Everybody Sweat Now!

I've been hitting the gym almost every day since I got here, a pattern that is not unusual among the ISAF population.

There are plenty of reasons for this. Psychologically, it's just nice to get out of the office and work out (plus it's fun). Professionally, physical fitness is an important component of being a military dude, even for those of us who aren't running around and kicking down doors. And of course physically, it just helps with general well being. Did I mention the DFAC feeds us pretty well? So we've got to work that off too, and I'm sure we're all hoping to head home in better shape than when we got here. It'd be embarrassing to gain weight in a war zone, right?

And despite long, busy days, it's not hard to find the time to hit the gym. I mean, it's not like we're going out and doing stuff with our families in the evenings or driving across town to a local restaurant. Seriously, if you're not in the office or the DFAC, there aren't a ton of other options. Well, there's Ciano's (pronounced chee-ahn-oh's), the Italian cafe that makes lovely espressos, but that's for another post.

Lately, I've noticed I'm sweating a lot more than when I started out. A LOT more. Now, I'm also exercising longer, pushing harder and running farther than when I started, but by the time I'm done with my run you'd think I'd been swimming instead. Not sure if that means I'm getting in better shape, if it's a function of just exercising longer, or if the gym is getting more crowded and therefore more humid. It got pretty humid in Virginia and I'm not sure I ever quite looked like this.

I did sign up for a 10K run on New Years Eve - by the time you read this, I'll probably be done. The run is sponsored by the Spanish contingent and they gave out cool t-shirts for all the runners. They also collected $25 from each of us, to put towards building a girl's school in Wardak province. So everyone wins.

The other fun gym thing is Monday night floor hockey. We play a fairly gentlemanly game, with all due consideration to avoid injuries, but there are a few players who can get a little aggressive - I'm definitely not one of them. We line the gym walls with blue floor mats / cushions, and spend a fair amount of time each game replacing fallen mats or trying to retrieve the ball from behind the mats. It helps keep the pace at a reasonable level.

 I manage to play alright, despite having no hockey background at all. I just imagine it's soccer with sticks - and last time, I even scored a goal. I actually may have scored twice that game - a guy on the other team said my second shot went in, but it was disputed... then again, we don't keep score, so it's not like we spent a lot of time reviewing the instant replay tapes.

I accidentally tried to catch the ball with my forehead once, which worked about as well as you might imagine. I felt better after sitting down for a few minutes. Speaking of not working out, I also tried to take pictures of the game. Apparently my camera works best if the subject is close by, well lit and not moving. So yeah, no action pictures from hockey, but I do have this fuzzy, off-centered one of everyone standing still. Enjoy!

Monday Night Hockey

More Christmas Photos

Just for fun, a couple more Christmas photos from around ISAF HQ.

Decorations at the DFAC

Srecko wearing a paper hat
from a British Christmas cracker

Santa & a Reindeer

Mail Time!

My time here in Kabul has given me a whole new appreciation for the US Postal Service. Not just because they get packages here in 6 days, although that's impressive. But what really knocks me out is how unique and enviable the US mail system is.

For the most part, my international buddies just don't get mail. There's simply no infrastructure available to deliver such things from home, at least not affordably. For example, a medium sized flat rate box costs $10.95 to send here via US mail, but it would cost $45 to send to Romania. I'm not sure how much it would cost to ship direct from Romania to Afghanistan, but I'll bet it's a lot more than $11.

As you might imagine, the guys really like ordering things through Amazon, because here at ISAF they have the equivalent of a US mailing address. That means free shipping most of the time, and access to stuff they can't get any other way.

So the next time I hear a reference to snail mail, I'm gonna have to call foul. A letter may take a long time to get across the country compared to email, but my hat is definitely off to the fine men and women of the US Post Office.

My Boots

My boots were basically new when I got here. I'd worn them at CAST training for two weeks, and around the Pentagon for a couple weeks more, but they were pretty nice looking. After one month in theater, they look like this:

 

It'll be interesting to see what they look like in May!

Wartime Christmas Mealtime

DFAC At Christmas

The DFAC here really pulled out all the stops for the big Christmas meal(s) they put on today. Lunch was the main event and it was fantastic. Notice the red table cloth, for example, and the little dish of nuts and cookies in the middle of the table.

