How bazaar

As I settle into my new home for the next year, I look for distractions from it. By all accounts, I live in an oasis, a Shangri La if you will. But a paradise within a prison is still a prison. With the exceptions of going outside the confines of my camp for meetings with Ministry officials and reconstruction project managers, I would never know that anything else goes on outside the walls of this small base.

That leads to the question, what can I use to keep me occupied over this time other than sleep, work, eat, and work out? Our camp has a limited MWR complete with gym, tiny theater, and small library for books and videos. There’s the USO that offers free telephone service back home and free low bandwidth Wi-Fi Internet for a limited number of users at one time. There’s a volley ball court in the back of the camp, and occasionally there are dances in the DFAC overflow tent where the tragically hip dance to the flavor of the week such as disco, hip hop, or country and western.

We do have one event out of the ordinary. On Sundays, the locals who have been cleared through background checks are allowed to come on the base and set up a bazaar in a secured area. A lot of the wares are standard Middle Eastern goods, such as rugs, tea sets, pirated software and movies, jewelry, carved wooden jewelry boxes, etc. Although with the size of my base I was extremely impressed with the amount and selection of the merchandise they brought. In fact, this was by far the best mobile bazaar I had ever seen set up. There were vendors selling precious gem stones, hand made/tailored suits, women's ethnic dresses, faux antique weapons, hand carved wooden furniture, paintings, books, cell phones, and a whole host of trinkets, knick-knacks, and souvenirs. I bought some Internet access cards for the commercial Internet access available in our barracks and considered buying a sim-card for a GSM phone I brought with me from home. I made my purchases in the required local Afghani currency, which exchanges about $500AF=$10US

If you don’t know anything about shopping in a bazaar or flea market, let me explain something first. You’re expected to bargain. If you don’t, you’ll be viewed as ignorant and naive. I ran into a woman who would look for what she wanted then have her friend come back later to bargain for a better price because she said she didn’t like confrontational situations. You should also know that you will be almost accosted by the owner at each stand you pass if they aren’t already engaged with a customer. What’s more, they all consider you their friend and offer you their “special price” as such. Some are not as pushy as others, but some go so far as to shake your hand and then while keeping it clasped pull you in to show you some item they want to persuade you into buying. My strategy was to tell each of them I was new, that I was there for a year, and that I would see them every Sunday, so I wasn’t interested in making purchases today.

The bazaar is a good place to shop for gifts that you’ll never find back in the U.S., at least at these prices. It’s definitely a good deal; however, it’s not as good as it used to be. All too many foreigners not skilled in the art of price negotiation bought expensive goods at the first offered selling price. Once the locals learned that there will always be an influx of ignorant Westerners to buy their merchandise, they don’t need to waste as much time negotiating a lower price with a skilled bargainer. After all, as P.T. Barnum said, “There’s a sucker born every minute.”

More to follow.

Meet the new guy

I walked into the office today and was told to grab my gear.  I was told by my peer that I was going with several others on a mission to a department of the Ministry of Education to discuss a project for funding IT equipment.  I was to shadow the project manager to see how these meetings were conducted in order to take over other reconstruction and capacity building projects in the near future.  He said we were leaving in 5 minutes, so I didn't hesitate to run back to my room and grab my stuff.

We loaded up into the armored suburbans and our convoy took off.  I noticed on my early morning ride from the Kabul IA the other day and also again today that Afghans get up early in the morning and all of them are moving on the streets as if they have a purpose.  I've spent a lot of time in Iraq, and to contrast, Arabs (1) as a general rule don't get up early, and (2) typically don't move with a purpose.  Note: Afghans are not Arabs. They comprise a number of ethnicities such as Pashtun, Tajik, Hazara, Uzbek, Aimak, Turkmen, Baloch, and others.

