Funny what becomes important when you don't have it. Tonight the power went out while I was sitting here in MWR keeping a watch on the computers. (Tara, that's why we were cut off mid-call.) It's really weird to have power from generators only and be really conscious that when you leave the light on or the AC on in your room by accident you are burning up more diesel than you should. I think I'm gonna come back from this deployment really conscious of my environmental footprint. I mean, I did my part with some recycling and stuff, but never paid much attention to it before. I'm turning into a green person here. Now if only they would recycle our water bottles here...
Funny story: A few months ago some of SECFOR (security force) guys were talking to some soldiers from Slovenia. Now keep in mind that all the coalition forces have their country names or flags on their uniforms. One SECFOR soldier asked the Slovenian where he was from. The guy covered up the "s" and the "nian" on his name tape on his pocket, and answered, "The country of love." We busted up laughing, not just because this was a classic moment, but also because our SECFOR guys just didn't know what to do with this and was really uncomfortable. Brilliant!
Another funny story: I was reading out loud in Harry Potter (in Italian) with one of my Italian friends trying to get the Italian pronunciation right. We stopped to discuss a word for a moment and when I understood the point he was making and we were ready to continue he said to me, "Go hide." I looked at him really confused and replied, "No, I don't want to." "Go hide," he said again looking at me, and again I replied to the contrary. I couldn't for the life of me figure out why he was telling me to go hide. The third time he said it, he gestured to the book and all of a sudden it dawned on me that he was saying, "Go ahead." We laughed and laughed at that one. Language and accents are a wonderful thing.
Sorry this is short, but it's like 0130 in the morning and I'm really tired. I can't think of anything else to write really, but mainly just wanted to post something new to show I was alive and kicking. Plus, my MWR watch is over in about 5 minutes.
I love hearing from everyone via email. Keep them coming. I actually have space in my head now to think of things other than here.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Outside the wire
So, last Sunday I went outside the wire on my first mission. I didn't tell anyone at home what I was doing, but later that day called my parents and let them know. As you can imagine, I can't really call home and let people know I'm going outside the wire tomorrow, so I'll always call afterwards and let someone know I went out and that I'm okay.
I didn't sleep much the night before, cause my head was spinning as I was thinking about all the stuff I needed to remember and concentrate on. I really had no idea what to expect, but I went through all the convoy and IED defeat training they gave me at Ft Bragg. A word of advice, when you want to sleep well, don't review the IED defeat training in your head. Take my word for it and think of something else.
I wish that I could have taken photos of Farah city, so you could see them, but when you're out and about here you can't be a tourist. As we drove into the city, I really had no idea what to expect. The only place I've ever been that was even close to a third world country was Chile and even the worst places I saw there were nothing compared to what I saw. It's amazing how poor people are here.
The bazaar area covers a couple of small blocks, and everything was pretty grimy with splashes of bright colors from some of the fabrics catching my eye as I went through. It was hard to concentrate on what the town looks like, because I had to focus on where people were outside my window and what directions cars were moving. Here's an idea of what was going on in my head: Do any cars have tinted windows? Are they moving out of our way? Is the weight evenly distributed or is that car really leaning more towards one side than the other? What's that guy over there holding in his hand? Okay, it's a shovel of some sort. Now, there's a kid running up on the left side of the humvee waving like mad at us to get some attention and hoping for a handout. Okay, what's that piece of blue on the side of the road? Plastic or something, maybe nothing to worry about... Where's that kid headed? Why's he running straight toward us? Why isn't that woman in a burqa moving out of the way? Is that really a woman in a burqa? Okay, there she goes back on the sidewalk.
It's a little overwhelming to try to take everything in, and I was so worried that I might miss that one thing that would make all the difference. I was praying so hard that if there was anything I needed to see that I would be able to see it clearly and know it was a threat. Thankfully it was a quiet trip both ways.
Our first stop that morning, was to the Center for Excellence. That morning they were holding a graduation ceremony for about 20 women who had successfully completed a business course. The women had learned how to make jams and jellies and then sell them in the local bazaar. They were taught simple business procedures for tracking their expenses and profits. A young woman, about age 15, was the master of ceremonies. A young boy about age 9 or 10, started off the graduation by reciting/singing a passage from the Koran. Then two more young women gave brief speeches and an older woman also talked.
LT P and I were the reps from the counsel for Women's Affairs at the PRT. She and I talked briefly about the importance of education for women and how courageous it is to seek out opportunities for education. Then we handed out some certificates, got some refreshments, shook hands with all the women, took photos, put our body armour and helmets back on and headed out the door to the next meeting.
Our next meeting was at the Department of Education with the Director. Because I don't get out much here, Capt B let me accompany them inside for the meeting. It was interesting. I was the only female in a room full of village elders, PRT leadership and the director and his staff. The meeting was about the security issues with a potential school site. The contract had been signed to build the school, but due to security the contractor wasn't able to start construction. The villages were not owning up to the responsiblity of providing security, because the contractor was an outsider not from the village. We spent two and a half hours there debating this problem, with no resolution.
The room was a pretty big room and it was even air conditioned. The director's desk was in the corner and big, green sofas lined the walls, with coffee tables and end tables positioned in front of each one. All the important people sat near the front of the room by the Director. Me, I was so important in this setting that I set near the back by the door keeping an eye on who was coming and going from the outer room. We also had a soldier out in the hallway keeping an eye things as well.
The director's 15 year old son was there as well. He sat next to me and explained the purpose of the meeting to me. He speaks really great English and wants to be an economist when he grows up. He is majoring in economy in high school. He was a really funny kid and very proud of his dad. He was proud to act as my host for the meeting and also curious to ask me many questions.
The first question he asked me after learning my name was every single girls' favorite question: Are you married? When I said no, he asked if I wanted to be married. He seemed relieved to hear that I did indeed wish to be married. He wondered why I wasn't married and I explained that the right opportunity hadn't come along for me. He nodded very seriously and then proceeded to explain that it was good to be married and that one must be careful when making this decision because it was a lifelong decision. Fabulous, I thought, I'm receiving marriage advice from a teenage Afghan boy. Ah, the ironies of life.
