There is quite a bit of walking in the Army. Sure, we might drive to a location, whether it be a school or a bridge or some other project. But, oftentimes we can only get so close and then we are walking the rest of the way. Of course, when we roll into the thriving metropolis of Asadabad, we have to park and walk to the projects because there just is not much room for our large, Mad Max style vehicles that we drive around in. The other day I made my first trip to Asadabad, which is just a few minutes from the base. We were there to familiarize me on some of the projects that were in progress in the city, and to check the work of the contractors that were actually doing the work. It is one thing to visit a country and walk through the streets of a town or a city as a visitor. It is quite another feeling to walk through in uniform carrying weapons. The people of the town were not hostile but they were not ecstatic about us being there either. They were just...watching. The kids were curious and some of the bolder ones would come out to the street and ask for things, pens, gloves, sunglasses, candy. It is astonishing to think that we have been in Afghanistan since before these kids were born.
My first impression of Asadabad was that it was very similar to some of the other countries I have been to such as the Philippines and Indonesia (although the climate is much different). The streets are lined with small shops, and there are plenty of wooden carts with tangerines, plums and bananas stacked on them. The buildings are basic, square and made with no frills and cheap concrete. The shops do not have doors or window displays but rather they are wide open with garage-type doors that come down at the end of the day when they close everything up. There are no traffic lights but the light traffic and the numerous pedestrians seem to co-exist without anyone getting run over (including me). At one point during our stroll we passed some interesting characters walking down the middle of the street....sheep. There were four sheep walking down the street, seeming to know exactly where they were going, and with no shepherd in sight. Very bizarre. Another moment that made me slightly uneasy was when we visited a local hospital to look at a water tower that had been built. The tower was on the women's side of the hospital, so we had to wait until the coast was clear and then they allowed us beyond the curtain and into the courtyard of the women's clinic. As I pulled back the curtain, before me were about thirty to forty women sitting on two rows of benches, facing each other waiting for their appointments. Every one of them was wearing a blue burqa. I felt strongly that I was invading their privacy and breaking some cultural boundaries. But, the men we were there to see seemed comfortable so I just made sure I did not catch myself staring at the scene. There were many children waiting with their mothers and a few of them came over to sneak a peek at us.
Today we were back out in the countryside, visiting school projects in some local villages. The first one was a hike as it was off the beaten path. We left the main road on foot and walked along a dirt path between separate fields. Soon the dirt path turned to stones as it wound in between two walls about two feet high made of flat rock that reminded me of the old walls you can see in New England that have been there since the Revolutionary War days. The end of the trail led to two schools that were being built within the same compound. One was to be a high school for boys and the other a high school for girls. Even though they will have separate buildings, when the schools are finished the boys will go to school in the morning and the girls will go in the afternoon.
Later we visited another school that was actually in session. We went in and visited the classrooms. It was a new school that had just opened and they did not yet have desks, so all the kids in each room were sitting on the floor during the lessons. One of our interpreters is a female Afghan. She does not wear anything on her head (except a helmet when we are outside), and she definitely does not wear a burqa. It was amazing to see the reaction of the older boys, some of whom already had full beards. It is certainly possible that when our interpreter walked in she was the first adult female they had seen who was not a sister, mother, aunt, cousin or some type of relative. They were wide eyed and had big smiles on their face as she spoke to them. It was fascinating to see their expressions as they looked upon someone they were culturally forbidden to see.
We stopped a couple of other places and did some more walking. After awhile you barely notice the fifty pounds of body armor weighing down your shoulders. I have just a few days left here before I head off to Bagram for four days of training. Then it is back to Indiana for two and a half months of building a team to bring back to Kunar. Part of me would like to stay right here and skip Indiana altogether. But, I am excited to put my team together and to prepare them for an amazing experience. More later...
