Darchelle's Vacation with Uncle Sam

This last week was the best week I’ve had since I left home on June 4^th.  I had the opportunity to travel to one of the other camps in Afghanistan to perform an assessment.  The host nation for the camp happens to be the Italians.  After this last week I feel in love with Italians, and truly embrace the phrase “When in Rome, do as the Roman’s Do”.  While there you still know you are in Afghanistan, but somehow they found a way to make you feel like you’re in Italy.  We did a lot of work and accomplished the mission, yet despite the long hours I still wanted to stay.   The Italians showed us true hospitality from the moment we touched down and continue to extend this hospitality even after we are gone.  Our sponsor was an Italian, Gianluca, and I certainly made an Italian friend!

The Italians are just happy.  They smiled and spent time to really get to know each other.  There was true comradery among their ranks and they continuously extended the same comradery to us.  Multiply times a day we had to take an espresso break.  Of course it was an Italian espresso break, not an American coffee break.  Italians don’t drink brown water!  Three or four times a day we would meet in one of the many cafes and have an Italian espresso.  I really enjoyed these breaks.  The Italians take 15 minutes every few hours to take a break, talk, get to know each other, do a little business and just laugh.  Because of this they are just happy.  They get the work done, but with a smile and a caffeine high.  I explained to Gianluca how in Kabul we walk around a little down cast and we just lake the joy I saw at the Italian camp.  He was shocked we would or even could operate like that.  They just could not understand why we choose to be miserable.

The air quality there is much better than here in Kabul.  I was able to run outside which was amazing.  I have not run outside since we were in North Carolina over 2 months ago.  I have no problem doing all my training on a treadmill, but it was really nice to get outside and enjoy a run in the mountains!

The food was amazing.  They have an Italian dining facility and the food was delicious.  There was ceviche, delicious pasta sauce, and pasta of course.  There were grilled tomatoes for breakfast and aged parmesan.  The best part for the first time in months my stomach was not upset.  I actually digested my food.  I really enjoyed every meal.

There were other really great parts.  I had my own room and that was divine.  I can’t complain about my roommate here in Kabul.  Her and I get along, but it was nice to have my own space.  I mean to be able to fart whenever you want is a welcomed changed!  The part I did find strange was we had to purchase our own toilet paper. Although I would buy my own toilet paper in exchange for my own room.

We were treated like VIPs the entire trip, it made me forget where I was for a few days.  We even flew VIP flights to and from.  I enjoyed the time away even though we worked late and accomplish a lot.  It was nice to get away.  I traveled with two really great officers, one Air Force and one Navy.  I hope if for nothing else I can bring a little Rome back with me to Kabul.  They get their work done, but they are just happy.  I am choosing to be happy, no misery here  I want to change the saying a little and recommend when in Rome do like the Italians in Afghanistan!

View from my VIP flight and selfie of me inside!

This week I’m going to take you on a musical journey that started when I was 16 in the year 1900 and 98. Let me set the stage. CD’s were still the preferred way to listen to music.  I drove around in a Buick Century with a tape deck, and I had a large collection of homemade mixed tapes. I was in love with who I thought was going to be my forever boyfriend, which I was certainly wrong about. Within a year he broke my heart, but in an effort to make me feel better he let me borrow his sister’s CD Rock Spectacle by the Barenaked Ladies. I ended up falling in love again, but this time with a CD.  Prior to every cross-country meet I would listen to that CD in its entirety.  There was something about the album as a whole that relaxed yet motivated me for each race. At the time my favorite song on that album was “Break Your Heart.”

About a year after the breakup and my new-found love of the Barenaked Ladies, my brave father took 6 high school seniors to a Barenaked Ladies concert in Milwaukee on a Tuesday night in December.  Prior to the concert I thought I was a Barenaked Ladies fan, but afterwards I became a super fan.  We had floor seats at the Bradley Center with just enough space to dance and sing as high school girls should (I might still do the same at concerts today.  I am still a high school girl at any and all concerts).  My dad has been playing Santa for decades now and it was December and he was in full white beard. During “The Million Dollar” song they put my dad on the jumbo-tron, which made the experience even more memorable.