This teenage boy had lots of questions about TV shows, schooling, where I was from and where I lived. He was very impressed that I live in Washington, DC. It's a very important and famous place in Afghanistan, because decisions made there affect us here in Farah. He even knew where Utah was and was able to tell me about the Great Salt Lake. He asked me about my purple CTR ring, and so I got to have a small missionary moment with him by explaining that CTR has many meanings. The most common meaning is Choose The Right, but my favorite is Christ The Redeemer. He thought it was pretty cool that I wore a ring that reminded me of these two things.
About halfway through the meeting refreshments arrived in the form of bottled water for the 3 Americans in the room and plates of cucumbers and small saucers of salt. The cucumbers were piled high on the plates with knives in order to peel them. Interesting choice of refreshement, I thought. It was explained to me that these were the famous Farah cucumbers, which are exported to many other places in Afghanistan and Iran. He proceeded to peel a cucumber and split it with me. It was good, probably one of the better tasting cucumbers I've had.
The meeting ended and like I said earlier the elders weren't able to resolve anything about the security issues. If the contractor had been from one of the villages by where the school was to be built maybe we could have gotten an agreement. But as it stands, if the school were to be built there, they would probably burn it to the ground because no one stands to gain anything from it financially. So dumb!
We headed out to our trucks where the rest of the team had sat for two hours baking and sweating in the 100+ degree Farenheit heat. I climbed back in the truck and belted myself in and off we went for the 10 minute drive back to the base. Again, I had to keep myself in the game with my mental dialogue about what I was seeing.
We got back to the FOB, cleared our weapons, had our mission debrief and went to lunch. Not bad for a morning's worth of work in Farah. I don't have photos yet of me in action, but I'll get them soon and post them for you to see. I hope to get more opportunities to go outside the wire. It's exhausting but fulfilling.
I love hearing from you all. The mail is pretty slow right now, but please write and I'll write back. My love to you all from AFG.
I didn't sleep much the night before, cause my head was spinning as I was thinking about all the stuff I needed to remember and concentrate on. I really had no idea what to expect, but I went through all the convoy and IED defeat training they gave me at Ft Bragg. A word of advice, when you want to sleep well, don't review the IED defeat training in your head. Take my word for it and think of something else.
I wish that I could have taken photos of Farah city, so you could see them, but when you're out and about here you can't be a tourist. As we drove into the city, I really had no idea what to expect. The only place I've ever been that was even close to a third world country was Chile and even the worst places I saw there were nothing compared to what I saw. It's amazing how poor people are here.
The bazaar area covers a couple of small blocks, and everything was pretty grimy with splashes of bright colors from some of the fabrics catching my eye as I went through. It was hard to concentrate on what the town looks like, because I had to focus on where people were outside my window and what directions cars were moving. Here's an idea of what was going on in my head: Do any cars have tinted windows? Are they moving out of our way? Is the weight evenly distributed or is that car really leaning more towards one side than the other? What's that guy over there holding in his hand? Okay, it's a shovel of some sort. Now, there's a kid running up on the left side of the humvee waving like mad at us to get some attention and hoping for a handout. Okay, what's that piece of blue on the side of the road? Plastic or something, maybe nothing to worry about... Where's that kid headed? Why's he running straight toward us? Why isn't that woman in a burqa moving out of the way? Is that really a woman in a burqa? Okay, there she goes back on the sidewalk.
It's a little overwhelming to try to take everything in, and I was so worried that I might miss that one thing that would make all the difference. I was praying so hard that if there was anything I needed to see that I would be able to see it clearly and know it was a threat. Thankfully it was a quiet trip both ways.
Our first stop that morning, was to the Center for Excellence. That morning they were holding a graduation ceremony for about 20 women who had successfully completed a business course. The women had learned how to make jams and jellies and then sell them in the local bazaar. They were taught simple business procedures for tracking their expenses and profits. A young woman, about age 15, was the master of ceremonies. A young boy about age 9 or 10, started off the graduation by reciting/singing a passage from the Koran. Then two more young women gave brief speeches and an older woman also talked.
LT P and I were the reps from the counsel for Women's Affairs at the PRT. She and I talked briefly about the importance of education for women and how courageous it is to seek out opportunities for education. Then we handed out some certificates, got some refreshments, shook hands with all the women, took photos, put our body armour and helmets back on and headed out the door to the next meeting.
Our next meeting was at the Department of Education with the Director. Because I don't get out much here, Capt B let me accompany them inside for the meeting. It was interesting. I was the only female in a room full of village elders, PRT leadership and the director and his staff. The meeting was about the security issues with a potential school site. The contract had been signed to build the school, but due to security the contractor wasn't able to start construction. The villages were not owning up to the responsiblity of providing security, because the contractor was an outsider not from the village. We spent two and a half hours there debating this problem, with no resolution.
The room was a pretty big room and it was even air conditioned. The director's desk was in the corner and big, green sofas lined the walls, with coffee tables and end tables positioned in front of each one. All the important people sat near the front of the room by the Director. Me, I was so important in this setting that I set near the back by the door keeping an eye on who was coming and going from the outer room. We also had a soldier out in the hallway keeping an eye things as well.
The director's 15 year old son was there as well. He sat next to me and explained the purpose of the meeting to me. He speaks really great English and wants to be an economist when he grows up. He is majoring in economy in high school. He was a really funny kid and very proud of his dad. He was proud to act as my host for the meeting and also curious to ask me many questions.
The first question he asked me after learning my name was every single girls' favorite question: Are you married? When I said no, he asked if I wanted to be married. He seemed relieved to hear that I did indeed wish to be married. He wondered why I wasn't married and I explained that the right opportunity hadn't come along for me. He nodded very seriously and then proceeded to explain that it was good to be married and that one must be careful when making this decision because it was a lifelong decision. Fabulous, I thought, I'm receiving marriage advice from a teenage Afghan boy. Ah, the ironies of life.
This teenage boy had lots of questions about TV shows, schooling, where I was from and where I lived. He was very impressed that I live in Washington, DC. It's a very important and famous place in Afghanistan, because decisions made there affect us here in Farah. He even knew where Utah was and was able to tell me about the Great Salt Lake. He asked me about my purple CTR ring, and so I got to have a small missionary moment with him by explaining that CTR has many meanings. The most common meaning is Choose The Right, but my favorite is Christ The Redeemer. He thought it was pretty cool that I wore a ring that reminded me of these two things.
