My apologies in advance for any random musings this post may contain, sometimes it's good to just let the brain do it's thing.
So I am on Nights for the week, and it's day five...or is it six? Hell I don't even know anymore, the last couple shifts at least went by fast, tonight it feels like the clock is moving backwards every time I look up. Well at least thing's are looking up with all the work I have been doing, I am getting the old bank account back up, and planning my first vacation in god knows how long. After trying to figure out where to go (the original plan was to meet the ex in Monaco, Paris, or Venice. But she is an ex for a reason, so those plans have been canned until I find a suitable replacement) I decided that since I have not been to the east yet I should probably head out that direction. So I'll be headed Bangkok Thailand in the next few months for just over a week of relaxation, which in my opinion is well deserved.
I am going to be honest here, the job is not stressful or anything but by the time I get out of here in July I will have been working for about six months straight 24/7. While Pakistan may not be as crazy as Iraq, or Afghanistan on some day's, I have to take sometime off at some point before I go completely crazy. The last time I got time off prior to this was about 24 hours in Amman, Jordan while I transferred here.
And let's not even mention when I will see the states again, that's probably going to be the fall seems like late September right now. Although I am in no hurry to actually make it back to the states anytime soon, I got the whole rest of the world left to explore as far as I am concerned.
Floating in the Dead Sea, proof that you can do all sorts of things when you only have 1 day.
In the interim I'll be trying to figure out what I actually want to do when I get back to FL, I got out of there for a reason after all not like there was anything keeping me there in the first place. I'd rather cut my own head off, then have to sit through another college class, or do another day at the Hard Rock working low wage security, for the pricks that pass as customers in that place sometimes.
That's all I got for now, back to surfing the web at 0330 in the AM. Cheers everybody.
So I am on Nights for the week, and it's day five...or is it six? Hell I don't even know anymore, the last couple shifts at least went by fast, tonight it feels like the clock is moving backwards every time I look up. Well at least thing's are looking up with all the work I have been doing, I am getting the old bank account back up, and planning my first vacation in god knows how long. After trying to figure out where to go (the original plan was to meet the ex in Monaco, Paris, or Venice. But she is an ex for a reason, so those plans have been canned until I find a suitable replacement) I decided that since I have not been to the east yet I should probably head out that direction. So I'll be headed Bangkok Thailand in the next few months for just over a week of relaxation, which in my opinion is well deserved.
I am going to be honest here, the job is not stressful or anything but by the time I get out of here in July I will have been working for about six months straight 24/7. While Pakistan may not be as crazy as Iraq, or Afghanistan on some day's, I have to take sometime off at some point before I go completely crazy. The last time I got time off prior to this was about 24 hours in Amman, Jordan while I transferred here.
And let's not even mention when I will see the states again, that's probably going to be the fall seems like late September right now. Although I am in no hurry to actually make it back to the states anytime soon, I got the whole rest of the world left to explore as far as I am concerned.
Floating in the Dead Sea, proof that you can do all sorts of things when you only have 1 day.
In the interim I'll be trying to figure out what I actually want to do when I get back to FL, I got out of there for a reason after all not like there was anything keeping me there in the first place. I'd rather cut my own head off, then have to sit through another college class, or do another day at the Hard Rock working low wage security, for the pricks that pass as customers in that place sometimes.
That's all I got for now, back to surfing the web at 0330 in the AM. Cheers everybody.
Greetings folks, it has been a long time since I have written any sort of blog. But I figured now that I am back in circulation in the world I would write some impressions from the places I have seen, please remember that these are by no means a full travel guide (why you would want to travel the places I work in is beyond me). All of these have been assembled from my personal experiences in these countries, so please keep those in mind when reading. Now that the disclaimer is done it's on with the show, if you have particular questions please let me know I will be happy to see if I can find answers.
I have been outside the consulate here a few times now working around the city, Peshawar has a fascinating society. There are so many things here that come together that it is a huge mishmash of cultural thing's that seem to come from across the borders and cultures. You see everything on the streets here from high priced BMW's (Which I have been told are only $10,000 American brand new here), to rickshaws (straight out of Asia), jingle trucks / buses (if you ever wondered why the bus crashes over here have such high casualty's in the news it's easy to explain. They literally cram the inside, top, bottom, and hang on outside when driving down the road), donkey carts, and mopeds with regular cars. Traffic is chaotic to put it lightly, more like a chaotic mess with thousands of people throwing their vehicles around trying to get from one place to the next. Our drivers are well trained however, and they know just how to push their way through the craziness that is Peshawar road traffic.
