A man stands outside with a yellow towel in his hand. He says something in Arabic and passes me the towel. Then he walks past me into the room. I follow. He shows me where the soap is, what the toothbrush mug is for, how the drawers are pulled out, the curtains closed and the door to the terrace shut. I smile and thank him. The man remains on the spot. I find some newly changed notes. He thanks me and leaves. A few minutes later there is another knock on the door. This time he is carrying a loo roll. I give him a few more notes. He smiles and nods and disappears down the corridor. Thus evolves our way of socialising. As soon as I return to my room I know what will happen. "Said" will turn up with something or other - a towel, a piece of soap, an extra blanket. Nothing is replenished while I'm out, but on my return there is a knock on the door.
Asne Seierstad, A Hundred and One Days: A Baghdad Journal.