I stare at this screen.
Part of me feels like a writer, scaling the depths of a starving art. Part of me feels like this might be a mistake, like perhaps, I just changed my mind. But the most of me feels...
I need to get this out.
As I write, blog, type, speak, learn, exist...I sit in a sweltering hot tent in the Helmand Province of Afghanistan. Outside? 125 degrees. Inside the safety of this shelter? 99. I ponder what the point of my writing is...who will read it, if anyone would concern themselves with the travels and experiences of a world-wandering 23 year old. Until I realize, this isn't for you. This is for me.
I can't possibly begin to relay every life-changing experience I've had since I've been here. I can't describe the grief-ridden face of the Marine being sent to Germany, about to find out if he needs his hand amputated, the tears streaming down his face as he describes his shattering heartbreak in not being able to throw a football to his future son. There are no words to adequately describe the fear that rattles my bones every time a rocket whistles into the camp in Kandahar, hitting the floor as dust falls from crude light fixtures, and quickly trying to recall where the nearest bunker is and the fastest way to get there. There might not be words...but I will try.
Above all, I have met more hurting human beings in this hellish country than anywhere else. Afghanistan is an anomoly of sorts, a grab-bag of Military being sent out to fight a war that they don't believe in but on behalf of the Country they love...civilians from every country on this planet coming here for the sake of their culture, supporting an entire family on the profiteering of this war...and people like me.
Me. I feel so insignificant to the comings and goings of this place. But I came here willingly. I knew that this experience, this country broken by the debilitating opression of war, was going to fill a void that nothing in the United States would be able to satisfy. I longed for adventure, I longed to see the world...so I took the first step. I had no idea what I was getting myself into...
Part of me feels like a writer, scaling the depths of a starving art. Part of me feels like this might be a mistake, like perhaps, I just changed my mind. But the most of me feels...
I need to get this out.
As I write, blog, type, speak, learn, exist...I sit in a sweltering hot tent in the Helmand Province of Afghanistan. Outside? 125 degrees. Inside the safety of this shelter? 99. I ponder what the point of my writing is...who will read it, if anyone would concern themselves with the travels and experiences of a world-wandering 23 year old. Until I realize, this isn't for you. This is for me.
I can't possibly begin to relay every life-changing experience I've had since I've been here. I can't describe the grief-ridden face of the Marine being sent to Germany, about to find out if he needs his hand amputated, the tears streaming down his face as he describes his shattering heartbreak in not being able to throw a football to his future son. There are no words to adequately describe the fear that rattles my bones every time a rocket whistles into the camp in Kandahar, hitting the floor as dust falls from crude light fixtures, and quickly trying to recall where the nearest bunker is and the fastest way to get there. There might not be words...but I will try.
Above all, I have met more hurting human beings in this hellish country than anywhere else. Afghanistan is an anomoly of sorts, a grab-bag of Military being sent out to fight a war that they don't believe in but on behalf of the Country they love...civilians from every country on this planet coming here for the sake of their culture, supporting an entire family on the profiteering of this war...and people like me.
Me. I feel so insignificant to the comings and goings of this place. But I came here willingly. I knew that this experience, this country broken by the debilitating opression of war, was going to fill a void that nothing in the United States would be able to satisfy. I longed for adventure, I longed to see the world...so I took the first step. I had no idea what I was getting myself into...
But I wouldn't have it any other way.
Sister dust tornadoes
I never cease to be amazed.
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