Even in other way's this place continues to be a study in culture, the local language for the most part is Local Pashtu, with some Hindi mixed in. However the most common word's used in greetings are the Arabic "Sal-am Aleikum," only to continue in a completely different language that is Pashtu. There is also a smattering of English thrown throughout, I hear greetings from my guards in English at all times of the day, along with "Hello Boss", "Roger Sir", "Copy Sir", and so on. Most of the road signs, advertisements and so on reflect this as well marking the brand name and slogan in English with a Pashtu language add or sometimes in Hindi. As far as fashion goes it is pretty much what I am used to from Iraq almost every women (smallest toddlers and up) you see wears some form of scarf covering her face and most of the body down to the knees at least, there is also a huge population that wears the Afghan burkha covering themselves from top to bottom, while men tend to wear a mix of western styles, or the regular local tribal long shirt, with baggy pants. As far as the rules go it seems to be a weird mixture, there are a ton of signs, and billboards everywhere around that advertise schools, university's, and so on. At the same time not a week goes by when a girls school doesn't get blown up by some local bad guys somewhere in Pakistan, much like the middle east women here are at a huge disadvantage and from what I have heard around the office the literacy rate for girls floats just around 50%. At the same time there are huge programs to send top students to foreign countries particularly England for study at places like Cambridge, and Oxford.
The Brits seem to have left an indelible impression here which I do not think will ever go away. The top game in town continues to be Cricket, with tennis, volleyball, and field hockey following a close second. There is not a night when I don't see some of the local workers watching cricket matches on television, all of course broadcast from India. Speaking of India the hostility between Pakistan, and India extends into the game arena as the two countries refuse to play each other in any way or form. When India hosted an international Cricket Cup recently the Pakistanis were barred from attending, of course the locals here retaliated by making sure India was banned from the games when they hosted the cup, it has gotten to the point where Indian teams now refuse to have Pakistani players on their teams. They are not only discouraged but completely barred from playing with any Indian team no matter how well trained, of course Pakistan has the same rule for Indian players. I guess not even sport can bring these two cultures together at least on the field. The politics of the game have diminished none of the hunger for it, and the workers here devour shows talking about Cricket (even in Hindi), and any game that is put on TV. Most mornings in the city you will drive by at least 30 improv games (many times organized along age lines, with several games next to each other) within ten minutes, and it seems any open sand field is occupied with a group playing their game.
Even the bar at the local American Club has history behind it, just a small example is the fact that Charlie Wilson sat at this same bar during the Afghan Conflict in the 80's. The next door neighbor to the club at the time was one Bin Laden, Osama a Saudi National who was organizing the Mujaheddin fighting Soviets across the border. The bartender who worked here (for 70 years) retired a few years ago, and he had an article written on him in the Washington Post he had a front row (bar?) seat to history being made and retired in his late 80's only after being struck by a motorcycle, and becoming to sick to work the bar on a regular basis (work week here is six days). Mind you the man served Americans for all that time, as does his replacement now, both men are devout Muslims and never miss a prayer at any time of day or night. Nor has either man ever tried alcohol, since it is officially illegal in Pakistan (but can be sold to foreigners on their own premises, or acquired on the flourishing black market). When asked why these men did what they did, they answered simply "we are poor people, happy to have a good job."
That is all my impressions for now, I will write more in the future.
I have been outside the consulate here a few times now working around the city, Peshawar has a fascinating society. There are so many things here that come together that it is a huge mishmash of cultural thing's that seem to come from across the borders and cultures. You see everything on the streets here from high priced BMW's (Which I have been told are only $10,000 American brand new here), to rickshaws (straight out of Asia), jingle trucks / buses (if you ever wondered why the bus crashes over here have such high casualty's in the news it's easy to explain. They literally cram the inside, top, bottom, and hang on outside when driving down the road), donkey carts, and mopeds with regular cars. Traffic is chaotic to put it lightly, more like a chaotic mess with thousands of people throwing their vehicles around trying to get from one place to the next. Our drivers are well trained however, and they know just how to push their way through the craziness that is Peshawar road traffic.
