True Confessions

Praveen at peace. He doesn't know about the palak paneer.

Person: Praveen
Location: Guwahati, India
Recipe: Vegetable Makhani

I cheated on my Indian couchsurfer. I know. I’m an awful human being.

And this after he brought me diamonds. And pearls. And brass earrings. And an odd but cool-looking key ring that sounds like bells when you shake it.

Diamonds and pearls and silver and brass are a girl's best friend(s).

And tea, god bless him, from his family’s tea plantation in Guwahati in the northeastern state of Assam.

Oh and then, he saved my life. That’s right. He saved my life, metaphorically speaking, anyway.

And still, I cheated on him! I’m clearly an awful human being.

Do you want to know how he saved my life?

Well, for an entire year, I’d been sitting on a free $800 American Airlines ticket to ANYWHERE IN THE WORLD that I snagged after agreeing to be bumped from a flight to France last year.

For a whole year I’d been sitting on that ticket, waiting, just waiting, for the right moment to cash it in so I could fly to ANYWHERE IN THE WORLD.

But then life took over, and I forgot about the ticket. I knew it had to be booked in September, but my day job didn’t allow for more vacation, so I’d purposely delayed booking a flight for as long as possible in order to push it into the following year.

Okay, so now it’s September second, a Friday night, and Praveen is at my house. He’s being incredibly nice.  We’re eating leftovers from an amazing Indian dinner he cooked for me the night before. When all of a sudden, it occurs to me that it’s September, which means, that’s right, that ticket, I need to book it soon because I have ONE YEAR to use it.

Do you see where this is going?

So I open the drawer in which I keep the envelope containing the ticket, pry it open, and discover that it needs to be booked THAT NIGHT!

ओह, नहीं!!  (“Oh, no!” in Hindi)

I start freaking out. I call American Airlines. What can I do? Where can I go? HELP!!!

After some back and forth, the ticket agent and I agree that my best bet is to fly to London on April 1, 2012. Done. Booked.

But wait. No. Not done. Not booked. Because booking over the phone isn’t enough. No. In order to use the free $800 ticket to ANYWHERE IN THE WORLD, I have to BRING IT to the American Airlines counter at J.F.K. Airport and HAND IT to a ticket agent. And did I mention, the counter closes at 10:30 p.m. (it’s now 9:15 p.m.), I’m at least an hour from J.F.K. by subway, my car is in the repair shop, and it’s a holiday weekend, which means everyone and their mother will be on the highway, headed out-of-town.

मदद करो!!!!!! (“Help!” in Hindi)

Which is when Praveen, cool as a cucumber, says, “Don’t worry. I can drive you to J.F.K. I have a Zip car. And it has GPS.”* *(Insert my bad rendition of an Indian accent here.)

I stare at him, eyes melting. “Really? You would do that for me?”

“Of course,” he says, “It’s no trouble. I have GPS.”

At which point I feel EVEN GUILTIER that I CHEATED on Praveen earlier that night by offering him palak paneer that I’d bought that afternoon at a PAKISTANI restaurant! Which just goes to show what a horrible human being I am, and why it’s critical that Praveen NEVER, EVER find out what I did.

Cheating on Praveen at the Pakistani Tea House.

So we get in the car and start driving through the streets of Brooklyn and onto the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway to get to J.F.K. Airport. But suddenly the GPS starts directing Praveen towards Prospect Expressway, which I would NEVER, EVER take to get to J.F.K.

“Praveen, why is the GPS directing us through East New York, one of the most dangerous neighborhoods in Brooklyn, in a completely different direction than I’ve EVER taken in my ENTIRE LIFE to get to J.F.K.?”

“Oh, that’s probably because I programmed it to avoid tolls,” he graciously explains, at which point I internally freak out even more, because now I’m sure we will NEVER, EVER get to J.F.K. on time because the local roods will take FOREVER!!!!!!!

But drive we do, through neighborhoods I completely don’t recognize, until we reach J.F.K., at which point we start madly following signs to the departure gate for American Airlines (the last one, of course), and then I’m dashing, but dashing, to the ticket counter and breathlessly explaining to the woman behind the desk my situation, which causes her to stare at me like I’m a crazy person, until I stop blathering, at which point she says to me, “Well you’re one lucky lady, because if you’d gotten here 10 minutes later, we’d be gone.”

And with that, she processes my reservation and hands me a ticket: London, April 1, 2012. Just like that, Praveen has saved my life. Or at least my $800 ticket.

I rush back to the car. I hug Praveen. We both start laughing, amazed at our (my) good fortune. And then we drive back to my apartment, hardly believing we’ve just been through this whirlwind, three-hour escapade.

And as we lay down in our respective beds, I think to myself, “God, how I love couchsurfing, and how grateful I am to have Praveen briefly in my life. But, more importantly, he must NEVER, EVER find out about that palak paneer!

Don't tell him I cheated!

