Chow, "rats", whatever you want to call it, Eating in a war zone is an interesting experience. Kind of. Remember when you were in grade school, and you sat in the cafeteria at those long tables with a bunch of kids that you didnt know, and the kid who eats paste ALWAYS sat by you and picked his nose while you were eating your pudding cup? Well, it's sort of like that, but with adults. The "DFAC" or "Dining Facility" (yes, they really do have acronyms for everything) is arranged somewhat like a cafeteria with several lines in which you can go and grab food of your choiced, Well sort of. It's kind of like this
Line 1: "Short Order" Line: mini pizzas, wings, corn dogs, french fries, onion rings, and for some reason, various kinds of pie reside in this line.
Line 2. "Main Line" Usually some kind of "meat", a vegetable medley and there is always, always, always mashed potatos and rice. Oh? you want Lasagna? Would you like a side of mashed potatoes to go with that? Meatloaf, Turkey cutlets, corn, broccoli, collard greens.. I have occasionally seen a chicken cordon bleu in this line.
Line 3 and 4 Specialty Line(s) which are a different food each day of the week, which is what I actually wrote this article for to begin with. Behold, my friends, the foods from around the world that make up our speciality lines!
Monday-Mongolian BBQ- this is popular, and has a strange about of vegetables and shredded lettuce for bbq
Tuesday- I am off on Tuesday, so I really have no idea.
Wednesday Surf and Turf- which sounds good, but really isnt. They serve prime rib but cook it waaaaaaaaay too much and the "surf" always feels like it has beeb marinating in the sun in toilet water for three weeks. I hate seafood as it stands, but the smell of this seafood makes me want to gag.
Thursday Italian Food Usually consists of spagetti with meat sauce or marinara and meat balls, egg noodles with alfredo sauce, eggplant lasagna and vegetable lasagna. Why is there no meat lasagna? I don't know. But the same thing happens every week. One of my co-workers walks up behind me in line, looks to see if there is meat lasagna, and proceeds to get pissed because there isn't. I mean, you think he would learn after the first few times. But alas, I digress...
Friday Indian Food. This is the night we wait for all week. The Indian food night is the best food here, by far. I have noticed Chicken and Beef Curry (ill get to that in a second) Biranyi Rice, Bhruna Beef (sic) and fresh, handmade parathas (yum!)
Now, the Indian food is extremely good, lots of flavor, they always use just the right amount of spices and the smell is wonderful. BUT, this Indian food is made by INDIANS. From INDIA. Like, India. The country. Not Patel's Indian restauraunt up the block. No. India, friends. So the food is very, very, VERY spicy. Every single week when I eat the Indian food, I immediately feel like someone dropped a stack of hot coals in my stomach. Hot coals that are now being digested by my stomach acid. EVERY single week without fail, I say "I am never eating the Indian food ever ever again!" Then I go back for more sweet, sweet torture the next week. Why do I do it? Because the food is bitchin', that's why.
Saturday- Filipino Food I had the filipino food once, I wasnt that impressed, so I have nothing to say about it at this time. They have lumpias, which are pretty good.
After writing this, I realized that I should have just wrote the whole article about the Indian food. Oh well. But anyway, there is a "taste" of what it's like to eat here in on Joint Base Balad.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Good People, Part I
Let's be serious for a minute here, people. I want to introduce you to a future nobel peace prize winner, and possibly the kindest person I have ever met.
His name is Emmanuel Sackey, and he is a 35 year old father of three. He currently lives in Kansas City, MO, but he is Originally from Ghana. In case you are not familiar with Ghana, it is a country in West Africa that borders the Côte d'Ivoire, Burkina Faso and Togo with a population of about 24 million people of several different tribes. Ghana is one of the most successful examples of a constitutional democracy in all of Africa.
"There is an old African story," Emmanuel tells me, "A man once lost his job, and deep in despair, goes to a tree to hang himself. He takes off all of his clothes and leaves them in a pile and then climbs the tree."
