Ark builders please apply 11/28/11 (late post)

We had our first official flood warning this weekend and what a bust! They had sand bags stacked and ditches dug. KBR (competitor company), is digging the ditches without a place to drain, so it's really a moat. I guess that's fair play since they lost the medical...most of the contracts here. I don't get it. They were suppose to be the bomb, absolute best company to work for. They are the construction team, their roads are pristine while ours and the others have huge craters and ruts that even the barricades have fallen in. hilarious!  We were tripping all over the place. Some more than others. I officially whooped my legs into the air and landed on my arse right after a shower, and I was the only one with a flashlight and it hadn't even started raining. Go figure.

The rainy season here starts about now and rumor has it that it can get pretty ugly. The water supposedly gets high enough to need waders for a month or two. Well, it flooded a few weeks back and many people lost everything. They got about 2-3 feet of water, so naturally people freak at the slightest cloud. The official warning went something like this... extreme rain and flooding expected this weekend. Get your gear in plastic bags and store high... Good idea, but where do they suppose we store things? There is a very limited amount of space afford to each individual. I actually have more room in my closet at home and here I have to share that space with my bed. So that's where I'm storing my rainy day snacks so do not have to trek to the chow hall for meals in the sludge. It did downpour a couple of times, but by the time I ran out it had all evaporated. It did get incredibly muddy and slippery at times. I trust it will come and I will be unprepared because there is no way to prepare for Afghanistan.

I did go to the nearest PX for rain boots - HA! Ha! I'm so funny! Of course they were out! They clean out of most things quickly. It's the size of Sam's Club, but it's the only store. Can we all say monopoly... well, it's their game and I'm just a contractor. I fortunately am toting my all season coat and it's better than nothing. Not that I'm complaining. Some of the FN's have their coats with garbage bags over them. Not that it's a bad idea, but I don't really see how that helps. Go ahead and wear a garbage bag for a minute. You heat up inside of there and sure enough the moisture gets in and quickly everything is wet inside too, but now you're just a sticky mess. Or maybe it's a sneaky plan used to smother the nearest towel head Taliban.

 It's late and I'm always goofy when it's late. So instead of writing letters to the President and my congressman...does anyone remember the Calderon episode when I thought it would be funny to send an email to the President of Mexico.. forget it ..long story, and apparently I was the only one amused and have agreed never to write him again...I safely write in my blog.

Thank God I'm writing this blog so in years to come when I'm bitching about rain, I can look back and be thankful for what I have!

Life at the Big House 11/29/11

Being a women in a male dominated society- I had heard all of these horror stories; rape, mutilation, hate crimes against us women contractors.... what a crock. It's not happening here. Or I might be on the precipice of old lady... The horror!
I was the Queen of never leave the house without your lipstick. Also, did I not have the best cleavage in town with the highest heels...well, I showed it the most anyway. It's sort of a relief not to primp anymore. I tried when I got here...no wait... it didn't even last through Dubai with all of the heat and talcum/sand. Well,  I love it that everyone likes me for who I am.

I have a huge benefit with my age. 1st, no one ever guesses. 2nd, the younger girls and guys just love telling me of their exploits. My own kids don't even do that. It's really fun to listen to them. 3, I can eat dessert! I lost a butt, but now I think I'm ready to take it back- Ha! I never thought I'd see this day, but I say embrace it!

Speaking of sweets, there is no Starbucks or McDonald's here. There is a coffee place called Green Beans- how ever did they get that name? It's run by Nepalese people that make their addition of coffee that you must acquire a taste for. It's something like stale and burnt all at once. YUK! It doesn't even taste as good as the real green beans in the DFAC. (hum, maybe they brew those) So I search out the USO contributors for the armed forces at most MWR's (entertainment centers with free internet, phones and TV's set to the latest sports), where they have flavor add ins, real cream and great coffee. Being a coffee junkie, I supply the creamer at the office or I don't get it. I had thought that I was the only one that drank coffee with creamer until I started buying it and like wa-laa, it's gone!

The one benefit that I don't get- no one gets, is the latrine called the green rocket. It's a nasty port-a potty that 500 people have been using for the past 3 days because our water has been turned off. I don't know if this was in anticipation of the flood or what. But I know there is water somewhere. It's horrible and I can not believe how fast it has filled up. The boys (and I say that loosely), have made it game to fill it up with their most disgusting waste...in a pile...so now you can gag from the visual that I've had to endure- so gross! I did finally get to experience the bottled water showers. One time would've done it...but no!!!! The Canadians left the country- hurray, because that means that we can sneak over to their deserted compound and use the showers- just a block away versus the mile walk as before. Their water is shut off too, but it beats pouring bottled water over yourself in the cold Afghan morn.

The Canadians really did pack up and take off. They're not much for stamina anyway...so go. They packed up everything. It's funny to see just rows upon rows of cement slabs where their bunks were. They left the shower conex , (it looks like the metal box on the back of a semi truck),  and they left the most fabulous wood covered deck, like 20 x 30. I took my supervisor past it and wondered aloud how we could transfer it the 4 blocks to our site. It would be great for our hang out area...geez, we have 3 broken desk chairs a very dirty bench that no one will sit on that holds our ashtray and 2 school room desks for 4 people that were made for elementary kids and the seats don't even swivel. Not that I'm complaining. I'll always have fond memories of that area right outside of our clinic.

