Victory Day

Tomorrow is Victory Day here in Afghanistan.  What does that mean?  Well…Mujahideen Victory Day is a political holiday observed in parts of Afghanistan, falling on the 28^th of April each year.  It commemorates the day when Mujahideen rebel forces overthrew Mohammad Najibullah's Democratic Republic of Afghanistan in 1992.  It is celebrated mostly by former warlords and their followers, such as the Northern Alliance.  Other Afghans are against celebrating the day because it marks the start of civil war, and the fact that the Mujahideen were not only Afghans but included men from over 50 Islamic nations around the Muslim world.

I had a very interesting thought today.  If the Taliban were to become decent, honest people, this country would have one hell of a security force.  Think about it, they fund themselves, organize themselves, train themselves, and execute missions both individually and as a unit.  If they focused inward on improving and securing their country instead of killing everyone who isn’t from their country or doesn’t hold their religious views, this place would be a very successful nation.  I am anxious to hear your thoughts and opinions on this.

Congratulations to Dad on becoming ordained as a Deacon in the Catholic Church today!  I am so proud of him and all the hard work he has put forth to achieve his goal.  I wish I could be there to support him as he has always been there to support me.  When he first learned the date, about a year ago, he told me the only acceptable excuse from me for missing this event would be a deployment.  I’m sorry Dad, but I think you jinxed us with that comment because here I sit in Afghanistan missing your big day.  Love you Pops!

I'm a Survivor!

Since last I wrote, a lot has happened.  I have survived an earthquake, a horrific sandstorm, two massive hail storms, a thunderstorm, and a girl fight that made me think I was in a ghetto. 

I have been working the night shift, which means I sleep all day (well, I try to anyway).  These days, I am thankful I am sleeping during the day.  It started with the earthquake.  I was asleep in my bunk when I was awoken to a gentle rocking.  I was confused; why was I rocking from side to side?  Was I having a seizure?  I rolled over and it stopped so I went back to sleep.  I thought maybe my stomach was grumbling so much that it was making me rock.  A quick flip to my back and the problem was solved.  However, this was not the case.  When I got to work, the first thing I was asked was “How’d you like that earthquake today?”  At least I can check that off my bucket list…Survive an earthquake…check!

A few days later, I was walking back from the Military Police station (that is closed on Sundays apparently) after a failed attempt at taking care of a parking ticket.  On my walk back, I decided to stop for a banana milkshake.  I am not sure why I enjoy these banana milkshakes so much, perhaps it is because I have only seen a banana twice since I have been here or maybe because my body craves the potassium.  Either way, they are fantastic and I urge you to go out and try one!  It was hot that day and the Police station was not as close to my room as one would hope.  Enjoying the nice, cold milkshake on the walk back to my room, I looked up at the sky.  On the horizon was an ominous group of clouds.  Definitely storm clouds, but they were not the right color for a thunderstorm.  They contained a red tint to them which told me this might be a dust storm.  I returned to my room to find my roommate was there taking a nap.  Ten minutes later we could hear the wind whipping outside and the sound of sand hitting the metal building.  My roommate asks if that is rain hitting the building.  As puffs of dust enter through our unsealed window, I reply, “Nope, I think that is all sand and dust.”  We both went into the hallway to peer through the windows.  Outside is nothing but dust and the hallway is quickly filling with dust spewing in from the windows.  We both went back to bed and covered our heads to keep as much dust out of our lungs as possible.  When the storm was done and we awoke, everything was covered in a thick layer of dirt.  That was not fun to clean.

That Tuesday, two days later, while I was working nights, I heard what sounded like a train outside our building.  This was odd because we don’t have trains anywhere close to where I work.  There is the possibility that there may not be a single train located in all of Afghanistan, but I do not have that knowledge to confirm or deny this fact.  Upon further investigation, I discovered that it was a thunderstorm complete with moth ball sized hail.  This was fantastic, as everyone knows I like a good storm, however, this was four hours prior to my PT test.  Thankfully it cleared up two hours later, and by the time the PT test started, the field was mostly dry.