About halfway through the meeting refreshments arrived in the form of bottled water for the 3 Americans in the room and plates of cucumbers and small saucers of salt. The cucumbers were piled high on the plates with knives in order to peel them. Interesting choice of refreshement, I thought. It was explained to me that these were the famous Farah cucumbers, which are exported to many other places in Afghanistan and Iran. He proceeded to peel a cucumber and split it with me. It was good, probably one of the better tasting cucumbers I've had.
The meeting ended and like I said earlier the elders weren't able to resolve anything about the security issues. If the contractor had been from one of the villages by where the school was to be built maybe we could have gotten an agreement. But as it stands, if the school were to be built there, they would probably burn it to the ground because no one stands to gain anything from it financially. So dumb!
We headed out to our trucks where the rest of the team had sat for two hours baking and sweating in the 100+ degree Farenheit heat. I climbed back in the truck and belted myself in and off we went for the 10 minute drive back to the base. Again, I had to keep myself in the game with my mental dialogue about what I was seeing.
We got back to the FOB, cleared our weapons, had our mission debrief and went to lunch. Not bad for a morning's worth of work in Farah. I don't have photos yet of me in action, but I'll get them soon and post them for you to see. I hope to get more opportunities to go outside the wire. It's exhausting but fulfilling.
I love hearing from you all. The mail is pretty slow right now, but please write and I'll write back. My love to you all from AFG.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Wishes and Goodbyes
For a while now I’ve had this wish to go for a helicopter ride. My little brother Chris had plans to serve a mission for our church and then join the Army to be a helo pilot. Ever since he told me this and especially since he passed away, I’ve wished for a helo ride. Finally, last Sunday my wish was granted.
As many of you know from reading my blog, we Americans are not alone here at FOB Farah. We share our little home with Italians who are part of NATO International Security Assistance Forces (ISAF). They do some PRT missions, however they are primarily security forces. We have several groups that come and go on a regular basis supporting different operations and this includes helo pilots.
I became friendly with the commander of one of the helo squadrons that was here for a few weeks. We would talk about different things where we were from, books that we had read and about how we both feel helpless when we see the poverty around us. We also talked about the gospel and how Christ is the ultimate example for helping others. On their last morning in Farah, I woke up early to inspect their tent before they left and saw my friend one last time. He asked me how long it would take for me to get ready for a helo ride. I told him five minutes and took off running for my office.
I had to tell our Ops officer where I was going and grab my kit. My kit is my body armour with all the attachments for magazines and tools, my weapons and helmet. I also had to grab my camera. I raced back to the helo and the crew was waiting for me. I climbed in and found my seat up by the front gunner (you’ll see the gun in some of the photos). I had no idea what to expect, but was so excited I didn’t even think about being scared. This was my first trip “outside the wire”. We say outside the wire, because when we leave the FOB we are outside the razor or concertina wire. I’m no longer a FOB-bit, meaning I’ve now left the FOB.
When they start the helo, the engines go first. Once the engines are at the levels they need to be, then they start the propellers. It’s kind of weird when the propellers first start because the centrifugal force isn’t smooth as they pick up speed. I got thrown back and forth a bit until the propellers had reached the proper speed, then it was pretty smooth. When helos take off they also take off backwards, or at least these ones did. That was a little disconcerting.
Once we finally got up in the air, the front gunner motioned for me to move up behind the pilots, so I could look out their front windows. That was pretty cool. They really do have a bird’s eye view of things from there.
From some of the photos I have posted, you can see that Farah really is a desert. However, once I was in the air and flying over the outskirts of the city, I was surprised at how much green there is. There is a small canal flowing through the country here and of course anyone who farms is an expert on irrigation. The compounds or homes have walls all around them and inside it’s green—amazingly green.
The ride itself was really cool. It’s like being in an airplane, except that when the helo banks for making turns you can really tell and your center of gravity totally shifts. That’s kind of fun, like a roller coaster ride.
We were up in the air for about 10 minutes and I got some amazing views of the mountains, the city and our FOB. Operational security prevents me from sharing the aerial photos of the FOB, but I’ll share everything else.
While this was the highlight of the past week or so, there was also a bit of sadness. The group of Italian men that were our Italian teachers left. They are redeploying back to Italy, and get to spend the next few months with their families and friends before coming back to Afghanistan again next year. We have all grown really close and developed a great friendship. These guys were like best friend brothers to us and watched out for us. They also cooked dinner for us on a couple of occasions and we would stay up late playing games and just talking. Somehow the language barriers didn’t seem to matter and we all improved our language skills.
The guys were very protective of us and when other Italians started making comments about us they would tell us it was time to leave. They would also warn us which ones were losers and which ones were nice. They claimed that the other Italian men only had one thing on their minds when it came to us girls. However, they were typical guys in that they had pictures of scantily clad women cut out of magazines and on their door, but they said that when they come back next year they aren’t going to bother putting photos of those women back up on their door. Instead they are going to put photos of us on their door, because we are their “real” girlfriends. I love it—American women in ACUs on their door.
I’m doing well and getting an awesome soldier’s tan from running. (Ha!) I go out and run on the flight line with a group from the PRT. Well, I was running. Somehow I either tore or stressed my left calf muscle and now I can’t run. So, I ask you all to pray that I heal quickly and can get back to running. As I told one guy, it’s either go running or hit someone, and the running seems like a better choice. Anyway, life here is still good and busy, but that makes time go by more quickly. Yay!
My pilot friend, if only more older men looked like this. (wink, wink)
The top of one of the smaller mountains. Amazing to be up that high and have no windows. The photos don't do this justic.
This gives a really good view of some of the homes or compounds as we call them. You can also the canal to the right of the two women who are walking there. Look at all the green!
More green. I love the contrast between the sand and the vegetation. There is also some new construction down in the bottom left corner.
I thought this was interesting, and it wasn't until after the ride when I downloaded the photos that I realized this is a cemetary.
That was my last view of the helos. They flew over the FOB as they headed off to Herat. The tents are for visitors and also some of our contractors.
