Jorge ye? (How are you?)

Here's another chapter in my travels in Afghanistan...

Several weeks ago, we received information that anti-coalition militants were specifically targeting me. Even being in a third-world country, satellite communication technology allows for pretty decent communications not only amongst ourselves, but among terrorists as well. On one recent outing, the locals were able to physically track me down after only a few phone calls, even though I was over 100 kilometers away! This was a real wake up call. We thought we had taken all of the precautions. Somehow, we were setting a pattern and spotters were reporting our location. In order to foil the spotters, we started leaving in the middle of the night and driving "black out" or with no lights with night vision goggles on. The most difficult thing when driving with night vision goggles is getting used to seeing with limited depth perception and virtually zero peripheral vision. Imagine looking through a paper towel tube with one eye shut and driving down the freeway and you get a good feel of what it is like.

During one recent late night trip, we were traveling along a farm road rolling at a little over 30 miles an hour when a dog the size of a horse comes up from behind our vehicle. Cujo's bark/growl/gnashing of teeth were this raspy sound only heard from rabid dogs from the depths of hell. After being on edge with the recent security situation, I nearly wet my pants. My immediate reaction was to shoot and I swung my rifle around. Luckily for the dog, the speed at which we were traveling quickly put it behind us. I avoided a very embarrassing moment that night. I don't think the men would let me forget the day that I shot Rover!

Last week was a very rewarding experience and makes up for many of the horrible things that I see here. The hospital in Lashkar Gah is very rudimentary and quite barbaric. It doesn't have the familiar smell of disinfectant like most hospitals in the US. Instead, a musky odor hangs heavily in the air.

I befriended the Doctor in charge of the hospital and we have had many great talks about the health care system (or lack of one) in Afghanistan. I asked for a list of equipment that he needed and he provided one. Among the extensive list, that he provided was an autoclave. His current method of prepping instruments was by boiling water and the technique is simply not adequate. Secondary infections were common due to the lack of a tool to sterilize equipment and hence the strong musky odor in the hospital.

We located a container of medical equipment donated by an organization from the U.S. It was just sitting there with little information. Without knowing what it was, we claimed it and began an inventory. Among other things, we found a jewel in the pile of gear, two autoclaves. We delivered the equipment last week and the visit was very touching. The Doctor was nearly in tears and I was moved. With the addition of the sterilization equipment, I'm sure we just advanced his medical technology 70 years in one day. I finished the visit by handing out personal hygiene kits (soap, toothbrush, toothpaste, washcloth, etc.) to each patient in the hospital. It was an incredible sight. The pain and happiness that I saw that day made for a very strange mix of emotions.

A couple of weeks ago, a gentleman came to our gate requesting to speak with us. I don't talk to every Mohammad, Akmed, and Ullah (Tom, Dick and Harry) that comes by, so my sergeant handled the visit. It turns out that the man speaks English, is an Afghan-American and runs a non-profit organization that is building a school nearby. He is originally from the area, but has relocated to America; Portland, Oregon to be exact. After learning this, I decided to visit to see what he was about and how I could help. I couldn't pass up the opportunity to talk to someone from home.

It turns out that Dr. Kharoti, was in the country for a month while he made repairs to a school in the village where he came from. He's been coming for the last several years, slowly rebuilding the school. His son and daughter were both with him this trip and they are college students in the US. It was nice to talk to Americans again. We dropped off a huge school supplies box (paper, pencils, chalk, maps, books, etc.). They were completely shocked just by the school supplies and very grateful for the gift. (Little do they know that I have a shipping container of the stuff and I give it away all of the time!) After conducting an assessment of the school, I determined that I could help. I sent a construction contractor the next day to provide me cost estimates. As of this writing, work has started on the repairs of the school.

I recently returned from a four-day romp through the desert. We met with local tribal leaders and police commanders. My goal was to make new friends and establish points of contacts in preparation for the elections. Many of the places we visited were unspeakably dirty, broken buildings that served as the equivalent of a county administrative building and sheriff's office. One building we visited had no roof and two sides blown out. The locals piled boards along the roof and one of the sides and layered it with a prickly bush commonly found in the desert (a tumbleweed). Every 15 minutes, a kid with a bucket would douse the tumbleweeds with water. The water would evaporate and cause a cooling effect. Afghan air conditioning! It was a welcome retreat from the 122 degree weather that day.

The district chieftain invited us for lunch. We soon learned a disadvantage to Afghan air conditioning. When the kid emptied the bucket, the water would disturb the frogs stacked nose to tail at the base of the water laden tumbleweeds and hop out onto the table (Afghans eat on the floor.). You soon got used to the frogs, but you had to look down to make sure you knew what you were picking up while you ate and talked. It sounds unbelievable, but it's true!

Here's a few recent pics.

	The first one is of me and a Police Chief in one of the districts I've visited recently. The short guy to my left is a hard core mujahadeen (freedom fighter). I called him my "Afghan Marine" because I thought his uniform looked like a US Marine uniform from World War II.
The other picture was taken at a school that I'm helping to rebuild. The woman is Sultana and is Dr. Kharoti's daughter. She's pre-dental college student in the US.

Thanks for all of your great emails. Keep 'em coming!

Khuday pe aman (Goodbye)

Mitch S.
Major, US Army
Civil Affairs Officer
Lashkar Gah Provincial Reconstruction Team
Operation Enduring Freedom-Afghanistan