"As the man gets ready to hang himself, another man, poor, starving, dirty and wearing rags, happens upon the pile of clothes under the tree, and immediately drops to his knees in thanks. 'Oh lord, I have been hoping and praying every day that I would find some new clothes! Thank you for answering my prayers!'. The man then puts on the clothes and walks away, a happy man."
"The man in the tree is then reminded that he has a home, he has a family, he has something to eat, he has many things to be thankful for.. this other man had nothing, and the clothes were an answer to his prayers."
The Story is was told to Emmanuel by his father to illustrate that someone out there always has it worse than you do. This is one of the first stories that Emmanuel told me, and I have to say, after talking to him, my world perspective has changed quite a bit. It is truly amazing what we as Americans take for granted.
I was also shocked to learn (sarcasm) that what we hear on the news about Africa isnt always the whole story. We here all about the poverty, the violence, the political unrest, rampant disease, and so on. We don't hear much about the culture or customs of Africa. We definitely dont hear about the people of Africa, who according to Emmanuel, have a profound understanding and appreciation for family and community that Americans seem to have lost somewhere.
"Everyone in your neighborhood, they all know you," He says "You walk by someone on the street and you say hello to them."
At home, meals specifically in a typical African household are a shared experience. Everyone sits together and eats around a table, discussing their day and spending time with their family. Actually, pretty much everything in Africa is a family affair.
His name is Emmanuel Sackey, and he is a 35 year old father of three. He currently lives in Kansas City, MO, but he is Originally from Ghana. In case you are not familiar with Ghana, it is a country in West Africa that borders the Côte d'Ivoire, Burkina Faso and Togo with a population of about 24 million people of several different tribes. Ghana is one of the most successful examples of a constitutional democracy in all of Africa.
"There is an old African story," Emmanuel tells me, "A man once lost his job, and deep in despair, goes to a tree to hang himself. He takes off all of his clothes and leaves them in a pile and then climbs the tree."
"As the man gets ready to hang himself, another man, poor, starving, dirty and wearing rags, happens upon the pile of clothes under the tree, and immediately drops to his knees in thanks. 'Oh lord, I have been hoping and praying every day that I would find some new clothes! Thank you for answering my prayers!'. The man then puts on the clothes and walks away, a happy man."
"The man in the tree is then reminded that he has a home, he has a family, he has something to eat, he has many things to be thankful for.. this other man had nothing, and the clothes were an answer to his prayers."
The Story is was told to Emmanuel by his father to illustrate that someone out there always has it worse than you do. This is one of the first stories that Emmanuel told me, and I have to say, after talking to him, my world perspective has changed quite a bit. It is truly amazing what we as Americans take for granted.
I was also shocked to learn (sarcasm) that what we hear on the news about Africa isnt always the whole story. We here all about the poverty, the violence, the political unrest, rampant disease, and so on. We don't hear much about the culture or customs of Africa. We definitely dont hear about the people of Africa, who according to Emmanuel, have a profound understanding and appreciation for family and community that Americans seem to have lost somewhere.
"Everyone in your neighborhood, they all know you," He says "You walk by someone on the street and you say hello to them."
At home, meals specifically in a typical African household are a shared experience. Everyone sits together and eats around a table, discussing their day and spending time with their family. Actually, pretty much everything in Africa is a family affair.
Monday, January 18, 2010
10 things to bring to Iraq that weren't included in your packing list...
Things you absolutely can not live without. Please enjoy my half-joking, half serious list of things you will need.
1. Earplugs, or ideally, noise-cancelling headphones to drown out the sound of the guy in the CHU next door playing country music.
2. Lysol disinfectant spray, Antibacterial hand wipes, hand sanitizer and latex gloves to take to the bathroom with you. Well, really to take everywhere with you.
3. A waterproof, medium weight jacket that will KEEP YOU WARM in the winter, and KEEP YOU DRY when it rains. Yes, it gets cold AND rains here.