This is my group of beautiful Italian men. From left to right: Me, Toni, "Cameron", Andrea, Cristian, Enrico, "Lucy", and Nazzareno. In front: Domenico and Samuel. This is team Jackal as we said goodbye to them.
Yes, Dad I know you want more photos, but this is all I had time to do. Internet here is really slow. Love you!
As many of you know from reading my blog, we Americans are not alone here at FOB Farah. We share our little home with Italians who are part of NATO International Security Assistance Forces (ISAF). They do some PRT missions, however they are primarily security forces. We have several groups that come and go on a regular basis supporting different operations and this includes helo pilots.
I became friendly with the commander of one of the helo squadrons that was here for a few weeks. We would talk about different things where we were from, books that we had read and about how we both feel helpless when we see the poverty around us. We also talked about the gospel and how Christ is the ultimate example for helping others. On their last morning in Farah, I woke up early to inspect their tent before they left and saw my friend one last time. He asked me how long it would take for me to get ready for a helo ride. I told him five minutes and took off running for my office.
I had to tell our Ops officer where I was going and grab my kit. My kit is my body armour with all the attachments for magazines and tools, my weapons and helmet. I also had to grab my camera. I raced back to the helo and the crew was waiting for me. I climbed in and found my seat up by the front gunner (you’ll see the gun in some of the photos). I had no idea what to expect, but was so excited I didn’t even think about being scared. This was my first trip “outside the wire”. We say outside the wire, because when we leave the FOB we are outside the razor or concertina wire. I’m no longer a FOB-bit, meaning I’ve now left the FOB.
When they start the helo, the engines go first. Once the engines are at the levels they need to be, then they start the propellers. It’s kind of weird when the propellers first start because the centrifugal force isn’t smooth as they pick up speed. I got thrown back and forth a bit until the propellers had reached the proper speed, then it was pretty smooth. When helos take off they also take off backwards, or at least these ones did. That was a little disconcerting.
Once we finally got up in the air, the front gunner motioned for me to move up behind the pilots, so I could look out their front windows. That was pretty cool. They really do have a bird’s eye view of things from there.
From some of the photos I have posted, you can see that Farah really is a desert. However, once I was in the air and flying over the outskirts of the city, I was surprised at how much green there is. There is a small canal flowing through the country here and of course anyone who farms is an expert on irrigation. The compounds or homes have walls all around them and inside it’s green—amazingly green.
The ride itself was really cool. It’s like being in an airplane, except that when the helo banks for making turns you can really tell and your center of gravity totally shifts. That’s kind of fun, like a roller coaster ride.
We were up in the air for about 10 minutes and I got some amazing views of the mountains, the city and our FOB. Operational security prevents me from sharing the aerial photos of the FOB, but I’ll share everything else.
While this was the highlight of the past week or so, there was also a bit of sadness. The group of Italian men that were our Italian teachers left. They are redeploying back to Italy, and get to spend the next few months with their families and friends before coming back to Afghanistan again next year. We have all grown really close and developed a great friendship. These guys were like best friend brothers to us and watched out for us. They also cooked dinner for us on a couple of occasions and we would stay up late playing games and just talking. Somehow the language barriers didn’t seem to matter and we all improved our language skills.
The guys were very protective of us and when other Italians started making comments about us they would tell us it was time to leave. They would also warn us which ones were losers and which ones were nice. They claimed that the other Italian men only had one thing on their minds when it came to us girls. However, they were typical guys in that they had pictures of scantily clad women cut out of magazines and on their door, but they said that when they come back next year they aren’t going to bother putting photos of those women back up on their door. Instead they are going to put photos of us on their door, because we are their “real” girlfriends. I love it—American women in ACUs on their door.
I’m doing well and getting an awesome soldier’s tan from running. (Ha!) I go out and run on the flight line with a group from the PRT. Well, I was running. Somehow I either tore or stressed my left calf muscle and now I can’t run. So, I ask you all to pray that I heal quickly and can get back to running. As I told one guy, it’s either go running or hit someone, and the running seems like a better choice. Anyway, life here is still good and busy, but that makes time go by more quickly. Yay!
My pilot friend, if only more older men looked like this. (wink, wink)
The top of one of the smaller mountains. Amazing to be up that high and have no windows. The photos don't do this justic.
This gives a really good view of some of the homes or compounds as we call them. You can also the canal to the right of the two women who are walking there. Look at all the green!
More green. I love the contrast between the sand and the vegetation. There is also some new construction down in the bottom left corner.
I thought this was interesting, and it wasn't until after the ride when I downloaded the photos that I realized this is a cemetary.
That was my last view of the helos. They flew over the FOB as they headed off to Herat. The tents are for visitors and also some of our contractors.
This is my group of beautiful Italian men. From left to right: Me, Toni, "Cameron", Andrea, Cristian, Enrico, "Lucy", and Nazzareno. In front: Domenico and Samuel. This is team Jackal as we said goodbye to them.
Yes, Dad I know you want more photos, but this is all I had time to do. Internet here is really slow. Love you!
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
What do you take for granted?
So, life here continues at a frantic pace. Many people say that life here is like Ground Hog Day, each day is the same. However, for me thankfully, that is not the case. I get to meet new people almost everyday and learn new things.
Last Tuesday, I spent the morning at the free clinic for the first time. It was so much fun and I enjoyed getting to interact with local people for the first time. It was also extremely humbling for me and made me very thankful for the comforts that I have here.
The morning went by extremely fast and just in our room, we saw over 40 patients, all women and children. One woman would come in and bring all her children with her. Our interpreters would start the interview off by asking why they had come. The women would start with their own ailments and once they were done, move onto everything that was wrong with her children. Of course as in all places, there were one or two women who came just because it’s the free clinic and they might get something free. However, most of those who came had real ailments.
One fifteen year old girl, who came in, had one leg shorter than the other. She had fallen or something when she was four years old and had dislocated her hip. It was never properly doctored and so her hip over the years had simply grown into the wrong place and the socket had filled with some sort of tissue which had her whole pelvis out of alignment. The only thing we were able to do for her was take her foot measurement and measure her legs, so that one of our doctors could make her an elevated shoe to even out her gait. He is ordering some shoes and taking them apart to make her an orthopedic shoe.
