Goodbye Afghanistan.

It's Sunday night, my last night here. I'm leaving tomorrow. Unless something remarkable happens on the trip home, this will be my last entry.

I can't even think of anything interesting to say, and I've had a lot of time to think about it. I considered writing about my opinion of the progress we've made here, but it would be only a narrow view of my small part in the big picture. Instead I'll just cut to the bottom line: twenty years. I think it will take another twenty years before we make a difference here.

I've done my part for the war on terror. Now, unlike the courageous men & women in the military, I can go home and not look back. Our soldiers, sailors, airmen, and Marines will likely be back--either here or Iraq. Hopefully I've been able to make a small contribution in the last twenty-two months with MPRI in Afghanistan.

I'm going home to a new job in Dallas; to my beautiful wife Julie; to my family and friends; and to the safety, comfort, convenience, and civility of a modern society.

Fair winds and following seas, my friends.

Out.

One of the team drivers, Abdul, and I have a running joke. I don't even remember how it started, but whenever one of us first sees the other we yell bachi-khar! Bachi-khar means "son of a donkey" and is a terrible insult. Our ongoing insult battle has evolved into exchanging made-up insults like bachi-shodi (son of a monkey), bachi-fil (son of an elephant), bachi-mahi (son of a fish), and others.

When I presented certificates last week, I made one special. Instead of "In grateful appreciation...blah, blah, blah..." on Adbul's certificate I wrote 'bachi-khar!" in the native language Dari, and included a picture of the donkey from "Shrek."

I win.

This morning my very first interpreter-translator (I've had four) Abdullah came by and presented me with a gift. Two Afghan outfits--one for me and one for Julie. If Julie and I ever immigrate to Afghansitan we'll be set for clothes, I think we each have three outfits now.

Disclaimer: I actually gave Abdul two certificates; a real one and this joke one. However, I think he treasures the joke certificate more.

Out.

The goodbyes have started.

Earlier this week my driver, Shirin, gave me an Afghan coat that his cousin sent from Mezar-e Sharif.

On Wednesday we had a little ceremony at the depot. My whole team was there, the US military, the ANA, and our translators and drivers. First I handed out certificates to all the translators and drivers, thanking them for their service during my tenure. Afghans love certificates. The translators presented to me a leather wallet made in Afghanistan, and the drivers gave me a rug with the likeness of Massoud. My team gave me a beautiful Afghanistan coffee table book and a cake. I gave a little speech thanking them and telling everyone how much I treasure my time here.

On Thursday the other MPRI logistics team had a little event for me. They raised an American flag, then lowered, folded it, and presented it to me along with a certificate. Then we went to the pizza restaurant and they had a little roast for me. Most of my team was there too, and they brought another cake. The logistics team gave me an Afghan flag embroidered with my name and time here.

On Monday morning, I'll have the traditional ceremony along with a handful of other guys leaving on Monday and be presented a plaque by the MPRI Program Manager.

I still have a little work to do, but for the most part I'll be checking out for the next few days--turning in my computer, phone, uniforms, etc.

It certainly was an adventure. Part of me will always be in Afghanistan.

Out.

God help us.

I've been thinking about how to best wind down this blog. Yep, I'm leaving. I arrived in Afghanistan on Jan 7, 2007 and I'll be leaving for good on Nov 10, 2008. Which, coincidentally, is the Marine Corps' birthday.

I was looking back at some of my first entries to try to find something to tie this all up and provide some closure. My very first entry is here. However, all I'm finding is that my first few weeks here seem like years ago. Actually it was only twenty-two months. I also looked at some of the first pics I took with my crappy little camera. I remember thinking how exciting, dangerous, and adventurous the whole thing seemed. I even optimistically started a separate folder for Afghanistan pics here, and now there are thousands of pics in my Photobucket.

Is it still exciting, dangerous, and adventurous? Somewhat. I feel the need to start out by once again explaining that I am not a soldier. There are thousands of true American heroes here, men & women of the US armed forces, who face real danger everyday. If they read this they'd probably laugh. I'm just a contractor, living and working in the relative safety of the Afghan capital Kabul. However, compared to my former occupation and to the casual reader browsing this from the comfort and safety of his home or office in places like Rapid City, South Dakota or Irrigon, Oregon this is a dangerous place.

Just last week, the Ministry of Interior was attacked. Within walking distance from where many of us work and live, most of us didn't give it a second thought. Taliban attacked the guards while one of them ran in and detonated his suicide bomb. Five people were killed and the building suffered major damage. That day, just like any other day, I traveled with my team down Jalalabad road to the depot, we worked all day, had lunch, went back down Jalalabad road, I went to the gym, got a go-plate from the dining facility, and went to the house. Just another day.

Each day before we travel, we call the BDOC (Base Defense Operations Center) for the road conditions. Alert conditions are set for each route according to the threat, which means the possibility of hostility. Amber means caution, Red means essential travel only, and Black means no movement at all. Our usual daily route is almost always Red--essential travel only. So on the way to work each day we're looking for possible threats such as vehicles that seem to be tailing us or trying to catch up to us; stalled, unoccupied vehicles; the absence of people/pedestrians (locals almost always seem to know when something's going to go down); and anything out of the ordinary. In addition, we instruct our drivers to drive like bats out of Hell, which they are happy to do. A moving target is harder to hit.

We have pre-prepared "accident cards" in each vehicle. If we should have an accident or wreck, we hand the card to the other driver and depart the area. Under no circumstance will we allow ourselves to be boxed-in or stranded. We always travel with at least two vehicles so if one becomes stranded we can get in the other one and get away.

You get used to it. Much like the cops who can stand around a gory crime scene telling jokes, you begin to get a little numb to the danger around here. I remember the first time I went home on leave. Julie picked me up at the airport (a six-pack of Shiner Boch waiting for me in the truck, God bless her). On the way down I-635 toward the house I remember feeling a little uneasy. We were in a lone vehicle, miles from "safety." I wasn't wearing body armor. There were no pedestrians. We stopped several times (for traffic lights). All of the overpasses seemed particularly threatening--good places for the bad guys to drop stuff on you--there are no overpasses in Kabul, probably all of Afghanistan.

It's going to be weird for a while when I get home.

I climbed four of five guard towers at Depot 1 today and took pics. Click here to see them.

Mr. Big Hands

I finally got a picture of Mr. Big Hands. He’s one of our guards at Depot 1. His real name is Abdullah and he’s originally from Salang, Afghanistan. We call him Mr. Big Hands for obvious reasons. He’s the biggest Afghan I’ve ever seen.

Look at his features. I suspect there’s some Cossack blood running through those veins. Remember the Soviet Union occupied this country from 1978 to 1989, right about the time Abdullah was born. Hmm…

Per MPRI’s contract with the US government, the military is responsible for our life support. That means housing, food, medical, security, etc. We eat in the dining facilities and go to the medical aid stations aboard military installations like Camp Eggers and Camp Phoenix, etc. However, our living arrangements are a little different in Kabul.

There just isn’t enough room to billet everyone assigned to Camp Eggers. Of course, the military has priority. Although there have been some exceptions, for the most part, all US military assigned to Camp Eggers live on post. Most of the billeting consists of conex (shipping) containers converted to living quarters. Two soldiers share a 10X20’ space. Community showers/bathrooms are in separate buildings. With few exceptions (primarily KBR), contractors don’t live on Camp Eggers.

