166 Days: My Journey Through The Darkness (12 page)

5 July 2008

Even though I turned twenty-eight on this day, it didn’t feel like a birthday. We hadn’t been able to receive mail in several weeks, so I had no cards or presents to open from my friends and family. It was just another day in Afghanistan, but people did try to make it seem special. Greg was so sweet and sent me an email video of him singing me “Happy Birthday”. I watched it over and over, watching his silly attempt to make me smile.

My mom, my sister Karri, and her kids threw me a birthday party and sent pictures over email. I tried to call them but was unable to get through. I did speak to Greg’s parents and little Griffen, my stepson. It was so hard to talk to Griff; as soon as he heard my voice his got very quiet and I could hear him holding back tears. He was so sad, which in turn made me even more upset to be away from my loved ones. I missed everyone so much.

As I sat in my room missing my family terribly, I heard a knock. “Hey guys, we have a little party with music, come on!” Manuel said. He was the communications sergeant on the team and was lighthearted and fun to be around. His jokes were horrible, but they always made us laugh and I could use a good laugh.

“Come on Jenn! It’s your birthday!” Becky pleaded.

“Your birthday? See! I knew we should have a party!” Manuel laughed. “Tell you what; I will put on my special ‘Danger’ cologne for the occasion.” Becky and I burst into laughter; he had taken the cologne from one of the enemy compounds they had raided in the last several days. He came back to the firebase yelling “
Danger!”
each time he sprayed it. Its name suited it well; it was probably the most horrible cologne I had ever smelled. It had become a running joke with him; he carried it with him everywhere, spraying it as often as he could.

“
Danger!
” Becky and I said in unison.

“Alright, let’s go,” I said and we went to the party. Manuel brought ponchos from home that he handed out to everyone and we took turns wearing his sombrero. We all sat around the table in our ponchos listening to music and laughing, and for a few short moments we disappeared in our fellowship and the sadness we had all been feeling faded away.

After the party was over, I went up to the roof of the OpCen for a few moments alone. As I watched the sun setting over the mountains, I wondered what my twenty-eighth year would bring. How could I live my life better than I had last year? What did I learn? What would I take with me from this experience to better myself? I’d grown up so much as a person in the last two years, let alone the last two months. I was grateful for the path God had chosen for me and the lessons I’d learned by the experiences I’d encountered. As I sat there alone in my thoughts, 7,000 miles away from everything and everyone I knew and loved, I was thankful for where I was and doing the things I was doing. I knew these six months of my life would undoubtedly be six months that would impact me for a lifetime. It had made my heart and soul open to so much more. I missed everyone back home so much it hurt, yet I knew I was exactly where I needed to be, and I couldn’t wait to see what the next year had in store.

10 July 2008

There was a supply drop scheduled just outside the gate of the firebase which required the team to go out in the vehicles, set up a security perimeter, collect the supplies, and bring them back to the firebase. On this particular drop Curtis, the team commander, decided while they were out he wanted to do a “Mini MedCap” in the village next to the Drop Zone.

It was a well-received idea by everyone involved. The team wanted to spread the word to the local people that Becky and I were there and we were eager to meet more of them, specifically the women and children. We also wanted to inform the women of the educational classes we were hoping to start.

Once the perimeter was secured, and we had all of our gear and weapons on, we headed out on the ATVs into the area just outside the “safety” of our firebase walls. As soon as we got to the Drop Zone we saw children running up as fast as they could to greet us. One little girl walked up to both Becky and me and grabbed our hands, rubbed our skin with a look of disbelief on her face, as if she were checking to see if we were really standing there in front of her.

Curtis watched her reaction to us and smiled saying, “Look! She is rubbing your hands because she can’t believe you are real!” I will never forget the smile on her face that extended from ear to ear when she realized two
American Women
were in fact very real and standing right in front of her!

“You see my sisters, this ‘American woman’ is a figure these girls only talked about, but have never seen in this area of the country,” said Hanifi, one of the Terps, explained.

“Wow…that’s incredible,” Becky said.

“You must realize, seeing you is something very special to these little girls, they never forget,” he explained. I was honored, I had been completely oblivious to the impact we had until that moment.

The other children swarmed around us shortly thereafter, eyes filled with wonderment and smiles of gratitude. We handed out cookies and candy for a few minutes and after the excitement wore down Curtis asked, “Are you ready to meet with the village elders?”

“Yeah, of course,” I replied “where do we go?”

“Our plan is to meet with them inside the compound…standby and let me see what’s going on,” He said as he went with a Terp into the compound to see if the men were ready.

“Can you believe this?” Becky asked as the children played with our sunglasses and helmets. One little girl walked around wearing my sunglasses on her head as she had seen me wearing them earlier. She was fascinated with me and wouldn’t leave my side. As I sat she played with my hair just like any little girl would back home.

“It’s amazing,” I answered. “I wish we could give them so much more than what we have with us.”

“Me too,” Becky agreed.

