I arrived in the Sandbox a few days ago.
The culture shock here is incredible. Not that I've seen a thousand things so far, but the few details my jetlagged eyes have been subjected to suggest that, as a matter of fact, I am several thousand kilometers away from home.
On my way to Kandahar, listening to my playlist, I couldn't help but chuckle at a wonderful piece of irony. As the plane was making its way from the ground to last Sunday's rainy sky, Elton John's "Rocket Man" suddenly kicks in.
"What the hell does it have to do with anything?", I can hear from behind one's computer screen as they spend quality time reading this. Honestly, I asked myself that question too, while I couldn't help it but notice the dim yet existing similarities between a Mars-bound astronaut and a Kandahar-bound soldier.
If Montreal is the Earth, Kandahar certainly is Mars. The sand, the overwhelming heat, the distance, nothing here is like home. The first glimpse at my surroundings makes me think that I landed in the middle of the Old Testament. With barely running water.
So far, speculation tells me that working security on camp will be my main task, with a few prospects at going out on patrols. Kind of a reality check : being on the "Defense and Security" platoon means doing defense and security. Fortunately, my storytelling abilities will remain of service, as I am still able to collect stories from charitable souls who will feed me with tales from the Sandbox.
Updating the blog shouldn't be too hard here, yet the 30-minute limit will make it difficult to write real masterpieces.
We're still in the midst of organizing ourselves, so there is still very few to say other that I definitely landed on Mars, and I think that, while it will pass quite fast, it's gonna be a long, long time.
The culture shock here is incredible. Not that I've seen a thousand things so far, but the few details my jetlagged eyes have been subjected to suggest that, as a matter of fact, I am several thousand kilometers away from home.
On my way to Kandahar, listening to my playlist, I couldn't help but chuckle at a wonderful piece of irony. As the plane was making its way from the ground to last Sunday's rainy sky, Elton John's "Rocket Man" suddenly kicks in.
"What the hell does it have to do with anything?", I can hear from behind one's computer screen as they spend quality time reading this. Honestly, I asked myself that question too, while I couldn't help it but notice the dim yet existing similarities between a Mars-bound astronaut and a Kandahar-bound soldier.
If Montreal is the Earth, Kandahar certainly is Mars. The sand, the overwhelming heat, the distance, nothing here is like home. The first glimpse at my surroundings makes me think that I landed in the middle of the Old Testament. With barely running water.
So far, speculation tells me that working security on camp will be my main task, with a few prospects at going out on patrols. Kind of a reality check : being on the "Defense and Security" platoon means doing defense and security. Fortunately, my storytelling abilities will remain of service, as I am still able to collect stories from charitable souls who will feed me with tales from the Sandbox.
Updating the blog shouldn't be too hard here, yet the 30-minute limit will make it difficult to write real masterpieces.
We're still in the midst of organizing ourselves, so there is still very few to say other that I definitely landed on Mars, and I think that, while it will pass quite fast, it's gonna be a long, long time.
1 commentaire:
Martin, you're awsome! Please be careful and don't forget... there is no place like home. Miss U xx
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