Project “Bunker Time”

(1st March – 1 May 2013)

I love my brain. I love the cool brain-wave patterns, images and funny ideas it creates. What I love the most about it is that it does not stop there; it makes me manifest ideas into reality.

…everybody has ideas but only few acts upon them.

I have stated implementing my little art project with just one black marker, flash light and few volunteers that contributed their own shadow. That is all I had. You see, there is no art supply store in the middle of freaking war zone, so you have to be extra creative in managing with just what you have.  

The first victim, as I call him, was Terrence, my funny colleague from Atlanta. He is leaving The Mission so I thought it would be appropriate to have a part of him still here.  This is why I wanted to use real people’s silhouette, because they were here, they sat down on those benches during the rocket attack and they experienced “The bunker time”.

When that alarm goes on something happens to you. It really does. Your entire body chemistry changes in a millisecond and you instinctively (as trained) hit the ground. Call it adrenalin or just bare survival instinct but it is there...alerting your entire senses and miraculously makes you come alive and on guard. (Note to reader:  It is individual experience, so I could be just over-dramatizing to make this blog more interesting to public auditorium, LOL) 

The protocol states that once the alarm goes on you have to be on the ground within 3 seconds and for at least 2 minutes before you seek refuge of the nearest bunker. For those caught in the open, the procedure is standard “duck and dive”. Hit the floor, face down. Cover the eyes. Hope the rocket doesn't land too close for injury or worse. In the bunker, everyone is fully aware of the fact where they are, once again, intact.There is a feeling of gratitude mixed with annoyance that they can sit and talk about inconsequential things and there is reinsurance of being surrounded by colleagues or soldiers - sharing this moment. Then the alarm goes on again and the big voice says the best words you can hear: "All Clear, All Clear", so what do you do? You go back to work. 

Don’t worry kids, I have only had two alarms while being here and they both turned out to be nothing at all so it was more precaution rather than real threat. I have to hand it to the security here; they really are doing the best to keep everybody safe.

~ * ~

Anyhow, I explained Terrence the general concept:” You just sit here, we point a flashlight at you while I mark your shadow on the bunker”.  He laughed out loud and said: “O.K. let’s go”!!!…and that is how it started.

Naturally, Chris contributed with his “Impressively Humongous” camera, hehehe… documenting the process so he also ended up on the wall.  The rest of the “shadows” just followed. As soon as I shown people what I had in mind, it was easy.  I talked to The Site Manager who is a very cool Bosnian guy but bit skeptical about the idea. He wanted to help me with providing all the material that I could use so it felt good I had support. The colors will be very basic (Black and white) because I want to see if this is successful project and then I will go crazy and order some more paint in various colors for other bunkers.

Most of the people I convinced to participate are those who are the usual suspects from the “behind the building – smoking area”. I see them every day, several times so it was easy to spread my idea while having a smoke or two.

Shadows kept filling the walls of bunker and it was time to order the paint. Chris helped me a lot, he ordered the canisters from US and the day they arrived I was jumping of joy. Few black and white paint cans do that to the deprived artist…what did you expect?!! 

Ohh boy-o-boy… it raised some attention, as the first creative initiative in this camp I got interview by the public relation guy who decided to write an article about it. (I protested…hehehe….yeah right?!!!).

I didn’t mind really, because I was not doing this for anybody but myself and people who shared “Bunker time” in the war zone.  So, yes giving the interview was not a problem. J

The news traveled fast so I would get stopped by some people and they would express their opinion about the entire thing. It is always nice to hear people thoughts especially when they ask me questions like … “…so how come you are doing this?!”, “This is cool, what made you start this??!”, or simply “You are crazy, I like it!!”.

I laughed and thought… “If I had a penny for every time somebody asked me these same questions
…man…I think I would go to my early retirement and not think about money for a long time.



Special thanks to Chris, my partner in crime, photographer and cool Master Artist Assistant. 

