Read I Have Iraq in My Shoe for Free Online

overweight baggage fee. The rotten liars at JFK had told me that the $850 (plus $40 for the duffel) would cover the fees all the way to Iraq. The man at the Amman airport apologized and said, no, I would have to pay another $500. Unbelievable. I had now spent a total of $2,920 on overweight luggage. Go ahead and add it to the $39,000, but Suze is going to be pissed.
    The Amman airport was thankfully small, so it was easy to locate the hotel shuttle. I boarded the little bus, just shaking my head. While my brain was spinning with the gargantuan sums that were crushing my poor, abused credit card, I pulled my phone out of my purse, just to see if I had service in Amman, Jordan. Can you hear me now? Shockingly, yes! My little phone powered to life and then beeped to alert me that I had a new voice mail! Oh, that would be nice, hearing a familiar, happy, friendly voice from home.
    As the shuttle bumped along, I heard, “Hey, Gretch, it’s Jessie,” and then her voice cracked and the rest of the message was convulsive sobbing from my sister, who was crying because she hadn’t had a chance to talk to me before I left New York and thought I was going to die in The Iraq and was absolutely not helping me adjust to being in a strange new place after going through travel trauma and spending thousands of dollars I did not have. This was the thanks I got for giving her a free ski bag.
    The hotel was called the Golden Tulip. That sounds pretty, doesn’t it? Yeah, it wasn’t. There was a metal detector just behind the front doors to the lobby, which did not instill me with a sense of warmth or, ironically, security. Welcome to the Middle East. I did not see one other woman between the time I checked in and the next morning when I checked out. The hotel employees were all men, and the other hotel guests were all men. My room had a very grotty feel to it, and I was pretty sure the stains on the curtains and carpet were blood.
What am I doing here?
    Bloodstains and slight unease aside, my night was uneventful. After using the hotel’s business center to send an email to Warren that screamed, “I AM HEMORRHAGING MONEY,” I was actually able to sleep for a few hours before reboarding the shuttle to the airport.
    My mood improved perceptibly upon discovering that the Amman airport had both a Starbucks
and
a Cinnabon. I loved Amman! Welcome to the Middle East! It was 6:00 a.m., and I was insanely hopped up on sugar and having a jolly, hyper time waiting for the flight to Suli. It was amazing what familiarity and carbs could do to put me at ease.
    Upon boarding the plane, I took my seat next to a young, apprehensive-looking, sandy-blond-haired American guy wearing a newsboy cap. He introduced himself and said that he was going to Sulaimani, to teach English at the university. His name was Steve.
    Steve! That was the guy! Oh, thank God, it wasn’t Brandon!
I was so relieved that Steve was not Brandon and still very hyper from the Cinnabon and Starbucks. I told Steve the whole Dude story, which he found amusing. Steve was the exact opposite of Brandon-the-Dude. He was like a little lost puppy you wanted to just pat on the head. He wasn’t spitting chewing tobacco or ranting at alleged whores or hissing the N-word under his breath, and that made the short flight to Suli quite pleasant. We landed, and I looked over Steve’s shoulder out onto the barren tarmac. We were in The Iraq.

         ASTOUNDING     
ACCOMPLISHMENTS OF PART 1
    Running total spent on overweight luggage: $2,920 (okay, maybe “accomplishments” is the wrong word)
    Debt eliminated: $0 (and now it’s closer to $42,000, thanks to the overweight luggage)
    Countries traveled to: ½ (I really don’t count airport/airport hotel as a country visit, but the Jordan stamp will still be in my passport)
    Pairs of shoes purchased: 0 (I’m not counting the red suede boots, and you can’t make me)
    Soul mates met: 0 (Steve was not Brandon, and he was also not The