In which I continue to eat my way across the Arab world

Like magic, the food appears.

Daddy needs a smoke.

The 4th, Iraqi style.

ABU SAYDA, Iraq - We show up unannounced at 6 a.m. and are welcomed with a smile and packs of cigarettes.

It's July, so the work day is split between the bearable hours - early morning and late evening. In between few Iraqis move, let alone do business and I don't blame them. It's hard to think, let alone be productive when it's 120 (power being intermittent, you can't count on the air conditioning).

It makes for a brutal patrol schedule, with 4:30 a.m. wake-ups to get on the road at 5.

The local leader of the Sons of Iraq, a group made up largely of former Sunni miilitants who have turned against the insurgency, brings out chairs, for the soldiers and me and sits down. Then, as always, the food starts magically appearing. First tea, then a hearty Arab breakfast of German cigarettes, fried eggs, potatoes, cucumbers, onions, and piping hot samoon (flatbread).

Of course, the magic producing the feast are the household's women, nearly always unseen, toiling in the kitchen.

What struck me about the SOI leader in the photo was how patient he was with his kids. He was discussing pretty serious business with the soldiers (basically saying, 'Please don't go or we're screwed') and his daughters were chasing each other around the table, placing a bird chick next to the food (I have no idead where it came from), and one daughter knocked over a full ashtray no less than three times. The dude never lost his temper (or his cigarette), though, and just kept right on going.

There's a popular myth that Arabs place a lower value on human life, don't care about their kids, only respect force, etc. It's how people too lazy to consider the complexities of the Middle East explain the region's problems (and their own excesses).

My Fourth of July was going to spent at the air terminal, but my flight was canceled (one of many such cancelations to come). When I stopped by the public affairs office to check in an interpreter from Baghdad I've gotten to know (His quote: "I've got no problem with Jews - I met a major once who was Jewish and I liked him.") walked by with several pounds of meat, skewers, and a look of determination in his face. He said he would be mortally offended if I didn't stick around and eat and I was happy to oblige.

A plate full of barbecued meat skewers and flat bread later we were in the midst of an Iraqi -style Fourth not terribly different than its American cousin - copious amounts of barbecue and bullshitting.