In case you can't tell, that's a non-alcoholic Becks in the picture, since we're not allowed to drink the real stuff. If you've never had it, I can attest that it does taste like beer. It just doesn't feel like beer, but hey, we take what we can get.

The menu said goose but the guy serving the food said duck. Either way, it was tasty. And speaking of tasty, I don't know what they did to the turkey but it was fantastic.

The Grinch made an appearance, along with Cindy Lou Who - aka the Australian Army Master Chef who runs the joint.

All in all, it was about as festive and Christmas-y as can be. Definitely a nice break from the usual and a nice way to celebrate the day.

I even found a totally delish star-shaped ice cream thing, to go along with that piece of cake I was looking for.

Merry Christmas everyone!

Om nom nom

All around the camp, you see these little wooden crosses. No, they're not evidence that an overzealous Chaplain has been working overtime. They're actually designed to hold our body armor and helmets. 

 

Around the holidays, a few of us... ok, maybe just one of us...  decided to put them to a different use.

 

My roomie and I were thinking of starting a Door Decorating Contest, just so we can win.

 

Merry Christmas everyone!

DFAC Christmas: Let Me Eat Cake

The Dining Facility (DFAC) really does a good job of taking care of us, no matter how much people may complain or get tired of eating chicken. Personally, I  miss english muffins and bagels, but aside from a few omissions like that, the food's been quite tasty and the variety has been admirable.

Naturally, the DFAC is decorated for the season, with festive stuff hanging from the ceiling. There are also several Christmas trees with blinking lights and a big blinking Frosty The Snowman hanging out near the condiments.

Curious what they're going to feed us on Christmas day? Well, check out the menu they posted on the wall about two weeks ago. You may have to click on the image to make it bigger, but it looks like quite a spread for lunch AND for dinner.

I mean seriously - roasted goose? I don't think I've ever had goose before, so you bet I'm going to try some tomorrow.

And interestingly, there's a distinct lack of cheese in our diet out here. Some dishes have a cheese sauce, but generally there's not a lot of cheese most days. I don't know what that's about. Imagine how excited I am to see the Cheese Board and Crackers on the menu. Om nom nom.

AND... there's going to be cake. Remember how I mentioned I miss bagels and english muffins? Well I miss cake even more. They do have some cool desserts most days (tho I tend to skip them), but they never have cake. So yeah, I'm totally having cake. And probably a brownie. Om nom nom indeed.

Peace On Earth

I don't know who painted this little mural on one of the cement barriers just outside the entrance to the ISAF HQ compound, but it seemed an appropriate message for Christmas Eve. May it always be so...

Orphanage Photos

And here are some photos from the orphanage trip.

One Of The Kids
& Some Troops

Another Of The Kids

Afghan Scout HQ

The Afghan Scouts In Formation

Women Baking Bread Through
A Hole In The Floor

More Market Photos

As a follow-up to the previous post, here are some shots from today's market excursion.

Me & the Flat Girls Outside The Bazaar

My Favorite Coat Vendor

Jewelry & Chess Sets

Love These Hats!

Some Gorgeous Sheepskin Coats

Traditional Afghan Hats

Modeling A Fur Hat

Another Shot Of The Wares

What Price You Happy?

A Rug Vendor

Every Friday, local vendors set up their wares to sell to the ISAF HQ population. Scarves are a big draw, along with rugs and jewelry.

All the prices are negotiable, and it's not unusual for a piece to have an asking price of $80, then sell for $20. Not that the vendor would be averse to taking your $80, but he's doing alright with the $20.

The typical pitch begins with a handshake that doesn't let go... or an invitation to "Look my shop," and an explanation that it's free to look. Find something you like and want to know how much it'll set you back? The answer is almost always "What price you happy?" because clearly, your happiness is the vendor's only concern, what with you two being best friends forever and all that.

 Haggling ensues. You know you're making progress when the vendor leans in very close and whispers an amount, as if he doesn't want the guy in the next booth (or any other potential customers) to know his secret price. My most effective technique? Walking away after the vendor has already put the item into the bag. That seems to trim $5 off the price pretty regularly.

