Day 121: Flying High

Since leaving home in May I have done many things--ranging from boring to uncomfortable to every once in a while interesting. However, today I did something that I couldn’t classify as anything less than fun. I mean really fun...like I’m a six year old and my mom and dad just took me to Disneyland kind of fun.

This morning a few of us jumped into a helicopter and headed down to a police recruit in-processing event. The Italians gave us a ride and it was the best chopper ride I have ever had--although I must admit it is the only one I have ever had. We weaved in and out through the mountains, guns mounted and doors open, while villages passed below us. It was neat to see the country from 100 yards up. I was surprised at how many villages were hidden in small canyons and how many sheep and goats were out grazing. It was a different perspective then I would have ever gotten from sitting in a Humvee.

I think the pictures show things best...enjoy.

Day 120: Waiting

For those of you who have been faithful “452 days” readers, you have noticed one recurring theme from the time I left home, throughout my training in Kansas and now that I am here in Afghanistan. The theme to which I refer is that of waiting. It is amazing to me how much time I spend waiting for something to happen. Most of the waiting is due to plans that are constantly changing. To exemplify this let me tell you about my past 24 hours as I have been preparing to go on a 2-3 day mission to a base just south of where I am now. For security purposes we will call the base “Timbucktoo”. Watch how many times the plans change.

Saturday:

4:30 PM: My phone rings. I am informed that we are leaving Timbucktoo Sunday at noon. Prior to this I had expected to leave on Tuesday.
6:30 PM: My phone rings again. I am told that the other people coming into Herat to travel down with me aren’t going to arrive until late Sunday. Consequently, we won’t leave until Monday.
8:00 PM: My phone rings...again. “LT Jones, it looks like you actually will be traveling tomorrow--be ready to leave at 5PM.”

Sunday:

6:00 AM: I wake up, busily pack and prepare for my evening departure. I then head to the office to get a few things done.
8:00 AM: My phone rings. I am told that everything looks good for us leaving this evening.
10:00 AM: A second phone call comes in. “Hey, the flight of the others coming into Herat just got canceled. They won’t be here until tomorrow.”
10:45 AM: Another call comes--are you surprised yet? I am informed that my colleagues coming from Kabul actually caught an earlier flight and that they will be here in 30 minutes. “You need to be ready to go pick them up from the airport in 10 minutes.”
10:50 AM: As I am scrambling to get my stuff together...the phone rings...again. “Actually, we are going to pick them up at the airport, bring them here for lunch, and then we will leave at 2PM”.
2:00 PM: I load my stuff on the truck at which point our convoy leader comes out and says, “We might have to put you all on a helicopter. We won’t know for 2 hours.” I return to my room and wait.
4:00 PM: I walk out to the trucks to see what is happening. “Looks like we may leave in an hour--driving not flying.” I decide just to wait there and see what happens--nothing.
5:00 PM: “Why doesn’t everyone go eat dinner.”
5:45 PM: I walk back out to the trucks. I see people taking the weapons off of them (this means we aren’t going). “We’ll probably go tomorrow.” Right, I’ll believe it when I see it.

So I spent the last 24 hours just waiting. I will probably spend the next 24 hours doing the same. Do I care? No, not really. All that really matters is that each time I see that sun setting, I know I am one day closer to coming home. So I will just keep patiently waiting until that day comes.

Day 118: Eavesdropping

When I was in High School we had only one phone in our house. Hard to believe I know, but my parents couldn’t be convinced to put in a jack for another and this was long before the day when everyone had a cell phone. Someday my kids will read this and be shocked...what no cell phone...how did you survive?...dad, how old are you? Well, what made things even more interesting was that the phone wasn’t even cordless...yes kids there are phones out there that have cords. The cord we had on the phone was about one foot long. You remember the coiled up, stretchy, always gets tangled up kind of cords. If you don’t remember, drop by my parents house sometime and you can see the old thing--it's still there.

Anyway, the phone worked fine, but the real problem was that with such a short cord you could never really escape from a curious mother or even worse, brothers who were always looking for any reason to tease you. Calling the guys to arrange to play ball or calling about a homework assignment was no big deal. However, every once in a while, I would call a GIRL to ask her out on a date or just to chat. Okay kids, I know you don’t believe that one either...but it happened once or twice...I think. I actually was pretty hot as a teenager, once the buck teeth disappeared. Anyway, add awkward teenager, already afraid to call a girl, with brothers eavesdropping around the corner, and it was a recipe for complete embarrassment.

I was reminded of those days this morning as I was getting ready to talk to Sue and the kids. As I was plugging in my laptop, I heard a guy talking on the phone across the room to his wife or girlfriend or somebody I assume was of the female gender. I heard..."your eyes are so beautiful...I love your hair...your legs are incredible...you are sooooooo sexy." It seemed to be getting a little inappropriate so I quit listening--scared of what he might say next. Now don’t get me wrong, I am a romantic guy (Sue, quit rolling your eyes) and love to whisper sweet nothings into my Susie’s ear. However, in a small room with 20 other guys listening--I guess I am a little too private or shy or sane for that.