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Thursday, February 17, 2011
My First Mission
In my last post, I had just arrived in Indiana to start training for my assignment to Afghanistan. Now, I sit on the base that, in June, I will call home for awhile. There have been many adventures, misadventures and non-adventures in between the two posts, but connectivity and time have prevented me from updating on a regular basis. Now that things have settled a bit, I will play catch up with some late entries to document this crazy ride. But now, let me skip ahead to the present. I arrived at Camp Wright in Kunar Province after a week of travel and yesterday I participated in my first mission.
The mission was to attend a dedication ceremony for a school that had been built with the help of the Provincial Reconstruction Team. It was an hour drive from the base so we climbed into the vehicles early and made our to the village where the school was located. The road we took followed the path of the river that winds through the province. It was a narrow, paved road that had just enough room for our large vehicles to pass some of the local trucks that were navigating there way through the villages. The trucks are called jingle trucks because the owners decorate them in bright colors and hang a variety of bells, and tassles and doo-dads in the cab. Throughout the entire drive there were people walking along the road, kids playing, men riding bikes or small motorcycles and women dressed in burqas walking along with their children in tow. The burqa is the long blue gown that covers their head and face and flows all the down to their ankles. They have to look through a mesh screen to see out and they have no peripheral vision when wearing them. I think the only female I saw not wearing the full burqa was an old lady walking along the side of the road. She was wearing all black, including a hijab which is the scarf that covered her head but leaves the face exposed. Whenever we passed through a small village we would have to slow way down becuase the road would narrow even more and there were lots of people standing around watching us pass. When I saw people, of course, I mean men and children. The children seem to have no fear of the large vehicles we were in so the drivers had to be very cautious to ensure they did not miss any kids running out in front of them. Of course, when I say "did not miss" I do not mean, make sure they hit them...that would be bad. I mean make sure they were aware of where the kids were at all times. On our way back the kids became very bold and used our vehicles for target practice, often throwing rocks at us...very nice.
The ceremony was very formal. The school had a nice, ten foot wall around it creating a nice courtyard where the ceremony was held. The podium was placed at the entrance and the audience sat in white plastic chairs in the courtyard. Between our guys, the local police, and Aghan National Police and the provincial governor's guys there was plenty of security. A myriad of AK47s, M4s, rocket propelled grenade launchers and various other weapons were around. I have no doubt I was very intimidating with my little M9 pistol strapped to my leg. I think the only one afraid was me because I don't want to shoot myself in the foot. Once the ceremony began there were speeches. Many, many speeches by headmasters, and mullahs and elders and police chiefs and ministers of education and governors. Even the current PRT Commanding Officer gave a very nice, short speech. All the speeches were given in Pashto (except for the PRT CO), and unfortunately my four months of language training did little to help me understand what they were saying. I was able to pick up that they were talking about the school and teachers and students and the village, but I did not need any language training to figure that out since we were standing at a dedication ceremony for a new school (duh)! I was given an earpiece that allowed me to hear our interpreter giving instant translation of all the speeches. Some of them actually had great things to say. There was the talk of the need for peace and the end of war. There was the call to show the world that Afghanistan could take care of itself. There was the talk of Islam being a religion of peace. There was also the occasional speaker who would mention that the school was great but we have this other building with no running water, and we need this bridge repaired and we have other projects so when are you going to fix those? One speaker (who will remain nameless) even mentioned in the speech that he didn't like the color of the doors and windows in the new school and the next time a school was built he needed to be consulted because the doors and windows were not a good color (they were white...I liked them...I'm just sayin'). After the speeches there were gift exchanges. The speakers were given woolen robes or cloaks...sort of an Aghan snuggie. Alright they weren't snuggies because anyone knows you put a snuggie on from the front and these were not like that. The governor gave out pakols to many people in attendance. A pakol is a cloth hat that is worn throughout Afghanistan.