————————————–

Here’s the dish Praveen made for me during his visit. It was delicious, but because I can’t find vegetable makhanwala mix like the one he BROUGHT OVER from India, I’m providing a substitute that should get you in the ballpark.  

And to show you what an even more awful person I am, this photo is NOT the dish Praveen made for me, because that was so good we ate all of it.  No, this is a similar-looking mixed vegetable plate from the Indian restaurant Taste of Tandoor, located at 149 Church Street in lower Manhattan.  If you want to cheat on your Indian couchsurfer while in New York City, you can also visit Pakistani Tea House, just down the street, at 176 Church Street.

Mixed vegetable plate from Taste of Tandoor.

Recipe: Vegetarian Makhani  (Buttery Vegetable Curry)
Serves: 4
Preparation Time: 30 minutes

Vegetables:
2 1/2 ounces (75 grams) vegetable makhanwala mix if you can find it. If not, try this: Parampara’s Vegetable Jaipuri Mix
15 ounces (425 grams) frozen, defrosted or canned mixed peas and carrots
4 ounces (115 millilitres) milk
1/2 cup (75 grams) red onion, diced
1/4 cup (40 grams) fresh red pepper, diced
2 Tablespoons (30 millilitres) vegetable oil
1 teaspoon (3 grams – 1.5 UK teaspoon)  mustard seeds

Rice:
3 to 4 cups (560 grams) pre-cooked white rice
1/2 cup (75 grams) red onion, diced
2-3 Tablespoons (30-140 millilitres) vegetable oil
3/4 (1.8 grams – 1 teaspoon UK) teaspoon cumin seeds
1/2 teaspoon (1.5 grams – .75 UK teaspoon) mustard seeds

Optional for rice:
1/8 to 1/4 teaspoon red chili powder
1/4 teaspoon fenugreek leaves
1/8 teaspoon asafaotida

Spicy World seems to be a good source for Indian spices if you don’t have an Indian grocery in your town, and you can buy from them directly on Amazon.com.

To prepare vegetables:
1. Place oil in frying pan over medium heat.
2. Add mustard seeds, onion, and red pepper.
3. Add 1 cup (250 millilitres) water and the vegetable makhanwala or jaipuri mix.  Stir to combine.  Continue to cook about 5 minutes.
4. Add peas and carrots.  Add milk.  Stir to combine.
5. Lower heat and allow mixture to simmer, covered, until ready to serve.

To prepare rice:
1. In a frying pan, place oil over medium heat.
2. Add cumin, mustard, and red onion.  Add optional spices.  Stir to combine.
5. Add cooked white rice and stir to combine.  Cook over low heat until warmed.

Serve vegetable makhani on top of spiced rice with naan bread as accompaniment.

Art vs. Food

Person: Deb
Location: Perth, Australia
Food: Chocolate bar

The artist at rest.

Deb makes art, prints to be exact. She came to stay with me on her way to a printmaking residency in Canada she’d won an award to attend. She’d flown more than halfway around the globe for the opportunity. And now, here she was, on my couch, readying herself for the next phase of her career.

Find Your Way - by Deb Taylor

As I recall, she ate little. Food a kind of afterthought. Her attention was elsewhere. To home, where her son was, and the future, where she would soon be able to create without limits.

Tracking and retracking by Deb Taylor

We shared few words, yet something passed between us. An awareness of the other’s presence. The knowing of silence within an enclosed space. Sometimes those who speak the least leave the deepest impression.

Untitled-1

She sent me a link to her artwork recently. Her prints are rich with color and texture. The quiet beauty suggesting, perhaps like her, a wild current beneath a still surface.

Untitled (River 2)

She didn’t bring a recipe, rather a small box of Australian candy bars. They were made of dark chocolate with a cherry interior and covered in coconut. Lamington cakes morphed into alternate form. They were lovely.

For the artist, food is a secondary concern. So long as there’s money for paint and brushes, all is right with the world.

And perhaps, for some, art trumps food as a necessity. The body knowing and the mind sensing the stronger impulse. To create. At any cost. Wherever it takes you. Even if it’s across the globe. To a stranger’s couch.  Being fed never was the point.

Earth

To see more of Deb Taylor’s work, visit her website.


Lost in a Pancake

Person: Martin
Location: Kalmar, Sweden
Recipe: Swedish pancakes with summer fruits

There was no question about it. Martin was lost in a pancake. The dwarf clown, Rainbow, had promised him a ride from San Francisco to Austin, Texas. Only now she was reneging. Something about the weather being off-kilter as predicted through the smoky, glass window of her Magic 8 Ball. A few too many clouds portended a dangerous trek.

He’d found her on Craigslist. Being from Sweden, he figured it was like Couchsurfing, safe and all. But Rainbow was a bipolar midget, 4′ 3″, with short, red hair as bright as a child’s balloon, talking a blue streak and emptying bag after plastic bag from the trunk of her Ford Escort, so they’d have room for other passengers.