What I have learned in Afghanistan - Vol.1

...After 4 months in the country…

1.       I brought the wroooong shoes for this place!

2.       You can make a pillow case out of big T-shirt. (This comes to use, if you can’t afford one, yet)

3.       Wet tissues become your daily hygiene anti-germ protection.

4.       Locket, Earplugs, Eye cover and warm sleeping bag can be your best friends in a tent full of women.

5.       General common sense does not apply here.

6.       You get use to the noise but not the smell.

7.       Being a female is equivalent to being a star. People keep staring at you, want to get to know you and … oh well…

8.       If you are a guy, don’t use showers on Thursday’s, because it is “Happy Man-love day”. (Well unless you want company of another guy to sope &sponge you up, real good!)

9.       Don’t eat Indian chilly-chicken, Kentucky fry chicken and a chocolate cheesecake at once, you might throw up. (This is more, note-to-self).

10.   Running on muddy streets is an adventure for itself. Running with KH3 Halfwits is a memorable experience.

11.   No matter where I go, I bring my craziness with me. (Note to self: Please, for the love of God…act normal, Maja!)

12.   My black winter jacket in love with the floor. Nasty, dusty floor! I’m telling you, I clean that jacket at least 5-6 times a day… I’m beginning to think this weird thing that’s happening is turning into a serious thing. That’s another thing…what the hell possessed me to bring anything in black color… It’s a freaking desert! D’oh!

13.   The people of Afghanistan are called Afghans and not Afghanis which is the currency!

14.   Afghanistan's national game is called Buzkashi, or in other words, goat-grabbing. It's a sport where the players in two teams try to catch a goat while riding on a horse. It has been played for centuries and it even got sponsors for it nowadays. If you want to see how it’s done watch a historic documentary called “Rambo III”, you know where Rambo helps the Taliban to fight The Russians (What a mistake to make!).

15.   Poetry is a big part of Afghans' culture and it has been for centuries. I heard that in some cities, women, men and children gather on Thursday night to share verses from old and new poetry.

(On that note: I miss Sarajevo’s POETS night, only we do it on Fridays and the real term is: “Piss Off Early Tomorrow is Saturday”)

16.   I never knew food could taste like plastic until I got here. (Literally, no joke…) It is divided into three categories Green, Yellow and Red. Green – low on fat, Yellow – Medium and Red is all the delicious French fries, Buffalo wings, bacon and Ice cream. Take a wild guess what I am eating??!

I’m eating “colorful food”…duhh…one must resist the temptation in order to look good in my upcoming R&R bikini vacation. (           Ohh…Vanity – my favorite sin)

17.   I miss this thing called “weekend” – Its nonexistent element here, because every day is the same.

18.   Laughing out loud after pulling 16h day shift, not because something is that funny but just because your body’s self-preservation mode is “ON” and it is the only thing you can rely.

 

19.   Oh, what else … ah yes, personal hygiene is optional for some people. One would think the ladies are ah well “ladies”, but no… there are some nasty ill-mannered creatures among us. Cleaning behind you in lavatory is not optional it’s a rule… hello??? And don’t even get me started on “washing hands”…. Huh. While there are some men here, OMG I kid you not, they have not showered in a loooooong time. Phew. Seriously, I dread the summer and high temperatures and facing the boiling pooh pond and the increase of the smelly BO in the Office building. They told me that I should wear flip flops in the shower because I can get athletes foot. You know that nasty yeast that eats your skin and makes it itch so bad that your in-between toes start to bleed. Oh yeah…that is NASTY. So my dear flipi-floppy’s… you are going to save me! Thank you Maja for being smart and bringing Flip-flops and special foot cream protection. (I love talking to myself in second person it’s like tapping myself on the shoulder for doing a good job – So, don’t judge before you try it!  Whaaaat??! It’s comforting. LoL)

20.   The most important thing – and I’m glad to say this, is making friends. Sticking together and laughing to everyday nonsense helps calm the soul. Regardless on the stress we are facing whether if it’s here or back home, it makes tremendous difference if you have someone to talk to and share. Things get pretty rough. Environment is harsh, work stress is very elevated and people you deal with appear to like those guys from: “dumber and dumber” . So, it is natural your fuse gets shorter the longer you stay here. We all follow are rules and obey the guidelines but at the end of the day we are only humans and it is natural that we overreact. Friends come in hand with a simple “It’s going to be OK” or providing that perfect bad joke that turns almost unbearable situation into out loud laughter. It is good to have friends that care. So in that regards, thank you: Chris, Jelena, Igor, Mickey, Cathy and Diana! J

Note: Thanks to all my friends back home who took the time to help my mom recover from her surgery. Thank you for calling and informing me about everything because you were my eyes and ears and even though I am not there…. You are always with me!

