It's my Birthday!

Big deal.

Today I went to the Ministry of Defense to get the semi-monthly budget numbers, went to the Logistics and Material Readiness offices to discuss fuel consumption data, then back to my office to work on logistics measures of effectiveness for the Afghan National Army.

After work I went to the gym and did the Crossfit workout of the day: five sets of 500m rowing, 50 squats, and 30 back extensions in 44:45 minutes.

As I write this, I'm about to go outside for the nightly cigar smoking/lie telling at the camp fire we installed in the safe house yard.

Woo hoo.

Edit: A few days after I wrote this, I was informed that it sounded a little bitter. In retrospect, I was kinda feeling sorry for myself that day because I was missing my family. I was here during Christmas and my birthday, which are tragically close together to begin with (five days apart). But I actually did have a good birthday. My wife called me and sang Happy Birthday. I'm lucky that I live in a house off installation that has a non-secure internet connection. Julie can call me via internet phone service Skype and it's a local call--the active duty personnel on installation can't download it on government computers. I also received boxes of goodies from Julie & my parents, including a remote controlled Air Hog helicopter which I've been using to terrorize my office mates!

Entry for December 21, 2007

Went to a USO show yesterday. Miss USA, Lewis Black, Lance Armstrong, Robin Williams, and Kid Rock. It was snowing hard, but we found a spot under cover. It was behind some flagpoles so my pictures aren't great, but it was fun. I laughed so hard at Robin Williams that I almost fell off the ledge I was standing on. Sure, it was marble and covered with snow, but that's besides the point...

Christmas Dance

Click here for a Merry Christmas dance, from my family to yours.

I was going to title this entry “Barbarians” but then decided that the term “Barbarians” seems too complimentary.

Afghanistan is a very rough country. Both the environment and the people. Rugged mountains, arid country, open plains chock full of robbers and killers. Tough men who seldom bathe, and have never seen a flush toilet or the inside of a doctor’s office. Men who think it’s effeminate to wear eyeglasses or yield to oncoming traffic. Children forced by their parents to beg and/or sell worthless trinkets in the streets. A place where men & women cannot be seen together if they are not related or they may be killed. I think I wrote earlier about when the Taliban caught a fifteen-year old boy with American currency so they hung him for being a spy. Something I didn’t see reported in the western media is a report about two children of a government official who woke one morning to find a toy truck sitting outside their house. The toy was rigged with explosives and killed the two young boys. I have a video clip of Taliban fighters cutting off the heads of about ten men that I only watched once because it gave me nightmares. They sawed through the necks with a knife like they would slaughter a goat.

All that being said, I still think the Afghans are good people. Most Afghans are just like you & me: they just want to have a happy, comfortable life and to provide for their families. Most of them aren’t avid Muslims. Like most of the Catholics I know, they don’t go to their services regularly or pray every day. However, in the last few days I’ve started to be bothered by a few things. Taken individually, each might be sloughed off. But I’ve been back from vacation less than a week and…well, you decide.

1. On the way from the airport to my safe house, we passed a sheep being slaughtered. Now I’ve seen animals slaughtered before, and it’s a way of life. But this one was different. It was on the side of the road and the two men at work were bleeding the sheep. They had cut its throat, and were holding it down while it kicked and slowly bled to death, its blood draining into the gutter.

2. We’re working with the Afghans to help them humanely resolve an issue, but they’re resisting us on this one. Recently there was an Afghan Army officer who lost his pistol. In reality, he probably sold it on the black market and it’s now in the hands of Al Qaeda or the Taliban, but we’ll never know. The officer was killed in combat shortly after reporting his pistol was missing. Now the Army is trying to collect the price of the pistol from the dead soldier's widow.

3. I attend a weekly logistics meeting, along with several other mentors, at the Ministry of Defense. One of the things we’re trying to teach and institutionalize is the contracting, budgeting, and acquisition process. At this meeting, the topic came up about a rice vendor who wasn’t delivering rice in accordance with the contract. The commanding officer of Logistics Command, General B, heatedly recommended hanging the rice vendor by one leg in a conex box until he delivered. At first I assumed he was joking, but the other senior Army officers at the meeting, including the Assistant Minister of Defense, seemed to consider his proposal. We finally convinced them that General B’s suggestion was not within standard government contracting procedures and guidelines.

I think we’re making great progress modernizing the Islamic Republic of Afghanistan, but they still have a long way to go.

Out.

Just got back from vacation in Dallas. Like last time, I ate too much and drank too much, enjoying the cleanliness, safety, and abundance of a civilized society.

Pics are here. They start with some guys at my house after a trip to the gun range to shoot my M4gery. Then my Mom’s birthday, when Julie & I took her to Maggiano’s. A few pics from dinner at Daron & Leah’s house, mostly pics of her delicious homemade pecan pie. Lastly, pics from a party at my cousin Monica’s bar Canuck’s in Lewisville (and Shane’s car made it home that night!).

I also took Julie to the gun range to shoot my Taurus 9mm and Ruger.38 revolver. Had Thanksgiving dinner with my family, and showed my 5-year old nephew Brendan how to stuff a whole piece of pie in his mouth. Julie & I had a great evening one night grilling steaks and drinking wine. Went to the Luther’s one night and drank way too much. Went to the hospital to see Diane’s mom Alice who is making a miraculous recovery from a stroke. Took Digger to Petsmart and put him on the scale to learn he is now 81.6 pounds. Did a few chores around the house but didn’t get to everything on Julie’s list.

