We're going to get you my pretty!

Oh-oh....My time is up here, time to go. My buddy's at the last base told the powers that be that they wanted me to stay there. I knew it! They would immediately re-assign me and they did. I was out the next morning!
I was with a patient and heard someone looking for me. I am truly blessed that I went and asked about it, (after I had finished with the patient- damn why didn't I play ignorance?). No one said a word. I asked a some guy that was just passing thru for the day...".Was someone looking for me?" He looked back with a blank stare and then the flashbulb popped over his head. Yes! There was someone- (Let's name her), Tinker Bell ,(originally named Pinocchio girl but, I got my trunk that she sent right away), was looking for me! So off I went in a search and find mission...and she said that I will be leaving in one hour! WTH? I rush to pack...forget finishing my patient paperwork.  And I did not have time to say a proper good- bye to the greatest team in history... and for what? To go to sit at the military airport for 4 hrs waiting for a flight. Thank God for Larry who I met right away and we whittled the time away talking and watching CNN and occasionally reading.
 So off we went to the plane...and we rode and we drove...We pull up to meet the plane to find out that it too will be late. The soldiers then take us to lunch- nice guys!
The plane finally comes and I'm looking at all of the stuff that will be transported: our stuff, tires, whole blood on ice that has melted- I hope that was not meant for our guys. The transport was very comfy and I slept. I felt the plane move and it glided. I recall thinking as I fell asleep that it was the smoothest plane ride that I ever had. As I was gently snoring away, (honest!), the plane took an upward climb- rudely awakening me, I slid to the next seat- belted and all. The Army guys were having a good laugh and me being a good sport..I smiled back.
As were landing at who knows where... that had no protective wall... I thought, this is interesting. The soldiers fixed their weapons, staring out the windows as we landed. I asked Larry over the tremendous plane noise, "should I be afraid". He said, "I don't know. I've never seen this happen before". The soldiers hesitantly got off the plane all crouched down-like , ready to shoot and they told us not to move until the cargo was moved. Well, half way thru that, it was- "hurry up, get off the plane". We got off looking around...where to go? No transportation in site and this Sergeant person yells at me, " Load your gear princess, there's no bellhops here to do it for you." Do I have the "pick on me" sticker on my forehead? So we all furiously dump our stuff into a golf cart for one. And the sarg guy starts screaming," move it! Move your ass! And he yells, I wouldn't be running around without your helmets and your Kevlar, (bullet proof vest), if I was you." So we stop long enough to throw it over our heads, (forget strapping anything down). Then off we go again running for our lives. Now I'm looking to see where on earth I am. What I see is locals sitting down the hill with soldiers pointing their rifles at them.
I'm in the middle of nowhere. I was dropped off at a special forces base outside of the wire. I had to climb to a very high flat bed truck to go to safety with my vest and helmet on and armed soldiers pointing at the Taliban-ish people. An army sergeant yelled at me to," get my ass up there", he said, "you are in the middle of a war zone- didn't you know that princess?" I said," yeah I knew" and  "I've been threatened by the ANA without a weapon and if I get killed, I don't get one of those shiny medals that you get and besides I'm old enough to be your mother" and "I am here of my own freewill, How old are you anyway sweetheart?" He shut his mouth after that!  So I climb up to the very high flatbed truck with rotted vegetation that I get to sit on. WTH! I really expected this treatment the first week, not 2 1/2 months into my contract. Off we go to another small base with the flatbed swaying to and fro threatening to throw us off and us hanging onto dear life. It was the end of a very long day...O- O-HO, Not yet!

Once at the tiny base, "mouth-o" gets going again. He immediately assigns the 2 guys to a tent and off they go. And he assigns the other girl to the only female room left- and off she goes...and I say,"where do I go?" Sarge says, "How the hell do I know? What are you anyway?" I said, "I'm a medic". He tells me to go to see the camp medic and maybe they can put you up. I go to reach for my bags, and off he goes again..."Leave your bags....Go, Go, Go" Jeez, some people are just wrapped way too tight. At this point we are alone so, I thank my lucky stars that he didn't thrash me or whatever it is the military does to back talkers.

 At the tiny base, which is wonderful by the way...I know the medic here. I met him one week ago and he takes control and care of me and everything. What a sweetheart! God provides, thank you very much! Everyone is so nice! They hook me up with a private room and a bathroom and shower, (with hot running water in the same building)- oh my! Chow hall is a short jaunt away with great food and happy servers. Everyone comes up and introduces themselves and are so pleasant...I love it! I think I may have stumbled in with the "Stepford Wives". I never want to leave here. I'm so happy to walk thru hell to get to heaven!

Can I stay here? Oh No...not if you like it you don't! Off I go to my original point of destination. They show me to the shit hole that I will be sleeping in for the rest of my contract and to the bathroom, (neither are heated and it's 30 degrees here), a mile away and all I can think of is... fodder for my next blog! TA, TA!

