We are now entering the combat zone

Lesson #1 in Afghanistan...time to reset the expectations bar. Instead of disappointment, focus on opportunities. Absolutely perfect concept, isn't it? The reality is a lot more difficult.

I've been here in my new home for about 36 hours. I've already run on my first convoy. I've met my translator. I've met the Afghan Colonel who I will mentor for the next 7 or so months. And right now I am sitting in a courtyard on a FOB (think base) that isn't mine being incredibly thankful for an iPhone (which doubles as the world's smallest computer).

My dorm room for the next few months is a 12' x 10' aluminum hut that could also be described as a jail cell...says the American in me. But the optimistic part of me has spent about 6 hours scrubbing the floors, walls and ceilings and is thinking of ways to make it feel at least a little bit like home. It's rustic. And not yet photo-worthy.

The country is, well, stunningly beautiful. I'm at about 3,500 feet elevation, so the combination of jetlag, altitude and adrenaline is keeping me on my toes. In other words, I'm up at the crack of dawn and crashing some time around 3pm. Wait, that's now...sigh...

There are a million stories to tell, but the most interesting is my new job. I am the senior mentor to a Colonel in the Afghan National Army. I advise him on manning, women's integration, education and basically anything else he wants to talk about. He's been in the ANA for 31 years and has been a Colonel for 21 years. He has six children...three daughters and three sons. I think he was a little stunned that some skinny, blonde-ish American girl will be his mentor. I will meet with him each day from Saturday through Wednesday. Thursday and Friday are the Afghan weekend. I'm still working on a call-sign for him. I'm also practicing my 8 word sentences...how am I doing so far?!

The most incredible part of today was the brave Afghan woman I met. My interpreter, who we will call Julia, is probably a few years younger than me. She's been speaking and writing English for two years, and though she's still speaking with a thick accent, her English is astonishingly good. Her self taught English, I should mention. I haven't tried my Dari on her yet, but she's promised that each afternoon I will have lessons. I love this plan.

Julia is technically married and has a five year old daughter, though when her daughter was one, Julia's husband fell in love with another woman, as she called it. Apparently men are pigs in all cultures...and that is somehow reassuring.

When I meet Julia again tomorrow she will bring me a head scarf, which though not required for Western women, will probably make my job a lot easier. It's fascinating to watch her translate, and to watch the impact her culture has on her willingness to interact in the man's world that is Afghanistan.

She will make eye contact with the men when she's translating my words, but as the men speak she won't let herself look directly at them. As we walked around the compound where I met her, she always stayed a few steps behind me, always called me "ma'am" and always asked permission before she left my side for any reason.

Tomorrow's a new day with a whole new set of challenges. For today, the challenge is expectation management. My day was productive because I met Julia. And now I'll go back to sitting. And waiting.