Every day in Baghdad, at least a dozen bodies are found scattered across the capital. Sometimes they are decapitated and other times they show signs of torture. On bad days, like earlier this week, a mass grave of 60 bodies was found in a clearing.

Sometimes, this place seems devoid of life.

But Iraqis, like everyone else in the world, are human. They find ways to survive and find joy in times of chaos and prolonged danger. They have a reputation in the Arab world as being the toughest kids on the block. Hopefully they'll tough this one out, too.

There is a saying here: "En'shallah" -- it means God-willing. It's often heard on the lips of Iraqis around here. En'shallah, your trip will go safe today. En'shallah, we will get that interview. En'shallah, the government will not fall apart.

And there are plenty of examples that, en'shallah, life will be normal one day:

There is a 13-year-old kid who lives here in the hotel along with his mother (who is one of our Iraqi journalists) and his sister. He likes playing on his handheld PS2 and is always hanging out with our drivers and security staffers, most of whom are twice his age. He's the sociable type. He doesn't mind wearing the same shirt for a few days in a row. I spent a good part of last night playing card tricks with him.

A few nights ago, Wassam (the security staffer) and one of the drivers and I went down to the outdoor hotel pool to hang out. It was about 9:30 and the sun had set. I didn't feel nervous being outside since there were a handful of other people at the pool, too. We sat on plastic chairs and sipped drinks for a few minutes. Then the kid showed up with his goggles and funky-looking nose plug. It wasn't long before Wassam and the driver had him by the arms and legs, playfully pulling him toward the pool. He was swung back and forth and thrown in.

Later, we all got in the pool, overturned some plastic chairs and put them near the edges of the pool, and started a game of water polo. The kid and I took on Wassam and the driver. We lost 3-2, but it was a great time. To see us goofing off like we were, you would never have known that there was a bloody war going on just outside the hotel compound's walls. I don't remember hearing any gunshots or low-flying helicopters that night. Maybe there were, but I wasn't paying attention to them.

Later, I was chatting with Kevin, our British security guard, about how easy it is to feel safe at the pool when there's a bunch of other people hanging out having fun, too. I contrasted that with my time a few mornings ago hanging out on the balcony. I had scrambled back inside after hearing gunshots. I asked Kevin: One place isn't necessarily more dangerous than the other, is it?

"No, it's not," he said. "But everything here is en'shallah."