Life on an Island

I grew up in Michigan, so prior to this job, I had no frame of reference for this post. However, after almost 9 months, I feel like I can comment. While in the Navy, I had friends who were stationed in Hawaii. I used to be very envious and told them what a great tour that must have been. People pay big bucks to vacation there, and the Navy sent them and paid them while they were there!

Every single of one of them (that were not born there) said how much they could not stand it after about six months. I asked why, and they all said "island fever." You can not drive anywhere, you see the same scenery, there is not much to do, etc. I would say "you can go the beach" and they all said that after six months, boring! I asked them that what was the difference with the mainland? All I did was drive to work, drive home, etc. It is not like I went somewhere else constantly. And their response? Yeah, but you COULD if you wanted to. On an island, you are stuck.

The same thought struck me the other day while I was driving (at 12 mph) to work. I think I would kill to see or do something different. Just to have the opportunity to drive somewhere, anywhere other than this "island" I am stuck on!

You all know the feeling: Just get in your car and go. Not many of us do (family, job, MONEY etc keep us from doing it) but you know you CAN if you want to. I can't. Well, actually I can drive off base, the Army will just wave, but I will undoubtedly regret it once I get a few klicks (kilometers) away (Kandahar city ain't that far!)


One of my guys built a "crow's nest" over one of the connexes I use for a fence around my area, and when I asked why (he has been over here for about 5 years) and he said, "so I can see something different." Now mind you, it's not like it is some lush garden just outside the fence! It is just as hot and dusty, with nothing worth looking at outside as there is inside, but it is "different." I attached a couple of pics, one of the crow's nest and one of view from the crow's nest.

I did not "get it" when he built it.

I get it now.

Another Year?

Sorry, I have not had much time to write as of late. I went home for my 3 weeks of R&R (Rest and Relaxation) then back here to Kandahar. My site continues to grow and I am looking at doubling in size in the next couple of weeks, both in personnel and jobs! So it will get stupid busy in the near future!

I finally broke down and told my family about the attacks, etc at this place. After Kandahar Air Field (KAF) was attacked by the bad guys in late May (about four days before I flew home) I knew it would hit the news and it did. So I finally decided to explain this place. I had hoped to keep it quiet from my family, but the best laid plans of mice and men...

We take daily (sometimes three to four times a day) rocket attacks. There is not much you can do, because normally you hear the "boom" and THEN the siren goes off! Pretty much if you hear the siren, you are still alive. It happens so often that I no longer think about it. I expect all my people to report in that they are still alive, and I either roll back over and go to sleep, or go back to work depending on the time of the day when the attack happened.

The ground attack was interesting. They hit the north side of the base and you could hear the small arms fire and rockets etc. I waited until my employees had all reported in, and then (after the gunships and A-10s took off) went back to bed. I had to be at work the next day after all! The good thing: no good guys were killed and some bad guys were. Fair trade for missing a few hours of sleep I guess.

My boss was here late May (I have seen him a grand total of seven days in the 9 months I have worked for him.) I spoke with my him before I headed home to look at career options. He asked me to "turn and burn" and do another year. Most of my team was pushing for the same thing. I told him (and them) I would decide after I spoke with my family face to face.

I flew out of KAF into Dubai and then 14 1/12 hour to Atalanta then Detroit. Yeah, the flight sucked hard. I did have some adjustments to make when I got home.

Driving: after going 20km (12 miles) and hour for seven months, going 50 seemed like I was flying!

The first week or so was settling back into a stateside lifestyle, which I found hard to do. I had not seen a tv in over seven months (and lived to tell about it!,) so it was hard to get excited when somebody asked me had I seen "whatever." Super Bowl? I can not remember who even played or who won since that was the day I woke up to about 4 feet of water everywhere on the base, toilets tipped over, my doors on my buildings ripped off because of the wind etc.

