Playing catch-up

Hello, everyone. Long time no talk. As I attempted to adjust to a new hectic schedule the first few weeks on the ground here in Kosovo, I neglected to update my blog. Quite a few things happened since I last posted. Some good. Some not so good. Where do I start? Well, how about before Thanksgiving…

I was a crazy fool the day I decided to participate in the DANCON road march. Four JVB team members and I navigated a 25 km course with a 22 pound backpack in 5 ½ hours. Oddly enough, the first 3 miles were the most difficult for me. After that, I learned the mental game of walking until your feet fall off. The day was beautiful, the scenery gorgeous. The only major hiccup was a 2 or 3 km stretch that was straight uphill. We climbed so high that we reached an area that was higher in elevation than the smog from Mitrovica. I took a deep breath of fresh air, which is hard to find, and then continued the 2 or 3 km downhill stretch. Somewhere along the way, I ripped open a blister and rolled an ankle. I had no idea until I reached the finish line, sat down for a half hour, and then tried to get up. I’m still trying to get my ankle up to speed!

The next major event was Thanksgiving. We started the day with a 5 km Gobble Gash, which we as a team walked. Later that afternoon we attended Thanksgiving dinner at our dining facility. The spread was quite impressive compared to what our contractors normally put out. Every table had a couple bottles of nonalcoholic wine and menus with a letter from the United States Army Europe commander. All the Thanksgiving standards were available, served by the officers and senior NCOs from our task force. The JVB team ate together, and before the end of the meal, each person mentioned something they were thankful for. I had myself a cup of eggnog and headed back to my room for a little Skype with the family. The absolute best part of my Thanksgiving holiday was the opportunity to see and visit with my family over Skype. I even had the opportunity to see my great grandmother, which I’m sure she could never have imagined possible.

We changed our JVB mission for the day a couple of weeks ago when we traveled with a Liaison Monitoring Team to a school way up in the hills near Strpce. We were warmly welcomed by the faculty and children of the tiny school of about 60 students. We had a meet and greet in a little office that was heated by a wood stove, where one of the teachers dominated the conversation with talk about the needs of his school. He, like many other people of Kosovo, continually thanked us for what we’ve done as U.S. soldiers. Another teacher remarked at how many female soldiers we had with us. After our meeting, the teachers challenged us to game of volleyball outside. I took on the roll of photographer. One thing really got to me while I was watching the match. A couple of the little girls really admired me for some reason. I would look away for a couple of seconds, and all of a sudden I would have a new friend six inches from my face. I hope whatever it is that makes me an interesting person to them helps them in the future to become the young women they are meant to be. Kosovo is changing, and I hope that these girls will be a positive influence in that process.

Besides the mundane, day in, day out part of a deployment, my life has been pretty exciting. I’ve tried Thai food for the first time, mastered manual transmission vehicles and Kosovo traffic, and I’ve even learned my fair share of information about primates and humans from an online course. Things aren’t turning out too badly after all.Hello, everyone. Long time no talk. As I attempted to adjust to a new hectic schedule the first few weeks on the ground here in Kosovo, I neglected to update my blog. Quite a few things happened since I last posted. Some good. Some not so good. Where do I start? Well, how about before Thanksgiving…

I was a crazy fool the day I decided to participate in the DANCON road march. Four JVB team members and I navigated a 25 km course with a 22 pound backpack in 5 ½ hours. Oddly enough, the first 3 miles were the most difficult for me. After that, I learned the mental game of walking until your feet fall off. The day was beautiful, the scenery gorgeous. The only major hiccup was a 2 or 3 km stretch that was straight uphill. We climbed so high that we reached an area that was higher in elevation than the smog from Mitrovica. I took a deep breath of fresh air, which is hard to find, and then continued the 2 or 3 km downhill stretch. Somewhere along the way, I ripped open a blister and rolled an ankle. I had no idea until I reached the finish line, sat down for a half hour, and then tried to get up. I’m still trying to get my ankle up to speed!