                                               

LABELS

I went shopping on the Boardwalk today and was all set to tell of my experience, went I heard a label that was placed on a medic here. I'm so pissed off that I can't think straight! That is one thing I hate- LABELS!
Stop and think... What exactly does a label do? It's never said around the person being spoken of. In fact, it is always said behind their back in whispers like the mealy mouth coward that these people are. Is it meant to be funny? Are people expected to laugh at their wit? No! It makes them look mean and asinine. Maybe they should eat the shit they spew. What if the Poo Pond is here for all the little labelers here. Yes! That's a great idea, then I wouldn't have to hear it or smell it! Does labeling make you above it all? Their superiority has shrunk to below zero in the listeners eyes. In fact, it has an opposite effect in making them look juvenile, jealous, hurtful and below human. What do you think would happen if the person- who's usually very nice- would feel if they happened upon the said name calling? The medic here was called Man-gela, who's gone now. Being muscular added to the mystique and was...enough to kick the nasty guy's ass that called her that. Unfortunately he heard it from a nasty girl here who thinks she's above labels, but unfortunately she is not. She has been called many things and maybe deserves her labels, but who's gets to be the judge?  And his friend, who happens to be my southern belle buddy, was also called a Man-gela. I immediately put a stop to that in such a nice way that I never heard it repeated again. Today I'm tired and have no patience for any assholes. I told him that it wasn't very nice. He replied...that's what everyone was calling her. Everyone who? I did not say any such thing. Am I no one? What box am I in? So it goes in "The World According to KAF." There are little people and there are the big people. I can not be one of those that stands idly by...never could. So where is my box? What is my label? Oh yeah..I'm the Twins and I wear that label proudly on my chest. Or that's my story and I'm sticking to it!

Don't work your Life

Everyone should be evaluated for their job type. I think that would make a career so much more satisfying. There is a theory that says there's people that "like stuff" and then there's people that "like people." Most of us fall in between these groups.
              STUFF__________________________/______________________________ PEOPLE

 The people that "like stuff" totally end up as accountant's, mechanics, and such. Total "people persons" end up as

doctor's and medics, etc. Everyone else falls between this. If you dislike your job or make others unhappy at your job, maybe you picked the wrong side. This is the mini lecture that we got today. I like people and I like to tinker. Those are that talents I claim. I like to macrame', crochet, I like to take things apart and put them back together. I like crafts and cooking. I like to read and hang out with my buddy's. And I found that I like to write.
Today, I watched the talents of others here. We just got an ex-marine corpsman/medic that weaves anything. He's making me a bracelet. Weaving sounds so much manlier than macrame'. That's what it looks like to me. But, I'm not going to say a word.

I want my marine woven bracelet.
Then there's a women who picks up stones from the ground here. There's no shortage of those. She actually has a tumbler to clean them. This takes weeks to perfect. She then takes them home when she goes on vacation, and her husband drills holes with his tiny drill bit so that she can use them as you would beads in macrame' or knitting. I have promised to teach her to crochet- far easier than knitting! Her crafts and stones are amazing!
I believe that it's the secret to keeping yourself together here. You must take "ME" time.The people that have outside interest just seem like they are doing a job and go home. They are happier, friendlier and have fun. They are fun to be with and calm. Their life does not revolve around 12 hour work days or missile attacks or dirty everything. Everything just rolls off of them. The ones that work, eat and go to bed are lacking. It gets monotonous and it shows. The complain, whine. Everything at home is a tragedy.
 Today we were in the bunkers and I took a good look around..instead of taking cover... oh well...it didn't hit anywhere close to me- and a couple of guys were talking about their hobbies. One rebuilds cars. No cars here, I thought. He makes his plans here based on the cars he bought when home. So, when he goes home for a couple of weeks, he knows the plan and gets them together quickly. He does his Internet searches, buys parts, draws it out...it was fascinating listening to him.

Another is clearing land and building a house. I've seen him at work pouring over his plans and lots of drawings.
 An adorable young man that is so adventurous goes kayak fishing in the Gulf of Mexico and scuba on the reefs of Hawaii and he longs for more adventure here. Being in Afghanistan is not adventurous enough? He bought a bike and tools around all over the city and shares the sites of the day. He plans his adventures well in advance and researches the area just like he's going tomorrow. He's fabulous!
 I hear from everyone," when I get home." Some people really have a goal and a life. Some do not. We have a new girl that mopes and whines about everything. I feel sorrow for her. They are pushing her to new heights and she thinks she's the only one that has ever suffered. She really believes everyone has gone down easy street here. I know that she will not last however hard we try to make her life easier and it almost seems like a waste of time. I can not believe that some think everything should be just like it is at home. We are in the middle of a war zone.
Another man just left, he couldn't cut it. He hated the missile attacks. He couldn't understand the computer programs that they use. He didn't understand the patient care that we do. He started out as fun and quickly circled the drain. You just never know. I don't know how I make it seem like Funsville, but you have to believe in God and tomorrow...or I do or I would scream! How is it again that people survive without faith?
The statistics is 1 out of 10 stay in country. There is isolation, being away from your family and friends, Missile attacks and it's not much fun being on some of the bases when the Taliban actually gets on base and they have ground attacks. Also, Afghanistan has the distinction of having the #1 most rabies in the world, so forget about pets. YIKES! It is a slightly different way of life...you work 12 hours and go to bed, to awake and do it again, 7 days a week. It is truly a Ground Hog's Day! But, life is what you make of it. I want my life to count for something. I enjoy living. I really enjoy this job and supporting our troops.