My conex is a tiny 10 x 6 room that houses 4 women in two bunkbeds. It stinks because it's also where we store our dirty laundry and it is also downwind of the dreaded poo pond. The top bunks were made especially for basketball players with no rails to help you out. I had a top bunk for two nights and I made one of the girls push me up because my feet wouldn't reach so that I could push myself up. Hilarious! One of the girls got a up for a midnight jaunt to the latrine and hung herself by her dogtags. Thank God they broke. 

So that's life at KAF. Although there's much to do here and it's a big place, it is starting to feel like my own. 

Breaking barriers Blog, I got another one in-yeah!

One of my favorite friends here is from Pakistan. I'm a blurb-er- who would've guessed?? I so rudely said that I would've have guessed because he's so nice. He replied that my views were shaped by the media. Well, what am I to think when that's where Bin Laden was found? But my buddy Shumail or Shumie is incredible and peaceful and kind. He vacations in China and has invited me to visit his home if I should ever get to Islamabad. He tells me of his home and his family- really, only Americans share details. This is an honor and reserved for close friends. The rest of the world think we are nosey.

Speaking of, the other day I was walking out of the DFAC (chow hall), and one of the (Afghan) tray collectors said to me- Hello! How are you ma'am? OK- usually I wince with the ma'am thing...and I have been successful to not reply- piss off...but, I was unbelievably shocked! The rest of the world, or the non-Americans think that the our greetings as "how are you" are nosey and unacceptable. We do it without thinking- OK, so hence...But the dude had the biggest smile and I had to reply, "Hello back and how are you today?" He was so pleased with his reply, "Very well thank you."

Today, I have to share with you a story of an American soldier who came to KAF base to stay at the Wounded Soldier's Hospital. Now picture an eating hall where hundreds of people are in various forms of eating. Now see the wounded soldier with his bilateral crutches trying to limp to a table with his tray in the mists of harried diners. Unbelief to me that no one stopped what they were doing to help him. Yes...of course I did. And he did not want the help, but too bad. So, I went and got him drinks and dessert too! Thank every soldier that you see for their service that provides our freedom and maybe one day soon you too may be able to serve them in return.

Next, I've hung out with Bosnians. Croatians, Macedonians, Italians, only Brits speak of their home (maybe to make us jealous that we broke away?). None speak of their family's and it's culturally rude to say for example, " How's your family?" so, a few days ago one of the guys was very homesick and seeing me sitting alone on the smoking bench, always available for conversation, started off telling me about his 4 month old son and his 3 yr old son. The sacrifice of his being away broke my heart. Then he told me of South Lake in Bosnia and the beauty of the country. Another ran up to me later to tell me that so & so's Mom died 4 days ago and he had just gotten word of it. Americans have the Red Cross for such emergencies. I went to talk to the grief ridden person to offer comfort and to help get him home. We are so privileged that it never occurred to me that everyone doesn't have such resources.

Another time, I went for my morning smoke, ( Geeezzz, is that all I do is smoke? It's funny that I didn't start up again until I got here). An Indian guy who I knew a little and likes to practice his English on me struck up a conversation. Most Indians will not speak English, but can read it. He was telling me of the politics and conflict between India and China, (I had no idea...Americans have enough to deal with...OK I'm a little ignorant). China is also in a border dispute with Pakistan- WOW! Does China like anyone? The story goes that China is losing the war due to the Indian Gods who are helping the Indians fight. The Chinese never see the bullets coming and are getting smashed! He is very convincing in his story, but I am thrilled that he's going through the trouble of explaining everything to me and in English.

And lastly, the girls from the UK who were a blast! We drank near beer and with them it felt like the real thing. They spoke of their lives, and the pubs, and their jobs, and the pubs, and their boyfriends, and the pubs, and the pubs and the pubs. They were always laughing and they had just got stuck in camp for a week, but it felt like a lifetime. I was very sorry to see them leave.

OK, one more...One black American man walked up to me, in front of the co-worker that said I was too friendly, and said to me, "You are so nice. You'd walk a mile to put a smile on a sad face and I really appreciate that so far from home." Am I tooting my own horn? Not really. I have a great gift from the Lord and I will not throw it away no matter who cuts me down.

So, that's all I have for today. Miss ya all!