MPRI contractors live in the city; in houses we call “safe houses.” They are big homes converted to billet between twenty and thirty people. They have names like Falcon House, White House, and Big House. The houses are surrounded by hardened walls, HESCO barriers, concertina (razor) wire, and security guards. The security guards are locally contracted Afghans with AK47 rifles.

Most rooms in safe houses don’t have bathrooms, but there are usually one or two bathrooms per floor. Some houses have kitchens that are shared by the whole house, although most people hardly use them. There is usually one refrigerator on each floor, and many people buy small refrigerators for their rooms. Most windows are taped up and/or covered with Styrofoam in the winter to help insulate against the bitter cold. Windows to first-floor rooms facing the street are typically covered by a wall of sandbags for additional protection.

There are crates of bottled water stacked in a storage area or in the halls, along with an emergency supply of MREs. Some houses have common areas with couches and a TV. Each house has its own washer/dryers.

Staff are hired to clean the houses and rooms. They empty trash, clean the common areas, clean the rooms, and do personal laundry once a week.

Vehicles, mostly vans and a few SUVs, are parked at the houses. Drivers rotate duties throughout the week. Most of them are on-call; when an MPRI mentor needs to go somewhere, he calls the dispatcher and a vehicle meets him to take him where he needs to go. There is a driver on duty until 10:00 PM each night.

We have evacuation drills regularly. Every resident keeps a “bug out” bag with essentials handy in case of evacuation. A bug out bag usually has things like a change of clothes, toiletries, copies of essential documents like passport/visa and ID cards, flashlight, water, snacks, blanket, etc. During a drill, which can happen at any time, residents grab their bags, body armor, helmet, passport, and a blue chemlight. They meet for a quick head count and keys to the vehicles are distributed. The plan, in case of emergency, is for a military force protection unit to come to the house and escort us to a safe area like Camp Eggers, an ISAF (International Security Forces – Afghanistan) compound, or the US embassy.

Except for the security guards, sandbags, evacuation drills, etc., living in a safe house is a lot like living in a college dormitory without the beer, parties, loud music, and girls. Most of the MPRI contractors are over 40, many are over 50, and the work day starts early so the house is dark & quiet by 8:00 PM.

The water is pumped in from a well. The water is treated with chlorine, and sometimes the chemicals are so strong they cause your eyes to burn during a shower. You must use body lotion to keep your skin from drying out too much. Electricity is provided by huge generators that run on diesel and hum all night—except when they break down, which is quite often. When the generators go down, the water pumps stop too.

All in all, it’s not so bad. You tend to get into a routine. Some folks go to the rooftop after work and watch the kite fights during the day or look for rockets and tracers during the night. Some folks meet in the yard for a smoke and gossip before dark. Some go straight to their rooms and you don’t see them again until the next morning.

On Fridays, which is our day off, you’ll see people coming and going to the bazaars, ISAF compound (for their European dining facilities), or in to work. Some folks will grill, some sunbathe on the rooftop, and few guys even set up an archery range between the houses.

One day I’ll probably look back with fond memories on my time living in the safe house. Not right away, but some day.

Out.

Family & friends often ask me about the trip from Afghanistan to Texas so I thought I’d explain. Of course this only applies to civilians like contractors; the military uses a completely different route.

First you have to get out of Afghanistan. You can’t go on Expedia or anything like that to get tickets; you have to go to a local agency or airline office. Most people fly to Dubai for the first leg, then make their next flights that were booked online. There’s only one airport to fly in & out of—the Kabul Afghanistan International Airport, or KAIA (pronounced like the automaker Kia). This in itself is an adventure.

First you enter the outer guarded gate to the airport and all traffic is directed to an area where the driver is questioned and the vehicle searched. Travelers must remove luggage from the vehicle and take them into a small office where they are x-rayed and often searched. Sometimes you are patted down and there is a separate enclosed area where women are patted down by female inspectors. Often the inspectors will find something harmless in your luggage and claim it could be used as a weapon. Five dollars takes care of that.

Then you load the luggage back into the vehicle for a short trip to one of the outer parking areas. Unless you have some sort of diplomatic or VIP pass, you can’t just drive to the terminal. Unload in the parking lot and carry your luggage about 100 yards through at least two more checkpoints to get to the terminal entrance. Along the way there are vendors, money-changers, beggars, taxi drivers, and hoards of people waiting for arriving passengers. They wait in the open parking lot because without an airplane ticket you can’t get within 50 yards of the terminal.

Once at the terminal, your bags are searched again and you are patted down. They let you in and you’re greeted by dozens of baggage handlers offering to assist and even take you to the front of the line—for a fee, of course. Inside it’s loud, dirty, and disorganized. Other people are motioning to you to have your luggage shrink-wrapped or banded—for a fee, of course. Stand in line for your ticket and go through another x-ray and search before you can go upstairs through customs and into the waiting area.

The waiting area is small, crowded, and the bathrooms are horrific. Planes are never on schedule, so you have to check in at least two hours early in case the pilot decides to board before the scheduled time. Be sure your connecting flight in Dubai is tomorrow morning, because there is no guarantee what time you’ll arrive. Last time I was there, out the window I could see snipers on the rooftop.

Finally your flight is announced and everyone crowds down a slim corridor outside to awaiting buses for a short trip across the tarmac to your plane. Off the bus and into a line where border police again check your tickets and passport. Women, especially women with children and women traveling alone, are escorted to the front of the line. Interesting thing, flight attendants will rearrange seating on the plane. Unrelated Afghan men & women are not allowed to sit next to each other. It’s a Muslim thing.

There are only a few commercial airlines that fly out of Kabul. Actually, it is more correct to say that there are only a few commercial airlines flying out of Kabul that are allowed to land in many other countries. Mainly because their maintenance is not usually up to western standards.

In the air, at first the view of the rugged and often snow-capped Afghan mountains is breathtaking. Once into cloud level, you settle in for the three hour flight. The in-flight meal is halaal. A halaal meal is one prepared according to strict Muslim protocol. I don’t know exactly what that means, but think of it as being similar to a kosher meal (meat has to be slaughtered/prepared a certain way, certain ingredients are used, etc.)

The Dubai International Airport is huge. There are three terminals. Flights from Kabul, the former Soviet Union, Iran and charter flights all arrive at Terminal 2. From there, you have to take a taxi to Terminal 1. I often get a room overnight if there’s enough time between flights, or go to a mall and catch a movie (or a hotel bar), or sometimes straight to Terminal 1. Terminal 3 is new and strictly for Emirates.

As far as I know, there’s only one direct flight from Dubai to the US and it’s a Delta flight to Atlanta. I usually fly American Airlines which means I go through London.

Interesting story about my trip through London one time. There are two airports in London; Heathrow and Gatwick. Once my itinerary had me landing in Heathrow and departing in Gatwick. Never having seen London before, I decided to take this route because I thought I’d at least get to ride from one city to another and see some sights. However, not only was the bus ride expensive (about $60), but the bus ride is down a highway and not very scenic at all. A few farms and commercial establishments, but we didn’t even go through a city. What a waste of time and money.