The city of Kabul is extensive with about 5 million residents, and I'd swear they were all out on the streets today going somewhere.  The traffic here would give most people nightmares.  They weave in and out and came within inches of hitting our vehicle.  Every type of vehicle imaginable is out on the roads.  From busses and trucks to sedans and minivans, there also motorcycles, scooters, bikes, hand pump powered vehicles, and carts of all sort.  I took pictures through what I thought was the tinted glass of our suburban which would provide me some privacy without looking like a complete tourist.  Although, I began to realize that people could see me as children started making faces at me out of their own car windows.  After that, it became a game to see who I could get to smile back at me when I smiled and nodded or mouthed "hello".

We reached our destination and went in with our interpreter to meet with the department director and deputy director.  As we entered their office, we were greeted and asked to sit at a modest conference table with candy and cookies set out.  While we were talking about the project, a man came in and handed each of us a tea cup with hot chai that was probably near the temperature of lava. (I'll discuss this custom and its significance in more detail later)

After a very productive meeting that resulted in a new scope and revised requirement list from the stakeholders, we all stood up and exchanged our thanks and good byes.  It came out during our more extended and informal chit-chat afterwards that I was new to the country within the last three days.  The department director, who spoke excellent English, clasped my hand while we shook hands for what seemed like a short eternity, laughed while he told me that I should look forward to get sick from eating the food within the first week of being here as a welcome to Afghanistan.

Great, my first meeting with a Government official and I’m already getting a curse put on me.

More to follow.

Home sweet hovel

I've been in my new home for two days now, and I'm slowly adjusting to the differences in my expectations. I'd figured that since I was now a field grade officer I'd have my own room in a trailer as is standard with most places in Iraq and Afghanistan in my past deployments.  I'm now living in a single person dorm style room with two other people.  Things could be worse.  I've lived in a dusty Bedouin tent in Al Anbar with eight people before.  I just like my privacy and alone time when not at work.  It's not that I hate people; sometimes I really just don't like being around them.  This next year will be a test of my social skills under pressure.

I'm lucky to have the bunk bed with no one on the top bunk.  For that matter, I'm lucky to have the bottom bunk too.  In order to afford myself a small bit of privacy, I've taken my Army wool blanket and hung it up as a curtain creating a "man cave" of sorts.  This way I can stay up on the computer or reading at night and not disturb my roommates and they won't disturb me when I want to sleep and they turn on the lights.

I had to swap out the mattress on my bed.  The mattress on the bed when I got here was like a hard box spring that fell over to the side when I lay down into a parallelogram shape.  I swapped out that mattress with the one above that was completely made of foam.  I decided that instead of playing Goldilocks and looking for the mattress that was "just right", this one would have to do.  However, if this one wears out like the one I had on a previous Iraq deployment, I'm swapping it out too.  I'm not going to sleep in another bed that makes me look like I'm sleeping in a taco.

The room is cold.  I thought my roommates were just setting the thermostat to arctic temperatures at night, but I later realized that the thermostat was just for show.  "It doesn't control anything", one of them told me.  Contrast this with my office on the third floor of another building.  I heard the AC that was installed in that building was insufficient for the square footage, so they would need to upgrade it.  That should be done in a couple months (apparently the summer months are not a priority for them).

The latrine (bathroom) is probably the only saving grace in this place.  While not located in the dorm room, one latrine is one located between every two rooms in the hallway.  This is especially convenient for one big reason. Since we drink so many liquids to keep from dehydration, it causes most people problems sleeping through the night.  Now I usually have to get up at least once to urinate during a night's sleep.  Since most troops have to use bathroom trailers that can be upwards of a few hundred yards away, most take to using "piss bottles" during the night so they don't have to get up and go out.

There's a European looking toilet and a single wall sink with no room to set things.  A trash can and toilet paper holder along with plunger and toilet brush are permanent fixtures.  The shower is a stand up stall with a spray hose.  This is basically the only place in the whole camp I can be assured I'll get privacy.  And best yet is we have a local worker who comes by and clean the bathroom daily.

All in all, it's not what I'd prefer, but it's better than some accommodations I've had before.  As I kept telling myself before I get here, I needed to be prepared for things to change and expect anything.  Besides, it's only a year and I can make the best of it.  So add a plastic chest of drawers, hang up a reading light, place some pictures on the walls and it becomes my home away from home, but there's definitely no place like my real home.