While the vendors can get a little aggressive with their sales pitches, not everyone gets the same treatment. My Romanian buddy Bogdan tends to get brushed off with a "Romanian - no money." We might tease him a little about that, but the joke's on us. Prices for Americans are much higher than other nationalities, and Bogdan can pick stuff up for a fraction of what I'd pay.

Because of that, we tend to team up. I've got a Macedonian friend named Goran who's a pretty good haggler. We either make arrangements in advance or subtly indicate what we like. Then Goran does his thing. Not sure if we're really fooling anyone, but it seems to work out alright for all concerned.

Srecko modeling a
scarf & hat with
a scarf vendor

I got a high compliment after personally negotiating for some jackets. "You are not real American," the guy said, shaking his head over the low price we'd just agreed on. Again, not sure how much of that was theater, but I was pretty happy with the price... and Goran later said he was impressed I'd only paid $40 for two crazy-soft sheepskin leather jackets.

The market is actually part of the counter-insurgency strategy. It connects ISAF with some of the locals, provides jobs and stimulates the economy. In several ways, buying scarves contributes to the mission. So really, the weekly shopping trip is just one more part of the job.

Orphanage Trip

I recently had an opportunity to visit a local orphanage, to help distribute humanitarian supplies (and candy). It's definitely one of the more meaningful experiences of my time here, if only because we could directly see the impact of the work.

 

Green Arrow Marks The Spot... I think

Getting there was half the fun. The drive to the facility was a lot longer than the 20 minutes they projected during the mission briefing. I can't confirm whether the picture below showing the route Google calculated for me is the actual path we took, both for security reasons and because I frankly have no idea what roads we were on. For that matter, I'm not entirely sure that little green arrow in the top picture is in the right place, but I'm pretty sure it's close. 

Anyway, I definitely got to see quite a lot of Kabul. Both guys in the drive team were from Boston, so listening to them talk felt like I was in a weird remake of Good Will Hunting. How ya like them apples?

We went sorta this way... I think

The city scenery was sad and grim. Kabul is not a pretty city. Plus, the air quality was really bad that day and everything was surrounded by a stronger brown haze than usual. There's a lot of rubble, dust and dirt everywhere, as if a big construction project had been interrupted and all the heavy equipment went off to work on a new project. Except there's no project, no equipment. This is what war and corruption does to a place.

 

I saw a few guys sitting on the sidewalk with sewing machines, mending people's shoes. Lots of street vendors selling nuts and other things I couldn't identify from the small windows in our armored SUV. There were lots of bicycles and lots of people walking around. Some women were completely veiled while others just wore head scarves (well, clothes too of course. You know what I mean). 

Pretty much everyone looked small and thin. If I didn't already know I was in a foreign country, this trip definitely hammered that message home. I was a little bit surprised to see so many produce stands, selling citrus fruits, veggies, etc. How do they get oranges in December around here? We also passed a few butcher shops, displaying their products in a way that doesn't appeal to me personally but must be quite popular here.

In contrast to the city, the orphanage was almost pleasant. As you can see from the top Google image, it's a bit outside the congestion of the city. The facility is nestled right up against a mountain range, and if the air quality had been better it could have almost been pretty. The kids were adorable and excited to see us. We handed out blankets and candy, then played some soccer with them, listened to a group of girls sing a song and watched nervously as the boys made a human pyramid 3-layers high. They gave us some tea and cookies, an unexpected treat (and since the DFAC closed before we got back, that ended up being our lunch for the day). The HQ for the Afghan scouting program is here, so a big number of the kids (boys and girls) were wearing their scout uniforms.

 

One of my favorite moments was when a group of girl scouts did a martial arts demonstration. It's fantastic to see these young ladies learning the discipline and self-confidence associated with something like karate. Girl power, Afghan-style.

 

I made some balloon animals for the smaller kids, which didn't work out quite as well as I'd hoped. I think I only blew up two before the kids all grabbed the uninflated balloons. There was nothing I could do to avoid it. I was both a- and be- mused as I watched them try to blow up the balloons themselves. Eventually some of them figured out that my balloon pump was the best way to do it, so they wandered back and let me do my thing. Next time I'll have some balloons pre-inflated and some animals pre-made, so they'll understand better how it's supposed to work.