To leave one airport and go to another for international flights, you have to go through customs both arrival and departure. Not a big deal, I thought. However, at Gatwick while I was in line going through customs, I came to a young agent who was clearly new to the job. He checked my passport and upon seeing that I came from Afghanistan he became obviously nervous. He told me he’d have to talk to his supervisor and asked me to wait. I could see the two of them talking and looking cautiously my way. Finally the young lad walked up to me and whispered, “Sir, I’m sorry for the inconvenience, but considering where you’re coming from…” as he quickly opened and closed my passport at waist-level and off to the side so only he & I could see “…we’ll allow you into the terminal but you’ll have to be searched before boarding the plane.” I almost laughed but instead leaned into him and told him in my best conspiratorial manner that I understood.

I lounged around the duty-free store for a while and ambled to the gate where, to my surprise, the same young man was waiting, with his supervisor observing from a short distance. He asked me to remove my jacket and boots as I placed my carry-on on the table. He so delicately looked through my bag that I had an almost irresistible urge to yell BOOM! but I contained myself. Then he proceeded to pat me down. Keep in mind that I had recently been patted down almost a half dozen times by tough combat-hardened Afghan soldiers and police. In comparison, this was foreplay. Then the supervisor said they’d have to take my boots & bag and put them through x-ray again, and asked me to please wait. I found a seat next to another shoeless and bagless guy. I asked him where he was coming from and he said, “Syria.”

I don’t think I’ll fly through Gatwick again.

Overall, the trip from Dubai to Dallas takes about twenty hours. Add in the total time from Kabul, overnight in Dubai, and the time difference, and the whole trip takes a little over two days. I gain a day from Kabul to Dallas and lose a day going the other way. Takes about two days to overcome the jetlag. Luckily I only have to do this one more time…

But that’s another story…

Out.

I had lunch with the Afghans today.

Because of the remoteness of our work location, MPRI pays to have lunch catered for our drivers and interpreters. Once in a while, I like to walk behind the warehouse to one of the two buildings in which they eat, and join them. I think this helps foster a good working environment, but more importantly, I am able to test the quality of food being served and illustrate to the vendor that I’m watching.

Typically, it is delicious, although I have had a few reports of bad meat.

Today we had the standard naan bread and Afghan rice with carrots, raisins, french fries, and meat. There was beef kabobs, fresh vegetables, yogurt, fruit, and soft drinks.

Interesting side note. There is a TV in the small room where the drivers stay during the day and eat their lunch. After we finished eating, the news came on. It was in Dari so I don’t know what was being said, but they flashed pictures of Palin, McCain, and Obama. A small political discussion ensued with me and a roomful of Afghans. Keep in mind that the future of their country rides on this election. They were avid supporters of McCain, even though his running mate is female and they think Obama is a Muslim. Hmm…

I recently returned from vacation in Dallas. This was my third trip home in twenty-one months. I had so much scheduled and so many honey-dos that now it all seems like a blur. Let me see if I can hit the highlights:

Julie met me at the airport. Went to the house and found my anniversary gift from her: a Texas-motif beer box full of ice-cold Shiner Boch beer!

We celebrated my parents’ fiftieth wedding anniversary party with most of their family/friends at Casa Navarro restaurant. Mom cried at least twice so I guess it was a success.

Shane and Diane & Dave Luther came by the house one night to safety-test the beer box. We gave it a thorough workout by drinking as many beers as we could. Amazingly, it held up even under the superior beer drinking abilities of Shane.

Julie & I went on a trip to Virginia to visit some friends, Mike “Caveman” Stutzman and his new bride Joann. We went to the new Marine Corps Museum in Quantico, VA. We never made it to DC to see the sights (spent too much time at the infamous Command Post pub in Quantico), so Julie insists there really are no monuments.

Drank too much beer at Shane & Sam Thompson’s again. Dad “loaned” a keg cooler to Shane, and rumor has it that he singlehandedly finished off three kegs in three weeks. Sam and dad decided it was time to “unloan” the cooler. Chris Thompson really enjoyed some Cuban cigars—don’t ask me where he got them…

Had lunch with longtime friend Charlie Stone who lost 55 pounds since I last saw him.

Shane & I took his seven-year old son Mickey to the gun range to shoot some old .22 rifles. After a little instruction, Mickey did remarkably well. Do we have a future Marine Corps sniper in our midst?

I traded in my Dodge Ram for a 2007 Toyota Tacoma.

We had dinner with friends Ed & Gayla Fussell at Patrizio’s restaurant in Highland Park.

We took our adopted Afghan son Fida to Nate’s Seafood Restaurant one night. Another day we took him to the Texas State Fair and met real son Mike Jungen with some of his friends there. Fida had his first genuine corny dog and had his caricature drawn. Mike did his best to make Fida hurl by taking him on the scariest rides, but I’m not sure which one of them was scared the most.

Played with the dogs who were all happy to see me. Digger the wolfdog now weighs 89 pounds although he looks bigger. We had to rebuild the 4’ dog run fence because he could easily leap over it.

Julie & I celebrated our seventh wedding anniversary. We didn’t do anything special, just the opportunity to be together was enough. Maybe in another forty-three years someone will throw a party for us.

Out.

Please say a prayer for my 2-year old nephew Marcus, who was recently diagnosed with Leukemia.

I was attacked by a wild dog today.

Well, actually a puppy. Mason, as he was named by the Navy personnel, lies in wait for me whenever I exit my office. Luckily, this morning I had sausages with which to distract him long enough to make my escape, but only after suffering some playful bites from his razor-sharp puppy teeth. Things are getting pretty dangerous around here...

Recently I learned that over a hundred new positions for MPRI were approved. I'm getting nine of them, eight of which will be mentors for Combat Service Support Kandaks (Kandak = Battalion) in Gardez, Kandahar, Herat, and Kabul. The ninth position is for someone to develop an automated logistics management system.

I read where Obama said "Let the market work... and then just tax the heck out of people at the end and just redistribute it." Comforting, isn't it, to know that a Presidential candidate thinks he should "tax the heck" out of us. Better yet, then he's going to "redistribute it." Redistribute to whom exactly, I wonder? Hmm... I guess you know how I'm voting.

Out.

Today is Friday, our day off (Muslim weekend). I went to Camp Phoenix, worked out, played racquetball with Al Viera, another MPRI contractor who is a mentor to the Afghan National Army Air Corps. Then went to the PX, bought some Icy Hot for Shirin's mom and a Mocha Frappe for me.

Called LT Bruce Reilly, USN, the Depot 1 OIC (Officer in Charge), who lives at Camp Phoenix. He previously told me about some new Cougar MRAP (Mine Resistant Ambush Protected) vehicles he had been issued to replace the armored HMMWVs his crew uses to convoy to work.

LT Reilly gave me & Al a tour of the vehicles. They are awesome. Imagine a huge armored truck with a machine gun turrent, infrared cameras for night driving, joystick-operated searchlights, and room for seven including the gunner. I need one.

