Megan Greenwell, BC ’06 and the 129th editor in chief of Spectator, just returned from an 11-week stay in Baghdad as a Washington Post reporter.
You graduated from college just over a year ago. What was it like to go to Baghdad as a Post reporter?
It was intense. I mean, as best I could tell I was the youngest reporter there at the time, and I think I’m the youngest western reporter ever to go—so it was kind of bizarre. The Post bureau chief isn’t that old—he just turned 40—but he’s reported from every war zone in the past 15 years. So I’m working in this bureau where it’s mostly him and me, and the dichotomy just made me feel like I was totally unqualified to be there.
Who was the most striking person you interviewed in Baghdad?
I interviewed a man who had just sold his house in Baghdad and moved to Damascus [Syria]. It was a house that his grandfather and father had built together, and when his father was on his deathbed his son promised he would never sell it because it was his childhood home. I was asking about the house and I wanted him to describe it physically—how many floors, what kind of rooms, etc.—and he just couldn’t do it. He was breaking down. It was striking to me because it makes you realize how much this war has affected the tiniest little things that become the biggest things. That was really a turning point for how I was thinking about writing about the war. It’s easy to think about the big things, like ‘Suicide Bomber Kills 50 People,’ but I think the best journalism in Baghdad has gotten into these smaller parts of life.
What was the security like?
We traveled either with the military or with a convoy, so we were protected by body guards and armored cars. There were many neighborhoods of Baghdad where we just couldn’t go under any circumstances. It’s the most frustrating thing for a journalist not to be able to move around.
How did Iraqis react to American journalists?
To my surprise, a lot of people just loved the opportunity to get to tell their story, whether it was inspiring or just totally tragic. They wanted to tell someone. And they had heard of our newspaper and thought it was so cool that I wanted to talk to them.
I think being a young woman helps in a lot of respects; talking to women was great because they wanted to adopt me and take me off as their daughter and marry me off to their sons and oh, I’m too skinny, and so on. Talking to men sometimes was challenging, but being a female journalist talking to men was much easier than being a male journalist talking to women.
Most terrifying moment?
One of the guys who guards our compound was shot—that was pretty frightening because none of us could figure out if they were trying to get into the compound because they knew Americans were there. It was a relatively sleepless night because we didn’t know if they were coming back. Iraqis who work for Americans are very often targeted, and to be able to kidnap an American would be a pretty big deal for some of these insurgent groups.
Did you pick up any Arabic?
No. Although—I spent a couple days in Amman [Jordan] and in a mall I was mistaken for Jordanian. I managed to have an incredibly simplistic conversation in Arabic, and it was the best day ever. But the Arabic I picked up could fit on a notebook page. I learned how to say “I am a journalist” in case I got kidnapped.
Did you learn how to operate a gun?
That was informal. Our security chief thinks that every woman should know how to use a gun, whether you’re in Baghdad or D.C. or in the middle of Kansas. While I didn’t get on board fully with this plan, he gave me lessons on aiming and safety, and he’d time me on how quickly I could load and unload a magazine. That was kind of my fun leisure activity. But I’ve never fired a gun—I want to be very clear on that.
What are your plans now?
I will be going back to my education reporting job in Maryland at the moment, and I will be interested to pursue other opportunities within the Post at some point in the relatively near future. I actually really like education reporting even though it’s not as sexy as war reporting. There’s something very rewarding about it ... school stories are always important. I find if fulfilling in a different way.
Would you go back?
Yes. It really gets into you. Part of it is just the adrenaline of covering this huge story—and what’s dangerous is also sort of exciting. You can never really feel like your work there is finished because there are more angles everywhere you look. I left with at least 15 more stories off the top of my head that I could have written, but I just ran out of time. If the opportunity arose I would go back pretty much in a heartbeat.
Daniella Zalcman can be reached at daniella.zalcman@columbiaspectator.com.

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