Day 17: Driving course

Training the ANA isn't about control, it's about ensuring they have the ability to train themselves. In the end, the program hopes to develop a self-sufficient, professional army. (Photo by G. A. Volb)

The training is difficult as drivers are taken over the course, dry and rocky terrain of Afghanistan. (Photo by G. A. Volb)

It was an exhausting day, but not due to any one reason. It was more the combination of three-digit heat, being on the move over rough country all day and trying to adapt to the 6,000-foot altitude in which we operate.

Much of the morning was taken up by visiting the driving course for ANA regulars. The ride there comes with the gratuitous bumps and ruts in the road, large rocks and clouds of dirt from vehicles in front of you. Should "dirt" replace oil as the global fuel that runs nations, the quality of life here would sore overnight.

There's thousands of acres of dirt and rock used by the ANA for training out here -- you can literally see for miles (through the dirty haze in some cases). It is, I think, a perfect place to teach the ANA who are quite comfortable among the rocks and dirt of the landscape. Here they learn to drive armored vehicles which, in the wrong hands, can be quite dangerous on poor terrain.

The ANA seems eager enough to learn and advisers/mentors have assured me they're improving. It'll just take time which, out here looking over the vast emptiness, seems to be all we have.

In the afternoon we made a trip to the "mother camp" in Kabul proper. The ride always reminds me of driving in S. Korea, Turkey or Honduras -- there seems to be no traffic rules and the biggest car or truck typically gets its way. The number of fatalities on the roads here must be high, though that's just an educated guess.

It's nice to see the children walking home from school and small businesses open. There's a relatively "normal" economy taking shape here, but much more needs to be done to ensure stability so that their economy can flourish. If the coalition has the strength of will, Afghanistan can and will succeed as a democracy.

Day 16: Mondays are painful

Mondays in Afghanistan, so it seems, are as boring as those in states. This, even though my Mondays are really Tuesday by my work week since I have off half a day Thursday and all day Friday (the Muslim work week so I'm told).

In any case, there was little going on in my world this Monday. And when that's the case, eating and working out take on a new level of importance. In fact, I'm due to head to the gym in 15 minutes.

It is important to note, at least for me, that I now sleep through the night and wake refreshed. I find it odd how fabulous the weather is knowing the serious nature of the business here.

Day 15: Sheenza Wer

Abdullah Rauf, at left, requests help for his ailing eyes. Our "terp" suggests he gets glasses. Select this photo and check out the troops in the background providing security. (Photo by G. A. Volb)

The young girl, at left, takes care of her younger brother and then asks me for a cigarette. (Photo by G. A. Volb)

Afghanistan is full of irony; here an elderly gentleman sits outside a mud home with a new motorcycle parked nearby. Select this photo and check out the licence plate on the bike ... some things never change. (Photo by G. A. Volb)

It was a 40-minute or so trip east of "home base" toward Jalalabad. The village, Sheenza Wer, is home to some 400 folks. It's a newly built village the residents of which are in need of the customary medical care, wells and clothing among other things. My understanding is they were mostly Pakistani and moved into the area some two or three years ago.

It sits in a valley surrounded by small mountains and rolling hills; had it included some trees and/or snow, one could argue it looked a lot like Utah. But it didn't, and the rock and dirt and mud homes ensured everyone making the trip didn't confuse it for a resort stateside.

Afghanistan is full of irony: a mud home with a motorcycle propped up next to it; an outdoor kiln with a brand new Toyota pickup truck being loaded with bricks; dark, deep creviced faces under Arizona Diamondback baseball caps, and a donkey replacing a four-wheeler at the local store.

A four-year old asked me for a cigarette -- though probably not to smoke herself, but to sell. At least I'm hoping that was the case.

The mud homes are built within high walls of, yes, more mud. They're smooth walls and quite sturdy as the winters are harsh here. I'm impressed by what Afghans can do with mud. Each wall sits next to a large hole in the ground that was dug up to make the walls.

An old gentlemen stopped by to talk with our medic; our "terp," short for interpreter, said the old man complained he had a hard time seeing. When asked how old he was, the gentleman replied, "Ninety-five."

At which time our "terp" said, "You are very old, that's why you can't see as well as before. You should use glasses."

Which the old man responded with, "I'm not old enough for glasses."

There were a lot of back aches --- from lugging around rock and dirt; sore or broken ribs, headaches, sleep deprivation etc. They all seemed in relatively good spirits though, especially the children who, like anywhere in the world, were busy running around seeing what trouble they could get themselves into.

Looking out over the valley there was a healthy mix of U.S., British and Afghan troops securing the area. The big event for the day -- humanitarian "give-aways" including sandles, jeans, shirts, blankets and asorted other clothing. It was a good day.

Day 14: Stressless Saturday

So, my second Saturday came and went uneventfully. I'm realizing my life here revolves are three things: eating, working and hitting the gym. The latter to take care of the former -- as the diet, as I've said before, isn't conducive to keeping wait off you unless you watch it closely.

The is simply because the high calorie diet offered is to keep the mission fueled.

I'm find myself looking forward to work and focusing on that more than anything else. Simply put, there's not much in my control here other than those couple of outlets, so you do what you can to get by.

For whatever reason, I feel like I've been here for longer than two-plus weeks. Not in a bad way, it's just that time and days seem to melt into one another.