On a side note, I recently learned the Dari word for friend, rafik. Dari is very close to Farsi, and Dari/Farsi are very similar to the Arabic languages and share many words. Anyway, one day I was thinking about the Dari word for infidel, kafir, and it dawned on me: kafir sounds like rafik backwards. Hmm...

Here's the announcement I wrote for my parents' 50th wedding anniversary:

Ernest and Pat Lanicek will be celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary with a private party for family & friends. Ernest and Pat met on a double-date (not with each other) at the defunct Keller’s Drive-in on Harry Hines Blvd, while Ernest was home on leave from the US Navy and Pat was in bobby socks and a ponytail. It was love at first sight. After a whirlwind romance, Ernest married the former Patricia Marie Harris at Saint Monica’s Catholic Church in Dallas, TX on August 16, 1958. They are the parents of Rick, husband of Julie, and Dan, husband of Kim. They have two grandchildren, Brendan and Sarah.

I realized that I haven't written anything of substance in a while. I started this blog as a way to document my experiences as a contractor in Afghanistan, but after nineteen months I've kinda lost some steam.

I noticed in a few blogs I read that sometimes the authors simply put down a few random thoughts when they don't have anything in particular to discuss. Sometimes that is interesting to read, sometimes not. My favorites are survivalism blogs and some of them are:
Be a Survivor
Total Survivalist Libertarian Rantfest
SHTFblog.com
Getting Started in Emergency Preparedness

I also spend way too much time on the gun forum ar15.com.

So here are a few things, maybe interesting, maybe not.

My driver Sherin told me today that his uncle's wife was bitten by a cobra and had to have her leg amputated. His uncle (I think he uses that term for almost any male relative) lives in Panjshir. Panjshir is a beautiful valley. I wrote about it previously. As far as I can tell, there are wolves, lions, tigers, and apparently cobras in Panjshir.

Jim got back from leave today. Luckily Julio is on leave for a few more days so there is still some relative calm at the depot. Those two fight like a sack of cats.

Over the weekend one of the Afghan National Army (ANA) trucks at the depot was totaled. One of the civilian guards said he "found" a key on the ground, then "found" the Ranger it went to, then used that Ranger to make his rounds. During one of his rounds he accidentally hit a conex. These Ford Rangers are four-door, four-wheel drive, diesel trucks with heavy-duty suspension and bumpers. The bumper was pushed into the tire and it appears the frame was bent. I call BS on his story. Also, there was no apparent damage or scraping on the conex. Right.

I'm still doing crossfit. Today's workout of the day (WOD) was the crossfit total. That means one rep max on the back squat, shoulder press, and deadlift. I didn't do as well as I hoped, but I squatted 335, pressed 155, and deadlifted 315. Hmpf.

My parents' 50th wedding anniversary in a couple weeks. Wow. Fifty years. That's either true love or amazing tolerance. They're planning a trip to an all-inclusive resort in Mexico to celebrate. Good for them.

Last Friday I was walking aroung the house compound looking for a driver to take me to Eggers. I ran into a couple of guys who live in the next house shooting compound bows. They set up a range between the house and the wall. They were eager to tell me all about their sport and let me try one of their bows. Damn. Just what I needed--another hobby. I thinking about buying this one.

I'm also thinking about getting a ham radio license. Having a couple radios and knowing how to use them would come in handy if/when the SHTF (shit hits the fan), also known as TEOTW (the end of the world) or TEOTWAWKI (the end of the world as we know it). See survivalism links above...

That's enough for now.

Out.

Puppies!

I've noticed recently, on the way to work, some puppies in a lot where unissued ANP vehicles are parked. Today on the way in, I saw them again and told Sherin to stop. I got out and the puppies all ran away, but momma kept a watchful eye on me. I tried to call them over but to no avail.

Ah, Strawberry's sausages. I pulled them out of my pocket and tossed a little piece. One of the puppies went for it. I tossed more, closer and closer, until the puppy would take them out of my hand. Eventually I was able to pet him.

The other three puppies kept their distance but momma wanted to see what I had. I tossed a few small pieces to the other puppies and the remaining whole sausage to the momma.

Sorry, Strawberry.

Out.

Welcome to Afghanistan

When I first accepted this job over 18 months ago, I received an email from the MPRI Logistics Director, Laney Pankey, that ended with "Welcome to Afghanistan." Something about that simple little phrase sounded intimidating and ominous.

Now I'm a hiring manager and I've sent two similar emails to new hires. I plagiarized from that first email from Laney and left the spooky little ending "Welcome to Afghanistan."

I wonder what they thought when they read it...

Out.

We took a group photo today. Here is the MPRI Materiel Control Team, ANA Central Supply Depot, Kabul, Afghanistan. Photo was taken at the Sergeant Major's Park on Camp Eggers.

From left to right:

Johnny Vaughan
Rick Lanicek
Charles Coffman
Phil Holguin
Troy Zimmerman
Marcus Stith
Jim Foster
Mark Orthman
Clyde McLaughlin
Reggie Tyus
Rudy Berrien
Sharon Corbin
Faith Humphrey
Greg Johnson
John Propst
John Davis
Julio Octtaviani

Just finished the US Army Combat Life Saver (CLS) course. The course is not basic first aid, it is "first responder" lifesaving treatment for combat trauma. Over 2,500 soldiers died in Vietnam due to severe hemorrhaging (bleeding) and many could have been saved using the skills taught in this course.

It is mandatory for most of the units who convoy or "go outside the wire"—at least two CLS per squad. Each of our safe houses have at least one designated CLS and I volunteered for my house because I wanted the instruction.

The course objectives are as follows:
-Perform Tactical Combat Casualty Care
-Evaluate a Casualty
-Open and Manage a Casualty's Airway
-Treat Penetrating Chest Trauma and Decompress and Tension Pneumothroax
-Control Bleeding
-Initiate a Saline Lock and Intravenous (IV) Infusion
-Initiate a Field Medical Card
-Request a Medical Evacuation
-Evacuate a Casualty Using a Sked or Improvised Litter

We got hands-on with almost every procedure (we didn’t actually insert a naso pharyngeal airway (NPA) or perform a needle chest decompression). We did, however, initiate an IV infusion. This was the most frightening and entertaining part of the class. Some participants finished the exercise with six or more puncture wounds because their partners were unable to correctly enter the vein with a needle/catheter. I was lucky, my partner had big fat veins that I could hardly miss. There was one big black Army MSGT with arms twice as big as mine who looked away while his partner stuck him, then sweated profusely when it was his turn to perform the procedure.

So rest easy. If you ever suffer from a sucking chest wound, amputated limb, or need a saline infusion, I’m your man!

Out.

One of our interpreter/translators brought this in today. It's called bolani. It's flat naan bread, stuffed with potato and leek, then fried. Delicious!

Koh Samui, Thailand

A much needed and appreciated break. The last time I took leave was Nov last year when I went home for Thanksgiving. This time, instead of going to Dallas, I met Julie in Thailand.

My flight out of Kabul was like any other. Walked about a quarter mile from the parking area to the terminal, past vendors, taxi drivers, and other less-fortunate travelers. Between the time I entered the main gate and boarded the plane, I had my bags x-rayed twice, search twice, and I was patted down five times. The flight crew was Turkish, I think. The in-flight meal was naan, fruit, yogurt, and an unidentifiable meat product. Most Americans fly first to Dubai for connecting flights. Two other MPRI employees were on my flight, Dennis & Melisa.

