So...this one day I was walking to MWR from the PX, and I pass behind the FPS building. (I apologize for the acronyms, Morale, Welfare, Recreation, Post Exchange, and I don't now what FPS stands for, force protection something or other). I pass these guys having a barbeque. I'm not quite sure what it is, but it looks disgusting. They see me passing by and they call me over. I'm guessing they did, because it was in arabic and I couldn't understand, obviously. One of them in broken English offers me some of what they're cooking (at this point I figure it to be small rodents). I went with my first instinct, and said no, going against all the cultural awareness briefings we had so far. I was expecting shocked looks on their face, but to my relief I don't think they understood a word I had said. In that case, I figured I'd hang around for a bit and shoot the breeze the best I could with the one that spoke English. At one point he started telling me about his house, and I think he may have invited me to it. That was enough for me, and I started getting nervous. It's considered not nice to refuse stuff in Iraqi culture. I took some pictures with them and figured I had better be on my way. (This had happened when I first got in-country, I just now figured out how to tell the story with the pictures.)