Outside the wire, my first mission

"Tomorrow morning, you are going out on convoy," my sergeant told me.

A grin spread across my face. I had been working hard nearly nonstop on building and stocking the new Battalion Aid Station here on Mehtar Lam. While I found the work rewarding, I was dying to go outside the FOB on mission and see more of the country. The moment had come, and I couldn't hide my satisfaction.

"Sounds awesome Sergeant!" I said.

"Good, I want to see you there by 0800."

Yes! Finally! I returned to my hooch and started preparing my combat load for mission. I had a hard time falling asleep that night. The next morning I went to chow at about 0730,

"Davis! SP got moved up an hour! Move with a purpose!" said my sergeant.

I slammed my breakfast down my gullet and started helping with the preparation for the mission. I would be driving the medical Humvee on this mission. Our medical Humvee has the back seats taken out and a backboard for a patient added. We loaded our medical bags, water, and ammo. We tested our radios and headsets and mounted a machine gun on top of the Humvee. After a briefing we were loaded and ready to roll. I took all instruction from my sergeant,

"Okay this bitch weighs an extra 5,000 pounds from the armor plating. They put a turbo in the engine to compensate which helps some but the roads out here are brutal. Are you ready?"

"Yes," I lied. It's hard to be ready for something you have never done before but I banked on the fact that I am a quick learner.

"If you have ever gotten an aggressive driving or speeding ticket, today would be the time to use those skills," my sergeant added with a chuckle.

I eased us into motion in line with the other trucks. I hit the brake as the convoy slowed and my gunner slammed forward in his turret as the truck jerked to a stop. 'Sensitive brakes,' I made a mental note as I apologized to my gunner for checking him against his machine gun. We halted at the gate just inside the FOB walls. The order was given to "go red." I pulled back the charging handle on my rifle and released. The bolt neatly scooped and seated a round in the chamber with a satisfying clack. I drew my pistol and pulled the slide back, I saw a flash of brass as I released and chambered a bullet. I returned the pistol to my holster. This is the real deal, I thought. I felt tense but focused. I was nervous but it made me alert. The truck ahead of me started rolling, I hit the gas.

Once we left the gate there was no slowing down. We were the last truck in the convoy and my sergeant was hollering at me to keep up. I punched the gas and felt the turbo kick in. For weighing over 10,000 pounds it responded pretty well. I was careening down a dusty dirt road that wound it's way through the farms and huts outside the base. The road itself was atrocious, there were ridges and potholes everywhere, I told my gunner to hold on as I worked to maintain the right gap in the convoy. The closer I came to downtown Mehtar Lam the more crowded the road was. A small taxi started to ease it's way back into the road as I approached. Instinct moved my foot off of the gas,

"HONK YOUR FUCKING HORN! HIT THE GAS THEY'LL MOVE, TRUST ME!!!" I heard in my headset.

I laid on the horn and put the pedal to the floor. Sure enough, the taxi moved right out of my way. If I had to put my money on a four-wheel-drive armored Humvee vs. Toyota sedan in a crash, I'd take the Humvee. I think the locals would too. When we roll we roll in the middle of the road, no matter what. People move for Americans, not the other way around, and as I said before we don't slow down for anyone. All of these measures are for security. If we stopped for every obstruction or slowed for every donkey cart it would be that much easier to target a truck with a roadside IED(improvised explosive device) or a rocket launcher. In Iraq, terrorists would intentionally place children in the street to stop a convoy for an attack or robbery.

We cruised through a crowded market and made a short halt. We headed about a mile down the road and took a sharp right. I saw as the lead truck drove up and over the curb and onto a dirt road that wound sharply up the side of a mountain. The Humvee swayed as I cleared the curb and began my ascent. I saw the road rise at a sharp angle in front of me.

"Hit the gas! Get a running start or we'll get stuck halfway up!"

I shifted down and hit the gas. Slowly but surely, we climbed. About halfway up I looked to my right and realized that I was on a one-lane dirt road, barely wide enough for a Humvee and there was no guardrail. This road was designed for donkey carts. A vision jumped in my head of the right tire accidentally getting to close to the edge. I visualized the dirt road giving way to a giant armor plated truck rolling down the mountainside. I snapped my attention to the task at hand.