DUBAI

Dennis was meeting his fiancée-to-be in for a week-long vacation in Dubai. Melisa was meeting a friend in, coincidentally, Bangkok. My flight out the next morning was very early so I didn’t bother with a hotel room. We all went out and had a wonderful steak dinner and a few cocktails, then I went to the airport to wait for my flight.

My flight to Doha, Qatar, then on the Bangkok was uneventful. Upon arriving in Bangkok I had a few hours to kill until Julie’s flight arrived, so I ate, shopped, and read Lucifer’s Hammer by Larry Niven and Jerry Pournelle—light vacation reading about TEOTWAWKI (The End Of The World As We Know It). Somehow we missed each other at the airport so I took a taxi to the hotel and there she was in the lobby!

BANGKOK

The Lebua at State Tower is magnificent. We had an incredible suite on the 54th floor. Two bedrooms, full kitchen, two living areas, three balconies. We emptied the mini-bar of its alcoholic beverages on the balcony while enjoying the view and each other’s company.

The next morning we hit the road to see Bangkok. Walking out of the hotel and down the street, there were vendors everywhere. I had to try something local, so I bought a couple of things cooked wrapped in leaves. Upon opening them, I was delighted to find what I can only describe as a hot, sweet banana. We didn’t really have a plan, so I hailed a tuk-tuk. A tuk-tuk is a sort a hybrid between a motorcycle and a rickshaw. Here’s what one looked like. I asked the driver to take us to a restaurant for an authentic Thai lunch. He dropped us off at a nice little place with live fish in aquariums out front where we picked out our food. We had spicy Tom Yam soup, prawns, fried rice, and a few Singha beers.

Then we found another tuk-tuk driver who offered to show us the city for a reasonable fee. I think it was about US $12. We saw several Buddha temples and a few tailor/jewelry shops that he insisted we visit. Note: tuk-tuk drivers get coupons for free gas when they take you to certain establishments.

Later we went to a posh bar at the top of Lebua at State Towers, had a few more Singhas, and I tricked Julie into eating an olive.

KOH SAMUI DAY 1

Then it was time to start our trek to Koh Samui, which is an island in the Gulf of Thailand. There’s a couple of ways to get from Bangkok to Koh Samui. Most people take the one-hour flight. I thought it would be romantic to take a sleeper train to Surat Thani (about eleven hours), then a short ferry ride to Koh Samui. Boy was I wrong. While the train ride was adventurous, it was anything but romantic. The train station was neat though, at one point we saw an officer in uniform talking with a woman in a dress sitting on a bench, and it was reminiscent of old WWII movies. But we didn’t get a sleeper car like I envisioned. The beds were our seats, folded out bunk-bed style. I was too short for my top bunk. I crawled out early the next morning to find Julie sitting up in her bunk like a kid in her sheet fort on her bed. We arrived in Surat Thani, then about two hours on a bus to the ferry, then about three hours on the ferry in the rain to Koh Samui. We decided on the return trip we’d fly instead.

Of note was some of the Buddhist ornaments. Like Julie & I who both wear crosses depicting our Christian beliefs, Buddhists wear things too. Some of them are quite large and encased in clear plastic like little terrariums. Finally we asked someone who said they were monks and/or temples and meant to bring good luck.

We arrived at Bill Resort (I know, but it’s Bill Resort not Bill’s Resort) and we amazed by our beachfront bungalow. The edge of our deck was literally only a few yards from the surf. The pool & restaurant was just around the corner. Except for a steep walk from/to the reception area, it was perfect. We immediately broke into the mini-bar and I had the Singhas while Julie enjoyed the Thai red wine which was chilled and sweet like Sangria.

KOH SAMUI DAY 2

We had breakfast at the resort restaurant, served by a waitress we nicknamed Button because we agreed she was “as cute as a button.” Then after relaxing a while on our deck watching the waves and beach traffic, we adventured into town. Almost dehydrated from the 100 ft. walk, we stopped at the first available patio bar for some liquid refreshment—Singha. We were joined by Maria the cat as we watched young men spar in the open-air Muay Thai boxing ring across the street. We later made out way down the street, patronizing each patio bar along the way, and were adopted by a beach dog we named Clyde who looked remarkably like Julie’s dog Sampson and who followed us the rest of the day.

At one bar we decided to deviate from Singha and ordered Bloody Marys. They were horrible. We told the server (Russian, I think) so and he admitted he didn’t know how to make them but he would go ask his friend. He immediately hopped on the back of a scooter and disappeared. Some time later he returned and apologized because he couldn’t find Worcester anywhere on the island.

KOH SAMUI DAY 3

The third day was our jungle safari. We were picked up at he hotel and first went to see Grandfather and Grandmother rocks, which are well-known natural rock formations that look remarkably like male & female genitalia. Then we went to an animal park where Julie held a baby otter and several birds, I bottle-fed two tiger cubs, we saw an elephant show, and we went for a ride on an elephant. Our next stop was a beautiful waterfall and quick swim. Then to the top of a mountain where we had a magnificent view of the island, and lunch at a restaurant with an equally impressive view. Lastly, we went to see the Giant Buddha, which was on the other side of the island. We were traveling in the back of a small pickup with other tourists, including two young women who we think were French, and three guys who turned out to be the first Emirates I’ve ever met despite my many trips through Dubai. There was also one frumpy old lady who was sight-seeing by herself.

KOH SAMUI DAY 4

This was the relaxing day. We went to Tamarind Springs Spa for five hours of blissful relaxation. First one and a half hours by ourselves in a steam room built into the rocks and a cool water pool right next to it. Then a two and a half hour massage in a comfortable pavilion surrounded by jungle. We could hear rainfall and jungle birds while skillful masseuses treated us to a traditional Thai massage.

That night we went to Rick’s Resort for a delightful dinner of tempura shrimp and prawns in white wine sauce with a Chilean Corinto Merlot. There was a cabaret show with transvestites lip-synching and dancing to show tunes. Later we retreated to our bungalow where we relaxed on the deck and I enjoyed a Nicaraguan Vigilante cigar while we watched fireworks light up the shrimp boats.

KOH SAMUI DAY 5

We laid on the beach, slept, ate, relaxed.

KOH SAMUI DAY 6

Fishing/snorkeling tour. The van picked us up and took us to the pier where we boarded our boat. We went out near some small islands nearby and fished with hand lines over the side of the boat. I caught a small grouper. Later Julie had a bite. She said “It feels big!” and was having trouble bringing it in so I reached over to help her, thinking she must be hung up on a rock. Nope, it was a big one! Together we pulled it in and then let the deck hands take over to net it (with a laundry basket) and bring it aboard. Everyone cheered when it was in the boat and took pics. I wish I could say what kind it was but I’ve never seen anything like it and couldn’t understand what the Thai deck hand said, but it was shaped like a sunfish only larger. It was probably 15 inches long, about 10 inched tall, and I guess it weighed 12 lbs.