That same day, as I was trying to sleep to a nice pitter patter of rain on the metal roof, I was abruptly awoken to what sounded like gravel being poured on top of my MOD.  My roommate and I went to the hallway to check if we were being buried alive in gravel or if we would live to see another day.  We were being attacked by golf ball sized hail!  The ground still has dimples from where this hail hit the ground.

The very next day, I had fallen asleep to the relaxing sound of rain hitting the roof.  I jumped as the loudest boom of thunder sounded and shook the building in which I lay.  Luckily, the relaxing rain continued and I was able to roll over and sleep once again.

Hmmm, I feel like I am missing something…oh yea, the girl fight.  I didn’t see any of it, but I have heard several witness accounts.  It was Saturday night.  It was movie night for a room of females in my unit.  They live in a separate MOD as enlisted and officers are normally separated in living situations.  The fight broke out because one room of females was trying to sleep while another room was trying to watch a movie.  The sleeping room knocked on the door to the movie night room and asked if they would turn down the volume of their movie.   They agreed and turned down the volume.  Moments later, the sleeping room knocked on the wall (I assume this was their way of saying, “Hey, your movie is still too loud”).   The movie room knocked right back and I think this is how tensions were elevated.  After a series of knocking, the sleeping room went to confront the movie room once again.  The movie room claimed that the sleeping room was always loud and that if they turned down the movie any more, no one would be able to hear it including those trying to watch the movie.  In short, the movie room told them to deal with it because the sleeping room was normally the loud room.  I know, this doesn’t really make sense in justifying the noise, but that is what was said prior to the door being closed and locked in the sleeping rooms face.  The sleeping room didn’t like this and kicked the door in to the movie room.  The movie room went to push the door closed again and slammed the sleeping rooms arm in the door; injury number one.  This is when the ghetto girl fight began; four females in the hallway attacking each other with fists, elbows, hair pulling, and kicking.  Any female that tried to break it up was pushed in the face or cussed out.  It was so bad the First Sergeant and the Company Commander were called in to deal with them.  A female in the MOD, an innocent bystander, is an MP who called the station.   So not only was the entire Chain of Command aware, but the MPs are now involved.  I spoke to several of the females living in the MOD to make sure they were ok mentally.  One said she felt like she was living in the ghetto and another had to be completely removed from the MOD for a few nights because she felt threatened and unsafe. 

All this to say, it is time to go home to the States!  47 Days!

Boston, Afghanistan

First, I would like to say my thoughts and prayers are with the victims, the families of the victims, and the first responders in Boston.  What a terrible tragedy, but we, as a country, will join together as one to support and rebuild all those affected.  This is a trait that I admire in people.  In times of misfortune, no matter the race, sex, origin, religious affiliation, or sexual preference, people unify for the greater good.  

This event occurred as my shift began.  I received a phone call from a coworker at another location.  He told me that there were two explosions in Boston.  I immediately looked at the big map of Afghanistan that is plastered to the wall beside my desk.  In a confused manner, I asked, “Boston?”  I had never heard of a Boston, Afghanistan so I was searching the map looking for where this place was located.  He then informed me that the explosions were positioned at the finish line of the Boston Marathon.  That was when it hit me; he was talking about Boston, Massachusetts.  I turned to my NCO and told him there were two explosions in Boston.  His first reaction was to check the CENTRIX computer which tracks all activity in Afghanistan.  I was inwardly relieved that I was not the only one that thought Boston was in Afghanistan.  I informed him that I was talking about Boston, Massachusetts.  It took him a moment, but then it sank in and he hopped back to the NIPR computer to check CNN.com.  We changed the channel on the TV to the news and there we saw the tragic events unfold over and over again as CNN replayed the explosions.