My mind continued to drift back to work and my life at KAF. As I listened to those around discuss their lives, many complaining about this or that, I thought of all the sh*t my crew and I put up with, the real sh*t the soldiers put up with as they head out on patrol, and thought, wtf, you people don't have a clue how truly tough it can be. But I tried not to say anything, just smiled and listened to them complain.

I did get a chance to meet with some old friends, and many just shook their heads when I explained about a second year in one breath, while describing the rocket attacks, land mines that still litter this base, tent living, etc in the next breath.

So I agreed to one more year here in glorious KAF. Why, you might ask? The money is good, the job is fun, the people I work with are great (well, most are, some are a pain in the a*s) and I hope the job is making some sort of difference. Probably not, because this country is a friggin' basket case, but hey, you gotta try.

Anyway, it beats working for a living...

Influences on my liife

I had another post in mind to write, but this one popped up suddenly. I have lived a very transient life, both professionally and personally. Moving every three years or so, and getting a new job in the process does not make for lasting relationships.

Because of this life style, I have two choices to make in regards to acquaintances: 1) keep them at arm's length, be civil and polite, but never really get to know them because, lets face it, I (or they) am/are leaving, or 2) get to really know them in a very short, intense time, because, lets face it, I (or they) am/are leaving.

As I look back on my unique lifestyle, I think about the conversations I have had with people who in other circumstances, I would have taken years to talk about some of the topics we spoke about. I am not the first to notice that in an intense, aggressive operational mode you sometimes get to know people better than you would your brother (or sister.)

I am somewhat envious of people who have had the same friends over 20 or 30 years, while most of mine have moved on to other areas of the globe. However, I would say that I value their contributions to my life no less, and because we only had a short time together, maybe value their friendship even more. They also had the same two choices in regards to me and chose to become friends. It is easy to take for granted your friends and family when you think you have years left with them.

I have a friend, and I am proud to call her a friend, who worked with me for about three months and is moving on. In that short space of time, we had numerous conversations about family, career, politics and just general bs. She helped me laugh and I hope I helped her laugh during some pretty lengthy days. I know a little bit about her family, and she knows a little bit about mine. I highly doubt we will ever run into one another (although we do have a bet on it) but I will remember the time we shared and the influence she had on my life.

Good luck, M

Freedom

Yeah, I know what you are thinking. Retired military, still "serving" in some capacity, I am sure he is going to write about waving-the-flag-type freedom. Nope.

I had a guy last week who quit suddenly and gave me just four days notice (by the way it is a serious pain in the a*s to get a person back to the states in four days in case you were wondering.) Nice guy, great worker, solid reputation. There are some extenuating circumstances that I won't get into, since it would violate his privacy but suffice it to say, it was not work related. He told me he is not sure where he is going to end up, and he is going to decide each day what he will do. Some comments that were made by my people led me to this post.

The man was single, no kids, no house, no car, dog, cat, bird, whatever. Everyone made statements, all in the same vein, saying he is "free," and can do what he wants. Most were envious of his "freedom" and his lifestyle.

So I thought, what is freedom? Am I any less "free' because I am married with kids, house, dog, cars, cat etc? Am I tied down, because of these things, and therefor I should look in envy at a guy who can at a moment's notice leave and go somewhere else? Is that our definition of freedom?

In case you may agree with my above statements (and you are entitled to your opinion it is a free country after all!!) let me remind you: I am not tied down to anything or anybody. It is my choice each and every day to stay married, to remain a father (and there are plenty of "fathers' who won't have jack sh*t to do with their kids) keep my house (easier and easier to get rid of nowadays) sell my car, etc and have the same lifestyle as the person above. I might keep my dog, however! Like my daughter says, my dog is not really a dog, but is an "accessory!"

One of my people said it best: freedom is the opportunity to choose.

Because I choose each day to live the life I live, I don't feel any less free than my old employee and wish him the best of luck. Knowing I have a choice, I don't think I would choose his lifestyle.

"Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose"-Janis Joplin

Standards and How Quickly They Change

I have had this post "written" in my head for some time, but I have not had much time to write it. Working 7/12 with conference calls every evening after 7 pm (it is during normal working hours back in the states) makes it hard to squeeze in time to write.

I had a number of people back in the states tell me they could not do this because of (pick your reason and insert here.) What I have found in my varied lifestyle is how quickly you can adapt to any situation if you choose to do so, you just have to let your standards slip. Kinda like the ugly guy who can not get a date: lower your standards, dude, you will get a date!

I used to enjoy taking showers where 1) I had some measure of privacy, 2) could control the water temperature and flow, 3) and I did not freeze my a*s off when I stepped out into a tent to dry off and shave. Standards most of us live by and have gotten used to. Umm, not here in good ole' Afghanistan! All three of the standards above I have had to let slip in the interest of cleanliness and to keep my tent mates from "convincing" me of the need to take a shower!

Sleeping arrangements: Yeah, I used to enjoy sleeping in my own bed, plenty of room, fluffy pillows my significant other had on the bed, adjusting the ambient temperature to a degree more conducive to sleeping. Oh, and most importantly, the area around my bed was CLEAN.

You can pretty much toss everything above out the window. I have a lower bunk, my crap is tossed on the bunk above (no dresser,) I had to put a board beneath my mattress to give me some degree of support, and I am a happy camper when I can sweep the rocks and dirt away from where I put my feet at just prior to hopping into bed. And don't forget to wipe your feet or you will be sleeping with rocks in your bed! Ain't life grand!

Eating arrangements: Bet you think I am gonna talk about the quality of the food, huh? Nope, that goes without saying. I remember in the grand old days when I sat at a table, with silverware made of something other than plastic, real glasses, and oh, yeah the food was hot!. And if I wanted, I could drive to any number of restaurants and grab something to eat. Everything listed here is not happening at the dining facility I eat at in Kandahar. None of it. We eat in a tent (of freaking course, what else would you expect?) and sit at picnic tables with plastic water bottles (the water here is not safe to drink) and plastic knives and forks. Yeah, it blows

And to let you know how low my standards have dropped, we have started a tradition of "eating out" on Fridays (the line at the d-fac is stupid long 'cause it is steak and seafood night) and we order either Burger King or Pizza Hut (your only two choices) and have it delivered to the tent by a dude on a moped. I sit on the side of my bunk and eat my whopper (the only other choice is chicken) and two thoughts come to mind: First, this food is pretty good, and second my standards have really slipped if I consider this to be the highlight of my week!

And I also wonder how I can get the food delivered to my tent, but I can not get indoor plumbing???

Some days I feel like the guy in The Shawshank Redemption: I used to have a pretty good life! The only advantage I have (if you have seen the movie) is it won't take me years to cut a hole in the side of my tent to get out!

Having said all that to say this; I eat every day, I take a shower every morning, and I sleep every night. Let your standards slip, you will be surprised at what you can adjust to.

Personalities and their quirks

I have been trying to think of a way to write this post. I look at the group of people that have come to make up the place where I work. They are a very diverse and unique group with personalities that I am not sure would be "acceptable"in the States in a corporate environment, or for that matter, any social gathering! And remember, unlike the military, they can quit (and get fired of course) so it does change the rules somewhat. And most are on at least their second deployment so take that for what it is worth.

But somehow, they have all gelled to produce a site that is pretty fun to work at, and more importantly, get the job done. With a 7 day a week, 12 hour a day (in reality 24) job for a solid year, it is hard to stay motivated. So as a manager, I know there are things and issues I stand firm on, and others I just laugh about. And trust, me I laugh about a lot!

I have given some thought to what it takes to survive out here, and what kind of person "fits in" and won't crack under the constant work load and very little opportunity for any type of diversion. I think they have to be slightly off kilter, able to work independently, and have a hell of a work ethic, is a given.