I made it to the top where the land flattened out to reveal a small village with several rock huts. We were high enough to see the lush green valley stretch below us. The convoy halted. Several villagers came out to speak with us and the local children came for the handouts which American soldiers always have. A young boy and girl approached our vehicle. My sergeant got out to say hello and, as a driver, I was required to stay inside. Now my sergeant has a real soft spot for kids. He melted when he saw their smiling faces. He started giving them everything he could, gum, change, all of his pens. I was worried he was going to give them his gun. I asked the little girl for a piece of the gum and traded her a bottle of water. As I popped the gum in my mouth I realized it had touched her grubby hands.

"I hope I don't get dysentery,"
"What?"
"Nothing."


The call was given and we headed back down the tiny dirt road on the mountainside. We traveled through Mehtar Lam and I couldn't ignore how absolutely gorgeous the country was. There were lush green fields, palm trees, and colorful bazaars. Many of the women were adorned with beautiful ice blue burqas. So beautiful in fact, my sergeant would make a comment every time he saw one. After the 27th time I heard,


"Man that is such a beautiful blue burqa! I am gonna get one for my wife."
"Will you shut up about the burqas already?" I replied.
"No! They are beautiful!"
"Yeah, and blue, I know."

We left the village and entered what became my favorite part of the drive. We cruised into a valley full of tall green grass. Several seemingly random roads interlaced as and cut through the grass fields. The convoy picked up speed and we were careening from road to road trying to keep up with the vehicle in front of us. I could see the wind rippling through the tall grass and the trail of dust we were kicking up. It was a beautiful day, and I was having a blast.

Bullets and Country Stars.

Names have been changed because of security rules.

It was our fifth night of tower guard. So far the week had been pretty quiet. A few nights before an Afghan National Army soldier had accidentally fired off a burst of rounds inside the FOB. We usually don't expect gunfire from inside the wire but once we found out it was an accident we relaxed. Night fell.

2400 hours

My guard buddy Gurd and I sat, taking turns scanning the village in front of us with our night vision goggles. Everything is dark green through night vision. Then as soon as you take them off it is pitch black. The radio cackled,

"S.O.G.(Sergeant of Guard) this is tower five, over."

"Tower five this is S.O.G, go ahead."

"S.O.G. we just saw a three round burst of tracer fire in the sky."

Gunfire wasn't common at night, but it wasn't uncommon either. We didn't think much of it.

0112 hours

Gurd and I were watching and laughing about something when we heard two distant bursts of machine gun fire. I grabbed the radio.

"S.O.G. this is tower one, we just heard several rounds fired over a mile away at our 10 o' clock over."

"Tower one this is S.O.G. roger that keep me informed. S.O.G. out."

0153 hours

I sat on the bench with my night vision as Gurd rested on the stained, beat up cot behind me. After midnight we had to take turns so we wouldn't both fall alseep around 3AM.

BEEP BEEP

The radio battery was starting to go. It would beep incessantly the worse it got. I should call the S.O.G. for a new one I thought to myself. My train of thought continued until it was derailed by a gunshot that rang out very close,

KRACK!

In a split second I visualized a rifle round coming into my tower and hitting me in my gigantic melon. I dropped out of my chair and got below the tower window.

KRACK! A second shot, yes that is definitely nearby.

"That was close, very close!" I heard Gerd say behind me. He scrambled to put all of his body armor back on while remaining kneeling on the floor. I had dropped my night vision in my rush to remove my head from the view of the tower window. I was trying to find the radio and my night vision at the same time. I found the radio first, I pressed the big black button on the side,

"S.O.G.! S.O.G.! We just hear-"

BEEP BEEP, BEEP BEEP

"STUPID PIECE OF SHIT!" I screamed, "Gurd help me find my nods!" Oh man where are my nods, where are my fucking nods?!

I found my nods and put them back on, we chambered a round in our rifles. I joined Gurd in peeking over the window ledge towards where the shots came from.

"Why are you on my window?!" he asked.

"I DON'T KNOW!"

"WELL GO TO THE OTHER WINDOW IN CASE THERE IS SOMEONE OVER THERE!!!"

"OKAY!"

On my crawl to the other window I stopped to report to the S.O.G. I hit the button to call,

"S.O.G. this is tower on-"

BEEP BEEP, BEEP BEEP, BEEP BEEP, BEEP BEEP

"GOD DAMN STUPID PIECE OF SHIT RADIO!" Gurd started laughing. I started laughing. Gerd added,

"Why did I pick this window? This window is where the shots came from! Hahahaha! Why am I on this window?"