4. Several plug adapters that will fit into a british style plug, but you can plug american appliances into.
5. Dual voltage appliances.
6. If you are a smoker (really, you should quit) but like, a year's supply of cigarettes. The PX constantly runs out. Cigarettes are like gold when they do, you can sell them for like 10 bucks a pack. Its a nice little side profit.
7.Comfortable, Durable, waterproof, dirt colored or brown boots. or shoes, if you can find them. If you can, just buy the ones out of the PX that the army wears. They are ugly as sin, but they are comfortable and they get the job done.
8. A set of sheets, a pillow and a blanket. Keep them as compact as possible, so try to get something small. During transit specifically you will need them several times.
9. Something to cover your nose and mouth during a sandstorm, or when you encounter a sick person during flu season. Seriously, I got the swine flu. It was awful.
10. A Camera to take pictures of all the crazy shit that you see while here.
1. Earplugs, or ideally, noise-cancelling headphones to drown out the sound of the guy in the CHU next door playing country music.
2. Lysol disinfectant spray, Antibacterial hand wipes, hand sanitizer and latex gloves to take to the bathroom with you. Well, really to take everywhere with you.
3. A waterproof, medium weight jacket that will KEEP YOU WARM in the winter, and KEEP YOU DRY when it rains. Yes, it gets cold AND rains here.
4. Several plug adapters that will fit into a british style plug, but you can plug american appliances into.
5. Dual voltage appliances.
6. If you are a smoker (really, you should quit) but like, a year's supply of cigarettes. The PX constantly runs out. Cigarettes are like gold when they do, you can sell them for like 10 bucks a pack. Its a nice little side profit.
7.Comfortable, Durable, waterproof, dirt colored or brown boots. or shoes, if you can find them. If you can, just buy the ones out of the PX that the army wears. They are ugly as sin, but they are comfortable and they get the job done.
8. A set of sheets, a pillow and a blanket. Keep them as compact as possible, so try to get something small. During transit specifically you will need them several times.
9. Something to cover your nose and mouth during a sandstorm, or when you encounter a sick person during flu season. Seriously, I got the swine flu. It was awful.
10. A Camera to take pictures of all the crazy shit that you see while here.
PTSD and YOU
The very first day I got into Iraq, in 2005, I was not prepared. So, when I got off the plane (after a COMBAT LANDING, I might add) and saw a gigantic fireball hurling through the sky, I about wet my pants. Well, that hurling fireball ended up being an afterburner from an F-16. Now, whenever I see an F-16 at night, I think of this and giggle a little.
No amount of training, or if you're me, news-watching and thinking you are worldly, can prepare you for coming to a war zone. The only thing you learn from going through Rapid Deployment Screening in the US is that the being in the Army SUCKS and you're glad you're not in the Army. Trust me, you dont want to have to deal with this full time. (This is the one time in my LIFE that I am glad that I had bilateral kidney stones that prevented me from getting into the Army)
But the minute you step off the plane and you're up to your ankles in sand, surrounded by miltary tactical vehicles and people with loaded weapons, it kind of hits you.. "Oh shit! I can DIE here!, like, for real die!"
No amount of training, or if you're me, news-watching and thinking you are worldly, can prepare you for coming to a war zone. The only thing you learn from going through Rapid Deployment Screening in the US is that the being in the Army SUCKS and you're glad you're not in the Army. Trust me, you dont want to have to deal with this full time. (This is the one time in my LIFE that I am glad that I had bilateral kidney stones that prevented me from getting into the Army)
But the minute you step off the plane and you're up to your ankles in sand, surrounded by miltary tactical vehicles and people with loaded weapons, it kind of hits you.. "Oh shit! I can DIE here!, like, for real die!"
Unless you have been in a life or death situation before, this is a frightening moment for you. I can not explain to you what it is like to taste your own mortality for the first time. And despite what the salty dogs tell you, even the pogues/FOBbits/whatever they call those who stay inside the wire now are in significant, if not immanent danger.
