Friday, February 13, 2009

Imported Blog from www.natehoward.com

Imported Blog From: Nate Howard Photography DATE: 10/07/2005 09:50:40 AM ----- BODY: Nate's Blog entry from Iraq in 2005. Copyright Post-Bulletin

Everything is a haze now. Not my mind, but my vision. ----- EXTENDED BODY:

March 30, 2005

The haze of war

Everything is a haze now.

Not my mind, but my vision.

35-mph winds have sent dust into this office where I type. The dust dims the intensity of the office lights.

The dust parches my eyes and makes my lips stick to my teeth. Chapstick can only do so much.

This is where civilization began?

I don't know how anything lives here.

Wipeb_3

(Cutline for photo) Spc. Jamie Hagen, 21, of Mankato clears dust from the windshield before leaving on a convoy with battle buddy Sgt. Danny Lowman, 33, of Albert Lea. "Somtimes I think, 'If my friends could see me know,'" she says sitting behind the wheel of the heavy equipment transporter rolling along the Tampa route near Tikrit.

"Well, I've slowed the infiltration in there," says First Sgt. Stan Sabin, walking into my part of the building with a fat roll of green military duct tape.

Now he is taping all the windows in my office.

A soldier walks in and offers me a dust mask, which helps with the dust but is hot on my face.

You just can't win sometimes.

At last, I did it. I napped. Three hours of sleep this afternoon, and I'm feeling charged.

I had hoped to sleep in today, but I needed to go to Tikrit for a press ID.

So again I woke early, 5 a.m., and hooked up with a convoy.

Seven hours later, I had my ID.

Hurry and wait, is how things go here. Patience is hard to maintain, but I've realized this is how things are here, and nobody is going to change it.

The soldiers seem to have adjusted to all the waiting. They cope with it by napping in the trucks, smoking and listening to music.

The iPod is popular. Most vehicles have a digital music player and some cheap computer speakers.

Tomorrow, I hope to visit with an Iraqi family, but I am told I will need a special forces team, and this could take some time to acquire.

Anyone leaving the base goes in a convoy, and no convoy will stop for me to interview an Iraqi family.

Typically, about 20 vehicles of all shapes, sizes and functions assist with the transportation of supplies in this conflict zone.

A CLP or Combat Logistic Patrol, which is yet another name for a convoy, can haul cargo ranging from beef jerky to an 80 RTCH, a Rough Terrain Cargo Handler.

Concrete barricades, SUV's, broken equipment, water, food, vehicle parts, and medical supplies are some of the more common loads.

Third Country Nationals, which are truck drivers from neighboring countries, line up at the gate before stopping at the holding area. They bring supplies from all over the world to the base where everything is loaded onto trailers.

Bravo Company hauls everything but ammo and fuel.

As Sabin tapes the window at my right, I ask where he works.

"I've been at Hormel since 1973," he says. "They've been very good to me. For every month I am here, they give me one week's pay."

"They are doing what the law requires, and then they are going above and beyond," he says.

Time for a smoke break.

As I step outside, I pass platoon commander Maj. Jeff Howe with his head down.

I ask how things went with his meeting where he made a request for my embed with a civilian patrol.

He tells me it's not good.

"We have a bad situation right now," he says.

A 9-year-old boy was shot and killed today as he approached the wire, the perimeter of our base.

Depressing news.

But my spirits lift just minutes later as Howe makes a phone call, trying to get me in the civilian patrol mission.

"He's not you're typical reporter in my book. He's pretty squared away," he says on the phone to the mission commander.

He hangs up. "You're good to go."

Now, I'm nervous.

I really need to watch what I ask for.

March 29, 2005

Combat at 100 mph

Coke tastes best when sitting inside the ‚ÄöWater Palace.‚Äö

The elaborate, gaudy Al Faw palace is surrounded by a manmade lake stocked with carp. Built for Saddam Hussein, the palace has 60 rooms and 29 bathrooms. Crystal chandeliers hang from gold-plated chains, which complement the gold-plated door handles.

The floors and walls are marble. Even the spiral staircase and massive columns are marble. It is surreal.

Inside the palace, Combined Joint Task Force-7 planned their next move in this conflict zone.

Waiting for my helicopter flight from Camp Victory, I was given a brief tour of the palace. I had 30 minutes to take photographs and write and check e-mail.

Leaving Baghdad in a Blackhawk helicopter, I see the stark contrast between the fancy palace and the shacks and mud homes just outside its walls.

The helicopter ride to Balad proved eventful.

Combat first presented itself to me at 100 mph as we passed over the town of Khalis, where a convoy was under attack. We veered away from the fracas as two Apache helicopters roared in to assist in the fight.

I was feeling secure in the heavily armed Blackhawk. We proceeded to Balad ‚Äöwithout incident‚Äö as they say here.

My first night in Iraq, I stayed at Camp Victory on the edge of Baghdad.

At midnight, I went to the mess hall for some chow.

At 1 a.m., I wandered the camp lost, trying to find my tent.

By 1:30 a.m., I was asleep.

At 2 a.m., I awoke to the sound of mortars as they thumped in the distance. I was exhausted and fell back asleep.

I am pleased to inform you that my stay thus far has been without incident.

So much to tell

0329gunner_425 Photo caption: Grant VanRyswyk, 24, of Albert Lea, mans the gunner position on a Humvee while on a mission to Forward Operating Base Summerall Wednesday. The red bull is the sign of the Bravo Company.

No matter how many cups of coffee or cigarettes I have, I can only bring you so much before my eyes sting with exhaustion and I forget what I was writing.

There is so much more I wish I had time to share.

I want to tell you about where I shower — a latrine converted into a shower.

I want to tell you about the Blackhawk helicopter ride and the C-130 ride.

I want to tell you about

... what I saw on the streets of Tikrit.

... the cross-eyed Saddam Hussein mural at the entrance to camp.

Saddamsignb

... the Red Bull division's pride and how the Red Bull energy drink appears to be the unofficial drink of Bravo Company.

... all the candy at the ‚ÄöHunting Shack‚Äö sent from home.

... the friendship I see among the troops.

... how the air is dry and dust, not sand, blows everywhere.

... the scarce wildlife (I have seen 2 desert foxes and some birds).

And so to keep my mind at ease, I have to tell you this ...

Whatever I can’t present while I'm here, you are invited to the Austin Public Library (maybe the Paramount Theatre) when I get back so I can share with you the many experiences I wish I had time to write about.

I really need to pick and choose my battles, no pun intended.

The convoys are irresistible: Starting at 0400 and returning at various times of the afternoon or night, I can only get so much done.

Stay tuned ...

March 27, 2005

A travel day

Just arrived at Camp Striker outside of Baghdad International Airport. It has been a long day of travel.

I started out in Kuwait City with a taxi from my hotel to another hotel, the Hilton, about a 25-minute drive away. From the Hilton, I rode a bus for an hour to the Ali Al Salem Air Base.

The bus driver is our unofficial tour guide as we pass camels and sheep grazing on the sparse green grass in the desert. He talks of the Kuwaiti admiration for the Chevrolet Caprice.