Once the ceremony was finally over, we were ushered inside for some food. That is where my worst nightmare came to reality. They motioned me into a room where we would be eating and there it was....a nice little feast layed out on a cloth on the floor. My first full day and I was going to have to sit on the floor cross legged. Not an easy task for someone with old knees and little to no flexibility (emphasis on the "no flexibility"). The main participants were eating in similar fashion in the hallway of the school but I was relegated to the peanut gallery in a separate room which was find with me. I strategically placed myself at the end so I could fold one leg but extend my other leg a bit past the end of the cloth that the food was placed. It was good. Large circular naan bread (although they don't call it naan), with rice, meat and fish. You tear off a piece of the bread and grab some rice or meat with the bread and eat it that way. No utensils required. There was also some vegetables, water and Mountain Dew which seems to be a staple of the Afghan diet.
We didn't stay long because it was time to head off to take a quick look at another school that was being built about ten minutes away. Same exact design, same contractor. It was interesting to see it halfway complete after just being in a school that represented the finished product. After walking around with the PRT engineer looking at the quality of work we jumped back in vehicles and headed back to the base. A successful first mission that provided some good insight into what I am in for over the next year.
As I said at the beginning, I will backfill you on how life at Camp Atterbury was and how our travel went getting out here. This post is a bit hurried but I wanted to get something out there. In the future I will bring more detail or imagery to the post if possible. Don't hesitate to leave a comment asking questions and I will be glad to answer. Plus it will prove someone actually read this! The adventure continues....
The mission was to attend a dedication ceremony for a school that had been built with the help of the Provincial Reconstruction Team. It was an hour drive from the base so we climbed into the vehicles early and made our to the village where the school was located. The road we took followed the path of the river that winds through the province. It was a narrow, paved road that had just enough room for our large vehicles to pass some of the local trucks that were navigating there way through the villages. The trucks are called jingle trucks because the owners decorate them in bright colors and hang a variety of bells, and tassles and doo-dads in the cab. Throughout the entire drive there were people walking along the road, kids playing, men riding bikes or small motorcycles and women dressed in burqas walking along with their children in tow. The burqa is the long blue gown that covers their head and face and flows all the down to their ankles. They have to look through a mesh screen to see out and they have no peripheral vision when wearing them. I think the only female I saw not wearing the full burqa was an old lady walking along the side of the road. She was wearing all black, including a hijab which is the scarf that covered her head but leaves the face exposed. Whenever we passed through a small village we would have to slow way down becuase the road would narrow even more and there were lots of people standing around watching us pass. When I saw people, of course, I mean men and children. The children seem to have no fear of the large vehicles we were in so the drivers had to be very cautious to ensure they did not miss any kids running out in front of them. Of course, when I say "did not miss" I do not mean, make sure they hit them...that would be bad. I mean make sure they were aware of where the kids were at all times. On our way back the kids became very bold and used our vehicles for target practice, often throwing rocks at us...very nice.
The ceremony was very formal. The school had a nice, ten foot wall around it creating a nice courtyard where the ceremony was held. The podium was placed at the entrance and the audience sat in white plastic chairs in the courtyard. Between our guys, the local police, and Aghan National Police and the provincial governor's guys there was plenty of security. A myriad of AK47s, M4s, rocket propelled grenade launchers and various other weapons were around. I have no doubt I was very intimidating with my little M9 pistol strapped to my leg. I think the only one afraid was me because I don't want to shoot myself in the foot. Once the ceremony began there were speeches. Many, many speeches by headmasters, and mullahs and elders and police chiefs and ministers of education and governors. Even the current PRT Commanding Officer gave a very nice, short speech. All the speeches were given in Pashto (except for the PRT CO), and unfortunately my four months of language training did little to help me understand what they were saying. I was able to pick up that they were talking about the school and teachers and students and the village, but I did not need any language training to figure that out since we were standing at a dedication ceremony for a new school (duh)! I was given an earpiece that allowed me to hear our interpreter giving instant translation of all the speeches. Some of them actually had great things to say. There was the talk of the need for peace and the end of war. There was the call to show the world that Afghanistan could take care of itself. There was the talk of Islam being a religion of peace. There was also the occasional speaker who would mention that the school was great but we have this other building with no running water, and we need this bridge repaired and we have other projects so when are you going to fix those? One speaker (who will remain nameless) even mentioned in the speech that he didn't like the color of the doors and windows in the new school and the next time a school was built he needed to be consulted because the doors and windows were not a good color (they were white...I liked them...I'm just sayin'). After the speeches there were gift exchanges. The speakers were given woolen robes or cloaks...sort of an Aghan snuggie. Alright they weren't snuggies because anyone knows you put a snuggie on from the front and these were not like that. The governor gave out pakols to many people in attendance. A pakol is a cloth hat that is worn throughout Afghanistan.