Even in other way's this place continues to be a study in culture, the local language for the most part is Local Pashtu, with some Hindi mixed in. However the most common word's used in greetings are the Arabic "Sal-am Aleikum," only to continue in a completely different language that is Pashtu. There is also a smattering of English thrown throughout, I hear greetings from my guards in English at all times of the day, along with "Hello Boss", "Roger Sir", "Copy Sir", and so on. Most of the road signs, advertisements and so on reflect this as well marking the brand name and slogan in English with a Pashtu language add or sometimes in Hindi. As far as fashion goes it is pretty much what I am used to from Iraq almost every women (smallest toddlers and up) you see wears some form of scarf covering her face and most of the body down to the knees at least, there is also a huge population that wears the Afghan burkha covering themselves from top to bottom, while men tend to wear a mix of western styles, or the regular local tribal long shirt, with baggy pants. As far as the rules go it seems to be a weird mixture, there are a ton of signs, and billboards everywhere around that advertise schools, university's, and so on. At the same time not a week goes by when a girls school doesn't get blown up by some local bad guys somewhere in Pakistan, much like the middle east women here are at a huge disadvantage and from what I have heard around the office the literacy rate for girls floats just around 50%. At the same time there are huge programs to send top students to foreign countries particularly England for study at places like Cambridge, and Oxford.
The Brits seem to have left an indelible impression here which I do not think will ever go away. The top game in town continues to be Cricket, with tennis, volleyball, and field hockey following a close second. There is not a night when I don't see some of the local workers watching cricket matches on television, all of course broadcast from India. Speaking of India the hostility between Pakistan, and India extends into the game arena as the two countries refuse to play each other in any way or form. When India hosted an international Cricket Cup recently the Pakistanis were barred from attending, of course the locals here retaliated by making sure India was banned from the games when they hosted the cup, it has gotten to the point where Indian teams now refuse to have Pakistani players on their teams. They are not only discouraged but completely barred from playing with any Indian team no matter how well trained, of course Pakistan has the same rule for Indian players. I guess not even sport can bring these two cultures together at least on the field. The politics of the game have diminished none of the hunger for it, and the workers here devour shows talking about Cricket (even in Hindi), and any game that is put on TV. Most mornings in the city you will drive by at least 30 improv games (many times organized along age lines, with several games next to each other) within ten minutes, and it seems any open sand field is occupied with a group playing their game.
Even the bar at the local American Club has history behind it, just a small example is the fact that Charlie Wilson sat at this same bar during the Afghan Conflict in the 80's. The next door neighbor to the club at the time was one Bin Laden, Osama a Saudi National who was organizing the Mujaheddin fighting Soviets across the border. The bartender who worked here (for 70 years) retired a few years ago, and he had an article written on him in the Washington Post he had a front row (bar?) seat to history being made and retired in his late 80's only after being struck by a motorcycle, and becoming to sick to work the bar on a regular basis (work week here is six days). Mind you the man served Americans for all that time, as does his replacement now, both men are devout Muslims and never miss a prayer at any time of day or night. Nor has either man ever tried alcohol, since it is officially illegal in Pakistan (but can be sold to foreigners on their own premises, or acquired on the flourishing black market). When asked why these men did what they did, they answered simply "we are poor people, happy to have a good job."
That is all my impressions for now, I will write more in the future.
Back out in the world, living the dream.....ah who the hell am I kidding. I am back in a country that I swore I would never come back to four years ago, good morning Iraq! Did you miss me?! Well so much for adventure down here, it's pretty much the same thing most day's. Hell I am getting more time surfing the web, then I get going out into town.
It's hot, and I am obviously not amused.
On the bright side, somewhere someone seems to have heard my plea because I already got orders to be reassigned. And while Pakistan may not be on most people travel list, I am looking forward to heading in that direction. I figure I have never been there, and it sounds like an interesting place. Even if I can't go wandering of through random ruins.
Home was good, well it was Home. Saw my folks, and shared some good times with my closest friends. Unfortunately I had no time to get new ink on myself, and even worse I had no idea what I wanted to use. But that has all changed now so I can keep my old tradition of coming home, and getting tattooed alive.
Although planning vacation is proving to be more challenging then I thought. So many places I need to go, and I want to see them all as fast as possible. Still debating between Prague, Krakow, or maybe even Bangok. London had made it in there, but went back out the window when I realized my summer plans would clash with the Olympics, and I don't get paid enough to put up with all those folks.
But then I stumbled onto Gogo's store and it all got better, so now I got some paintings, prints, and a shirt coming my way. Well it certainly is not home, but it's a hell of a lot better then nothing out here. And I seriously can't thank her enough for providing all of it.
Stay Easy everyone.
On a Side Note:
I live in a damn box! Until I leave that is.
It's hot, and I am obviously not amused.
On the bright side, somewhere someone seems to have heard my plea because I already got orders to be reassigned. And while Pakistan may not be on most people travel list, I am looking forward to heading in that direction. I figure I have never been there, and it sounds like an interesting place. Even if I can't go wandering of through random ruins.