‚It‚Äôs the premium car to own (in Kuwait), better than the Mercedes. The one they got here you can‚Äôt buy in the States.‚ he says.

‚They just love ‚Äòem," he continues. "It‚Äôs got the V8 and rear wheel drive. You can‚Äôt afford to drive those in the States, but it‚Äôs like a sports car. It‚Äôs like a Monte Carlo SS.‚

Arriving at the air base, we unload our bags and a take a seat outside in a big gravel parking lot with a trailer. A dog sniffs all the bags before they are strapped as cargo.

We then board a C-130 bound for Mosul, then Baghdad.

C130_flight_2Inside the cargo plane, we sit on folding nylon bench seats. Nineteen troops are bound for Mosul, our first stop, then another 10 heading to Baghdad. Wearing their body armor and helmets, they all have the same calm, relaxed faces.

It is too loud to make conversation, and most everyone wears the ear plugs we were given as we boarded through the back of the plane.

The soldier sitting across from me is wearing headphones plugged into a CD player. He chews gum as he reads Popular Science magazine.

Others sit on their vests, using them for protection from shots taken by insurgents below during takeoff and landing. I was advised to sit on my vest, so I did.

I craved a view out one of the two small windows at the center of the plane. Two soldiers with the flight crew sit and gaze out the windows.

I know the sun is setting, and when we arrive in Baghdad it is dark. All I can see are artificial lights, powered by generators.

This is ‚Äöa bus stop‚Äö as one soldier tells me, a place where troops arrive and then move on to meet up with their companies.

I passed up an MRE (Meal, Ready to Eat) while waiting at the air base, and now I’m feeling hungry. So hungry, in fact, that as much as I would like to share more about today, I need to eat.

There is an ‚ÄöInternet Cafe‚Äö here. I am told I can use a computer for half an hour, so off I go to file this then eat.

Tomorrow, I board a helicopter for Camp Speicher, where the missions begin.

March 25, 2005

Newspaper and a taxi driver

Reading the Arab Times' Thursday-Friday edition while in Kuwait City ...

In the ‚ÄöLocal‚Äö section of the newspaper is this headline, ‚ÄöSaddam must pay for his deeds: Kuwait‚Äö

The article reveals the support the Kuwaiti government has for Operation Iraqi Freedom.

In the article is a quote from Kuwaiti's head of missions in Geneva, Ambassador Dharar Abdul-Razzak Razzooqi.

‚ÄöIraq is no more a place for killing fields," Razzooqi says. "Two years have elapsed since the fall of the most vicious regime, and we witness the birth of new Iraq where millions of Iraqi men and women, cast the vote in free and democratic elections.‚Äö

I am beginning to understand why my stay in Kuwait City has been a pleasant one.

I have never experienced such hospitality. I don’t think I have had a request denied yet.

Whatever I need, they bring it to my door with a smile, even a bit out of breath, as if they hurried to deliver it.

I realize I am in a fine hotel here in Kuwait, and I don’t claim to have a perspective on what Kuwait's working class thinks of Americans, but I can tell you about what I have experienced here.

It started when a man working the hotel office at the airport sent for a car to pick me up at the airport.

They carried my luggage to the curb, and a man waited outside with me for the car. He and the driver loaded my bags.

Driving to the hotel, I was pleased that the driver spoke some English.

He is from Egypt and came to Kuwait to make more money than what he could earn at home. But this comes at a cost. He visits his family back in Egypt only two times a year.

I explain to him that many Mexicans come to the part of the United States where I live for the same reason he is in Kuwait. He does not know where Minnesota is.

He appears happy, smiling, driving fast and telling me about Kuwait City and how much he likes it.

He tells me that the guests at this hotel claim it is not just a four-star hotel but a six or seven, then laughs.

‚ÄöThis is my hotel.‚Äö he says, as we approach.

He is proud.

Arriving at the hotel, waiting for a man waving a bomb detector under the car, he tells me again, ‚ÄöThis is my hotel‚Äö with a big smile and eyes gazing upward at the hotel with decorative exterior lighting.

He showed that same sense of pride we Americans have when bringing home visitors from the airport. ‚ÄöThis is my home,‚Äö we say as we pull into the driveway.

And all the while he's beaming about "his" hotel, I am thinking, four weeks a year he sees his family.

My two weeks away from home have suddenly become very short.

What is all this?

Kuwaitcity_trimmed
Dusk in Kuwait City, seen from the 20th floor of my hotel.

I just realized you might want to know who this is and what I'm doing in Iraq?

For almost six years I have worked in the Austin bureau of the Post-Bulletin as a photographer.

Now, I am half a world away.

It is my privilege to bring to you stories from Company B of the 434th Main Support Battalion stationed in Iraq. The company in based in St.Cloud and Austin, Minn., and is composed of troops from across southeastern Minnesota and beyond.

Today, I write to you from Kuwait. But tomorrow, March 26, I board a plane for Baghdad. From Baghdad, I'll take a helicopter to Tikrit to be embedded with Company B at Camp Speicher.

There, I hope to meet with your neighbors, brothers, spouses or friends serving in the Minnesota National Guard. And I look forward to sharing their stories.

Stay tuned ...

Jelly Bellies over Iraq

I am flying from Amsterdam to Kuwait.

Ahead of me is a monitor displaying "Bridget Jones's Diary." I watch the movie but don't plug in the headphones.

Here I am on a flight to the edge of a war zone and this is the best they can do for entertainment?

It's not long before I turn my attention the small bag of colorful Jelly Bellies on my folding table.

My daughter, Jannel, 7, gave them to me just before I left. We were standing in the kitchen when she handed me the bag, saying, "If you get one that has two stuck together you have double good luck."

So, of course there was one that was really two stuck together.

I figured I need double good luck now, at the beginning of this odyssey. Now, as I fly over Iraq, about 15 Jelly Bellies remain in the bag.

Every now and then I pop one in my mouth and think of the hug and kiss we shared after she gave me the bag in the kitchen.

It was an emotional moment. She had tears in her eyes, which led to tears in my eyes.

But I couldn’t be more proud of my big girl. She always shares.

And then there is my boy, Lukas, 3.

The night before I left, he was asleep in his bed, curled up with his matted puppy close to his face.

His lips were just slightly open, and I leaned over and listened to him breathe. I ran my fingers through his fine, blond hair, admiring every detail of his face.

Then, I went downstairs and laid beside my wife, cramped on our couch. We just held each other in silence.

Now in Kuwait, the Jelly Bellies have so far proven to be good luck, even double good luck.

The cook, a '92 Golf,' talks

On a 6-hour flight from Amsterdam to Kuwait, I sit beside a cook.

He’s classified as a "92 Golf." No, that is not a pre-owned Volkswagen but a cook, a sergeant in food service at Camp Anaconda.

He enlisted in the Marines in 1989 with something to prove.

His father had told 92 Golf that he doubted his son would be able to graduate from the Marines. 92 Golf, who asked his name be withheld, proved his father wrong.