At Rainbow’s group house, one of her housemates pulled him aside to set him straight. “She’s whack,” he whispered through a mouth half-covered by dreadlocks. “We all know it. But we put up with her. She pays half the bills.”

Martin was a producer at a theater company. Six months earlier, he’d asked for time off to travel and recharge his creative batteries; perhaps come back with ideas for a new show. That’s how he’d found himself in California, the place where ideas gush forth like geysers from an Icelandic spring.

But as he sank down in the crumb-laden cushion of a futon couch in an apartment in the Mission District to consider his fate (and whether Rainbow could be roused from her cumulonimbus funk), his mind drifted back to Kalmar. It was night. Lights were slowly rising on a stage. A man with a guitar was walking to the center of the stage. After a few moments, the audience began clapping its collective hands in anticipation; a performance was about to begin:

http://www.youtube.com/user/byteatern#p/u/3/cMc0vzcie0s

By the time he came to stay with me in New York though, Rainbow had relented. Maybe she consulted some cards or something; Martin couldn’t be sure. With the car now re-packed, they headed south along Highway 1 to pick up the other passengers. Kids just like him, who hadn’t known what they’d gotten themselves into either.

As they drove past L.A. and across Highway 10 through San Bernadino, Rainbow’s quirks continued. Fearing she’d running out of gas, she’d pull into a gas station whenever the arrow showed the tank half full. Martin wondered if he’d ever make it to Austin, let alone the East Coast.

He closed his eyes and began dreaming of a Swedish TV show from the 1960s, Vilse i Pannkaken (Lost in a Pancake), the one in which an innocent Swedish boy (played by an adult), falls into a giant Swedish pancake, only to find himself in an upside down world from which there’s no escape.

As Rainbow drove, headlong, across Arizona and New Mexico and deep into the heart of Texas, Martin comforted himself with thoughts of Swedish pancakes. The strawberries would be bursting just then and his mother (he could almost see her now as a haze of heat rose from the car’s roof into the clear, blue sky) would be standing at the counter whipping cream, transforming the cold, white liquid into light, airy peaks. Next, she’d take an iron pan and fill it with the golden batter. A few moments later, pleasure. Warm pancakes filled with summer fruit.

He could almost taste it. Like he could taste the dust against his tongue through the open window. Eventually, he’d make it to New York and my apartment. And one night, as we sat together, a harsh rain stirring up the sky, just as Rainbow had predicted, he made me pancakes, and all was right with the world.

Visit the Website of Martin’s theater company, Byteatern: Kalmar Lans Teater.

Recipe: Swedish Pancakes with Summer Fruit

Ingredients:

2 cup whole wheat pastry flour . 254 grams
1 cup whole milk . 200 millilitres
3 large eggs
3/4 teaspoon salt . 4 grams
5 – 6 tablespoons of butter . 84 grams

1/2 pound strawberries . 454 grams
1/2 pint heavy cream . 236 millilitres

Episode I: Strawberries

1. Cut strawberries into small to medium size pieces.
2. Place in saucepan and cook over low to medium heat, stirring to prevent sticking.
3. Allow to soften and warm slightly before placing inside pancakes.
4. Optional: Add honey or maple syrup as desired to sweeten.

Episode 2: Whip Cream:
1. Using hand mixer, whip cream to form stiff peaks.
2. Place in refrigerator until ready to serve.

Episode 3: Pancakes

Add flour to 1 cup milk. Whisk to combine.
2. Add second cup of milk. Whisk again.
3. Add 3/4 teaspoon salt.
4. Add eggs to make a thin batter.
5. Heat 1/2 – 1 tablespoon of butter over medium heat in an iron pan.
6. Spoon 1 tablespoon of batter into pan to form a circle.
7. Cook until the edges turn golden brown, 2 to 3 minutes.
8. Flip with spatula and continue cooking an additional 1 to 2 minutes.
9. Serve warm, filled with fruit and topped with whip cream.

And for music to cook by, check out the band, Pipes You See, Pipes You Don’t’s CD, Lost in the Pancakes:

Christmas in July

With New York City (and much of the U.S.A.) in the middle of a brutal heat wave, we need a little Christmas. Right this very minute! We need a little Christmas now!

And so to help alleviate the heat, the Couchsurfing Cook was inspired to write a song.
It’s sung to the tune of Mel Torme and Bob Wells’ heartwarming 1946 classic, “The Christmas Song” and is sure to put a smile on your otherwise red-cheeked (from the humidity) face.

Now I can’t promise that this song will prevent sweat from dripping down your brow and into your mouth as you stand broiling on a rush-hour subway platform, but perhaps humming it while lying in bed at 3 a.m. with a window fan blowing furiously at your naked body while you curse the used air conditioner you bought last summer on Craigslist (because a couchsurfer broke your new one) that’s so weak you wonder if it’s even worth the electric bill**, will make you feel at least a few degrees cooler.

