I was walking down the stairs today to begin work when I noticed a smell; sort of an ethnic smell. I hadn't even hit the second floor landing when I caught the scent. It reminded me of times I had gone over to someone's house whose parents were first generation immigrants and still cooked their native foods regularly. Almost like curry or some other sort of spicy flavored meat. "What in the world are they cooking down there?" I thought. We don't have any cooking facilities in the building but there is a hot pot so perhaps they were preparing something with that.

I got down to the first floor and realized what the smell was. Over by the main entrance was a table with ten or twelve Iraqis sitting around it interviewing for jobs as interpreters on post. They hadn't been cooking anything - it was the Iraqis themselves I was smelling.

I had been told that Iraqis don't have the same personal hygiene standards as Americans but this was a first for me. When you can be smelled two floors away, perhaps it's time for that weekly bath whether you think you need it or not.