More to follow.

Welcome to my world

So I arrive at my camp in Kabul and I’m already expected.  Somehow someone from the office I’m supposed to be working in sees me as I get out of the armored suburban transport, recognizes my name tag and says, “Hey we’re expecting you.  Come with me!”  I can only think, “This is never good…"
 

I drop my bags and follow him into an office on the third floor of a building that houses the joint command staff for U.S. Forces Afghanistan.  I’m greeted by the Marine who made contact with me via email a couple days ago and welcomes me to the group. After introductions of some people and a reunion with a few others from my home unit who had arrived a few weeks before me, I‘m taken on a tour of the compound.

I’ve been assigned to live and work at the New Kabul Compound (NKC).  Apparently this place is so new, it doesn’t have a name yet?  Maybe our military planners have a creative writers’ block?  Or maybe they’re just getting lazy?  Who knows…

I’m on a one-tenth of a square mile encampment with high ballistic impact security walls.  There are several interconnected buildings three stories tall.  Navigating between the continuous walkways, tunnels, breezeways and courtyards that all look alike I feel as if I deserve some cheese when I find my destination.

Remember how I previously described the giant DFACs and fully stocked exchanges?  Well they’re not located here.  Let me rephrase that.  The DFAC and exchange are sufficient size to provide me what I need to survive over the next year.  Honestly, I’m being a little critical.  The DFAC is still better quality that what we get in the U.S., but the exchange is stocked similarly to a truck stop.

There’s a decent gym here and a tiny USO that offers free low bandwidth Internet.  Supposedly there’s even a bazaar here on Sunday that sells local phone and private Internet service in addition to the usual trinkets and assorted foreign junk.  We also have a barbershop run by women from Kyrgyzstan who barely speak English and a small day spa I might frequent when I’m so bored that a pedicure seems like a break from the monotony.

My quarters I’m assigned to are a basement single person room about the size of a child’s bedroom.  Too bad they have three of us crammed in here with bunk beds and wall lockers.  We’re literally living on top of each other.  And this goes for the lower enlisted ranks all the way through officers up to O5.  I’m not quite sure I understand how a compound planned and built from the ground up was at 2-3 times its capacity from the day it opened.

So I live in a basement room with no windows and work in a building with no windows.  When I do venture outside, all I see are the compound walls.  No matter, since while I was in-processing, the medic at the clinic advised me not to run the perimeter of the compound (tiny as it is) because the air quality is so bad.

That’s the world I’ll live in for the next year.  But we make our own reality around us so I’m hopeful that I can mold my job into something more exciting than what it seems right now.

More to follow.

Frequent flier miles

I took a short break from my blog while I was in transit from Bagram airbase to Kabul.  Partly because I was completely exhausted from travel and partly because I was trying to find an Internet connection for my laptop.

After my flight to Bagram from Kuwait, I had thought I was going to be on the next Military aircraft bound for Kabul.  In fact, I was even manifested, but an hour before boarding, an O9 (Three star general) bumped twenty people so he and his entourage could fly out instead.  Really?  A three star general couldn’t get his own plane and had to fly on a space available Air Force cargo plane?

The next flight out to Kabul was late the next night so I decided to make use of the USO for food and distraction.  Afterwards, I took a concrete nap curled up with my weapons in my arms as I slept.  The weather was pleasant; at 95 degrees, it was a good twenty-five cooler than Kuwait.

That evening, I made the short flight and landed around 0200 hrs at Kabul International Airport (KIA) (Nice acronym huh?).  My ride to the base in the city wasn’t coming for about six hours so I decided to hit up the 24 hour Turkish café.  I had some kind of tasty lamb wrap and a diet coke to wash it down with.  This was my first adventure with local food this deployment.  A test case if you will since I’ve come down with at least one case of severe food poisoning every time I’ve traveled somewhere foreign with the Army in my life.  I suppose all the doxycycline in my system as anti-malarial prophylactics works.

