10 May 2005 - At about 9:45 am, we heard a loud explosion that shook our windows and echoed through our halls. We immediately looked at the clock to see if it was on the hour, as that is when US troops destroy unexploded ordinances. Since it wasn’t, we immediately knew it must be a car bomb. Shelia had gone out 20 minutes before to run an errand, and she immediately called to let us know that she’s inside and ok. Emergency vehicles rushed passed our apartment as we headed to the roof to look for smoke. There was a huge black cloud billowing from amongst the buildings about 3/4 mile north of us.

Our landlord’s wife was on the roof doing laundry. Before she ran down to call and see if her husband was ok, she told us that it looked like Firas Square, one of the major intersections at a bridge going across the Tirgis into the Green Zone. We were planning to go through that intersection and over that bridge to the Green Zone today to meet with a UN human rights worker, and we worried we wouldn’t be able to.

We decided to try the visit anyway, so we met our driver down the street and set off. We began talking about the explosion and noted that it wasn’t in the Green Zone, "No," our driver said, "the black zone", and we laughed. We quickly learned that we wouldn’t be able to take the normal roads to the bridge. Iraqi police blocked intersections with random items; metal pipes, tree trunks, random bits of razor wire, anything that would deter traffic away from the bomb sight.

Turns out, the car bomb wasn't at Firas Square but on Sadone street, they’d targeted a military convoy. We heard that seven were confirmed dead (the number always rises with time), all civilian bystanders, no military personnel. They say over 40 were injured, and the bomb entirely missed the convoy and only hit civilians. There was another bomb today we didn’t hear, apparently a suicide bomber rammed his car into an Iraqi police station and injured six cops. There are always more attacks when the Iraqi National Assembly is meeting.

Because of the road closings, convoys, and heavy traffic, it took us about 40 minutes to go the ¾ of a mile to the bridge. But the long, roundabout way gave me a chance to see a bit more of Baghdad. The city often goes from really normal to really freaky within a few blocks. While most buildings are standard (maybe a little damage here and there) we’d sometimes come upon major compounds, surrounded by walls, razor wire, and armored guard towers. One was a hotel that housed a major security contractor; another was the Ministry of Education. Apparently, the new Iraqi Government is so unpopular (seen rightfully as a US puppet) that every ministry must be a fortified military compound. This is democracy?

Military convoys make their passing quite the event. They usually include multiple hummers with machine gunners on top, followed by SUVs (shoot me cars) and then more hummers. Iraqi traffic keeps a huge distance behind; apparently these convoys have shot-up many random Iraqi cars that accidentally drove too close. All the hummers have white signs with Arabic writing on them; we guess that they say something like "Stay back or we’ll kill you!", but it’s a paragraph of tiny letters that you have to get pretty close in order to read. Irony has become an art in occupied Iraq.

In addition to US convoys, Iraqi military and police drive around at high speeds. These are pickup trucks with spray-paint stenciled logos, full of young men blazing hand guns and assault rifles, some in uniforms, some in black masks, who frequently shoot into the air for intimidation. "Mafia" our driver calls them, or "cowboys". I find this fitting.

Armored helicopters frequently fly very low overhead. I’m told that they fly low so that they’re only in view for a short time and are harder to shoot down, but then of course they often have accidents and run into things. We had some discussion about how difficult it must be for a pilot to choose weather to risk being shot down or risk running into something. We concluded that it’s best for them to not fly at all, and instead go home and play with their children.

We found that the bridge was closed to traffic, perhaps because the National Assembly is meeting. Get this, every time the Iraqi National Assembly meets, they shut down the major bridge connecting north and south Baghdad. Can you imagine the US shutting down major highways every time congress is in session? And we wonder why this new government is so unpopular. We began walking across the bridge as Iraqis are forced to, and quickly learned that it isn’t closed to all traffic; military, contractors, and Iraqi National Guard (ING) vehicles wiz by, often at dangerously high speeds considering all the walkers. The bridge is about a half a mile long, and lined with Iraqi women begging for money, men selling cold soda, and children offering to shine shoes.

The Green Zone

This massive fortified compound had been built-up in my mind as this wicked place of death and destruction. I’ve been terrified to go anywhere near it, like I’d spontaneously explode if we drove by or something. Therefore, I’d been fearing this visit with the UN, but I decided it was worth the risk to see this "Green Zone" and meet some of our key international contacts. Once we got there and inside, I realized that this was another exaggeration in my head. The guards and fortresses become scarily normal.

To get to the UN office, we had to go through 6 checkpoints and deal with five different security forces. We were initially greeted by ING and US contractors, then US contractors and US soldiers, then Georgian soldiers outside the UN compound, and finally UN Forces (called blue birds) who were soldiers from Fiji. I can’t imagine being trapped in that place like so many journalists and NGO reps, forbidden to leave by their bosses who are working in offices thousands of miles away.

We met with the guy in charge of the entire UN human rights mission in Iraq. In fact, he’s it. He’s the ONLY representative from the UN Human Rights Commission, and one of only 100 UN workers in the entire country, which includes the Fijian security forces. The number of UN staff only recently increased to 100 from 35. This is all the workers the UN is allowed to have to staff all their projects for the entire country, including administration, construction, humanitarian aid, governance, constitution-writing, refugees, children, and lastly, human rights; and none may leave the Green Zone.

This man is one of the most passionate and dedicated UN workers I’ve ever met. He obviously overworks himself, even though Green Zone curfew closes down his office at 9pm. He is quite frustrated that he’s forbidden to leave, even with an armed convoy. He said he longed to live like us, or to even just go for a walk down the streets of Iraq. He’s even contemplated using his vacation time to see the country he works so hard for. Besides, how is he supposed to monitor human rights in Iraq if he can’t ever meet, visit, or interview Iraqis? The answer is obvious, he’s isn’t. I believe the US has intentionally let the security situation get this bad so that they can occupy Iraq free from international monitoring. This is why our continued presence is so important.

We discussed ways that we could work with him; he said he could give us some contacts and we could provide him with information and interviews from abused detainees and other human rights abuses. One thing he can do is apply pressure from within and keep the US forces and new Iraqi Government on their toes, so we’ll keep the reports coming. On the way out, he commented to a co-worker that CPT is his most important ally in monitoring human rights in Iraq. That’s pretty flattering.

We decided we might as well walk home from the Green Zone because it takes so long to drive and wouldn’t be too dangerous if we stayed along the riverside. However, we were delayed as we approached the Palestine Hotel compound. Private Iraqi security guards were very confused to see us. They couldn’t believe we were really internationals walking outside the Green Zone with no armor or guards. They didn’t really know what to do with us, as they had no procedure for dealing with internationals at this checkpoint. After about 15 minutes, their English-speaking white South African boss came out and personally escorted us through the compound. He offered to give us an armed escort home, but we explained that we feel guns and armor only make us targets, and we made it home safely on our own.

I went out with my young Palestinian-Iraqi friend to get an Iraqi-style haircut and shave. I think I look nice and undercover now.


Joe Carr is a 24-year-old anti-oppression activist and performance artist from Kansas City, Missouri. He attended the Evergreen State College in Olympia, Washington and spent January-April 2003 coordinating for the International Solidarity Movement in Rafah, Palestine, where he witnessed Israeli soldiers murder US peace activist Rachel Corrie and British peace activist Tom Hurndall. Joe is now a full-time activist with the Christian Peacemaker Teams in Palestine. He is currently working with CPT in Baghdad, Iraq, having been denied entry to Israel. He'll be back in the states in June.


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