Visiting Home again...

The nice people of the “Big Red One”—the unit I am a part of right now in Fort Riley—gave us a four day weekend over Easter so—as expected—I bought tickets to go home with the family. It was nice to be able to get away from the place I sometimes call home when I am tired and just want to sleep. It is not home by any chance but it is the closest thing to “my own space” right now.

While I am at my real home, I get to learn about what has been happening since I have been gone. I have to understand that the kids are growing and I have to acknowledge it. I have to notice and accept that—since Trace is the only parent around lately—they always go to Dad when they need something. I have to accept that in some weird way, I am a stranger in my own house. The good thing is that they love me and they remember me. I think it would be unbearable to have to start establishing a relationship with my sons every time I come home. Thankfully, Trace has made sure the kids—especially Vance, my three year old—remember who their Momma is.

So, the daffodils and the tulips are in full bloom and all the other flowers are making their way out. Spring in Washington State is beautiful, green, luscious and full of color. Our garden looks beautiful and our lawn is as green as it can be. I saw my two beautiful golden retrievers—Cashion and Tracker—and they are healthy and a lot fatter than the last time I saw them. My older son is playing “mad” guitar and practicing to enter a talent show; my middle son is learning to play percussion and playing baseball and my little son is watching his older brothers grow while trying to catch my attention by telling me: “you have beautiful eyes!”

I feel weird when they ask me about what I have been doing. I don’t think that I should expand on all the dangers of my future job but I also think that it is absolutely unfair to not let them know at least the big picture.

I had to sit down with my husband and talk about the things that I wanted to happen if I was to be gone. We talked about things that are as morbid as anyone can imagine but yet, so necessary at this point of time.

Everyday that I wake up, I think about what I have done the day before, what I am going to do that day and how I can make it better. Everyday, I wish that I have been fair and hope that I have been forgiven by all the people that I have hurt intentionally or unintentionally; everyday scrutinize my life and try to make it better for me. I hope that will be the lesson learned from this experience, I hope my life only becomes better after this lovely storm.

Ft. Riley, my Chrysalis

I have been in Ft. Riley, Kansas since March 3, 2007. The post is located near a couple of small towns; Junction City—crappy place with no real attractions and Manhattan—not great but a lot better than the former one. Manhattan is small but its tolerable since is has the Kansas State University campus within it thus having the main necessities near by.

I have been provided with a small twin bed—bottom bunk—and three wall-lockers that are approximately 12 inches wide; quite exciting considering that I can barely fit my clothes in my closet at home. I share my room with 4 other females and we have to share the bathroom and showers with the rest of females in the building—the number varies depending on the classes present at the time. We have the military mess hall for our breakfast, lunch and dinner but you can always choose to skip the disappointment and either eat somewhere else or starve yourself to death. The people in Camp Funston—also called “Funtown” or “Kansistan—thinks is pretty humorous that you can sometimes find hairs and other foreign objects in your food. Thank goodness I haven’t had that experience yet!

Part of the training is to understand the Iraqi culture and to learn at least the basics of their language. As a female officer, it is quite difficult to tolerate the fact that part of their culture is to think that women do not have the same societal status than men. We were warned not go get offended if the Iraqi leader that we will advice does not want to shake our hand or talk directly to us. I honestly do not think I am going to be too broken hearted about that. The Iraqi nationals that are working for the military in Ft. Riley to help train us cooked us a traditional—as traditional as it was possible—dinner. They made us dress up as Iraqi women and sit in a table by ourselves but we too joined in the eating with our bare hands instead of using silverware. I was surprised with the food, it was tasty and not bad at all but then again…that was just one meal.

Before I left for Ft. Riley, I was determined that I will get a new tattoo. For reasons that I cannot explain in this blog, I decided to tattoo a butterfly on my right shoulder. I can only say that it signifies the many changes I have went through for the last 6 months or so since I found out that I will be going to Iraq. Ever since then, I have an eerie feeling that shouts “LIVE YOUR LIFE!!!” Feelings that tell me to make sure I do not keep to myself the feelings that are revolting inside of me; feelings that are forcing me to look at myself in a different light, a light that sometimes reveals things I rather not think of. So, this butterfly marks a time in my life where I have changed, grown and discovered what’s important for me…

Since the time I moved to “Funtown,” I have been going through some rough changes and discovering parts of me that I never thought reside in me. That’s why I call Ft. Riley “my Chrysalis.” I feel like I am in a cocoon waiting to come out, waiting to see the world in a whole different way and waiting to re-learn all the things that I thought I knew about myself and others. I am not sure what my meconium—leftover wing pigments and unneeded tissues from the butterfly's wing formation— is going to leave behind or exactly how my “showers of blood”—product left behind by a butterfly after going through metamorphosis—are going to affect my future but I am anxious to finally be able to look back at this time and comprehend why I had to endure it all and carry on adapting to a new me, for better or for worse.