Can't we all get along? 11/26/11

        I really appreciate the thought of some of you sending me gifts, especially the Parkas- but, I do have yet have a home base and I won't get anything for months if sent. Thanks for the thought. It is very appreciated.
Memories are what occupies everyone's mind today. We have just been though Thanksgiving and thoughts of our family's and friends ... One old fart put on heavy metal music today, hoping that the coolness of it would fertilize his balding head and remove the paunch of his gut as it rolls over his belt. No, I don't like this fellow...read on. Old times, past times to remember and reflect. But across the street...
The servicemen- these days are the things of memories. "Thank you for serving: is my greeting to them all. There's a definite distinction between them and us contractors. Except with me. How fortunate I am!
Today, I went to lunch with the rest of my office, 5 of us in all. As every Mom knows when kids are in a group, no matter how big or small they must be in an even number because somebody will get left out. Today was my day. Unfortunately it's happened many times this week- wah, wah! Another story, another day. I have spent many meals this week with other friends due to the viciousness of one person. Today I was invited to accompany the work crew and then they sat at a table for four. I could have pulled a chair over and been in the in the way- inconveniencing everyone else. It was like it was planned . You just don't sit 5 at this table. I thought of being mean and doing it anyway, but I was being intentionally left out and it really hurt my feelings. (Visual here)...Most people dress in dull desert colors with the exception of us- medical. We stick out like a sore thumb or a supreme target for the Taliban in our bright ocean deep blue shirts that also come in fire engine red! So, there I am, pushed away, odd kid out and slowly I scan the room for a friend. I can do this. I'm better than them- sniff. I have lots of friends. I walk tentatively towards some Bosnians that do not speak English well but will be most welcoming, guaranteed! A soldier at the same table who I knew not at all was looking at my shame and whispering to his buddy's and as I approached, they stood and asked me to join them for lunch. My eyes teared up. It was great conversation and they knew me from saying hi and my thank yous to them - which they thought was kind. It was me who was very grateful. After lunch, the Bosnian guys were walking with us and people came up to me talking about the snub, and how wrong...blah, blah. It was big gossip that day. and when I was asked about it, I just said, there was no problem. I was just having lunch with my friends!                                       

It's messed up here - blog with a picture of the Poo Pond at sunset 11/25/11

Afghanistan weather is weird. It beats Michigan weather hands down. You wake to winter and it's freezing, and you spend the day till 3 pm peeling layers off until the high of 80 or somewhere around that. Then you're ready for a nice dip in a pool that's located in dreamland, because the only water around here is bottled. This is the very reason that I had to bring a little of every season in clothing. When I go to bed the tent is still hot and stuffy from the day, so someone has the air conditioning on. My big news was I finally got passed the remote control to the heater and air conditioner units. YEAH! Only the highest in seniority get to hold it and while I moved from FOB to FOB, I still had the highest seniority, once I returned back to Shangri La. I asked to move to the tent with all of my friends only to have all of the bitches...oops, my friends move to their own assigned private rooms. And they left me with the TCN's, (third country nationals) who don't or won't speak English. The temperature control units are located near the ceiling and only an amazon could reach it with a ladder, then they need to know how to work it. Mere mortals have no power to reach it, hence the remote. And I have it! YEAH! In Kenya, it must be 200 degrees year round because those little girls are freezing all of the time. They walk around with their 70's coats: warm, short, furry collars... ala Pat Benatar. I can be comfortable or I can be nice because I'm totally surrounded by Kenyans as my UK buddies have gone home as well. Then my good buddy in billeting (room assignments) had some mercy on me and gave me my own room too. Very big no, no for a passer by as me. Short are my success'.
The class system for every particular country is very visible here.. Top dogs are in top positions and the lowest do very low jobs: sort garbage, do laundry, pot washers, clean toilets. Jobs for which somebody has to do and I'm very grateful and always thank them for their duty to their task.
It's also amazing that everyone has to be able to read and write English to work here, but the lowly masses can't speak it. This is suppose to change this year if they want to keep their jobs, Amazing! It's more weeding of the haves and don't want. You'd think the hiring process would have identified these things that could get in the way. I have no problem with them. I just write it down and have them read. It works out just fine. Another thing is who do you think will do these crappy jobs for peanuts- not Americans. I was thinking of jumping ship and was offered a job doing something totally different. They told me the pay and I swore it was too low per year...so, No Thank You...Then the guy said, No, It's per month. I'm sending my resume tonight! Pray for me! The job is only available to Americans. I don't know what to say- WTH or thank you God or both. What a world that we live in.                       

Thankful 11/24/11

Today I made the Happy Thanksgiving call to the family. I cried and got a little homesick- something that never happens here because they keep me pretty busy and even down times is just another minute blending into the last. So my call went something like this...hold on, we're taking group pictures...love you, (snap). OK, we held up the phone so you are in the shot too. FUNNY! That's a picture I'll always remember. I'm very thankful for my family and my friends too!

Let's talk about a girl in hell base. She was a very bad girl. She pointed out a very wrong of a medic's performance to a patient and subsequently was yelled at, (because she baby's patients), and now sits in the corner getting her licks, (at another base). Priorities of upper management can be so backwards and especially in a war zone when you don't have resources: remediate the abusive medic- maybe send them to PTSS (post traumatic stress syndrome) counseling, or something in that line. NOOOOO, punish the girl who told! Say that her skills are sub par. Say that she is too friendly.
So she sits being watched at all times. She had a babysitter in the form of a badge that allows you no access to food or showers, wander alone to church or the store or even the laundry mat. And the beat all, make the babysitters many of the people that she works with. How sick can your co-workers get from having to tote you around when they'd rather be home after a hard day's work. I'm thankful that I got my big girl badge yesterday and can go most anywhere that I want by myself!

