Stay...Just a Little Bit Longer

There is a constant rotation of people in and out of here. Before Christmas, an entire battalion of Reservists returned home; in the next few days the replacement unit will arrive. Whereas a majority of the people in the departing unit left in time to make it home for the holidays, a handful are so stayed behind to ensure a smooth transition to the new unit. Those folks left just after the first of the year. Since I am part of the headquarters element, and a majority of those who stayed were leadership personnel, these were the folks I’d worked with most closely.

These personnel were all Weekend Warriors; pure Reservists who were patriotic enough to not only promise to come when called – – they actually showed up when they were called while placing their real careers on hold and leaving families behind.  Those families by the way were not necessarily on or near a military base where they can get broad support but scattered across vast regions and left to fend for themselves.  Among those who departed were a regional manager for an international drug company, several postal workers, an insurance adjuster,  a housewife, and a couple of college students. That is who they are in the real world, but for the last nine months they were military professionals  -- officers and NCOs doing what was needed, where it was needed and at great personal sacrifice. I am proud to know our nation has such people in its total force ranks who are not afraid to answer the call and are willing to put it all on the line.  I am also proud to call many of them friends.

As for me, I was scheduled to leave in early March. If you read that sentence closely you will notice that I said “was”.  My unit wanted me to stay for another one-year tour, but that is more Kuwait than I was willing to deal with. With several rather large projects on the fire, I did offer to stay for 90 days if they wanted me to so I could finish them.   They quickly jumped on that and accomplished the paperwork on the same day before I changed my mind.  It is nice to be wanted.  As of today I have a little under 120 days left before I returned to the US at the end of May. By the time I get back, Michigan should've completed its winter,  some Grandkids will be needing some time with Grandpa, and there is a Valkyrie sitting in my garage aching to go out and explore some new twisty roads.

But for now,  I will stay -- the Zodiacs won't mind.

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Around The 'hood

Several places are under construction

The day after I got back from my holiday leave, I was immediately thrown into moving mode and packed out of my old place to move into a new one. The new place is just down the road from the old one, but there is a massive difference in both the neighborhood’s style and the people who live there. My new neighborhood is primarily ex-patriots and some Kuwaitis, whereas my old neighborhood was the most entirely Indian unskilled working-class expatriates.  The new neighborhood is also much newer and as a result is cleaner and better kept.

One thing I like about the new place, is that I can walk Falkor around the neighborhood without having to walk in the street – – there are sidewalks.  The neighborhood itself is also interesting in that each villa seems to have its own personality. I think that most of them are like the one I am living in where it is basically an apartment building for three or four tenants that is designed to look like a house for a single family. I couldn't imagine having a family big enough to need all three or four stories of these buildings, but I suppose it is possible.  The houses are spaced very close,  usually a meter on one side,  and two meters on the other.

So for today's entry, I will take you on a walk around the neighborhood and show you some of the houses that I like or found interesting.

Italian style

Saw a place in Venice that looked exactly like this

This is an Indian Preschool

Biggest place in the neighborhood,  nice wrought iron.

California style

A homage to Frank Lloyd Wright?  Notice the spiral staircase

  

Love the entry way and big second floor window

Saw one similar in Miami

A lot like the newer houses in England

Like the colors

Modern looking but nice

This is my favorite house in the neighborhood.  It reminds me of the Porta Negro in Trier, Germany

Porta Negro Trier, Germany

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Boy Scout Skills In Everyday Life

In Kuwait, a lot of the workforce comes from other locations. Those of us that are here from Western countries are referred to as expatriates. Those who come from Eastern countries, like India, Sri Lanka, or Pakistan are called Third Country Nationals or TCNs. TCNs do a majority of the construction and other manual and semiskilled labor in the country. That does not mean that the TCNs are uneducated or don’t possess higher level skills; but those are the only types of jobs available here for that particular population.

A lot of the TCNs are here under contract for a specific period of time, many are working without any days off during the entire contract and are sending a lot of the money they make home. At my old apartment, I was talking to one of the security guards who had worked 12 hours a day for the past two years without a day off.  He had another year remaining on his employment contract before going home. He was saving up money to get married when he went back to India.  These are the conditions that the employees agreed to when they come here, and in many ways it is the best opportunity that they will get. I am sure that they should be treated better, but I don't think the situation is necessarily evil.