After fishing in the morning, we went to a small island where the crew prepared our catch and we had a picnic. Julie’s fish fed not only the other tourists on our boat (three from China and two from Hong Kong), but also another boat that didn’t have any fish.

Then we went to another area where there were some coral reefs and got out of the boat to snorkel. It was beautiful. There were hundreds of fish who weren’t shy. At times we’d be surrounded by these little fish that would swim right up to us and even brush against us.

We were supposed to fly back to Bangkok the next day for two more nights in Bangkok. The fishing was great, but I told Julie it wasn’t exactly what I had in mind—I was thinking about more fishing, with poles, in boat in which we could stand, with beer. We both loved Koh Samui so much we decided to extend another day. So…

KOH SAMUI DAY 7

This time we took another fishing tour. A bigger boat, with fishing poles, standing room, and Singha beer. We fished all morning then broke for onboard lunch when the crew cooked some of our catch. The captain asked if we wanted to snorkel in the afternoon or keep fishing. Us tourists (Julie & me; a couple from China; a couple from Germany; two Asian teens; and a guy who we think was English) voted to continue fishing. I caught a few fish and a lot of coral, Julie caught a few fish plus one calamari.

That night we went to a highly rated restaurant called the Cliff. We had a delicious dinner, appetizers, soup, wine, entrée, desert, after-dinner drinks all for under US $200.

KOH SAMUI DAY 8

Checked out of the resort and had time for a little shopping before our flight. We bought some souvenirs and I bought a ring for Julie. The airport in Koh Samui was surprisingly beautiful, like you might expect an island paradise airport should be. Flight to Bangkok, taxi to the Royal Orchid Hotel where our room on the seventeenth floor had a splendid view of the river, but no balcony. We had dinner in the hotel’s Thai restaurant. One last glorious taste of spicy Tom Yam soup; a delightful appetizer that you build yourself from leaves, scallion, peanuts, dried shrimp, something crunchy, and topped with a spicy sauce; prawns in white wine sauce, and a Chilean Cabernet.

BANGKOK

Up early and to the airport. A quick kiss goodbye and then Julie made a mad dash to her gate while I checked in for my flight. Julie’s flight included a short layover in Tokyo while mine included a long layover in the tiny airport in Doha, Qatar.

DUBAI

I finally landed in Dubai where I had almost twenty hours to kill. I went to the Gardens mall, shopped for a new bag since mine was falling apart, had some grape leaves and hummus at the food court, and watched the Iron Man movie. I didn’t realize Iron Man took place in Afghanistan and the bad guys were Arab. It was interesting to watch a movie in the United Arab Emirates, in English with Arab subtitles—except when the bad guys were speaking. Weird.

Found a cheap hotel for the night where apparently the clientele was mostly Pakistani workers. Went to the dingy hotel bar for a nightcap and saw an Arab-looking woman get irate at something a man said to her, expecting to see an instant beheading but someone rushed the guy out before that could happen. Went to bed, woke up the next morning for my flight back to Kabul. As usual, the taxi driver was surprised to hear I wanted Terminal 2. Most westerners fly in and out of Terminal 1. Terminal 2 is reserved for shitty third-world countries. I guess it doesn’t need to be said which terminal flies to Afghanistan.

KABUL

Arrived in Kabul and had to wait on the tarmac while some Japanese delegation was ceremoniously greeted, then through customs, searched, x-rayed, and frisked. Back the grey quarter mile past security guards with AK-47s, beggars, vendors, and taxi drivers to the parking area where my driver Sherin was waiting for me with my body armor like a puppy dog. Home sweet home.

Click here for our pics (over 400 of them). Enjoy!

Out.

Julie added her observations to mine:

Flight Day: My flights: Tokyo—flying over looked like flying over Louisiana. Normal houses, not high rises, and rice patties with a fancy golf course in the middle of everything. 22 hour flight to meet you, and an extra 1 1/2 hour delay due to weather. Weather, we later found out, was the cause of the cyclone in Burma.
I get to airport, no Rick, no English, 1:00 AM. I am tired and anxious and have -0- way of communicating with anyone. Found cab-1 hour to hotel. Get there and you had not checked in. I had no idea where you were. No messages either.

Lebua State Tower: Perfect timing...We met in the lobby. They felt sorry for us and had run out of rooms so we got an incredible upgrade to their 2nd best suite! The suite looked like it was straight out of IKEA, quite trendy, complete with crystal chandeliers, separate living/dining room areas, a fully stocked kitchen, 2 bedrooms, front load washer/dryers and 3 balconies. We had to sign a balcony waiver when we checked in since the architecture of the building incorporated balconies in every room. This hotel had been written up in Conde Nast (world renowned travel guide) as one of the top hotels, bar none, in Bangkok. They also have the only restaurant/bar that is literally on the rooftop, overlooking the Chao Phraya River which runs through downtown Bangkok. Weird dress code...women cannot wear open toed shoes. I packed 8 pairs of shoes...all were open toed! The bar is all glass and almost has an infinity feel to it...like you could walk off the ledge and step directly onto the clouds. Very unique.

Bangkok: No fear: stepped out of hotel and immediately grabbed food from a street vendor. They sold the fried honey bananas out of the equivalent of an ice cream cart, and made them as fast as we could buy them. They were wrapped in banana leaves, and were about 1/2 the size of our local bananas. I even enjoyed it!
Buddhist shrines: Very ornate architecture, like nothing else in the city. The actual Buddhas were made out of gold...more specifically gold flakes. We later learned gold flakes were placed on the Buddhas by monks for good fortune. Buddhist monks appear to be quiet, peaceful, bald, and mostly wear orange togas (sarongs?) Temples themselves were made out of gold and gems, and the architecture was quite traditional and different from anything else we saw in the city.
Protocol for the temple: take shoes off, it's ok to take pics inside. Locals burn incense with orchids and dedicate a prayer. People can enter the temple to pray at all hours. We were impressed with this fact. Some people were writing prayers on paper and burning them as an offering to Buddha. There were colorful ribbons and leis, incense and money boxes for donations everywhere at the foot of Buddha. No explanations anywhere in English so we had to assume many traditions.
Jewelry factory: they were actually grinding the stones and carving them into jewelry right in front of us. We heard that the jewelry factories were owned by the govt.

Koh Samui:
Day 2: You could also describe the terrarium as a golden snow globe. Mention that Buddha is in the terrarium, covered in gold, and he brings luck, safety and goodness to those who wear him. Many wore pimped Buddhas.
On the train, we stopped every 1/2 hour or so to pick up other passengers, similar to riding on DART. Vendors would hop on, trying to sell us beer, souvenirs, etc. While on the train, after finally leaving Bangkok, I saw 2 Catholic Church missions surrounded with concertina wire. This was a strange visual. Neither of us had been on a train before and were surprised how the gentle rocking of the train made us sleepy rather early—like around 9 PM! We thought we'd get our own car but shared it with several others. Don't pee unless it's an absolute emergency.
Ferry: Found out beer is only 20 baht, or less than $1, so this stretch of the trip was tolerable. Terrain started looking more like Hawaii with bold mountains jetting out of the water.
Harley riders greeted us when we docked. Many ex-pats going out for a ride.

