08/18/2010

I’m not going to be writing every day, I’m sure, but as long as I need to get stuff out of my mind, I’m probably going to use this as the venue for it.

My view from the hotel of the Texas Motor Speedway

In the time I’ve been here at the Marriott, I have had three very intense days and have gotten to know three people very well. Two of them are males, one female. They’ve all been overseas before, all have held contract jobs, none have been to Afghanistan, and I’ve heard all of their stories about why they’re going. The other female is in a world of financial hurt. When we first started chatting, she told me that her biggest worry was the money. She has debt and the main reason she’s going this time is to get out of that. One of the guys wants to make a better life for his soon-to-be wife. He and I sat for about two hours one night at dinner and talked about our significant others. Anybody within earshot would have thought it was disgusting. Thankfully, the nearest tables were unoccupied. The other guy is like a male version of me. He’s a lot of fun to chat with, and our daily abuse has been entertaining for the others around us. The four of us have had a few meals together, all had to be retested for our blood pressure together and ended up being in the same group because of our last names. Though it’s only been three days, I’ve gotten to really like them. At lunch, when I found out the first two I talked about were going home, I was very sad… both for my reasons and for theirs. They need the money so desperately. Both have been given the opportunity to get clearance from their doctors and try again within the next few days. It sounds like both are going to try. But this whole time, I’ve been thinking about how awesome it would be to see them over there. It’s not guaranteed that we’d even be working on the same Base, but we could totally keep in touch with each other and provide as much support for the others as we could manage while we’re all going through the same thing.

I told the female today how sad I was that she was leaving and how much I was looking forward to going through the whole process with her. She felt the same way. She kept telling me that she knows that there’s a reason that she’s not being sent over there right now. She wants to try again but she’s not going to go crazy over it. She’s had quite a few tours in so many places but it sounds like she needs this one more than any others.

At this exact moment in time, I have no idea if I’m going or not. I don’t know if all of my medical results are back. I don’t know if the background has been done. I don’t know much of anything. Unless I hear in the next few hours that I’m going home, I’ll be starting my malaria pills tonight. And though I still have one great friend to harass while I’m there, if I go, it’ll be without two other great friends. I’m sure I’ll make more when I’m there, but when you get to start the whole process and train together, you get to know each other in a different way than just arriving at work and trying to blend in to what’s already there.

The younger of the two guys is going over there to be a firefighter. Again, no guarantee, but there’s a good chance that I’ll be his dispatcher. It’s nice to already know someone that’s going to be on the other side of the radio.

I might head downstairs in two hours and find out that I’m going to the other side of the world tomorrow. I might be stuck here for two weeks before I can head over. It might even be a month. There are people wandering around this Marriott who have been in that boat. I’m going to be working in Afghanistan for a year. Not that I really want to rush time, but I do look forward to getting home at the end of that year. It would be great to get it started. I’m sure the rest of those people feel the same way. Apparently it depends on a lot of factors—whether they can get a flight, if there are living accommodations for them, if the job position is open… all sorts of stuff is coming in to play that none of us really anticipated. But that’s okay. It really is part of what makes this such a big adventure. The speculations are great. It seems that there really is a good chance that I’ll be sleeping in a tent for a while, especially if we end up at a Base that isn’t even built yet. And that is very possible. It’ll be funny, really. I can take pictures of my tent and know that half of you will laugh your tails off, pointing, snickering, and saying “I told you so”, and the other half will feel sorry for me. No need for that though. I signed up for this. Willingly!

On the other hand, if I’m told tonight that I’m going home, so be it. I was talking to a guy last night who currently lives in Nevada. He’s a father of 7 (!!!) and wants to do at least one year in order to get ahead of the game for the family. He’s a young guy, very optimistic, very nice to talk with. We were speculating about the possibility of getting sent home and I told him that even if that happens, I’m so proud of myself for getting to this point. I never thought I would do so, and I have. Yes, I’d LOVE to be able to say that I did a year overseas in a war zone (and there is no shortage of people around here who remind us of that on an hourly basis), but even getting to this point, I’ve learned so much about myself. So much more than most people get to. That’s cool. I’m so thankful for this whole opportunity. Already some great friendships, a nice little vacation (in spite of the paperwork, hoop jumping, and shots), a lot of new knowledge, and some heat, rain, and thunder to bring it all together. This has already been a rough ride, but it’s been fun. Can’t wait to see what’s next.