So she prays for the Lord's strength, endurance, hope, knowledge, peace and she acknowledges all the blessings that have come out of this trial... meeting others like her and co-workers who slip and tell her it will soon end, it's happened to so many others. And she just puts one foot in front of the other day in and day out with the grace of God and forever holding his hand. I can not imagine how non- Christians get through life. Who do they depend on? Who gives them hope? Trials must happen to strengthen us. It rains on the saved and unsaved alike. I know that and I welcome the chance to grow in my Lord always. I am thankful that I believe and am firmly in Christ!

So a story to end my blog is about the poo pond that is getting far too much attention. I even bought the t-shirt. I can't wear it here...that would be disgusting when that's all you can smell at times no matter where you are. I was eating breakfast yesterday and the smell wafted through. That was the end of that meal! Someone actually brought in pictures of a beautiful sunset over the poo pond. It has finally made it to the big times and is now a tourist attraction. It has cute little signs around it such as like Area 51 Poo, Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory, you get the idea. Unfortunately, the last guy who jumped into the poo pond on a dare, died. Put shit together with lots of chemicals that will eat you alive and you get a quick ticket to heaven. And the smell is a constant reminder that everything can kill you here. This is the end of the world. The sign that says, "Welcome to Afghanistan"  should say,"Welcome to hell." I am thankful that even though I work here, I was born in the USA!

So I give thanks along with everyone for another year of life, and always for my freedom, health and love from all and to all.....Happy Thanksgiving!

How much is too much? I snuck a blog 11/24

How much is too much? I wish today's blog was funnier, but war is not funny and this is just one episode.
Nights ago on the tiny FOB-foreign operating base, that I lived on, the military conducted a raid on our camp. No ex-pats were bothered, (Americans, British). I watched as foreign nationals (FN's) shoved their possesions here and there to hide stuff that would be confiscated. Things like laptops, hard drives, cell phones, flash drives, I-pods.Not understanding what was happening, I thought that maybe a spy had gotten on the base. It was with extreme horror that they seemed to focus on the Bosnians and Kenyans on this particular raid. They searched and frisked..I watched in horror and disbelief as my buddies were taken away. The feeling was simular to your drunk and driving friends. They won't let you drive because it's their car and, "hey! I'm not that drunk". They are impervious to death. So, you try to follow them but, sure enough they get pulled over and when the police try to arrest them, you sit helplessly by wanting to run after the cop to defend them pleading..He really is a good guy. I've know him and I can vouch for him...please don't arrest him! Then your buddy pulls a gun and your resolve is shot to hell. So this was how it was. I watched as the US soldiers took one after another of my buddies into custody. After they searched them they were taken to their rooms for a search for prohibited items. I was asked to accompany the bomb sniffing dogs with their masters in the girls compound. I asked them what it was the dogs were searching for? Bombs! They were searching for BOMBS! They can be made with hairspray, strike matches, after shave, ect... I had no idea. It's amazing the crap that can be acquired to kill someone else. And when did Bosnia become the enemy? When did they make the super dangerous to Americans watch list? Am I stupid? Then I watched as the military brough out bags of stuff that I now knew could be used to mutilate me without a thought for my family, friends or children. Or was that harmless stuff used for their everyday comfort? I am suspicious of everyone on a normal day, but even that side swiped me. SO, after everything was over, the Bosnians- my buddies looked at me with disgust because I was one of them- American. Gone were the conversations spoken in English because I was present. I asked if everyone was OK. One guy said, why are you worried, you are American. I said I wasn't worried for myself but for them and then I left gut punched and out of breath.
Today was another day and I'm more liked than ever by them. I should be on a box of Wheatie's according to the Bosnians. Because I worried for them? Gone were the steotypes TCN, FN, AMericans, because I cared for them. WTH? What kind of a world do I live in? Does this make me less suspicious? Actually I go with the crowd that says anything for my safety. But again I will say that the good Lord did not put me here to blow me up. So when is it enough or how much is too much? I'll let you know another time...missile attack and going to the bunkers!                                               

Flu Shots, get your Flu Shots!

This week we are giving mass flu shots through-out the camp. I'm the no pain girl. I have studied and took classes on how to lessen a patients pain and even how to relieve pain- But shots? There's no getting around it. It Hurts!

No one likes to get fooled into a shot. You know the game, "Look, there goes Johnny Depp", to make them turn their heads while you stab them in the deltoid. You have to approach it with kindness and respect. So I started out with the, look the other way- stab. This works on 50% of the people. The others are peeved! Capitalize that!!!

I had a lady that was wiggling and panting and moving in ways no human should while reminding me continuously that she hates shots. I merely swabbed her arm to elicit a blood curdling scream...at which point I secretly poked her...but soothingly I showed her the alcohol swab while I wiped her arm and said, "all done!" She opened her eyes in disbelief and I even had to show her the pin prick. She had not felt it.

The Indians, Napalese and Pakistani's stand in line like it's a big screen TV give away and Thank you for their shot. It's health care that they don't get at home.