“If you go looking for a friend, you’re going to find they’re very scarce. If you go out to be a friend, you’ll find them everywhere”

…To be continued…since I’m still here!

Getting Somewhere

The way to avoid mistakes is to avoid doing anything. But that ends up being the biggest mistake of all.

Instead of living in fear of making a mistake, live in awe of the magnificent possibilities. Grab the opportunities, run with them, and any mistakes you make along the way will be quickly forgotten in the brilliant light of your achievements.

Don’t specifically seek to make mistakes, or to appear foolish, or to offend innocent people. But don’t cower in fear of those things either.

If you should happen to look silly or to make a few missteps on the way to fulfilling your highest vision, so what?  What’s important is not keeping up appearances, but rather staying focused on bringing real value to life. Do your best to get it right, and don’t be stopped by the fear of getting it wrong. Give your full attention and commitment to the task, and you’ll quickly learn how to consistently move forward. If you should happen to stumble along the way, see it as a confirmation that you’re getting somewhere. Keep going, keep learning, keep experiencing the ups and downs, and you’ll keep adding real value to all of life.

I’ve opened my e-mail this morning and this is the message I found. What a great message it its and it could not have come in a better time.

I have left my country, family and friends two months ago and replaced my home and comfort for metal container, with a bed & A/C that I call “My room” and an office in a camp surrounded by barb wire. My life is now at a war zone in Afghanistan. Dusty streets, convoys of armor vehicles, fully armed soldiers, bunkers and fire jet’s taking off every now and then disappearing in the distance.

I keep waiting for this notion to hit me in the head where I get for some sort of panic attack resulting - me screaming: “What the fuck am I doing here!!??”… But no… I am surprisingly calm and very busy. 

This is puzzling me. Really, it does. I have no life beside: Wake up, get dressed, work, go to lunch (with my new wacky friends), work, have coffee/cigarette break, do the laundry, work some more, then shower and go to bed.

It resembles a lot that movie “Ground Hogg’s day”, you know the one with Billy Murray, where he wakes up every morning and it is the same day every day. The funny part of that movie is that he manages to do everything once he accepts his fate. I guess that is why I am calm, I am accepting my fate.

“Acceptance” – what a powerful word.

I have accepted my way of living and the lifestyle but knowing my personality I am willing to spice things up by making some changes. Yes. I might have left family, friends, parties and alcohol but I cannot, for the life of me give up on my need to express myself.

Oooh-Ohhh….what am I up to now?  - You must be thinking.

Well, after a month of contemplating what to do after I’m done with work, I came up with a brilliant idea… paint.

I had this feeling that just did not want to subside. It was born from the basic need to cut my every day routine, so what better way to do it than to have some distraction while doing something unusually creative. Drawing on paper did not appeal to me right now, so I had to find something else…something that is totally Afghan, current and yet applicable to our immediate environment.  Then one day it hit me…I was looking at it almost every day…

Bunkers!

Oh yes, you have read it correctly. I want to paint the inside of the bunker! It is a square concrete block that can fit up to 20-30 people sitting on both sides. Sometimes they are covered by sand bags for additional protection so the inside would be perfect to do something different.

 Since I would be painting on the companies’ property, I had to ask for the permeation.

…And what do you know, I got one!

I have cornered the Chief of Staff one morning and explained my project and now he wants to be a part of it. (Hehehe) It always fascinates me how people like to follow the wacky ideas.

( Eg. “Gangam Style”, no need to explain any further).

