The Governors residence was a strange combination of fortress and palace. Blast proof concrete walls surrounded a group of buildings. The official residence was a three story building built around a central courtyard with a fountain. Parts of the building were offices, but other parts served more ceremonial functions. We were directed to “The West Room”. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling and there was a live band at one end playing music. Perhaps one hundred and fifty people were milling about.

A waiter passed nearby with a tray of champagne glasses. I took two and offered one to Rashida.

“I’m sorry,” she said as she placed her hand on the one holding the glass. “I don’t drink alcohol.”

“Why not?” I inquired.

“It’s against my religion”, she said in a soft voice.

“I didn’t know you were religious”.

“There’s a lot about me you don’t know.” Then she smiled, “Not yet.”

The music halted and an announcement was made.

“Ladies and gentlemen, The honorable Dr. Salah Abdel-Razzaq, Governor of Baghdad.”