Give me my Internet!!! 12/4/11

Once again no Internet. In a war zone... why should we think we're entitled? We are dependant on it for communication to our loved ones and oh yeah, for work. Today we are at a stand still- and I get to blog the old fashion way with pen and paper baby yeah! Because we have no connection to the outside world. Everyone is cleaning their work areas, reading, dancing to the oldies...fun times!
Now it could be the Taliban that blocked our signal. We blame the little shit that happens on them. Sort of like gremlins with poorly assembled missiles. Those silly towel heads were at it again last night causing a ruckus...so I hear. Lots of gunfire, missiles, some mortar, but who can tell who's who and doing what. Yesterday, there were many walking around with Santa suits and guns for the annual Christmas fun run. The big thing for the bonus round was that we did not have to get out of bed! No air raid, no bunkers thank God, because once again I slept through it. I tell my scaredy cat buddy, the good Lord did not put me here to blow me up. But now I have a second line that goes, he doesn't like it when people act stupid. So if I hear the ruckus going on I solemnly promise to shake my tail straight away to the bunkers.
Speaking of sleeping, I've been trying to stay at high alert. I sleep with my cell phone that doesn't work here for calls, but "Break on through"... (The Doors) will wake me up if it's right beside me. So, the other night I was sleeping like a baby when all of a sudden I felt a tiny movement in my bed. Knowing all about the famous Afghan kangaroo rats that are suppose to be very cute with their big button eyes and sit on their rear haunches like a kangaroo, I did what every other American girl would do...I jumped out of bed screaming! I tore my bed apart to find that my phone had gone to vibrate- WTH! Now I really want to find one of those jumping bastards- it's the principal, right?
My buddy Colt stayed up all night on Skype last night, after a 3 hour session with Okinawa. So, understandably he was very tired when he hit the sack. He sleeps in a room (like me) with people that come through for a day or two. We call it the transient room, you never know what you'll wake to- or I don't 'cause we all know that I sleep through anything. So he gets to his room and off goes his clothes to land on the top bunk- "pooped as all get out", (a Colt-ism). Then he remembers he left the "Bat phone" (emergency on call line that he is the keeper of- let's all shout AMEN to that...I would never wake up!). So he feels around the top bunk for his pants/ pocket looking for the "Bat" phone on that lumpy bed- which he finds right away to once again lay down on his own sack. Suddenly, the top bunk moves! The guy that was sleeping there had not said a word. It's a good thing that Colt didn't find his "Bat" Phone or this story would have turned out far differently.
Speaking of stupid people tricks, last week I happened to get a ride to go to the showers a mile away. Now I'd walk a mile for a shower. At this place- Yes I would! But you also have to walk back through the muckity muck and talcum sand, in the pitch darkness. I say, what's the point? I usually drag a buddy (never go alone anywhere here), to the abandoned Canadian women's shower. Why would I go to a place abandoned, but a short distance away, you might ask...because we are not suppose to- duh! The showers are a dump and pretty grimy and they left their garbage from their last month here (August), but I wear shower shoes and it is clean water with tons of chlorine to frizz my hair like all of the other showers, and it's got real shower heads- not those stupid wands that you have to negotiate with. So back to my ride to 1 mile shower...I took a nice leisurely 10 minute shower (we're only allowed 3 minutes being in the desert... water shortage you know), and I was feeling squeaky clean. Me and the buds were feeling refreshed and very mellow and PLOP! I fell face first into one of those damn dirt holes that were left over from the flood. I was covered in talcum sand from head to toe. I believe I may have ate some, (remember it contains 17% fecal matter- YUK!) I laid there for a minute or 3 angry and sore because there were rocks in the pit too. There were also many people milling about and truthfully I felt like the biggest pee brain in the world (not to over exaggerate the point). Beefy military guys walked by me saying," watch where you're going." Wise guy like, I said- "Yes sir!  Don't help me up or anything- I can do it." They said, OK and walked on by. They must have been from Romania.
Speaking of, I'm standing in line for chow. The lines are ridiculous and I'm almost to the front and these Romanian soldiers cut in line right in front of me. I was speechless! They immediately got served and walked away. You'd think that this would be no big deal, but it also happened to my buddy- same day, same time at the dessert line. This is war! No more nice girl to the Romanians. They're probably the ones who cut into the Internet!


 

                                               

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!