Who'd a Thunk?

As I may have mentioned before, life here often borders on the surreal - and occasionally goes deep into that territory as it did today.

This morning I found myself sitting next to Afghan villagers in the front row of a viewing pavillion overlooking a soccer field where Korean soldiers were putting on a welcoming ceremony featuring traditional drums and Tae Kwon Doo dancing as the pre-game show. In the background huge armored vehicles rolled along, bringing in US soldiers from a neighboring base who came to tailgate (they had plenty of steak, but no real beer). After the kick-off, the traditional "olay, olay olay olay olay" song was put on the speakers (you know the one I mean) -  followed by traditional afghan music, while the sidelines buzzed with fans, most notably a rowdy group of Korean soldiers with an afghan flag who decided (or perhaps had been ordered) to cheer for the visiting team...

Needless to say, I had a blast - and enjoyed watching a great match that ended in a 1:1 tie.

Traitors!!!  or maybe just nice guys

It was great to see the soldiers enjoying themselves as well, as the security posture here tends to be quite high.  That's a nice way of saying that on the spectrum of bored minimum wage stadim guy checking for beer bottles and power tools on one end to TSA: Xtreme Edition cavity mappers on the other. We tend towards the latter. They made a lot of effort to bridge a huge cultural gap, and the afghans were visibly pleased.

As something of a third-party to the basically Afghan-Korean exchange, I had the chance to observe some of the more amusing aspects of the day. My favorite was the reaction of the afghans to the korean food that was offered alongside a traditional (and more appealing) afghan lunch of naan (flatbread) and lamb kabob. While the sticky Korean rice and (to my surprise) the kimchi was well-received, each and every afghan I saw was having a polite laugh over the spicy seafood noodle dish. They pointed at the chunks asking me to explain, in Dari, what the ingredients (octopus and shrimp) were. Regrettably, neither of these animals is among the 20-30 vocabulary words I have mastered - so I was pretty happy that with a lot of gesturing and emphasis on "big, big water" -  they eventually understood that shellfish are not native to Afghanistan.

My second favorite moment was watching the afghans watching the two female members of the Korean Tae Kwon Doo team. While somewhat more discrete than the likewise appreciative US audience, (who I have known to show their cultural sensitivity by cat-calling based on glimpses of ankles) more than one afghan stood to get a better view, and may not have blinked during the entire show.

Tricks and HIGH Kicks

In short - it was a really enjoyable day - far preferable than the one had by my colleagues in Kabul who (thank you for asking/checking) are all fine - but who spent their afternoon/evening in "hardened structures" while the attack/publicity stunt was resolved.

In closing, I would note for the record that cat-calling, however enthusiastic and colorful it may be, is generally ineffective when done from inside an MRAP.

The Afghans also seem to like the "Fighting" pose

Getting in Good with the Green Suits

I've had a chance to spend some extra time with my green suit friends off the Korean PRT, and while I miss Tae Kwon Doo class, and the sticky rice at every meal (that is actually not tongue-in-cheek-BTW) it has been tremendously satisfying to bond with my fellow americans - particularly since I'm a diplomatic island among a sea of gun-toting green suits.

Dinner with New Korean Colleagues



I am convinced that by embracing and decoding two central tenets of military life I have somehow become more acceptable to my colleagues. As my faithful readers know, and any new readers can see in the side column, I have dedicated myself to mastering the art of acronymology. Additionally, while I am still in need of the 3 day training course (again not kidding) that my military colleagues got on PowerPoint, I have practiced working on my "slide decks" - mostly by stealing from the immense numbers of crazy-good presentations that are in circulation.  My epiphany came last night as I was struggling through what I must confess was a pretty lame slide trying to cram my verbiage into the proper box using the regulation sized font. Without even noticing it I dropped some juicy acronyms IOT make the text fit. Then I realized that the acronym addiction is actually a defense mechanism that has evolved ISO PowerPoint... IOW the poor guys are just trying to get the dumb slide done and can't do that Hemingway-style.