I'm looking forward to going back again next month... and the month after that... until it's time to go home.

PS: Several photos of me were taken... but I haven't received them yet. I'll post them when they arrive.

The Rock Chapel

I arrived at the ISAF HQ compound at 0700 on a Sunday morning. By 0800, I was in the chapel. At some point, I took this photo of Flat Beth and Flat Jenna there in the chapel, with Chaplain Garcia setting up in the background. 

How did I get there so early & so quickly? Well, my predecessor sang in the choir and invited me to come along with him for the morning service. Despite my fatigue and jetlag, I wasn't going to turn that down. I'm sure my emotional state contributed to this perception, but it was one of the best church services I've ever been to in my life. Definitely a good way to start this deployment.

 

Since that time, I've continued to attend every Sunday. The Chaplain is a pentacostal and the congregation has people from all sorts of backgrounds, so it's an interesting blend. A pretty great blend, actually. The fact that this is the only show in town means we all get exposed to different ideas, practices and beliefs... and we find that we've actually got a lot in common. There is also an "inspirational" (i.e. Pentacostal) service on Sunday evenings, for those who are so inclined, and I imagine that one is a bit more homogenous. But for sheer diversity, I much prefer the morning service. I am a little surprised the congregation isn't not more international. Most of the people there seem to be Americans. Of course, America alone provides a fair amount of diversity all on its own.

 

How should I describe the singing? It's loud. It's enthusiastic. It's 95% male voices. I find myself singing louder than I usually would, just because I can, thanks to the volume around me. There's a guitar and a piano, and they're looking for someone who can play the drums. I happened to sit in front of a female officer with a great voice the other day and must say it was nice to hear a non-bass contribution to the songs.

Uniforms

Apparently my ABU (Airman Battle Uniform) isn't really a BU. Before I left the states the AF gave me a whole different uniform that I'm supposed to wear when I go outside the wire. It's called the ABS-G, and I wear it even when I'm just hanging around the office.

As you can see from the photo, it's the same camo pattern as the ABU. What you can't see is it's a different type of fabric that's fire resistant (thus the requirement to wear it outside the wire). It's also lighter and more comfortable and has velcro around the ankles so we don't have to blouse our boots. That's why I wear it pretty much every day, even though it's on the baggy side and looks kinda dumpy (note: the lump on my right hip is my pistol). Still, since I can't wear it in the States so I figured I'd better get Uncle Sam's money's worth.

Instead of a bunch of patches, the ABS-G has a single aircrew-style velcro patch with my name, ranks and service on it. So that's different, and frankly it's triggering a little uniform envy on my part. So many of the other nations around here have cool looking uniforms with multiple unit patches, cool insignias, colorful berets, and even uniforms that look like they fit. Of course, not all camo is enviable. My Romanian buddy gets teased a little because his pattern looks sort of like a giraffe.

On the plus side, I do get to wear a pretty nifty hat. It's alternately called a Boonie Cap or a Floppy Hat. I don't have a real strong feeling about how it looks, but since they issued it to me and I can't wear it back in the states, you bet I'm going to wear the heck out of it over here. Just because I can.

Another uniform feature you don't see in the states is these little light fobs, usually attached to a button hole (that's my original ABU in the photo on the right). It's a convenient way to carry some light for those moments when we're walking around over uneven terrain in the dark. I do that more often than I'd prefer to, and I confess it feels kinda cool to wear that light.

Supposedly, I'm going to be issued a whole other uniform, called the OCP or Multicam pattern. It's an Army uniform that a lot of AF and Navy people also wear (and the British camo looks just like it as well). I haven't confirmed that they're going to issue that to me, but if they do I think that'll mean a whole new set of jackets, new body armor & helmet cover and (yay!) a full set of interesting patches to wear. If that happens, I'll be sure to post photos.

The Colosseum

Despite the sweat and discomfort I experience at the gym (aka the Colosseum), it's probably my favorite place on camp (aside form the DFAC). Not because it's so posh and fancy, but because it's a nice break from the routine. I get there almost every day, and thanks to the Australian trainer who's stationed there, I'm working through a pretty tough regimin.