When my final flight from Dubai to Kabul arrived, I called the office for a ride. Dave Bremer came to get me, but was delayed because of a suicide bombing on the road to the airport. Yep, I’m back.

Just when you think you've seen it all...

I was leaving Camp Phoenix today and I saw some kids chasing a monkey. Yes, a monkey. I walked over to try and get a pic, only got one very poor pic of the monkey on a fence because it was too fast. I told the kids I'd give $1 to whichever one brought the monkey to me. They all took off after it and I never saw the monkey again.

Also added a few pics to the photobucket of tanks at 201st Corps in Pol-E-Charki, and our Halloween party.


Out.

I get to see some interesting things here. Things that the average American will never see.

Today on the way back from the gym I saw a tough-looking Army soldier in full battle gear (body armor, helmet, 9mm Beretta on a low thigh holster, M4 carbine slung across his back, etc.) walking very purposefully. Nothing too extraordinary--I see those young American heroes all the time. Only this gunslinger was cradling a case of Somoas like a newborn baby. Had a look on his face like he'd slice your throat if you messed with his cookies.

God bless America and God bless the Girl Scouts!

Cookies!

Yesterday we got an email to send someone for Girl Scout cookies. I didn't think much of it. Actually I thought there was a sale and I missed it. Rats. But I was wrong. Apparently they were donated. I don't yet know who or why, but we have cookies. Some sailors went down to get cookies and came back with armfuls. We have cases of Tagalongs stacked from floor to ceiling here in our office. There goes my diet...

God bless America!

Recently a 70-year old vet and business owner, James Walton, in Dallas shot and killed a burglar entering his residence—for the second time—and after forty-two calls to the police. Rebecca Aguilar, a reporter for KDFW, ambushed Mr. Walton in an Academy Sporting Goods parking lot and aggressively grilled him, asking him if he was trigger happy and if he wanted to kill. Poor old Mr. Walton was visibly shaken and broke down in tears. http://www.myfoxdfw.com/myfox/pages/Home/Detail?contentId=4640488&version=3&l...

I frequently lurk and sometimes post on a website for gun owners, http://ar15.com/, where I first learned of this story. Members there were outraged and started an operation to express their feelings by writing and calling Ms. Aguilar, KDFW, and Fox News. I also, eloquently and succinctly, expressed my views to the aforementioned entities. Today, Ms. Aguilar was suspended due to the public outrage to which I contributed. http://blogs.dallasobserver.com/unfairpark/2007/10/kdfw_suspends_rebecca_agui...

I think next time I’m in Dallas I might go visit a good friend and gun shop owner, pick up a Winchester Defender and a box of buckshot, wrap it with a big red bow, and deliver it to Mr. Walton as a gift.

God bless America!

Out.

I can hear Mom now: "You're not leaving the house dressed like that!"
Would-be suicide bomber, kin killed in Afghanistan

Boston Globe Tue, 16 Oct 2007 2:46 AM PDT

KABUL, Afghanistan - A mother who tried to stop her son from carrying out a suicide bomb attack triggered an explosion in the family's home in southern Afghanistan that killed the would-be bomber, his mother, and three siblings, police said yesterday.

I am happily married to a beautiful, sexy woman. Julie is the love of my life.

We first met in the seventh grade when her family moved to Texas. I’ve had a crush on her ever since, despite the initial rejection over 30 years ago.

Back in the seventh grade I would try to walk her home, even though it was at least one mile out of my way. (I never told her that, I always said I was going to my grandparent’s house near her neighborhood.) About halfway between St. Monica School and her house was a little convenience store called H&H. All the kids who walked that route usually stopped there for Dr Pepper, those nasty tubes of colored sugar we all used to love, and other crap that kids ate in the 70s.

One time I got her alone, away from the other kids. She was sitting on H&H’s front window ledge. I sat down next to her and cautiously asked her if she would “go with me”. Honestly, I didn’t really know what that meant, but some of my friends were “going with” girls, so I assumed it was important.

She said, “I can’t.” Now I was prepared for laughter, NO!, maybe even an OK. But “I can’t” left me dumbfounded. I staggered away, my ego devastated.

She claims to this day that she doesn’t remember the event, but it is etched in my memory forever. It took me another twenty-five years to work up the courage to ask her again.

This time she said yes and we’ve been happily married ever since.

Some things are worth waiting for.

Out.

Let's show the Marines in Iraq that America supports them!

US Marine Colonel Simcock, the commander of USMC Regimental Combat Team (RCT) 6 in Iraq, is asking for 6,000 positive emails to his Marines. That's one email for each Marine in his RCT command. COL Simcock is concerned about the effect of the negative barrage that those Marines are getting through the electronic media. So far, they've only mustered 2,000 emails. That's a crying shame compared to the amount of crap I get daily in email. This is a legitimate request. It's not one of the “little Johnny wants to break the world's record in Christmas cards” situations. It takes only 30 seconds of your time. Here's the email address:

RCT-6lettersfromh@gcemnf-wiraq.usmc.mil

If you're reading this email, then you can probably click on the address, type a few words, and then hit 'send' to be all done. It doesn't have to be the Gettysburg Address. Something as simple as "Hello, Marine. We thank you for what you're doing. You are in a noble task. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Best wishes & get home soon." is more than sufficient.

