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Time to once again open my life up a little in order to share the plethora of wealth I'm about to absorb. I'm going to be back in Iraq through September, so hop on board and check back every couple of days, I'll do my best to update as much as possible. Questions? dtate38@cox.net And check out the site I'm working with: http://www.billroggio.com Support independent journalism!
Monday, August 30, 2004
From nothing to everything at mach 20 is how I describe yesterday morning. One minute I have the day off, the next, life has just took a big step on you.
I made it to the ISAF side of Kabul International Airport and met up with one of those real colorful people you meet in life. An Army reservist from Virginia Beach, Sgt. Linda Lucas. Linda is one of those flamboyant type of African-American women that are often exagerated on comedy shows. Except no exageration here, Linda Lucas is bonafied fun.
"Heyyyy Baby!! How's it going???"
Loud and wide open, an infectious personality that you will either love or hate. Everyone knows Linda Lucas here. Mother of two grown women just enjoying her time here in Afghanistan. She has a pretty good job. She's just one of a small handful (she says two) of Americans on this base which is full of Europeans. They even have beer tents here (unheard of on a U.S. base).
Her job is to keep track of VIP's, and today, I'm one of them. So is the Asst. Secretary of State and the Albanian President. We spend an hour or two together, where in one very telling scene, Linda picks up a drawing made by a local Afghan. The drawing is taken from a picture of her daughter and son-in-law. "I sent him back three times. There was just something wrong with her eyes." Not this time, Linda was so tickled about the drawing that she couldn't help but let everyone know. "My baby... I knew he could do it!!"
After her exhuberance came pay time. The Afghan had to take it back three times before it was right and was hoping his hard work meant a tip. On the other hand, Linda had to send it back three times and she wanted a discount. Afterall, she was planning on another 5-6 pictures over the next few months. "He doesn't know it, but he's getting a good tip at the end."
The artist sucked up a $10 discount and swallowed his pride. $100 dollars. "I need it for rent..." he said.
After being at the base more than four hours now, I was getting itchy. I had Lucas take me out to the waiting C-130. Her job was to get me on the plane. I knew my chances were fine on my own, but appreciated the help. As we pulled up, I was right. It was the Texas crew flying a West Virginia plane. The same one I landed at Shindand with before. No problems there. They said they'd manifest me and make room. Lucas was rid of me to concentrate on Albania's president.
After at least another 90 minutes, the platoon of Afghan National Police were marching their way down the tarmac toward the plane. The crew just got word that 60, not 50 cops were coming. Time to change the paperwork. These AFP are being sent to the Shindand area to help with electiuon security. No one would tell me how many, but I know of at least 200 ANP in addition to the 1,500 ANA that have deployed to Shindand this month. Once I update the story, I can get home and concentrate on the bureau's election plans.
The ANP loaded up and got ready for their flight. Like before, I noticed that many opf these men had vever flown before and were facinated with the prospect of flying and the plane that surrounded them. It was actually a little comical watching them look around and try to figure out their seatbelt. Small amuzements.
Seconds after starting the propeller, I hear a wierd noise and see the crew chief drag his finger across his throat. Never a good sign. Sure enough, we had some engine trouble and we were not going to Herat that night. The ANP were quickly marched away, which sealed the decision to make way for the front gate. Once out of the base, I saw the ANP guys waiting in the parking lot I usually catch a cab in. The trucks pull up and the guys are egging me on, so I jumped in the back with them for a trip through Kabul with the ANP.
It's always fun doing that sort of stuff. It really adds the context to what you're reporting on. I enjoy those little things as much as anything. To be honest, I have found such great hospitality here. It's just tough knowing there's an element that would enjoy chopping my head off. Can you imagine living in a town where maybe 5% were active Jeffrey Dahmer's? Keeps your adrenalilne running!
Back in Kabul we came to my turn and I had to get the guys to stop the truck. The driver finaly heard the shouts and stopped. I jumped out, was thrown my pack and waved good-bye to the smiling newly trained membeers of the Afghan National Police. Most were young, some middle aged. All in crisp, new uniforms. The color of the uniforms is a light gray with bold and impressive looking government patches. They all have those rigid Castro looking hats on. They were obviously carrying a message of professionalism that the central government wants to stress. They also carried assault rifles and RPG's for other things they want to stress. Not your typical police force..