**This is happening to the CS Cook right now!

With apologies to Mel Torme, the CS Cook presents “The Christmas in July Song”:

Piglets roasting on an open fire.

Piglets roasting on an open fire.

Sausage stinking up your clothes.

Sausage stinking up your clothes.

Ice cream cones, being sold from a truck.

Ice cream cones being sold from a truck.

That song will stop, with any luck.

Everybody knows cannoli and some funnel cake,

Everybody knows cannoli and some funnel cake.

help to make your clothes fit tight.

Help to make your clothes fit tight.

Hyper kids, with their mouths stuffed with sweets,

Hyper kids with their mouths stuffed with sweets.

will find it hard to sleep tonight.

They know more food is on its way.
Like cotton candy spun around as if hairsprayed.

Like cotton candy spun around as if hairsprayed.

And every parent there is gonna cry,
when they learn corn costs five bucks to buy.

When told an ear of corn's five bucks to buy.

And so I’m offering this lemonade.

And so I'm offering this lemonade.

To locals and to tourists too.
Although you’ve been warned many times, many ways,
New York’s summer’ll make you brew.

Stay cool everyone!

Watermelons in red and green Christmas colors.

And for the strangest version of “The Christmas Song” you’re likely to see, click here.

What remains

Envelope

What lies inside?

I found the small, brown envelope, no bigger than a matchbook, buried in the recesses of a sock drawer in my father’s bedroom bureau. The drawer, itself divided into six wooden corridors, each held neatly folded pairs of, respectively, dress or athletic socks. The envelope, along with two others identical to the first, lay in this inauspicious corner for over 40 years, my father its sole protector. Why he’d kept the envelope for so long reflected either his forgetfulness or tenderness, both explanations were plausible. Unfortunately, he was no longer there to resolve the mystery; he’d died within days of my discovering them.

teeth

My first teeth.

He could have easily thrown away the envelope containing my first childhood teeth once I’d graduated college or married or had children of my own. Surely there were other mementos of my youth for him to treasure as he aged – photographs, grade school reports cards, yearbooks, and such. That he saved my teeth could certainly have been an afterthought. And yet, there in his sock drawer, a place he surely accessed daily, it would have been difficult if not impossible to ignore their presence entirely. What memories, I wondered, might he have conjured on the odd occasion when his hand, fumbling for something so quotidian, accidentally happened upon the miniscule package? Did he keep my teeth in close proximity for the express purpose of reminding himself of a more innocent time, before my turbulent adolescence and adult diaspora turned my relationship with him into something far more distant?

Discovering the envelope reminded me of the childhood ritual of placing one’s first, lost teeth beneath a pillow hoping a fairy will bestow a gift of money upon the bearer the next morning, as reward for having endured this first painful act of maturation. What was the origin of this ritual, I wondered? Was it practiced the world over? Or is the Tooth Fairyjust another commercialized, and distinctly American, superhero?

Our teeth are used to eat of course, and the act of eating our first food, absorbing something more substantive than mother’s milk, serves as an important sign of our potential survival past the first still vulnerable years of life. Is the loss of teeth an equally powerful premonition of our eventual death? What would our earliest ancestors have thought of this mysterious transformation from strength to weakness at still so tender an age? Could it be that, just as food and animal sacrifices were given to the gods to assure a good harvest or as plea that winter’s bleak darkness be transformed into spring’s renewal, that the loss of a child’s teeth necessitated prayers in hopes that the youth would survive her own early seasons? When a new tooth then emerged, (pushing forth with the same urgency as the mother during childbirth or the plant bursting through frozen ground), what relief there must have been for the adults, a vindication of prayer, or at least the continuation of life’s progress.

I took the envelope containing my teeth gingerly out of the drawer and distributed the two remaining ones to my brothers. But what would I do with a set of my own childhood teeth? What purpose did they serve now that my father was gone? Or would they, like him, need to be similarly set free, along with his shoes and clothes and socks, the accessories of a life no longer requiring objects to confirm its existence.

dad

Dad and me and my brother.

__________________

* I wrote about my last trip to visit my father when he became ill here. He died on June 27, 2011. He was 79 years old and was surrounded by his family in the last few days of his life.

__________________

Click here to learn the true origin of the Tooth Fairy myth.

Can’t We All Just Eat in Peace?

This past Monday was July 4th. So Liz, Ben, Petter (from Sweden, ergo the spelling), and I decided to celebrate the all-American holiday by taking a road trip (by bike, of course, being the eco-friendly Brooklynites and Scandinavians that we are) to explore our neighbor to the north. No, not Canada. A much more foreign place: Queens.

Where the heck is it??