Tonight we continue to follow the events following the bombings.  24 hours later and already so much has been accomplished in regards to patient care and recovery as well as the investigation.  An NCO and I were discussing what would be banned next as a result of this catastrophe, but we are pretty sure bombs are already banned. 

 

Waiting for Breakfast

I was relieved from work this morning at 7am and headed over to the dining facility to meet some friends for breakfast.  While I was waiting outside for them to arrive, I saw some very interesting people.  There were two extremely thin blonde females that appeared from around the corner.  There is a smoking area 50 feet from the entrance to the dining facility and they stopped to have a smoke.  They were speaking a foreign language, and I can’t even begin to assume which language they were speaking, so I decided to ad-lib my own words. 

Girl 1-I am really hungry today, do you think we should go in and get something to eat?
Girl2-What? There is food in this building?  I thought this was just our special spot to smoke when we got hungry.
Girl1-Yes, there is a bunch of tempting delicious fatty foods in there which is why we can’t go in.  We don’t want to look like those fat Americans now do we?
Girl2-Oh, no of course not, but this is where all the fat comes from?  Good thing these cigarettes cure these strange pains in my stomach.
Girl1-Oh yes, see that American girl there, she is also not sure if she wants to go in, but she will eventually, just look at her.

That was the conversation in my head anyway, and I must have had something right in that conversation because when they were done smoking, they returned to where they appeared from and it was not the inside of the dining facility.

Then I saw an older woman walking along the side of the road.  It is not strange to see people conducting physical training along the roads, but this woman was different.  She was approximately 45 years of age, perhaps a little older, and wearing spandex shorts and an under armour type t-shirt.  Normally, this outfit would not call out to me as disturbing, however her shirt was tucked into her spandex shorts and she obviously spent a lot of money on workout clothes to simply walk around dusty Kandahar.  She was not fat, she was average, but who tucks a shirt into spandex shorts when not conducting anything short of a cartwheel?

Next, I saw a British woman pull up in a militarily painted Land Rover.  She was by herself and the truck obviously had no windows.  As I was standing there, she hopped out of the truck and looked around.  She saw me standing there and looked me up and down.  She did a slow walk around of the truck looking in all the places there should have been a window present.  Then she slung her weapon over her shoulder, gave me one more up and down glance, and walked towards the dining facility.  I don’t think she trusted me to stand next to her truck for some odd reason. 

Finally my friends arrived and we went inside to eat.  Today is the first time I noticed a true language barrier between the guy dishing my food and what I was asking him to put on the plate.  I asked for a small amount of bacon and pinched my fingers together to make what I thought was the universal sign for small.  I ended up with a plate of bacon.  I asked him if they had French toast today and he puts two pieces of fried dough on top of my plate of bacon.  I asked him for a large bowl of grits thinking that maybe this guy has the words small and large mixed up in the translator in his head.  I ended up with a large bowl of grits.  At least he understood something and I still had a good breakfast. 

As we were eating, I looked around the dining facility to notice some of the civilian contractors.  A few larger individuals were sitting close by and I noticed their trays were overflowing with food.  I wondered if they knew the dining facility handed out food four times a day every day.  Do they eat like that at every meal?  That would explain why they were so large.  Do they know there are gyms available here?  Then my thoughts went back to the two thin smoking blondes.  Maybe the conversation I created in my head was completely accurate because it was holding true, fat Americans eating all the tempting fatty delicious food.

It's Been A While

In a quick turn of events, I have been moved to the night shift.  This is a great opportunity to get away from my boss and return to the wonderful world of blogging.  Not only that, but now I am online and awake when my friends and family in the States are awake.  All around wonderful news, although I will admit when I was first informed I was not happy, but perhaps that is because I had already worked 6 hours prior to being told I was working nights starting that same night.  Also in the world of wonderful news, we finally received the authorization to work eight hour shifts.  These next 60 days should pass relatively quickly. 

