After about 20 minutes we arrived at the Baghdad Hilton. Saïd opened the door for me (such a gentleman) and checked me in at the reception. I had room 450. Inside the hotel, you couldn't tell that you were in Iraq. It looked just the same as the Hilton in Paris. Except for the armed guards and the army trucks at the entrance...
I was still looking around when Saïd was calling my name. He was waiting at the elevator. I was walking towards him when I suddenly noticed a nun sitting on one of the sofas near the entrance. Huh, that's funny. I thought. I guess I didn't lie to my mother after all. I was probably staring at her, when I suddenly tripped over something. "What the Fuck?" came out of my mouth before I realized it. I couldn't believe my eyes, there were two nuns on the ground. I apparently had bumped into them. They were so small that I hadn't seen them. They were looking very viciously at me. I guess they didn't like the cursing. "Oh, I'm sooo sorry." I helped them up and they walked away without saying anything.
I was very confused now. Wtf are nuns doing in a hotel in Baghdad? In the Hilton? Were they allowed to stay at such expensive hotels? I thought God and the Bible were against such kinds of wealth?
Going up to the 4th floor I was still pondering about what just happened. Was it some kind of sign or just coincidence? But I don't believe in coincidence... Saïd broke my train of thought. "Here we are, I'll leave you to rest for an hour and then we're off to meet someone." And then suddenly I was alone in the room. A huge room. With balcony and a giant bed. Oh, and chocolates and mints on the pillow!!! I lay down on the bed. Cool, a water bed. I suddenly realized that I was giggling. Oh grow up, natalie! I told myself. I thought about the nuns but my eyes felt so heavy...

This is a pic of Sa�d, he has sent me afterwards 

I could tell you about the dreams I had while I was sleeping on the plane. But since some people are getting really impatient with my story, I'll just leave that out and get on with my story. 4 hours and 45 minutes later we landed at Baghdad International airport.
An interpreter was supposed to meet me in the arrivals hall. Ever since I was young I hated if there was sb waiting for you with a sign with your name on. So stressing! Especially when you're supposed to wear glasses, and it's almost impossible to read the signs, unless you get really close... and then the people holding up the sign think you're the one they're waiting for. Pfff. I hate it.
So, I already had the shivers once I stepped foot in the very busy hall. Pff, how was I'm going to find this guy...
And then suddenly a tall, dark (for the girls: very handsome) guy walked towards me. "Are you miss Natalie?" he said in perfect English. I was totally overwhelmed. "Euh, yyyes" I stuttered. "I'm Saïd, your interpreter for the next few days."
How the hell did he recognize me?
"They told me you have long blonde hair, and since you're the only one in the entire airport who looks like that, it was kinda obvious" He seemed to read my mind.
He guided me to the exit of the airport, carrying my bag. Handsome, and a gentleman too? There was a car waiting in front of the airport exit. Saïd put my bag in the trunk told me to make myself comfortable in the car and got into the car himself.
"Welcome to Iraq, enjoy your stay" he joked. "Let me tell you what exactely you are supposed to do here. The hotel is only 20 minutes away, if we're lucky. Here in Iraq you never know what's going to happen. Maybe a car bomb on our way..." he said with a wink.

My mum was waiting at the door. "So, where are you really going?" She asked with a penetrating gaze. "Mum, I'm in a hurry, I don't have time for this. I'll be back in a few days. Don't worry, okay, I'll be fine! " I grabbed my suitcase from behind her back and started walking back to the taxi. I felt a bit guilty and turned around. "I'll call you when I land" The cabdriver honked and made some impatient gestures. "I really have to go now" I said while I was running towards the cab. I jumped into the backseat and the driver pressed down the accelerator.

In less than half an hour we reached the airport entrance.
"There we are! We made it just in time... Just go to the Iraqi Air-counter in the departure hall. Your plane tickets are waiting for you there. Here's your bag... Don't forget to contact the number I wrote down for you. I'll call him tonight and ask him if he wants to meet you. Well, good luck!"
The next 15 minutes are a blur... It's like I flew through customs or something. It just happened so fast... Before I realized it, I was sitting in a plane. Business Class. Glass orange juice and newspaper in front of me. "Mmm, nice" I thought. I made myself comfortable in my seat when the pilot announced that the flight would take 4 hours 45 minutes. After that I dozed off...