Upon crossing the border, through the scary transition zone known as The Evergreens Cemetery (the final resting place of Bill “Bojangles” Robinson, Lester Young, Isaac Asimov, and Walt Kelly of Pogo fame, among others), we encountered a native of this unfamiliar land, a lovely man selling fruit and sundry products.

Welcome Brooklyn strangers!

Wanting to appear natural in our newly adopted country, we decided to expand our oh-so-sophisticated Brooklyn tastebuds by trying foods we’d never had before, including:

Tiger Tonic

Good fer what ails ye.

Tamarind and Cassava Bread

Two new discoveries.

and Aloe Vera juice, una bebida inteligente (an intelligent drink).

Green is good.

But what surprised us most was a fruit we’d never encountered on the shelves of our local Trader Joe’s called quenepa or honeyberry. According to our new friend, you peel, pop, and suck the green darlings to savor their sweet-ish, gelatinous interior (but avoid the big pit!). All we could say as we peddled off was, “Viva la Queens!”

So happy, he's leaving Sweden.

From there we wended our way through the pine-filled woods of Forest Park, the unexpected mansions of Kew Gardens, and the iconic World’s Fair landmarks in Corona Park and Flushing Meadows.

And it was there (before getting on the subway because we were bone tired at this point), that we saw what makes America truly great: families celebrating July 4th. Among them:

Afghanis

Chicken kebabs on skewers.

Pakistanis

Grilled steak and chicken tikka.

and Mexicans and El Salvadorans.

Elotes on the grill.

That’s right, all the people who supposedly hate us or are here to undermine our way of life, happily honoring American independence in our public parks.

Makes ya’ think, don’t it?

Perhaps the world would be a better place if we could all just, as my mother might say, eat in peace.

And "You Go, Queens!"

With special thanks to Petter Bertilsson for providing the camera and taking many of the photos for this issue!

Food During Wartime

Location: Sperwan Ghar, Kandahar province, Afghanistan
Person: Mitch
Recipe: Water

I’m not sure why I agreed to let Mitch couchsurf with me. He was a little younger than my preferred age and, based on what he’d written, his cooking skills seemed questionable, despite having a mom who worked in the restaurant business. Mostly I was interested in the fact that he was Canadian, and since I’d planned to go maple syruping soon, thought that hosting a guy from Montreal around the same time might make for a funny post.

I hadn’t realized he was in the army and that he’d done two tours in Afghanistan. I was fascinated and asked him to tell me about his experience there.

He did. ___________________________________________________________________________________

From emails sent to Mitch’s friends and family back home:

where do I begin. Saturday December 8th my section wakes up at 01:30 we get all our gear on. frag vest, tactical vest, helmet, kneepads, rifle, night vision goggles, rucksack with jacket, 24 hour rations, 5 liters of water, ranger blanket, beef jerky, vise grip attached to 30feet of string, 8 electric detonators, 4 non electric detonators with time fuse, one wall breaching charge consisting of 6 blocks of c-4, 2 x one block c-4 charges, gunshot residue test kit and other various small pieces of kit. altogether it all probly weighed approximately 80-90lbs of kit.

our task was to go in 2-3 man teams of Breachers and be attached to a section of British royal Gurka regiment infantry soldiers. the Gurkas are actually Nepalese soldiers that join the British army to get good wages and British citizenship. every year approximately 30000 people from Nepal apply but they only take 250. these guys walk around with like 100+ lbs rucksacks for weeks at a time. so basically there some of the toughest troops in the world.

we stepped off the line of departure around 03:30 (we were supposed to leave at 03:00 but the Afghan national army always take their time getting ready. it was pretty cold probably around 1 degree. our objective was approximately 3-4 kilometers and we were going to take one of the most direct routes possible which meant thru grape and marijuana fields over walls and thru little villages. it was a brutally hard walk in the dark over very uneven terrain.

as sun rose we had to stop for about 15 minutes to wait for the ANA to do there morning prayers we stopped about 300 meters from our first objective.

when we arrived at the first of our objectives it was around 07:00 and we started hearing small arms and machine gun fire in the distance and then massive thumping sounds followed by the scream of an artillery shell flying overhead down range to its target. the battle had begun in the south with the Canadian Van-doo company.

as the Gurkas and ANA started searching we got the word we needed to breach some doors. the first lock we got to was too big to use the shotgun on plus it was a steel door(high risk of ricochet). we discussed it and decided to use a 1/4 block of c-4, I think it was a bit too much cause it bent the door in half fucked it up good style. then we started breaching the rest of the doors with the shotgun. one of the buildings we blew the locks off of was a medical facility which sucked but we reimburse people for the damage.

In one of the compounds they found some Constantina wire (razor wire) and on the other side of the compound the other engineer team found a pressure plate connected to Det cable, some empty jugs and what looks to be homemade explosives. we completed the search of the compound and area by around 11:00.