What amazes me about the TCNs I have observed in my time here is the fact that most are very frugal and inventive. If you ask a TCN to do something for you, they will figure out a way to do it. The picture above is of a building under construction here.   I passed by the building every day for weeks and until the day I got stopped at a traffic light I never noticed that the scaffolding outside the building was made out of 2 x 4s rather than metal. It is hardly inventive that they were using the materials they had available, but if you look more closely at the picture you will notice that that 2 x 4 scaffolding is lashed together. I learned lashing in the Boy Scouts but the tallest thing we ever built was a shaky 25 foot signal tower that would support at most three Boy Scouts at a time. They are using lashing to put together scaffolding that is over eight stories tall that is being crawled all over every day by dozens of workmen.  Amazing.

Next to my old apartment, there was a gutted out and deserted 15 x 20' building.  Over the period of a few weeks I watched as one man, working by himself at night, dug a pit in the floor, laid a new concrete floor, and renovated the entire space turning it into a car repair garage. Once he was done and operational, I observed as his business grew every day.  Before I moved he had two assistants working with him and customers lined up around the street. It was interesting to watch this occur and you cannot help but admire a man who built his own future.

One of the folks I work with always said that he wanted to take a few TCNs home with him to do some household renovation and then he would start a business with them as employees for general household repair and contracting. His thought was that they were more dedicated and inventive that a lot of the construction people that you run into in the United States. He is right, to some degree, but a lot of the reason why the TCNs tend to be as productive as they are is that the only rule they obey is that you will do what the boss tells you to do. This means overcoming any obstacle and figuring out how to do the hard stuff. Of course, they are nonunion.

When I reflect on what is going on here, I am reminded of how immigrants became successful in the United States over the course of decades. They worked hard and did what was needed then reaped the benefits of their efforts. There are lessons about renewing that kind of innovation and ambition that could be learned by the current generation of my countrymen.

By the way, I got moved into my new place just fine and will talk about it next week. Falkor likes the house okay but misses all the stray cats that he used to get to bark at.

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It's Been a Quiet Week in Camp Arifjan, Kuwait - My Hometown - Out on the Edge of the Desert

"Five G-o-l-d-e-n Arches, Four Texting Birds, Three French Fries...." 

Last night, was the Brigade Christmas party. Of course, it was not called a Christmas party to be politically correct and totally secular it was called "Holiday Ball".  This means that everybody wished each other a Merry Christmas, all the decorations were Christmas, and everyone was sharing Christmas memories but because it was called a Holiday Ball,  neither MSNBC nor the ACLU showed up to protest.

Normally, I work in the headquarters building and don't spend a lot of time out at the marshaling yards or in the ports so there were a lot of people at the party who I seldom see or that I have not met at all. There is nothing wrong with that because there is enough esprit de corps that everyone was friendly; it just means a lot of the faces were new and different to me.

There was a nice spread of food, a DJ who was playing a good variety of music, and themed contests. I think everyone was having a good time but maybe it's because of my own age or experience in being in these types of situations that I found myself looking around at the faces of the young troops. It was very obvious to me who was spending their first Christmas away from home. They would spend a lot of time smiling and laughing but when they thought no one was looking their expressions would change and something in their eyes let you know that they were reflecting back on what was going on in their life last year, or maybe the year before. It is never easy being away from family; it is harder this time of year.

A lot of the troops I serve with are Army reservists, and even though they not only volunteered to go into the Army – – because there's no mobilization -- they also volunteered to deploy here. There are many worse places they could be but keep in mind there are a lot better places they could be as well. They are here by choice, and they are serving our nation willingly at a time when less than 5% of the total population of our country has ever put on a uniform.

So, as you go through your Christmas holiday I would ask that you keep these young troops in mind, maybe say a silent prayer for them, and remember to give them your thanks for being here. Whereas the politics of any particular situation is not always immediately visible, in the heart of every one of these men and women is the feeling that they are here to protect America.

This will be my last entry until the New Year. I am taking off for a short vacation and some much-needed family time. I wish you all a Merry Christmas and I can't wait to see what the New Year brings.

That's the news from Camp Arifjan, where all the Soldiers are strong, all the government Civilians are good-looking, and all the TCNs are above average."

Merry Christmas!

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It's 12:12 on 12/12/12

12 Hours, 12 Minutes, 12 Days, 12 Months, 12 Years... ah, ah, Ah!

From Omega Man to ???

When I moved here,  I had a choice in where I lived.  Because of the hours I was going to be working, I chose the place that was closest to work so that my commute would be shorter, even though the apartment was not in the best neighborhood.

