Kristmas in Kandahar

Christmas snuck up on me this year. Normally one is bombarded by Christmas messages in the weeks leading up to the 25th: TV specials, advertising, lights on houses. This year I was bombarded, but not by Christmas, by the insurgents (though very far away and absolutely no danger to me - just to be clear). So it was the 21st and I was on my way to the Canadian contingent Christmas party before it hit me that Christmas was only four days away. Once at the party our Social Committee tried their best to get everyone into the spirit of the season. We also were allowed our "2 beers per man perhaps" for this party, though in a fit of misguided solidarity with my dry American subordinates, I opted for the orange Fanta instead of the Molson Canadian. There were draws for gifts (I won a Keiths baseball cap), and Christmas song themed charades (the poor Major who had to come up with a way to mime "Feliz Navidad" won the day, just out of sympathy). The biggest boost from this party was just getting all the Canadians together in one place as we all work in different places throughout the headquarters and on varied schedules, so just seeing everyone and wishing them a Merry Christmas was worthwhile.

The next "Christmas" event was our lunch for the Afghans on 23 December. Faithful readers of this blog will know that during Eid our Afghan colleagues threw a little party for us. Now it was our turn to return the favour. It is very important to reciprocate hospitality in Afghan culture. We arranged for one of our interpreters to pick up food in Kandahar (it was much cheaper than buying it in the local bazaar) and some of the staff contributed goodies sent from home. I kicked in a panettone that was sent to me by the headquarters I work for in Toronto - odd, but very popular as it turned out. The Afghans were very appreciative and there were no leftovers, particularly among the sweets - though no-one could adequately explain why a Toblerone is shaped that way.

Finally we had our Christmas lunch on the 25th. Now Saturday is not a day off in Afghanistan, and this Saturday, despite it being Christmas, was no different. We had to go to work in the morning and had a normal routine until lunch. The NATO staff then departed and went back to FOB Lindsay, where we live, to have lunch. The kitchen staff go all out for these events and the mess hall was decorated with artfully carved melons, and gigantic faux cakes.

The senior officers, myself included, volunteered to serve the troops, as that is the tradition in the military. I took my place on the steam line and dished out prime rib, ham, stuffing, mashed potatoes, macaroni and cheese and sweet potatoes as well as three kinds of gravy. Needless to say no-one went away hungry! There were all manner of desserts as well. It was great fun to serve the food under the watchful eye of the kitchen staff who hailed from India, Bosnia and China.

After a big meal the rest of the day was free time so most retired to their rooms to Skype their loved ones back home. The good thing about being 9.5 hours ahead of Eastern Canada is that our Christmas was over before it even began back home. Some of the soldiers were able to watch their kids open presents over the web on Christmas morning. I watched a Christmas movie and called home.

Then, around 2000 hrs (8:00 pm) as I was checking e-mail, the rocket warning siren on KAF sounded. It was almost immediately followed by the sound of a rocket impact (another rocket impact was heard tonight as I write this). As I believe I have explained before the rockets launched at KAF are extremely inaccurate with the insurgent theory being that KAF is very big and the chance of hitting something important is worth the risk. My theory is they were after Don Cherry.

So Christmas was memorable and unique this year. The season crept up on me and was over in a flash. Today, Boxing Day, was just another working day here. I hope your Christmas, where ever you are, was as unique and interesting as mine - but with less rockets.

Feliz Navidad

Learning Pashto

There is a scene in David Sedaris's book "Me Talk Pretty One Day" where he describes learning French (by the way if you have not read that book, stop reading this blog, run to the bookstore, purchase it, read it, stop rolling on the floor laughing, and then come back to the blog). In the book, Sedaris describes the stages of learning a language; one in particular is called "the Angry Baby stage," in which nouns are shouted and objects pointed at "Food!" "Juice" "Ashtray." I am in a different situation having decided to use the Rosetta Stone software to learn Pashto - the language spoken in southern Afghanistan. If you have never used the Rosetta Stone method I shall describe it for you. Rather like that stern Carmelite nun who taught math in junior high, the Rosetta Stoners believe in tough love. They eschew things like translation and dictionaries, believing that one should learn a language like a baby - by associating words with objects. So the first several lessons resemble closely David Sedaris's experience but with objects seemingly randomly selected. I learned the words for car, fish, airplane, fruit cocktail, and child. No sentences, no verbs. As I progress I get to learn more complex, but equally useless phrases like: "the boy jumps," and "woman dancing." No real sentences yet, no greetings, not even "the boy jumps out of an airplane with fruit cocktail," though I think I could suss that one out.

At some point in the lessons I am waiting for the "aha' moment where I will begin to put pronouns, nouns and verbs together in practical phrases. My other source of Pashto language skills is the handbook the Forces gives everyone deploying here. And where the Rosetta Stone language is abstract and obscure, the handbook is brutally practical and probably not meant for someone like me working in a headquarters. So while I can say " Show me your ID card!" "Don't move" and "Flat on the ground," none of these phrases are conducive to a healthy office working environment, unless you work in government.