"When I showed up for church after graduation in my ‚Äöpressed blues‚Äö (Marines uniform) they just lit up.‚Äö

Naturally, I ask, ‚ÄöHow is the food?‚Äö

‚It‚Äôs OK‚, replies 92 Golf.

There is more variety and better quality then at the beginning of the war, he says. He even prepares special meals for vegetarians, diabetics, and troops with high blood pressure.

‚ÄöAnd how many do you feed at Camp Anaconda?‚Äö I ask.

‚I don‚Äôt even know the number, but it is a lot‚ he says with his hands spread wide as if holding a beach ball.

92 Golf also spent time in the first Gulf war. ‚ÄöHistory repeats itself‚Äö he says.

92 Golf is a history buff. A Christian who says he copes with the stress through prayer and ‚Äökeeping a good relationship with the Lord‚Äö.

Holding a Bible, he explains how he is ‚Äöseeing their (Shiites and Turks) ancestors, and it is amazing.

‚ÄöThis (Mesopotamia) is where it all began.‚Äö

He says he hears mortar fire every day with Camp Anaconda in the ‚Äöhot zone‚Äö.

How do you deal with the stress I ask?

Call home a lot, play games, sing, tell jokes, anything to keep morale up, he says. He has a wife and two children in South Carolina.

‚ÄöAs long as you get it off your chest and talk to somebody‚Äö he says about the stress and emotions, adding that, "Rank doesn't matter when you are hurting."

92 Golf says the Chaplain has one of the hardest jobs in the war.

He continues explaining the mind of the soldier.

‚ÄöIt is like an on/off switch. A mortar round comes in, and game's over. You get serious.‚Äö

As for relationships with Iraqis, as often is told, he says the enemy is all around.

‚ÄöWe do our best to win the confidence of civilians here. We are here to help them," he says.

I am amazed at how relaxed he is.

He simply closes his eyes and falls asleep siting upright, like a horse at rest. He talks slow. He is confident.

I tell him this is my first time to a war zone.

Like all the others, he says, "Just keep your head down." I'm beginning to think they are serious when they say this.

I give him my business card, and he tucks it into his Bible.

An Alaskan soldier at the airport

Waiting for my flight to Kuwait, I sit find an American dressed in desert camo:

Sitting at Gate 43 at the Amsterdam airport, Private First Class Jason Freyler sits relaxed in a chair passing time with an occasional Marlboro Light.

Freyler, 26, is returning from emergency leave for his father‚Äös funeral back home in Washington.

Around his neck he carries his father in the form of ashes in a silver cross. ‚ÄöHe is with me everywhere I go‚Äö says Freyler holding the cross between his thumb and index finger.

For Freyler, enlisting in the Army was for one reason; his father, a decorated World War II veteran. Freyler is proud to list the awards his father earned in WW II: a Distinguished Service Medal, the Silver Star and Purple Heart.

‚ÄöHe was very proud of me. He told me he respected me for serving our country.‚Äö

I joined to follow in his footsteps. That was the whole reason.‚Äö

What Freyler did not tell his dad was that he is ‚Äöstill trying to figure out what we are doing over there.‚Äö

Freyler and his company are a ‚ÄöChem‚Äö (chemical) unit. Trained for Recon, searching for Nuclear Biological Chemical, or Decon, cleaning up the mess. ‚ÄöIt‚Äös scary stuff,‚Äö says Freyler.

He questions why he is on border patrol on the Kuwait-Iraq border when he is with a chemical unit.

‚ÄöThe Iraqis need to carry their own weight.‚Äö he says.

‚ÄöWe need to focus more on the border in our own country rather than being over here,‚Äö he says.

‚ÄöThis goes into Homeland Security. What did they do... forget that part?‚Äö rolling his eyes and shaking his head.

He expresses his dislike for the politics in the Army however, he is a firm believer in the values learned from serving.

Freyler says all high school graduates should enlist in the military adding that violence and drug use would be down and respect and discipline up.

Traveling in uniform back home for the funeral, he says he was disappointed by the lack of support he received.

‚ÄöI don‚Äöt think they (American public) get what we are doing for them.‚Äö he says, ‚ÄöLook, we‚Äöre doing you a service, protecting our country and you don‚Äöt want to show respect?‚Äö

At home and among family he finds support.

His two brothers and mother are proud of him. His younger brother is eager to join the military and follow in big brother‚Äös footsteps.

And when his five years in the service are up, Freyler wants to apply his experience with nuclear biological chemicals and join a hazardous materials team.

 
----- EXCERPT: ----- KEYWORDS: ----- -------- AUTHOR: Nate TITLE: Iraq Blog 2005 for Post-Bulletin, April STATUS: Publish ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: 0 ALLOW PINGS: 1 PRIMARY CATEGORY: Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da CATEGORY: Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da DATE: 10/07/2005 10:36:15 AM ----- BODY: My stay in Iraq would not have been complete with a trip to the bunker. ----- EXTENDED BODY:

April 06, 2005

The pet scorpion and toy trucks

What will I remember most?‚ÄöI wonder sitting in a restaurant waiting for my flight.
Girlboy
The oddities and moments at Camp Speicher have made for a journey I will cherish for years to come.

The latrine converted into a shower with hot water at my barrack certainly will not be forgotten.

The company mayor, Wade Olson, 30, of Speicher MN, smearing KY jelly on doorknobs, head sets and steering wheels made for a good laugh seeing the reaction of his fellow troops.

A female soldier with a pet scorpion in a plastic bottle.

The amazing abundance of candy on the shelves of the hunting cabin and luxuries inside including a TV, stereo, microwave, refrigerator, washer, dryer and Play Station video game to name a few.

A clear full moon and the stars shining bright made for beautiful nights.
Yellowshirtgirl
The laughter and friendship among troops. Evidence of the brother and sister relationships made at the base.

The thud of mortars in the distance.

The ability of a soldier to switch from laughter to a soldier ready to fight.

The list goes on and on.

The camera was an ideal tool to capture my experience here.
Girlsmile

I wanted to stay, I wanted to shoot more pictures. There is more to tell. There are more characters I would have liked to present to you.

Many that made me laugh, many that shared their feelings.

The hospitality toward me was sincere and kind.

The troops in Company B truly went above and beyond the call of duty to see that I was well taken care of.
Mother

In the end, I am convinced my fondest memory was the sight of Iraqi children running to the troops as we approach their homes in the rural farm communities of Iraq.

Their dress, food, homes and farming methods are all so different than ours.

Seeing an Iraqi mother holding her baby in her arms while her son played in the dirt with his new trucks, in the same manner my boy plays with his trucks, I realized, for those things which matter most in life, we are no different.

April 04, 2005

Farewell Kuwait

Fishnetb
With my final hour of daylight in the Middle East, I walk along the shore of Kuwait Bay.

I visit a fishing pier that takes me back to time spent in San Francisco.

This is the Fisherman‚Äö Wharf of Kuwait.

Fresh fish are brought from the boats to the neighboring market.

Standing at the dock I watch fisherman loading their boats with nets before leaving for the night, sleeping on an island in the bay, then bringing in the nets and fish in the morning.