The apartment reminded me of the one that Charleton Heston lived in The Omega Man.  The movie was set in a future post- apocalyptic world with Ray Ban wearing mutants running around in monk’s robes and stuff generally destroyed.  In the middle of the mess was this apartment where Heston lived that was very nice on the inside while maintaining a facade on the outside so that the mutants would not know he was there.  Eventually, they found out he was in there and…  well I don’t want to spoil the ending to a 1971 film.  Anyway,  my apartment was like that,  nice on the inside,  slum on the outside but if you didn't know that,  you would not have looked twice – that made me feel safer.  Note:  I do not wear a smoking jacket or have Van Gogh’s on the wall – just a Salvador Dali.

Last week I found out that I was going to have to move because the apartment failed to meet health and safety standards due to the neighborhood.   Now, before I go further I will say that I generally like the people in my neighborhood and I feel safe; some of the people do wear Ray Bans but none wear monk’s robes.  It is filled with mostly Indian Expats who are friendly and generally very nice.  The children in the neighborhood have gone from being scared of Falkor, to running up to pet and greet him by name when we go for walks.  There is a nearby bodega for milk and other odds and ends as well as a Chinese restaurant and easy access to the beach.  Lots to like,  but I will admit it is dirty and due to the garbage issues probably not healthy.

Old Place Outside Views

Old Place Inside Views

The new place is in the same section of Kuwait City,  but about 10 blocks from the old place.   I won't move until after Christmas,  but they gave me the address so I could take a look at the neighborhood.  It is residential versus urban and most of the folks I saw walking around were Kuwaiti.  Only the first floor is mine,  there are other folks on the upper stories.

Speaking of Christmas,  we have the office door decorated now and during our last staff meeting the Commander added some background music of Christmas music.  It was the first I have heard this season.  Some of the stores here have up a few ornaments, but nothing like the US,  but that is to be expected.  I don't recall Macy's having much up for Eid.

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Sometimes You Get Waffles, Sometimes You Get Steak, Sometimes You Get Waffles & Steak – But If You're Cute You Get a Rib Bone

Kuwait can seem like the Atlanta Airport of the Middle East as a lot of folks transit through here on their way elsewhere.  In the past week, in fact, we had two major reality stars come through. Kim Kardashian and my second oldest son.  Kim was on her way to Bahrain to market milkshakes and was greeted by protestors, and my son was on his way to Afghanistan to help a nation stand up and defend itself, he will be greeted with open arms by the guy he went there to replace.  Both are realities, but in my mind there is only one star,  the other is a pariah.

Son flew in to catch a connector flight, so I drove out to Ali Al Salem to see him,  at the time we were not sure how much time we would have since his ongoing travel arrangements were not concrete.  In the end he spent two nights here, staying in my guest room instead of a 15 man tent at the base.  Since he had some free time and he arrived on my day off, we took in a few sights.

Before coming here last March, I had been in and out of Kuwait many times and even during the last nine months (yes, nine months), I have never been to their Hard Rock Café.  So we went and had lunch there.  The hamburgers,  were – as usual for Hard Rock – expensive but awesome.  The building has a gorgeous view of the Gulf too, well worth a stop if you are in town.

From there we went down to the Kuwaiti Towers,  the major landmark in the city.  There is a restaurant and observation deck in the Towers, but they are currently closed for renovation.    Note: I didn’t write about it when it happened,  but Kuwait celebrated the  50^th Anniversary of their Constitution a few weeks back and that included a $5 Million fireworks show that was held near the Towers.  I did not go to the show, I can only imagine how bad the traffic was, but it is now in the Guinness Book as the most expensive ever staged.

That evening we went back out to base,  and again my son did not make it on to a flight.  I had to go to work the next day,  so the Son watched TV,  did homework, and gave Falkor a bath – up until then Falkor enjoyed the idea of company –after the bath,  not so much.  I took off from work early and we went to one of my favorite restaurants,  Waffle and Steak.  We took Falkor along with us and sat at one of the outside tables,  since the weather was nice.  The manager was immediately taken with Falkor and brought him out a rib bone,  he then packed up another one for the dog to take home.  The manager even took Falkor  for a short walk while we ate.  Whereas many Arabs seem to have dog phobias,  the Filipinos and Indians working here seem to like dogs a lot;  I think it may be memories of owning dogs of their own at home.    Falkor is welcome inside a few local eateries and stores – which blows me away when you consider a few months ago he was considered a mongrel who was thrown out into the street.

Speaking of being thrown in the street,   I drove my son back out to the base and this time he made a flight out and I have email that he safely made it to the other side where is now sleeping in an unheated tent with no bedding waiting for the final leg of his journey to Leatherneck to begin.

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