TBH – Prompt #2 – Kandahar, Afghanistan

What is the most dangerous place you’ve ever been to and why did you go?

I’m a little late on the second prompt for The BloggerHop. I set the prompts to post on Sundays but I have had a busy start to the week. So here is the second prompt for Sunday, April 28, 2019. If you would like to learn more about The BloggerHop you can get more information here.

This is actually copied from 2 previous posts that I did years ago as I could not re-write it any better then I did the first time. In a way I know that probably shouldn’t count but my memory is not good enough to re-write it again. I did add some pictures to the bottom of the post from when I was there.

In March of 2009 I hopped on a plane in Ottawa and flew to Dubai, United Arab Emirates and then on to Kandahar, Afghanistan. My mission? To work on the base in Kandahar for 6 months as civilian support. I was 29 years old and this was the furthest from home I had ever been. I only had one week preparation before being shipped off with about 15 other men and women I did not know to a place I had never been to a climate I was not prepared for and a situation that kind got out of hand.

To my credit I did do my research and my father who is ex-military had been to Qatar almost 20 years before. He was familiar with what the housing, food, and “community” living was going to be like. He knew the climate, what I would need to bring with me to wear, what other things I would need with me. So I felt like I was all set.

The plane ride to Dubai was very typical if not a little turbulent. As some one used to being on planes and in the air there was no surprises, just an excitement about what was to come. I couldn’t wait to get there. And I was missing my family and (current) boyfriend already.

In the airport in Dubai we shuffled into a few cabs and hightailed it to the most magnificent hotel I had ever stepped foot in. The hallways and foyer floors were all marble, there was real gold accents everywhere, beautiful crystal chandeliers and accents with water colored by emerald color lights. Outside the hotel the sidewalks were also marble! I was so amazed.

The inside of the hotel room was just as luxurious. My room had 2 king size beds. A Jacuzzi tub, a beautiful marble shower with gold accents. White silk bedding with luxurious cotton and silk sheets. And bath towels so big I could wrap myself 3 times in them. This was the “calm before the storm”. We later found out the company payed more then $600 per night per person.

Back at the airport the next morning and after green McDonalds Chicken Nuggents, we loaded onto a plane that looked like it was out of a bad movie scene. The paint was peeling. You could see where at least 2 other airline logos had been on it and the wings had dings and dents.

Inside was not much better. About 15-20 rows from front to back. 2 seats on each side so I’d guess maybe 60-80 seats if that. The carpet was torn and stained and I swear when you looked down at where the seats were bolted to the floor you could see outside (no joke!). I sat down beside a guy that looked like he was out of an Indiana Jones movie and buckled up.

Shortly after I sat down and while they were still loading a plan a girl (woman) walked on the plane. She was about 19 or 20 if I had to guess. She was dressed in black shiny leggins, a pretty sequined top and 6-7 inch heels, a shiny leather looking surely designer cary on bag. Indiana Jones looks at me and says “I hope to god she’s getting on the wrong plane” and goes back to his book.

We take off and the inside of the plane shakes so much I swear I see bolts coming loose. Indiana Jones smiles at me and says “hold on!”. Oh believe me… I am.

It’s an hour long flight and I am listening to music on my little ipod nano mini and about 40-45 minutes into it I hear a loud whistling sound though the music. I look to my left out the window. I was in the outside seat on the right side of the plane if your heading down the aisle from the front. Indian Jones says “that’s a rocket (missile) , they are trying to hit the plane, don’t worry we are too high up. It’s the landing you need to be worried about”. I put my music back in my ears. 10 more minutes (which seemed like hours), Indian Jones touches my hand to get my attention.

He says “Buckle up Hun, put all your gadgets away, tuck your bag under the seat and hold on”. I shuffle to do this and hold onto the seats with white knuckles. My dad told me about the types of landings the planes need to do in order to avoid the missiles and stuff. Nothing prepares you though. We make a spiraling decent out of the movies and land with a thud and squeal on the tarmac. I grab my stuff and get ready to go. I get as far as the door of the plane and on the boarding ramp (stairs) and half way down when the sirens go off. Indiana Jones who is still with me grabs my arm and steers me under the body of the plane and as far from the wings as possible as the first missile hits a ways away. The ground shakes. And so am I.

