Greetings from Kabul-where I think it is Monday. Of course it really doesn't matter if it is Monday except that the reruns of Big Brother are on somewhere on AFN (you know you are in a war zone when you look forward to watching Big Brother....).
I guess the big news is that I have offered to extend in the garden spot known to the rest of the world as Kabul, whether or not they are willing to keep me is the big question! I think there is concern that I will, by myself, manage to cause the price of Afghan rugs to sky rocket.
I wish I had something exciting to write, but when all you do is work (or as I like to say "save the world one HR problem at a time) and buy rugs it is difficult to find fodder for blogging.
One of the most important aspects of life in Kabul is housing. I am currently living in a container, affectionately known as hooches, that is smaller than my office (but of course I deserve my large, corner office as I am saving the world one HR problem at a time....), I have 3.5 minutes of hot water for every shower-I have learned to shampoo in the evening and condition in the morning, I have to admit there are days when lathering up can be considered a luxury. However, I am luckier than some-there are some people are sharing hooches. Which would then mean 1.75 minutes of hot water per person..but I digress. There are a finite number of apartments available, and I am number 23 on the apartment list. Now keep in mind getting to #1 on the apartment list does not mean I would be roommate free, they have started "splitting" apartments, which means you would have your own room (with a *gasp* a carpet) and share the bathroom (with *gasp* hot water) and a kitchen. I have recently realized the people that go to the top of the apartment lists are married couples-which of course has gotten me to thinking. I could easily kill two birds with one stone: If I were to marry some poor unsuspecting gentleman on the apartment list I would a) get an apartment b) make my mother happy! Sadly this brings me to the unspoken mantra of the single females of Kabul "the odds are good-but the goods are odd" So, unless Peyton Manning somehow ends up single and in Kabul I will stick with my # 23 on the list.
Off to watch the end of Big Brother and dream of a world of bathtubs and carpets.
Monday, August 23, 2010
Thursday, August 12, 2010
You know your not in Oklahoma any more when.....
*you use the sandbags outside your hootch as patio decoration
*you are glad Senator Kerry is in town because it means better food in the Dining Facility
*going to the "Little Prince" in Dari is almost the highlight of your week
*going in an armored vehicle to a hotel where you have to pass through 3 check points to eat off of real plates is truly the highlight of your week
* not thinking anything of standing on the streets of Kabul-outside the green zone to pick up your delivery is Indian food doesn't seem "that" bad
*whether or not your staff come in the next day is based on the new moon
Greetings from Kabul!!! All is well here. Continue to work hours that would wear out mere mortals...not those of us in the biggest, busiest and baddest Embassy in the World!!
I have been lucky enough to get off compound a number of times. We are "allowed" to walk 10 minutes to the military compound on certain days of the week. It makes me laugh because the regulations tell us we are not to run along this route. Let me tell you-if someone starts chasing me I am running and breaking every regulation known to man!! The route is very well protected and we never get out into the real world, and it leads us to the land of carpets!
I did get out into the "real world" three (yes 3) times last week. The first evening was to see a play in the local language of Dari. We sat out in a courtyard on pillows and had wonderful AFghan desserts. I found it very surreal that when the Blackhawks flew over the play managed to go on-while drowning out the actors. This has become a fact of life. I wish I could describe what it feels like to drive through the streets of Kabul. You realize that your life is in the hands of someone (the local driver) who makes $16,000 a year. Life is going on as normal, even though we couldn't even comprehend normal as Afghans know it, while at the same time you never quite know the intentions of the guy on the motor scooter as he pulls up next to you. Afghans in the rural areas put there lives in danger every day when they come to work at the American bases. Without sounding trite-thank your lucky stars you are an American. Especially since Afghans have a propensity to wear shiny suits!!
I also got to go to 2 "local" restaurants last week. I am not sure how local they are when they serve wine ($75.00 a bottle) and take dollars! I do love to eat off of real plates and drink fizzy water! The altitude does take its toll-or maybe it is just me being out of shape as I breath heavily after climbing one flight of stairs.
One last quick story. This evening we ordered food from the local Indian restaurant. In order to pick up the food you have to walk off compound to one of the busiest "traffic circles" in the area. I had to realize the absolute absurdity of the situation as 6 Americans merrily walked out to the circle, paid the driver and argued over whether he had brought enough garlic naan!! Let me tell you that was the best garlic naan I had ever tasted!!
Off to my safe hooch-going to go back to carpet shopping tomorrow.
3 long weeks till football season!!
*you are glad Senator Kerry is in town because it means better food in the Dining Facility
*going to the "Little Prince" in Dari is almost the highlight of your week
*going in an armored vehicle to a hotel where you have to pass through 3 check points to eat off of real plates is truly the highlight of your week
* not thinking anything of standing on the streets of Kabul-outside the green zone to pick up your delivery is Indian food doesn't seem "that" bad
*whether or not your staff come in the next day is based on the new moon
Greetings from Kabul!!! All is well here. Continue to work hours that would wear out mere mortals...not those of us in the biggest, busiest and baddest Embassy in the World!!
I have been lucky enough to get off compound a number of times. We are "allowed" to walk 10 minutes to the military compound on certain days of the week. It makes me laugh because the regulations tell us we are not to run along this route. Let me tell you-if someone starts chasing me I am running and breaking every regulation known to man!! The route is very well protected and we never get out into the real world, and it leads us to the land of carpets!
I did get out into the "real world" three (yes 3) times last week. The first evening was to see a play in the local language of Dari. We sat out in a courtyard on pillows and had wonderful AFghan desserts. I found it very surreal that when the Blackhawks flew over the play managed to go on-while drowning out the actors. This has become a fact of life. I wish I could describe what it feels like to drive through the streets of Kabul. You realize that your life is in the hands of someone (the local driver) who makes $16,000 a year. Life is going on as normal, even though we couldn't even comprehend normal as Afghans know it, while at the same time you never quite know the intentions of the guy on the motor scooter as he pulls up next to you. Afghans in the rural areas put there lives in danger every day when they come to work at the American bases. Without sounding trite-thank your lucky stars you are an American. Especially since Afghans have a propensity to wear shiny suits!!
I also got to go to 2 "local" restaurants last week. I am not sure how local they are when they serve wine ($75.00 a bottle) and take dollars! I do love to eat off of real plates and drink fizzy water! The altitude does take its toll-or maybe it is just me being out of shape as I breath heavily after climbing one flight of stairs.
One last quick story. This evening we ordered food from the local Indian restaurant. In order to pick up the food you have to walk off compound to one of the busiest "traffic circles" in the area. I had to realize the absolute absurdity of the situation as 6 Americans merrily walked out to the circle, paid the driver and argued over whether he had brought enough garlic naan!! Let me tell you that was the best garlic naan I had ever tasted!!
Off to my safe hooch-going to go back to carpet shopping tomorrow.
3 long weeks till football season!!
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