An excerpt from an interview with the Colonel:

GRIM: Is there anything that you and your Marines need that we could send you?
COL SIMCOCK: (Chuckles.) I'll tell you what, the one thing that all Marines want to know about—and that includes me and everyone within Regimental Combat Team 6—we want to know that the American public is behind us. We believe that the actions that we're taking over here are very, very important to America. We're fighting a group of people that, if they could, would take away the freedoms that America enjoys. If anyone—you know, just sit down, jot us—throw us an e-mail, write us a letter, let us know that the American public is behind us. Because we watch the news just like everyone else. It's broadcast over here in our chow halls and the weight rooms, and we watch that stuff, and we're a little bit concerned sometimes that America really doesn't know what's going on over here, and we get sometimes concerns that the American public isn't behind us and doesn't see the importance of what's going on. So that's something I think that all Marines, soldiers and sailors would like to hear from back home, that in fact, yes, they think what we're doing over here is important and they are in fact behind us.

I just got a care package from the Prestoncrest Church of Christ in Dallas, Texas. I don't know how they got my name and address, but it was a very pleasant surprise.

God bless America!

Children learn the art of rug making by practicing on small novelty rugs. This one was made by children in Mazar-e Sharif, Afghanistan. I paid $20.

This afternoon we met with General Shah Aga to discuss some budget issues. After the meeting, he offered to take us to see some sights, as a sort of going away gift for Vic.

First we went to the tomb of Mohammed Zahir Shah, the last Shah of Afghanistan. The tomb is undergoing renovation, and you can still see rocket holes in the ceiling. Hard to tell who shot the rockets, since that part of Kabul was fought on by the Soviets, Dostum, Massoud, and the Taliban. Zahir Shah is considered the “Father of Afghanistan” and only recently died in July 2007.

Then we went to Bala Haizar. You can see all of Kabul and all the way to Logar Province. The ruins of the ancient British fort are still visible, as are rusting hulks of Russian tanks and armored personnel carriers.

Out.

I got some great pictures today.

As part of my in-brief, we visited the ANA Central Work Shop (CWS). The commander of CWS is General Jawid. CWS is supposed to be the ANA central vehicle maintenance facility. Our tour guide was Captain Allen Kelly, USAF. The site where CWS now sits was originally an ordnance depot built by the occupying British in the mid 1800s. The US is rebuilding and renovating the compound. Many of the original buildings are being refaced and fitted with electricity, plumbing, etc. Most of the buildings need the floors raised because the original dirt floors are lower than the outside ground, causing water to settle inside during rains and the winter.

It was a clear day so I got some good pics of the mountains surrounding Kabul, very close to CWS.

Having been shelled by the Soviets, Taliban, and US, during excavation the workers have to be extremely careful about turning up old ordnance and/or unexploded munitions. This morning, for example, the workers found a cannonball, probably over 100 years old. They have to leave it in place until Explosive Ordnance Disposal (EOD) teams can inspect and dispose of it because it could still contain explosive materials.

As part of the clean up, contractors removed truckloads of debris. Some of it had not been moved for years. In one old warehouse, they found some antique brass British cannons. Some of the cannon had regimental crests still on them. Captain Kelly did some research and was able to identify the regiment as that of Field Marshal Lord Frederick Sleigh Roberts. Lord Roberts was one of the most successful British commanders in Afghanistan, having defeated the Muhammad Yakub Khan, the Afghan emir, and later became Commander-in-Chief of the British Army.

On the way back to Eggers we passed through downtown Kabul. I got some great street scene pics from our vehicle. This new camera is fantastic.

After lunch, thank Allah, we visited the slaughter house. Like the sewing factory, operating a slaughter house isn’t usually considered a military core competency, but it works for the Afghans. First we had chai with the commander, General Zaref. General Zaref is a friendly old warrior with a comb-over and the longest, bushiest eyebrows I’ve ever seen. The slaughter house purchases cows, goats and sheep daily. They butcher the animals and transport the meat to military units in and around Kabul. Because there is no refrigeration or refrigerated trucks, the slaughter house operates every day. We’re working on modernizing their facilities, but these things take time. Specifically, the Czech Republic has agreed to modernize the slaughter house. At one time the Iranians promised to help, but all they did was paint some broken refrigeration units and put a big sign over the entrance boasting about their assistance to the people of Afghanistan. I put the slaughter house pics in a separate photobucket album so the weak-stomached can avoid them if desired.

Out.

It's Friday, day two of the Muslim weekend. Typically I go to Camp Phoenix with a group of guys. I usually hit the gym and maybe play some racquetball, then head over to the PX for some shopping and a smoothie. Then we hang out at the picnic tables outside the PX and tell lies and smoke cigars for an hour or two before heading back to the safe houses. A couple of guys take golf clubs because there's an open area where they can practice their drives.

This morning, as we were congregating in the safe house yard to get in the vans to go to Phoenix, we heard a loud explosion. It sounded like it came from the general vicinity of the airport. I went up onto the roof of the White House to see if I could spot anything. Nothing. Meanwhile, Wayne called BDOC to check on the road conditions. BDOC didn't know yet and said to call back later. A while later we called again and the road to Phoenix was Amber (movement OK). The road to the airport was Black (no movement allowed). I later heard that a suicide bomber exploded at the entrance to the airport--the same entrance I went through with Minister Jawhari's convoy just a few days ago. Two Afghan police officers were killed.

I didn't have a smoothie today, I had a white mocha frappe instead. It was delicious.

Out.

VBIED: 31 Aug, Kabul Province, Kabul District, Kabul City, District 10, Kabul International Airport – At 07:33 a VBIED targeted a two vehicle ISAF patrol near the entrance to Camp Kaia (Kabul Airport). The bomber reportedly detonated the device prematurely. There were ANA soldiers and civilian bystanders in the area at the time of the detonation. Two ANA soldiers were reportedly killed and approximately eight civilian bystanders were injured.