Once the ceremony was finally over, we were ushered inside for some food. That is where my worst nightmare came to reality. They motioned me into a room where we would be eating and there it was....a nice little feast layed out on a cloth on the floor. My first full day and I was going to have to sit on the floor cross legged. Not an easy task for someone with old knees and little to no flexibility (emphasis on the "no flexibility"). The main participants were eating in similar fashion in the hallway of the school but I was relegated to the peanut gallery in a separate room which was find with me. I strategically placed myself at the end so I could fold one leg but extend my other leg a bit past the end of the cloth that the food was placed. It was good. Large circular naan bread (although they don't call it naan), with rice, meat and fish. You tear off a piece of the bread and grab some rice or meat with the bread and eat it that way. No utensils required. There was also some vegetables, water and Mountain Dew which seems to be a staple of the Afghan diet.
We didn't stay long because it was time to head off to take a quick look at another school that was being built about ten minutes away. Same exact design, same contractor. It was interesting to see it halfway complete after just being in a school that represented the finished product. After walking around with the PRT engineer looking at the quality of work we jumped back in vehicles and headed back to the base. A successful first mission that provided some good insight into what I am in for over the next year.
As I said at the beginning, I will backfill you on how life at Camp Atterbury was and how our travel went getting out here. This post is a bit hurried but I wanted to get something out there. In the future I will bring more detail or imagery to the post if possible. Don't hesitate to leave a comment asking questions and I will be glad to answer. Plus it will prove someone actually read this! The adventure continues....
Thursday, February 3, 2011
In the Army Now
So, yesterday morning I set out from Washington DC at 4:16 in the morning for Camp Atterbury, Indiana to start the next chapter of this unlikely adventure. I had arrived back in DC earlier in the day after sneaking back to Washington State for a few days, just long enough to get a root canal, a new crown and to spend a couple of days with Midori and Sean. Tuesday night was spent in Northwest DC with my sister-in-law Marybeth and my lovely niece Emma (actually all of my nieces are lovely). David is off on his own adventures in Europe so the three of us had a wonderful going away dinner of homemade lasagna. Despite the arrival of the Storm of the Century, I was determined to arrive in Indiana on time as ordered and was on the road early.
My plan was to skirt the storm by keeping to the south through West Virginia and southern Ohio, coming up to Edinburgh (where Atterbury is located) from the south instead of through Indianapolis which was getting a good portion of the storm. Through the twelve hours I experienced everything from sun, fog, rain, freezing rain, snow, wind, etc. No hail...I didn't get to drive through any hail. The worst part was the patches of fog that I drove through at five in the morning. Leaning forward, straining to see the little white reflectors on the lane strips, trying to follow them and hoping they did not lead me off a cliff or into some cold body of water. The patches of fog would only last for a few minutes at a time as I went over the mountains, but it was tense nonetheless. As I arrived in Indiana the snow and wind really picked up but the roads remained clear so it was never really treacherous. Although I arrived in the general vicinity of the base in eleven hours, it took another hour to actually find the main gate. Mapquest did a great job getting me close but then went completely haywire once I got close and it ended up sending me down some snowy backroads to nowhere. Luckily I was saved by Chief Petty Officer Anderson who came out and met me alongside the highway and guided me in the rest of the way. Some interesting observations along the way:
-The rabbit that I swerved to miss at 65 MPH on the Interstate. He must have been frozen in terror because he absolutely was not moving as I went around him. I looked in my rearview mirror and, because it was dark I could not see the rabbit, I could see the semi right behind me. The truck driver did not swerve an inch so either the rabbit moved very quickly (although he was facing the wrong direction to get away), or the truck driver chocked up some more points for roadkill. I just did not see a good escape route for the poor bunny.