The next major event was Thanksgiving. We started the day with a 5 km Gobble Gash, which we as a team walked. Later that afternoon we attended Thanksgiving dinner at our dining facility. The spread was quite impressive compared to what our contractors normally put out. Every table had a couple bottles of nonalcoholic wine and menus with a letter from the United States Army Europe commander. All the Thanksgiving standards were available, served by the officers and senior NCOs from our task force. The JVB team ate together, and before the end of the meal, each person mentioned something they were thankful for. I had myself a cup of eggnog and headed back to my room for a little Skype with the family. The absolute best part of my Thanksgiving holiday was the opportunity to see and visit with my family over Skype. I even had the opportunity to see my great grandmother, which I’m sure she could never have imagined possible.

We changed our JVB mission for the day a couple of weeks ago when we traveled with a Liaison Monitoring Team to a school way up in the hills near Strpce. We were warmly welcomed by the faculty and children of the tiny school of about 60 students. We had a meet and greet in a little office that was heated by a wood stove, where one of the teachers dominated the conversation with talk about the needs of his school. He, like many other people of Kosovo, continually thanked us for what we’ve done as U.S. soldiers. Another teacher remarked at how many female soldiers we had with us. After our meeting, the teachers challenged us to game of volleyball outside. I took on the roll of photographer. One thing really got to me while I was watching the match. A couple of the little girls really admired me for some reason. I would look away for a couple of seconds, and all of a sudden I would have a new friend six inches from my face. I hope whatever it is that makes me an interesting person to them helps them in the future to become the young women they are meant to be. Kosovo is changing, and I hope that these girls will be a positive influence in that process.

Besides the mundane, day in, day out part of a deployment, my life has been pretty exciting. I’ve tried Thai food for the first time, mastered manual transmission vehicles and Kosovo traffic, and I’ve even learned my fair share of information about primates and humans from an online course. Things aren’t turning out too badly after all.

What BREW in Action actually means

Contrary to what you might believe, the title of my blog has nothing to do with alcohol or tea or any drink you can brew. The titled is actually based on the simplified version of Concordia College's mission statement: Becoming Responsibly Engaged in the World. I spent my first year in college writing several papers about this phrase. Every professor wanted me to find a definition for BREW. Though I hated how mundane the assignments were, they left an impression on me. The only problem was that I couldn't find a way to influence the world I lived in. I felt like I kept taking from everyone, rather than giving to those who need it. I was given an education, was ministered to in church services, was loved disproportionately. It killed me.
Thousands of miles away from my home, I have made BREW my mission statement. We are not missionaries here in Kosovo. The U.N. stopped some nasty things that were going on here back in the '90s. NATO pushed out a lot of humanitarian aid from then until just recently. But now, things are different. Help doesn't come so much in donations as it does with a friendly wave and a good conversation over a macchiato. To be honest, I expected BREW to be more like the former. I guess influence comes in many different forms.
To give you an idea of what this kind of interaction is like, let me tell you a story. The man you see in this photo is the owner of a restaurant near the Church of the Black Madonna. He knows little English, but he speaks German pretty well. KFOR 11's JVB were regular customers when they brought generals in the area. They would often come in the day prior to tell him that they were going to be bringing someone the next day. He would then prepare an extravagant meal for them. Well, Josefi loves U.S. troops. When I first met him, he gave us all macchiatos on the house, simply out of kindness. KFOR 11 shared their goodbyes, and I could tell they were truly heartfelt. He shaked all of our hands and gave us a huge hug. Then he pointed down the road and told us that next time, he wants to show us his house. I can tell we are in the beginning of a friendship. Now I have no clue what we did to deserve such kind treatment. In some ways I feel that people like Josefi are simply gracious. There is nothing "humanitarian" about friendship, but it leaves a huge impact on the world.
I met a man in Prizren today who was overjoyed to talk to U.S. Soldiers. He started the conversation by talking about Michael Jackson and how he is #1 in the music world. Then he proceeded to mention Tom Cruise and other entertainers. He was conscious of our time and asked if it was alright that we were talking to him. It seemed like he just wanted to chat with an American.
Okay, so I hope you understand that becoming responsibly engage in the world doesn't always mean being a good Samaritan. My definition changes constantly, but as of right now, I can see that it is rarely a one-sided affair. I am struck by the kindness of strangers. People like Josefi and my friend from Prizren demonstrate BREW in their undue hospitality. Here's my new acronym for BREW: Building Relationships EveryWhere.