Today, my soon-to-be predecessor Vic Solero and I went to GS/G4 to discuss some budget issues with Gen Shah Aga but he wasn’t in. Only about half the officers we usually see there were in today. It’s Thursday, the start of the Muslim weekend, so many of them managed to be somewhere else for the half day…

So Vic took me to see the sewing factory. The ANA has many of their uniforms, flags, accouterments, etc., manufactured at their own sewing factory. Not usually a military function, western armies like the US contract out the manufacture of those items. However, this factory is self-sufficient; the items they make and sell pays for the factory’s cost. Of greater importance, however, is the labor force. Almost all of the workers are women, and almost all of them are military widows. The factory also has a nursery, which is extremely forward-thinking for this country. So those of you who may read this (Mom, Julie, Kim), the nursery needs clothes, school materials, toys, etc., for ages 3 months to 5 years…

I took as many pictures as I could, but that stupid old camera just wouldn’t cooperate. There are some in the photobucket, after the LogCmd pics. I broke down and bought a new camera today. Not very expensive, but it has 8 megapixels and optical zoom. Damn thing didn’t come with a memory card though so it looks like I have to hit the bazaar tomorrow.

By the way Mom, one of the pictures that didn’t turn out was some little old Afghan ladies embroidering flags. They were using antique sewing machines that would probably cost a small fortune in the US, they were so old.

Out.

Yesterday was the ribbon cutting for the new Mechanics School at the Afghan National army (ANA) Logistics Command (LogCmd), Central Movement Agency. I first went to the office of the Deputy Minister of Defense, Acquisition, Technology, and Logistics, Minister Jawhari. General Shah Aga was there with some members of his staff. After meeting Minister Jawhari and some small talk, we left for LogCmd. Our vehicle was in the Minister’s convoy with security at the front & back. We took a route through the airport. After exiting the airport gate, I noticed several soldiers standing guard along the highway—more security for our convoy. We entered LogCmd and The Minister and staff were immediately whisked into a maintenance bay set up for an opening ceremony.

The event was started by a Muslim prayer by a Mullah, then several people spoke, including the Minister. We were, as usual, served chai (a weak green tea), dried corn, almonds, and raisins. After the opening ceremony, we were escorted around to see the various classrooms, maintenance areas, etc. Then we went into the Officer’s dining facility.

I wasn’t expecting lunch, but it was a pleasant surprise. The meal was served family-style, with heaping platters of food. Each place setting had a soda (mine was an orange soda from Pakistan), a bottle of water, and some soupy, strong yogurt in a bowl. First we were served soup. It had some leafy vegetables in it along with some other ingredients I didn’t recognize, and strong pepper seasoning. I was unsure of the etiquette in a dinner of Afghans (all male) but I quickly learned that there was no etiquette. Everybody reached for whatever they wanted. There was an Afghan staple of fried rice with raisins and naan which is a round flatbread, beef kabobs, spicy goat meat, fruit, and melon. Surprisingly, I didn’t get sick afterwards.

On the way out of the dining facility, I saw a senior Enlisted ANA soldier who was in my last supply class at Central Supply Depot. I said “Chotorasti?” (How are you?) to him and shook his hand. He beamed. I figured out later that I must have made his day. Here was an important American military advisor, traveling with the Deputy Minister of Defense, who acknowledged him. Cool.

I added some pictures to photobucket, but my camera is dying and half of them didn’t come out. Stupid camera.

Out.

Spent my second full day at my new job today. I still work for MPRI, Logistics Directorate, Combined Security Transition Command-Afghanistan (CSTC-A), but instead of being the Logistics Training Director for Central Supply Depot, I an the senior mentor to General Shah Aga, Director of Logistics and Materiel Readiness for the Afghan National Army. Yesterday I met Gen Shah Aga in his office at G-4. Today I attended a meeting at the Ministry of Defense with the general and his staff. Gen Shah Aga is a likable, heavy-set, forward-thinking old warrior who fled to Pakistan with his family during the Taliban rule and returned to help his country grow and prosper.

Most of the high ranking Afghan officers have mentors/trainers, many of whom are MPRI personnel. The coalition (and specifically the US) is pouring millions of dollars of support, equipment, weapons, etc., into this country and we're trying to help the government learn to control and allocate their army like the US. The only system they know is the old Soviet system which never was very good anyway.

On another note, my previous boss, Dana Call, just got back from vacation. He lives in South Dakota and happened to be home at the same time my dad rode to Sturgis, SD, for the annual Harley rally. Dad stayed at Dana's house for a few days. When Dana returned, he brought a digital camera for his driver, Sheron. Yesterday Sheron brought his camera to me and asked me to download the pics he took over the weekend. I posted them here. I thought it was interesting what a true Afghan took pics of on his day off.

Out.

Went to Bagram today. It is about a 1.5 hour drive from Kabul, through some desolate areas with numerous scattered villages and police checkpoints. I saw the usual assortment of nomads, goats, donkeys, camels, and insane drivers. The road itself is pockmarked with potholes and, oddly enough, broken down vehicles seldom move off to the shoulder.

Nothing much too exciting to report. I posted a few pics, but I think my little Sony 2.0 megapixels Cybershot camera has about had it. I'm thinking about investing in a real camera...

Out.

