Normalcy

I finally uploaded some pictures onto Facebook. I had to do it a backdoor way but that just makes it all that much better (for the record I was going to say funner there but that isn’t a word).

I made the mistake of working out with Sgt Cuellar (Quay-ar) here and I was feeling the after effects for several days after. For some strange reason I am actually considering going back tonight for another round. I eat dinner and play basketball with Sgt Cuellar so he finally convinced me that working out with him would be beneficial to me. I didn’t realize until after I agreed to the workout that Marines can be pretty sadistic.

I am finally getting into a routine here and I actually have more time for sleep now, not that I get the sleep but I have the time for it.

Being here means that my reality and concept of normal has to change or else I will most likely lose my mind. When I am home the idea of normal is to wake up, shower, get dressed, go to work, come home and hang out with the family, eat, play and sleep. Here it isn’t all the different except for the hanging out with family part. The differences are in the details.

Sleep requires you to filter out sounds of 9 other people in the tent, helicopters landing to drop the Bahraini soldiers off at their complex right next to us and blocking out every spring in the mattress because they are all poking you.

Showering requires wearing shower shoes, taking Navy showers, being naked in front of 8 to 12 other guys, and then putting on flip flops to walk the 300 yards back to your tent. By the time you get back you are almost as dirty and as sweating as when you started the process. This doesn’t even touch the concept of not flushing a toilet and being used to it.

Brushing your teeth requires a bottle of water because you don’t want to chance using the local water. If you do, you may get some Afghani revenge.

Going to work involves walking in the moon dust and getting there covered in a fine dust that isn’t quite sand but it isn’t dust either. Every step brings a cloud of red grime right under you.

Coming home typically involves driving over a “speed bump” that is really just the track of a tank that has been taken off, chopped up and laid in the middle of the dirt path.

Eating involves shuffling around with 300 Marines, civilians and contractors for the same food that you had last week only to realize that nothing changed from the week before.

The concept of play and free time is similar except that each and every one of use has the mouth of a sailor and occasional wrestling matches break out from nowhere.

Repeat.

So if you don’t get used to the fact that you can’t take a 15 minute shower and drink the water or that you can’t just decide to order Chinese for dinner, you will literally drive yourself crazy. In the month that I have been here I have seen it. People who refuse to adjust to what is now normal. Those people are miserable and occasionally try to force the military to send them home via a failed suicide attempt. I have seen two such occasions since I have been here.

I now understand why people may have difficultly going home or leaving this. I didn’t before but I do now. When you spend enough time here, you will lose your concept of what normal is and how you should act as a regular part of society. I have met people here who have been deployed since Bosnia. For those of you who don’t know, that is a very long time.

Thankfully I am only here for 6 months and I think Jessica would divorce me if I stopped flushing the toilet.