close to home

Well, I have been in Tikrit for nearly ten days now. I am surprised how easily it is to cozy into a big air force base on the other side of the globe. It is a comfortable existence in Tikrit, though I imagine that those east of me would have another story to tell. Living in a protected compound, I don't feel like my existence is being threatened, if I miss real food from the states I can go to the PX and get some. The interesting part is that I don't miss much about the states other than the people I am close to. The mess hall has great food, I drop my clothes off for laundry every three days, and some Pakistani guy is around to cut my hair if it needs to be sheered. This is a simple, pleasant existence.

Working seven days a week has been beneficial to the experience here. Now that the learning curve is flattening, it is easy to forget that there isn't much to do here when you are busy every day. In my situation where I am working nights and sleeping days, it is particularly easy to let each day slide into another; time is flying by. I am finally in the swing of things and learning more about the system. My job has overcome my own expectations of how it would feel to fly, and do something important.

Today is a short post because we are very busy today, but I am lucky that it feels like every time I blink my watch tells me it is sunday and I am a week closer to coming home. Hopefully those who are looking forward to my homecoming feel the same way.

Changing Tides

I have successfully extracted myself from the desert, and relocated myself in another one. This time, I am happy to be here and I'm halfway around the world. Interestingly enough, a job has made my transition possible; work as a surveillance pilot has brought me to Tikrit, Iraq. This blog post is not about where I'm at, it is about my travels to get here. I caught myself feeling nervous leaving LAX, with a realization piquing that it will be quite a long time until I am on American soil again. Never do you realize the security that living in a protected nation provides more, than when you are in transit to a hostile one.

After a long international flight, I arrived in a place that I imagined incorrectly while I was at home daydreaming; the Middle East. Dubai was my introduction. It is an incredible place, mostly due to how incredibly different Dubai is to the vacation millionaire playgrounds found in the West. The culture shock hit me in my jet-lagged state all at once. While wondering the airport, all at once the world stood still, and everyone prayed to the sound of prayer piped through speakers in the whole airport. I was in a somewhat awkward situation, walking through suspended animation as an American; I stuck out like a sore thumb. It was nothing to be put off by however, that experience only wiped away all of my western propaganda-fueled preconceived notions of what middle-easterners might be like. It was overwhelming in a way that I would not have expected.

Before I go to bed at night I always think a little bit about my life and those whom are a part of it. Lately I haven't been able to: Lately I have been fronted with the reality of where I am, and how fast my life has changed. Luckily, where I am will provide me with more than enough stories to continue writing in a way I haven't been able to in the past months.

Job Search

It dawned on me today that I am trying to dive into a completely impregnable job market. Since I am 19 years old, I have limited skills, limited job experience, and limited education; though I am working fervently on the latter. It's easy to conclude that American jobs mirror the American socio-economic hierarchy. Plenty of career jobs available for people with a long list of credentials and those who are perfectly happy working at KFC, but nothing for those who are just on their way up. It is an unhappy reality for nearly everyone I know.

My self-prescribed remedy; not to sulk, reminisce about less stressful times, and remind myself of the things I do everyday to make myself happy. My family and faith will always pull me through the rough patches. There are ubiquitous people I'm fortunate to have, that ignite a hunger inside me to wake up and fight for a more rewarding life, day in and day out. There are people who protect the flicker-flame inside my soul that drives me: they give me something easily given, but difficult to take. They give me consciousness. Thanks to those aforementioned, and a hand cast forth to those in my future.

Rumors of Rain

For the last few days I've been eyeballing my "dashboard" (for those who don't have a mac, it's a page of helpful widgets), and more particularly the weather widget. The Inyokern area was forecast to receive rain on Monday, Tuesday, and now today: so far there hasn't been much more than a few drops. As far as I can see, whoever supports the weather widget for mac, must think it's fun to play a cruel charade on the dry, dusty citizens of the Indian Wells Valley.

Year-to-date, Inyokern, Ca, has received roughly 0.5" of rain; not entirely a monumental figure. To a former Seattleite, the promise of rain in a place so dry carries "biblical" helpings of excitement: Expectations of difference in a place where everyday is the same is not merely something you take for granted. Apparently this thought never crossed the mind of the forecasting "experts." I hate to use my first blog post to whine about how lousy Inyokern is, because this blog isn't a 14-year-old's "bitch book." However, certain aspects of this place are irritating to the point that I can't help but write about them. All the negativity this place bleeds, serves as fuel for my escape, which is helpful: I can't wait to get myself down the tracks.