We walk double file across the tarmac after the all clear siren goes (you learn the difference between the two sirens as well as any others pretty quickly) and head for a little gated area off the side of the building where we wait for about 40-45 minutes while they slowly trickle us through. Finally I am through the gates. Welcome to Afghanistan! I am finally here.

After getting through the gates, we went on a bumpy and slightly smelly bus ride across the base to pick up our PPE (Personal Protective Equipment), which consists of a duffle bag filled with a protective vest (Kevlar possibly, I don’t remember) and helmet, a gas mask and a flash light. This was to be stored under our beds and donned if you are close enough to it when the sirens go off, which happened again while picking up our PPE and trying it on. After 2 minutes face down on the ground with my arms over my head. I head to a concrete bunker and hang out till the all clear siren.

Next we go get our ID’s and travel around the outskirts of the base, safely just inside the walls to get a view of everything, including the “Shit pond”, which is a small lake that was filed with human waste, cooking oil and grease. The smell gets whipped around the base with the desert winds. It can get quite ripe. But like anything you get used to it. Till you get home to Canada (or where ever) anyways and can not get the smell out of your hair, skin, clothing, and baggage, no matter how much you scrub, wash and rinse. Eventually it fades on skin and hair, for most, in time to go back to KAF after vacation.

Luckily it’s close enough to our tent line that you get used it fast. As well as the sounds of jets, planes and other vehicles, night and day which we were also luckily enough to be right beside. Oh and the constant blasting and testing of missiles and other ammo at the ammunition depot and fields. You really do get used to it though. Makes for a rough first week, coupled with home sickness.

“Home” is a 8ft by 6ft space in a 8 person tent that you share with up to 7 other people of the same sex. Mine was quite cozy with a real dresser, a single bed, a locked storage box, a night table, and one of those 3 tier plastic containers you can store stuff in. I learnt quick to put shoes in there and not leave them on the floor or all kinds of creepy crawly would crawl out when you picked them up.

Prior to the plane trip to KAF, I had a week stay outside Ottawa on an old base or training range. Where we learned CPR and First Aid, fire fighting skills, training on how to recognize land mines, booby traps and any number of natural hazard, including but not limited to: Snakes, scorpions and spiders. We learned to don our gas masks in the dark inside a hut filled with pepper spray gas. I was one of the lucky ones that had been shown how to use it before, minus the pepper spay, when I was on base in Baden-Söellingen, Germany. We also got medicals, immunizations, etc. They were’nt really worried about us getting to know each other. There was plenty of time for that in KAF.

Lunch and supper were usually spend at one of the 4 Dfac’s (no idea what that stands for), which were basically cafeterias, each with a slightly different themes. Aptly named: Niagara, Cambridge, Luxemburg and Far East. They basically served the same items with different spices, garnishes etc to make them more, North American, British, European and Asian foods. There was also a “fancy” restaurant who’s name I have forgotten and a European bakery that served the best black pepper beef pot pies, which was below a European PX (“post exchange” – fancy way of saying store). At the time I was there, along the boardwalk there was a Tim Hortons, a Subway, a Pizza hut, an ice cream stand and some other concessions. Pizza hut quickly became a favorite. Along with Tim’s. Can’t be a proper Canadian without a Tim’s close by.

The next weeks blended together with learning my work, getting acquainted with the lifestyle and people of KAF and missing home, but enjoying myself for the most part. Life at KAF was interesting and the money was good. I bought a cell phone and got internet. They along with food from the board walk or things bought in one of the PX’s or souvenirs from the market or boardwalk were the only things you paid for. Everything else was included, plus a hefty pay. Bottled water was everywhere you looked at the end of every tent row, outside every building, around every corner. Tap water was not potable at KAF and could give you very nasty bugs, parasites, etc.

In the evenings we would sit outside on our decks made of pallets and ply wood in camp chairs around wooden cable drums that served as tables and played cards, talked and played board games or we would go to the gym or grab a late supper at one of the Dfac’s or spent half the evening in a concrete shelter in the dark with maybe 20-30 other people or more trying to get as close to the concrete bunker as possible should a stray rocket get too close for comfort. Though most were duds and half the time they could not hit something no matter how hard they tried.