I have the fortune of meeting a man who graduated from a college in England and his English is clear.
Fishbasketb
He owns two of the fishing ships being loaded with nets.

He explains how the fishing industry works in Kuwait.

He escorts me down the pier to the boats.

Would you like to go out tonight and stay on a boat?‚Äöhe asks.

My mind raced with photographic opportunities but I had to turn him down.

I told him I have a flight back to the States tonight.

(Cutline for photo at right)
A man fishes without a pole. He uses his hands to cast a piece of shrimp and lead sinker into the sea. He has a bag of about 15 fish.
Fishthrowb
He gave me his business card and told me to call him the next time I am in Kuwait.

I quickly shoot photos from the pier and hurry off to meet Ramani, the taxi driver who is waiting for me.

I climb into the taxi feeling down.
Womenb
We are bound for the hotel and I realize that my stay in Kuwait has come to a sudden end.


From the gate

Yet another taxi driver makes the blog.

Again, an Egyptian man named Ramani who came to Kuwait to earn money driving a taxi for the past 20 years.

He has a wife and three children in Alexandria, Egypt. He goes home for two months of the year.

He tells me that Kuwaitis love Americans because of their help in the first Gulf War when we sent Saddam‚Äö troops back into Iraq.

I see construction all along the highway as we make our way to Camp Arifjan to visit with more Minnesota troops.

Business no good before war‚he says in rough English. Now, business up 200 percent.‚Äù

He curses Saddam and oil in the same sentence.

We stop at a gas station.
Ramani

He fills up the Crown Victoria with 50 liters for 3 Kuwait Dinars or 13 U.S gallons for $10.20 U.S. dollars. The price of gas is U.S.$1.27 a gallon.

Ramani buys me a pop, and every time he has a cigarette he offers me one as well.

We arrive at the base and I begin the process of getting into the base.

Nothing is easy in the military.

Lt. Staples of Company A, based in Little Falls, Minn., guides me around from one trailer outpost to another trying to get my ID card.

We are turned down everywhere we go for a lack of paperwork and not being on the list.

I contacted the commander 48 hours before my arrival and yet all I can do is stand at the gate.

I am thousands of miles away from home. The troops are about a quarter mile from where I stand. I can see their barracks. A chain link fence with razor sharp wire stands between me and them.

After repeated attempts, we realize that the robot-like staff, contracted workers, are not about to deviate from the rules for this journalist. What makes me angry is that they seem to be enjoying shutting the door in our face.

No sympathy. No, I am sorry, I wish I could do more.‚ÄöJust a short and harsh refusal. I‚Äöve met kinder ATM machines.

So I am back on the phone to my Egyptian friend Ramani, who has by now made the hour trip back to Kuwait City.

He picks me up in one hour at the base and we return to Kuwait City.

Riding home, I tell him about my problems with the military.

He tells me about a beautiful park by the sea in Kuwait City and we make plans to visit this park in the afternoon.

I am done. I tried for one more story on our Minnesota troops in Kuwait but only got to the gate.

Bureaucracy won, this time.

 

Romanian shock and awe

Stories are everywhere you turn when in a foreign land.

I‚Äöve been confined to my hotel for security reasons today.

I wanted to go out, but did not have anyone to guide the way.

So I found a shopping center attached to this hotel and wandered the marble floors looking at store fronts.

Topnotch, first class clothing stores.

I walk on until I find a restaurant that overlooks the mall traffic.

I order my steak sandwich from a courteous waiter.

I ask for medium rare on the steak.

The water comes to my table as I wait with coffee.

Catalin is his name, he is 25 years old.

He tells me he will check on the steak to make sure it is not well done.

He explains that steaks here are almost always cooked well done.

I ask why.

Something about the blood and Islam”, he tells me.

He also tells me that he likes his steaks rare.

Where are you from I ask?

Romania he replies.

Why are you here?, my next question.

Like the Egyptian taxi driver I spoke to earlier, he is here seeking a better job opportunity than what is available in Romania.

Catalin has a mechanical engineering degree from the University of Transalvania in Romania

He hopes to find work as an engineer in Kuwait.

How do you like Kuwait?‚ÄöI ask.

I do not like it here”, he replies.

My personal life... zero. My social life... zero. There is nothing here for me.
I can‚t even look at the women.‚Äù

But he does.

He explains an incident where two men were taken into custody of the police at the mall where he works for trying to make conversation with two women wearing veils.

While at work, he remains professional.

He greets the women with, Hello, how are you?‚Äöor You have beautiful children.

There are nontraditional women dressed no different than women in the states.

I ask about approaching these women.

You never make the first move‚Äö he tells me.

He tells me about a time when a mother and daughter came to his restaurant.

He was able to talk with the daughter. And the daughter gave Catalin her phone number.

He called her that night and her father answered.

That was the last time he dialed that number.

He keeps an eye out, pointing out women he finds beautiful.

They are very beautiful here. Their eyes are mysterious,‚Äöhe says.

He tells me that his concentration is on his job right now but continues to looking for and finding beautiful women.

He says he has heard there are private parties with alcohol but has never been invited.

A bottle of whiskey on the black market sells for over $100 US and he says he can not afford this.

He then goes into the economy of Kuwait.

The Sheik is the boss‚ÄöCatalin says.

"They (Kuwaitis) are the kings and you are the slave" he says being an outsider.

He also tells me that you can never become a Kuwaiti citizen and if you want to marry a Kuwait woman, you need to go before a judge for approval with the family.

So why don‚Äöt you come to the States?‚ÄöI ask.

The procedure and the paper work... they kill you.‚Äöhe replies.

He also says the odds are too great, but he has a plan.

Gain three years experience with an engineering job in Kuwait and then try for a visa to the States.

He asks what I think about the war in Iraq.
I play the politician and tell him at first I was skeptical about our reason for being there and mention oil.

I also tell him that the Sunni I visited were truly happy to see the troops.

He tells me about the revolution in Romania in 1989 and how they ousted their dictator.

Ukraine did not wait for help.‚he says,‚ÄùWe did this, we made the revolution.‚implying that Iraqis should have taken care of business on their own.

He remembers the communist years in Romania.

When he was six, he began waiting in lines for bread and butter.

His father made a special trip to Bulgaria for salami which the kids took for school lunch.

At home, his family ate soup and cabbage. And on Sunday they ate meat.

He goes off to check on my steak.

It‚ going to be another five or ten minutes,‚he says. It is too dark.‚Äù

At ten years old, the revolution occurred and communism fell.

Who is it not their dream to go to the States”? he asks.

I assume correctly, being from Romania, that he is an avid chess player.

We make plans to meet in the morning to play a game of chess by the sea.

Chess has been in his family for generations.

I tell him he is going to crush me.

He tells me about different openings and attacks as if anyone can win, trying to build my confidence.

I suspect his openings and attacks will leave me with a sense of shock and awe”.

April 03, 2005

All quiet on the bunker front

My stay in Iraq would not have been complete with a trip to the bunker.

On my last night in Iraq, waiting for my flight at Camp Anacanda to Kuwait, the warning siren whales.

There is no panic in this holding tent.