By US standards, the gym is austere. The basketball court floor has certainly seen better days, for example, but by deployment standards, it's got to be one of the best equipped gyms around. There are plenty of treadmills, stationary bikes, rowing machines and weight lifting equipment. I'm impressed with the number and variety of classes they offer - everything from spinning to yoga - and it seems like there's always a special workout or run or something going on.

For example, the "Hero Workout" in this poster scares me a little. Notice the small print that says the actual workout will be revealed on the day of the event. Man, you have to be pretty tough to sign up and pay $20 (it's a fundraiser) for a workout... and not know what it's going to be. Talk about being ready for anything, right?

I did notice a quirky feature in the equipment room, however. I came across this locker full of boxing gloves... but the shelves are have labels like "volleyball," soccer," and "half marathon." Come on, I know this is an armed military camp, but seriously, what kind of volleyball do they play around here? On second thought, maybe I don't want to know.

And then there's the mountain of bottled water. I think I previously mentioned that we can't drink the tap water, so everywhere you go there are these big stashes of bottled water, free for the taking. As far as I can tell, the gym has the biggest stash. My only question is how they managed to stack it so high. Maybe that was the mystery workout from the poster. It makes me thirsty just thinking about it.

Ooh, That Smell

Man there are some funky smells around here. The sewage treatment facility isn't far from my dorm, but thankfully we don't get wind of it too often. However, the plant is also right next to the vehicle entrance gate where we wait for visitors that need escorts. Let me tell you, hanging out at that gate for an hour or so isn't my favorite way to spend an evening. I feel bad for the Macedonian guards who have to spend a whole lot more time there than I do.

But even apart from that, I've smelled smells out here that I've never smelled before. Smoke is relatively common of course, but I don't even have words to describe some of the other scents of Kabul. Sometimes there's sort of a cabbage-ish scent... ok, I'll stop there to spare you any sympathetic olifactory trauma.

Let's just say I'm really looking forward to getting back to the states, driving into the Adirondacks, and just breathing as deeply as I can.

Someone To Watch Over Me

Along with the dusk and smoke and smells in the air, there's a blimp with a video camera hanging out over ISAF HQ. I guess it's looking for bad guys or something. There's definitely something comforting about seeing it up there. I hope they'll let me go up for a ride in it sometime! (kidding of course - it's unmanned)

 

We've also got a lot of helo's in the air, and that's a vehicle I definitely plan to get a ride in. I'm not supposed to take pictures, so I won't (or if I do, I won't post them here... heh). Let me just say they're around a lot and it's not unusual to see an open door with a big metal tube sticking out. Probably safe to assume that's a gun of some kind. 

And of course, every time I hear a helo flying around, the theme to MASH starts going in my head.

 

Rules & Regulations

I'm not known for being a real rules & regulations kind of guy, but walking and driving around here has given me a whole new appreciation for a number of things, most notably OSHA.

The uneven pavement, low-hanging wires and lack of lighting is just the start of it. It definitely keeps us on our toes when we walk around camp, particularly at night. I imagine it's even worse outside the wire, because at least on camp there are no piles of garbage or open sewers to dodge. Surprisingly, there are relatively few injuries, so maybe good lighting and smooth sidewalks are overrated.

The few times I've been in a vehicle outside the camp, I'm amazed at how people drive around here. The lanes aren't clearly marked, so the roads might have two "lanes" of traffic heading in one direction and one in the other, then suddenly the situation is reversed and now two or three rows of cars are coming towards us as we merge into a single lane. Fortunately the cars are creeping along at low speed, so it's not as scary as it sounds. The bicycles and donkey carts help keep the speed down too.

And then there are the pedestrians - with no crosswalks to be found and the slow pace of the vehicles, people pretty much cross the street wherever they want to. Old people, kids, women behind veils, all walking into traffic. I've never thought jaywalking was a big deal or a serious offence, but after seeing how things go over here, I'm now a big fan of jaywalking laws.