The weal’s are in motion soon as I got the "green light". I will keep it simple due to my very limited selection of paint but if it turns out to be successful, who knows maybe I will get funds to continue with my artcy-fartcy project for the remaining ones. All I need right now is few extra souls who are willing to join me with their contribution, oh and slightly warmer weather.

So yeah, for all of you out there who are wondering how am I doing. I’m doing just fine! I have goals! Small, but fun little adventures that takes me places. Yes, I am getting somewhere, I am doing things. It might be success it might fail but I am happy for trying and doing SOMETHING for a change.

In the end...I am leaving you with this folowing note...

So, what are you going to do today??!

"Area fifty poo"

“Area fifty poo”, “The shit lake”, “Willy Wonka and the chocolate factory”, "Area fifty poo"

…Or “The Poo Pond,” as the servicemen affectionately call the place, is an enormous liquid pit for all the human waste at the airfield. That’s not a small amount: The airfield is a small city, with over 20,000 men and woman at the moment, oh yeah…it is pretty big, although there is nothing, I repeat nothing pretty about it.
Normally back home you don’t think about these things. Like I’ve said “Normally” you have your toilet-sewage that takes care of stuff and you never stop to think where does it go…but…  avoiding the lake-sized pool of human excrement that fills a section of the sprawling American and NATO base known as Kandahar Air Field is something else. Avoid it you cannot.

The first time I’ve passed by it, I almost gaged. I covered my nose and mouth as I was mentally debating should I endure the smell or breathe to my mouth (but hell, I don’t want this shitty air in my mouth!!!Ijuuu!!!). My new friend Jelena, from Macedonia still gags and almost throws up when we pass by it. Pour thing…but it is very entertaining for the rest of us.


This place is so bad it is a source of lot of jokes and funny signs and mascots. The following pictures pretty much explain everything:

> 
Watching these funny captions, I told one of my friends that these are cool and that “ I need to contribute with something” , and he laughed and said: “Oh Maja, don’t worry, you already are “Contributing” !

Hehehehe…

Also, somebody told me that during one attack, a Taliban rocket struck the pond and disappeared inside. It hasn’t been heard from since. So you see it’s not all bad… it serves other “pooposes” too. (…pun intended! hehehe)  

This brings me to another question. Bottled water!

I avoid drinking the tap water here, just because I’m not comfortable in knowing how it is filtered or God knows what chemicals they use to clean it. So, I drink the bottled water. Being curious by nature, I actually read the label and what do you know, it is produced right here in Kandahar Airfield…so…where do they get this water from???

This is the part of the story where I ask myself, do I really want to know? Maybe, this is the part where that saying: “Ignorance is bliss” kind of thing. So, I will investigate this, no more.
So, enjoy your bathrooms you privileged people!

Enjoy the fact is in your apartment/ house and that you don’t have to go out to use it…Enjoy the nice smelling soaps, hair products and those triple layer toilet papers that smell like lavender. Enjoy the fact that you don’t have to share your toilet/shower with another 5 more people… listening to weird people singing in the shower (Oh, wait that would be me).

So yes, just be happy you are living a privileged life.

KakoDjoe-Uka-LaLe (Go pee and off to bed!)

The airplane landed in Kandahar in early morning and I was greeted by clear blue sky and frisky cold weather. Yes, boys and girls, it gets cold in the desert too. Kandahar is located in the south of Islamic Republic of Afghanistan and it is still considered a war zone. 

The Kandahar Airfield Base (KAF) is franking huge! It’s almost like a small town but accept from the buildings you have tents and containers for accommodation and offices. No stores but PXs (that have the essentials you would need, basically everything is made of sugar or has sugar in it. I know, I read the labels).  About 20% of the roads have pavement, the rest is just dusty, rocky trails that look like roads.

After security checkup we were placed in a transitional small camp called “South Park”.  This sector is made for people who will stay before they get transferred to other camps either inside the camp or small ones throughout the region.

South Park is just like the famous cartoon, I just hope they don’t Kill Kenny at some point! (LOL).  All the residents are just like the characters from the cartoon, they event talk funny.