Once or twice a month there would be a barbecue hosted by the company and we would get 2 beer and have hamburgers, steak, ribs and/or hot dogs. Real stuff sent from the US or Canada. Other then that drinking and drugs of any kind were strictly forbidden. So was fornication of any kind. The “No booze, no sex” rule that also applied to both the Canadian and American troops stationed there. Other nations were not as strict with the no sex rule but the no booze rule was enforced by the base commander and anyone civilians caught doing either were sent home. Not sure what happened to the troops.

On one such occasion (barbecue, not sex), after drinking our beer a guy friend and I decided to go looking for another friend of mine and found her on her deck in front of her tent with another tent mate and a tent mate of my guy friend. We sat down and started talking. About an hour or two later when the barbecue was starting to wind down and people were starting to migrate back to their decks in front of their tents, I felt something crawling on my face. I swatted at it and it bit me. Being used to black fly’s and other things biting me I only mildly paid attention. My friend looked over and said “hold still, you have a spider on you, I can’t see what it is”. It fell on my leg and bit me again, fell and scurried off.

My friend tried to kill it but couldn’t it moved too quick. He thought it was a brown recluse though and told me I needed to get to Role 3 (the Nato Role 3 hospital) fast. I was starting to feel sick to my stomach (from the spider bite or from nerves? I don’t know) and feeling lightheaded. They got a vehicle and in the middle of another rocket attack took me to the hospital. Once I got there I was taken in, put on a saline IV and asked a bunch of questions about what bit me. I couldn’t answer. Someone else said spider but we did not know the kind. I had seen it briefly and they started showing me pictures to try and identify, I passed out.

When I woke up they told me they had given me stuff to stop the spread of the poison. They said even if it was not the spider I thought it was there was plenty other poisonous spiders and other things that could have bitten me and since I was not able kill it and bring it with me they would need to keep an eye on me. I was put on a hospital bed in a ward of about 10 beds. There was other people there including a child I believe. I don’t remember much about the next 2-3 days. After more then 24 hours I was sent back to my tent and told to rest. I slept a lot or just laid on my bed.

After another day or two I was able to get up for 12-20 minutes at a time and a few days later I decided to go back to work, the first day was a bit of a blur. The second day I was feeling better and decided to go to the board walk for my lunch and grab a pizza from Pizza Hut. I ordered and then went to lean against the rail at the other side and wait. A few minutes later I apparently fainted and fell. Unfortunately there was a bench beside me that a few people were sitting on and I smashed my face into the cement post on the back of it.

I woke up when a worker from Pizza Hut pored cold water from a bottle over my head. Not sure how good an idea that was considering my face and shirt were covered in blood. When I saw the blood I passed out again. I am not one to faint at the sight of blood, even my own. But that was a lot of blood. My shirt was saturated in it. And my face stung like a bitch. I still wasn’t sure what was going on.

Three British girls cam rushing to my side, all were medics in the British army. One told me I would need stitches, she lifted me up in her arms and carried me to their vehicle and drove me back to Role 3. Same doctor again: “Boy you must really want to go home”. No… I did not. The girls disappeared. I never got to say thanks. Not that I could, my whole mouth and face was numb. I didn’t hurt yet. He sat me in a wheel chair and disappeared and when it felt like I was going to pass out with pain which did not take long to start or loss of blood, or both he showed up again and said in a lovely accent I did not realize he had, said “It’s busy tonight” and disappeared again. After god knows how long he came back a 3rd time and pushed my wheel chair into an x-ray room.

An American girl about my age or maybe a few years younger took x-rays of my head and wheeled me back to the other area I was in. Then I was brought to the dental part of the hospital and more x-rays, this time dental type ones were taken. They confirmed I had a broken jaw and my front teeth were cracked, but not broken. I also had bitten off about 1/3 of my bottom lip. That concerned me the most. I was scared of scaring. There is some but now it is hardly noticeable. About 20 stitches later in my lip and inside my mouth I was back in one piece. They said my jaw would heal on its own (it did not, I had to have it broken and wired about 6 months later).

I went back to my tent and slept most of the next 2-3 days in a haze of pain. My tent mates and other friends I had made, bought me soup and Gatorade and snuck soups and soft foods into the tent (not supposed to have food in the tents). Until I was well enough to .go to the Dfac again. I ate soft foods the rest of the time I was there. After about 2 weeks I was told I either have to try and get back to work or they were sending me home. My job consisted of talking on the phone alot. 2 hours into my first shift I gave up and tearfully told me supervisor I wanted to go home.