Now everyone but Sue quit reading...really, I mean it...quit eavesdropping. Honey, you are so hot, so beautiful, so wonderful, so talented, I love you!

Day 117: Holy Ground

In the Bible, in the Book of Exodus, the Lord called Moses up to the mountain. He spoke with him and told him, “put off thy shoes from off thy feet, for the place whereon thou standest is holy ground.”

God has always had holy ground on which he visits and communicates with man. From the earliest days, He has commanded men to build temples as places of worship and a place where He can dwell. We have temples today--sacred buildings built to worship and glorify our loving Father in Heaven.


Moses was commanded to remove his shoes when he entered holy ground as a way to show respect and reverence to God. Similarly, temples of old and those of modern times, have been built so that their beauty will cause those that see them to think of and have reverence for God. Since arriving in Afghanistan, I have seen a lot of brown, dusty buildings. The exception to this are the mosques. Even if they are small, the mosques that I have seen have been colorful and relatively nice buildings. They consider their houses of worship “holy ground” and consequently dedicate their finest materials and resources to construct buildings that show their love and faith in God.

Below is a mosque near a police headquarters that I visited today. We met with the medic in charge of a small clinic there. This medic has no medications, no supplies, no exam table, no stethoscope...really nothing. Part of my job is to help get these clinics up and running, so their medical personnel can start working. It was a nice little trip.

Me and the medic (is that a quadruple chin I have?)

Shafiq (my interpreter) and me in a little garden near the mosque

The outside of the Police Headquarters

Day 116: Playing Tag

I remember before leaving for Afghanistan, people would ask what at the time I thought were silly questions. One of them was, “Are you taking your family with you?” “Take my family”, I thought. “Have you read the news lately? Maybe you’ve never heard of...the Taliban...IED’s...ambushes...Osama Bin Laden. Afghanistan is not the place to take your family.”

Well, I stand corrected. Tonight I saw a group of kids running back and forth from the dinning facility to the flagpole playing tag. Yes, some of the American contractors bring their families with them. Once or twice a week I see them with their wives and kids. I’ve seen pregnant ladies, little babies, toddlers, and elementary age school kids. They live out in Herat somewhere and come on base occasionally for mail, dinner, and a change of scenery.

Hard to see, but I promise that there are kids in here.

It is hard to describe how strange it is to see little American kids here on this base. To see little kids running and playing, oblivious to the war that surrounds them, makes me grateful for the innocence of children. They find joy and fun in the simple things that are around them. Seeing the kids makes me pretty homesick for my little guys. What I wouldn’t give to have just a few minutes with my kids--to give Abbie a big hug and kiss, watch Ellie dance around in the Afghan dust, hold Eden’s tiny little hand, or listen to Ammon make little monkey sounds.

I miss them. I love them. However, as much as I would like to have them near, I’m glad that they are home, in a safe place, with a mother that loves and protects them. Guys I’ll see you soon!

Day 115: Thin Mints

Since arriving in Herat, I have been pretty consistent about working out. My usual routine is to wake up around 5AM, call Sue and the kids, and then go run on the treadmill for a few miles. I usually follow this by a some sit-ups, a few minutes on the weight machine, and some stretching.


The exercise has been good. The diet, however, has been poor. For example, the other day I received a package from home in which my mom had sent a box (16 count) of rice crispy treats as well as some Werther’s candies. The box of rice crispy treats was gone within 24 hours. The candies were finished off by the next day. Add to that a bowl of ice cream and a cookie at dinner, and suddenly, all of that time in the gym was doing little to shrink that tire around my belly. If anything it was growing larger. Now don’t get me wrong, I think a little extra cushion around the mid section is alright. It happens to the best of us right? But right now, I don’t have a good excuse to let it keep growing. The gym is next to my room, I sleep well every night (no kids to wake me up), and I have plenty of time. The only real excuse I have for not tightening up the abs is a lack of effort and self control.

Anyway, I came to the conclusion that I needed to get control of my life. So I put together a spreadsheet to track my daily food intake, running distance, number of sit-ups, current weight, etc. There is an individual column labeled “treats”. My goal is to write “none” in this box as much as possible. Yesterday I was perfect. I ate well, I exercised, and had no treats. Today, I woke up, ran 3 miles, lifted some weights, and ate a healthy breakfast. At lunch I was feeling weak and almost broke down and grabbed some dessert. However, at the last minute, I used some self control and had an orange instead.

After lunch, on my way back to the office, a colleague asked me to help carry back some packages from the post office. The packages were filled with box after box of girl scout cookies. There were 3 cases of thin mints. Now Sue can attest that my ability to resist thin mints is limited at best. I remember well last year being asked a few times, “where are the rest of the thin mints?”. My responses ranged from, “uh....” (while looking dumb), to “where are those kids?”, to “what would you like me to make for dinner, sweetheart.”


It was the ultimate challenge...thin mints vs. self control. The battle raged within me for some time. Finally, I found the courage to walk away from the cookies and instead I grabbed some bottled water. Victory, I thought...well at least for now.