Throughout my college years, “Call and Answer” became my new favorite song.  I went to college at Purdue and I moved away from home and my friends.  I needed to know there were always people to Call on who would Answer, and there always were.  One college summer Katie Bleier and I made it to another Barenaked Ladies concert at Summer Fest. At this point they were the opening for, I believe, Alanis Morissette. Katie correct me if I’m wrong.  We didn’t even stay for all of her concert, we just wanted to hear our Barenaked Ladies and leave.

The years passed. I graduated from college.  I lost my Rock Spectacle CD in one of the many moved between college and the Navy, but in 2009 I decided I needed it again. Yes, I bought a CD when everyone was downloading music. Trust me my daily listening was streamed through iHeartRadio, but there was something special about owning that CD again.  As you read this, that very CD is in the Honda Pilot at home TJ is driving with three lovely babies in the backseat.  There is just something about that album that has always calmed me and gotten me through. I listened to that album driving to the hospital hoping my cousin was still alive and I still use it before all my big races.

On May 16^th, my last day of work at Life Fitness before I left, Brittney Kieres, an amazing co-worker who I consider a good friend, agreed to go to a Barenaked Ladies concert with me.  As I stated, I still like to act like a high school girl at concerts only now I can partake in adult beverages while I’m there. This time they were not opening for anyone, but they were performing at a small venue.  Like back in high school my dad came along and I wanted to share the joy of the Barenaked Ladies so I brought Timyra to her first concert. TJ refused to go, he thinks I can get embarrassing.  Ask him about when we went to the Bryan “Darchelle” Adams concert.

To prep for the concert I bought the most recent Barenaked Ladies CD’s. Yes, again in the age of music streaming I bought CD’s. Timyra and I would listen to them in the car to and from school.  I wanted to make sure we were ready to dance and sing all night.  One of the songs stuck with me, “Odds Are.” This song is my new Barenaked Ladies Anthem. I’m listening as I write this.

So my 16-year-old self would say: “What’d you think that I was gonna do, Curl up and die just because of you? I’m not that weak, you know What’d you think that I was gonna do, Try to make you love me as much as I love you? How could you be so low? You arrogant man, What do you think that I am? My heart will be fine just stop wasting my time”

And my early 20 something self would say:  “I think it’s getting to the point Where I can be myself again I think it’s getting to the point where we have almost made amends.  I think it’s the getting to the point that is the hardest part.  And if you call, I will answer And if you fall, I’ll pick you up and if you court this disaster I’ll point you home I’ll point you home”

And my 30 something self would say:  “Hit by the A-train, crashed in an airplane.  Wouldn’t recommend either one.  Killed by a Great White, or a meteorite I guess there ain’t no way to go that’s fun.  But somewhere in the world someone is gonna fall in love by the end of this Song.  So get up, get up.  No it’s never gonna let up so you might as well sing along.  Odds are that we will probably be alright.  Odds are we’re gonna be alright, odds are we’re gonna be alright tonight.  Odds are that we will probably be alright.  Odds are we’re gonna be alright, odds are we’re gonna be alright for Another night”

Music is a powerful thing.  I believe we all have our anthems.  No matter what the day or how I feel there is always a song to get me back up, motivate me, and just keep me going. The entire time I wrote this I listened to all these songs and albums and it just made me happy. This week was hard and every day was a struggle to not count the many, many days I have left here, but these songs made the difference. What is your anthem? How do you tell your story through music?  Remember no matter your mood, there is a song out there to help. Call it music therapy.

Here in Afghanistan I work on a NATO base.  We work with representatives from the different NATO countries.  There are very few U.S. Navy personnel here at Resolute Support Head Quarters, Kabul, which makes us the minority.  To make the U.S. Navy personnel feel even more out-of-place, we are all Navy Reservists who for the most part are  performing jobs well outside of our traditional warfare areas.  I am trained as a Surface Warfare Officer, and as you know Afghanistan is a land lock country.  There is no need for a Surface Warfare Officer where there is no water.  What there is a need for is a warm bodied semi-competent officer to do the job.  I fit that criteria, so here I am.

