragmatic issues people, businesses, and governments must face in order to see social, economic, and political progress--all of which are necessary to create a food secure environment for the future. I hope being involved in the initial phases of this is as rewarding as it is stressful. Business registration, budgetary policies, a foreign legal system and bureaucracy, obtaining credit at high risk, working across cultural and linguistic barriers, and a broken, or at the very least, disjointed supply chain are among the many factors that make work tough for us. Some signs give me hope, such as Dr. Talib Elam's blogs--http://www.kurdistanfoodsecurity.com/2012/05/kurdistan-benefit-of-soybean-production_15.html. It is possible to see a healthy, and food secure Kurdistan in Northern Iraq, and we are working hard on many levels to see that happen.

Also, if you're interested in seeing pictures of the soy fields and factory, check this out: http://www.hebervega.com/2012/07/16/my-work-for-salt-international/. 

Tennessee in the Spring

Last time I wrote, I was readying myself to leave Mazar-i-Sharif, Afganistan, and preparing for a few months in the states. I expected to write, at least once a month, while at home, but the time never seemed right, the words never came. Then, I hoped to begin writing, once a week, in Erbil, but the transition into a new home, culture, city, and job has bogged me down.  I guess I can make excuses all day long for why I didn't write or reason my way through the lack of motivation to write. Let's move on to what happened back in Tennessee during springtime.  

We spent a few days in Dubai in transit between Afghanistan and Denver. Natalie and I walked from our hotel to the Mall of the Emirates, which contains a snow skiing slope. I watched children eating McDonald's french fries, and couldn't help but think back to the kids waving to us in the streets of Mazar (and even further back to India, Ethiopia, etc...). The feeling was overwhelming but I can't put words to it. At first, it was saddening, and then I felt angry, and then apathy, which I guess was my mind's way of saying "this is too big for you, move on". Our two days there didn't seem real. It was like being in a city on a different planet. We only flew about five hours, but we changed temperatures by about 50-60 degrees Fahrenheit, went from stark and unforgiving mountains to beaches and sky-scrapers, from beat-up cars and crazy drivers to $250 k cars with 16 year old drivers.    

From Dubai, we flew to Denver where we spent a week drinking good beer, eating great food, and driving through the mountains with Natalie's aunt. And let's not forget the wonders of central heat! We felt relieved. It was like getting a breath of air after a deep dive to the bottom of a swimming pool where the water presses hard from all directions. We were groggy and jet-lagged the first few days, but by the end of the week we were wide-eyed and mystified by the familiar comforts of the United States. Natalie's aunt showed great hospitality while we stayed with her and her husband, and we can't wait to visit again at some point, or to return the favor in Iraq. Toward the end of the week, I went snow skiing with an old friend. I hadn't been since I was around 18 or so, and it was exhilarating. It reminded me of the pleasures one can find when physical activity and the outdoors are put together. I've always been fond of such things, as a way to stay mentally sharp and healthy, almost like meditation, but being in Afghanistan, unable to pursue any outdoor activity (with ease anyway), really drained me. Very thankful to my friend Ben for that experience.

We flew back to Des Moines, and traveled back to Grinnell with my friend Jordan in our Subaru, which I missed dearly in AF. We were only in Grinnell for a few weeks before packing everything up for the move back to Tennessee. These few weeks were a blur catching up at work and trying to plan out the rest of our time before the leap to Iraq. I'm one of those weirdo's that find transition sensational--leaving the known behind and heading straight into the mystery. This was true of my thoughts and emotions in the U-Haul back to TN, even if I was only transitioning back "home". 

In traveling back and forth over the past few years, I've realized that even returning home to familiar things can be quite adventurous. I think it's because we change, all of us, but when we're together we don't notice. After spending time away and returning, the changes are more noticeable. Every time I've left and returned, I've made new friends and acquaintances, but this time was unique. I only spent time with those closest to me, and didn't really meet anyone new. I kept to myself, trying to write, read, and process the past year, and more really, and also trying to pull the various pieces of my identity together from each of my experiences. I don't like being idle. I don't like not working. This was the hardest aspect of my being home. It forced me to stop and think, to rest and not worry about fulfilling obligations or goals, or pursuing dreams and ambitions. This time was preserved by the fact that work was guaranteed ahead, but there were no responsibilities for several months. It was a necessary thing before moving to Iraq for a minimum of two years, and while there were days I felt miserable and purposeless, I look back joyfully at the time I had fishing, sitting by the fire, and relaxing with the closest of family and friends. Tennessee is amazing in the spring. I want this time again, but it will be a while.