As we moved to our second objective the gunfire and explosions from artillery and close air support started sounding closer and closer. during one of our crossings of a wadi (water stream) it was pretty muddy on the opposite side of the bank and Kayla was slipping and sliding trying to get up the top so I figured I should just try and jump to the other side over the muddy bank. Well the second I hit the other side all the weight and momentum slammed my ass face first into the dirt which hurt quite exceptionally.

around 13:00 we reached police substation Hajji which was built by my troop earlier in the tour and is in the heart of the worst Taliban area in Kandahar province. It took them 8 hours under enemy contact to reach before they even got started construction. this place gets attacked by the Taliban on average twice a day. we call it the wild west because there have been a lot of running gun battles in that area one of the reasons for this operation.

We took lunch on the outside of the compound with the infantry in the towers doing over watch. at this point we got an opportunity to talk with the Gurkas who are quite funny and friendly guys. they told us about their trip to Wainwright in 2004 to do a training exercise and they thought it was the coldest place on earth, the funny thing is they were there in the spring. they all got a week of leave to do whatever they wanted and did some adventure tours everything from skydiving to river rafting. they really enjoyed the strip clubs and bars and all had a very high opinion of Canada. one of them it was their first exercise since joining the Gurkas and said he paid pretty badly.

Gurkas

after relaxing after lunch, we were waiting for the word to continue advancing. on our path to our last objective which was the market area we had to pass over some trip flares (trip wire attached to a flare) we were all told not to set it off so the Gurkas and us all took care to step over it but once the ANA started to pass it one of them set it off. the ANA are pretty interesting guys they will fight like bastards but a lot of them are clueless with a lot of things they like to smoke pot before they go on operation.

as we were walking we encountered a pot farmer who was telling us he hates the Taliban and stuff because they come to his home and take whatever they want. he was hoping that we would bring more security to the area. as we were walking thru the fields we started to hear a lot of machine gun fire probably no farther than 300 meters from our position. we got into location and over the net came word that there was 5 Taliban seen in the area with rocket propelled grenades.

the Gurkas set up a fire base which also had a sniper and there mortar team. at this point bullets were flying all over the place and the firebase let loose on the Taliban at this point I was laying against a wall and fell asleep for about 5 minutes or so I think I was pretty exhausted I was awoken by an A-10 thunderbolt flying overhead and raining hell down on the Taliban’s position followed by a lot of rounds from the tankers.

during all this the Gurkas caught a man in the area that was identified as Taliban. they brought him over to the ANA soldiers and the man was visibly shaking. the Gurka officer requested that we go over and do a gunshot residue test on him. the results were negative but it doesn’t test to show if he has shot a rocket. so the ANA detained him we went back to our positions in the line and waited for further orders. during the time we went to go sit down the ANA started whacking the guy with a tree branch and pulling his beard and stuff until one of the Gurkas went over to them and told them to cut it out. later on I was talking to that Gurka and he told me they would probably have killed the guy if we were not there.

after the fighting died down we got the go to clear the rest of the market. we showed the Gurkas how to use the shotgun and let them breach a few doors. the guy doing it was having a lot of fun but then the shotgun jammed so we took over again and between Kayla me and the chief we went thru about 30 shells and a half block of c-4 to get thru the market.

over the net we got word that one of the tanks had shot to close to a group of friendly soldiers lightly injuring a Canadian and two afghan soldiers. at this point it came down that we were finished advancing, and we were to re-muster and make our way back to the fob we were to leave at last light.

at this point I was really, really tired I had only taken my back pack off maybe 3 or 4 times thru the whole day and my whole body was really feeling it. while marching out we linked up with the rest of the Gurka company and our engineers. the walk out was somewhere around 4 kilometers but I was running low on water (at this point I had drank about 5 liters of water and was sweating quite heavily). the Gurkas gave me two more bottles of water and we were on our way.

at about 18:30 our company came across some a group of young Afghan males. my Det got called up to go do the explosive residue test and gunshot residue test on them. we tested one of them and the interpreter told us that they had just come back from there evening prayer at the mosque, the tests came up negative, so at that point we let them go and were back on our way. moving at night with approximately 250 people in a line is not as easy as it look in pitch black darkness we had to stop every 10 minutes to make sure everyone was still in the line not to mention everyone was getting really tired.

by the time we seen the silhouette of Sperwan Ghar I had completely ran out of water but knew we were close so I just said fuck it and kept moving. well let me tell you that was probably the longest hour of my life all I could taste was the dust that the line was kicking up as they walked towards the mountain. I was praying to god that we didn’t come into contact because I was so physically exhausted. as we got to the road and started to walk thru the front gate and pass the guard tower I have never felt more relief in my life. I moved as fast as I still could towards our living quarters. I was dropping my gear once I was within 15 feet of the door got to the fridge and grabbed the first drink I seen and consumed it quite furiously.