A woman who was six months pregnant came in for help. A year and a half ago, she was badly burned in a propane explosion. She’s lucky to be alive. Her torso from the breasts and then on down to her knees is one huge mass of scar tissue. Now imagine that scar tissue being slowly stretched over time due to her pregnancy. As you can imagine, she is in a lot of pain. Unfortunately, all we can do is give her lotion which we hope might soften her skin a little, and some Tylenol to take the edge of the pain. Seriously, the worst scarring I have ever seen, not that I’m a medical professional or anything.
One little boy had a huge ulcer on his foot, and of course he didn’t have any shoes. Apparently, he had stepped onto a red hot piece of metal and burned his little foot or should I say melted his little foot. My friend HM2 A. (Hospital Corpsmen Second Class) cleaned his foot and cut away some of the dead skin and then bandaged his foot up. It was clean for a few minutes before he jumped down and ran out the door barefoot with a stuffed animal in his hand for being a brave boy.
Sometimes the clinic hands out little toys, stuffed animals or school supplies to the kids when they come in. It just depends on what they have on hand. I got to hand out toys to some of the kids, and almost started a riot when I made the mistake of handing some out through a window. Okay lesson learned, only patients inside the clinic get stuffed animals.
So, what don’t I take for granted anymore? Clean medical facilities and the very latest in medical technology. Okay, a bottle of Tylenol is a luxury here. Clean water from a faucet, or maybe just clean water, or not having to walk to get water. Shoes of any kind—all of sudden my hot pink Crocs seem so frivolous. Grass. Paved roads. Clean smelling people. A vacuum that actually sucks. Driving, cooking my own food, seeing friends and family. Internet that downloads in seconds, not minutes (3 hours to download just one session of General Conference). Just lots of little things I didn’t think about or give much thought to at home.
These few weeks here have been eye opening as I reflect on what my life is like in the U.S. I have it good. We all have it good for that matter. Funny, how the littlest thing going wrong in our life can be so huge, and yet here the littlest things are missing from people’s lives. Just a pair of shoes makes a difference. We complain and complain, and forget to take notice of all that we have. Life is good! I hope I can remember the lessons I’m learning here.
Below are some photos from my morning at the clinic.
This is me, of course, and a little girl name Reza. I loved her outfit. It's made of the fuzzy, furry yarn that is fun to make scarves out of. She's beautiful. Her dad runs the pharmacy at the free clinic.
This little girl has such beautiful eyes. She was so eager to learn anything new and kept asking me questions. Unfortunately, I don't speak Dari.
A fun little family. They were very concerned about getting their stuffed animals and were very relieved to get them.
This woman was anxious that I take her family's photo. She is very proud of her children, two boys and a little girl. The babies are very tightly swaddled, even in the heat. Poor kids just need to air out a bit. One little one even had a fungus growing on the back his head because Mom kept him so tightly swaddled. Not this baby though, this one is pretty healthy.
My friend HM2 A at work tending to the little boy's burned foot. His sister held him to keep him still and comfort him for the pain. This family was great.
See what I mean about the babies being tightly swaddled? This little one had the best smile and mom is so pretty. Some women don't mind having their photos taken, especially with their babies.
Look at those eyes and those chubby cheeks! This is the epitome of a swaddled baby. Mom was very happy to let me take her little one's photo, but quickly slipped her burqa into place before allowing me to take the photo. Now women have a choice about wearing the burqa, not like during the Taleban occupation. There are still many women who wear burqas, but they seem to be in the majority.
Last Tuesday, I spent the morning at the free clinic for the first time. It was so much fun and I enjoyed getting to interact with local people for the first time. It was also extremely humbling for me and made me very thankful for the comforts that I have here.
The morning went by extremely fast and just in our room, we saw over 40 patients, all women and children. One woman would come in and bring all her children with her. Our interpreters would start the interview off by asking why they had come. The women would start with their own ailments and once they were done, move onto everything that was wrong with her children. Of course as in all places, there were one or two women who came just because it’s the free clinic and they might get something free. However, most of those who came had real ailments.
One fifteen year old girl, who came in, had one leg shorter than the other. She had fallen or something when she was four years old and had dislocated her hip. It was never properly doctored and so her hip over the years had simply grown into the wrong place and the socket had filled with some sort of tissue which had her whole pelvis out of alignment. The only thing we were able to do for her was take her foot measurement and measure her legs, so that one of our doctors could make her an elevated shoe to even out her gait. He is ordering some shoes and taking them apart to make her an orthopedic shoe.
A woman who was six months pregnant came in for help. A year and a half ago, she was badly burned in a propane explosion. She’s lucky to be alive. Her torso from the breasts and then on down to her knees is one huge mass of scar tissue. Now imagine that scar tissue being slowly stretched over time due to her pregnancy. As you can imagine, she is in a lot of pain. Unfortunately, all we can do is give her lotion which we hope might soften her skin a little, and some Tylenol to take the edge of the pain. Seriously, the worst scarring I have ever seen, not that I’m a medical professional or anything.
One little boy had a huge ulcer on his foot, and of course he didn’t have any shoes. Apparently, he had stepped onto a red hot piece of metal and burned his little foot or should I say melted his little foot. My friend HM2 A. (Hospital Corpsmen Second Class) cleaned his foot and cut away some of the dead skin and then bandaged his foot up. It was clean for a few minutes before he jumped down and ran out the door barefoot with a stuffed animal in his hand for being a brave boy.
Sometimes the clinic hands out little toys, stuffed animals or school supplies to the kids when they come in. It just depends on what they have on hand. I got to hand out toys to some of the kids, and almost started a riot when I made the mistake of handing some out through a window. Okay lesson learned, only patients inside the clinic get stuffed animals.
So, what don’t I take for granted anymore? Clean medical facilities and the very latest in medical technology. Okay, a bottle of Tylenol is a luxury here. Clean water from a faucet, or maybe just clean water, or not having to walk to get water. Shoes of any kind—all of sudden my hot pink Crocs seem so frivolous. Grass. Paved roads. Clean smelling people. A vacuum that actually sucks. Driving, cooking my own food, seeing friends and family. Internet that downloads in seconds, not minutes (3 hours to download just one session of General Conference). Just lots of little things I didn’t think about or give much thought to at home.
