Kuwait to Kandahar

As I’m looking forward to the next challenging phase in Afghanistan, this seems like a good time to reflect on my past 14+ months at Camp Virginia. I’m going to miss our small-town atmosphere, the gracious permanent parties, the transient troops and TCNs who so courteously do so much yuck work on base; I’ll miss Reveille, To the Colors, Taps, drills for Incoming and Ground Attacks. (Or maybe I won’t miss those; the same, only more so, in Kandahar.)

At Camp Virginia I’ve learned new things: Chrystal Light in my back pocket feels like a knife in the butt; I’ve picked up some good habits: praying before eating, washing my hands a lot; and I’ve collected some bad ones: toothpicks. There have been some surprises: I don’t curse any more than I did before I came here. I’ve met personal challenges: prevailing over some fears and recognizing that sometimes change is good. So far I have kept the promise I made to myself that I would not eat any donuts. I have travelled more these past 14 months than I could ever dream. I know too much for a woman my age about Call of Duty, Halo and Madden. I’ve discovered a lot about the USO, the people I work with and myself. I didn’t get to see Bo’s graduation from USC and I’ve missed my family, friends, apartment, Golden Spoon, meetings, KY&L and contiguous plumbing more than I can imagine. I met some wonderful, caring, fun and fabulous people who I hope will be friends for many years to come.

I am genuinely surprised by my growing appreciation for our US troops. Before I became a Duty Manager with the USO I had an infatuation with the military. Now I know with absolute certainty that our US troops are the most talented, kind, caring, intelligent, fun, patriotic, loyal, well-prepared, dedicated, hard-working and humble ladies and gentlemen on the planet. Words do not express my admiration and respect for the men and women who are the gift of our American Military.

Can You Say Congested?

I've been working days at the USO these past few months, which I really like. It means I'm here to set up in the morning, unlock our doors and greet our first visitors. We're supposed to open at 10:00 a.m., but I aim for 9:45 a.m. Usually when I unlock there's a couple of people waiting for me; sometimes there's no one. Lately it looks like this when I peek outside.

Marines!! and Just Because

The USO at Camp Virginia is HOPPIN'!!! I am delighted to see so many adorable Marines; even if they're just here for a few days. Marines are so "special" (in every way possible).

As we had previously planned for "Tax Day," we made up some Just Because Bags (at 0600 this morning) and distributed them during the afternoon to some of the permanent parties on base. We tried to make them similar to a traditional school lunch for a taste of home. All were thrilled to receive their PB&J sandwiches, sweet cakes, Capri Sun juice, bite-size candies and chips.

During our rounds we discovered one soldier napping on the job.

The lovely young lady in blue is Wendy J., the new Duty Manager who is going to take my place.

Bye, Bye Bettie

My friend and fellow Duty Manager, Bettie S., left every early this morning to continue her career with the USO in Balad, Iraq. Bettie was my roommate for about 6 months and I had grown to really admire her.

We had a small surprise farewell party at the Center and then Scott, Bettie and I went to PF Chang's for a goodbye dinner. That's three Americans eating in a Chinese restaurant at the mall in Kuwait with a waiter from Sri Lanka. Makes sense to me. Fortunately, we did not discuss at dinner why Bettie was able to relocate 3 weeks after her transfer was authorized and I had to wait 5 months after approval for my new assignment.

Good luck Bettie. I'll miss you.

Movin' On

Finally got a date for my transfer to Kandahar: April 27th.
My new address will be:

Bonah Bachenheimer
Duty Manager
USO - Southwest Asia
APO AE 09355

Whew!

Up Against the Wall

The USO procured another T-wall at Camp Virginia. The volunteers used our design and painted their own wall. I think it looks great.

Music of the Night - Reprise

As usual, I left my cell on as I traveled. I received text messages with the accompanying musical notifications informing me of service with Etisalat, Mobilecom, Orange, GSM, Vodaphone, Mobinil and Royal Jordanian In-Flight Roaming. Travel on the train from Luxor to Cairo was a symphony, with various phones ringing, buzzing and jingling text alerts all night long.

While in Israel, cell service from my Wataniya/Kuwaiti cell phone provided my favorite two messages: "Welcome to your second home, Palestine. Watanya wishes you a pleasant stay." and "Marhaba. Smell the jasmine and taste the olives. JAWWAL welcomes you to Palestine." Oy!

Lovely in the Forest

On Saturday we went for a picnic in Jerusalem Forest, right above Yad Vashem. We left around 10:00 a.m. because we thought the area would be very crowded. Turns out we were just about the only people there. It was a lovely, relaxing and enjoyable family day.

It looks like someone barfed in the cooler, but it's just spilled chatzilim.

Ben Shaloms

I had been trying to get together with Ariel's family but when we called they had too much going on. His father (Tzion) wasn't feeling well and Yechiel's wife Alice (who was at Leorit and Ariel's wedding in Long Beach) was finally having her baby. Shani and I finally got over there on Friday. We saw Yechiel for a few minutes before we left for the hospital to visit Alice and daughter Ben Shalom. We met one of Ariel's other brother's wife and their three sons. (Sorry, don't remember any names.) Ra'anan and Ayala returned to pick us up. We had delicious Yemenite soup and a lovely visit.

Yad Vashem

I had been to the new Yad Vashem (Holocaust Memorial) on my last visit to Israel in 2005, but at the time I was rushed and halls were crowded and I really didn't get to see the exhibits. This time Ra'anan, Ayala, Shani, Carmel and I went and met Idan there. We took our time and really got to experience the exhibits. We checked out some family in the Hall of Names. It felt weird. I didn't want to be taking their time, but then we're all looking for and checking out the same family. Our family.

