Culture clash! Iraqis train with Americans

A few days ago I attached myself to some of our firefighters so I could write an article about their interaction with the Iraqis. The American troops are tasked to train the Iraqis how to be autonomous. But often progress is slow because there’s a cultural disconnect. We in the military make up mostly Type ‘A’ personalities. When we have a job to do, we’re focused on getting it done – by the book. It’s all business for us. The Middle Eastern culture is more emotional. They’re big on building relationships before doing business. With that in mind, the situation that unfolded from our training was both amusing and thought provoking. Here’s what happened:

We arrived early on the Iraqis’ side of the base ready to do business. When we pulled up, they invited us inside their quarters. So we walked in and made their acquaintance. However, we noticed all the Iraqis were sitting around a table (and some on the floor) with tea cups. They weren’t ready to train – and I could tell our fire chief was irritated.

After much Iraqi insistence, our chief agreed to sit with them and drink tea. Our scheduled training time was one hour, but already 15 minutes had gone by with us just talking to them about unrelated topics. Talk was slow because everything had to go through a translator. Most of it was pointless flattery.

Finally, they agreed to get started. As we were walking toward the fire trucks, one of the Iraqis started speaking Arabic. The translator said to the chief, “They want you to meet their commander.” “How long will this take?” said our chief in an elevated tone. Through the translator, the Iraqi firefighter said “We have time – the day is new.”

Reluctantly, the chief decided to meet their commander. As we stepped in the Iraqi’s office I saw a table set up, adorned with fresh tea and tea cups. “Have some tea with me,” said the Iraqi officer. Our chief was barely holding on.

After we got through the unscheduled hour of tea, we headed out toward the flightline where an aircraft was parked for the training event. Our firefighters set up a scenario to test the ability of the Iraqi firefighters. We simulated a fire on a C-130 (large cargo aircraft). Part of the scenario included two unconscious pilots in the cockpit. The Iraqis were to drive up in fire trucks, put out the fire, and climb up to the cockpit to rescue the pilots.

For realistic purposes, our firefighters always use live people to play the role of unconscious pilots. Now, the C-130 cockpit is about 10 feet above the ground, so for safety purposes, we only required the Iraqis to remove the pilot from the seat, but not down the ladder. Carrying a live body down the ladder is dangerous and only practiced with a life-like dummy. For some reason, this bit of information did not make it through the translator to the Iraqis.

So the exercise began and the Iraqis barreled into the aircraft. The cockpit was crowded. There were two Americans playing unconscious pilots, two Iraqi rescue men, and myself (I was taking photos).

The Iraqis grabbed the first guy, whose name was Vance, and forcefully ripped him out of the seat. But instead of releasing him, they continued toward the exit hatch. They were carrying Vance belly up, with his head forward. The first Iraqi was holding Vance by the armpits and the Iraqi in back had his legs. As they moved toward the hatch, Vance suddenly animated himself and said, “Okay, that’s good. Put me down.” But they ignored him. The translator wasn’t there and these guys were playing serious.

“That’s enough, let me go!” Vance repeated, raising his voice a few octaves. He got a response in Arabic this time, but it didn’t sound friendly.

At this point the first Iraqi, who had Vance’s forward end, was mounting the ladder. Vance’s head was beginning to dip downward as his legs elevated above his torso. His voice quickly became unintelligible and high pitched and he was squirming like a cat avoiding a dunk in the toilet. He sounded like a greased pig behind a megaphone. I could hear our guys outside laughing at him.



The following seconds were a little hazy for me because I was doubled over laughing too. Vance was screaming like a little girl, but the two Iraqis just gripped harder and said things in Arabic that sounded like hard-core expletives. I’m not sure what the words were, but I doubt they would’ve used them in front of grandma.

The Iraqis finally got Vance down safely, but when they turned around to get the second victim, they found him standing there outside the aircraft with a smile. “I woke up,” he said. The Iraqis seemed disappointed they only got to rescue one guy. But we all had a great time making fun of Vance.

After thinking back on this, I realized how our different cultures caused such a clash. We Americans are big on business and safety to preserve individual life. The people of the Middle East seem to place more importance on sociality and community. In their minds, it’s okay to lose the lives of a few to benefit the whole. They see death as a rite of passage. We see death as a tragedy. They see us as worldly when we celebrate the individual; we see them as barbaric when they recruit people for suicide. Both of us need adjustments in these areas – they represent extremes of ideals gone corrupt. In the west we should learn to value community more, because it promotes selflessness. In the Middle East they should learn to value the individual more, because we are all created with intrinsic value.

Whatever the answer is, I’m no philosopher, or even a leader, so I’ll stick to what I know: praying for understanding, and a loving heart. That, I believe, is a good start in this world. As for Vance, he said that was the last time he’ll train with the Iraqis. I told him they were probably calling him a sissy.