"I DON'T KNOW!" I couldn't help laughing, "WHY ARE WE LAUGHING GERD?"

"I DON'T KNOW I'M SO SCARED!" yet we continued to laugh.

I finally got a hold of the S.O.G.on the radio.

"S.O.G. this is tower one we heard two shots fired very close at 2 o' clock in relation to our position!" The S.O.G. replied,

"I know I heard them inside my hooch."

"FUCK!" Gurd yelled from behind me.

"WHAT?!"

"No more sleep tonight, I guess," he said. Once again I couldn't help laughing. We both sat quiet for a few minutes, one on each side of the tower with our eyes barely over the edge of the windows. The rest of the night was quiet. Dawn came and revealed our bloodshot eyes. I stumbled to my hooch and laid in bed.

"Two more nights of tower," I thought.

The next day we sat down in good ol' tower one to begin our shift.

"You ready for another night Gurd?" I asked.

"Yeah let's just hope tonight is a lot slower than last night."

30 seconds later...

BOOM! We heard a distant blast.

"S.O.G. this is tower one..."

And now, ladies and gentleman, Toby Keith!

I don't even like country music...

21 was the longest year of my life

Usually when someone describes a year or years as "the longest of their life" it kind of has a negative connection. Example: "The year I spent in prsion was the longest year of my life." I, however, mean it in a very good way.

I turn 22 today and when I look back at my 21st birthday it feels like it was three years ago. I attribute this to the many many experiences I went through over the last twelve months. 21 marked the end of my six-month solderization process. It also marked the end to a very long, very serious relationship I was in. As I had been previously living with her, now I needed to find somewhere else to go. After separating with someone I had been close to for three years, emotionally I was crushed, I had just removed myself from the military environment, and I felt I had nowhere to go. I went home to get some time to collect myself.

I moved in with my parents in Prescott. I had almost no social network to speak of, I was reeling from a break-up, and after spending six months surrounded by my fellow comrades in training I found myself up late at night in a dark, quiet house and I was lonely, extremely lonely. During the day I was extremely restless, in training it was common to work 40-60 hours a week along with physical training five days per week. To occupy myself I threw myself into everything I could. I found two jobs, registered for a full schedule at school, got a gym membership, workout schedule, and unfortunately, threw myself headlong into a new, exciting relationship.

I was crossed and the relationship completely fell apart. Once again, I felt alone. I was so used to having a girl in my life to boost my confidence and self-esteem. Once that was gone again I began to compensate. My insecurity grew. Without a girlfriend I felt I had to prove I was attractive. I became a big asshole for awhile. I would brag, talk constantly about myself and the things I had accomplished. I would always take credit rather than let people give it to me. I would rub it in when I outperformed someone. And the worst thing I did, if I felt someone had some sort of dominance over me, I would harshly criticize them to soothe my own insecurity. Also, without a girlfriend to be considerate of, I focused all that consideration inward. I was completely selfish and impatient. I remember telling my Dad I wanted to go golfing with him and never did. I remember him asking me several times and I turned him down because I thought I had something more important to do socially. Looking back now, I remember Dad asking me and I can't remember a single thing I did when I told him no.

I was a damn jerk.

Then I started to question why I was driving all these people I cared about away from me. I began to become a little more self aware. A very good friend pointed me to the author Robert Greene. Much of his work deals with being self aware and controlling your emotions. I saw myself for what I was. I began the long process of eradicating all those horrible habits and over-compensations I had picked up. I remember talking to a good friend one day,

"I really haven't felt like my usual self lately," i said.

"Like, how haven't you felt like yourself?" she asked.

"Well there hasn't been anything usual about myself since before I went to basic training."

Changing as a person is great, I have gone through huge personal changes in the last year. The only problem is I lost my sense of identity sometimes. It really frightened me, and at times I would feel completely lost. But as I examined myself and read about some different perspectives, I found a goal and it wasn't until my friend Hager put a name on it that I realized what it was that I was working towards.

Ataraxia

-noun
-a state of freedom from emotional disturbance and anxiety; tranquillity

I feel like I have learned more in this last year about life than I did in the 21 years before.

Welcome to Methar Lam!