Did I mention the bombing on my first day back to work? I was sitting in my office discussing my vacation with Dana & Jim, between 0800 and 0900, when we heard a loud explosion and the conex rattled. Soon we started getting sitreps. Apparently there was a military convoy turning into Camp Phoenix about one mile away and a vehicle-borne improvised explosive device (VBIED), otherwise known as a car bomb, turned in with them and detonated. Four military personnel and four Afghan nationals were injured—no fatalities except the bomber. Yep, that never happened in Dallas…

Finally, some much appreciated time off. I spent 18 glorious days home in Dallas, Texas, USA.

I left Kabul on July 9. Sheron drove me to the airport, and being the seasoned Afghanistan traveler that I now am, I took only a carry-on and made it through the airport to the plane without paying any tips/bribes. In the waiting area, I met a Norwegian Air Force officer going home on emergency leave, and a DynCorp employee going on leave to China to see the Great Wall. Got to the airport in Dubai, had some time to kill so I took a taxi to the Emirates Mall, ate some Lebanese food, and watched Transformers. Flew into Heathrow Airport in London and have to catch the connecting flight at Gatwick Airport. London is lush and green this time of year. I didn’t see much interesting on the bus between airports—I could have been in Virginia, except everyone was driving on the wrong side of the road. At Gatwick, two young security officers took great pleasure in making a scene over a single male traveling without luggage from Afghanistan. As they were inspecting my carry-on, I had an almost overwhelming desire to yell “BOOM” but I was able to restrain myself. Julie picked me up at DFW and I was immediately struck by how green Dallas is (everything is brown in Afghanistan, and I mean everything). I was also initially a little nervous about all the vegetation and likely insurgent hiding places. But once I arrived home and enjoyed many cold beverages on my patio with my wife, I started to settle back in to the decadent infidel way of life.

Julie won a weekend out by being the top producer at PrimeLending, so the first Friday we checked into the W, an upscale hotel downtown. We had a very expensive and delicious dinner at the top-rated restaurant Nine. Back to the hotel and the trendy Ghost Bar upstairs, which features a glass-floored balcony where you can look down and see tiny little people walking down the streets on downtown Dallas. Click here for pics.

Saturday is kind of a blur. We went to Shane & Sam’s house for a birthday party. Lots of children, and lots of Shiner Boch. Adults and children all piled into their awesome pool and while the kids played, those of us without kids drank and swam and told stories until it was time to go to my parents’ house. Mom wanted to have a little welcome home party for me. Barbeque and more Shiner. My brother’s friend unwisely presented me with a gift of Patrón, which quickly escalated our insobriety. Shane showed up also and helped me appreciate the fine Tequila. Then Julie, Shane & I went to our friends Dave & Diane’s house. Don’t remember much after that. Slept in on Sunday and went to Mom’s for lunch. Danny made a traditional Czech meal called Kapusta which is a cabbage & potato stew. Not exactly what you’d normally serve on a hot July day in Texas, but this was a special occasion. Shane came over to retrieve his car. Click here for pics.

On Wednesday, I went to my regular monthly Marine poker game. They rescheduled the game during my vacation time. It’s a group of former active duty Marines who have been playing poker on the first Wednesday of every month for years; I’ve been a regular member for about three years now. I won $23.

The next weekend we went to Galveston. Sort of a semi-annual event, the Luther family and ours rent a beach house one weekend in the summer and have a blast. Normally we drink too much; sing & dance; tell lies; and eat like starving dogs. This year was no exception. David did most of the cooking: steaks and garlic mashed potatoes, shrimp and Tilapia, huge cholesterol-laden breakfasts. We absorbed cases of beer and rum & cokes. We terrorized the neighbors with plastic-pellet toy guns. We caught & released dozens of hermit crabs. Daniel Boone’s “Beautiful Sunday” was the unofficial theme song. Mike, DJ, Jeni, and Katie made an eerily realistic sand-woman with piercing lifelike eyes. Julie & I stumbled across it at night and it scared the bejeezus out of us. Julie and I stayed one day longer after the Luthers & the kids all left, and we explored Galveston and had some delicious seafood in the local restaurants. Click here for pics.

We had a new fence built while I was home, a stained cedar 8’ board-on-board privacy fence with bottom board and cap. Northlake Fence & Deck bent over backwards to ensure it was finished before I left again for Afghanistan.

The last night home, Julie had a little party for me. The Luthers, Mike and his friends, and Shane came to the house and sampled many fine adult beverages and grilled burgers. The next day, as usual, Shane came over to get his car.

Overall, Julie & I had a great vacation. I got to spend time with my wife, family & friends; rode my Harley and drove my Mustang; played with the dogs & cats; purchased two new rifles; ate Mexican food and McDonald’s. I also enjoyed a few other things that most Americans take for granted: I went outside without body armor; I drank water from the tap; I drove down the street without looking for suspected bombers, and with my windows down; I didn’t see one single AK-47 assault rifle; my car wasn’t searched once; I went to the grocery store; I watched TV in English; I slept through the night without being awakened by low-flying helicopters or the early-morning Azan (Mullah’s call-to-prayer five times daily); I kissed my wife in public and held her hand.

God bless America.

Out.

Going home on leave in a couple weeks, don't want to forget what little Dari I've learned, so here are my notes:

Dokhtar – girl

Zan – woman

Bacha – boy

Karachi – cart

Khar – donkey

Sag – dog

Gurg – wolf

Peshak – cat

Asp – horse

Gow – cow

Shadi – monkey

Gosfand – sheep

Buz – goat

Boro – go

Baba – grandfather

Stad – stop

Tayara – airplane

Man dostat daram – I love you

Man ham dostat daram – I love you too

Tashakor – thank you

Chotorasti – How are you?