So where was I? Oh yes, I was on my way home to pick up my stuff... I know that I probably wouldn't have enough time to pack everything I needed (When I pack, I have to wait half an hour afterwards to leave and think about what I could have forgotten) so I called my mum to ask her if she could pack my stuff. I took my cell phone out of my backpack and dialed her number. She almost picked up her phone immediately, which is a miracle. "Ah, mum, it's me. Could you do something for me? They asked me to go somewhere for a few days, and I have to catch a plane in two hours. I'm in a cab right now on my way home. Could you pack my stuff?"
"Where are you going? For how long? Alone? " was the expected serenade of questions. "Oh, nothing special, somewhere in France. But it's a very dry part of France, so I'll need appropriate clothes for that. Oh, yeah, and there's a woman, a nun, coming with me, so i'll need clothes that cover most of my body... Maybe something for my head as well, she's very conservative..." There was silence on the other end of the line... "I gotta go now, mum, we're about to enter a tunnel. I'll see you in 30 minutes." I quickly hung up the phone. I wondered if she actually believed the story.

I noticed that the cabdriver was staring at me through his rearview mirror. "Don't you know that lying is a capital sin in any religion?" he reproached me. "I know, but it's for her own good" I answered him. He still looked at me with a reproaching look. I was just happy he stopped speaking. I wanted to think about what was about to happen. The driver granted me 15 minutes of peace before he tried to make conversation again. "So, you're going to Iraq? You know, I'm Iraqi, I mean I was born in Iraq. Some of my family's still there. You know, my uncle is one of the guards of the secret prison in which Saddam is held. He is a very important man there" I wasn't really listening to the guy, but now he suddenly caught my attention. "Really? Do you think I can meet this uncle of yours?" I asked him. "Euhm, I don't know. He's very religious. He doesn't like Westerners and especially women." "Mmm, and what if I wear an all-covering burka?" "Mmmaybe, I'll give him a call and see what I can do. I'll write down his address for you. But you have to promise that you won't give it to anyone else. There are lots of people who would prefer to see him dead." At that time, we arrived at my house. I told him that I would rather die than give this address to anyone else. He wrote it down on a small piece of paper, handed it to me and told me: "Now go and grab you bag, we 're on a tight schedule" I jumped out of the car and ran towards my house... My mum was already waiting for me at the door....

And yet again, i have to cut off the story, gotta go

my trip to iraq

Last week my internship at the VRT started. I'm at the Foreign News Desk. My first day went fine, not one mistake with the subtitles or anything. Between 1 o'clock and 6 o'clock news I have time to work on the compilation for Peter Verlinden about Congo. On the second day, after the 1 o'clock news, I went back to the editing room to put my things back. The woman who sits a desk further got a phone call. It was Rudi Vranx from Iraq. He had gotten ill and was supposed to visit Saddam the next morning. He asked if they could send someone else. The woman, An is her name, said she would call him back in just 5 minutes. She hung up the phone and looked around... But there was nobody there, everybody was at lunch. She went to speak to one of the editors-in-chief. They suddenly looked my way. I pretended as if I hadn't seen that and just stared at the computer screen. An came up to my desk. "Do you have anything special to do in the next few days?" She asked me. I answered that I had Portuguese class the next morning, and that there was a christmas party, but nothing that I couldn't miss. "Great, a taxi is waiting at the front door for you. It's gonna take you home and then to the airport. You're going to Iraq" I didn't know what to say. And before I could think of something to say, she was heading back to her desk and called Rudi. I just took my coat and backpack and left the room. As I was walking through the hallway, up and down the stairs, some more hallways, I was thinking about what I would tell my mother. She was not going to like this... "I'll tell her something else" I decided. At the end of the hallway, just outside the building I saw the taxi waiting for me. I greeted the driver and got in the car...

Sorry, I don't have more time right now to tell you 'bout what happened next. I promise I'll be back to you soon

I just wanna announce: I'm working on a post, it won't be for today, but it'll be: One Day in the Life of Saddam. I've been away for a while, and I visited the famous dictator in his prison cell... I followed him for a day. Report follows

I was just rereading some of my first posts... it's really funny to read those again. They were a lot funnier than the ones i'm posting lately. Maybe I should get back to trying to be funny? What do you guys think, should i just relate my weeks to you, or make up stories or funny things? Or a combination of both? OPINIONS PLEASE