These few weeks here have been eye opening as I reflect on what my life is like in the U.S. I have it good. We all have it good for that matter. Funny, how the littlest thing going wrong in our life can be so huge, and yet here the littlest things are missing from people’s lives. Just a pair of shoes makes a difference. We complain and complain, and forget to take notice of all that we have. Life is good! I hope I can remember the lessons I’m learning here.
Below are some photos from my morning at the clinic.
This is me, of course, and a little girl name Reza. I loved her outfit. It's made of the fuzzy, furry yarn that is fun to make scarves out of. She's beautiful. Her dad runs the pharmacy at the free clinic.
This little girl has such beautiful eyes. She was so eager to learn anything new and kept asking me questions. Unfortunately, I don't speak Dari.
A fun little family. They were very concerned about getting their stuffed animals and were very relieved to get them.
This woman was anxious that I take her family's photo. She is very proud of her children, two boys and a little girl. The babies are very tightly swaddled, even in the heat. Poor kids just need to air out a bit. One little one even had a fungus growing on the back his head because Mom kept him so tightly swaddled. Not this baby though, this one is pretty healthy.
My friend HM2 A at work tending to the little boy's burned foot. His sister held him to keep him still and comfort him for the pain. This family was great.
See what I mean about the babies being tightly swaddled? This little one had the best smile and mom is so pretty. Some women don't mind having their photos taken, especially with their babies.
Look at those eyes and those chubby cheeks! This is the epitome of a swaddled baby. Mom was very happy to let me take her little one's photo, but quickly slipped her burqa into place before allowing me to take the photo. Now women have a choice about wearing the burqa, not like during the Taleban occupation. There are still many women who wear burqas, but they seem to be in the majority.Many of you have emailed me asking what do I need. Honestly, I have what I need here, however if you would like to help me out what I really need are school supplies--book bags (very popular), pencils, sharpeners, crayons, notebooks, paper, pens, non-Christian based easy to read children's books, and of course small stuffed animals for the clinic. This more than anything else would be the most help.
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
What do you do for fun in Farah?
Well, I thought I'd tell you all about what my days are like here.
As you know I'm the S-1, which means I the admin girl here for the whole base. Granted it's not a very big base and with all the people here it tends to be a little crowded. We have our PRT, the coalition forces Italians, lots and lots of civilian contractors who take care of us and help to maintain the base, all the intrepreters, plus other groups of military personnel on the base. Me, I have to keep track of all these people and report our numbers daily to our chain of command.
I also manage "Hotel Farah". We get lots and lots of visitors here, and I have to make certain they have a place to sleep. Lots of people get to sleep in the transient tents, which doesn't require much from me other than to make sure the AC is working and that they stay clean. However, when the big wigs come or females come it's a different story. Then I have to make beds and clean rooms and basically be a housekeeper. Well, sometimes I have my assistant do this.
All the correspondence for the command comes across my desk. I edit and format everything for the CO's signature. I keep track of personnel issues and assist with evaluations. I also track leave, awards, finance and... Yikes, I think I'm gonna pull my hair out.
In addition to my normal duties, I'm also on the Morale, Welfare and Recreation (MWR) board. Bet'cha can't guess what I do? I'm the secretary. We plan all the fun activities for everyone. For instance, last week we did 3-on-3 basketball, danced salsa one night and had a movie night. This weekend we are hosting a poker tournament, playing flag football and of course hosting movie nights.
I'm also active in my church group and when the chaplain comes down from Camp Stone I lead the music for her services. It's pretty fun and the guys do a pretty good job of singing. They say I sing like Sandy Patty.
I'm also learning Italian from some beautiful italian men... And they are beautiful. I've wanted to do this for a long time now, so I'm excited for this. Basically, we sit in the chow hall after dinner and talk about things that interest us. We take turns speaking in the language we are trying to learn and write down the new words and phrases we learn each night. I even bought the first Harry Potter book in italian and have plans to start reading it as soon as it arrives. I'm also still trying to learn a little Dari and Pashto and getting all confused between Spanish, Italian and well everything. I'll be starting guitar lessons this week as well.
I have an Italian roommate for the next few weeks. She speaks very little English, so this is really good practice for both of us. We've had fun trying to figure out what the other is saying, but we're getting there. I just ask my friends how to say different things and then she and I can talk a little.
Basically, while I'm here I don't want to just sit around. I want to be busy and learn as much as I can while I'm here. Next week I get to start volunteering at the free clinic so I'll be spending a couple of mornings a week helping with patients and playing with kids. Plus, I'm a member of the women's issues council and help to plan activities there.
La vita e bella. I'm really enjoying myself here and am so thankful I'm working with such great people. I'm also meeting some really great people and making really good friends. I hope we keep having a good time.
Here's some photos of the latest activities.
As you know I'm the S-1, which means I the admin girl here for the whole base. Granted it's not a very big base and with all the people here it tends to be a little crowded. We have our PRT, the coalition forces Italians, lots and lots of civilian contractors who take care of us and help to maintain the base, all the intrepreters, plus other groups of military personnel on the base. Me, I have to keep track of all these people and report our numbers daily to our chain of command.
I also manage "Hotel Farah". We get lots and lots of visitors here, and I have to make certain they have a place to sleep. Lots of people get to sleep in the transient tents, which doesn't require much from me other than to make sure the AC is working and that they stay clean. However, when the big wigs come or females come it's a different story. Then I have to make beds and clean rooms and basically be a housekeeper. Well, sometimes I have my assistant do this.
All the correspondence for the command comes across my desk. I edit and format everything for the CO's signature. I keep track of personnel issues and assist with evaluations. I also track leave, awards, finance and... Yikes, I think I'm gonna pull my hair out.
In addition to my normal duties, I'm also on the Morale, Welfare and Recreation (MWR) board. Bet'cha can't guess what I do? I'm the secretary. We plan all the fun activities for everyone. For instance, last week we did 3-on-3 basketball, danced salsa one night and had a movie night. This weekend we are hosting a poker tournament, playing flag football and of course hosting movie nights.
I'm also active in my church group and when the chaplain comes down from Camp Stone I lead the music for her services. It's pretty fun and the guys do a pretty good job of singing. They say I sing like Sandy Patty.