The coolest part of my first day was the fact I got my helmet and body armor (read: bullet proof west). OMG…I can’t wait to take some photos.  J

We are sleeping in large tent that has bunk beds and wardrobe cabinets. The women’s tent can fit up to 30 women at the time. I was told I have to be here until I get my own room in the camp I will be working.  

The weirdest contraption is the tent A/C which is a tube that looks like a huge “caterpillar” stuck on the tents celling. It blows hot or cold air through its holes and it makes a lot of noise. I was super-duper- mega smart to bring those earplugs with me.

Luckily for me, tents and sleeping bags only trigger happy memories. The sad part of my first stay was the fact that I woke up at 3am with a nasty nose bleed. I’m fine, I adjusted in the following couple of days.

The first person that came to meet me was my colleague, Mickey a funny Macedonian guy who is into martial arts (and what I would learn later, high class dress designer. OK, how random is that?!). No, he is not gay because he show me his hot girlfriend on Facebook. He brought me to the office and introduced me to everyone. I must say, I have pretty cool colleagues. Diverse, professional, cordial and good humored.  By the looks of it, I will be very busy here, which, to be honest is as much concerning as it is exciting. It is concerning because the job, as my pervious one is very responsible and has no room for errors. It’s exciting because I have been provided with the opportunity to work in a very different environment in specific area of expertise.

The work is for 12h a day, 7 days a week. So, yes I don’t have weekends but let’s face it, there is not much here to do, especially since General rule No#1 is NO DRUGS & ALCOHOL!  Considering this fact, I look at this experience as a long de-tox camp. I am sure my liver will appreciate it (at least from Alcohol, coz mi no use no drugs!).

So, my day starts with an irritating sound of my alarm clock and me searching for it in a pitch black darkness of our tent. This lasts for about 2-3 minutes because I almost ALWAYS knock it down on the floor. (Yes, I am very popular amongst my tent roommates). 

The bus takes me to my office (since I don’t have my KAF card yet) so Im pretty much escorted everywhere. The bus driver is Bosnian and he almost always plays” ULTRA Turbo Folk” every morning. It is so bad, you don’t know if you want to cry or laugh. This guy knows the nastiest jokes I have ever heard. Example:

-What is a pregnant woman to a pedophile?    Wait for it………………… Kinder-Suprise!

 (note to reader: If you don’t know what “Kindersuprise is, you seriously never had proper childhood”)

Having said that, I’m limited in meeting a lot of people accept from work and South Park. Mickey was cool enough to introduce me to good folks almost from a start.  I’ve met Jelena, the hottest IT specialist I’ve ever met and I know a lot of IT guys…non of them looked good as her! She looks like a model and she kicks ass in computer stuff, another totally random thing you would expect in a place like this. She and her supervisor Chris have adopted me and now we have lunch and occasional cigarette break. Yes, yes…im still smoking, although my goal is to cut back and quit before summer hits, coz no way in hell I will be smoking on 55 Celsius outside!!!

Like I’ve mentioned earlier, this camp is pretty big. I didn’t see “the fence” in first two weeks. All I see is tents, trucks, cement walls, bunkers, solders and 1 Afghani shop assistant. The only nationality’s I’ve met was American, Macedonian, Kenyan, Mexican, Croatian and Bosnian. Every night I go to South Park and have a cigarette before bed I learn a new joke from the Bosnian bus driver and Kenyan from Daniel, who knows the funniest Bosnian sayings I have ever heard. (What else is he going to learn from us?) This is where I learned my first Kenyan saying:    

KakoDjoe-Uka-LaLe, (Idi pishat pa spavat!), Go pee and off to bed! Apparently this is what Kenyans mom say to their children before bed time. This is the same for us in Bosnia, so naturally I had to learn it because I keep hearing it every night.

Speaking of home, on my fourth day here, I found out that my mother had an emergency operation and they have kept this information from me for almost a week. I found it suspicious that I didn’t heard from her in such a long time and then the e-mail hit me like a truck on highway.  It appears that her gallbladder busted due to a lot of stones that had accumulated. My sister came from Belgrade and she was visiting her in recovery room every day. The surgery was successful and she was recovering just fine.  I am very relieved after hearing this, because I was going through a hell being so helpless on another continent and not been able to do anything for her. I am lucky to have great friends that were willing to help and visit her and give me feedback on her status.