Slowly, casually, the soldiers put on their body armor and kevlar helmet.

They take their time. A contract worker at the tent reminds the 50 soldiers that they must leave the tent and go to the bunker.

(Cutline for photo at right) One of many soldiers leaves the concrete bunker after the all clear siren sounds.


Bunker_1

The bunker is 20 yards from the entrance to our holding tent where troops wait for a flight.

They slowly walk to the bunker and wait for the second siren which has a pattern rather than the monotone initial warning.

Somewhere on this massive base a mortar came in.

From where I stand, I could not hear nor see any threat.

A soldier from West Virginia cites a few reasons for the leisurely approach to the bunker:

1) This camp is huge and the mortars are not.

2) They can‚Äöt aim.

3) You can hear them coming in and if need be, that is the time to jump in the bunker.

Only once did this soldier hear the whistle of a mortar overhead

He was based at Camp Summerall which just before the elections, was taking a lot of mortar fire.

The round that whistled over his head exploded about 100 yards from him causing no injuries.

Insurgents are firing less mortars at bases and instead using them for IED‚Äö, improvised explosive devices, the bombs on the roads intended for convoys.

After ten minutes the all clear siren sounds and the soldiers return back the tent and continue watching a movie.
Movie_1

Some eat MRE‚Äö, meals ready to eat, some sleep, some read.

It is all quiet on this front.

I sit back, and continue watching Anger Management‚Äöin the wide screen T.V.. with a vegetarian MRE. And no, I am not a vegetarian. The MRE is better than the movie.

So there you have it. A first hand account from a base in Iraq which took mortar fire.

I am not suggesting that the mortars are not a threat but I think soldiers actions speak louder than CNN‚Äö words.

April 01, 2005

Traveler's note

Traveler's note:

For those of you planning your next vacation in sunny Iraq, stay away from the dogs.

Stopping at house number one on the medic visit, I thought I would shoot photos of all the dogs sitting along the side of the home. One caught my eye at the back end of the home. I wandered down slowly. They did not move as I walked along.

I settled in to get my shot when this dog showed his teeth. I did not take this as a serious threat -- until he began running toward me and his buddies set out after me, too.

Running with all the weight of my interceptor body armor and cameras was not an option, so I tried to stay calm and backtrack, but these canines were making ground on me real quick.

My eyes were fixed on their teeth as they approached about 10 yards away when the man of the house stepped between me and the dogs with his arms up and the dogs stopped instantly and returned to the shade of the home.

Before we set out on this mission, we were advised to be aware of dogs, and if we're threatened, then shoot the dog.

Lesson learned. Insurgents are not the only threat here -- beware of the dogs.

