So like I said, I’m in Iraq. And let me tell you, it rocks. Well, not really.
I live in what I’ve heard referenced to as a Chu. Is that spelled right? I couldn’t tell you. I don’t know what a Chu is supposed to be, or how it should be spelled. What I would call this, is a section of a trailer home. A trailer home entrapped in jersey barriers.
The same barricades which engulf everything else on this post. It makes for the question, am I going home, or to the bank? At times, I can’t tell.
My walls consist of real wood paneling, maybe particle board, covered by fake wood paneling wallpaper. The redundancy is confusing, but I figure the wallpaper is used as some sort of bizarre lacquer, to stop me from warping the particle board with moisture or something. As if I’m going to sit here and mist water at the walls when I’m board.
The room seems to be about 15 feet by 15 feet, and three of these rooms sit in a single “trailer home”. We all have doors. And roommates. The guy on the far end smells like mildew, I can tell when he opens his door. The girls in the middle are officers and seem, for lack of a better word, slutty. Across the way there is a girl ripped on anti-depressants rooming with a girl whose only words to me occurred when she darted out of the doorway for a minute, looked up and informed me of her desire to vomit. I almost asked if she’d been eating her roommate’s pills.
But it’s a bed, in a room with a door and a lock, so it beats out Kuwait.
The food is, as everywhere in the military, repetitive, but what can you expect a mass feeding frenzy to be? It isn’t bad though, and the dining facility has certain perks to it which I’ve boiled down into two categories: Flash, and Dazzle. I made both of those up as I finished the sentence, so they of course have no meaning in any sense. But the food varies enough for me to be entertained; lately I’ve been eyeballing the Panini grill with zeal, so I think all of my lunches will consist of a sandwich.
The gym is suitable to my needs, and there is free water everywhere. Even on street corners, you see palates of water sitting around, unloved. So when I see them I smile, and grab one, and hope that the water appreciates my momentarily undivided attention. I enjoy staying hydrated, as it beats out dehydration and death, so I’m not above free water.
Kuwait has rocks and sand, which this part of Iraq also has, but Iraq seems augmented with trees and plants and even grass in some parts. The grass is a little suspicious though, as it seems to grow near fences and gymnasiums, and I don’t trust it.
In general, Iraq isn’t bad at all. But then again, I’ve only been here 3 days and I haven’t left the base, nor have I really done any work. So there is a good chance I’m missing out on the shittier side.
And since I’ll be here maybe a month or two, and won’t do any work in that time, and won’t leave the base until I get to the next place…Iraq won’t be so bad for a bit. Until then, I’m going to go mist some water at the walls.
I live in what I’ve heard referenced to as a Chu. Is that spelled right? I couldn’t tell you. I don’t know what a Chu is supposed to be, or how it should be spelled. What I would call this, is a section of a trailer home. A trailer home entrapped in jersey barriers.
The same barricades which engulf everything else on this post. It makes for the question, am I going home, or to the bank? At times, I can’t tell.My walls consist of real wood paneling, maybe particle board, covered by fake wood paneling wallpaper. The redundancy is confusing, but I figure the wallpaper is used as some sort of bizarre lacquer, to stop me from warping the particle board with moisture or something. As if I’m going to sit here and mist water at the walls when I’m board.
The room seems to be about 15 feet by 15 feet, and three of these rooms sit in a single “trailer home”. We all have doors. And roommates. The guy on the far end smells like mildew, I can tell when he opens his door. The girls in the middle are officers and seem, for lack of a better word, slutty. Across the way there is a girl ripped on anti-depressants rooming with a girl whose only words to me occurred when she darted out of the doorway for a minute, looked up and informed me of her desire to vomit. I almost asked if she’d been eating her roommate’s pills.
But it’s a bed, in a room with a door and a lock, so it beats out Kuwait.
The food is, as everywhere in the military, repetitive, but what can you expect a mass feeding frenzy to be? It isn’t bad though, and the dining facility has certain perks to it which I’ve boiled down into two categories: Flash, and Dazzle. I made both of those up as I finished the sentence, so they of course have no meaning in any sense. But the food varies enough for me to be entertained; lately I’ve been eyeballing the Panini grill with zeal, so I think all of my lunches will consist of a sandwich.
The gym is suitable to my needs, and there is free water everywhere. Even on street corners, you see palates of water sitting around, unloved. So when I see them I smile, and grab one, and hope that the water appreciates my momentarily undivided attention. I enjoy staying hydrated, as it beats out dehydration and death, so I’m not above free water.
Kuwait has rocks and sand, which this part of Iraq also has, but Iraq seems augmented with trees and plants and even grass in some parts. The grass is a little suspicious though, as it seems to grow near fences and gymnasiums, and I don’t trust it.
In general, Iraq isn’t bad at all. But then again, I’ve only been here 3 days and I haven’t left the base, nor have I really done any work. So there is a good chance I’m missing out on the shittier side.
And since I’ll be here maybe a month or two, and won’t do any work in that time, and won’t leave the base until I get to the next place…Iraq won’t be so bad for a bit. Until then, I’m going to go mist some water at the walls.
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