I'm also learning Italian from some beautiful italian men... And they are beautiful. I've wanted to do this for a long time now, so I'm excited for this. Basically, we sit in the chow hall after dinner and talk about things that interest us. We take turns speaking in the language we are trying to learn and write down the new words and phrases we learn each night. I even bought the first Harry Potter book in italian and have plans to start reading it as soon as it arrives. I'm also still trying to learn a little Dari and Pashto and getting all confused between Spanish, Italian and well everything. I'll be starting guitar lessons this week as well.
I have an Italian roommate for the next few weeks. She speaks very little English, so this is really good practice for both of us. We've had fun trying to figure out what the other is saying, but we're getting there. I just ask my friends how to say different things and then she and I can talk a little.
Basically, while I'm here I don't want to just sit around. I want to be busy and learn as much as I can while I'm here. Next week I get to start volunteering at the free clinic so I'll be spending a couple of mornings a week helping with patients and playing with kids. Plus, I'm a member of the women's issues council and help to plan activities there.
La vita e bella. I'm really enjoying myself here and am so thankful I'm working with such great people. I'm also meeting some really great people and making really good friends. I hope we keep having a good time.
Here's some photos of the latest activities.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Finally some photos from Afghanistan
One of the guys shared his photos from the first mission out with me. This what Farah, Afghanistan looks like, desert and mountains.
Looking down into Farah city during the first mission out.
Mountains outside the wire. Beautiful aren't they?
Me at 0200 in the morning, sitting inside a C-130 waiting for take off on the way to Kandahar. Yes, that's one of the new up-armored Humvees in the background. Notice my new, short haircut.
Me and one of the guys in front of Boyer Hall at FOB Farah. This was taken on Easter Sunday after all the excitement at the gate.
I hope you enjoyed the photos. I'll post more when I can.
Easter in Afghanistan
Wow, what a day!!! That's really all I can think of to sum up my feelings about Easter 2008 in Afghanistan.
It was our official change of command ceremony or as the Army calls it Transfer of Authority (TOA). Everyone was extremely busy on our little FOB preparing for the ceremony. We cleaned up the place and set up extra security measures, because we were visited by several high level VIPs. The governor of Farah, and a couple of generals and a full-bird colonel who are the top dogs in our chain of command, were some of the bigwigs who graced us with their presence. Everyone had a part to play, even me the S-1.
Because all local nationals who come onto the base must be searched, I was asked to assist down at the front gate by searching females who came to the ceremony. Due to the heightened security measures, I had to wear full-battle-rattle, in other words, my armor, kevlar helmet and weapons. Normally, we don’t wear this, but today we did. I searched the females as they came through and then was told to stay down at the gate, and help out with anything that might come up during the ceremony. We closed down the FOB and nothing was to come in or out during the festivities.
In a combat zone, if there’s ever a day when you don’t want anything to go wrong, it’s the day when you are responsible for the security of high level leaders. You become paranoid. Even the most routine situations must be questioned and scrutinized and treated as a potential threat. Basically, you just don’t want anything to happen or go wrong, but as luck would have it Murphy was working overtime yesterday.
We received a call that the Afghan National Police (ANP), were headed our way with two injured men seeking medical assistance. We weren’t sure if this was real or a ruse to get inside our security perimeter try to do some damage, so we locked and loaded our weapons. The sad thing to me is that we had to question the motives of people who were just bringing us their injured friends and family. But if you don’t treat every potential threat as real, you don’t come home safe.
We already had ANP and Afghan National Army (ANA) outside the gate waiting for the governor and chief of police, so they of course were very curious about the two men in the back of the truck. I helped with crowd control, because they all crowded the truck and it was hard for us to get into see what was happening with the casualties in the truck.
The men had been in an car accident. The ANP drive Ford Rangers around with rocket propelled grenade launchers (RPG) in the back of some trucks, but other trucks are used to carry four men in the back. These two men had been riding in the back, when somehow their truck overturned and they were thrown from the back of the truck. The younger man was drifting in and out of consciousness, but responsive to the medics. The other older man was completely unconscious and unresponsive to the medics. He had suffered sever head trauma and basically there was nothing that our docs could do for him. Now our docs are excellent doctors. But when it comes to head injuries unless you have the neuro skills there’s really not anything you can do to help them, and we just plain don’t have the equipment either. He was in really, really bad shape with barely a pulse and blood bubbling out of his nose and mouth.
Once our medical team got there, they moved both men out of the truck and began concentrating their efforts on the younger man who was less severely injured. They got him stabilized and called ahead to the Farah hospital to let them know to expect a patient. I’m not sure what his injuries were, but he was fully conscious when he left. Meanwhile the medics were making the older man more comfortable, by administering morphine and trying to control his bleeding. However, before too long his pulse disappeared and he passed quietly on.
It was a sobering, humbling experience to be that close to someone who died. I’ve never really experienced anyone dying while I am in the near vicinity. As he was lying in the back of the truck and I was helping to establish a perimeter to keep people away, my mind was wandering a bit. I was trying to concentrate on the job at hand and trying to keep an eye on the other men who were there. I wasn’t really thinking about anything, when I found myself singing quietly under my breath, “I believe there are angels among us, sent down to us from somewhere up above.” I stopped, realizing what I was singing. “They come to you and me in our darkest hours, to show us how to live, to teach us how to give. To guide us with the light of love.” (Angels Among Us, sung by Alabama)
There I was, with weapons loaded, at the ready, standing guard over two injured Afghan men, one of who was dying and I was singing Angels Among Us. I know God works in mysterious ways, and I know there were angels there that day watching over us and receiving the man who died into God’s presence. I was reminded in a very poignant way how much all of us are loved by our Father in Heaven. The song is familiar to me, but not one I sing when I need comfort or need to invite the Spirit into my heart. I can’t think of a reason why I would have sung it just then other than to say that the words were put in my mind for a reason. I needed some comfort in a very human, raw experience and God knows that for me music is my comforter.
Easter is such a wonderful day. I’m thankful for the reminders of Christ’s sacrifice and what it means. He overcame death for us, each one of us. This is his gift, his grace to us. He was the only human who could do it, and he deliberately chose to take our sins and shame upon him, and to give his life for us that we might live. Isn’t this wonderful!!