A word of advice from the lesson I learned yesterday.  Do not stay awake for 29 hours straight.  While on night shift I think I was hallucinating.  I was so tired, I felt sick to my stomach.  When I finally hit the pillow, I started having the weirdest dreams; for example, I dreamt that everyone on Kandahar Airfield was walking around dressed like chickens, big yellow mascot type chicken suits. 

Tonight is not so bad.  I am well rested and full of coffee.  I think I can survive the next eight hours without hallucinations or falling asleep in my chair.  This experience makes me wonder how I ever stayed awake so long as a child.  I remember having competitions at summer camp to see who could stay awake the longest.  After three days, I started seeing penguins and decided to take a ten hour nap. 

What have we missed while I was unable to write?  Oh, I am moving to Kentucky when I return from deployment.  It is official and I have my Orders in hand!  If anyone wants to move to the Fort Mitchell, AL area, let me know, I have a great house to sell.  Thus far, the house hunting in Kentucky is going extremely well thanks to Dad, the internet, and email.  I am thoroughly excited to be moving closer to home and receiving a new job.  I am going to be working as a Health Care Administrator at the Fort Knox hospital providing administrative services to the Army’s health care facilities, specifically the Ireland Army Community Hospital (IRACH).  I will coordinate care delivered, advise on health care delivery and management, and establish/implement policies/procedures affecting the US Army Health Care System.  Sounds like a great position!

Bad Roommate

I feel like the worst roommate ever today.  I returned to the room late last night due to being out with old friends from a past deployment catching up on life over coffee and banana milkshakes.  The group of us lost track of time and before we realized how long we had been out there, it was 11pm.  I entered the room in pitch black darkness, groped my way to my area in the very back right corner and as quietly as I could, prepared for sleep.  Once I was all comfy cozy snug in bed, I realized I had to pee, once again making way for the opportunity to awaken my roommate by opening the door located in her area. 

I was no better this morning.  Instead of slapping my alarm to silence it, I punched it so that it went flying off the bed, hitting my tuff box, and eventually hiding under my bed screaming for attention.  Once that situation was resolved, I had the daunting task of trying to open my wall locker without it screeching.  I usually open my wall locker at night so that I don’t have to cringe in the morning while opening it.  Another fail in my corner, as the wall locker managed to screech louder than I think it has ever screeched.  I was no more quiet when I returned from my shower as I was seemingly tripping and kicking everything available for kicking and tripping over.  It was a morning that should have been spent in bed, in my opinion.

When my roommate arrived at work, I apologized for being so loud to which she told me she didn’t hear a thing.  I couldn’t believe it.

Loud Noises in the Cover of Darkness

Last night, there was a loud boom or thud or something that we hear on occasion that indicates an explosion in this war torn country.  I didn’t think anything of it because sirens weren’t sounding and I have grown accustomed to loud noises and earth shaking effects.  The lights flickered on and off for a minute as though the generators could not decide if they wanted to continue working or take the night off.  The final decision was to take the night off, as so many of us would like to do the same; the generators are the only ones with the guts to take action.  The lights went out right as I decided to grab a book to pass the time prior to falling asleep. 

I cheered a bit in my head because it meant my roommate would have nothing to do but go to bed.  It also meant the fan would be off and I could warm up for once.  But on the down side, it meant the water heater would not continuously warm water for my 430 shower.  My roommate returned from doing laundry.  Luckily, she was in the process of pulling her items out of the dryer when the power shut off.  The First Sergeant had handed out head lamps to the females, so we were walking around our blacked out building looking like coal miners the rest of the evening.  My roommate had a fake candle that she turned on, so as I entered the room after a trip to the bathroom, the flickering “candle light “ made it appear as though she was having some sort of prayer ritual in her area.  One of the females called the billeting office to let them know our power was out and began to spread the rumor it would be out until 0600.  I began to prepare myself mentally for a cold shower in the morning.  My roommate, while folding laundry, became flustered because the internet was out as well. 

