I realized early on that if I was going to survive the next sixth months, I was going to have to get used to living outside of my comfort zone. The reality of going of war hit me as a large group of us boarded a C-17 in the early morning hours on what was going to be the last leg of our journey to Bagram Air Field, Afghanistan. I had survived about 4 days living in the sub-zero temps in Manas (pronounce it Man-us or Mon-as, it makes no difference...an AF deployed member will know exactly where you are talking about) and I didn't care what was in store for me at Bagram as long as it included warmer temperatures.
The first 48 hours were focused on getting settled, learning the ropes of my new job, and developing an attached at the hip relationship with my newly issued M-9 revolver. I am being serious here. Article 15's are a given for anyone who loses "positive control of their weapon" which is to be worn anytime you step outside of the hospital. I couldn't help but laugh under my breath when remembering Bella's comment about me carrying a weapon out here. "Mommy, be careful not to shoot your toe off." She is as confident in my "warrior" skills as I am.
It was great to see a familiar face shortly after I arrived. MAJ Cole (Renee) was a colleague and fellow dietitian that I worked with in San Antonio. She had been in theater 11 months when I arrived and was getting ready to re-deploy. As the only other dietitian in Afghanistan, I was going to assume some of her duties as the Nutrition Consultant for U.S. Forces in Afghanistan.
One thing I told myself before I left the States was that I was not going to let anyone talk me into taking part in any craziness off base. I was perfectly fine having a boring 179 days if it meant that I was not putting myself in harm's way any more than I already was. By the time I made it to the fifth night, I had already experienced 3 "incoming" which are indirect rocket attacks the nationals or Taliban orchestrate from their villages just oustide base. This experience was enough to make me move from a "B-Hut" which is basically a one person wooden shack with de-attached restroom facilities to the dorm which was safer in my mind. The dorm and did not require sheltering in a bunker during "incoming" and had luxurious showers and toliet stalls just a few feet away.
Well, before I knew it (it was actually about 2 weeks after my arrival) I was on a Black Hawk helicopter with Renee departing for Kabul to provide some much needed nutrition consultation for the Afghan military hospital. This hospital had received bad press coverage back in the U.S. for malnutrition and inadequate feeding practices with their patients. Our taxpayer dollars were used to fund this hospital along with almost everything else in Afghanistan.
By this time, the difference in cultures had hit me like a wall of freezing air. Not only did I feel like I had the plague of being American but also a woman in a position of power with more knowledge on proper nutrition than all of their hospital personnel put together. There was a constant threat of danger. From having to be escorted by Force Protection infantrymen every time we left the compound to visit the hospital to waking up at 0500 in an outdoor tent by the loud voices of morning prayer by the villagers outside the wire. My initial thought was "what on earth am I doing here?" which was quickly followed by "I am here for a reason and I am traveling with the Armor of God." If anyone is going to harm me, they are going to have to get through Him first.
It turned out we had an amazing trip which opened my eyes even wider to the inequalities that exist in our world, many of which we as Americans are blind to or knowingly choose to overlook. I returned back to Bagram 5 days later (it was longer due to our transportation back being delayed by severe weather) feeling empowered and as if God had made the entire peculiar journey right by my side. Little did I know, it would be the first of many times in Afghanistan that I would feel this way.
"The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? the Lord is the strength of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?" - Psalms 27:1
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