There certainly is a cultural difference between the different services.  I sense the U.S. Army feels they are the superior service which I really just find annoying.  I am still a trained war fighter, just not a land warfighter.  I spent 7 years on active duty.  I deployed for 4 years continuously onboard 2 war fighting ships.  Yet, ask any Soldier here and they truly believe this is my first deployment.  They are correct this is my first deployment where I can video call my family every day or make a phone call at all, the mail gets here within 10 days (not 2 months), we don’t run out of fresh food after only 7 days, the treadmills don’t move while I’m running, and I sleep more than 4 hours at a time.

Once a month the group of Navy black sheep get together for a few hours.  While I was there I was asked if I wanted to be part of the JANR.  Being curious I asked, what is that?  Well JANR stands for Just A Navy Reservists, and that is what we are.  I need to just embrace who I am here.  We, the JANR, are not going to change the pride of the U.S. Soldier, so we just need to embrace it.  Plus I’m sure the Soldier’s pride helps them perform their duties as Soldiers.  I am a JANR.  When I leave here I go home to my family and my civilian job.  I’m not competing against anyone else here for the next promotion or billet (job).  The next promotion board will look at my fitness report (equivalent to a year-end evaluation) and say check she deployed and did something.  I have no pressure other than to come home in one piece and do my job.  I will do the best I know how here.  People’s lives depend on it even though I am a JANR!

I’m not here to say one service is better than another.  We all have our duties to perform and our part in this fight.  You can’t forget the people at home either.  My mom is a JAMAG, Just a Military Mom and Grandma, but without her sacrifice we couldn’t fight this war over here. TJ doesn’t want to raise our babies for a year by himself, but he’s an awesome JAMSAD, Just a Military Spouse and Dad.  It is very military to make an acronym out of everything.  We all are embracing who we are and that’s the best part.  I’ll continue to own being a JANR!

So, I miss my job at home.  I miss knowing what I’m doing.  I miss knowing who to talk to when I have a question.  I miss teaching class.  I miss my cross functional team.  Most of all I just miss my friends there!   When I’m there I have nothing to prove, I can just do what I’m good at and I find a lot of job satisfaction.  They know I’m not a JANR!

This video makes me so happy.  Ending the workout with a 3 minute wall sit….that’s how you do it when I’m teaching.  I really am so touched and inspired by all of you.  Two years ago we started this small group and it’s grown and changed, but one thing has stayed the same.  The athletes who show up each week inspire me to be better and stay strong.  I want to quote a note I received from Christina Moritz who is helping keep this group going.  “I talk about you every class where I’ll say in honor of Darchelle or right when we are in the thick of it and I can see the class starting to get tired or near failure I say, “Darchelle isn’t giving up, neither are we!”  I realize that can be quite different but what I love seeing is them dig a little deeper and push through just as I’d imagine you have to (but of course on a far different level). So… keep going lady!”  It’s notes like that and videos of wall sits that help me get through and give me something awesome to come home to.  Know all of you are JUST something and I can’t wait to be back with JUST all of you, because you are all JUST AWESOME!!!  Ok, I need to stop I’m getting emotional.

As you all know, my 9MM and I are not good friends. I attribute this to two things. One, I just don’t like being in a place where the Force Protection measures require me to carry a loaded weapon.  The second reason is the holster I have wraps around my waist and then around my leg. This of course is what the Navy issued me. The Navy also issued me so much gear, of which the majority I will never use. However they issued me a go to war holster that is awful. I wish they kept the extreme cold weather gear in exchange for a comfortable holster.

Since I can’t change where I am and the requirement to wear my weapon, I needed to figure out how to get a more comfortable holster. Well, this proved to be a monumental task here on this small base in Afghanistan. First of all I am left-handed and I shoot left handed. From what I am learning this is the wrong hand in so many ways. I did mention earlier being reprimanded in Qatar for using my left hand and I am continuing to be at a disadvantage.  The left hand seems to be the wrong hand everywhere in this part of the World. For over two weeks we went to our small bizarre on base in search of a left handed hip holster. Every day we would walk over and talk to the local Afghans and every day they would say, “No, no left handed holster today. Return tomorrow I will have. I just have to get from my friend.” While waiting for someone’s friend to find a black market holster I started checking on Amazon. Amazon ships everything to Afghanistan, well except left handed holsters. I was getting desperate. The Lieutenant Colonel who I work for and I walked, as we did everyday, over to the bizarre. As usual someone’s cousin could not find my holster, but there was another promise of something in a few days.  The Lieutenant Colonel states and when we come back it needs to be a medium fake holster, not a super fake holster.  The owner of the stand says, “I never tell you anything in here is real.  Everything I sell fake.  Some fake better than other fake.”