In all we walked for approximately 18 hours while breaching and clearing buildings with a full load of kit. it was the most physically and mentally demanding day of my life. I don’t think I will ever forget this day and just thought I would write this note so you all would have a better idea of what I’m doing over here. I have to get going to bed it’s like 11:00 and I have another long ass day tomorrow.

Sperwan Ghar, Kandahar province
Afghanistan

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This has been a hard month for me physically and mentally. Our troop was tasked to build a strongpoint in the middle of really bad Taliban country, I can’t say where or exactly what or why because of operational security. anyways we left for the strongpoint’s location at about 0200 on January 4th. it was a long trip on a route that is quite rough but we never travel so a lot safer.

At approximately 0500 it started to rain which it hasn’t done much since I been here, maybe 2 days since I arrived here October first. We were to dismount and walk to the site where they wanted the strongpoint built, criss-crossing thru farmers fields in about a foot of mud we arrived at our destination just at first light around 0630.

The site was along one of the main road arteries for movement of the population, and cuts right thru Taliban country. the road is so littered with IEDs no one travels this road without a lot of engineers to clear it of mines and IEDs. Probably the last time it was traveled down this far was when the last rotation from Gagetown was here last year.

we formed an all around defense with the vehicles and waited for word to start building at this time it was raining quite hard and the ground was absolute shit mud everywhere, it looked more like Wainwright then Afghanistan. while we were waiting on the final go ahead to build we went and did some patrols with the infantry searching for weapons and explosives. we didn’t find much and the population of the village did not seem to threatening to us so those went smoothly as a patrol does.

on the January sixth we were given the go ahead to start building which was going to be a lot more difficult due to the muddy terrain. as we assembled the observation points and the Hesco bastion walls the time passed really fast but because of the shitty ground the nights were quite uncomfortable on the night of the sixth it started snowing and it was an absolutely freezing wet cold. when we finished construction we moved our troop into the two sea cans that the observation posts were constructed on. that didn’t last long though because the sea cans got repossessed by the infantry officers. It only took us two days to build the strongpoint but we had a lot of help from the infantry.

on the night of the 8th we had to move from sea cans just outside the walls of the strong point, we got the badger to flatten some ground for us for us to put our tarps between our two vehicles. the badger parked next to us but about 3 meters from our tent. at around 0750 I went out and took a piss behind the badger walked back into the tent and laid on my cot about 3 minutes later an large scream flash and massive explosion happened right beside our tent filling it with dust. I jumped from my bed put on my Frag vest and helmet grabbed my bag with my clothes and jumped into our T-LAV. at this point we checked for everyone was ok then I looked up and noticed that the tarp on the top of the badger that the badger crew sleep under was all fucked up.

I exclaimed something like “OH FUCK THE BADGER!” jumped up and ran to see if anyone was on top of it that’s when is seen the sleeping bag of one of the crew I grabbed it and felt a hot piece of shrapnel on top of it and then I grabbed his foot (I’m not going to say his name because some of you might know him but you probably already know about it if you do know him.) my master corporal jumped on top and told me to go call a medic. I yelled at the top of my lungs “MEDIC, MEDIC!!) at this point the two Tactical combat casualty course (TCCC) qualified guys from my section Sap. Clark and Cpl Rochon grabbed there TCCC medic pouches and jumped on top of the vehicle. I then seen a warrant officer and a guy with a medic bag running towards our location and I grabbed the medic and brought him the badger at this time Sap. Pittman and another TCCC guy were on top giving first aid. he was breathing on his own but he had a massive wound to his face and was missing part of his jaw. the crew of the badgers sleep on stretchers so he was already on one when they took him off the top of the vehicle and got him to the medical tent to await an air medi-vac. afterward our whole section got into our tracked light armored video (T-LAV) and no one really said anything to anyone everyone’s face was grim and sad and the mood was very sullen.

when we finally returned to one of our forward operating bases for a much needed shower and hot meal. we were all terribly dirty and didn’t have much in the way of clean cloths. I went and used the internet for a bit and sent a few messages letting people know I was still kicking it. went in the mess and made myself a soup and an improvised grilled cheese sandwich using some stale bread and some cheeze whiz not exactly like home but better than nothing.

we departed back for the strongpoint the next morning at first light with some warm food in our bellies and a good shower we were ready to take on anything. our convoy was large and was big enough to supply 3 police sub stations and the strongpoint we had just built. at approximately 1000 hours the 3rd vehicle in the order of march exploded with one of the largest IEDs I have seen yet. our driver immediately dropped our ramp and my section ran to the scene to secure the location. sapper Clark and myself were instructed to jump on the vehicles and treat the wounded. I had a sick feeling in my stomach before Clark opened the door praying that the guys inside would be ok. to my relief they all escaped with minor injuries, but the vehicle was a mobility kill which means that it couldn’t drive on its own power.

