Krygyztan

Before last night, I was only vaguely aware that this was a real country. Turns out it's real. And rainy.

 

The military seems to not like doing stuff in straight lines, so we'll be here for a bit before catching our final plane into Afghanistan. We're staying at a small US Air Force Base that used to be a small Soviet Air Force base a couple of decades back.  It's a lot like the FOB back in North Carolina -- tents, barbed wire, armed guards, gravel roads -- except that this place is not make believe. 

 

Also, the management here is well aware that the setting sucks, so they bend over backwards to keep morale up. Chow's great (including a panini station and a fro-yo sundae bar). The gym is ginormous, looks like one of those Bally's ads on TV, and pumps motivational, base-heavy gym jams 24 hours.  There are at least 4 24-hour free Internet cafes (the filter's a nanny-monster, though. Ex. The Onion is deemed "obscene.") There's also a bar. Really. Except only Air Force folks can drink. Seems there've been too many drunk soldier incidents.

 

The trip here was weird. Everybody was clearly flipping out, but we all handle it differently. Some guys (including me), had their cell-phones glued to their ears until the stewardesses pried them away. Some folks lost themselves in their gadgets and games until their batteries died. Some guys did the thousand-yard stare. Some guys sang. One guy, no joke, whipped out a harmonica.

 

Maybe there's a method to the madness. Maybe we need a psychological buffer zone between the shock of leaving home and the shock of going to war. As purgatories go, I guess Kyrgyzstan ain't too bad.