Afghanistan: Someplace Altogether New

Because my journey to Afghanistan was so long, this will be a post in three parts: Someplace Altogether New, The Excursion, and Things Change and Are the Same.

I knew I was going to deploy with my unit to Afghanistan for nearly three years before it actually happened. We had been delayed so many times that there were several who didn't believe we were actually going anywhere. There were several who were actually surprised (and disappointed) when we all finally came together for the final train-up before shipping out. I had been working on orders, helping with the preparations for the deployment, so I was not surprised. However, I did find it amusing seeing the reactions of other people.

When we finally stepped off the plane, even my mental preparations of the years previous and the studying I had done did not fully ready me for the vast difference I would see. In that village in Panama, I had lived in an austere environment, and I thought that this would be no different, just longer. I was wrong.

We were in a war zone, and there were concrete T-Walls everywhere, barbed wire-topped fences and giant military vehicles adding to a near constant smog. I saw all of this on the bus taking us to the small camp where we would be living for the next nine months. Cramped in that repurposed school bus in full armor, squished by a team-mate much larger than my tiny 5'2" frame, I wasn't sure what to think. On the one hand, I knew that this trip was not for fun and games. Despite knowing that we almost as safe as possible in the middle of a war torn country, this was not a vacation nor a trip for fun and games. I was genuinely shocked at the lack of trees or grass or any evidence of living, growing things besides that odd bird here and there. Everywhere was dirt, and rocks, and buildings the same color as the dirt and rocks.

I stuffed away my expectations and disappointments as we left the bus and scrambled to get keys to our rooms and find our bags in the pile of identical luggage. One person, a Chief Warrant Officer aptly named Knight, helped me carry duffel bag to my room, which was several rows away from the unloading point. He remarked at how heavy my bag was and asked whether I had brought the kitchen sink, laughing until I told him that all of my stuff was in the one bag except for a few pieces of spare gear and my carry-on bag. I couldn't hide the smugness as I explained my tendency to travel light.

I was first to my room and had the privilege of choice of beds. However, I felt like an ass as I immediately thought of taking the bed at the back of the room and took the less preferred bed by the door as penance. Little by little, as I unpacked, I changed my perspective on this new place I had found myself in. I realized that it was nothing like anywhere I had seen before, and that, in itself, was cool. Free gym access, free meals and a free bed were nice, too. Somehow, without really trying, I managed to turn the drab, dusty Camp Sabalu-Harrison into a place shining with newness and possibility. I managed to start my deployment off right, and that helped keep me going when things got rocky later. (Pun only sort of intended.)

Sure, I was in a war zone, and there were hundreds of people outside the gate who would have liked to see our temporary home (and we with it) wiped out of the valley. Sure, I was in a place that could stressful from the monotony alone, and I worked hours that I would, at one time, have considered insane. But that hardly mattered. I had good people with me, and a ridiculous determination to remain as chipper and cheery as possible.

The first lesson Afghanistan taught me, before I had been there fully a week, is that anywhere you go can be a good place. It depends entirely on how you look at it.