In an ironic twist, I was dropped off in front of the main hospital, where things would soon get very busy. That's because it was right about this time that a huge bomb went off.
I made it to the ISAF side of Kabul International Airport and met up with one of those real colorful people you meet in life. An Army reservist from Virginia Beach, Sgt. Linda Lucas. Linda is one of those flamboyant type of African-American women that are often exagerated on comedy shows. Except no exageration here, Linda Lucas is bonafied fun.
"Heyyyy Baby!! How's it going???"
Loud and wide open, an infectious personality that you will either love or hate. Everyone knows Linda Lucas here. Mother of two grown women just enjoying her time here in Afghanistan. She has a pretty good job. She's just one of a small handful (she says two) of Americans on this base which is full of Europeans. They even have beer tents here (unheard of on a U.S. base).
Her job is to keep track of VIP's, and today, I'm one of them. So is the Asst. Secretary of State and the Albanian President. We spend an hour or two together, where in one very telling scene, Linda picks up a drawing made by a local Afghan. The drawing is taken from a picture of her daughter and son-in-law. "I sent him back three times. There was just something wrong with her eyes." Not this time, Linda was so tickled about the drawing that she couldn't help but let everyone know. "My baby... I knew he could do it!!"
After her exhuberance came pay time. The Afghan had to take it back three times before it was right and was hoping his hard work meant a tip. On the other hand, Linda had to send it back three times and she wanted a discount. Afterall, she was planning on another 5-6 pictures over the next few months. "He doesn't know it, but he's getting a good tip at the end."
The artist sucked up a $10 discount and swallowed his pride. $100 dollars. "I need it for rent..." he said.
After being at the base more than four hours now, I was getting itchy. I had Lucas take me out to the waiting C-130. Her job was to get me on the plane. I knew my chances were fine on my own, but appreciated the help. As we pulled up, I was right. It was the Texas crew flying a West Virginia plane. The same one I landed at Shindand with before. No problems there. They said they'd manifest me and make room. Lucas was rid of me to concentrate on Albania's president.
After at least another 90 minutes, the platoon of Afghan National Police were marching their way down the tarmac toward the plane. The crew just got word that 60, not 50 cops were coming. Time to change the paperwork. These AFP are being sent to the Shindand area to help with electiuon security. No one would tell me how many, but I know of at least 200 ANP in addition to the 1,500 ANA that have deployed to Shindand this month. Once I update the story, I can get home and concentrate on the bureau's election plans.
The ANP loaded up and got ready for their flight. Like before, I noticed that many opf these men had vever flown before and were facinated with the prospect of flying and the plane that surrounded them. It was actually a little comical watching them look around and try to figure out their seatbelt. Small amuzements.
Seconds after starting the propeller, I hear a wierd noise and see the crew chief drag his finger across his throat. Never a good sign. Sure enough, we had some engine trouble and we were not going to Herat that night. The ANP were quickly marched away, which sealed the decision to make way for the front gate. Once out of the base, I saw the ANP guys waiting in the parking lot I usually catch a cab in. The trucks pull up and the guys are egging me on, so I jumped in the back with them for a trip through Kabul with the ANP.
It's always fun doing that sort of stuff. It really adds the context to what you're reporting on. I enjoy those little things as much as anything. To be honest, I have found such great hospitality here. It's just tough knowing there's an element that would enjoy chopping my head off. Can you imagine living in a town where maybe 5% were active Jeffrey Dahmer's? Keeps your adrenalilne running!
Back in Kabul we came to my turn and I had to get the guys to stop the truck. The driver finaly heard the shouts and stopped. I jumped out, was thrown my pack and waved good-bye to the smiling newly trained membeers of the Afghan National Police. Most were young, some middle aged. All in crisp, new uniforms. The color of the uniforms is a light gray with bold and impressive looking government patches. They all have those rigid Castro looking hats on. They were obviously carrying a message of professionalism that the central government wants to stress. They also carried assault rifles and RPG's for other things they want to stress. Not your typical police force..
In an ironic twist, I was dropped off in front of the main hospital, where things would soon get very busy. That's because it was right about this time that a huge bomb went off.