And so as I try to find a way to work the following exchange into casual conversation:
"Is that a white cat"
"No, that is not a white cat, that is a black cat"
I continue to slog through the Rosetta Stone lessons. Wish me luck.

FOB Lindsay is Wolfe Island

I have discovered why I "enjoy" living here on Forward Operating Base (FOB) Lindsay more than on KAF. It's not just that the food is better (it is) or that there is less dust (much less), but it's that FOB Lindsay is a village, just like Wolfe Island, where I live in Canada. There are other similarities too. Wolfe Island has a population of about 1500, 500 of whom live in Marysville - FOB Lindsay's population is about 600. Every day when leaving the island you must line up for the ferry, well here on the FOB we line up our HMMWVs to pass through the vehicle check point. Just like in Marysville there is one general store on FOB Lindsay and very few choices as to where to eat. You nod to your neighbours as you walk around the FOB, just as you do on the Island, and you have to go to the Post Office to pick up your mail. Also the FOB dog, Blondi, runs freely around the FOB just like the unleashed dogs of Marysville, and you have to take your own garbage to the dump.

There are even some of the same people on FOB Lindsay as you would meet on the island. There are the visitors from KAF who come for the food, just like the hordes of tourists who jam up the ferry in the summer. We have equal disdain for them here. There are the free spirits who come to the Island to escape the high cost of living in Kingston, thumb their noses at the rules and let their hair grow. On Wolfe Island they are the artists - on FOB Lindsay they are the Special Forces. On Wolfe Island during hunting season I have often been awakened in the early morning by the shotguns blasts of hunters. It is the same here on FOB Lindsay, except that the hunting season runs all year round, and the shotguns have been replaced by artillery and A-10 attack aircraft. The turkeys shoot back here too.

Finally, there are the farmers. On the Island farmers grow hay and corn, and raise cattle or bison. There is also the odd rumour that there might be a little "aromatic herb' growing out there in the fields. At FOB Lindsay it is the same, but flipped on its head. The farmers around the FOB grow opium poppies, and rumour has it that there might be a few pomegranates hidden out there in the poppy fields.

So for a Wolfe Islander FOB Lindsay is just like home, except I've got a 30 metre walk to the washroom and it's a lot hotter!

An Eid Party - and a Turkey

On the second last day of Eid-al Adha (Big Eid) our Afghan colleauges, who had been on holiday for a few days, surprised up with a little reception at our office. Eid-al-Adha is one of the major celebrations in the Muslim calendar and many people travel home to see family. It occurs one month after the end of Ramadan and commemorates God sparing Abraham's son when his father offered him as a sacrifice. People buy new clothes and have a big dinner for which a sheep is usually sacrificed. There were thousands of sheep in Kandahar City just before Eid, brought in for the feasts. We had a skeleton crew on at the Operations Centre and were expecting everyone back after the Friday holiday. We were invited into the small conference room and to our surprise quite a spread was laid out for us. There were the usual meeting nibblies: raisins, almonds, and toasted chick peas, but there were also great soft cookies that had a bird imprinted on them and what the Italians call confetti - sugar coated almonds.

We all sat down after admiring the spread, and the senior Afghan present, Colonel Juma Khan (in the blue Police uniform) told us the story of Eid. We drank gallons of unsweetend tea (no milk either) and munched appreciatively on the food. I have gotten used to drinking black tea and only using my right hand to eat in the presence of Muslims so we tried some of everything. The officers in this picture are both Colonels, Juma Khan, and Saboor Khan (he's in the Army) and they make abot $600 a month. The food they purchased is less expensive than we would pay in Canada, but it was an expense for them so we had to sample everything, and drink lots of tea. We plan on returning the hospitality with a BBQ in the near future. It is very important to reciprocate social events as it shows your appreciation in a concrete way - with food!

As I said in my Kandahar post it was a very peaceful Eid in our part of Afghanistan this year, the most peaceful in eight years. This was likely due to the major operations that occurred in the late summer and fall. Thousands of police and soldiers have been in the city providing security. Things still happen, and it's not Canada-peaceful, but there are signs that the insurgents are on the back foot.

Just after Eid, American Thanksgiving was celebrated. It was a big deal here as 80% of the troops on the ground in the South are now American, and in my group with 10th Mountain Div it's more like 90%.

The main meal was held at lunch and the cooks went all out to make it festive for the US troops. They had real turkey and stuffing and all the traditional fixings. I was in a big briefing going on at the Afghan Corps HQ (you can see me in the picture to the right of the Afghan in the leather coat). We had lunch with our Afghan hosts so I had Palau rice and meatballs for lunch - my new US Thanksgiving tradition I think! We sat at long tables and served from huge platters that were passed around. There was fresh Nan bread too, although saying Nan bread is a bit redundant as nan is the word for bread in Dari. I got back to our base around 2000 hrs that night and went to the mess for some soup and a sandwich. I was in time to catch the cooks celebrating their culinary triumph.