Home was good, well it was Home. Saw my folks, and shared some good times with my closest friends. Unfortunately I had no time to get new ink on myself, and even worse I had no idea what I wanted to use. But that has all changed now so I can keep my old tradition of coming home, and getting tattooed alive.
Although planning vacation is proving to be more challenging then I thought. So many places I need to go, and I want to see them all as fast as possible. Still debating between Prague, Krakow, or maybe even Bangok. London had made it in there, but went back out the window when I realized my summer plans would clash with the Olympics, and I don't get paid enough to put up with all those folks.
But then I stumbled onto Gogo's store and it all got better, so now I got some paintings, prints, and a shirt coming my way. Well it certainly is not home, but it's a hell of a lot better then nothing out here. And I seriously can't thank her enough for providing all of it.
Stay Easy everyone.
On a Side Note:
I live in a damn box! Until I leave that is.
Heading back to FL soon, not really looking forward to it. Nothing has changed in the last 4 months I was not there, so I'll pop in for a few day's and then I'll be gone. Stay with my folks, catch up with some friends (hang out at HRC and bother the security guys lol), pack all my stuff, and square the last paperwork away then it's off to the other side of the world again. I am going to have to start figuring out which countries I want to visit when the first vacation comes up. Definitely England, Japan, Ukraine, Czech Republic, Russia, and China (those are debatable mainly because of the fact that there might be a lot of briefings involved.) Hell I'll be making enough money so why not enjoy some time to travel, and see some places I want to see.
The only good thing I can see about heading home for a bit is the fact that the weather will be warmer, not much really but hell its something. Going, going, Gone.
The only good thing I can see about heading home for a bit is the fact that the weather will be warmer, not much really but hell its something. Going, going, Gone.
I am a war addict, I just realized that recently. You wouldn't know it by looking at me, nobody ever does. I am a tall, skinny bastard who mostly has his head in a book, and tends to be pretty quiet around other people only speaking when actively engaged, and even then not for very long. I don't beat my chest, try to overpower people with my personality, try to pickup women constantly, or act like your stereotypical alpha male. But sitting alone like I usually do one night, the thought finally hit me. I miss Iraq, I miss my war, and that is why I am going back soon. My family, and friend's have been trying for months to persuade me otherwise, even going so far as to wish me bad luck so that I didn't pass my new job interview with the Department. To bad for them it was all for nothing, I passed with flying colors. The new training is flying by in a flash, room clearing, motorcades, driving, shooting, its all new to me and at the same time things that I seem to be made for. I don't think there is a single class mate that would willingly go to a bar with me, but they all want me on their team when we work, because I do my job.
War is something I was exposed to at nineteen, running through the streets of Al Quaim Iraq with my brothers in arms. It has given me confidence, nightmares, strength, sadness, shown me the worst horrors, and at nineteen I learned how to inflict them on others and revel in the feeling it gave me. After I got out my life seemed to take a turn downhill, I tried to go to police academy and promptly quit halfway through for no reason other then not wanting to do it anymore. I held a job as a minimum wage security guard at a casino, and went to school for no reason. I can honestly say I was depressed in Florida, most day's I felt like there was nothing going for me, and that I was headed absolutely nowhere.
I am bitter to, even just at the simple fact that I know my place is back in a dangerous environment. I wonder whether I never adjusted to being back home, and hate the fact that some of the guy's I served with came back and effortlessly managed to slip back into society. While I struggled with the simple fact of walking around a college campus, or hanging out in a club or bar without trying to bolt for the exit because the crowd was getting to close. My closest friends have even seen me break down completely, because I only seem to remember the really bad times when I get way to drunk.
But I know that I wouldn't change a thing in the world, I love what I do. I love the feeling of adrenaline when we are kitting up to run another extraction scenario, the way I can feel the blood rush through me, and how simple life can be when your going toe to toe with someone who want's to kill you. Life and death are so much simpler in combat, the worries of everyday life and the long list of things that seem to be on everyone's plate don't matter anymore. I still remember a journal entry I read in Iraq, that seemed to sum it all up for me.
When I'm out there at night, I feel close to my own body, I can feel my blood moving, my skin and my fingernails, everything, it's like I'm full of electricity and I'm glowing in the dark--I'm on fire almost--I'm burning away to nothing--but it doesn't matter because I know exactly where I am.
I am looking forward to the new adventure, because life as I know it would be way to dull without it.