You can forget any type of corporate look as well. Hair styles run from "normal' (whatever normal is) to pony tails to mohawks. And you can not consider yourself "welcomed" into the team until you get the port-o-potty treatment. There is no indoor plumbing here, so when you are on the port-o-potty, I gurantee you will get the rock (sometimes several) thrown at the side of the can. Yeah, loud as rifle shot and you are never expecting it. It literally scares the sh*t out of you. Or, you have one of my supervisors throw a rock, watch it curve, and hear, "no, not the truck" as it goes through the rear window of what used to be my truck. We switched vehicles after that little incident.

It helps, but is not mandatory, to be ex-military because you have probably already deployed and you are used to "this" whatever "this" may be. But I have people with no military background who are fitting in quite nicely so it is certainly not a "must."

Some use different methods to "fit in." A sense of a humor is absolute necessity. Without one, you will crack or quit, I am absolutely positive of that. Everyone has a weakness, and here, they will exploit your weakness so without a sense of humor (and revenge!) you will have a very hard time.

As soon as the group found out one person had a fear of clowns (yeah, clowns) it was game on and clown stuff is popping up everywhere at work. But, realize that this is the same guy that was putting fake snakes in people's drawers , etc so turn about is fair play.

I have a 50 something Puerto Rican grandpa who has two gold earrings, a "do-rag" wears shorts that are not quite shorts and not quite pants, plays Latin music at full volume and drinks "near beer" since alcohol l is not allowed. The first time I saw him at the tent and he said "Jefe (Spanish for boss) have a beer" with the look I described above, I thought "when in the hell did I walk into the barrio?"

But, when I can understand him, he is pretty fun to talk to and the best I have seen at scrounging stuff to make the site work. He tells me he has the "Puerto Rican connection." I don't care as long as I get what I need to continue to make the site work. If I did not turn a blind eye to the methods used to "acquire" what we need, nothing would get done.

With 30 plus people (and growing) I could (and might) write a book about my team and their various quirks that keep them sane. Most are married, and many with children, so they each deal with that in their own way. Some talk to each other, some "compartmentalize" as a coping method.

As I have learned my team and discovered what makes each one "tick' and what it takes to make them happy and working, it has been a blast! It sucks being away, but the job (and the people) never gets boring!

More Thoughts of Kandahar

I have a couple of other thoughts about the place I am residing at for the next 10 months or so.

Driving: I actually have several points to make.

1) The speed limit everywhere on base is 20km (12 mph.) And the cops actually use radar! Do you know how hard it is to drive 12 mph? You can barely get your truck out of first gear! Sometimes, late at night, I go crazy and creep up to 30km (18mph) and when the moon is full, I shift into third and hit 40km (25mph!) Nothing like living life on the edge!
2) The speed limit needs to be that slow. Some people are stupid, and walk out in front of you, and some people (this is a NATO base) were not born behind the wheel of a car like an American, and it shows! And don't get me started about Jingle trucks and their Afghan drivers who are all over this base...

Communication:

1) I have a cell and it works (sometimes.) As I drove around my lot in circles late last night (the time zone issue blows) trying to find the signal to call into my conference call, it hit me: This is a pain in the a*s! But it does beat the olden days when you, you know, wrote letters and stood in line to use the phone and crazy stuff like that.
2) THANK GOD for the Internet and email! You can still keep in touch with your family and find out the latest dumb a*s stuff coming out of the puzzle palace in Wash DC.
3) Texting always works. Not sure why, but I can always text, even when I can not get a voice call. I have become quite proficient at the art of texting. I am trying to give my brother-in-law's daughter a run for her money when I get home!

Living conditions:
Tent living sucks, tent showers suck, standing in line to eat sucks. I walk on rocks all day, and I never thought I would live to see the day when I could not wait to walk on concrete, let alone grass!

Other than that, this place is the garden spot of the mid-east! I am really trying to find out what the Russians were trying to accomplish when they invaded this country (I am SURE you knew that fact, if not, watch Charlie Wilson's War,) which started the whole chain of events that led to me being over here...