Links
Archives
- 01/01/2003 - 02/01/2003
- 02/01/2003 - 03/01/2003
- 01/01/2004 - 02/01/2004
- 02/01/2004 - 03/01/2004
- 03/01/2004 - 04/01/2004
- 04/01/2004 - 05/01/2004
- 05/01/2004 - 06/01/2004
- 06/01/2004 - 07/01/2004
- 07/01/2004 - 08/01/2004
- 08/01/2004 - 09/01/2004
- 09/01/2004 - 10/01/2004
- 10/01/2004 - 11/01/2004
- 11/01/2004 - 12/01/2004
- 01/01/2005 - 02/01/2005
- 08/01/2007 - 09/01/2007
Time to once again open my life up a little in order to share the plethora of wealth I'm about to absorb. I'm going to be back in Iraq through September, so hop on board and check back every couple of days, I'll do my best to update as much as possible. Questions? dtate38@cox.net And check out the site I'm working with: http://www.billroggio.com Support independent journalism!
Saturday, August 07, 2004
Truly, I do love Istanbul, but after this past day there, I am convinced the city wants me to go. Like I said yesterday, I don't want to whine about a crappy boss and a crappy company, but things got so bad near the end that I really have to vent it out one last time.
Be clear on this: I took this job for Afghanistan and myself, period. The country is so broken and the story so underreported that I feel obligated to come back to finish what I started, so I am. But I'm convinced that the powers that be were trying like mad to keep me from doing it.
I made it back to the hotel and went out looking for my last good meal that I'll have for some time: A Big Mac. Oh hell yeah! I love my Big Macs! The biggest thing I crave when in Afghanistan. From there a quick note to my wife at the internet cafe, a stop at the store to buy my Afghan money-changer some whisky (on request), one final beer and a good, long shower. I wrapped as much luxury as I could into two hours knowing that the next four months would be very testing and demanding.
On the flight, I realized that it was the same jet I took to Istanbul with Karzai. I also met a guy from Polaris, a picture distributer. What luck. He's going to hook me up with his boss and hopefully I'll be able to earn extra money with stills. Considering I'm probably the most travelled journalist in Afghanistan, this could work out well.
And as the sun began to rise over the mountains of Afghanistan, once again, another Talking Heads song popped into my head. I don't know the name, and I barely know the lyrics, but it fits like a glove: Home, that's where I want to be but I guess I'm already there. I feel numb... I guess Heidi knows what she should get me for Christmas, huh?
Be clear on this: I took this job for Afghanistan and myself, period. The country is so broken and the story so underreported that I feel obligated to come back to finish what I started, so I am. But I'm convinced that the powers that be were trying like mad to keep me from doing it.
I made it back to the hotel and went out looking for my last good meal that I'll have for some time: A Big Mac. Oh hell yeah! I love my Big Macs! The biggest thing I crave when in Afghanistan. From there a quick note to my wife at the internet cafe, a stop at the store to buy my Afghan money-changer some whisky (on request), one final beer and a good, long shower. I wrapped as much luxury as I could into two hours knowing that the next four months would be very testing and demanding.
On the flight, I realized that it was the same jet I took to Istanbul with Karzai. I also met a guy from Polaris, a picture distributer. What luck. He's going to hook me up with his boss and hopefully I'll be able to earn extra money with stills. Considering I'm probably the most travelled journalist in Afghanistan, this could work out well.
And as the sun began to rise over the mountains of Afghanistan, once again, another Talking Heads song popped into my head. I don't know the name, and I barely know the lyrics, but it fits like a glove: Home, that's where I want to be but I guess I'm already there. I feel numb... I guess Heidi knows what she should get me for Christmas, huh?