-Customer service in the "heartland" is...let us say...relaxed. Stopping at a McDonalds at 5:30 I had to stand there and watch as the guy making the egg mcmuffins had a near breakdown as he grew tired of the three women constantly bugging him for their orders. He threatened to "walk" if they didn't get off his back. He claimed he was "working as fast as I can. If y'all want these faster you can come back here and make them yourself!" I was glad one of the girls did finally go back there because I had noticed while he was putting together my mcgriddle sandwich that he wasn't wearing gloves. I thought this was odd because he was touching everything (sausage, eggs, cheese) with his bare hands. When the girl went back to help him she must have said something because he stopped and put gloves on. So he only touched half my sandwich with his hands...yumm. Amazingly enough there was only me and two other customers in the place. It wasn't like it was the noon rush hour.
-I also stopped at a Wal-Mart at the Ohio/Indiana border and was privileged to listen to Mabel the cashier banter about the weather with the old couple in front of me. Of course Mabel had a difficult time doing two things at once so as she was getting their change, she would have to stop to get her thoughts together so she could tell her story. No worries Mabel, take your time, there's just a blizzard outside and we have places to go but...you concentrate on your story. A sweet lady nonetheless (and I have no recollection what her real name was...Mabel sounded appropriate).
So, after twelve hours on the road I arrived. Of the thirteen people who were supposed to start their training yesterday guess how many actually made it to Camp Atterbury? Yes, you are correct...one. I was the only one who showed up. The others had the good sense to hunker down somewhere and wait out the storm. Some had no choice since they were flying in and had their flights cancelled. Others stayed in hotels in Indianapolis (wimps). Last night, Chief Anderson gave me a brief tour of the base (including the minimum security prison which is located smack-dab in the middle of the base...note to self, do not wear a bright orange stocking cap while I am here...don't want to be mistaken for the wrong type of tenant) and then left me to settle in to my new home. My new home is an eighty man open bay barracks...envision Stripes or Full Metal Jacket or any other Army movie that shows rows of metal bunk beds and foot lockers. Yep, I have the whole place to myself. The last time I stayed in a place like this was when I came back in the Navy in 1985. The nostalgia is washing over me...okay not really. Since I am the only one in the place I was able to pick out a prime bunk in the corner away from the Head/Latrine/restroom and away from the door to the frigid outside. Since I am a Master Snorer, I thought about picking a bunk right in the middle so all of my compadres would benefit from the soothing sounds of my evening log sawing, but I thought better of it and put myself in the corner.
Now I write this at 5:00 AM sitting in my bunk, covered by my cherished, bright orange Oregon State snuggie (the best Xmas gift ever!). In a few moments I will shower and change into my Army cammies. I tried them on the other night in DC. It felt like Halloween. Time to get used to it. At least it says US Navy on the front. Guess I will go check out the chow hall and see how the National Guard does breakfast. More later!