 
----- EXCERPT: ----- KEYWORDS: ----- -------- AUTHOR: Nate TITLE: Robbed in Vegas STATUS: Draft ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: __default__ ALLOW PINGS: 1 DATE: 03/23/2006 07:56:48 PM ----- BODY: First I should explain: The intention of these photos is to show that while there is the glitz and glamor and sometimes wealthy throwing away their money, just down the road is poverty. It is a sharp contrast in a matter of a few blocks, like many towns. This is not to condemn the two men that robbed me but rather for those that want to visit Las Vegas and maybe stumble across my site while making plans. Just in case they don't leave their resort, or the strip, they should know where they are in this world. On with the story. (Begin soundtrack of "Bad Boys, Bad Boys, what you gonna do..?") Woke at about 6:30 a.m.on the eighth floor of the Sahara Hotel in Las Vegas this morning(03/23/2006). I set out to shoot photos on Fremont Street. I had never been there but was told I should go here for good pictures, that it was old town Las Vegas. I took a taxi from the Sahara down to Fremont Street and talked with the Taxi driver on our short ride of a couple miles. He is from Cuba where he worked I can't remember what the man did in Cuba but he told me he made $10 month. Here in Vegas he has a house and one condominium. Taxi drivers are the best for conversation. He says a doctor in Cuba makes about 300 pesos a month. So he dropped me off, I handed him a ten, which included a tip of about $2.00. vegas_372.jpg And I walk all along Fremont Street. It was lame. They have a light show called the "Main Street Experience". It all seems like a desperate attempt to be what they were before the new trendy strip grew. The structure for the light show hangs over a couple blocks of the street like scaffolding. The metal mess is just as gaudy as the town itself. You could say it is Vegas-like. So I walked on down, kept walking looking for the cowboy dude we all see when we think of old Las Vegas. I never found it, but instead found a rundown town the farther I walk down the street. Many building were abandoned. The weather was pleasant but who really cares. About seventy degrees, sunny and a bright blue sky. Enough on that. I was shooting the pictures I wanted, another face of Vegas. So then the walk back. And how I was robbed in sunny Las Vegas. ----- EXTENDED BODY: I must have walked a few miles by now (about 10:30 a.m.), opting not to take a taxi back to the hotel. I wanted to take in the sites, of which were dirty and fabricated. A lot like Wall Drug in South Dakota but much worse. A few blocks from my hotel, smoking a cigarette, I was asked for a smoke by one of two young men outside of Carl's Jr. fast food joint. I said sure. And began to hand roll a smoke. I said, "I hope you are not in a big hurry." I finished one smoke, they asked for another. With my hands occupied rolling a smoke, one man walked behind me and unclipped my hip sack. In an instant we were both sprinting through Carl's Jr. and off the beaten path. I was on his tail, it was a good run for a couple hundred yards before he neared an apartment complex that looked like trouble. I stopped and approached a few housekeepers working at a nearby motel. They saw the chase. A man gave me his cell phone to call the cops. I dialed 911 and gave my address and explained what happened before I was disconnected. Just as I was calling back, I saw a squad car arrive. It had now been about ten minutes since the crime. I was impressed with the response time. While talking with the cops, a man came up on his bike and so did a security officer. They both helped explain in detail what the men were wearing. The man on the bike apologized for not helping but I was grateful for a detailed description, and the confirmation of my description. While talking with the cops, the custodians from the motel began shouting and waving their arms. They saw the men come out from the apartment area I chased Afro Man too. I never knew what happened to corn roll man. The cops took off down the ally, denied me access to ride with so I took off running again. I caught up to a maintenance man and a couple that saw the two men. The maintenance man explained that he saw the men enter the apartment and told them to leave. The couple saw the men in a car parked outside the shady complex. The descriptions matched. The couple then showed me my hip sack lying beside a dumpster, opened and scattered. I took a a picture of my hip sack. I was relieved to see my wallet and didn't care about the missing $50. I was ready to say, drop it. The cops arrived after driving around the area asking if anyone had seen... (well I don't know what, two black men? Well of course.) They entered the apartment complex, told me to wait outside the gate. About ten minutes later an officer arrived with a man for me to identify. I said, no, I don't think that is him. Another officer showed with another man. I said no, I don't think so. Both had warrants and so they remained in cuffs. Again I took some more photos. Meanwhile, back at the hall of justice, a sergeant looked at surveillance video from a pawn shop. The sergeant called an officer and handed me the phone. He said he was on his way down and wanted to talk to me. He arrived, pulled me aside and asked if I was worried about some repercussions or if they made any threat to me. I said no. He asked if I was trying to buy drugs, again I said no. He explained that he has a clear shot of the men on video at a pawn shop across the street from Carl's Jr. where I was robbed. The pawn shop called the cop on these same two criminals for reasons I couldn't get from the cops. On another front, I gave my cell phone number to an officer and said I had yet to find it. It was clipped onto my hip sack. I asked if he could call the number near the apartment room they had taken the men from. I was not able to enter the apartment complex but he came out and told his fellow officers, "we got his phone". While I could not identify these men, of which both had changed their clothes, I was now certain that these were in fact the two men. It was now about 1:30 p.m. I was tired and had my share of sun and adventure. Here's the update: I waited to post this until after court. I decided to appear in court, with expenses paid. But the defendants did not appear. http://www.natehoward.com/vegas/1.php Las Vegas, "may you rot and burn in hell." ----- EXCERPT: ----- KEYWORDS: ----- -------- AUTHOR: Nate TITLE: Destination Wedding Photography : Nate Howard STATUS: Publish ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: __default__ ALLOW PINGS: 1 DATE: 07/11/2006 09:28:59 AM ----- BODY: About me: Nate Howard is a professional photojournalist living in Minnesota. Nate has photographed from Iraq, Kuwait, Mexico and across the United States. I am available for destination weddings, and especially interested in destination weddings in Mexico. Please take a look at my site, I think the photos there will say more about me and my work than any blog entry. You can view both color and black and white albums at www.natehoward.com Albums include Iraq, Kuwait, Mexico, Las Vegas, Calfornia, and the Midwest. bugsearch.jpg
hail.jpg
ride.jpg
----- EXTENDED BODY: Nate is a destination wedding photographer available for weddings in: Mexico, Puerto Vallarta, Cabo San Lucas, Mexico City, Sayulita, Punta Mita, Cancun, Cayman Islands. Nate is also available for weddings in Jamaica and beyond. Contact Nate for a quote on your wedding. ----- EXCERPT: About me: Nate Howard is a professional photojournalist living in Minnesota. Nate has photographed from Iraq, Kuwait, Mexico and across the United States. I am available for destination weddings, and especially interested in destination weddings in Mexico. Please take a look at my site, I think the photos there will say more about me and my work than any blog entry. You can view both color and black and white albums at www.natehoward.com Albums include Iraq, Kuwait, Mexico, Las Vegas, Calfornia, and the Midwest. ----- KEYWORDS: ----- -------- AUTHOR: Nate TITLE: To Mexico by www.natehoward.com STATUS: Draft ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: __default__ ALLOW PINGS: 1 DATE: 11/28/2006 09:07:24 AM ----- BODY: On Thursday I leave for Mexico. San Jose del Cabo to be exact. Here I will photograph a wedding. A couple from Berkley California hired me to document their wedding and I could not be more pleased than to work with a couple who appreciate my pictures. There is very little about San Jose on the internet yet pages of information on Cabo San Lucas, about 30 miles away. I respect that the bride and groom opted for San Jose over Cabo. No doubt there will be many Americans in San Jose but this is an authentic town, on the southern tip of Baja. Spaniards arrived in the 1730's. Of course Natives were first on the scene. Then arrived the righteous crusaders on a mission from God. The native Indians burned the missions after the Jesuit priest condemned polygamy. boysurfmexico.jpg I've scoured the internet to find some local flavor but so much is about the fine cuisine, the hotels... I hope to dig up some more authentic Mexico, maybe even native culture and share this with pictures. And if I can't find the pictures I want, I will strip naked except for a swath wrapped around my crotch, and ride bareback on a black stallion along the breaking waves of the Sea of Cortes. http://www.natehoward.com/mexico/1.php ----- EXTENDED BODY: ----- EXCERPT: ----- KEYWORDS: ----- -------- AUTHOR: Nate TITLE: Coming soon... Sweden, Finland and Russia in July 2007 STATUS: Publish ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: __default__ ALLOW PINGS: 1 DATE: 03/16/2007 08:48:36 PM ----- BODY: Plans are in the works for Nate to photograph in Sweden, Finland and Russia July, 2007. Stay tuned... www.natehoward.com ----- EXTENDED BODY: ----- EXCERPT: ----- KEYWORDS: ----- -------- AUTHOR: Nate TITLE: San Jose Del Cabo is Posted STATUS: Publish ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: __default__ ALLOW PINGS: 1 DATE: 05/08/2007 10:11:06 AM ----- BODY: We interrupt this program to bring you the latest in Nate Howard's black and white, documentary photography from Mexico. Visit Nate's home page www.natehoward.com to see photographs from yet another endangered culture on the southern tip of Baja Mexico. Notice in the image with the boy kicking the soccer ball the mega-resorts being constructed along the beach. mxsoccer.jpg As for the town square, Mexican life is strong. It is in Cabo San Lucas, thirty miles away where the Americans have conquered the culture and land but the development is well underway in San Jose Del Cabo as well. Coming in the summer of 2007... Nate shoots Sweden, Iceland and Russia. Stay tuned! ----- EXTENDED BODY: These photos were shot in December 2005 on Kodak CN black and white film with a Leica M6 and 35mm lens. ----- EXCERPT: ----- KEYWORDS: ----- -------- AUTHOR: Nate TITLE: Sweden, Finland and Russia are Posted STATUS: Publish ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: __default__ ALLOW PINGS: 1 DATE: 07/23/2007 02:25:19 PM ----- BODY: Visit Nate's home page www.natehoward.com to see three new albums, titled Sweden, Finland and Russia. russiapictures.jpg These photos were taken in July 2007. Most of the pictures come from Stockholm, Sweden, Helsink, Finland and Saint Petersburg Russia. ----- EXTENDED BODY: Photography from Russia, Finland and Sweden by Nate Howard. These photos were taken on the Olympus C-7070 digital camera. ----- EXCERPT: ----- KEYWORDS: ----- -------- AUTHOR: Nate TITLE: The Bakery and Coffee Bar of Flandreau, South Dakota STATUS: Publish ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: __default__ ALLOW PINGS: 1 DATE: 07/23/2007 05:17:46 PM ----- BODY: One of those places you just happen across and without knowing it somehow changes your life forever. That is the Bakery and Coffee Bar of Flandreau, South Dakota. To be experienced...www.natehoward.com flandreausouthdakota.jpg ----- EXTENDED BODY: ----- EXCERPT: ----- KEYWORDS: ----- -------- AUTHOR: Nate TITLE: Photography Trumps Reality STATUS: Publish ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: __default__ ALLOW PINGS: 1 DATE: 12/14/2007 07:59:16 AM ----- BODY: www.natehoward.com Man depends on sight primarily. Second is hearing. Here are some paraphrased ideas from Roger Fry: san_pancho_mexico1.jpg With admirable economy we learn to see only as much as needed for our purposes, which is very little. Just enough to recognize and identify an object or person. They are an entry made in our mental catalogue and are no more really seen. It is only when an object exists in our lives for no other reason or purpose than to be seen that we really look at it. Photography does not demand a response in action or create a physical change in the body but replaces chaos with order for the psyche. Emotion presented in a picture may not be as effective as reality but projects itself more distinctly with clarity into the consciousness. san_pancho_mx2.jpg The viewer can have a detached point of view, a disinterested intensity of contemplation not