Anyhow, it's a lot of fun to hang out here as an only slightly-persecuted minority. The military has a good sense of humor, and (witness the photo) keeps a surprisingly Feng Shui environment. It is tiring to share the same few hundred square feet, seeing the same people in the cube next to you, at the dining hall, in the gym, by the shower, and next to you at the "internet cafe" which is the skype (and blog) bridge to the outside world.  Of necessity, they are very good at being friendly and engaged 95% of the time, and studiously oblivious/disengaged when their neighbor is having an emotional chat with family, arguing with a credit card company, doing some ahhh personal shopping online, or otherwise in need of personal space. In the absence of actual privacy, it is instead created by the unspoken agreement and comraderie of the troops. It's pretty effective actually - though I see it is vulnerable to ruination by a bad apple or two.

Feng Shui Meets Afghanistan



At any rate - I'm happy to have the variety of companionship, and as a joint US-Afghan facility I have the bonus opportunity to spend more time with "real afghans" - which is rewarding in both personally and professionally. More on that later.

Typical Meeting with GIRoA

Beautiful Rain

As I approached my two month mark in Afghanistan I decided that while I'm all for sunny days, I am also in favor of clouds and rain.  I know there are far hotter, sandier, dustier places all around me, and feel lucky to have landed in the relatively temperate climate I live in. Nonetheless, I was still very glad when my first Afghan raindrops began to fall. After turning my face to the clouds and feeling the cool moisture I realized that it was full of dirt and pollution from nearby Kabul, and I headed inside. The day of rain both dropped the temperature and removed the haze of dust that hangs over what I am coming to think of as my valley. 

Before

After

(and JICUWW that's an Afghan Police vehicle not my ride)

Luckily, I had a chance to head up into the mountains before the dust cloud rises again, and enjoy the notably greener scenery. It was an enjoyable ride with my U.S. military colleagues who have won their place as my preferred escort service (please don't take that the wrong way) by A: enjoying the ride themselves and keeping up a steady stream of comprehensible if often nonsensical commentary B: always having some tunes running in the background.  As is often the case I was crashing their party, making use of their transport to get to places and people that are of interest to me in my focus on governance and development (gov/dev). However, the line between security and gov/dev gets blurred early and often here, and I'm often able to pick up useful gov/deve information from "security" contacts, and pass on information of use to my military colleagues that I picked up from gov/dev contacts.  While things are never perfect and there are times when information doesn't flow - I have been extremely pleased and impressed with the effort and results of the USG here in sharing resources, information, contacts and "airtime" during KLEs to help each other get their respective (and interlocking) jobs done.

My Colleagues at Work

One of the more interesting questions we face is how to support the efforts of GIRoA in places where their hold on authority is tenuous (or worse). There is a constant pressure and temptation to offer solutions and resources, and an equal and opposite pressure to apply a rigorous reality/sanity check on those good intentions we have given both the lessons of history and the reality of our limitations and end goal of supporting GIRoA not supplanting them.

I continue to hope that I will not use my (now stale) previous training as an EMT, but in my dealings here I HAVE found myself clinging to the mantra of first responders.

 "First do no harm"

Getting Ready to Dismount 

Final note for my valued colleagues: JICUWW = just in case you were wondering

A Day in the Life

I've got a few things I've been meaning to write about, but I lack both the intellectual energy, and the right photos to go along.

Consequently, you're getting stuck with a boring post about a regular day - and the fun, frustration and monotony that make it Afghanistan.

An average day starts at 0600 on the irregular occasions when I have the mental discipline to get up when my alarm goes off.  More often I torture the other residents of my building (which is surrounded by rocket-proof cement barriers, but has pretty flimsy inside walls) by hitting the snooze until somewhere between 0700 and 0730.