So here I am at the end of my eleven day traveling odyssey feeling haggard and worn out.  I probably look even worse.  I joke that the Military should offer me frequent flier miles, but as my buddy once said, you can’t roll back those miles on your odometer and you certainly can’t cash them in for points.

More to follow.

You gotta have faith

I finally made it out of Kuwait and into Afghanistan. I knew I would eventually, but it was starting to become my own personal "Groundhog Day". This flight out was a Military flight run by the Air Force on a C-17. Lots of returning Service Members and contractors in transit to Bagram then to places afar.  I was supposed to board an immediate flight out to Kabul immediately following the flight to Bagram, but I was bumped off that flight because others with higher priority needed seats.  My next opportunity for a flight out is tonight, and I'm confident I'll make it out.

Military planes can be scary because there are no comforts like on commercial airliners. I'm always a little apprehensive when flying military Space-A, so I say a short silent prayer before take off, and it always helps me through the flight.


There are no atheists in foxholes, or so the saying goes.  The only problem with that statement is that we don't fight out of fox holes anymore.  War for the U.S. Military is no longer a symmetrical battle, meaning we don't fight military to military anymore with front lines and such and there is no longer a safe place "behind the front lines".  We now fight in an a-symmetrical battlefield with no front lines and no safe areas.  We walk among enemy and friend alike and fight a war of ideas, although the ammunition still includes bullets and explosives.

In years past I always kept a medallion of Saint Barbara around my neck every time I deployed.  She, being the patron saint of Field Artillerymen for protection against explosions, lightning, and consumption by fire, and to me was a symbol of my job and protection from it as well.  While I'm not a Catholic, this trinket had symbolic meaning to me first as a Field Artillery officer at the time, and secondly as a symbol of someone who believed so steadfastly in their faith that in their afterlife they offer protection to the living through their continued prayers.  I now wear a medallion of Saint Michael, the archangel, who symbolizes the victory of good over evil.  In many cultures Saint Michael is considered a protector and guardian angel.

I decided several years ago that I wanted to switch my branch and military occupational specialty to Civil Affairs because I wanted to try and make a difference in the world.  I wanted to help rebuild rather than destroy.  I wanted to teach rather than punish with force.  This is not to say that I won't shoot dead someone who threatens myself, my comrades, or the civilian population that I'm charged with protecting.  People always ask me if I've ever shot anyone.  I have yet to do so, but I have no problem if it falls under the above criteria and doesn't violate International law (Geneva Conventions) or theater ROE (Rules of Engagement).  If you deploy to a combat zone, you need to have this mindset or you will never be combat effective.

Now I'm not overtly religious, although I do consider myself a Christian.  Based on the doctrine of my particular faith, I believe that I am not and never will be perfect.  I also believe that I should try to do good in the world in the eyes of my maker.  Asking to be forgiven is not a one time event but a continuous process with a reward of continuous grace from birth until death.  I believe that it's better to show your faith through actions rather than spewing hollow or two faced words of piety, and it's my wish that my current profession helps me accomplish this.

Occasionally I run into a Soldier who's terrified to go outside of the wire (leave the confines of the FOB) because of IEDs (Improvised Explosive Devices aka roadside bombs), RPGs (Rocket Propelled Grenades), or some other horrific explosive weapon.  I usually carry a couple Saint Barbara necklace medallions with me to give out to such individuals.  I explain the story and significance of the patron saint and that faith helps get you through tough times.  This gives the individual something to focus on so that their fear isn't paralyzing them from doing their job.  After all, to quote the British essayist William Hazlitt (1778-1830), "If you think you can win, you can win. Faith is necessary to victory."

More to follow.

Up in the air

The soldier I've been waiting on finally arrived night before last, so I can complete the final leg of my journey.  After a brief reunion, I showed him around the airbase.  With the heat and accommodations he was less than impressed, so we immediately went to the passenger terminal to get on the waiting list for a space available flight to Bagram airbase in Afghanistan.