The experience has caused me to add another element to the side of my blog entitled “No Treat Tracker”. It lists how many days I have been strong and avoided treats. It is mostly for my own motivation but you might find it interesting to follow along and see how long I can make it before the battle of the thin mints is lost.

Day 114: My "Daddy Wall"

I wish I remembered what it was like to THINK like a kid. The things they say and write are funny at times, other times insightful, and occasionally inspirational. The “think before you speak” thing that most adults have engrained in them, has no domination over little kids. They simply say what comes into their curious little minds. There is no reason to over analyze things. If something is “true” or “right” you just say it. Sue has recently posted some funny "kid quotes" on her blog.

Since arriving here in Herat, I have received a few packages. In them, the kids have been sure to send me some notes and pictures. I decided that I needed a “daddy wall” where I could put up some of the things they send me. This is my substitute for putting things up on the refrigerator--since I have no fridge.

Below is my wall and some close ups of some of my favorites.

The "Daddy Wall"

I like the "mad guy"--why is he smiling?

This one is just sweet

This one motivated me to cut back on the treats and keep up with the running. Is my belly really that big?

It's all very simple to Abbie..."Why can't you just come home. I would do that." Oh I wish it really were that simple.

Day 113: Rise and Shout

One thing I have missed since leaving Utah to go to med school, is being able to regularly watch BYU and Jazz games. Occasionally something will make it to national TV, but normally I have to settle for checking out the score on the internet. Well imagine my surprise today, when I walked into the cafeteria and saw BYU football on TV. It is one thing to see a BYU game while living in D.C., California, or Nevada. However, to catch a game in Afghanistan...now that’s a miracle if you ask me. I sat down and watched as BYU destroyed UCLA during the second quarter. It reminded me of the glory days of old.


Next week I am going to head to the cafeteria to catch the game early. Although, BYU vs. Wyoming...yea, I don’t think even a miracle could bring that game to Afghan airwaves.

Day 112: Stitches

I’ve only had one accident severe enough to require stitches. I was on a date in high school and we were miniature golfing. All was going well, when suddenly a ball flew from the hole behind me and hit me in the forehead right above my eye. It shocked me more than it hurt. I thought everything was fine until I put my hand up to my forehead and felt something wet and then saw something red. The golf ball had opened me up and I was bleeding like crazy. I was taken to the ER, had stitches placed, and a week later they were taken out. You would never know it now. There is no scar and no permanent brain damage that I am aware of. Hurt during miniature golf...pretty impressive story, I know.

Anyway, today I went to downtown Herat for the first time. There is a regional police headquarters there and inside of it a small medical clinic. I met with the doctor and we made some arrangements for some supplies that he needed. As we were talking, a policeman came and asked to have some stitches taken out of his arm. Now taking simple sutures out is a pretty simple thing. However, whoever put them in tied some kind of crazy knot that didn’t come out very easily. The doctor in the clinic pulled and pried and finally got them out. By the time he was done, the wound had opened back up, but hey, at least the stitches were gone. I can only imagine the scar I would have had from that golf ball if I had been stitched up here in Afghanistan.


Here are a few pictures from the trip.

Me and the doc.

Heading into downtown.

Looks like something from the 70's. Afghans like lots of color. Maybe it makes up for the brown and sandy landscape.

A few trees!

Buses, bikes and donkeys.

A little western marketing.

Best looking fruit I've seen around. Check out those bananas.

Day 111: Chocolate or Caramel Syrup?

For those of you who are LDS, think of your most memorable sacrament meetings. Now I'm not talking about the most uplifting spiritual ones. Those are good, but I'm talking about the "really good" ones. For example, one time when I was a kid, a guy who was speaking dished out ice cream and gave it to the bishopric while they were sitting on the stand. "Chocolate syrup or caramel?", he asked. The bishop didn't know what to do, so he just stuck the bowl under his seat. He probably should have eaten it--it wasn't fast Sunday after all. I remember in the mission field many times when blatant false doctrine was taught from the podium and we had to discretely "distract" our investigators so they wouldn't hear what was being taught. And of course, what would sacrament meeting be without our beloved little ones. Kids always add to the excitement of the meeting. Especially now that I am a parent of four, sacrament meeting isn't complete if there isn't some screaming, crawling under the pews, and the occassional run away child.

Well today I was able to attend sacrament meeting for the first time since arriving in Afghanistan. About a month ago the Afghanistan military district of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints was formed and a district presidency and district council were called. Earlier this week, I met with a member of the district council who was in Herat on business as well as another LDS guy who we discovered here in Herat. We were given permission to start having an organized sacrament meeting. So today (remember Fridays are Sundays here) we had our first meeting. It was by far the smallest and quickest sacrament meeting I have ever been to. Even the smallest ones I ever attended as a missionary in Argentina were larger than this. We prayed, shared a message (I threw a little false doctrine in just for fun) and then took the sacrament. It was a neat experience to be able to kneel, in a very small and quiet setting, and bless and partake of the sacrament.

I think next week I am going to serve ice cream!