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.