I had already put myself on the standby list after I first arrived so my priority was pretty high at this point.  His priority was very low since there were over a hundred people already on the list to that particular destination, and knowing that anyone returning from their two week R&R (Rest and Recuperation) had a higher priority of getting back into that theater of operations than we did.  This made our chances pretty slim of getting any immediate flights together.  Tomorrow there's just one flight flying out, but today's multiple flights out took care of most of the backlog, so our chances are pretty decent of flying out in the afternoon.

Ug, the afternoon.  It's been consistently 120 deg F for the past couple of afternoons.  When you show up for stand-by status roll call, you must have all your bags and all your gear, to include body armor and helmet.  Did I mention that we're flying in a military aircraft and not a contracted commercial carrier?  That means sitting in jump seats, wearing all of your heavy protective equipment, packed in literally like sardines, and NO AIR CONDITIONING!

If given my druthers, I'd prefer a flight during the middle of the night so that the temperature would only be a balmy 95-100 degrees.  But the only flight available will be during the brain boiling hottest part of the day making my trip like flying in a tin can in the sun.  I need to get to Afghanistan soon as my replacement is asking for me, so this is hand I've drawn.  Although there's always a chance we'll get bumped and get rolled onto the next flight if higher priority personnel arrive.  Nothing is certain here.  One way or another tomorrow is up in the air.

More to follow.

An army runs on its stomach

I'm still waiting on my soldier to arrive from the U.S. (whose weapons were lost in transit by Delta Airlines) before I can make the final leg of my journey into Aghanistan.  Aside from Sleeping, the gym, and MWR, I eat.  We have four opportunities to eat in the DFAC (dining facility) a day.  If you're used to eating in a DFAC in the U.S. but not overseas in a combat zone, these things are truely a sight to behold.

Defense contractors that have profited over this last decade in the Middle East have gotten a lot of bad press with no-bid contracts and other unethical business practices facilitated through the previous executive administration.  I'm not here to defend those practices.  Although their services, paid for at two to ten times what most Service Members are paid, allow troops in combat support and service support roles to take a more active role in force protection rather than holding them to their safer occupational specialties.  Thus more warfighters.  Statistically speaking, for every one warfighter, there are two support personnel performing some non-combat role.

One thing I do appreciate that defense contractors provide better than the Military can provide itself are the exceptional DFACs throughout the Middle East theater of operations.  The DFACs over here are operated by several Government contractors. The major player is KBR, a subsidiary of Halliburton.  To be fair, the majority of DFACs in the U.S. are run in part or whole by contracted food service companies as well with some Military oversight.  The difference is the quality, selection, and portion size in combat zones is beyond comparison with those in the U.S.

DFACs in the CONUS (Continental U.S.) U.S. Army installations are relatively small (typically the size of a packed medium sized restaurant) and have a poor selection of food and an especially poor selection of healthy food.  They're still stuck in the 1960s in the thought process of healthy eating.  For example: "starches" are a vegetable, you can't have more than one item with meat in it, Gatorade is sometimes pushed as a drink for those on the weight control program, potatoes are considered a healthy fat free choice for those trying to lose weight, macaroni and cheese and corn are healthy vegetables, fresh fruit, vegetables, fruit juice are in short supply, and there's usually a better selection of fried, fast, and junk food than there is from the "healthier" main food line.  The quality of the food also leaves something to be desired as the majority of the meat comes in the form of an all purpose meat patty (often breaded) cooked with different sauces (similar to putting lipstick on a pig), and most everything appears to have been in a warmer for at least one or two days before serving.  About the only things cooked on the spot are the hamburgers.

In comparison, DFACs in combat zones are typically the size of several gymnasiums if not the size of an entire football field.  There're usually four or five meat choices and a variety of fresh vegetables.  Just don't ask what countries they originated from.  The salad bars are packed and the condiment selection leaves nothing to be desired.  Breakfast, my personal favorite, is stocked with a selection that would rival any Shoney's breakfast buffet.  To drink most of the common juices are available as well as some more exotic ones.  About any type and flavor of milk made is carried, in addition to a complete selection of soft drinks and sweet and unsweet tea.  Did I mention the desert counter complete with ice cream?  (I probably better not)  Of course you can go through a second time, but you don't need to since you can get as much as you want the first time through without limits.

