That was quick,...

It was almost short enough not to notice, except of course for the whole Afghanistan thing happening all around me. Still it was (or will turn out to be) eleven days away from home, almost too short to even bother with.

But bother I do, because that's where the job sends me, and I tend to like the job, despite some less than desirable situations.

The biggest difference between this and the other trips here was that there's a cute puppydog sleeping at my feet, a gift to the Contractor from the local Afghan Nation Army commander. [How could he say no? She's cute. The commander has hundred of armed tropps,...] I'm not sure if Socks has selected my desk because she likes me, or because it's 30 degrees cooler in the office than outside.

This time, my direct report is the Contractor, who has a somewhat varied motivation when compared to my usual client, now the contractor's client, and still your government. Ultimately, I'm committed to the old health, safety, and welfare thing, but my current employer has a rather specific contract and, despite some obvious changes that could save the taxpayer some sheckles or better coordinate the work with a number of future projects in the area, I really can't add to or modify the project (i.e., the contract).

Mostly because changes at this point in the game all have time consequences and, as they say, time is money. We could develop the best project ever, but if it comes in two months later, how will the intended missions be supported? The change in attitude is just about wearing a different hat, and my suitcase is full of hats. Right now, hats and clothes and tools and personal protective gear and everything else that I brought over here, in anticipation of my flight out in a little over three hours.

What gets left behind this time is a Kandahar that's even larger and more congested than before, as more and more personnel, materiel and materials get deposited here every day. Two new PX's opened since I was here in May, to cater to the larger populations. There's the Kandahar Hotel where, for a mere $160 a night, you can get a ten foot square space in a C-can with a shared bath. There's a three month waiting list for this level of luxury.

In case you don't need to sleep, the local Green Bean now serves what they call the MOAC (Mother of all Coffees), four shots of espresso topped off with their house blend. For now, I'm sticking with the Latte. Tim Hortons continues to do a brisk business, and I usually brought back some tasty Canook donuts to the crew each morning, doing what I could to move the process forward.

I enjoyed the relative luxury of the Contractor's camp for this last week. The private room. The better quality DFAC. My assigned vehicle. The shady piazza. Sadly, they just cleaned and filled the pool last night, so I won't have a chance to go for a dip before I leave. I'll save that for Dubai, where I'll crash at a downtown hotel for the ten hours I have between flights.

I stumbled across a Helen Keller quote the other day (get it? "stumbled across"? she's blind? I swear,...) that seems apt, "Life is either a daring adventure or nothing."

Homebound now, and looking forward to the next one.
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And then there was two

Got an email the other day, asking if I'd consider 6-12 months in Bahrain. My first reaction was instant rejection. It's 115 degrees in the shade here - how bad would it be closer to both the equator and the sea? Of course, it would be an assignment on a tropical island, and I do seem to like those.

Ultimately, I resolved to maintain my initial reaction, and hold out for a better tropical island assignment. Bahrain would certainly be interesting, but stifling could describe it as well.

Definitely stifling here today, but a full five degrees cooler than yesterday. Having little to accomplish, I headed out to the project site, and watch the surveyors host a goat rope, then observed some 12" slump (self leveling) concrete get placed as a foundation slab, and a wheeled excavator trench through a half meter of moon dust.

By then, it was barely 1000, and I had the rest of the day to fill. How I actually made it to the end is still somewhat of a mystery, but I think I can attribuite it to the selective amnesia from which some trauma patients are known to suffer. Tomorrow,... more of the same.


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Ho Hum

Friday, now, I'm pretty sure. If there's any change to the days here, it's Friday, when local labor takes the day off, some outfits take a half day, and the bazaar's in town. I slept in, somewhat intentionally.

My plan was simply to sleep until I got up, and to throw off the last of the nine and a half hours of jet lag that followed me here. Simple enough, but at 0330, some joker in the war department decided that a half hour of outbound artillery would be a nice diversion, and it took a little while for me to recognize the specific boom of rounds leaving the KAF.

At that point, I could again drift off, and stayed drifted until 0900. Not really sleeping until noon, but the best I could muster. Perhaps I'll do better tomorrow, although I likely won't benefit from the late night of socializing I enjoyed on Thursday.

Another benefit of my current situation is that, on many Thursdays [They say "many", but I shouldn't be here except for the one.], nice bar-be-ques are convened at a couple of rotating locations. The menu's simple - meat on the barby - served on some of the local flatbread. The guest list was more varied, including logistics contractors, service contractors, education and training contractors, heavy contractors, and a couple of high ranking officers of the Afghan National Army Special Forces brigade, which is situated right next door.

I'd like to mention that there were a couple of cold beers, but I won't be mentioning that (the slushy Tiger Lagers), because we don't drink here,... especially the high ranking officers of the Afghan National Army Special Forces brigade, which is situated right next door.

Regardless, I got to sleep in, accomplishing another goal, then processed the emails that came in overnight (turning down six months to a year in Bahrain), typed a memo, and tried to get the local phone to work. This afternoon, I'll head to a brief meeting, then to the bazaar to look around, then to the PX for a cigar.

Big plans.
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Afghanland III

I thought "Afghanland 3 - The Redemption" would be a cool title for this one but, as it turns out, there's still little that is actually redeeming at Kandahar. Sort of like "Terminator 3: Redemption" or "Kickboxer 5: The Redemption", but probably more like "Rock Bottom - From Hell to Redemption", where Jason Mewes tries to kick Heroin.

Why can't I quit this place? 'Cuz it's fun. "It's a blast", sings Jello Biafra. Actually, he sings "Tomorrow you're homeless. Tonight it's a blast!" But who's picking nits.

Big changes here in the past three months. For one, is about a thousand degrees hotter than when I left here in May. Every day is above 100 (er,... 1000), and the air conditioners have a most difficult time keeping up with it. Construction continues apace throughout the base, with new shelters and housing and stuff all getting built at once.

They've even added short block walls to the interiors of each of the DFACs, to subdivide the space and increase PAX blast protection.

The biggest change is that this time, I'm working for one of the many contractors here, coordinating the design of some big thing between him and the design team back in the States. As it turns out, one minute after I stepped off of the plane here, I became the Companyman with the most experience in country. Hopefully, it won't turn into anything more than a fleeting honor, as I'd much rather be known as the Companyman who has the most time on a tropical island.

The hugest change is in the accommodations. This time, I've got a 40 foot C-can (we used to call them "CONEX Boxes", but that is *so* last quarter) to myself - bedroom, private bath, lounge. There's another bedroom, but noone lives there this week. This place is comparably sized to Miss Liberty, my trailer on Lincoln Swing, although my current blue and white vinyl walls and ceiling still pale in comparison to her green shag, floor-to-wall-to-ceiling carpeting.

And I got a vehicle assigned. A right drive Toyota. Not that I need to drive anywhere, but I've got one, just in case. Of course, I could drive to a more distant DFAC if I wanted to, or use it to haul donuts to the office. Probably use it to tool around aimlessly, as my legendary efficiency has resulted in me being about done with my assigned tasks, just one day into a one week gig.

I brought some books, figuring this would be the case.
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