This is what sucks about Afghanistan. Being away from your family on crucial times like these. I know they didn’t want to tell me anything because they feared I would be on the next plane back. But all is well when it ends well.  My mom is doing better, and I back home so we can talk on Skype. That’s another thing. I am so happy I live in this era where I can see and talk to my family and friends with just a mouse click away.

I will try to keep you all posted as soon as I have more time. But know this… appreciate the small fortunes you have been given. Don’t bitch about your hard life because let me tell you, there are worst places to be.

Roger and Out

P.S. I can’t wait to leave South Park and get my own room. Last night I found out that Thursdays is “Man-Love-Shower day”! None of the men take shows accept for “some” that shower together.  I didn’t believe it until I saw two coming out with their shower sponges all giggly and happy. (I forgot to ask if it is the same for woman so I didn’t take a shower, just to be on the safe side). When I came back to the tent I found out that one of the girls Victoria Seacret stuff was stolen, so yeah…I need to leave this tent, ASAP!!!

Leaving for Afghanistan, January 2013

Somehow I always known I was going to end up in some mission.  

They flew me to Dubai to get a week of training which allowed me to explore this amassing city in between mandatory roll calls. I’ve met quite a few Bosnians labor workers and other Balkan nationalities that were going to Afghanistan. From the day one getting to know them the only thing they would do is drink coffee, smoke and bitch about everything. "The hotel sucks, the food is crap, the people are weird", and nothing was right, for them. I’ve tried getting them out of the hotel to explore the city, but no one was interested.

I don’t understand, really. The company paid your flight, the full board and you don’t want to see what is out there? Finally I gave up on them and found a, kinder soul, Mexican guy by the name of Jose that actually gets it.

The best part of this trip was the fact that Dzana, a very good friend from Sarajevo that now works for Quatar Air, had 4 days off so she decided to come to Dubai to visit her friend Nivada who is a flight attendant for the Emirates. Guess what, she was in Dubai the same time I was there.  These girls made my trip! It was so cool to see Dzana again you have no idea how awesome it is to see a friendly face in a foreign land. Naturally, we did what all Bosnians do, got some coffee and talked for hours while commenting the local customs and the attire they were wearing.

Dubai is an interesting place. It is flat, sandy and packed with modern phallic looking buildings and it is ran by other non-Arab nationalities.
Arab’s don’t work, they don’t have to because they are privileged that their government pays them as soon as they are born. The only Arab that Iv actually seen working was the one that have stamped my passport.

Jose and me took on a little adventure in looking for a way to go to Jumeirah beach where the famous BurjArab is located. First we got lost but I didn’t panic because along the way I found the stand with soft coconut that I didn’t drink/ate for over 12 years. I was jumping of joy after I had some. Pour Jose was first confused by my reaction, because as he said…they are on every corner where he lives.  Last time I had them was in India and let me tell you, it brought me back by the first taste of it.

The beach was amazing, just like from a post-card photo… White sand, creamy blue water and proud Burj Aarab in the distance.  I am so smart by bringing my bikini with me. Yey, me!  I don’t wait for things to happen, I make them happen!

That night, Dzana picked me up and we went to Nivada’s apartment, owned by the Air Emirates. The place was amazing and excellently decorated by this lovely Bosnian hoast. She won my heart when she popped up that champagne and welcomed us to Dubai. I made dinner, because…who ever knows me, knows that this is my thing and the way to say thank you for the hospitality. Since I was dressed for Afghanistan, Nivada opened her wardrobe closed and gave me a hot black dress followed by high heals and red lipstick. It was ladies night at Makiki night club which meant the cocktails’ were free. I’m glad she dressed me up, ‘coz I could not enter in casual wear.  The place was packed with all nations and let me tell you, Dubai nightlife can pare up with any major city in the west. Sin city. Prostitution is pretty big In Dubai. Some places like this do not allow traditional outfit’s (So nothing long or covered).  