Then there's the complete lack of environmental protections. The water isn't potable, the air is horribly polluted, the sidewalks are full of trash, the sewer system... well, there isn't really one. We've got a sewage treatment facility here on our camp (not far from my dorm - yay!) but it's a bit of a rarity here in Kabul. And then there are the knock-off surge protectors that we're not supposed to buy or use, 'cause they tend to catch fire.

So the next time you hear people complain about government regulations, just take a deep breath of clean air, drink some tap water, cross the street safely and notice all the hazards you don't have to worry about. Go ahead, plug something into a surge protector without a second thought. Then write a thank you note to OSHA.

This Is My Rifle, This Is My Gun

One of the major adjustments to camp life is the requirement to be armed at all times (except when I'm at the gym). In keeping with the regulations, I carry a 9mm Beretta everywhere (I've also got an M4 rifle locked in a case under my bed). I'm not a gun guy at all. Until I went to CAST in October, it had been 17 years since I'd even touched a gun. It definitely takes some getting used to.

Let's try on all 3 at once!

Packing heat sounds cool in theory, but frankly it's sort of a pain 'cause there's really no good way to carry one. I started out using a leg holster for my pistol, 'cause that what they gave me, but I was constantly hitching it up and it always felt like it was pulling my pants down... which also isn't as cool as it sounds. 

Then I got my hands on a shoulder holster, like the detectives in Castle wear (love that show!), but by the end of the day it felt heavy on my shoulders and got a little sweaty, so I decided I sorta hated that too. 

Now I'm wearing a belt holster, which I picked up at the bazaar for $5. I don't love it, but it's my favorite so far because it's the least instrusive and lightest feeling of the three. The only tricky thing is that it doesn't clip on to my belt - I have to thread my belt through a loop and that makes for some awkward belt-related moments from time to time. As far as I can tell, just tucking it into my waistband would be frowned upon.

Happily, there is no magazine in my pistol 99% of the time. I only put a clip in when I leave camp (i.e. when I walk over to Camp Eggers on Fridays for Steak Night), and then it comes right out when I get through the security gate. Except when it didn't.

The Belt Holster

On my first trip to Eggers, I went to the clearing barrel to unload the pistol and for the life of me I couldn't remember how to remove the mag. Naturally, there were 3 or four people watching me fumble around, which didn't help. I eventually found the button and successfully unloaded the pistol. Thankfully it was dark and probably nobody could see my red cheeks. 

A few days later, feeling jaunty and comfortable, I pressed the eject button a little too soon and dropped the magazine on the ground. Oops! Unbeknownst to me, it scooped up some sand when I retrieved it from the ground and later that day I noticed my pistol made a gritty, scratchy sound when I racked it back to clear it. So... that night in my room I decided I'd better clean the darn thin. You guessed it, I could not remember how to take it apart. Thanks to Mr Google, I figured it out and it's all clean.

Whew!

I'm pretty sure I've figured it out now. I can load, unload, clear and clean the thing. I've got a holster that's mostly comfortable. I don't think I'll ever get used to carrying it, and thankfully the only scenarios where I would have to actually fire the thing are exceedingly rare. But for now, it's just one more part of life at Kabul.

That Thing You Do

By now, some of you are probably thinking "Dan, all these stories about the DFAC and the gravel and the showers are interesting enough, but what is it you actually do in Kabul?"

That's a good question, and if I've been slow to answer it's only because it took me a while to figure it out myself. The first week or so, I spent a lot of time just learning my way around camp, attending orientation briefings and meeting people. But now I'm getting a handle on the actual job.

ISAF HQ

Officially, I'm the Chief of the ISAF Joint Visitor Bureau (JVB), or as I like to call it, the ISAF Escort Service. When NATO VIP's (heads of state, defense ministers, generals & admirals, etc) want to come in to the country, they send their visit requests to me. I take a look to make sure the size, scope and duration is within certain limits, then I brief it at a decision-making meeting. If the trip is approved, we help arrange security, transportation and billeting, and of course we escort people in, out and through the compound (thus the Escort Service title). It's sort of like being a wedding planner, except with helicopters.

I've got a great team of international escorts officers working under me. They're all dedicated, smart, friendly, funny and hard working - and none of them have protocol backgrounds. We've got a pilot, an aircraft maintenance officer, a comms officer and an artilleryman. They're from Croatia, Romania, Canada and the Czech Republic. We've even got a US Navy guy, which is a whole other kind of foreign. And then there's me - the AF engineer. 