available in reality. A picture is more real than reality because of conditions in humans that prevent us from seeing plainly and precisely when we are in a state of mental unrest. The eye can see the picture with a selective and calm perspective, more information is gathered. san_paancho_mx3.jpg Seeing is visual shorthand where a picture allows all the details. The skill of the artist is a superior perception and more sensitive reaction to his environment. For the photographer, he shoots from artistic instinct. An innate urge to self express because he believes the way he sees is unique and important. ----- EXTENDED BODY: ----- EXCERPT: ----- KEYWORDS: ----- -------- AUTHOR: Nate TITLE: Subway Sandwich with 2 Olives and 2 Pickles STATUS: Draft ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: __default__ ALLOW PINGS: 1 PRIMARY CATEGORY: Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da CATEGORY: Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da DATE: 12/20/2007 05:23:28 PM ----- BODY: Dear Subway, Thank you for producing an affordable meal that is easy on the fat. I especially enjoy your tuna and seafood sandwiches. I write you today to express a concern regarding the lack of vegetables on my sandwich. On the six inch seafood I had 2 olive slices and 2 pickle slices when I requested "the works". subway72.jpg It seems the sandwich artists are increasingly hasty in their art. I would appreciate quality over quantity (or speed) and a reasonable amount of vegetables on my sandwich. Thank you for your attention to this matter. Happy Holiday's Nate Howard ----- EXTENDED BODY: From: Date: 20 Dec 2007 18:34:38 -0500 To: Subject: Customer Service Form Confirmation from Subway.com Dear Mr. Howard, Thank you for taking the time to contact SUBWAY. We appreciate you taking the time to share your comments. Someone will be in touch with you in 7 to 10 business days. Many thanks, Subway Customer Care Team ----- EXCERPT: ----- KEYWORDS: ----- -------- AUTHOR: Nate TITLE: Photojournalist to Kosovo STATUS: Publish ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: __default__ ALLOW PINGS: 1 DATE: 02/07/2008 08:58:56 AM ----- BODY: I am off to Kosovo this February, 2008, to photograph Kosovo's declaration of independence. I will also be in Skopje Macedonia and make a stop at Camp Bondsteel (Bond-Steel) the U.S. Military base in Kosovo. If you are seeking photographs from Kosovo, please email me, nate@natehoward.com. For more information about Kosovo, attached is an article from Reuters, by Fatos Bytyci. ----- EXTENDED BODY: PRISTINA, Serbia, Feb 6 (Reuters) - The Kosovo Philharmonic is rehearsing for the biggest performance in its short history, Beethoven's Ode to Joy. Only the concert date has yet to be set. "We have signs it will happen in days," said orchestra director Baki Jashari. "We'll be ready on the 15th." Guessing the date when Kosovo Albanians declare independence from Serbia is the biggest game in town right now. Hotels are full of foreign journalists and television crews, while the Organisation for Security and Cooperation in Europe has told staff to steer clear of "happy shooting" on the big day, whenever it is. "I'm so excited to be alive right now, that I can play on the big day," said Jashari. "We will certainly play the European anthem (Ode to Joy) on independence day." The windows of the rehearsal hall were open and people in the streets stopped to listen. They have yet to hear Kosovo's own national anthem. Backed by the West but opposed by Russia, the breakaway Serbian province is within weeks, and possibly days, of declaring independence almost nine years after NATO went to war to save its Albanian majority. One Kosovo newspaper told gamblers this week to bet on Feb. 17 and the Gallery of Arts is putting the final touches to an "Independence" exhibition. Mother Theresa Street, which leads to the parliament building where the declaration will be read, is a fine pedestrian corso, paved with imported Chinese granite and lined with trees and benches. The buildings either side have been given a fresh coat of paint to stand out from the grey concrete that fills much of the dusty capital. FLAG AND SYMBOLS Still run by the United Nations, Kosovo is without an anthem or a state flag and symbols, and its Albanians prefer the black-on-red double-headed eagle of neighbouring Albania. That flag was carried into battle by guerrillas of the Kosovo Liberation Army who battled Serb forces under late strongman Slobodan Milosevic in 1998-99 to end a decade of repression. It flies from state buildings and homes across the province but is deemed inappropriate by Western powers who want an 'ethnic neutral' flag that won't offend Kosovo's 120,000 Serbs. More than 1,500 proposals for the flag and emblem have been submitted, and judges have narrowed the choice down to three. "Ethnic prejudice would not be fair," said Fadil Hysaj, head of the commission deciding on the symbols. The flag should be simple enough for a six-year-old child to draw and should represent Kosovo as a whole, he said. Mentor Shala and Besnik Nuli, ethnic Albanians, are among the finalists and proposed a Kosovo map in white on a blue background, surrounded by five stars. Shala said the biggest star would represent Albanians, who account for 90 percent of Kosovo's 2 million people. "Our flag should win because it represents the reality in Kosovo and all the people who live in Kosovo," he said. (Editing by Matt Robinson and Robert Woodward) ----- EXCERPT: ----- KEYWORDS: ----- -------- AUTHOR: Nate TITLE: Kosovo and Kosova STATUS: Publish ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: __default__ ALLOW PINGS: 1 DATE: 02/19/2008 04:43:00 PM ----- BODY: The coffee in Kosovo, or Kosava as Albanians spell the name of the world's newest country, is fantastic. More to come when I find time and can gather what I think. ----- EXTENDED BODY: ----- EXCERPT: ----- KEYWORDS: ----- -------- AUTHOR: Nate TITLE: Gjilan Kosovo STATUS: Publish ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: __default__ ALLOW PINGS: 1 DATE: 02/21/2008 07:59:33 AM ----- BODY: Today was a great day as a photojournalist visiting the school in Shurdahn Kosovo. The school is located in the mountains outside of Gjilan, near the border of Serbia and Macedonia, or more precisely outside the village of Zegra, Kosovo. I photographed students in Biology and Albanian language classes as well as at recess. I also visited with American soldiers from Minnesota who visit the school once or twice a week, helping with some maintenance of the school and also with Englsih lessons. The students were excited to see me, standing as I (or the teacher) enters the class. They say hello, one boys says, "What's Up?" They are all learning English and some were eager to practice the language. I also visited with the school director and on this day, the inspectors from the Kosovar governement were visiting. With help from the English teacher, she translated. They made Turkish coffee for all, including myself, and offered cigarettes and cookies. The school is in bad condition and in need of repair. The governement wants to close it but the director, of 26 years, says no, they need this school. There is no other school in the area. So it remains open and with heat from wood burning stoves in each class and water stained ceilings and walls, education continues. At recess the children play soccer. It is madness. These children, both boys and girls are tough. The boys also like to arm wrestle. They have two ten minute breaks, and 15 minutes for lunch. Most children do not bring any food and none is offered at the school. There are two school sessions. The morning students attend from 7:40 AM to 1:40 PM then another shift of students arrive. I travelled by bus from Gjilan to Zegra, then took a taxi to Shurdahn. Shurdahn was all Albanian people however, in Gjilian there are some Serbians. As an American it is almost impossible to recognize the difference. Albanians can see the difference in the face. I hope tomorrow to visit with Alabnians. I will stay tonight in Gjilan. My favorite town in Kosovo, not as big as Prishtina and I feel the locals are more connected, a more intimate town. I am shooting film and will have a roll processed today and a CD made from the roll. I will post a couple photos tonight. My health is well and I feel respected. Tomorrow I meet with an Albanian translator and learn more about the town of Gjilan where he is from. -END ----- EXTENDED BODY: Kosovo, photography, photojournalist, Independence, Prishtina, Pristina, Gjilan, Zegra. ----- EXCERPT: ----- KEYWORDS: ----- -------- AUTHOR: Nate TITLE: At last a CD ROM STATUS: Publish ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: __default__ ALLOW PINGS: 1 DATE: 02/21/2008 03:40:24 PM ----- BODY: Next time you are in Gjilan, Kosovo, I suggest the Viskinet internet cafe. They have CD Rom drives in the computers. So I will attach some photos from Gjilan, the town, and Shurdahn School. cards.JPG chess.JPG hanshelp.JPG soccer.JPG More to come, I will wait to process more film when I return to Minnesota. ----- EXTENDED BODY: ----- EXCERPT: ----- KEYWORDS: ----- -------- AUTHOR: Nate TITLE: 9, 10... Home Again STATUS: Publish ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: __default__ ALLOW PINGS: 1 DATE: 02/29/2008 11:34:58 PM ----- BODY: I am back from my visit to Kosovo. I need some time (maybe a few days) to edit and will let you know as soon as I post. ----- EXTENDED BODY: ----- EXCERPT: ----- KEYWORDS: ----- -------- AUTHOR: Nate TITLE: Kosovo or Kosova Photography Is Posted STATUS: Publish ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: __default__ ALLOW PINGS: 1 DATE: 03/08/2008 08:42:54 PM ----- BODY: If you would like to have a look at my photographs from Kosovo, simply go to my home page. There are five albums which can be accessed from the home page. Enjoy and thanks for visiting. www.natehoward.com ----- EXTENDED BODY: These photographs were made on Fuji Pro 400 and Kodak CN BW 400. Cameras include the Canon F1N and Leica M6. ----- EXCERPT: ----- KEYWORDS: ----- -------- AUTHOR: Nate TITLE: Mitrovica Kosovo and the Media Theatre STATUS: Publish ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: __default__ ALLOW PINGS: 1 DATE: 03/18/2008 01:45:07 PM ----- BODY: www.natehoward.com In this corner (the north of Kosovo) weighing in with some blabber from Russia... the Serbs of Mitrovica. mitrovicahserbs.jpg And in this corner (the south part of Mitrovica) weighing in with the powder puff, marshmallow tossing U.N. and NATO... the Albanian Kosovars. mitrovicahbridge.jpg Folks, it looks like this could go many rounds as the U.N. team is showing amazing stamina with assistance from many coaches and trainers at their side. And for the Serbs, well, they have only one coach in the corner who I can't imagine really gives a shit about 30,000 Serbs in southern Serbia, or Northern Kosova, or Kosovo, but as a matter of showing their oily muscles they are propelling the hope of the passionate Serbs. mitrovicahbox.jpg And in the middle of the ring, the media. The tight pictures of the theatrics performed just for us. And another flag (the U.N.'s) is burned, which took a while and it seemed to be made of a flame resistant material. mitrovicahflagburn.jpg But then the younger crowd appeared and dressed as angel, one man delivers a white box labeled, "Pandora's Box". More creative but did they have to take a line from Russia? It is quit a show folks, yet ticket sales are down as the U.S. is hosting the popular show at this time. The match between Hillary and Obama, and some mention of a John McCain? Whoever he is? With some violence on the Kosovo/Serbia front, it seems more spectators are arriving. ----- EXTENDED BODY: ----- EXCERPT: ----- KEYWORDS: ----- -------- AUTHOR: Nate TITLE: Nate Howard Site Map. If you wish to "Search" or "Find" STATUS: Publish ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: __default__ ALLOW PINGS: 1 PRIMARY CATEGORY: Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da CATEGORY: Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da DATE: 06/02/2008 02:46:17 PM ----- BODY: The site map of www.natehoward.com ----- EXTENDED BODY:
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----- EXCERPT: ----- KEYWORDS: ----- -------- AUTHOR: Nate TITLE: Spillville Iowa as photographed by Nate Howard STATUS: Publish ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: 0 ALLOW PINGS: 1 DATE: 08/26/2008 02:16:24 PM ----- BODY: Nothing fancy here.
Spillville, Iowa is a small town in northeast Iowa. If a tourist comes to town, they will visit the Bily's Clock Museum featuring hand carved wooden clocks by two bachelor farming brothers.
In the same building as the museum is where Antonín Dvořák lived with his family. The great composer from Prague, then New York City, wanted to listen to the birds again.
He spent the summer of 1893 with his family in the Czech-speaking community of Spillville, Iowa, to which some of his cousins had earlier immigrated. While there he composed the String Quartet in F (the "American"), and the String Quintet in E flat, as well as a Sonatina for violin and piano.