We handed the kids backpacks filled with school supplies, Band-Aids, lotion, and hygiene kits. We taught them how to brush their teeth and put lotion on their dry skin. As I taught them how to use the toothbrush I looked into their mouths, and was shocked to see what horrible condition their teeth were in. They did not have access to toothpaste and toothbrushes; such a simple thing in America. We gave out multi-vitamins and blew up exam gloves and drew on faces magically transforming them into fun balloons to play with. The little girls followed us everywhere we walked, holding our hands, and rubbing the lotion that we had just given to them on our hands. They even offered me a piece of the candy that just minutes before they had fought over with all their might. We were lost in the moment with them, hearing their laughter and seeing their smiles warmed my heart. I looked up and saw Curtis walking towards us.

“Becks,” I said using my nickname for Becky, “Here comes Curtis. It must be time for us to meet the village elders.”

“I’m excited to see the inside of the compound,” Becky said. I remembered the compound I had seen in my first MedCap. We stood and began to gather our things.

“Well, change of plans, we are going to meet with the elders right here,” Curtis said.

“Why? I thought we were going into the compound?” Becky asked.

“Well, apparently that’s not a possibility,” he answered.

I wondered if it had anything to do with the fact that we were women, but we would never know. Regardless, as we talked to the elders, they expressed sincere gratitude to us for taking care of their families and they were elated we were there. We exchanged our thanks for their support of the Coalition Forces.

“They would like to sit and drink chai with you,” Hanifi said. “This is a big honor.”

“Of course, we would love to,” I said and we sat together. They thanked us again and again for being there and suddenly the eldest elder stood up and began to speak.

“He wants to offer thanks with a feast,” Hanifi translated.

“Well, that is very generous of him, please thank him, but I believe we are going to be leaving soon,” I said as I looked at Curtis to confirm.

“Oh no Miss Jennifer, he give you a chicken,” he explained.

“Oh…um…wow…that’s…uh,” I stumbled over my words.

“This is probably one of his family’s most valuable possessions, giving it to you is a huge deal,” Curtis added.

“I am honored,” I replied, as I truly was. It was an incredible gesture. The elder returned with a very small white chicken, legs tied together with a string and handed it to me. I put my hand over my heart and nodded in thanks as I accepted the chicken. I pictured my husband standing there watching me and laughing as I held the chicken; he knew the
last
thing I would do is kill that bird and eat it; instead, it would become a pet or a camp mascot. I could just imagine if I were home and having to deal with Greg and my new pet chicken running around in the backyard. It made me smile.

It turned into a very awkward moment for me, because instead of accepting the gift and getting on the ATVs and leaving, I ended up standing there with the bird for about thirty minutes waiting for team to get ready to go. The team guys got a good laugh out of watching me stand there with my chicken, trying not to let it wiggle out of my hands or poop on my clothes. I must admit, it was a pretty funny sight, but I was deeply moved by the gesture, especially being a woman in a country with a culture that typically holds women in such a low regard.

It was soon time to say goodbye. We packed up our things and said our farewells. I hated to leave; the children had found so much joy in the little time that we spent with them. As I watched them stare at Becky and me with joy and amazement, I realized how such small gestures and the simplest things meant so much. I began to think of my own childhood and how poor I thought we were because we could never afford family vacations or fancy things like all of my friends. But as I watched these children play with our balloons, made out of exam gloves, I realized how blessed I really was. I always had toys and a warm home with shoes to cover my feet and clothes to keep me dry. I never truly
needed
for anything, and as I reminisced, I felt ashamed for constantly wanting more than I had.

As we rode off on the ATVs I waved one last time. Even though we were the ones who came bearing gifts, I felt I left with the most valuable gift of the day; a peek inside their world; which in turn, made me appreciate my own so much more.

14 July 2008

We began to notice a new trend in the patient load. Our days were becoming significantly busier and we were seeing many more women and children. When I first arrived, we were seeing one-to-two a morning, but we had now transitioned into spending the majority of our time with the women. It was nice to see the word of our presence was spreading in a positive light.

I saw one lady in particular with a burn on her arm who came with a friend I had seen the day before. As I was treating the lady’s burn, I watched her talk with her friend and shyly looking back at me giggling. I knew they were talking about me and smiled. Soon I figured out what they were talking about. Her friend pointed to my face and to the patient’s face where she had several freckles. I too had many freckles in the same place on my face. She then pointed to her friend’s nose ring and pointed to my ears to show that we also both had piercings. What a neat moment in time I had shared with these ladies. Despite all of the differences in our cultures and individual lives and hardships, we still had similarities. We all three had a tender laugh together as I finished treating her burn. I wondered to myself how she could have gotten such a burn. Unfortunately the most likely source was her “loving” husband. What a different world. As the ladies got up to leave they both hugged me and kissed my cheeks expressing sincere thanks. They covered their hearts with their hands and said “Tashikor” which was “Thank you” in Dari. As I watched them leave, I told myself it was moments like this one that I would treasure for the rest of my life.