Neither of us thought about flipping the light switches off, so when the power came back on at 0200, our room was as bright as daylight.  I arose from my bed to turn the lights off; my roommate was sitting up in bed on her phone, checking the internet most likely.  I went to the bathroom to discover the lights were still off even though the switches were in the on position.  I continued to prep myself mentally for a cold shower. 

Two and a half hours later, as I shut my alarm off, I grabbed my towel, my shower caddy, and a bottle of dry shampoo just in case the water was too cold for a shower, at least I would have clean hair.  The power was still out in the bathroom.  I said a little prayer and continued to the shower stall.  I flipped the nozzle up.  Cold water spewed out.  I told myself to give it a minute; nothing was for sure just yet.  I noticed the shower curtain start to move towards the flowing water, a good sign the water was getting hot.  I tested the temperature of the water with my hand and it was hot!  Thank Jesus! 

When I got to work, I was informed the power outage was post wide.  I’ll bet we have some pretty tired electricians here this morning that deserve a day off!

Easter and a 5K!

Our Easter grill out went fantastically well yesterday.  We cooked hamburgers, lobster tails, boneless chicken, bone-in chicken, and hot sausages.  The weather was gorgeous at a sunny and 74 degrees.  We played corn hole and I was called a ringer, a person that acts like they are no good and turns out to be really good.  I guess they forgot I was from Ohio where we hold corn hole tournaments.  We also had an Easter egg hunt in the street that passes by the front door of our building.  Of the 30 eggs hidden, I found one and it was not one with a prize in it.  It was small and pink with a tiny fuzzy chick contained inside.  One egg contained ten dollars, another contained a note from the First Sergeant dismissing the finder from one PT session, and the person that found the most eggs received a $15 iTunes gift card.  As half of my forehead became sun burnt and my stomach was filled past capacity, it was time to leave.  Granted, I started my day with a box of Girl Scout cookies, s’mores flavored goldfish, Reese’s Pieces, and a slice of cake (that’s right, the days of snacking have returned with the end of Lent…although it lasted until 1000), I made up for it at dinner with a salad and a cup of fruit as I sat and watched my unit place first in the Flag football tournament. 

I arranged with the new CPT to come in at six this morning so I could run in the Sexual Assault Harassment prevention 5K.  He agreed which meant I was not only able to run in the 5K, but I also was afforded the opportunity to sleep for an extra hour.  That extra hour made a world of difference.  I woke up not wanting to get out of bed, but I had the extra motivation of the only reason I was able to sleep this additional hour was if I was running this 5K.  My roommate mentioned the night prior that she was going to run with me.  She went to the extent of laying out her PT’s so that, in her words, she had “no excuse” not to run in the morning.  As my alarm sounded, she clearly announced she was not going. 

I wore my long sleeve PT shirt and shorts completing the outfit with my reflective belt and eye protection.  It was a warm day out, but not too warm to make me reconsider the long sleeve cotton shirt.  The sun was coming up and it was weird starting the race in daylight.  I always try my best, especially at the beginning of the race.  I was supposed to link up with a runner from one of our units because he runs a 25.  I wanted to pace off him so I could improve my time.  I could not find him, so I focused on my form and keeping a continuous pace.  Towards the two mile point, I started to become tired but I noticed there was an older gentleman keeping pace right next to me.  I decided to keep with him.  He and I bounced off each other and silently motivated each other to keep pace.  At times I fell behind and at times he fell behind, but we always kicked it in to catch back up to one another.  The last twenty feet of the race, he kicked it in and sprinted.  I, on the other hand, had given the race my all and could not muster the strength to sprint.  I came in at 26:06, a new personal best.  To top off the morning, they were passing out bananas after the race.  I have not seen a banana since I was back in the States.  They were perfect, slightly green and full of flavor.  They were not mushy or bruised, just perfect bananas waiting to make me feel better after such a rewarding run.