My Days in Washington...

I have spent 36 days at home in Yelm, WA trying to make up in 36 days for a whole year of being physically absent from their lives.

As the days ticked by, I often wonder if I was doing enough to be remembered; am I going to leave trademarks of my love, my tenderness; is my two year old going to remember who I am by the time I am allowed to come back home. It is unfeasible to predict the future, especially when I am going to have little to no control of my fate therefore all I can do is hope and pray that I have done enough to always be in their hearts and minds as a loving mother that sacrificed everything for their wellbeing.

During my bonding time with my family, I have been trying to keep a positive attitude on all the things that are currently happening in our country. One cannot escape the arguments being thrown back and forth about the surge of troops in Iraq, who’s with it and who’s against it. I sit at home and I wonder what the right answer could be but it is so difficult to make an unbiased assessment when my life is being affected by this war to the point that I will be right in the middle of it.

I guess the right answer for me is to go to Iraq and do my job with the highest level of proficiency within me. Maybe my opinion will change once I have the ultimate experience but then again…maybe not.

I was finally enlightened with an answer….

Thank you, thank you. Finally some of my questions have been answered by the man himself. Jim Lehrer—BBC News—asked President Bush why he has not asked more Americans people to sacrifice something since the only ones sacrificing now are the volunteer military members and their families, the President said:

"Well, you know, I think a lot of people are in this fight. I mean, they sacrifice peace of mind when they see the terrible images of violence on TV every night. I mean, we've got a fantastic economy here in the United States, but yet, when you think about the psychology of the country, it is somewhat down because of this war."

Then he added: "Now, here in Washington when I say, 'What do you mean by that?' they say, 'Well, why don't you raise their taxes; that'll cause there to be a sacrifice.' I strongly oppose that. If that's the kind of sacrifice people are talking about, I'm not for it because raising taxes will hurt this growing economy. And one thing we want during this war on terror is for people to feel like their life's moving on, that they're able to make a living and send their kids to college and put more money on the table."

I will have good night sleep tonight knowing that the person sitting on his/her “lazy boy” with a Bush Light in hand watching Fox News is sacrificing just as much as I am when I spend a whole year of my life eating what is given to me, wearing Army uniforms all day under extreme cold or hot weather, missing my family, watching for IEDs and other attacks, and dealing with whatever other adversities come my way…oh! Lets add to that at least he/she can make this huge sacrifice drunk while the only escape for “us,” the ones that actually go there, is to maybe close our eyes and hope to dream about something else than WAR.

How foolish of me to not understand this concept… Isn’t it easier to tell it like it is? How much longer are we going to run around the real issues? When are they going to be addressed?



Watch that portion of the interview here, courtesy of The Young Turks.com

Going Through the Motions

Well, I am another step closer to my future glorious experience in Iraq. I have completed the Combined Logistics Captains Career Course (CLC3) and now I am just patching up all the little details that need to be taken care of before I head out to Kansas and eventually to Iraq.

I have been trying to see my loved ones and let them know that I am going to be safe and happy even though I am going to be so far from them. I just returned from Puerto Rico where I saw my parents for only a weekend but the time spent with them was more special than it has ever been before. There’s something very somber about seeing your loved ones before you head out to war. Even though you hope for the best, you want to make sure you tell them you love them because you don’t know if you won’t have the opportunity to do it later.

Many things have changed—politically speaking—since my first post. The opposition—as they call it in other countries—has been questioning and demanding better answers as to what is our objective in Iraq and how is the administration planning to achieve it. So far, the response is not clear; all we know is that we will stay there until they are able to manage their situation.

It is hard not to feel frustrated when, even though most Americans will like us to find a way out of Iraq, we continue to hear the same answer in which we will “stay the course.” I heard somewhere—and concur—that we are creating a “culture of dependency” in Iraq. Why would you go and be self sufficient when, for example, your parents will provide everything for you without a time constraint? Be honest, most of us will take advantage of the free ride and that seems to be the situation right now with Iraq and the U.S.

Some of my questions are:

• Is it a bad strategy to give a timeline to the Iraqi government to get a hold of their country and thus allow our troops to come home and stop the spending on nation building?
• Is this cause worth more than 3,000 American troops’ lives and more than 20,000 injured—or the amount of Iraqi non-combatants killed or injured?
• Would our top government officials send their sons and daughters—of enlistment age—to fight for what they so adamantly have defended for the past four years?
• Are war supporters that are sitting at home watching the news more patriotic than me, who thinks that we should get a plan to redeploy our troops nevertheless I will still go and serve my country and fulfill my duty?
• What makes a soldier more eligible to die for his/her country than those who are born in “old money”?

As I pack my things and ponder about the next 18 months of my life, I cannot help but to long for real answers because I want it to make sense.