What I described above is available at most large camps and FOBs (Forward Operating Bases).  Those who are stuck in small outposts and smaller camps AKA COPs (Combat Outposts) are not so lucky, but the food is still typically better than what is served back in CONUS.

Of course all of this quantity, quality, and selection comes at a price.  Like the rest of America, the military is fighting a war on weight control.  If we don't stay active while deployed a large number of us come home heavier than before we left.  Yes, these mega DFACs are a huge morale booster, but at what cost?  Napoleon said an "Army runs on its stomach", but too much of a belly and you can't pass the required run time on your next physical fitness test.

More to follow.

How hot is it? It's so that that...

My first time in Kuwait was when I stepped off the plan on July 31st, 1999 when I was here with my active duty unit for a rotation on Operation Southern Watch. I remember first getting off the plane, and when the heat wave blasted me I thought I'd probably be dead from heat stroke before I made it home the next year. I remember it was 100 degrees F at midnight and my thought was "It's no wonder people fight over here because I'd be angry all the time as well if I had to live in this area of the world." (*Explicative removed for common decency)

How to describe the weather here? Go turn on your oven and when it's reached the desired temperature, open the door. That rush of hot air is a permanent feeling here. If you aren't used to air that hot, it burns your face slightly, but you do get used to it. I personally use an aftershave lotion that has an SPF 20 so I don't end up looking as old and leathery as so many of the contractors over here do from the ever-present scorching sun.

Little has changed with this place over the last 12 years. I mean the facilities change somewhat as the camp needs change. But then again all infrastructure here is semi-permanent built out of temporary building materials. As if everything around here slowly dry rots in the desert heat.

The daylight cycle is strange here as well. It gets light around 0430hrs (4:30am) and dark by 2000hrs (8pm). The thing about this particular transient camp is that there's activity at all hours of the day and night. In fact there's more activity during the middle of the night than there is during the day. Since people are waiting on flights, if they aren't looking for some entertainment distraction they're usually sleeping in one of the hundreds of transient tents here. For good reason, the daytime summer heat is just bearable for a short while. During the mid day people are usually only outside to move between buildings or tents. After dark when the high temperatures recede, people come out to partake of the fast food under the awnings and make use of the metal picnic tables. (Who thought that metal seats outside in the desert were a smart decision anyhow?)

I prefer not to eat the fast food options here partly to save money and partly because I'm trying to improve my health over the next year. Eating in the DFAC (Dining Facility) is free and the healthier choice. Plus the quality and selection of DFACs in combat areas far exceeds anything that is provided stateside. (Contractors do provide some services that Service Members don't resent at 2-10x what we get paid) The food isn't top quality, but it's pretty good. Although having someone from the eastern hemisphere cooking western style food does come with it's drawbacks at times which I will address in a later post.

So I'm off to get my midnight breakfast (meals are served here four times a day) and get my fill before I'm off to bed. I could eat breakfast at any time of the days, so I don't really care that the scrambled eggs are runny, the bacon is thin and greasy, and the breakfast tacos are called breakfast wraps. I suppose it's all a cultural difference since the TCN workers haven't ever been to the U.S. to see what we eat and how it’s cooked. In fact, it's so hot here that I'm pretty sure they fry the DFAC eggs on the sidewalk. (ba dum pum & *cymbal crash*) Thank you I'll be here all year.

More to follow.

 

World War Z

I'm currently stuck in a transient hell with people coming and going, waiting on flights to go somewhere, anywhere.  I observe people's expressions while they wait for transport out of this camp.  I know that look well as I've seen it too many times before.  I’ve often I've worn that look myself.  It's the weary and zoned out look of travelers who don't have the energy to interact.  In same cases it signifies someone who has no one to interact with.  In some of the worst cases, it's worn by those who’re hungry for interaction but still lack that capacity for interaction for one reason or another.