The plan

I just started work on my professional goal for the deployment. The plan is that I will leave Kosovo with an Associate's degree through the help of active duty tuition assistance. I'm working through University of Maryland University College - Europe. I know. It's a mouthful. With only five classes in addition to the credits I earned at Concordia, I can receive a degree.
Now why would I do that? Well, it's a long story, but the key point is it's a lot easier to move about in the professional world with a degree in hand. You never know. I could land a perfect summer internship with an Associate's. And why not? The military is paying for it, with the exception of books. I need something to keep me occupied in my free time, and I want to stay active in academics until I return to Concordia.
But there's another reason. At times I feel unintelligent because I am a driver. The job requires more skill than intelligence, and it's left for E-4s and E-5s who don't qualify for anything else. Unfortunately my training as a military musician didn't qualify me for anything else on the deployment. Don't get me wrong. I value the work we do as the joint visitors bureau. If it were not for us, general officers would run unescorted across Camp Bondsteel without any sort of agenda. Poor Soldiers wouldn't know anything about protocol and would fail to call buildings to attention and salute the general's vehicle without our guidance. Our commanding general wouldn't know anything about his visitors, and the task force as a whole would be unprepared. A lot of work goes into what we do, but in the end, people can't get past my job title: Driver.
My college attendance gives me a little more dignity. I'm taking physical anthropology, a course I feel is perfect considering the cultural diversity present in both our task force and Kosovo as a whole. The content corresponds with the objective of my global studies major: to learn about the diverse cultures of this world and define the common thread that makes us all human.

Football in Kosovo

Kids are a different breed here in Kosovo. The absolute first thing I noticed when I got on the road from Pristina to Camp Bondsteel the day I got here was the children. They are adorable, bold, vivacious, insane, well dressed, and completely receptive to any and all influences. Every kid who saw our convoy waved and smiled. They love us for some reason. Even in the most "hostile" areas, the kids are the most likely to give us positive recognition. When we pass by on the street, many of them giggle as they try out their English skills.
These kids live in a different world than the one in the States. In many areas, there is no such thing as a sidewalk. Our vehicles pass within inches of small children who roam along the roadway. It kills me to see how preschool age children walk independently on these crazy streets with no parent in sight. Some of them have backpacks half their size. They live in continual danger, but no one seems to blink an eye about it. But the great thing about the children here is that they are still kids, no matter what kind of lifestyle they live.
Like typical Europeans, Kosovar kids LOVE football (the European kind i.e. soccer). When my team went out on a recon this afternoon, we found a group of boys who were playing around with a little soccer ball near the church we were visiting. I have been dying to play, so started passing the ball to one of the kids. A couple of Soldiers joined in the circle, then a few kids joined. I was reminded that my primary mission was the see the Church of the Black Madonna, where Mothere Teresa received her calling, so I hopped in there and took a look around. It was awe inspiring, but I kept thinking about the kids. I walked out and saw that what started as kicking the ball around became a full-fledged game. Kids against Soldiers. I quickly hopped into the game, M4 still slung behind my back. After a couple of minutes, the priest who was overseeing the game motioned for me to put my weapon down beside him. I couldn't exactly do that, but one of my comrades volunteered to hold it for me. I took the first few minutes of the game lightly. I didn't want to hurt anybody, and I've always been taught to let the kids win. It builds their self-esteem. But after awhile, I realized my butt was being kicked by a bunch of 7 to 12-year-olds, and they were laughing about it. The game was on!
I let out my aggression on this boy in pink (note picture above) who had outsmarted me too many times. I was jogging to the ball when it went out into the boonies when I noticed he was right next to me. I eyballed him, and he eyeballed me. I knew it would be a race. We sprinted, with several kids behind us cheering him on. It was a tie, but I let him have the ball so I wouldn't have to trample him.
In the end, Father Chris introduced us to all of the kids. Some were refugees from Macedonia. Some were Albanians. Others were Serbs. I had never been in situation with kids from so many places and backgrounds. This is not common in Kosovo, where people are influenced by ethnic tension on every level. Cities are divided. Kids go to separate schools. They even speak different languages. This football game was truly special.

