Scenes of Baghdad: A Photo Essay
Life Among War

        War has become part of life in Baghdad. It colors every experience and every day with thunderous noises and acrid smells. Still, people keep going, try to find their way, and keep as versatile as possible until the next day.
        From a foreign photographer’s point of view, it’s almost an impossible city to work in. Writers can gather information, but photographers, by nature, have to be out on scene.
        Virtually every image the American public sees from Iraq was either taken by someone traveling with the armed forces, or by an Iraqi. Local photographers do the best job. The simple reason for this is that any foreigner showing their face on the street for even a minute runs an incredibly high risk of being killed or kidnapped. Everyone there tells me to forget it, that it simply doesn’t work. I have to admit that they’re right. Still, I don’t want to give up.
        Walking outside is nearly a surefire suicide mission, and usually nets no pictures. I’ve recently had some luck slipping out unnoticed at night. This is a valuable experience and gives me insight, but I return with no photos to speak of.
        To get out into the city, I hire an unafraid driver I can trust, and count on the fact that nobody would even expect me to venture out unguarded. First I take a deep breath and put on a hat. Then, the trick is to stay focused, keep my eyes open, do anything my driver says, and keep moving fast.
        Jumping out of cars for quick shots is a recipe for terrible photos, and most that I take in Baghdad are just that. It’s important to me, so I keep trying, and I attempt to bring back a few that show what life is like for people in this beautiful, horrible city.

Men walk past the Khulani Mosque in central Baghdad, two days after 87 people were killed
there in a car bombing.

A sickly infant is sprawled on the tile floor, put there by his father to cool his body on a
hot night with no power.

A man lets his many pigeons out to fly around the city. In Iraq, people bet on the
birds' navigational skill.

People listen to poetry about human rights at an event kept low-profile for fear of violent reprisal.

In a downtown shopping centern, an art gallery filled with work by
local artisans waits for customers.

A young girl plays near her house, amongst concrete and razor wire.

A merchant stocks his small vegetable shop in Baghdad's Karrada district,
once a safe haven from car bombings.

Minutes after a mortar attack, helicopters pass overhead.

A little girl sits with her mother at a medical clinic in downtown Baghdad.

Boys sit at the edge of the Tigris River. Once brimming with small fishing boats,
it is now where murdered corpses are often found.

Fish prepared the traditional Baghdadi way. Until recent years, it was served
into the wee hours of the night, at outdoor cafes.

A shy child plays near his mother.

A young man sits guard as a policeman, one of Iraq's most dangerous jobs.

A woman carries scrap steel rods from a bombing site.