Khobastam – I am fine.

Khobasti – You are fine?

Sobbakhair – Good morning

Chastbakhair – Good afternoon

Shabbakhair – Good night

Shambakhair – Good evening

Ba omid dee dar – See you tomorrow

Khaira – no problem

Salam – Hello (informal)

Salamalaikom – Hello (formal)

Allah akbair – God is great

Inshallah – God willing

Bali – Yes

Ne – no

Ah, another fun-filled day in Afghanistan.

Jim Foster recently joined us, taking over Dorothy's position as Material Accounting Manager. Dorothy was moved to the Ministry of Interior (MOI) to manage five employees in Kandahar. Kind of a demotion, but that's another story...

Jim Foster is a likable old guy, former Air Force, sort of a dottering grandfather type, and looks a little like Droopy Dog.

Part of his in-processing and acclimation to working with the Material Control Team (MCT) at D-1 is to visit the vehicle area at D-2 in Pol-E-Charki. Dana wanted to take him out there and meet with the manager, Mark Orthman. Troy and I went along for the ride.

D-2 is further down Jalalabad Road, towards Pakistan. Incoming vehicles are staged there for issue to the ANA. Mostly US-made military vehicles, there are also a variety of vehicles from other countries, including some old Russian trucks left over from the Soviet occupation.

After Jim's tour of D-2, on the way back to D-1, we decide to stop at the ISAF base for lunch. After getting some Euros from the ATM machine, we went to an Italian restaurant. Dana & Jim had steaks (I saved the bones for the yard dogs at D-1) and Troy & I had pizzas. Dana also bought pizzas and sodas for our two Afghan drivers.

After that delicious treat, we headed back to D-1. The MPRI warehouse manager, Ramon Padilla (loud, opinionated Puerto Rican) was supposed to meet with LT Hogan (US Navy) about the weapons inventory and Dana wanted to be there to referee. However, just before we turned off Jalalabad Road to D-1, we got a call from BDOC that there was a suspected suicide bomber in the area. So instead of turning we went straight to our safe houses.

So now it's a little after 1:00 PM, I have a full belly (pizza and two cokes), I'm in my room in my shorts and t-shirt and the bed is calling my name.

Out.

Just got back from a short vacation in Dubai. MPRI encourages us to take leave and get out of Afghanistan every ninety days or so, and I intend to take advantage every time.

Tuesday, 4/17/2007

Worked until about noon, then Dana drove me to the Afghanistan airport in Kabul. Had to go through a security checkpoint before entering the airport where they frisked us & the driver, and inspected my luggage. Then, amazingly enough, we were passed through to Lot 1. There are three parking lots at the airport, numbered from closest to farthest, 1 to 3. Normally ordinary folks are only allowed into Lot 3, where they have to drop off or wait for passengers. Lot 3 is unpaved, unmarked, and surrounded by barriers and concertina wire. I carried my luggage into the airport and had to pay about $20 in tips (bribes) to get through ticketing and into the waiting area.

Funny thing about Ariana Afghan Airlines, we were seated by nationality and sex. Whenever possible, they try to seat the foreigners together and the women together.

I saw someone on the flight that I thought I recognized, but couldn’t quite place. Then I noticed he was with two guys carrying TV cameras with CNN tags. He was a reporter who’s name still escapes me, but I’ll figure it out and edit this later.

Noticed some scraping and wobbling noises during take-off that made me think there was a suspension problem with the landing gear, but we landed safely at Dubai International Airport so that’s someone else’s problem now.

Got to the hotel, the Arabian Courtyard Hotel & Spa, and unloaded. Had a few beers with some Spaniards from Pamplona at the hotel bar, a man and his Mom. I asked if he ever ran with the bulls and he sheepishly said yes. Then Mom told me that she would never allow him to because it was too dangerous, but one day she was looking in the newspaper and there he was, running from the bulls. Bad boy.

Then I went to pickup Julie from the airport. Her flight was three hours late so I got to hang out with Arabs, Indians, Pakistanis, and a myriad of other nationalities I can only guess at. Finally she arrived and we went to the hotel. At this point, the daily journal ends due to mature content…

Wednesday, 04/18/2007

We treated ourselves to 80-minute massages in the hotel spa, and walked across the street to the Dubai Museum. The museum is an old fort in the heart of old Dubai. They had displays of how Dubai used to be, mostly poor Arabs living in houses made of palm branches. Fish and dates were staples of their diets. The primary industry was pearls, before oil was discovered in the sixties. The museum was informative and entertaining.

We also found this neat little art gallery. Mostly paintings, all of the art was, of course, of the middle east.

That night we went to the Western Steakhouse at the Crowne Plaza Hotel. We had a nice bottle (two bottles, actually) of Merlot, escargots sautéed with butter & garlic, I had a juicy t-bone steak and Julie had a rib-eye and lobster tail. It was delicious. Then we hit the hotel bar and closed it down.

Thursday, 04/19/2007

Low-intensity day. Not only was Julie wiped out from the time change, but we were both nursing hangovers from last night’s activity. We mostly stayed in the room and enjoyed each other’s company. We did venture up to the hotel pool for a few adult beverages, but not any farther than that.