I did get a huge man that was afraid- deathly afraid of shots. I said a quick prayer that I wouldn't have to catch him should he faint. We did breathing exercises ala Lamaze. I figured the extra oxygen wouldn't hurt. Just when he was ready to push that baby out, or in this case exhale hard, I poked him. He didn't feel a thing and it's a fact that you can't feel pain and exhale out hard. You can't do both. Are we not amazing machines!  Unfortunately, the anticipation did him in and although he didn't weeble, he did wobble on out, but he didn't fall down.

Then there's the man that came in with a forged note from his doctor. Nice try! And some of the kids are hiding...out of sight, out of mind- LOL!!! This shot is a requirement to stay in country. You get shot or you go home. Hey, I should be a slogan writer!

During a break, I strolled out for a smoke and everyone cleared out quick like. Now come on! Did I look like I had needles sticking out of my pockets? Hey! What an idea. I'm afraid by Wednesday I'm going to have to lasso and 4 point people into compliance. Not that I wouldn't mind drop kicking a person or two around here... Oh, none of the peons like me.  I also wouldn't mind tackling some of the cute guys around here , but I am trying to stay age appropriate.

It is very cute how some want to show up their friends and jump in my seat excitedly and even offer to take another for their buddy.

Then there are the ones that ask if the shot hurts. I reply that," I don't feel a thing." It was real funny until last night after loading hundreds of doses without gloves that I got vomitus selectus and runsarrhea. That's my medical term for I got the flu... a mini version. No more Ha! Ha! for me...

I have an idea! Let drop flu bombs on the Taliban. They'll be so busy doing the poopie shuffle and writhing in fever pain that we can take back Afghanistan and declare peace in the land.  Unfortunately it spreads like wildfire and I fear the good people of Afghanistan would suffer. Flu deaths are impossible to predict, but range from 3,000- 40,000 in a year. The complications such as pneumonia can kill you too. So get your flu shot!

A fluff day

                     

Today I met a couple of guys from the Philippines. I love meeting people from all over the world, but people from the Philippines I have an automatic in with . All I have to do is tell them my last name- Briones. They then asked me where my family is from to which I respond- Mexico. They always bust out in laughter. In the Philippines, the name Briones is like Robinson in the US. I reply that we swam a long way, (while mimicking the back stroke for effect)...they always remember me.

People come and go all of the time. This is also the worse part of being overseas, like the military. You make friendships and before you know it someone is transferred elsewhere. It's like commodities- supply and demand. Except here, they will trade a FN (Foreign National- anyone outside of the US) for an American to keep all things equal. I've heard that it's by the contract of the particular company. Something like the hospitals in Detroit that can only hire half the staff in Canadians and other foreigners, unless there's special need. Then they can hire more. It makes no sense. You may have a great team, but then they'll need an American elsewhere and they split up the team. It happens to all nationalities. I have a Bosnian friend that was ripped from the FOB (foreign operating base) to go up north to another FOB. Then we found out it was an equal trade because there were not enough Americans at that base. Well, I think that they should hire more! I know the world struggles with unemployment and low wages...but so do we. I have 6 friends cleared and waiting to come- hire them! Problem solved. I believe I'll work on world hunger next.

We write and promise to see each other again. It does give you something to look forward to. I bet it was like mail call back in the day for the military. For example: my friend Jackline, (from Kenya) wrote to me from a former base that I was at. She wanted to tell me all about the guy that she liked, (from India). I just happened to remember this man because it was odd to see a tall, muscular, very handsome, GQ kind of guy that was also Indian. So I say good taste Jackline. I would love just once to measure the speed on her when she's talking. I know it would be in excess of 110 mph. She talks like she's running out of time and combined with her accent made for some funny chats. I once said that what I did was Stuuuu -pid and that made her laugh so hard. Now it's like a code word. very cute! But emails are the best. I'm still getting them from the tiny FOB that I left behind. I was only there 2 weeks and I've been gone almost a week. Good people were there!

But I have some great friends here at Dwyer too. The last time I left, some threw a party...hmmmm, that doesn't sound too good now that I read it in print. And I even got a cake- and not in the face. FUN! I witnessed a few wonderful parties here. One group was having a surprise birthday party for one of the guys who dressed as a girl and jumped out of a wrapped up box. It was hilarious. The guy looked better as a women and I heard he got quite a few numbers! The Indians had a birthday party for their friend. They walked out with this elaborate cake, wishing him a very happy birthday, then each of them grab some cake and smear it in his face. So much fun! Even though the birthday boy expected it and you could see it on his face that he hoped they would not do it this time...it was all in fun and what a cultural difference. I'll have to surprise someone in my family with a very Indian birthday! That will keep them on their toes!!

But I'm missing my family and friends from back home too. I still can't keep the time straight here, so if I dial you up at 2am please do not hang up on me. I'm a very desperate person...no really, I just can't keep the time difference straight. Love you all!

                          

Send me a parka, I'm freezing!