it was decided that we would spend the night at the closest checkpoint and continue on in the morning. this time though we would have more soldiers dismounted to visually check the route our section was picked and we got on our way. its kind of hard to explain the feeling of walking on a road that you know is most likely mined or booby trapped but it’s a little unnerving to say the least. you feel exposed and basically at the mercy of the bomb makers and hope they skipped a step and made a dud that won’t function or that we find the bomb before it has a chance to hurt anyone.

well we missed one and next thing we know a vehicle about a kilometer behind us exploded, as one of the people checking the road I felt absolutely terrible because we missed something and someone could be dead because of that, but once again the vehicle that the soldiers were traveling in survived the blast but was once again a mobility kill. I have to hand it to those Germans they build sturdy tanks it barely had a scratch.

when we finally got the strongpoint everyone was a little shaken up but moral was high. we stayed for a few nights at the strong point and then the orders came down to use the exact same road that had claimed two of our vehicles in the two previous days and that we were to be extremely vigilant in our searching for IEDs. the day started off slow and we had to stop for about an hour and a half because one of the vehicles got stuck and when they went to pull it out they didn’t hook up the lift points or used to much power and ripped the front end off the vehicle so we had to wait for them to put it on a flatbed truck for transport to a mechanic. the day was extremely cold sitting around waiting, then it started to snow and seeing that it had been raining for the better part of 10 days there was huge puddles on the road. my feet were soaking wet and really uncomfortable but the rest of me was dry because of the awesome gortex rain suit we were issued here.

we were about 700 meters away from our second checkpoint when an explosion happened about 60 meters behind me this time they hit another large vehicle and again no serious injuries at this point we were all like what the fuck is going on we made it to our checkpoint and were told to halt for the day. all the dismounted guys from my section jumped in the back of our T-LAV and got the driver to crank the heat and we started to dry off our socks and gloves as best we could. all of a sudden people started jumping in the vehicles and getting ready to leave in the same direction we had just came I was totally confused then we got word that another vehicle had hit an IED and that the rest of the convoy had to turn around and head back the way they came. this was getting to be too much I had just walked down this road twice and seen fuck all it was very frustrating. the worst part of it all is that one of the people in my section was in the convoy that had to turn around and all her kit was on our truck so she was stuck out at the strong point with nothing no toiletries, no sleeping bag, no change of clothes and worst of all she isn’t with us and we were still going to push towards the FOB.

Waking up the next morning I realized we were not getting in a rush to move anywhere and we were told we could sleep late because there was no timings for the day. I laid in my sleeping bag and watch as it snowed outside our tent.

when I finally got the courage up to brave the cold and get out of my warm sleeping bag it must have been like 1000 hours January 17th we started to work on our tent and we went and got some firewood and a guy in my section went across the street and bought a barrel off the locals to use as a burn barrel to heat up our tent we made some air holes and cut a hole in the top. We then dug a hole about a foot and a half in the ground and put the barrel in it got the wood and started it up. Everyone took off their wet boots and put it beside the barrel to try and dry them up and it was mighty hot so it started to work quite quickly. So quickly in fact it melted a plastic on the side of my master corporals boot where the lace holes are it was pretty funny.

around 1400 word came down that we were to move on a route that was most likely IED’ed but the plan was a lot different from our normal course of action and it was on a different route I can’t say the details but as we were pushing away from the checkpoint we didn’t even go a kilometer before we found an IED. because we were pressed for time they blew it in place rather quickly and we moved on. when they figured it was safe we mounted our vehicles and pushed towards the FOBs. we made it back without incident but I felt just terrible knowing that Kayla was all alone out at the strongpoint with some people that she doesn’t know with no kit and we were destined to be

eating hot dinner and having a shower I felt so bad I couldn’t stop thinking about it. she’s a tough gal but she was really looking forward to having a shower and cleaning her cloths and stuff. I decided that I would do all her laundry and clean all her kit so when she does get back here she can just relax without having to do any work I know she’s going to be in a bad mood I would feel like shit to be in her position.

anyways shit happens and I got to go eat some supper.

Recipe: Water

Ingredients: Your imagination

1. Imagine that you are without a sink and faucet and have no spigots neatly labelled hot and cold.

2. Pretend you have to fetch water from a well that is miles from your home.

3. Visualize walking that distance as a daily activity and the time it takes to travel those miles in all kinds of weather, sometimes with shoes whose soles are worn so that you can feel the earth beneath your feet.

4. Picture that, as you walk, you need to pay close attention to landmines, gunfire, and dangerous people lurking in shadows who could harm you.

5. Feel what it’s like to finally arrive at the well and begin hauling up water from the earth’s depths.

6. Hear the sound the water makes sloshing in the bucket, as you lift it towards the sky.

7. Notice how your arms feel as you pull hard on the now-heavy rope.

8. Begin to carry the water back home, walking as slowly and carefully as you can so as not to spill a drop.

9. Upon arriving safely at home, take a metal cup and dip it into the bucket to fill it with water.

10. Quench your thirst, and taste water, as if for the first time.