Together, we make sure people can safely get where they need to be, talk with the people they need to talk with, and do the things they need to do. We even do the "ground guide" gig whenever our visitors come onto our compound in a vehicle (i.e. walk in front of the car and lead them from the gate to the meeting location). Sometimes we travel with the visitors to different locations, although I haven't done that yet. I also make sure the receiving location is able to support the visitors and that we're not sending a dozen Prime Ministers to the same FOB (Forward Operating Base) on the same day. That's a pretty important thing to be sure of.

And as the Chief, a lot of my job involves helping take care of my guys - making sure they've got the stuff they need in order to do the job, keeping an eye on how they're holding up, etc. Although the truth is, so far they've been helping me a lot more than I've been able to help them. As I learn more about the job I'm sure that'll change.

This protocol gig is worlds away from my science & technology background, and I'm discovering it's a different kind of hard work than I'm used to. There's a lot to keep track of, a lot of people to coordinate with and a lot of information to monitor and share. I spend a fair amount of time generating, updating and delivering briefings on who is coming when & where. You'd think that wouldn't be hard, except for when people arrive without telling anyone... or show up even though their trip was disapproved... or change the date / location / both without telling anyone. I mean seriously, who just shows up in a war zone, without coordination, expecting to be taken care of?

Anyway, at first glance (and even at second glance), it may seem a little bit stupid to put me in this job. After all, the AF paid for me to get 3 engineering degrees, and now here I am in Kabul working as a highly paid escort. Doesn't quite seem like a very efficient use of a technical dude like myself. However, I remind myself that a) it's only for a few months and b) it's a good exposure to NATO operations. Of course, I bet there's a job or two out here which would provide NATO experience AND use my technical skills, but they probably gave that job to a protocol guy already.

But regardless of whether this is really the best fit for me, it's where I am for now so I'll aim to do it and enjoy it as best I can. Who knows, I might even learn something in the process.

Rare Air

The city of Kabul is surrounded by mountains, which is a handy way of preventing any local air pollution from leaving the immediate vicinity and degrading the air quality of the rest of the country. Sort of like one of those glassed-off smoking rooms I've seen at airports. It's quite a thoughtful touch, don't you think? The only bummer is I'm on the wrong side of that glass.

Western Mts

Yes, the air around here tends to be, let's say, a little on the gritty side. Actually, a lot on the gritty side. Almost chewy. When I'm feeling generous, I'd say it's "richly textured." I'm definitely getting my money's worth out of my built-in organic air filtration system (aka my nose), which is working overtime... but I guess we're all working overtime around here, aren't we?

On a serious note for a moment, the air quality in Kabul is just about the worst in the world. Air pollution is apparently one of the major causes of natural death in the city. Between the dust and dirt and sand, plus the fine particulates from all the various combustion events (cars, cook fires, generators, etc), those mountains I mentioned before tend to be pretty well obscured. As in, I had no idea they were there for the first few days I was in country.

And then one night it rained.

Southern Mts

I awoke to a gorgeous blue sky and made a startling discovery about how close the mountains really are. I can't believe that most days, they're almost completely invisible. The mountains were gorgeous snowcapped peaks to the west and reminded me of Colorado Springs. To the south, they're rugged and brown and reminescent of Albuquerque. Mountains to the north and east are a bit further away but similar to the southern view.

An interesting side note: that morning as my roomie was taking pictures of the mountains, we discovered that we both went to high school in Colorado Springs.

That's funny because we've had parallel AF careers and in almost every assignment, we've just barely missed meeting each other. We know a lot of the same people, had some of the same bosses, but never met until we went to CAST. To find out that our series of near-misses began in high school sort of blew my mind. And did I mention he went to college in Rochester NY? And that his first assignment was to Kirtland AFB, in Albuquerque... just like me? Yeah, that's apparently been going on our whole lives.

S/E (I think)

Anyway, he took these pictures. It's too bad the scenery isn't like this all the time. Most days, you'd never know the mountains are there at all.