Finally. Mobilization began on Jan 3rd this year. I flew from Arizona to Ft. Bragg, NC. Then three weeks of training in Texas. Then a month BACK at Ft. Bragg. Then four days in Washington D.C. Then we departed Ft. Bragg for Maine, flew to Turkey, to Krzygstan, to Bahgram Afghanistan, then finally Methar Lam. Afghanistan is almost exactly halfway around the world from Arizona. The time difference is 12 and a half hours. So if I want to call someone back home I usually need to try at about 4-5AM because my work day starts at 6. But I digress.

After unloading the helicopter we formed up on a volleyball court. At least some people have fun, I thought. I scanned the area as our Captain droned on about the showers and types of shacks we would be living in. Immediately around the area was large HESCO barrier walls. The walls were made of square containers that were filled with dirt and stacked on top of each other. Printed on the side of each container in big blue letters was the word HESCO. Hence the name "HESCO barriers." The ground consisted entirely of dirt and gravel. I didn't see a single paved road. Immediately to my right was several rows of dark green tents. These were affectionately known as the "transient tents." Images of homeless bums leaped to mind as I was referred to as a "transient" for the first time in my life. I looked further and saw gently rolling green hills past the walls. Small tan huts and buildings broke up the hillsides as I took in the villages around me. Past those a mountain range rose sharply into the sky. The peaks were frosted with snow even though it was over 90 degrees where I stood. I quickly saw that we were completely surrounded by mountains. It was no surprise we chose to fly out by helicopter.

Over the next few days I familiarized myself with the FOB. There was the chow hall. A small building filled with locals cooking furiously under the direction of Army and Air Force cooks. The gym, I learned, was more than adequate as we had heard back in the states. I visited the Aid Station, where I learned I would be working, and found out we were moving into a new building. There was also the Rec Center with a room for phones and Internet. I am sitting there now, posting this blog. There is also a shower tent, toilet trailers, and a service where the locals do your laundry for you. I still haven't mentioned the most awesome feature of the FOB. One day we were outside the motor pool chatting when I looked past the group and noticed something odd. Inside a large metal storage container I saw two soldiers sitting. One had his shirt off and the other was leaning all over him. Then I saw a row of inks and a mirror. Someone was running a fucking tattoo parlor inside of a shipping container. It was awesome. What appeared to be gay soldier fraternization turned out to be an innocent tattoo.

Outside of our area on the other half of the FOB was the ANA base. ANA stands for Afghanistan National Army. We work with them sometimes but mostly stay on our side of the FOB. We did learn that a week earlier the ANA was attacked at the gate with a car bomb. Several Afghans were killed, including children. It was a very real reminder of what we had trained for. The Taliban are a terrible group who have no problem killing innocent children to spread terror and instability. I had a chance to speak with a medic who had treated the victims of the blast. He showed me the pictures of the dead and wounded. I had seen enough pictures of blood and guts to not be bothered by the images of mangled bodies of those who had perished only a week earlier. I felt a small pang of guilt for not empathizing with the dead I saw and for a lack of feeling disturbed by graphic images. In this line of work you really can't. Any day another suicide bomber could mangle more locals or fellow soldiers. If one came through the door of the Aid Station there would be no room for disgust or empathy. A medic has to be 100% focused on doing the right treatment at the right time.

My life is definitely much different here on Methar Lam compared to home. It's extremely hectic, busy, and at times, dangerous. But at the end of the day, the temperature cools to about 70 degrees. An extremely gentle breeze drifts across the FOB. I sit outside with a chair and watch a reverse sunset of sorts. Instead of watching the sun set, I face east and watch as the shadows get longer and longer until they slowly drift up the mountainside. The aid station is across from the chow hall and soldiers walking by gradually gather around to joke and talk until we have a small crowd. Eventually the twilight gives way to dark and everyone disperses.

As nice as home is, there is definitely some things I love about this place.

Holy crap this things gonna crash.

"So when are we leaving Bagram?" I asked.

"We are taking a helo out tomorrow," my sergeant replied.

"Oh ok cool... wait what? We're taking a helicopter there?"

"Yep, Chinooks."

Now I had never been on a helicopter in my life. Let alone a gigantic twin rotor military chopper. Needless to say I was rather excited. We woke early the next morning to prepare for the flight. We had our rucksack and our duffel packed and ready to go by 7AM. We were then told our flight was at... 1PM. Goddamn hurry-up-and-wait Army! It is common, no more than common, it is LAW in the Army that you will spend several hours a day most days sitting doing nothing. You must stay where you are doing nothing just in case somebody needs you at a moment’s notice to, I don't know, move boxes or something. Patience is a truly a virtue. We were then informed that we had a class to break up the monotony of the morning. After moving out bags a second time we sat in a small room and were joined by a full-bird Colonel. Now in the Army Colonel is right below General; pretty important dudes. As he entered the room we all snapped as rigid as boards, awaiting instruction. He was short and wiry with glasses. His hair was gray turning to white in places. He wore a small smirk on his face as he addressed the room of medics.