You'd think that in a combat zone full of tens of thousands of Service Members and contractors, one would never feel alone.  Quite the opposite.  We’ve been at war for ten years now and rarely does a unit deploy with all of its personnel organic to them.  Unit members are often cherry picked from other units and the IRR (Inactive Ready Reserve) in order to fill slots to make units full strength for deployment.  As National Guardsmen and Reservist, and Active Duty to some extent, we are ripped apart from our social support system outside of the Military and thrust into an impersonal world of mission accomplishment.  To make things worse, we immerse ourselves in our electronics, communication devices, or other social surrogate seeking to fill the void that this place, this experience, gives us all.

We do have the MWR (Morale, Welfare, and Recreation) and the USO (United Services Organization) to provide us entertainment whether through physical or mental stimulation.  Aside from the standard gym complete with cardio and weights, there are usually movies playing in a make shift theater of sorts.  We have access to Playstations, Xbox, and Wii stations to play together or alone.  We can check out DVDs to watch on individual TV viewing stations.  There are also Internet cafes and banks of phones to reach out and touch someone.  Although that usually does little to ease the pains of separation.

I’ve seen many a Soldier, Marine, etc cry while on the phone over here due to some out of control issue back home.  I‘ve been one of them myself in years past.  Occasionally the loneliness gets so bad or their problems seem so insurmountable that Service Members take their own life.  This should never happen, but all too often we don't catch the warning signs in time.

When not working, exercising, or eating, most go and immerse themselves in a brief fantasy world of escapism offered by the MWR if they don’t have a similar distraction back in their own living arrangements.  While I sat in the MWR today waiting on a 30 minute time slot for a computer in the Internet café, a group of four Soldiers came in and sat down to play a game of cards.  This struck me as funny because you really don't see that much anymore.  I realized later that they were probably career National Guardsmen or Reservists and were all probably in their 40s or later.  Even the coffee shop over here is full of people socializing through their laptop chat clients or Skype, if not just catching up on email or current events.  Not all that dissimilar from a Starbucks back home.

My point: loneliness in a crowd.  So here we wait, sometimes in groups and sometimes alone for our transportation out to destinations afar.  Everyone with that longing for the social interaction that we all need but have no way to really fulfill over here.  So maybe in the next world war we won't fight zombies as is popular culture today; it may be fought WITH zombies.  To quote Pogo from Walt Kelly’s comic, "We have met the enemy and he is us."

More to follow.

Thank you, come again!

Kuwaitis are rich.  They are so rich in fact that they never have to work.  To be more precise, this country imports in all of their labor force.  And why shouldn’t they if they have the oil money for it.  Most of the foreign workers, or TCNs (third country nationals), come from third world countries or emerging economies and work in the rich desert countries to send money home to their families.  Most are from south-central and south-east Asian countries like India, Packistan, Bangladesh, the Philippines, or Thailand.

Those TCNs lucky enough to work on the U.S./coalition bases and encampments do all of the menial work such as cleaning and cooking as well as office and retail jobs.  They are always very friendly and polite and have an amazing grasp of the English language, although through a heavy accent.

The base at Ali Al Salem in Kuwait, being a transient way point for military travelers, is full of small conveniences to make you feel like you are at home.  Somewhat... 

On this base there’s a MacDonald’s, KFC, Pizza Hut, Subway, doughnut shop, and Green Bean (which is AAFES’ version of Starbucks).  They’re all great to a weary traveler sick of eating DFAC food longing for a greasy American experience again. 

AAFES (the Army Air Force Exchange Service) is a quasi government organization similar to how the post office operates has evolved from the old trading posts or outpost exchanges run by the U.S. Army in the late 19^th century.  The PX/BX/NX/MX (Post, Base, Navy, and Marine exchanges) are like very small stores similar to Wal-Mart.  On installations in the U.S., exchanges can be nearly the size of large Wal-Marts.  On small bases over seas they are often the size of convenience stores with similar stock.  A little known fact is that AAFES is also the largest franchiser of Burger King in the world.