I really enjoyed myself and the music was awesome and free cocktails’ almost vouch for “good time”. We met a lot of various Middle-Eastern guys who went gaga for Nivada but that is what happens to a blond in this part of the world, plus let’s face it, she is super-hot!

Everything closes after 3 am so we shared a cab back home.

The next day was perfect, I finished some classes online before I came here so I had free afternoon to cruise around with Dzana. We went to Dubai mall that has over 2.500 shops. It is located by Burj Khalifa, The highest single standing building in The world and its amazing musical fountain. You easily get overwhelmed by the Mall’s  size and the varieties of things you want to buy. Luckily for me I was on the budget, so I could not go crazy (because everything was 20-70% discount!). We decided to visit the Dubai Mall aquarium and had super fun imitating and making fun of the sea creatures. It was there when I realized how I miss travelling with Dzana. She is so natural and easy going that is a true blessing. I had to go back to the hotel and she had to fly back to Doha. What a treat in seeing her again!

The next day,  Jose and me wen to see the Dubai Fountain show. It is on every night from 18-24h. Every half an hour they play a song and the fountain turns into this beautiful & magical experience of dancing water and light. I was just like a little kid. Fascinated and genuinely happy! If you are ever in Dubai, don’t miss this, it is an unique experience.

The hotel we were staying had a lot of Indians and I was very happy to be there during their harvest festival. They had made a bonfire by the pool. Started dancing and singing and throwing the first harvest offerings into the flames (peanuts, pop-corn ect). Ofcourse, Iv joined them. I circled the fire 3 times and thank the God for the first harvest and my new job. They welcomed me with the smile and let me dance with them for a while. I miss India. I miss my Indian friends and especially Ninu and her family and I truly hope I will have a chance to visit them soon enough.  

After the morning roll call, almost all the Bosnian guys cornered me to ask what was I doing dancing with the Indians by the fire. They saw me from their balcony and they were all curious in what possessed me to do this?!  (Hehehe…Mahalci*)

Our hotel has about 6-7 night clubs and after 21h it is mayhem.  I sat down one night, watching the girls in high heels and short’n’tight lacey dresses walk by. The face foundation could be as cement and dark and trashy makeup can be compared to transvestites. No, drag queens can give these ladies some make up tips…this was just nasty. But I guess all cats are the same in the dark, so who am I to judge.

Curious by nature, of course I went to check these night clubs. The first one was quite good, the live Pilipino band kicked ass. These petit girls really could sing some though songs, so I was very impressed. It was this or the fact I could drink beer here.  The second one was “authentic Indian night club”. It was dark and fairly empty because it was early in the evening. On the stage there were about 20-30 girls all dressed up in traditional dancing dresses with thick long hair and lots of fake and flashy jewelry. They would start dancing when they call out their name and surprisingly enough there was nothing erotic about it but rather sensual. They would dance songs from some popular Indian soundtracks and once they are finished the guys in front would give them “the crown/tiara” . Puzzled by this custom, Iv asked the waiter what’s up with this “crown” and he said, if you pay 100$ you can chose which girl was the best and if you like her performance she can join your table. I really don’t know what happens later on and what kind of “royal treatment” she gets later all I know is that I am sad about them. They are very young and beautiful girls. It is a shame they don’t have the ability to do something else than this.

I had enough. I went to my room and thanked God for my blessings in life.

Since I got my papers, medical check and green light for Afghanistan, I have decided to treat myself and for my new job to purchase the super extra hot red heals that I simply had to have. What would I do with them in Afghanistan… probably nothing, but I know for sure I will be enjoying them on my R&R (Rest & Relaxation) time! By the end of the next week my name was on the manifest and it was time to go. I had mixed feelings…leaving this paradise and going to a war zone, you have to be crazy not to have feelings of fright. In my case they were spiced up with the feelings of excitement and adventure. I know…im crazy.

Iv packed my things, locked my suitcase and I was ready to go.

Somehow I always known I was going to end up in some mission and here I was…on the plain to Afghani land.