To Spillville, Iowa Photographs ----- EXTENDED BODY: ----- EXCERPT: ----- KEYWORDS: ----- -------- AUTHOR: Nate TITLE: Nate's Photography from Kosovo at New Kosova Report STATUS: Publish ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: __default__ ALLOW PINGS: 1 DATE: 10/07/2008 10:51:23 AM ----- BODY: As a photographer, to lose myself and open my sensitivity to this foreign land allowed me to practice my passion in a most ideal situation.With no deadline or need to illustrate ‘the story’, I was able to photograph from feelings alone. I went to Kosovo to learn about myself in photographing others. I found affirmation in my practice and belief in photography.
  • Nate Howard featured at New Kosova Report
  • ----- EXTENDED BODY: ----- EXCERPT: ----- KEYWORDS: ----- -------- AUTHOR: Nate TITLE: New Photography Albums of Nate Howard STATUS: Publish ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: __default__ ALLOW PINGS: 1 DATE: 01/30/2009 10:04:50 PM ----- BODY: Recent photography albums posted at Nate Howard Photography (http://www.natehoward.com) include: Picture 1.png Mexico and Mexico City: To Mexico Photographs Picture 4.png Washington D.C. (District of Columbia): To Washington, D.C. Photographs Picture 3.png And my home town of Austin, Minnesota 55912: To Austin, Minn. Photographs I've also created a client list which can be found at my "About" page: To "About" page Thanks for visiting. ----- EXTENDED BODY: ----- EXCERPT: ----- KEYWORDS: Nate Howard Photography, Washington D.C., District of Columbia, Austin Minnesota, 55912, Mexico and Mexico City in Pictures. ----- --------

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