Caught with my pants down

In case you've ever wondered what you would do if you got caught with your pants down... let me give you the answer. But first, there is some background required, so bear with me a second.

We live in what are called "Containerized Living Units." The CLUs are sea/land shipping containers sightly retrofitted to be livable. By sea/land container, I mean the Corrugated tin Maersk rectangular boxes you see at ports, on ships and passing by on trains. They're 32 feet long and 7 feet wide, divided in half. There are two people living in each side. This means that Nikki and I share a 17 by 7 space filled with two beds, four wall lockers, a small desk and two chairs. Essentially, I have about 11 inches of personal space in my CLU when all is said and done. I have less room than my cousin's ex-husband had when he was serving time in the Tehachapi State Prison - and HE got time off for good behavior!

Now, I'm blessed to have Nikki as my CLU-mate. She is my age, my rank, a single mom, she's clean, she's polite. It's great! And we have a system... whoever gets home second knocks before we open the door just to alert the other - just a little courtesy right?

So last week, I get back from work first. I walk to the back of the CLU to get out of my uniform. I have my clothes in my hand, I have set my things on my bed. I'm very obviously in MY CLU. So there I am, left hand on the wall, right foot on the floor, left foot raised, pants around my ankles half bent over trying to pull my pant leg off. And WHAM - my door swings WIDE open. I freeze. I can't move... I'm stunned and confused. There, standing at my door is Pat from SNL - I wasn't sure if it was a man or a woman. He/she looks at me, swings the door closed to look at the "address" and then swings it back open. I'm still frozen... Again, he/she swings the door closed to look at the number and make sure it's MY CLU. And now I'm starting to doubt myself. Sure, it's my pink sheets on the bed and my fluffy towel on the hook. It's even my clothes in my hand. But I'm seriously starting to think that maybe I am in someone else's CLU. That's how surreal this is.

Now, after take two of the door check I realize it's a woman who needs to either fire her hair dresser or purchase a mirror from Drugstore.com and I'm starting to think about what "high maintenance female" tips I might be able to lend her to transition her from the "Pat" look into something a little less 1980 and a little more 2008. But then she COMES IN and shuts the door! She stands in the doorway of my house (yes, I'm still half naked, white hiney in the air, hand on the wall) and says "Wow, I guess I'm in the wrong unit..." and then, as abruptly as she appeared, she left. Just like that - gone.

I now know the answer to what I'd ever say if I got caught with my pants down... Not a damn thing people; not a damn thing!

This kind of stuff doesn't happen to other people, does it?

For less than $1, you can feed...ME!

Did you know there are currently people starving in Africa? Okay, maybe not starving, but there are (white) people in Africa who just aren't gettin the good stuff folks. I know, I know, sad but true.

But YOU can help. From right there in your own town. You can choose to sponsor today's featured "Starving American in Africa" with our "Send the Junk Food" program. Yes, for less than $1 a day, you can make all our junk food dreams come true.

Here's how "Send the Junk Food" program works... One trip to your local Piggly Wiggly is all you need (for those of you in Calif., a PW is a grocery store, but I'd prefer you go to Smiths....). Once there, hit up the cookie/cake/cracker aisle. It's just that simple...

Here's what Starving Americans in Africa need. Hostess! Not Little Debbies
(although Entamins might work...) Hostess - namely Ding Dongs and cupcakes but SAIA will eat anything short of those horrid pink SnoBall disasters that should have been banned shortly after Red Dye No. 7 was banished. And, if you're in the Northeasten U.S., the BEST choice would be Tastee Kakes with their Coffee Cake goodness. Mmmmm.... Tastee Kakes!

The next is a tricky one - ROASTED GARLIC Triscuits and EZ Cheese. (EX Cheese is spray cheese in a can....) Regular SAIA Gold Star donors have run into a supply shortage. It seems that Roasted Garlic Triscuits aren't as easy to come by as they once were. So if you happen to see a box, grab it now while supplies last.

And last, but this one isn't easy either, there is an urgent need for Chewy Runts. Not regular Runts, which are easy to find and honestly a disgusting candy, but the illusive yet coveted Chewy Runts. The SAIA safe house is at a zero balance and the clock is ticking!

If you would like to help a Starving American in Africa but participating in the "Send the Junk Food" program, please send your donations (food product only, no cash) to:

Tech Sgt Katherine Garcia
CJTF-HOA/PAO
FPO AE 09363

The Americans in Africa love you for it!

What the H#LL am I doing???

Have you ever had a moment in your life where you stopped, considered your surroundings and had to ask yourself "What the H#LL am I doing here?!?" Well, I did!!!!

We just took a trip to Uganda and Ethiopia and had an incredible time. We started out in southern Uganda at military to military training. There was a Uganda People's Defence Force soldier who ran the U.S. Army PT test (two miles) in 10:39 - BAREFOOT! And the guy who came in second ran it in 11 minutes flat - in FLIP FLOPS! These people can run!

Once we left there, we took a seven hour car ride on the highway of death to northern Uganda. We were roughly 30 km from the Sudan border, which I thought was pretty cool. We were up there for a veterinary civil action program. I will post the stories from the VetCap soon so you can read about some of the pretty cool things we're doing out here. This is actually a project I believe in.