“You know what was the hardest part about being a medic back in my day?” he asked.

“What’s that sir?”

“Being able to chisel the stone tablet fast enough to keep up!”

We laughed and relaxed immediately. We were instructed on the style and effects of humanitarian aid missions in Afghanistan. I was absolutely looking forward to the missions and working with the local people. Unfortunately it’s not all peaches and cream and helping babies. Men in this society regard themselves as superior to women and children. I recall a Navy doctor telling me that they had set up a treatment center at a local village. The building being used was surrounded by a brick wall with one opening. As the locals began showing up the doctor noticed it was only the village’s men coming for treatment. She instantly halted the line and told her “terp” (interpreter) tell them,

“If we don’t start seeing some women and children we aren’t treating anybody.”

They caved and allowed the women and children to come. But there was another problem. The village men refused to allow the women to enter through their entrance to the compound so they tore the wall down on the opposite side rather than let them use the same one. That’s a taste of how men view women in this country. Class ended and we headed to the airfield where we were faced with about four more hours of waiting. How very thrilling.

At last it was time to fly! We marched out to the airfield and unloaded all of our bags for a third time.

Sanders' gay bag is ruining an otherwise hardcore picture.

I had seen pictures of the Chinook before but I never realized how huge this helicopter was until I saw it in person. We took our seats on the small metal frame benches with nylon seats and the pilot fired up the engines. The noise was similar to screaming babies and metal grinding and was deafening. I jammed my earplugs in and prepped my camera. I was sitting along the wall of the chopper near the back. The back of the Chinook has a drawbridge type door that was left open during flight. A crewmember was manning a machine gun mounted on the back gate. I had a clear view past him and out the back. I felt the chopper shift as we lifted off of the ground. Now I tried to completely trust a pilot who flies these every day but when we were taking off the chopper slipped slightly in all directions and I pictured it tipping sideways and smashing into the ground. Fortunately this was not the case and suddenly we were several hundred feet off of the ground.

“This is it. I’m really doing this,” I thought, “this is the shit in the commercials; this is why I love the Army!”

I am a complete junkie for new experiences and at that moment I was drunk with satisfaction. The noise was deafening and the wind blasted past my face. The view was absolutely breathtaking. I have been through the Rocky Mountains several times and let me tell you, they have nothing on Afghanistan. The terrain is absolutely brutal. We left the valley and the chopper tilted as we gently cruised around a mountain peak. The ground which was several hundred feet below suddenly rose as we crossed the jagged landscape. The thin, dirt roads twisted violently to negotiate the terrain. The tops of peaks shot near vertically down hundreds of feet to the base of chasms, which had been cut by a river over thousands of years. In the small areas where the land was smoother I could see little herds of animals and tiny villages dotting the landscape. Farm fields were carved into rectangle tiers like giant staircases leading up the mountainsides. I was snapping pictures faster than the paparazzi.

It looks like a recruitment poster.

We reached Methar Lam and once again as the chopper was hovering it felt like it was about to tip over. Once again, it didn’t. We jumped off the back gate and unloaded the chopper as fast as possible. We fell into a formation outside the landing zone and were greeted by our captain. As soon as the roar of the rotor blades faded into the distance he spoke,

“Welcome to Methar Lam!”

"Are you nervous?"

"So are you nervous?"

I thought carefully. I didn't want to rush to answer this question even though I had now been asked it about 25 times. I didn't want to play everything off like I was hard, like all the wannabe super-soldiers I had met who couldn't wait to, and I quote,

"Kill a fucking hadji."

I'm not Rambo, nor do I wish to be. I feel mildly sick every time I hear someone talk like the soldiers described above. It should also be noted that the younger they are, the bigger they talk. They have a real wake-up call coming.

"Whoa! Are you nervous?"

That question again! The night I left the United States I called just about everyone in my cellphone. Family, friends, teachers and bosses, even some people I hadn't spoken to in over a year. It was such a great experience. You can't even recall the times you have had with people until you talk to them one on one again. I remembered an awesome song lyric...