There's an outdoor section where they have listed all of the communities that were affected by the Nazis. We found Weber (where the Bachenheimer/Meshulam families lived in the 1500s) and Salzwedel (where Ra'anan's and my fathers lived before they left Germany).

Better at the Bar-b-Que

The day after Passover Seder we went back to Doron's and Ilana's for a bar-b-que. Idan and Shirly (his girlfriend who had sayed in our house in 2005) were there, as was Shani's boyfriend. Everyone was relaxed and the food was awesome. I felt much better and had a fun time.

Yaffo and Passover in (Almost) Jerusalem

On Monday morning we visited Jaffo to see an exhibit about the Haitian earthquake. The exhibit was closed but with the help of our new Arab friend (the caretaker) Gihad, we were able to check out the new Station tourist spot. We also walked through the bazaar, got some munchies and strolled around the port area. The tall man is Eitai, Shani's boyfriend.

Passover at Doron's and Ilana's (Ayala's brother and his wife) in Tel Aviv, was fantastic. Ayala's father "Saba David" was there as were numerous kids, nieces, nephews, cousins, friends and family. The whole seder was conducted in Hebrew and I didn't have to read at all. The Four Questions were asked perfectly. It was a wonderful experience.*

*Actually, I was sick as a dog. I was coughing and had taken some codeine, so I was also nauseated and beyond drowsy. But it was still good.

Home Like Home

Arriving in Israel was incredible. Since the flight from Amman was so short (20 minutes), we cruised at 9,000 feet and could see all of the land as we flew into Ben Gurion Airport. Shani had warned me that I might have some challenges with Immigration since I was coming from Kuwait. As it went, the officer checked my passport and said, "You're name is Bonah???" "Yes," I said. He looked again, waited a few seconds, then said, "What's your name???" I responded, "Bonah." He gave me the "That's Not Really a Name" look and I gave him the "What Can I Do About It Now?" look. I said, "My parents were halutzim." He said, "OK. Good-bye," and off I went. The whole exchange took about 20 seconds.

Ra'anan, Ayala, Shani and Carmel picked me up at the airport and I fell sobbing into their hugs -- tears, red eyes, weird noises, snot -- the whole thing. I was so happy to be home with family in Israel.

We went to the mall in the evening so I could buy some sandals.

Meet the Mummies

Even though I was exhausted after 28+ hours without sleep, I couldn't leave Cairo without visiting the Egyptian Museum. This massive collection of enormous rooms contains thousands of antiquities. I had two very peculiar experiences:

First - I paid the extra $20 to enter the room with the mummies. So there I was, two days before Passover 2010, staring into the mummified face of Ramses II who ruled Egypt approximately 3,000 years ago, and who (according to Cecil B. DeMille and some scholars) reigned during the time of Moses and the Israelites' exodus from Egypt.

Second - I had been warned by one of my co-workers who had just visited Egypt that the schoolchildren are particularly enamored with Americans. As I was viewing the exhibits, three 13-year-old girls approached me, asked me if I was American, what was my name, how old was I(!!), was I having fun in Egypt, etc. After a few seconds some friends joined the girls and before a minute there were 30 (I counted!) school kids talking to me, giggling, asking me questions, touching my hair and following me around. Every time I took a few steps this giant ameoba blobbed around me. I felt like Miley Cyrus. A very disconcerting experience.

One 15-year-old boy said, "I don't want to annoys [sic] you, but can I ask you a question?" He said, "Why do American people hate Arab people?" After hemming and hawing, I asked him, "Why do you think that?" (not knowing if I meant Who told you that? or What do you suppose the reason is? He said that he thinks Americans believe all Arabs are terrorists. He said (speaking as an Arab), "We hate terrorists; we hate these killers."

Up in the Night; Down in the Morning

There were no sleeping cars available on any train from Luxor to Cairo so I took the First Class Coach at 10:30 p.m. I was unable to sleep because they kept the car lit the whole 11 hours. Also, every time we stopped to let passengers on, even in the middle of the night, people arrived talking, laughing and singing. The seat was pretty comfortable, but the ride was not my favorite part of my holiday.

There was one man who seemed to know everybody who got on the train. They all were very friendly and delighted to see him; they shook his hand, kissed him and treated him with great warmth and respect. He reminded me of Skip -- if Skip would be wearing a multi-colored, horizontally-striped, cable-knit, pullover sweater. [Think about that for a minute.]

At Ramses Station in Cairo I set out to locate a taxi. I found a man who speaks English (sorta) who guides me to a cab with one of his protégés. I tell the man where I'm going and he explains that to the cabdriver. I ask the man, "Are you sure he knows where my hotel is?" "Of course" answers the man. We start to leave and I ask the older man again, "Does he know where my hotel is?" "Sure, sure, sure" is the response.

As we're driving along my driver opens the passenger window and asks directions to my hotel from the man driving in the car next to us. The conversation goes on for a few seconds and the driver in the car behind us, obviously getting impatient, is beep, beep, beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeping his horn. Finally my driver gets his information and the van that was behind us moves in front. My driver stays back a little. I think he was concerned, as was I, that the van driver would pull out and slam on his brakes. Then the van driver then falls back and intentionally rams hard into the driver's side of our car.

Both cars pull over. Three men exit the van as does the driver of my taxi. They are yelling and gesticulating; arms, hands and tempers are flying. I get out onto the median but I can't go anywhere because my suitcase is in the trunk and we're on the freeway. I just want a shower and breakfast, but the argument goes on for at least 10 minutes. Finally, we all get in our respective cars, my driver asks someone else how to get to my hotel, I try to give him directions from the back seat, and eventually we find it. I didn't give him a tip.