Friday, 04/20/2007

The plan was to go to the beach this day. We were up and getting dressed, I bent over to tie my shoe and got a terrible, stabbing pain in my back. I don’t have a history of back problems, but I must have twisted just the wrong way because it hurt like Hell. We had the Desert Safari and BBQ Dinner scheduled for that night, but moved it to Sunday and scheduled a dinner cruise instead. The hotel was very close to Dubai Creek, which is really a large inlet from the Arabian Gulf. We got on a boat called a Dhow, cruised up the creek, had a delicious dinner, and generally enjoyed the views of Dubai at night from the creek. It really is a beautiful and interesting city. At dinner, we were introduced to Omm’Ali, which is a traditional Egyptian Bread and Butter Pudding.

Saturday, 04/21/2007

Had the Dubai City Tour planned for this day. Luckily for us, because of the tour company’s timing/bookings, we got out our own van and tour guide. A lovely woman from Sri Lanka was our tour guide and a surly dark-skinned man from Eritrea was our driver. We saw most of the city while she pointed out sites like palaces and other attractions, including the Sheik’s palace. While we weren’t allowed to go into the Sheik’s palace grounds, the entrance is a tourist attraction. Beautiful landscaping and lots of peacocks. Part of the tour was stopping at a spice market and the gold souk. “Souk” means market. Gold is relatively inexpensive in UAE and sold by the weight. I dropped some serious cash on a ring for Julie.

Finally made it to the beach. We wanted to go to the Burj Al Arab Hotel, which is a landmark multi-million dollar hotel built on a man-made island in the Gulf, and shaped like a giant sail. Rooms there go for $2,000 to $7,000 per night. But non-guests need a reservation at the restaurant and specific attire to get in. So we settled for Jumeriah public beach instead. Nothing particularly noteworthy there, but I took a nap and got sunburned while Julie walked the beach. On the way back to the hotel we stopped at Harley-Davidson of UAE and got some t-shirts.

After the beach, we decided to see a movie. Now keep in mind that I am a pseudo-movie buff and for the last three months all I’ve seen is either grainy old re-runs on Afghan TV, or poorly focused pirated movie DVDs from the bazaar. So dammit I’m going to the movies. We went to the Emirates Mall which has an indoor ski slope, had a drink in a swank new age bar, did some window shopping and people watching, and saw 300. Not too complicated of a plot, but the visual effects were stunning.

Sunday, 04/22/2007

Today is the day we rescheduled the Desert Safari and BBQ Dinner. But it didn't start until later in the day so we had some time to walk around and do more sight-seeing. Then back to the hotel and I scheduled another massage for my aching back while Julie went to the pool. At least that's what I thought...but first she walked over to that art museum we found earlier and bought a very cool painting for me. It was a scene with a mosque that we could see from our hotel room window, only it was from the opposite viewpoint--from the creek.

Later our driver picked us up for the Desert Safari. It started out with “sand bashing” which was four-wheeling on the dunes. I really didn’t expect too much, but it was a blast! We were picked up in a Toyota Land Cruiser with a roll bar. We stopped to get another couple & their beautiful 5-year old daughter. They were from Italy and only Dad spoke English so he did all the translating. We drove out to the dunes and learned that our driver was the senior driver for the company and trained the other drivers. He took us up & over progressively bigger dunes and performed maneuvers that were breathtaking. At times I just knew he was going to kill us all but he made it look simple.

Then we stopped on a high dune next to some rock outcroppings and watched the sunset. The rocks were purple, and light. I’m guessing it was a sort of lava from an ancient volcano or something.

After the sunset, we drove to a site set up like an ancient Arab settling. There were some camels to ride, and Julie (International Woman of Mystery), rode hers like a pro. Then we went inside. There were different stations set up: first we had some fried dates, then found the bar and ordered some drinks (I didn’t expect that!), and Julie got a Henna tattoo on her hand. We then had some appetizers. I don’t know what it was exactly, it was like a goat meat and Hummus burrito, but it was good. Then we were seated on rugs & pillows at low tables for the buffet dinner. Rice, vegetables, Hummus, bread, lamb, chicken, beef, and more Omm’Ali. Then belly dancers came out to perform. They encouraged spectator participation, and the little Italian girl was adorable. Julie (International Woman of Mystery) also wowed the crowd with her undulating.

Monday, 04/23/2007

Julie’s day of departure. We walked down to the creek for some sight-seeing. Happened across another museum, this one was an old Sheik’s house that was restored and most of the museum was a collection of photographs. Browsed around the textile district and went back to the room to pack. Surprisingly, everything Julie brought, plus the stuff we bought, all fit in her suitcases! Went to the airport and, sadly, departed until my next leave. I’m planning to go home in July.

As I left the airport, I asked the taxi driver to take me to the mall with the most movies. Turns out that was the Chinese mall, way across town. The mall was interesting, all in oriental motif with a Chinese junk (boat) in the lobby. I saw The Reaping, which was better then I expected, and then went back to the hotel. The plan was for me to leave the day after Julie so I could see her off at the airport before I left, but I couldn’t get a flight for the 24th, so…

Tuesday, 04/24/2007

Slept in, had breakfast in the hotel, and went to the museum to look for a book about Dubai that Julie wanted. Then I went to the Centre City Mall in Deira. Did some window shopping, ate at a Lebanese restaurant in the food court, bought a watch, and found where the locals buy their clothes. There were several stores tucked away in a corner on the third floor. These we high end stores, men’s & women’s attire in separate stores. In the men’s stores they had those white robes, different colored and patterned headdresses, sandals, and accessories. In the women’s stores they had the black robes, black headdresses, veils, and accessories. Then I went to see Shooter. Incredible plot, but great action.