Winter is officially here at the Sandbox. We had a little sandstorm, then a little rain and waa- la...winter. It dropped at least 40 degrees over a few hours. I been taking a lot of crap over my luggage, which really wasn't that much for a girl- I might add, but included an all seasons coat good up to/down to (?) 20 below- hurray! It is cold at 33 degrees here. The poor Kenyans are layered like Ralphie's little brother (The Christmas Story), and I'm waiting for them to fall over from the layers- insert chuckle here! You can definitely tell who comes from the north. They are still walking around in short sleeves, in fact, I saw a Bosnian guy who had just jumped out of the shower and came for his bedtime smoke in......drum roll.... shorts and a t-shirt....really! I'm from Michigan and you don't see me acting a fool. But, I've also had a tiny little thought that I was switched at birth with a kid that's enjoying hot weather in Texas. I just can't explain looking exactly like the family that I'm with.

Another thing about getting cold here, it stirs all of the critters. I've seen snake trails in the bunkers and rat foot prints...OK they are probably mice, but who cares when they're climbing into your sleeping bag. Everything's trying to find a warm spot.  It's really hilarious to hear people scream over the radios that they need vector,(exterminators) right now to... and vector doesn't respond. I can't tell if they are busy as all get out or if they're giggling on the other end. There is talk/rumors going around of a rat infestation across the street where the poorer foreigners live. They sleep 80 to a tent....whew! I could barely tolerate the 12 princesses I was stuck with. Back to bugs... There are also these nearly invisible spiders that can do a number on you when they're biting a trail up your arm. All things are biting and trying to store up a fat layer. We have very tiny lady bugs. Precious name...lady bugs. We all know that as the world had evolved and the weaker species has been winnowed out, so has the lady bug who has strapped on killer pinchers becoming smaller and meaner.  We have had 2 cases of this little undesirable lady crawling into ear canals.  I was the lucky one who knew what it possibly was and flew out of bed to make a night time trip to the clinic where I tried to drown the bitch.  Remembering that she might float, I put my ear down and shined a flashlight and she swam right out where I promptly smashed her!

The army really hooked me up for the cold! There's 3 colors of sleeping bags: red, green and back. Red are soft and cozy if you need a little warmth and it's 60 degrees outside. Green are good until about 30 degrees. Black is good until 60 below. So I walked in initially to a new clinic in a new setting, Sept 27th in Kandahar when it was 140 degree- welcome to Afghanistan! and everyone laughed at my black sleeping bag telling me that it will be too hot and I'll never need it.  Next base that I went to, same thing. The girls were laughing telling me I should have brought linen from home.  How could I sleep comfortably wrapped up in that?  Well ...Ha!Ha!Ha!  Who's laughing now.  No one was expecting it to get this cold this early in the year.  Even with the space heater in the room cranked as high as it will go, as soon as someone opens the door the heat goes out and it's back to square one. But, I sleep snugly and very warm and comfortably! Thank you US Army!

Time for bed...please pray that my black sleeping bag is still on my bed! Nite all!

Rolling, Rolling, Rolling....

                                 

I'm on the move again... from Howz-E-Madad back to Shangri- La...

I loved that little base. What a ring to the name...Howz-E-Madad.  There was a coffee shop complete with a hooka pipe, though I never partook of that.  And it was great fun meeting my friends up there and watching the Afghan army drive like Batman, and the Americans as they acted like indulgent parents .  And for a little base they surprisingly had lots to do.  Like one night, one of the girls came and got me after work for aerobics class. Now, I'm thinking...WTH??? (my little joke to Colleen. It's my signature saying), I'm tired!  Aerobics should be first thing in the morning.  Not when I'm dead tired. But, as the little joiner that I am, I went.  We were the only women there! No yippee this time.  As every women secretly knows- letting a guy see you in your sweats with drippy hair and smelly sweat under your arms and neckline is a definite no, no.  But since me and my new buddy were almost the oldest females there...I figured, who cares.  And the leader/ head Nazi worked my butt off! There was no slacking in her class...she had no sympathy that it was my first day and the class lasted every minute of an hour.  I tried to pause during sit ups...the kind with your hips in the air and your legs pointed straight up and then your head wrenched to your chest and sit up- whew!  You must do this 10 times, no pause , then count 10 back, then bend one leg and count, then bend the other leg and again.  It's exhausting to write about it.... and that was after 15 minutes of various other sit-ups, so I thought I deserved a little break.  The leader/head Nazi turned around so quick, looking back at me with her double jointed neck and busted I was!  She said, "Hey! 20 more because of lazy Ma-le'-a."  That did not endear me to the other classmates.  Army guy said, shit, and alternated with "move it Maria."  Really though, everybody was a good sport.  They were already chiseled and my clothes are looser for the effort.  I went every night, so it was no wonder I slept so well.