I went back to my tent and a flight to Dubai was arranged for 3 days from then. On the day I left it was a blistering 42°C. The warmest so far. I got back on the plane from hell and we lifted off. I arrived in Dubai roughly an hour later. I left with a friend of mine and a friend of his who were going on their vacation. They decided to go to Egypt. I landed in Halifax to 25°C and was freezing. I was home. :love:

House & Dog Sitting

My parents went to Connecticut on Tuesday for a week to visit our cousins there for a birthday party and they asked us to house & dog sit for the week at their place as well as get my brother back and forth to school every day. We came over Tuesday night to stay for the week. I love their place. It’s actually owned by one of the cousins she’s visiting and her husband.

The house is 170 years old, built in 1849. I wrote about its resident ghost Ethel here a few months back. It’s such a lovely old house but cold and drafty I have not been able to get warm since we’ve been here. I also have a bit of a break from work since my mom won’t be officially training me to be her office manager until she comes back.

We are dog sitting my parents two dogs Scamp who’s about 8 years old now and Karli who is now about a year, both of whom they’ve had since little puppies. Actually, Scamp was the puppy of one of my parent’s previous dogs and I was there when he was born. I named him after he bit (more like chewed or sucked) my mom’s nose the first time she picked him up.

So far it’s been pretty easy. Even my brother has been kind of quiet and mellow and fairly easy to deal with. Edwards has been enjoying himself mostly. We go to our place every morning to check on Max our cat and feed him and cuddle as well as get showers neither of us much like their well water here. It’s really hard and rusty and smells.

They’ll be back mid-week next week. It’s almost sort of like a mini-vacation only not really I’ve been playing a lot of the Sims 4 mostly and watching Shameless and some movies.

Prompt #1 – The time I backed into a wall literally

Write about a time that you accidentally did something funny. What happened and what was the consequences if any?

So as I mentioned in my last post I started a new website called The BloggerHop. Here is the first prompt for Monday, April 22nd, 2019. I am sure there have been many times that I have accidentally did something funny as my husband, my family and my friends will surely be happy to mention. One thing that really stands out in my mind though is when I backed our 2015 Nissan Altima up into a parkade wall while trying to parallel park in a small spot against the wall. First off your probably thinking, that’s not funny right?!

Well at the time I probably would have said you’re right! But looking back on it now it’s funny because I remember mentioning to him only a few days before that I had never ever hit anything when parallel parking and that I was really good at it and would teach him as he’s learning to drive. At the time I was mad but my husband just laughed it off.

I used to work in a call center in a downtown mall in Halifax that had a large parkade for parking. Over the summer they were doing work on the parkade and it was always a fight to get parking. I remember specifically driving around and around for 15 to 20 minutes and sometimes 45 minutes or more looking for a parking spot every day but Sunday. Sundays were never very busy.

That day was no exception. I remember it was more than a half hour before I gave up finding a spot and was about to try a more expensive parkade a few blocks away. Having a monthly pass that was already paid for I really didn’t want to do that. As I was driving by I noticed a parallel parking space that had a running car in it. When I drove by it looked like they were leaving not coming.

I drove around again and the spot was empty. It was fairly small and my car was not so small but it looked like I would have no issues getting into it as there was a really tiny car in front so I had a bit more space. I signalled even though no one was around watching, thankfully! As I was backing into the spot I failed to remember that there was a wall on one side. Something I wasn’t used to as I never parked in those spots unless it was an end one typically as I wouldn’t fit.

Most parallel parking I did, and living in a city known for its lack of parking I did a lot, was all along curbs typically and not walls. So I never really took into account where the corner of my car was and where the wall was. As I am backing up I feel a bang and jolt. I stopped and got out and realized I hit that wall and not another car thankfully. I was able to still get in the spot but just barely.

After I got out of the car I called Eddie and said “remember a few weeks ago when you dropped your brand new cell phone on the pavement and it shattered?” he says “Yes” and I say “well, keep that in mind when I tell you what I just did”, he laughs nervously and says “okay”. So I proceed to tell him what happened. He wasn’t mad at all. But he has never let me live it down. Ever time I go to parallel park he asks me if there are any walls close by