War is something I was exposed to at nineteen, running through the streets of Al Quaim Iraq with my brothers in arms. It has given me confidence, nightmares, strength, sadness, shown me the worst horrors, and at nineteen I learned how to inflict them on others and revel in the feeling it gave me. After I got out my life seemed to take a turn downhill, I tried to go to police academy and promptly quit halfway through for no reason other then not wanting to do it anymore. I held a job as a minimum wage security guard at a casino, and went to school for no reason. I can honestly say I was depressed in Florida, most day's I felt like there was nothing going for me, and that I was headed absolutely nowhere.
I am bitter to, even just at the simple fact that I know my place is back in a dangerous environment. I wonder whether I never adjusted to being back home, and hate the fact that some of the guy's I served with came back and effortlessly managed to slip back into society. While I struggled with the simple fact of walking around a college campus, or hanging out in a club or bar without trying to bolt for the exit because the crowd was getting to close. My closest friends have even seen me break down completely, because I only seem to remember the really bad times when I get way to drunk.
But I know that I wouldn't change a thing in the world, I love what I do. I love the feeling of adrenaline when we are kitting up to run another extraction scenario, the way I can feel the blood rush through me, and how simple life can be when your going toe to toe with someone who want's to kill you. Life and death are so much simpler in combat, the worries of everyday life and the long list of things that seem to be on everyone's plate don't matter anymore. I still remember a journal entry I read in Iraq, that seemed to sum it all up for me.
When I'm out there at night, I feel close to my own body, I can feel my blood moving, my skin and my fingernails, everything, it's like I'm full of electricity and I'm glowing in the dark--I'm on fire almost--I'm burning away to nothing--but it doesn't matter because I know exactly where I am.
I am looking forward to the new adventure, because life as I know it would be way to dull without it.
I recently had a long conversation with several of my friends which all seem to have run in the same vein. Since I will be leaving the country again for my job, the question of "why would you do that?" Tends to crop up a lot, as to why I would go an put myself back in harms way, when I should just sit here at home, work a job, and go to school. If there’s one thing that can be said about the experience that was joining the Marines, or now another Government Agency, it’s that my friends back home won’t understand a damn bit of it. For every life-altering experience I may have, good and bad, my friends back home will largely be the same way they were when I left them. My friends will be doing the same things–going to school, not going to school, working, etc., while I’ll be barraged with culture shock and do things that none of them will probably ever have to worry about.
I’ll meet new people, see new things–new worlds even; and they won’t even begin to understand it. Going home was never the same again, and being home for too long finds me in the precarious position of wishing I was gone again. The very idea of home became a distant memory, because it’s never the same as it was. It’s not that home has changed, in fact it’s remained largely the same. Sure, maybe some new stores or restaurants popped up while I was gone, but it’s hardly any different.
What’s really changed is me… and I’ll never be the same again. But hey, that’s okay. Regular people live regular lives, and I’ve lived anything but. What’s really important is that I try your best not to alienate everyone at home, and if I need help with it, don’t be afraid to seek it. My friends and family will never understand, but they can try if I give them a chance. This is something I espouse to everyone, who has been through the same thing no matter what service, or which war you fought in.
Don't get me wrong, home, and my family are always on my mind when I am away. But there is something about being somewhere new, seeing something different, and feeling alive again that keeps me going out the door. While it has cost me friends, and in two cases the women I loved I hope that it never changes. I would rather be out there then be bored to death back here, now if someone wants to come me with on those adventures she is more then welcome, but never try to run my life, because I won't run yours.
I’ll meet new people, see new things–new worlds even; and they won’t even begin to understand it. Going home was never the same again, and being home for too long finds me in the precarious position of wishing I was gone again. The very idea of home became a distant memory, because it’s never the same as it was. It’s not that home has changed, in fact it’s remained largely the same. Sure, maybe some new stores or restaurants popped up while I was gone, but it’s hardly any different.
What’s really changed is me… and I’ll never be the same again. But hey, that’s okay. Regular people live regular lives, and I’ve lived anything but. What’s really important is that I try your best not to alienate everyone at home, and if I need help with it, don’t be afraid to seek it. My friends and family will never understand, but they can try if I give them a chance. This is something I espouse to everyone, who has been through the same thing no matter what service, or which war you fought in.
Don't get me wrong, home, and my family are always on my mind when I am away. But there is something about being somewhere new, seeing something different, and feeling alive again that keeps me going out the door. While it has cost me friends, and in two cases the women I loved I hope that it never changes. I would rather be out there then be bored to death back here, now if someone wants to come me with on those adventures she is more then welcome, but never try to run my life, because I won't run yours.