Bill Resort: We did a great job being very specific with our room request. We mentioned it was out honeymoon and got the royal treatment when we entered our beachfront, bungalow room. The white linen sheets were covered in orchid petals gently placed in the shape of a heart. They also had a fruit basket ornately covered in banana leaves and a wine basket with their local Thai wine. The help was incredibly friendly and accommodating. The trek from our room to the lobby was quite daunting with a hill that would wear out even the most fit hikers. You really had to WANT to get to the lobby if you needed anything. You couldn't just call in for room service, either. The room had no phone! The only English TV channel was Bloomberg. Needless to say there wasn't much TV watching being done. Both of us read. (Yes, Rick even read People magazine with me!) The weather was bad when we arrived so we adapted! We pulled out the IPOD docking station, hung out on the patio, drank, danced, smoked, told lies an stayed up past our bedtime! Near our bungalow, beachfront bars were lined up all down the coastline, so it was no wonder that when tourists walked by they thought we were a bar. We could have sold Singhas and paid for our trip!

Day 3: In town. The side street we stumbled across was the main drag to the cities bars, stores, etc. We couldn't have planned it any better if we tried! It looked like something you might see out of Key West or in some Southern beach town. Very quaint, open-aired architecture. Very laid back. Jamaican music, Abba, country music, you name it. More importantly...very cheap beer. We ordered appetizers once in a while...I fell in love with tempura shrimp and spring rolls. Goes well with Singha.
After touring about 6 establishments, we ventured down a side street that looked slightly different than the main drag. We stopped at one other unique bar: Hot Lips. The reason...we were curious. Their logo was stolen right off of Harley Davidson. It must be cool!
A side note: Local girlie-girls are rampant in Thailand. I think Rick called them buy-me-drinky girls. Old geezers fly to this country by themselves just to get laid by native island girls. They have ample opportunity...local Thai girls prostitute themselves out and it is seen as absolutely no big deal. The exploitation of these girls bothered me quite a bit at first, but nobody else seemed to mind. Eventually, I adapted, but never quite accepted this lifestyle choice. Back to the bar... Hot Lips was such a girly bar. Two hot Thai women greeted us, gave us some Singhas and kept asking Rick to come back later. This didn't bother me at all...but it was interesting that the girls were so brazen and that this is the norm.
Also, you're never really sure whether you're talking to a girl or a boy. Transvestites flourish down here, too. We kept looking for Adams Apples on these two. The he-males/women/men are beautiful and laid back...a perfect combination for anyone looking for 'love'... After we hung out with these 2 for a while, we started to realize that we had stumbled onto a side street that could be best described as the "Zona Rosa"...or red light district. Gays/loose women and alcohol abounded. It was a feast for the eyes! The spirit of the street reminded me of Bourbon Street during Mardi Gras. Great people watching! We ate too much, drank too much, I passed out and Rick partied with the help back at the hotel. This later proved to be a fruitful move. They were at our beck and call the remainder of the trip!

Day 4 Elephant Tour: Story behind Grandfather/Grandmother Rock:
First of all...there is DEEP respect for the elderly in Thailand. Story goes...a grandfather and grandmother were coming to Thailand to raise their family and begin new opportunities. They got caught in a horrible storm and died at sea. Their bodies washed up to shore, and their spirits grew into the boulders/beachside. Their organs became the prominent features to develop in the granite, which was for good luck in fertility.
The rock formations are as close to the real thing as you will ever see. You may even blush or feel a little uneasy staring too long at the rocks.
On the elephant tour, we were lucky enough to also see a monkey act, elephant act and a crocodile act. The crocodile act was the most unique...they hypnotized the crocs and the trainers did such daring stunts as inserting their entire arms and their own heads into the crocs' mouths. They even kissed them on the lips. Trainers were young, 20 yr olds...very daring!
This day was a personal challenge for me on many levels. I was still recovering from a previous surgery I had 2 weeks earlier. I had not regained my sense of core balance. This is only important because I am scared of heights, and we were:
1. Riding on top of HIGH elephants on a trail up in the mountains that looked WAY DOWN onto a creek...straight down a steep hill.
2. Hiking on a trail that was an intermediate level in difficulty up to the waterfall and the magical garden. Nothing was level at all.
3. Driving on narrow roads that had drop offs and I didn't hyperventilate.
We drove to the top of the mountain and saw a view of all the islands we later fished at.
Did I mention it was very humid and about 100 degrees?
On this tour we also saw a mummified monk...some monk who used to be married with a family and after 50 years became a monk/abbot. Converting to a monk is supposed to be a blessing for your family. He saw a premonition of his own death and somehow the family knew to save his body and not bury him. The only thing I know is that Buddhists believe in reincarnation. You come back to Earth at the next level, higher or lower, based off of your behavior in your previous life. Being mummified is evidently a great direction!
We also went to see the Great Buddha. This shrine is enormous! We thought all temples were ancient, but Rick noticed architectural/structural features that would favor towards the modern. Long story short, this temple was built in 1972~! We bought souvenirs here, too. It seemed almost sacrilegious having souvenir shops intertwined with the temple, but it all flowed together just fine!
Note: regarding the Emirates we toured with: they were quite familiar with the USA, more so than any other people we ran into on the trip. One studied in Seattle and had lived in the USA for several years. They actually valued our educational system! They talked about the new Terminal 3 in Dubai airport and since he was an Emirate he got to be one of the first to enter the terminal. 3 Emirate friends on a trip...trouble! They were so friendly! Our first Emirate encounter!
Note regarding the terrain in the mountain: it's as rich and green as you could imagine. There are very thick vines, heavy foliage, ferns, and huge palm trees/coconut trees. Elephants, monkeys and tigers are regional animals here. Any given day or night you heard mynah birds (which are known for mimicking human voices), monkeys, loud chirps and hoots, etc.
I've never seen such a wide variety of beautiful butterflies, either. Families of butterflies were seen that I had never even visualized in pictures before...all with bold vivid colors. No wonder oriental pictures have butterflies in them!
Flowers abound everywhere...hyacinths even float in the water. Colors, smells sounds...you cannot reproduce this back home.

Tamarind Springs: We were not allowed to bring a camera. All I can say is that neither of us had ever been to a spa like this before, and never will again. It, for a lack of better words, is probably a 5-star spa. The theme is "Heaven on Earth". The spa is literally built into the mountainside, and has natural springs to wade in. The natural springs are said to have healing properties. Your experience starts with an outdoor shower with one of those rain-showerheads. Very awesome! Then you wade in the natural springs, which are built into the boulders, complete with a waterfall you can swim in. The spa is built in, too. Just you and nature. They provided us with sarongs and black, fishnet underwear for the massage. Hmmm.
Once your massage begins, you are escorted to an area up the hill in an entire different region of the resort. It's a hike!
Dinner at Rocky's: The Cabaret show focused on music we grew up with. It's interesting to me that nobody was from the USA on this trip, but all of the music was ours. The he-male dancers looked so beautiful...I don't know how they looked so much like girls, but I was intimidated! Represented stars included: Cher, Tina Turner, Saturday Night Fever, Abba, Madonna, Brittany Spears. They even did the Macarena.
The fireworks later: we thought some bar was simply trying to get attention and draw attention to themselves. Fireworks are actually a symbol of good luck for the fisherman. While the fishermen are in their boats at sea, they look towards the coastline and see the fireworks shooting off into the sky. The fireworks are supposed to wish good luck on their catch.