On a day of good mental discipline, I will get out for a run, circling the large compound and trying to psych myself up for the substantial slope that is really a gratuitous insult given that we are already at over 5,000 feet.  By 0530 you need sunglasses, and by 0730 you (by which I mean I) don't want to be starting a run, as it's getting over 90 and the wind is kicking up.

View On a Clear Day

By 0800 I've usually gotten full enjoyment from what, I will simply call generous arrangements for handling my daily ablutions, during which time I take pity on colleagues who walk substantial distances (uphill both ways barefoot in the snow) to use less functional facilities. Then I start my commute to work.

Approximately 47 seconds later I have unlocked my office door and settled into my office.

 A More Average Day - but a Better Viewing Angle

I then start the process of trolling through four, yes four, different computer systems plus additional databases to collect and disseminate information. There are actually good reasons for this, and I can't complain too much, since a good portion of what I "bring to the fight" is an ability to access, prioritize, analyze and utilize information from these various sources to provide new insights and guide decisions on how we promote governance and development in my AOR (Area of Responsibility).

The "fog of war" can most definitely extend to the areas of governance and development which I cover, so sorting out what is a worthwhile endeavor and what is a an attractive sounding, but ultimately fruitless effort can be quite difficult. With challenges in moving around, people changing jobs, and speaking various languages, getting the government, a community, and the foreign entity and associated military contingent on "the same sheet of music" can be taxing. Luckily, there's not that much else to do. 

Garden Art

One of the nicer things to do is eat, which I do regularly. The astute reader will notice that I didn't mention breakfast at the cafeteria.  I can explain in three words.  Banana soy milk.  OK, it's not much of an explanation, but my morning is based on BSM (I am now creating acronyms for the sole purpose of confusing military colleagues who are so accustomed to not knowing an acronym that they usually just nod along). BSM is a heavenly concoction that arrives by the case, and which is NOT favored by my green-suited brethren who prefer the vanilla and chocolate varieties. As a result, I have an unlimited supply, which I use to put on my breakfast cereal, and in my morning coffee.

Lunch and dinner I'm at the DFAC without fail - chopstix in hand. There is rice at every meal (including the breakfast I usually skip) which I always have, and soup, which I'm sorry to report I only rarely have. Having never been much of a soup guy, not gotten the "fish bug", and often having no need to add calories by the time I reach the soup station at the end of the buffet, I only take advantage when I can A: accurately identify the contents as non-fish, non-intestine, non-kneecap gristle, you get the point - and B: confirm that the spice they almost always put in it is four alarm or below...  Soup issues aside, I have not yet struck out in the buffet lottery, and there is usually one or more exceptional dish, most often featuring my youngest son's favorite delicacy, shrimp.

Working day part 1 usually runs to about 1600 - when it is time for PT.  I am now in the enviable position of having two excellent PT options that not only provide good exercise, they offer the far more critical social pressure to show up and do the exercise. My long-term commitment is to a Tae Kwon Doo class with an excellent and very patient instructor who is gracious enough to offer the instruction in return for nothing more than some pointers on his strong, but occassionally accented english. The alternative is an afternoon soccer match with the ROK military.  Despite my miserable soccer skills, this is an enjoyable alternative, as it both broadens my ridiculously small social circle here, and helps develop civ-mil relationships. As bad as my ball handling is, I can still outrun most of the others, and at least get myself between the ball and the goal.  Of course the end result of that during the last game was accidentally getting my hand in the way of the ball and giving the opposition a penalty shot and goal...  Oh well

Anyhow - after exercise, a shower and dinner, work phase 2 kicks in, with a review and report of the day and preparation for events the next day.  Phase 2 is livened up by calls home, working on personal projects (like this one), and general goofing off.  On weekends (which I declare and cancel arbitrarily for myself) I catch a flick using a projector intended to stave off withdrawal symptoms among my military colleagues whose addiction to PowerPoint is something I am slowly coming to admire.

Then it's back to my hooch for a bit of reading, and lights out.  G'nite

 I just like this picture