There are also “concessionaires” that are businesses contracted by AAFES to provide specialty items such as jewelry, internet and phone service, civilian clothing, and local bazaar-type items.  Of course, all at jacked up prices.  But AAFES “claims” it’s a bargain since you pay no sales tax.  However, AAFES knows that when Service Members have a pocket full of money and nowhere to spend it, they will pay whatever they charge.  Simple supply and demand, but hey, they’re a monopoly and can do what they wish.

A simple trip to the exchange for me usually consists of a chilled bottle of Gatorade, some type of hygiene item I needed but forgot, and a long look at the expensive military equipment/gear isle.   This is where I argue with myself if I really need another piece of military gear for this deployment that I don’t already have.

I take my purchases to the counter where I am greeted by a pleasant man whose name I can’t pronounce without asking him.  I pay, thank him, and wish him a good day.  He replies in English through a very heavy accent, “You are very welcome sir.”

More to follow.

If war is Hell, then Kuwait is Purgatory

Ah Kuwait, the ugly mistress I can't seem to get rid of. I've lost track of how many times I've been through this country.

All personnel that are going to Iraq and Afghanistan come into the Kuwait City International Airport and then take a military transport into their specific theater of operations. Unfortunately you don't ever go into KCI, as I would guess it's nice on the inside. We're always unloaded on the tarmac and bused to a holding area until we're taken out into the inland desert for processing and consolidation until we arrange transportation to our final destination either by military flight or ground convoy.

Military flights fly out of an airbase outside of the city that consists of a huge tent city. It's literally a grid system of transient living quarter tents with bunk beds inside them. There's a small area for limited fast food, shopping, and services like phones, Internet, and a barbershop that cater to Service Members while they wait for their flights either into a theater of operations or back home if that's their destination. Of course, there is also a DFAC (Dining Facility), MWR (Morale, Welfare, and Recreation), USO.

I'm stuck for several days here in Kuwait waiting on one of my soldiers to arrive who wasn't able to make it out of the U.S. on our contracted Government plane since Delta Airlines lost his weapon while we were in commercial transit to our deployment point at Fort Benning, GA. I wonder sometimes how airlines even stay in business since they can't even keep track of a group of locked weapons boxes. It truly astounds me at times the absolute incompetence of commercial airlines, but then I digress.

Service Members wait here in Kuwait for flights, sometimes getting lucky and not staying here long. Others are not so lucky as their destinations either don't have flights often or the plane for their scheduled flight has an issue where it's postponed or canceled.

So here I am surrounded by people (Service Members and U.S. contractors) waiting to either go home or into a war zone. A purgatory if you will where some go quickly and some hang around for a long time as if some cosmic force is judging them or that karma is finally catching up. All around me, people are flying out to their heaven or hell, and I'm stuck in purgatory.

More to follow.

364 days and counting...

This is my fourth deployment to the Middle East, and in keeping with technology I decided to start a blog since so many of my friends asked me if I was going to be emailing out pictures and status updates as I had the last time I was in Iraq in 2007.  A lesson I learned from the last time was that emailing out pictures to dozens of recipients at once is extremely difficult when dealing with limited bandwidth.  Thus, a blog is born.

This go-round I'll be working in Afghanistan doing Civil Affais work for the U.S. Army.  What's that you say?  What is Civil Affairs?  Think of us as the nation building arm of the U.S. Military.  We do rebuilding and reconstruction through civil engagements, contracting, negotiating, training, humanitarian work, etc.  The ultimate goal is to get whatever country we work in self sufficient so that it can become self sustaining after being destroyed through conflict or disaster.  At present, I'm slotted to work in Kabul at the joint headquarters; however, job roles quite often change due to ever changing needs, so I'm prepared to be sent elsewhere as well.

A typical deployment lasts close to a year, so I'm considering my arrival in Kuwait as the first day in theater.  I'll be counting the days, now with only 364 left to go.

More to follow.