Day of Rest: It rained that night during dinner. Again, we did not know that this bad weather was the future cyclone that hit Burma 3 days later.

Line Fishing Day: This was not a typical boat for salt water fishing. It was a traditional cigar shaped boat with an awning. The captain had concocted some long handle attached to the motor to steer.
We met some Chinese tourists who spoke English, and another couple from Hong King who spoke excellent English. We all exchanged email info and look forward to keeping in touch with them.
Snorkeling was different than in Mexico or Hawaii. You were allowed to stand on the coral. We all got little cuts as a result. Earlier in the day we told our waiter we were going fishing and he gave us a loaf of bread. We had no idea why until we got out there. The fish are so friendly and tame that people feed them bread!
The schools of fish were everywhere! Some fish I recognized: parrot fish, angel and butterfly fish, lion fish, clownfish, damsels, grouper, parrotfish, tangs....absolutely amazing!
Later that night we still had energy and went to the Patio Bar. This night began our Roman Orgy theme which ensued throughout the remainder of the trip. We had wonderful gourmet meals from this day on out.
We arrived early to the restaurant so walked down the road to a little place called "Hip Bar". Finally...English speaking purveyors! The Thai woman who owned the bar, June, and her fiancée were probably in their mid 20's. They love Hip Hop music. She studied hip hop dance for 6 years and wanted to open this bar so others could dance. His sister gave them the $$ to start the place. (Sister was married to an Austrian, they had 2 kids, he died on his birthday in a car wreck and left her lots of money.) June went to New York to take pics of graffiti, since there isn't any on the island. She brought the pics back and her fiancée painted the bar in NY graffiti. We hung out and started talking about real estate. Ends up his sister had a house she was trying to sell. It was from the previous marriage. She wasn't going to sell but she fell in love with a man from England and no longer wanted to keep the place. Price: $25 Million Baht! ($800K USD). This includes 6 acres, 1 main house and 2 cottages complete with a swimming pool. They were a fascinating couple with interesting stories. Then, while we were talking, a little street boy came up to our table and tried to sell us a rose. He was probably about 7 years old at best. Rick bought the entire bouquet from him, and you could see his day was made! He got all giddy, started clapping his hands and making random squealing noises of joy. Once Rick gave him the 18 baht, the little boy, very untraditionally, came up to every person at the table and kissed them on both cheeks and hugged us all. Priceless!
We left and ate at the Patio. It is a part of a beautiful, 5-star resort, and the walk to the restaurant was an experience on its own. It's the kind of resort where if you feel so inclined, you can rent a room with its own swimming pool. We went off of the critic's recommendations: Lobster bisque, mozzarella balls, chicken kebab in red curry sauce, and then a main course of crab stuffed prawn covered in a white wine sauce, shrimp with asparagus and glass noodles with seafood with a side of Thai sauce. Lord, we even had dessert! During the meal, we had the most pleasant Filipino mariachi band trio come sing for us. Before it was all said and done, Rick selected the catchy tune "House of the Rising Sun" for them to sing, (trying to stump the band) and she roped me into singing with them. I sound great with wine! We had a blast! This huge meal was about $100! It would have been a cool $400 here!

Deep Sea Fishing Day: Rick caught a Rockfish within the first hour of the voyage. Whew! He's wanted to fish for months!!!
Weather was a little overcast...thoughts of Gilligan's Island crept in my head. The guide spoke broken English and loved to sing. Calamari, rockfish and grouper were our catch! We didn't starve!
On the boat they gave us complimentary exotic fruits and water. We tried our first Rambutan. It looks like a hairy strawberry! You twist off the skin and a white, plum-like fruit is encased underneath. It's very sweet, and I think it's the fruit used in Thai wine. (Later on we also ate a Dragon Fruit. It is a white fruit with small, edible black seeds. It looks like chocolate chip ice cream...as a fruit! It favors a kiwi but is sweeter.) On the topic of fruit... Rick says he's never had riper bananas in his life, either.

The Cliff: This restaurant was written up in every publication we came across. The chef is from Portugal and has traveled around the world to fuse flavors together. It's worth every bit of the efforts, too!
One big benefit of traveling during off-peak season is that you can virtually walk-in without a wait! We had a patio table as soon as we walked in! Again, we went with the critic's recommendation: appetizer consisted of dumplings stuffed with prawn and topped with lobster/white wine sauce. WOW!!! I had the main dish of Chicken cooked in a Portuguese Piri-Piri sauce. The sauce favors Thai sauce but has some different hotter spices.
Rick had a copper bowl overflowing with mussels drenched in a white wine, almost gravy thickness, sauce. It was pure heaven! All week we had Chilean wines with dinner, and were never disappointed. Rick finally had an opportunity to enjoy some 10 year old port, and I had a Cliffhanger...basically a White Russian with ice cream and chocolate syrup. What a great night. At any given point we had 4 people waiting on us hand and foot!

Last Day: No souvenir shops exist like other tourist places. You actually have to take a tour. We went and Rick bought me a beautiful sapphire/diamond ring in 18kg. I especially like it because they mine sapphires right in Thailand. It's local!
We bought souvenirs... (Ironically no place had t-shirts.) We had a little time to kill before the airport back to Bangkok, so we discovered a Tetco, (aka Wal-Mart).
Rick's suitcase was breaking, so he bought a new one. Then we went outside to a local food stand. Again, we didn't go wrong with the food! Rick had his soup and green curry/potato, I had my glass noodles and we had Singhas! Delicious!
For an island with 40,000 occupants, it struck me as odd that this was the only store of its kind in the island! I guess everyone goes to the marketplaces which abound everywhere!
The airport reminded me of the one on the show "Fantasy Island". I was not alone in taking pictures. Even the restroom had a built-in aquarium.
Rick and I flew together for the first time in several years. Nice. Trains, planes and tuk-tuks! We arrived in Bangkok right during rush hour, and it took forever to reach the Sheraton. This hotel is also on Conde Nast's top hotels to visit.
The lobby favored an elegant museum! It is located on the Chao Phraya River, and the views were almost as beautiful as the State Tower's.
A side note: very trendy room...the TV was a wide screen computer. We need one!
We ate at the hotel's Thai restaurant. You could dine inside in the traditional version, where you take off your shoes and sit at floor level. We opted for the outdoors. It was Friday night and I think a good choice. We saw party boats on the river, all lit up like Christmas trees. The dinner cruisers would float by playing Abba or the Macarena. Quite funny. It reminded us of the Pirate Ship we partied on in Cancun. Arrghhh!
As far as I could tell, we were the only Americans in Koh Samui or Bangkok.
Most tourists were from Australia, Germany, Russia, Holland or somewhere in the Orient. The only time English was spoken was if it was out of necessity. Even the Thai alphabet differs from ours. I think most foreigners felt a little shy speaking English. I felt inept not knowing any language but English. We survived! I didn't realize how close we were to Viet Nam or Malaysia. I also didn't realize how far Thailand was from Japan. There's a large, undiscovered world out there for us to explore.