My plan was to skirt the storm by keeping to the south through West Virginia and southern Ohio, coming up to Edinburgh (where Atterbury is located) from the south instead of through Indianapolis which was getting a good portion of the storm. Through the twelve hours I experienced everything from sun, fog, rain, freezing rain, snow, wind, etc. No hail...I didn't get to drive through any hail. The worst part was the patches of fog that I drove through at five in the morning. Leaning forward, straining to see the little white reflectors on the lane strips, trying to follow them and hoping they did not lead me off a cliff or into some cold body of water. The patches of fog would only last for a few minutes at a time as I went over the mountains, but it was tense nonetheless. As I arrived in Indiana the snow and wind really picked up but the roads remained clear so it was never really treacherous. Although I arrived in the general vicinity of the base in eleven hours, it took another hour to actually find the main gate. Mapquest did a great job getting me close but then went completely haywire once I got close and it ended up sending me down some snowy backroads to nowhere. Luckily I was saved by Chief Petty Officer Anderson who came out and met me alongside the highway and guided me in the rest of the way. Some interesting observations along the way:
-The rabbit that I swerved to miss at 65 MPH on the Interstate. He must have been frozen in terror because he absolutely was not moving as I went around him. I looked in my rearview mirror and, because it was dark I could not see the rabbit, I could see the semi right behind me. The truck driver did not swerve an inch so either the rabbit moved very quickly (although he was facing the wrong direction to get away), or the truck driver chocked up some more points for roadkill. I just did not see a good escape route for the poor bunny.
-Customer service in the "heartland" is...let us say...relaxed. Stopping at a McDonalds at 5:30 I had to stand there and watch as the guy making the egg mcmuffins had a near breakdown as he grew tired of the three women constantly bugging him for their orders. He threatened to "walk" if they didn't get off his back. He claimed he was "working as fast as I can. If y'all want these faster you can come back here and make them yourself!" I was glad one of the girls did finally go back there because I had noticed while he was putting together my mcgriddle sandwich that he wasn't wearing gloves. I thought this was odd because he was touching everything (sausage, eggs, cheese) with his bare hands. When the girl went back to help him she must have said something because he stopped and put gloves on. So he only touched half my sandwich with his hands...yumm. Amazingly enough there was only me and two other customers in the place. It wasn't like it was the noon rush hour.
-I also stopped at a Wal-Mart at the Ohio/Indiana border and was privileged to listen to Mabel the cashier banter about the weather with the old couple in front of me. Of course Mabel had a difficult time doing two things at once so as she was getting their change, she would have to stop to get her thoughts together so she could tell her story. No worries Mabel, take your time, there's just a blizzard outside and we have places to go but...you concentrate on your story. A sweet lady nonetheless (and I have no recollection what her real name was...Mabel sounded appropriate).
So, after twelve hours on the road I arrived. Of the thirteen people who were supposed to start their training yesterday guess how many actually made it to Camp Atterbury? Yes, you are correct...one. I was the only one who showed up. The others had the good sense to hunker down somewhere and wait out the storm. Some had no choice since they were flying in and had their flights cancelled. Others stayed in hotels in Indianapolis (wimps). Last night, Chief Anderson gave me a brief tour of the base (including the minimum security prison which is located smack-dab in the middle of the base...note to self, do not wear a bright orange stocking cap while I am here...don't want to be mistaken for the wrong type of tenant) and then left me to settle in to my new home. My new home is an eighty man open bay barracks...envision Stripes or Full Metal Jacket or any other Army movie that shows rows of metal bunk beds and foot lockers. Yep, I have the whole place to myself. The last time I stayed in a place like this was when I came back in the Navy in 1985. The nostalgia is washing over me...okay not really. Since I am the only one in the place I was able to pick out a prime bunk in the corner away from the Head/Latrine/restroom and away from the door to the frigid outside. Since I am a Master Snorer, I thought about picking a bunk right in the middle so all of my compadres would benefit from the soothing sounds of my evening log sawing, but I thought better of it and put myself in the corner.
Now I write this at 5:00 AM sitting in my bunk, covered by my cherished, bright orange Oregon State snuggie (the best Xmas gift ever!). In a few moments I will shower and change into my Army cammies. I tried them on the other night in DC. It felt like Halloween. Time to get used to it. At least it says US Navy on the front. Guess I will go check out the chow hall and see how the National Guard does breakfast. More later!
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