Interesting how God chooses to remind of his mercy and bless our lives. I hope you take some time to think about what Easter really means and the promise of life that Christ gives. I know you’ll blessed for doing so. As for me, this is one Easter I’ll remember for the rest of my life.
Happy Easter to all.
It was our official change of command ceremony or as the Army calls it Transfer of Authority (TOA). Everyone was extremely busy on our little FOB preparing for the ceremony. We cleaned up the place and set up extra security measures, because we were visited by several high level VIPs. The governor of Farah, and a couple of generals and a full-bird colonel who are the top dogs in our chain of command, were some of the bigwigs who graced us with their presence. Everyone had a part to play, even me the S-1.
Because all local nationals who come onto the base must be searched, I was asked to assist down at the front gate by searching females who came to the ceremony. Due to the heightened security measures, I had to wear full-battle-rattle, in other words, my armor, kevlar helmet and weapons. Normally, we don’t wear this, but today we did. I searched the females as they came through and then was told to stay down at the gate, and help out with anything that might come up during the ceremony. We closed down the FOB and nothing was to come in or out during the festivities.
In a combat zone, if there’s ever a day when you don’t want anything to go wrong, it’s the day when you are responsible for the security of high level leaders. You become paranoid. Even the most routine situations must be questioned and scrutinized and treated as a potential threat. Basically, you just don’t want anything to happen or go wrong, but as luck would have it Murphy was working overtime yesterday.
We received a call that the Afghan National Police (ANP), were headed our way with two injured men seeking medical assistance. We weren’t sure if this was real or a ruse to get inside our security perimeter try to do some damage, so we locked and loaded our weapons. The sad thing to me is that we had to question the motives of people who were just bringing us their injured friends and family. But if you don’t treat every potential threat as real, you don’t come home safe.
We already had ANP and Afghan National Army (ANA) outside the gate waiting for the governor and chief of police, so they of course were very curious about the two men in the back of the truck. I helped with crowd control, because they all crowded the truck and it was hard for us to get into see what was happening with the casualties in the truck.
The men had been in an car accident. The ANP drive Ford Rangers around with rocket propelled grenade launchers (RPG) in the back of some trucks, but other trucks are used to carry four men in the back. These two men had been riding in the back, when somehow their truck overturned and they were thrown from the back of the truck. The younger man was drifting in and out of consciousness, but responsive to the medics. The other older man was completely unconscious and unresponsive to the medics. He had suffered sever head trauma and basically there was nothing that our docs could do for him. Now our docs are excellent doctors. But when it comes to head injuries unless you have the neuro skills there’s really not anything you can do to help them, and we just plain don’t have the equipment either. He was in really, really bad shape with barely a pulse and blood bubbling out of his nose and mouth.
Once our medical team got there, they moved both men out of the truck and began concentrating their efforts on the younger man who was less severely injured. They got him stabilized and called ahead to the Farah hospital to let them know to expect a patient. I’m not sure what his injuries were, but he was fully conscious when he left. Meanwhile the medics were making the older man more comfortable, by administering morphine and trying to control his bleeding. However, before too long his pulse disappeared and he passed quietly on.
It was a sobering, humbling experience to be that close to someone who died. I’ve never really experienced anyone dying while I am in the near vicinity. As he was lying in the back of the truck and I was helping to establish a perimeter to keep people away, my mind was wandering a bit. I was trying to concentrate on the job at hand and trying to keep an eye on the other men who were there. I wasn’t really thinking about anything, when I found myself singing quietly under my breath, “I believe there are angels among us, sent down to us from somewhere up above.” I stopped, realizing what I was singing. “They come to you and me in our darkest hours, to show us how to live, to teach us how to give. To guide us with the light of love.” (Angels Among Us, sung by Alabama)
There I was, with weapons loaded, at the ready, standing guard over two injured Afghan men, one of who was dying and I was singing Angels Among Us. I know God works in mysterious ways, and I know there were angels there that day watching over us and receiving the man who died into God’s presence. I was reminded in a very poignant way how much all of us are loved by our Father in Heaven. The song is familiar to me, but not one I sing when I need comfort or need to invite the Spirit into my heart. I can’t think of a reason why I would have sung it just then other than to say that the words were put in my mind for a reason. I needed some comfort in a very human, raw experience and God knows that for me music is my comforter.
Easter is such a wonderful day. I’m thankful for the reminders of Christ’s sacrifice and what it means. He overcame death for us, each one of us. This is his gift, his grace to us. He was the only human who could do it, and he deliberately chose to take our sins and shame upon him, and to give his life for us that we might live. Isn’t this wonderful!!
Interesting how God chooses to remind of his mercy and bless our lives. I hope you take some time to think about what Easter really means and the promise of life that Christ gives. I know you’ll blessed for doing so. As for me, this is one Easter I’ll remember for the rest of my life.
Happy Easter to all.
Monday, March 10, 2008
I'm finally here
So, I've finally made it to Afghanistan and I'm sitting in Farah. Yay! After almost 3 weeks of traveling, we finally are all here. So, now I'm working with the other S-1 doing turnover and learning what job really is. The others on my team are doing the same thing.
There are beautiful mountains on all four sides and it's a lot less dusty here than in Kandahar. The FOB is pretty small, but a lot bigger than I had imagined. We have barracks that are 2 foot thick concrete barracks, with bathrooms attached. We are living in the lap of luxury! We have lots of other concrete buildings that house the engineering staff, the mechanics, the civil affairs and our operations center. I'd post some photos, but for some reason the internet connection times out when I try to post them.
Needless to say, my time is valuable and I'm learning a lot right now. Sorry this is short, but I'll be able to update more frequently now that I'm in Farah.
There are beautiful mountains on all four sides and it's a lot less dusty here than in Kandahar. The FOB is pretty small, but a lot bigger than I had imagined. We have barracks that are 2 foot thick concrete barracks, with bathrooms attached. We are living in the lap of luxury! We have lots of other concrete buildings that house the engineering staff, the mechanics, the civil affairs and our operations center. I'd post some photos, but for some reason the internet connection times out when I try to post them.
Needless to say, my time is valuable and I'm learning a lot right now. Sorry this is short, but I'll be able to update more frequently now that I'm in Farah.
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