And I've got some friends some that I hardly know
We've had some times I wouldn't trade for the world
We chase these days down with talks of the places that we will go

Swing Life Away
Rise Against

After ten or so phone calls filled with memories I began to choke up at the slightest happy thought. I knew full well that in Afghanistan I would have internet access and still be able to easily keep in touch with all of these people. I had already been gone for three months so it wasn't new to anyone that I wasn't around. But still, something about actually flying halfway around the world kind of finalized all the thoughts and feelings of separation. I drove on, destroying my cell battery and blazing a trail of voice mails as I sped through my phone book. Finally I finished my last conversation. We boarded the first flight to Maine from North Carolina. Two hours later, we are allowed off of the plane into the Maine airport for an hour break. I used a phone to call the most important person on my list. Shelly Torkelson. Shelly is my best friend and I can discuss more topics with her than anyone on the planet, and I often do. We talk on the phone often and were well aware that I wouldn't be able to call her for quite awhile. Like the other calls that night, it was full of happy memories and soon I was fighting the manly battle to choke down tears. Shelly was teary and said,

"I'm mad and I don't know why..."

I'll miss ya.

"Dude, are you nervous man?"

Am I nervous? I probably should be but after 3 months of BS at Ft. Bragg North Carolina we were more than ready to get into a combat zone. I have spent 9 months out of the last 16 training for this. Hours of medical classes, combat lanes doused with fake blood and screaming actors, shooting ranges, mortar drills, language training, hundreds of miles ran, thousands of push ups. If anything I am ready. In fact, I was starting to get disgusted by preparation. But the day finally came to deploy. After we left Maine we flew to Turkey. After a short stay in Turkey we flew again to Kyrgyzstan. Here we had to wait a few days for, you guessed it, ANOTHER plane. We were at Manas Air Force Base. It's great to work with the Air Force because they have all the money and the best amenities. I was talking to my friend Scott about two days into deployment. He asked

"So where are you now?"
"I'm in Kryzgstan, in an internet cafe enjoying a Latte," I replied.
"Sounds rough."

So maybe getting deployed isn't all bad. After another day of ping pong, gourmet coffee, and Soviet era memorabilia shops, we had to fly to Bagram, Afghanistan. This time we were flying on a huge freaking Air Force plane. This thing was so loud we were required to wear earplugs during the flight. They had bolted old gray airline seats to the floor. All of our bags were sealed up in giant pallets in the back of the plane. I remember about two seconds of that flight and it was two seconds too long. Staying up all night has its advantages.

click on picture for full size

After arriving we had to perform the "duffel bag drag" and move all of our gear into a gigantic clamshell tent. This tent houses at least 200 soldiers on cots. Sometimes I wake up and feel like a hurricane refugee when see the piles of bags and cots and people everywhere.

"I gotta get out of this tent," I thought and began to explore the base. Let me add that Bagram was the beginning of a combat zone so we now have a loaded rifle and 9mm pistol with me at all times. I'm beginning to worry more about getting shot accidentally rather than shot by a terrorist.

Holly and Nikki, my special girls.

On all sides of the valley Bagram sits in rose huge peaks capped in snow. It is strange to see snow when it's 70 degrees where you stand. I started shopping around the Bazaar and was looking at various swords and flintlock pistols. I realized how much money America was bringing into these countries and hope it was improving the country somehow and not just funneling into already rich Afghan's hands. I realized that even if I bought something my bags were stuffed to the brim so I wouldn't be able to take it to Methar lam. As I walked around i saw all over the base entire pallets of bottled water. The water there is so unhealthy that I suppose it is cheapest to just buy a ton of bottle for the soldiers.

The next day we were scheduled for DBPP. This is a popular military acronym for "Death by PowerPoint." We had 14 briefings in one day. I was feeling pretty good about deployment and by the end of the day I had learned,

1. Afghanistan has more land mines than any country in the world, over 10 million.
2. Methar lam is in the highest category of risk for malaria in the world.
3. The Taliban start their offensives in spring, aka now.
4. Suicide bombings in Afghanistan have risen dramatically.
5. We are along the Pakistan border, the Taliban hide in Pakistan.

SWEET! Something to really look forward to.

"Oh my god Alex, are you nervous?"

Nah, I'm here for a year and it's going to be great. Stay tuned.