Speaking of sleep.... One night, I slept through an attack.  The tent mates asked what happened to me???  I'm like, "whatttt???"  I guess we had some loud mortar fire and guns were blazing during the night.  It's not like everybody got out of their cushy beds to hop into the cold, filthy, dark bunkers.  Everyone talked about it the next day so I'm sure it was something!  I told them that they could poke me awake or tell the Taliban to do it gently because I'm not always nice Maria when my sleep is broken... and I do have my brand new trustie knife... Really.... as I've said more than once, the good Lord did not put me here to blow me up.  I heard much gunfire and explosions the day before I left.  It even whipped my hair around, (can my hair get anymore burnt?), and I was sitting in my office tent.  No damage to the base.  So I got my leader co-worker who knows everything and everybody and we made a beeline to the mortar range (where they play- Take that you A_ _ Ho_ _!), to take pictures.  Unfortunately, they were clearing out the tree lines/ Taliban, ( that's off base a-ways)...nothing to see unless we go to the wall.  Bummer... I am in the middle of a war zone and I am fine.  Sometimes we run for the bunkers...and I usually have a deck of cards for that, though the old guard frowns on it.  We should be properly afraid and on guard at all times.  I figure that when my time comes, I want to be having fun or sleeping (which is fun too).  But winter is coming and like bears ...everything slows down.

Lastly, The Afghans can be quite cruel.  I don't want to put people in a box...OK sometimes I do, I'm human.  This story goes... one night I hiccuped and went to dinner at rush hour.  There was not a table to be had.  Normally, I would just go back to the office, but it was Prime Rib day and they even had horseradish for it, so I really wanted to enjoy this mouth watering treat "HOT" for a change.  I spotted one table with one guy at it, (let's call him Habib for fun), so I went for it.  As I got closer, I knew Habib to be someone very nice that I always waved to.  I sat and we had pretty good conversation and he started teaching me the Afghan language- Dari... but you could've heard a pin drop.  I looked around and the fellow diners were sneaking looks at me.  Later, my leader, (really given an official title so he can look down on others), had to talk to me about sitting with shunned people and Afghans to boot.  Apparently, if you have any kind of birth defects or deformities, you are shunned from your people.  His idea was that we should respect their custom and act likewise.  Besides, we're not suppose to mix with "those people" (Afghans).  Can anyone say "Bull Shit" faster than me?  So, I continued to sit with him at every meal. Habib knows the rules well and to be polite he would stay and eat with me, but then quickly move.  In which, I would move and join him and his friends.  Just 2 meals of this and a very high up Afghan asked to speak with me...very mannerly!  He asked if I would be interested in joining them, with the Army, for ANA medical training. This is a very huge honor.  But the leader guy had me work and attempted to take my place - it didn't work they didn't want him... but that's another story, another day.... 

We are having a sandstorm which is another picture opportunity for me!  Till next time...

                

ROCKS IN MY HEAD

Afghanistan.  If someone had told me that I would be living here and lovin' it, I would have said that they have rocks in their head.  I'm now at a quaint little base located near a freeway and with towns surrounding us.  A little history... it is the birthplace of Al Qaida.  Wonderful!  Who thinks that I don't get around???  Did you know that they hate us...I mean really, really hate us!  And, why would they like us?  We killed their leader, the 2nd in command and his family, and his brother's wife and her cat and cousins, uncles, nephews, all in the name of freedom and peace for all.  And we spend millions chasing them around the world and in & out of caves that many times start as holes in the sides of mountains or in the ground that are impossible to see until you almost fall into one.  So I'm thinking...what do they do with that filling from the cave holes???  I have found the answer! They dump them in a gravel pit for us to break up and use as walkways with fist sized rocks that you must balance on, carefully walking slowly as to not dislocate your hip or fall onto your ass.  The contractor youngsters are cute as hell as they skip along with their shredded jeans caked with blood...not really.  I wink as they pass by, careful to use my walking stick and my holstered Ben Gay.  If it's the master plan to send us all home with joint injuries, well guess again...we're made of sturdier stock.  We can take their chronic dehydration and climate at the end of God's earth and the blinding sun and sand that coats your pores and fills your lungs each and every day and lets not forget the pot shots that we endure day in and day out. 

    I actually got a peek at "the Afghanistan".  We are not allowed to wander off base, so I took the opportunity to go look over the wall.  It was pretty neat, first, because I was not suppose to do that and then because it resembles the base in as there's lots of dirt and not much else.  I did see a herd of goats that I was told doubles for missile launchers or suicide bombers.  I'm puzzled?  Why would a goat want to commit suicide?  Ha!  I could give you hundred of reasons starting with the wife nags too much!  I also saw their freeway with a bus that I'm sure was stolen from the Partridge Family.  The sand/fields that surround us, I've heard that after the rainy season it will be a sight to behold.  Fields for miles around will be filled with beautiful red poppies who's fruit will be harvested for the drug trade.  Yippee!  And more money to finance the Taliban.  OK...off politics and my soap box...

    Speaking of rocks and dopes...I am now working on a base with people, (no names please), that don't work well with others, especially women.  Apparently he doesn't mind them to fo-de-do-do, but he has had a time putting me in my place.  I'm sure some of you can relate to his pain.  Last week, I was sick...in no mood to play games.  The games he wants to play: "My skills are better than your skills", or the " I can make you work as late as I want", or the all around good timer game, " Let's not tell anyone the rules."  It's all fun and games until someone gets caught without an escort (me), and someone gets his pee-pee smacked for knowing better (him). And, I feel a little sorry for him...he doesn't know what he is getting into with the TWINS...meowww!