Despite the brave front that even the most manly and seasoned of soldier/contractor will put on for you, a mortar/rocket attack is SCARY. It's loud, it shakes the ground, if you're close enough, sometimes there is a big flaming ball when it hits the ground, there is shrapnel... people die and are injured all the time from mortar and rocket attacks. Even when the anti-rocket artillery blasts that shit right out of the sky it makes a sickening screeching sound like god is farting( imagine if god farted. seriously, that is what it sounds like). This is accompanied by fireballs and explosions in the sky. I don't care WHO you are, what you've been through, that is some scary shit. Think about it for a minute.. someone just tried to KILL you. Like, literally. You escaped death, congratulations.
Of course, the only way anyone can really get through the day out here is to pretend it doesnt bother them. The other day I was sitting in the truck by the DFAC waiting for the rest of my crew to get back from getting their food. Just as they walked up, the anti-rocket artillery went off, and I jumped a little bit. One of them was like "HAHAHAHAH ANDREA! You LOSER! Its just the C-RAM!!!!" Which of course, I then played off like it was no big deal. Its actually a running joke that if the alarms go off and we are in our CHU, most of us seasoned Iraqi veterans just listen to make sure they're aren't insurgents jumping the fence, and then roll over and go back to sleep. I honestly don't know ANYONE who actually goes to the bunker. A few weeks ago me and a co-worker were outside the PX and the alarms went off, and the security guys at the PX told us to get in the bunker, which we did, bitching with the 20 other people trying to get into the PX at the time. It smells like pee in there! Of course, there is always that one asshole who is like " I would rather smell pee then be dead." This guy is always a n00b.
What I am getting at here is humor and .. well.. I suppose avoidance.. is really a coping mechanism when you are out in the desert. I mean, yeah, after being here for awhile, you develop a routine that you're comfortable with. That routine might involve rolling over and going back to sleep when the alarms go off, or that routine may be carrying your IBA and Kevlar with you to the shower. There are many, many variables that affect your routine and how safe you feel.
It's when you get home that you start to feel weird. You can drive more than a mile without going off post and getting killed by an IED attack? no way! Indoor Plumbing? How can this be?? The real world seems strange and foreign. You find yourself on the ground after hearing a car backfire in the Wal-mart parking lot. Seriously.. you yell "incoming" and everything. Your friends or family all look at you like you've completely lost it, not to mention the hundreds of wal-mart shoppers turned spectators to your freakshow. Trust me when I say it will be a long, long time before you can go to sleep without that little voice in the back of your head warning you to remain vigilant. The only thing you can do at that point is just laugh it off with your friends who have been to Iraq and make sure you're really drunk on any occasion that requires fireworks.
....To Be Continued (Maybe)
Sandstorm! (Cue The Music)
So, My third time in the middle East, and I finally get to experience a sandstorm. I really don't know what to say about it, other than it was like rain, only sand. Just as I expected.
The thing about sand-rain is that it when it gets into your eyes, that shit hurts! I was sitting outside before work, and I put my glasses on to keep the sand out. That didnt work, so I put my sunglasses over it. Then I noticed sand was starting to stick in my hair so I covered up my head with a scarf, and put a hat on top of that. But of course, sand starting getting into my mouth and nose, so I covered up my face with this my jacket. Finally, about twenty minutes later I said screw it and went back inside.
The most interesting part is using the Porta Potty when there is a sandstorm. Now, normally I got to the porta potty armed with a can of lysol disinfecting spray, hand sanitizer and antibacterial wipes. Laugh it up! If it were you, you would be in a full MOP suit, those things are discusting... anyway I digress..
So when there is a sandstorm, its insanely windy and there is sand everywhere, including all over the toilet seat in the porta potties. So instead of my normal hover (ladies, you know just what I mean) I have to kind of.. well, stand up and pee like a guy. So I assume a wide stance over the potty and try to aim without falling in and getting my butt all sandy. Let me tell you, this takes talent. The whole time, the porta potty is rocking back and forth with the wind AND I am praying that the door doesnt come flying open, at least until I have my pants up. I would just hold it shut, but, well..I dont want to touch the door. It's nasty!
You think that's bad? try doing it in the dark.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