Before clinic I had heard news of a suicide bombing at a bazaar the day before that killed over thirty locals. As I inquired more about where this occurred, I discovered it was in the exact location I had performed the first MedCap. I actually received an email from Chad (the medic from the first MedCap) about the incident. He told me that they took care of many of the victims, some of whom did not survive.

My stomach turned. Instant flashbacks of the angry faces of the men in black walking behind our vehicles in the convoy surfaced in my head. It was sobering to think that the area of the attack was not far at all from where our firebase was located. I would never be able to fathom the extent of violence in this country. The children never had a childhood and the women lived in constant fear while the men knew nothing else but a life of fighting…whether it was defending their families and farms from the Taliban, or from us.

I tried to put these thoughts out of my head and continue with clinic patients. After about an hour the team sergeant came down and said, “Time to close up shop here guys, we are going out on a mission.”

“Alright, we just need to get the last few patients out,” I answered. I finished handing the medications I prescribed to my last patient, and as I walked her out I looked up and watched our “trusted” gate guards let three people walk into the clinic without searching them. As I stated before, the clinic was right on the edge of the firebase and the only thing separating us from
them
was some C-wire and these guards who were instructed to search every patient and scan them with a metal detector wand. The women were often in burkas, which covered them from head-to-toe, the only opening was a mesh-type area over the eyes for them to see out of. We had been informed the Taliban had used this to their advantage and developed a tactic of wearing burkas with a bomb strapped to their chests knowing no one would touch them. Additionally, the Taliban were also known to have bombs folded up in their turbans or in their robes.

We all looked in shock as we watched the people walk through the gate and up to the clinic. How many times had this happened that we didn’t know of? Talk about a false sense of security!

“Are you kidding me?!” Becky yelled.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of this,” Kyle said and headed over to the guards. We watched him as he firmly reminded the men about the threat and importance of their jobs in defending the clinic and the firebase. They appeared to listen intently, scrambling to find the metal detectors they weren’t using.

“I can’t believe this! We’re trusting these incompetent guards with our safety. I don’t even want to think about how many people we have seen that could’ve easily come into the clinic with weapons or suicide bombs,” I said.

“My God, I know-seeing this the day after that bombing makes me feel sick to my stomach,” Becky added.

“Me too,” I said. I could feel an intense nausea consuming me, it became more than I could handle. Ben, the team guy responsible for the guards, had made his way down to the clinic and saw how upset we were.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Ben, these guards aren’t checking the people that come through for anything! They are just letting them walk right up to the clinic. We are a huge target, which already makes us feel uneasy. And now we just witnessed firsthand their complete disregard for security the day after a significant bombing in the same province.”

“Oh hell no! I’ll be right back,” Ben said as he ran down to the guard post and got in the face of the head guard and echoed the same message Kyle had just delivered. The men quickly nodded their heads in understanding as Ben continued to light them up. After several more minutes the guys returned to the clinic.

“That won’t happen again,” Ben reassured.

“I hope not, thank you,” I said uneasily, hoping it made a difference.

“Are you guys ok to close up? We have to get back up to the OpCen to load up for the mission,” asked Ben.

“Yeah, we’ll be fine. See you up there,” I answered and they left. Becky and I sat alone in silence in our clinic. “All we can do is be more vigilant about monitoring what’s coming through the gate.”

“I pray that’s enough,” Becky said. I did too…

After we closed the clinic, we came back up to the OpCen and helped the team prepare and depart for their mission. As I assisted the guys with gear and water, I realized the longer I was there, the more I understood what was going on in the different locations and tribes; the area we were in had an unbelievable Taliban influence. My mind returned to the clinic and what a vulnerable target we were.

The mission kept the team out late into the evening. When they returned we all sat and had the After Action briefing and were then dismissed to retire to bed. After the meeting, I found myself sitting outside under a full moon and sky full of stars talking with Curtis about what they had accomplished during their mission and since their arrival in the area. He talked specifically about one family he had encountered.

“I could tell as soon as I began talking to them, it was evident they had been deeply brainwashed by the propaganda of the Taliban. The more I talked with the father, and showed respect, the more the man opened up. By the end of the conversation, he was showing us both support and appreciation.”

“Wow, that’s incredible.”

“Yeah, it was. He told me he’d never seen Americans before, and he touched my face and hands….then he said everything that he had been told about us was wrong.”

“How interesting that one conversation, one encounter, could change so much,” I said. Curtis went on to tell me the progress of the Coalition Forces had made in establishing a local government despite tribal differences. He explained that the mere idea of these people working together was completely out of reach just a few years earlier, and now it was happening right before our eyes. What an amazing thing to witness. Maybe, just maybe, we had many more similarities than just freckles and piercings.

Medevac for Manuel

Hal calling OpCen over radio

Village elder giving Jenn a chicken

Little girl touching Jenn’s hand because she didn’t believe she was real

Jenn & Becky at clinic next to a picture a child sent to them from the US

Little girl wearing Jenn’s helmet

Rod & Jacko at the firebase