    Back to the Taliban...I was stupid enough to leave the little base coffee shop after dark and without my flashlight - very stupid, especially with the big-ass rocks, when to my wonders I happened upon a group of ANA (Afghan National Army- these are rumored to be the Taliban lovers).  I almost lost my head or my long lost virginity or maybe even my Americanese.  Thankfully, a good ole American Soldier happened upon this happy scene and whisked me out of trouble...I'm very thankful!  Now I have to listen to everyone I meet about not going out after dark and having an escort.  It got around so fast!  I told no one about this little hiccup.  So once again I took matters into my own hands and bought a knife.  Please save your pennies boys and girls and bail me out of Afghan prison, because you know if it happens again...it will not be nice girl playing back!  Then again, I doubt I will go out alone again...sniff

                                               

A Day in the Life of a Remote Medic

Today we have a guest story from my partner in crime...oopps....clinic. He is going to tell you of a story that happened shortly before I came here. In fact, he's full of stories, so as long as he wants to tell them.....

                      

Ready for this one? Yesterday, around 1000, I get a radio call from the FOB Mayor, (Base leader), to report to the military clinic. I figured one of our convoys or patrols got zapped and they needed extra help. I get over there only to find out three of the locals were attacked and each had multiple stab wounds. That was all the info we had so we figured, of course, that the Taliban was responsible.

When they brought them in, we all went to work. The guy I was helping had multiple stab wounds, including one to the top of the head. His vitals weren't to great, his O2 sats were 88%, and his AVPU was to pain. The other guy also had multiple stab wounds but was conscious and alert, so he wasn't to bad. Neither of these guys were offering any answers as to what happened and who attacked them (obviously, the first guy wasn't talking at all).

The third guy, which I was shifted to after we got the major interventions done on the first guy, had defensive wounds to his hands and a stab wound to his (L) scapula. He was easily, hands down, the guaranteed winner of this years academy award for best actor. After we had the terp,(interpretor), tell him to knock it off and act like a man we finally started getting some answers.

OK. Ready for this? Turns out this guy was the nephew of the other two who were brothers. Seems they got into an argument about their wheat field and it escalated into a knife fight! Don't know just what the problem was but once the whole clinic heard what happened it sounded like the audience at a comedy show. I guess not only do you have to worry about being attacked by the Taliban, the ANA, or the ANCop's, but you need to worry about being attacked by your own family.

Believe it or not, this gets better.

We couldn't fly these guys to KAF so the military arranged for a taxi to take them to the closest civilian hospital about 45 min away.  The two brothers were the only ones bad enough to have to go. These two looked like partially wrapped mummys from some Bella Lugosi movie. They were taken to the gate where the cab was already waiting for them. As these guys did the shuffle drag towards the cab bloody and bandaged, the cab driver looked at them and took off! It was hilarious! After an extra 30 min wait the cabbie did come back and they were taken to the hospital.

Another exciting day at "As Howz-E-Madad Turns."

                         

Love and kindness

The fellowship of mankind in such tragedy and despair...

My buddy is a grade school teacher in the ghetto of Cincinnati. He just sent me such an uplifting story about a drug dealer who killed another right in front of the home of his prized pupils. You could say, poor kids for growing up under such hardship or you can rejoice that the children have parents who love and cares about them and walks them to school everyday and volunteers at the school to make sure their child grows up to be the best that they can be. Hurray! Plus in the bonus round....another dead drug dealer!

Here on the base... I was so fortunate to come across a welcomed kindness. The women here have gone out of their way to make me feel welcomed. I know them all. The last base, it was a race to be top mom. Here there's no such thing. We all have our own space, small as it might be and we watch out for one another. There are only a handful of us here, but it's a great feeling to know if you need to go to dinner, someone will always go with you- even if they already ate. And the guys make sure you never have to walk alone through the dark streets where evil lurks, (ANA= Afghan National Army who kidnap and sell you for fresh underwear...well, they should, who needs sex with women when there's a nice willing FN nearby). The base is fairly safe, but I like to think of it as living in Palmer Park. You can't go near the perimeter or outside the gate and careful of the strays that sneak through...but other than that, you're OK. But the bottom line is when things are as bad as you can't imagine, a ray of light shines through and I've met some of the best, caring people in the world!

Point in fact, my friend who went to another base was under attack. Her partner left her! Not very EMS like...repeat after me: NEVER LEAVE YOUR PARTNER BEHIND!!!  And when she was shitting her pants an amazing thing happened... a man unknown to her at the time, appeared and promised not to leave her. He explained about being in the war in Bosnia and he stayed by her side throughout the mortars. He even took her to a safer spot...as the bunker blew up behind them. I like to think that Angels walk among us and he most definitely was one of them. Hope they hook up...she needs a good guy!

I am almost always upbeat, but I think my dad dropped me on my head when I was a baby...that's the story my family tells me right after they pass me the shrimp, (I'm allergic to seafood, but they always forget....so we have it every Christmas- LOL!!!! ). It really amazes me how loving and kind people can be in the middle of a war. You rarely see selfish, centered, out for themselves kind of people. It makes me feel warm and just like being at home with my own family. I'm done with the jokes for now....

Love you Fam!!