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...