What happened in Germany...

So I never wrote a post while I was in Germany. "Why?" you might ask. Well, internet access was next to impossible. I had enough time to check my e-mail, and that was about it. Sure, we had a building set up for personal internet access, but it was only for 15 minutes at a time. I couldn't even justify the time spent in vain to keep you all informed. Excuse #2: I was severely depressed about the kind of living conditions I was forced to live in, and I really didn't want to talk about it. We had open showers and food called unit group rations that came out of frozen boxes. I had too much free time but nothing to do to fill the time. I couldn't focus on anything else but the bad things that I had to deal with everyday. Sure, good things happened, but I was so wrapped up in what was going on that I probably missed it.
The moral of the story is that I am now out of Hohenfels and in Kosovo. Things have improved greatly, and I have the time and resources to pick up the story from here. (Though I might share a few stories from Germany a little later.)

Pass Part 3

I made a fresh discovery here at Camp Atterbury. I am a free woman. Yeah, I said it. Though I have no car to drive to Indy, I have freedom of movement about the post. And for the last day of my pass, I can sleep in as long as I care to without guilt. So I did just that. I slept in until 9 and read for three hours until my book ran out. I was hungry, but I was not about to eat chow hall food. No way, no how. I showered, geared up, and made the trek down to the all ranks club to order myself a burger and fries. And here I am, with a full belly and a happy, defiant demeanor. The club is an interesting place, a place I really didn't discover until a week ago. There is a bar, of course; a short order cafe; and a coffee shop that I have yet to utilize. I'm looking at the menu right now, and I see all the chai tea, lattes and mochas I never ordered. The day is still young, I suppose. I don't think I'm going to leave this place without a coffee or tea beverage in my hand. It's been too long.

Pass ends tonight. My bags are almost completely packed and ready for the flight to Germany. As much as I am tired to packing and unpacking, I know that every time I am getting closer to Kosovo. I see Germany as temporary housing. I will not be there long enough for my initial patience to wear off. I really lost my patience with Atterbury after about three weeks. I think I can deal with Hohenfels and its substandard living conditions for just as long, maybe a little longer. I can play the game. The Army has taught me how to endure, and it has slowly raised my tolerance level. I won't allow myself to be treated as property of the government yet, but I'm getting there. Give me a few more years in the service, and I will gladly be the Army's pin cushion despite my fear of needles. I will hardly blink twice about 16-18 hour days on a specialist's paycheck. You wait. It'll happen. I'm not there yet, but I'm going down that path.

Pass Part 2

Pass really started the moment I awoke from my nap after the trip to Indy. I packed my assault pack (Army backpack) for a vacation in Edinburgh. A buddy and I made a hotel reservation for the Holiday Inn Express for two nights, and the hotel staff was nice enough to allow us to check in early. So by noon I was back in my civies and in my nice little hotel room, rested and ready for an adventure. Granted, we were limited by our age because we couldn't rent a car. No worries. There was an outlet mall right outside our door. The hotel was in want of many things, but do you think I really cared about any of them when I was just happy to sleep in a real bed and have a real bathroom? The one thing I wish they had was a hot tub.
I had two priorities while on pass.
1. Get some new clothes.
2. Eat hearty portions of real food from many different places.
I accomplished both like a pro. I bought some cute shirts from PacSun and Rue 21 and even got some new running shoes from the Adidas outlet. As far as food is concerned, I had Snappy Tomato pizza, some of the best stuff I've had. I hit up Ruby Tuesday and had a real burger, and then went to Montana Mike's and had amazing steak.
Unfortunately, I ended up with a migraine (with every symptom of a hangover, without the alcohol). Apparently, when a person is finally free of a stressful environment, her body lets its guard down and illness happens. Needless to say, my $15 meal didn't do its job. I only ate half the steak and very little of the shrimp. It was still good though.
Now I'm back at Camp Atterbury without wheels, so I don't know what I will do until tomorrow night. I guess I'll see what happens. More to come...