Monday, 04/25/2007

Up at 3:30 AM to get to the airport and through customs for my 6:30 AM flight back to Afghanistan. This would be a good point to explain that Dubai has two terminals. Most westerners only ever see Terminal 1, which is indicative of a world-class international airport. However, local flights (Iran, Iraq, Afghanistan, etc.) arrive/depart at Terminal 2. A little rougher, grungier, and smellier, Terminal 2 started to remind me where I was going back to. We departed on time and I sat next to an individual that smelled like feet.

Interesting arrival. I had a window seat on the port side, so I could see when they rolled the stairs up to the plane. Immediately, about twenty high ranking ANA officers lined up on either side, creating a greeting line. They were laughing and joking and had flowers and photographers. An Afghan in civilian clothes was escorted off the plane to hugs and handshakes. I asked my feet-smelling neighbor if he knew who that was, and he said something about a former commander ruining the country. I asked “Taliban?” and he said, “No, before Taliban.” I asked “Mujahideen?” and he answered yes. Now I’m not sure if his English was that bad or if he was sympathetic to the Taliban, but I thought Mujahideen were the good guys, or at least before many of them turned Taliban.

I also had a revelation. The vehicle that carried me back to Afghanistan wasn’t a Boeing 727; it was a time machine. The last four hours transported me from 2007 back centuries. I was back to the dirty, crowded airport where I had to pay a $5 bribe to a policeman and $3 to a self-appointed porter to get my luggage. I walked out of the terminal past bundles wrapped in burlap which many of the locals were using for luggage, past more security, through dozens of dirty, bearded men, across a dirt “parking lot” bordered by concertina wire. Everything was the color of dirt. Alex was there to meet me, and our driver, Jon, took my bag. We got to the van, donned our body armor, and drove through the dusty, clogged, unpaved streets to our safe house. At the house, I changed into my MPRI uniform and we went back up Jalalabad Road to Depot-1 in time for lunch. Did I really leave or was that a dream?

Pics are posted here.

Out.

Did I say something about “normal” and “routine” in yesterday’s entry? Did I actually use those words?

We had an earthquake today. This morning, at about 8:00 AM, the ground shook. Not just a quick rumble like when a bomb detonates. This was a long, drawn out, variable shake that lasted about 30 seconds. No report like an explosion has.

So not only is the Taliban trying to kill us from above ground, but now Mother Earth is trying to kill us from below ground. God I love it here.

Just re-read what I wrote. Interesting that I can describe the differences between an explosion and an earthquake. Yep, just another normal, routine day at the office.

Out.

It was a beautiful day in Pol-e-charki today. The sky was clear and the sun was bright. I was standing in the yard at D-1 this morning talking to my wife on the cell phone when an armored HMMWV pulled up and parked right next to where I was standing. There was a loaded .50 caliber machine gun mounted on the gun ring (sunroof), the belt of brass-jacketed ammo glinting in the sun. Just another average day in paradise.

But later I almost got arrested. Well not really arrested. We were driving home, as usual at break-neck speed, dodging huge potholes and barely missing bicycles, carts, donkeys, and jungle-trucks. Troy was in the front seat filming the road. In a previous entry I told you about filming the drive to send home. Ramon, another MPRI employee, asked Troy to film the ride for him so he could send a disk home too. Ramon is a very loud and very opinionated Puerto-Rican that would probably explode if he had to stop talking for more than 30 seconds. Ramon is always in a hurry. Always. Think of an overweight (sorry Ramon), middle-aged Speedy Gonzales.

Much like I did a couple days ago, Troy filmed most of the route between D-1 in Pol-e-charki and our safe house near Camp Eggers in Kabul, about a 30 minute ride. He, of course, didn’t narrate with the same entertaining and informative candor as I did, but it was sufficient. Along our route there are many places where photography is prohibited. Inside the gates of D-1, for example, the American Embassy, the Ministry of Defense, and other secure areas. Troy would always turn off the camera and put it down when passing through those areas. However, one of the last turns on our return trip passes directly by the entrance to one such place and Troy did not immediately put the camera down. He wasn’t filming the entrance to the complex and we pass by it almost everyday without incident, so it was an understandable mistake. Understandable to us. But the armed guards at this particular installation didn’t see it that way.

In the middle of the road, our vehicle was quickly surrounded by Afghan guards armed with AK-47 assault rifles yelling at us in Dari. To our driver’s credit, Sharon rose to the situation and with vigor explained to the guards who we are and what we were doing. I’m spelling Sharon’s name like the name of a girl in English only because I don’t know how to spell it. Sharon is a 40-something male with two wives and eight sons. His name sounds like Sharon only the emphasis is on the second syllable.

The yelling went on for a while as Troy nervously tried to show the guards exactly what he filmed. Soon an English-speaking Afghan approached and we were able to explain the situation to him. Troy handed over the disk but they still didn’t let us go. Then an American, I suppose, who I think was a Blackwater operative, took control of the situation. He said normally they’d confiscate the camera but for some reason he let us go and let Troy keep his camera. It was at about that time when my heartbeat began its descent back to normal and my sphincter began to relax.

Then back to routine. Changed and went to the gym. Did 60 minutes on the elliptical machine while watching a Cold Case re-run. I had dinner at The Goat, which is the larger of the two chow halls on Camp Eggers, and walked home to watch a pirated copy of Breach. I fell asleep half-way through.

Out.