The truth is that young Afghan selling us fake Under Armor, Nike, and Black Hawk (the holster brand) is correct.  All of us here are just faking it, and I don’t mean fake like we are not acting authentic.  I mean fake as in we get up everyday and we say we’re good.  We say we’re happy.  We even say we don’t worry about home.  The truth is that is not true, it’s just fake.  It’s better fake, and its necessary fake, but it’s still fake.  There is not one of us, if given the choice to go see our families wouldn’t jump on the first helicopter out of here.  Now some certainly would say they would never leave, but they’re just using better fake.  The real them would rather be home.  I’m fake here for sure, but not inauthentic.  I am still true to myself, but I’m jaded and will stay that way until I can be home with my family.   I’m jaded to what is really going on outside these walls and I’m happy to do my job.  People die everyday for no reason, just because of where they were born and that just sucks.  I can only hope that I can do something, even if it’s small to help one less innocent Afghan die and maybe someday they can walk down their streets free just like we do in the United States everyday.

I’m sure you’re still curious on how my holster drama ends.  As we’re leaving the shop discouraged for the sixth time the Lieutenant Colonel realizes we could just buy the belt piece for the hip and remove my connector piece and problem solved.  So after weeks of turmoil we found something that works for only $5.  I will have to reassemble what the Navy gave me when I return, but I’ll take care of that in a year.

After almost 2 months of wearing my 9mm, I am ready to give it a name.  I decided on Pat.  Pat is a name that represents neutral.  It’s neither male nor female, good nor bad, happy nor sad, it just is.  That is how I feel about Pat, it just is.  I take Pat everywhere I go and if needed Pat will be there and I will appreciate my side kick Pat.

As for everyone at home, Timyra had a much better week.  Taylyn was excited to go to school.  Buddy enjoyed camp and despite a morning of sadness he’s happy.  Last weekend they went camping with my mom’s family and enjoyed camping just like I did with my parents as a child.  All my aunts, uncles, and cousins were there to give them hugs and make amazing memories with them.  Thank you everyone for giving them extra hugs for me!

Yesterday I wrote most of my post for this week, but after talking to Timyra last night I changed my mind. Timyra has been really strong, at least on the outside. The only time she’s shown any distress was on the way to the airport when they dropped me off on June 4th.  She cried all the way there and all the way back. Since then she’s been nothing but helpful. She is sleeping with Taylyn and making sure everyone else is ok.

I call most days, and on the call I found out the evening before Timyra was acting out and would not go to bed. When I had the chance to talk to her she took the phone and hid underneath a chair to talk to me.  She never takes the phone to talk in private.  I asked her about the night before and she said, “Mom it’s just not fair that her mommy has to leave and her friend’s mommys don’t have to leave.” I was heart-broken. I really wanted to reach through the phone and give her a hug, and of course I couldn’t.
I held back the tears the best I could and told her to ask her Grandfather about what fair means. I remember when I was a teenager I was whining about something my sister received that I didn’t and stating that wasn’t fair. My dad promptly stated fair does not mean equal. Fair is getting what you need when you need it, not having the same as the person next to you. Yet, Timyra is correct too, it’s not fair. I want to be home and it sucks. Although right now I need to be in Afghanistan and my babies are safe, healthy, and happy. Our family is not equal to her friend’s family, but it’s still fair. We all have everything we need and I’m needed here and we still have each other!

It is sad but my babies are learning to stick together and take care of each other.  Plus this is a special year with their grandparents!

On another  note, a quick update on the recycling effort. I am filling a box at my desk and I am spreading awareness. All day there are people stopping by to put their caps in box so I can take them to support the wheelchair funds. It’s small, but it’s something.