Another Night in Afghanistan

My wall just shook again from the shock wave of something blowing up in the distance. The speakers throughout KAF told me in heavy English accent that there would be training fires tonight. That was 45 minutes ago. None the less, it doesn't really bother me anymore. I will say that it is nothing like what one would expect from watching the movies. There are no flashes on the horizon, at least none that I can see... I always expected the sky to light up in a brilliant white flash with every blast, but Hollywood has lead me astray yet again.

We are almost at the 2 month mark. 4 more, and it seems like such a distant goal. I think the hardest part about being here, especially now, is being away from friends and loved ones. I could deal with the conditions and the work schedule and the danger and unpleasantness of this place far easier if I had people around me I cared about. Don't get me wrong, I care about my fellow sailors and would do most anything to help them out and to make sure things are going well for them - but they are not friends. I am friendly with quite a few of my fellow officers, but we do not hang out, we do not talk about personal things, we do not share with each other on a level much deeper than acquaintances. Despite having people all around, working in an office with some 10 other guys, living in a room with 3 roommates - there's still a very strange sense of isolation. I have yet to let go of my life back in San Diego, and I'm curious if that's not part of the problem. I'm not truly living here, and I'm definitely not living back home, so there in lies the disconnect.

With the technologies around us, it is both a blessing and a curse. I can write this blog and communicate with people almost at will. I can email my family and call my friends and it is almost like I'm back home. But on the flip side, it is a constant reminder of what cannot be. It reminds me of a time I toured the prison at Alcatraz. On the audio tour, one of the former inmates recalled being imprisoned there, watching San Francisco in the distance, listening to the sounds of people going about their lives and enjoying their freedom. It was a reminder of what was left behind, what was so close and yet impossible to achieve. To the same extent, the updates on Facebook, the emails and phone calls - they all remind me of a life that is on hold for me and still moving for everyone else.

It is not my intent to whine or complain - those who know me even slightly will know that is not my nature. I only intend to catalog those experiences and emotions that I encounter along my journey. I know it is temporary, I know things will get better, and I know that in a few months it will seem like none of this really matters... but promises of better times are a seemingly small consilation.