She's leaving home

These are all out of order...and I could make a million excuses, or I could just tell you that I live in Afghanistan now and things here move, well, slowly. Very slowly. It took until today for me to get internet in my room (and we won't discuss how much that costs per month). I still don't have a government email account here. I've been here nearly a week.

And because of my lack of connectivity, I haven't been able to tell the story of leaving Louisiana to head to the far corners of the Earth...and it's surely a story worth telling. So we'll start here with a picture of me with my parents...and with my "Dad," all of whom came to BWI a little over a week ago to see me off. It was a bit harrowing, to be honest. It was really easy to be in training to go to combat, but it was an entirely different thing to say goodbye, to go through security, and to board the first of a series of airplanes that would actually deliver me into the combat zone. I was just brave enough to make it through, and five of my closest (incredible) guys from training met me on the other side of security with a huge group hug. And that was the first sign that everything would be just fine.

We made it onto the airplane, I slept for the entire almost 8 hour flight, and we landed at Ramstein. When the powers that be said that we could have a 10 minute smoke break I dutifully pretended to be a smoker (just this once), so that I could go kiss my husband. To the left is evidence of two things...number one, I need a hat that fits my head, and number two, Rob and I were together for literally 10 minutes. I didn't get evidence of the kiss...that was private! Actually, it wasn't. And that was actually a great prelude to what was to come...because on a deployment, there is no such thing as private. So my 10 minutes with Rob (and introducing him to some of my favorite guys) were entirely in public. Military intimacy. Thrilling.

From Germany we went through a few other countries (I slept the entire way) and we finally ended up in a Stan that wasn't Afghanistan. We stayed there (in the surreal world) for a few days waiting for another airplane to take us into the proper Stan. We could drink alcohol in the wrong Stan, so I had a glass of the world's worst wine. Why not?!

I was in really good spirits to get out of that place, as you can see to the left. The picture here was taken at about 8am, after we'd been awake since about, oh, 11pm the night before. And little did we know at that time, but our journey was just about to get harrowing.

We went from Wrong-a-stan into Afghanistan on a military airplane. That part was normal. The part that I will never forget is when the flight engineer came onto the speaker and announced "We have now entered the combat zone." That memory will always give me chills. I was still with my guys at that point, and I remember Juicebox looking at me right after that announcement. I'm sure he was checking to see what shade of crazy I turned. He might have been disappointed when I forgot to panic, but I guarantee he was not surprised. He knows me way to well after the past 10 weeks.

The 17 of us arrived in the wrong city in Afghanistan and I had to negotiate our way out of there, which was, well, an adventure. By the time we arrived there, we'd already been on the move for 12 hours. And this was the best part...we were all ready to get on an airplane and go to the correct city. But low and behold the very nice young Airman at the passenger terminal (airport) managed to book us all onto a flight, got our luggage all ready to go, and mysteriously forgot to schedule an airplane. Small detail.

So for the next 5 hours, I followed his sorry rear end around every single place he went until I think I finally annoyed him so much that he begged any crew to get us out of his hair. We boarded our last airplane for the sixth leg of the epic adventure that delivered us to the correct Afghan city after a 24 hour day, and journey that took us nearly five days. We spent that last leg on a military airplane as well, and as you can see here, by the end of that day we were all completely wiped out.

Come to think of it, that journey to here, the far corner of the Earth, should have been a good indication of what is to come. Life in Afghanistan moves at a pace that is frankly unlike anything I have ever experienced. Slow is an understatement. And since you know me, you know that slowing down is not really something that comes naturally for me...so here's to trying. And to a memorable six months of living in this incredible country where every challenge is starting to look like a great new opportunity...