I'm too ADHD to just sit and watch ANYTHING in life, so on day 1, I told the Army vets that I wanted to get involved. Thank God for Maj. Nina DiPinto - she told me to grab a needle and jump right in. By mid-morning, Cindy and I had learned how to age calves and goats, give shots (some on the rump, some in the neck), how to give the deworming "drench" and how to soak the skin to get rid of ticks. We treated cows, goats, sheep, pigs, dogs (and Cindy got a monkey on a leash too!)

At some point in the middle of the second afternoon, I realized that I was in a field in the middle of Uganda, wading through cow patties to wrestle a calf to the ground when it hit me - What The H#LL Am I Doing Here?!? Don't get me wrong - I had a BLAST! Fourteen years ago when I joined the Air Force, no one could have convinced me that this is where I'd be today. Even as I was there, I really couldn't believe it was happening.

But in typical Kati fashion, I did manage to elicit smiles from the locals - again at my own expense! So here we are, halfway through day 2 and a farmer tells the vets one of his cows is sick. Turns out this poor animal has a softball sized cyst on his rear flank. They need to drain it. This is the point where we all need to remember that I'm the southern California blonde girl. I didn't grow up on a farm and I believe that happy cheese comes from happy cows that I see while driving down the 60 to my grandparents' house. I had no idea what "draining a cyst" might entail. Yeah... I won't scar your mind's eye with the details. I will just fast forward to the part of the story where the smell hits me. It was a stench that I can't even being to describe (be thankful for that!)

Next thing I know, I'm on my knees in the grass giving back to the Earth the meager breakfast I had consumed hours before. This doesn't bother me so much... I've always had a weak stomach and I'm not new to the regurgitation game. What DID bother me was what comes next.

I look over to my right and see a cluster of local village women. And they're LAUGHING. Yes, they're pointing, laughing and mocking me. These are women who have never thought to don a bra, keep their babies strapped to their backs and gaily walk barefoot through cow sh!t all day long and THEY'RE LAUGHING AT ME!!!!

So I did the only thing I could do at that point... I rinsed my mouth, smiled, waved for the crowd and went back to work... once again wondering "What The H#LL Am I Doing Here?!?"

3 (stupid) white people and some monkeys

Cliches are cliches for a reason... They're trite, but they usually express a popular or common thought or one that as lost it's originality.

So... Cindy, JT and I became a cliche in Uganda. In every scary movie from the 1990s, the stupid white people were the cliche. You know the scene - two couples pull up to a house in the woods. There is no power. Couple one sneaks off for a quick romp, boy two heads outside (alone) to get wood for a fire and the girl (always a blonde) heads up to take shower. And everyone is yelling at the screen - "NO white people... don't do it. You'll die!!!!" Well, we weren't THAT bad, but we were close.

Now, one of our hotels in Uganda was on the shores of Lake Victoria (we'll get to that later) and they have monkeys all over the grounds. The signs are large - red and white, albeit misspelled - and clearly state "Do Not Feed or Play With The Monkies." We saw the signs... we even photographed one. But they're MONKEYS!!! And how can you resist?

So we head for the bar, grab a beer and walk down to "watch" the monkeys. But we're not close enough. We have to get closer (cue the Stupid White People music). So we sit and watch the monkeys for a while and then walk through them to a get a better view of the lake. No problems. And then we head back, and have to walk straight through them to get back to the building. This is where the problems start... Monkeys on the left, monkeys on the right. And then they start to hiss and charge. Cindy and I run away from each other, cross back in front of each other, and then STOP and literally cling to each other (maybe if we're BIGGER, the monkeys will be scared!) and freeze. JT takes off in the other direction and gets surrounded. Now we're panicked and at least two of us (I'll let you guess which two) are screaming like little girls.

This is where the locals (who have been watching the Stupid White People from afar) come to our rescue. A janitor of sorts simply steps in, hollers one word at the monkeys and off they go. Seems they were much more scared of him than we were of them!

As we scurried off to our table for dinner, we turned around to see a group of hotel employees having quite a laugh at our expense. And that's when it hit me - we became their walking, talking white people cliche!

That's typical Kati - bringing smiles to people all around the world... even when it's at my own expense!

Oh oh... Lake Victoria. It's gorgeous! It's huge and looks like an ocean. It has small waves, an island - - - and it's toxic. We were warned by 100 different sources to stay off the shores. It seems that around 1972, Idi Amin launched a campaign of persecution, murdering between 100,000 and 500,000 (most sources say 300,000) people. He ordered their bodies dumped into Lake Victoria and the Nile. These bodies turned the underwater graveyard into a freshwater source of such yummy diseases as Hep C and the Marburgvirus. As depressing as this was to hear, it was still incredible to be at a place that has such a profound history for an entire continent.

Pimpin ain't easy...

It's true... No matter where you are, no matter what the conditions - pimpin AIN'T easy. Haha!

This picture was taken yesterday in Dammerjog, Djibouti. The trains here are used for people-transport. This is like the Amtrak of Djibouti. People jump on moving trains, they sit on the top, they hang off the back, they pile in the box cars. It's insane. But I've learned something in my travels - - - in EVERY community in the world, there is one person who chose buying a pimp hat over buying a mirror.

Check out that hat! And look at his stance. NO ONE here stands up straight. But this guy? He's ALL over it. Pimp hat. Pimp stance. If I had to caption this photo, I'd just assume that Mr. P-I-M-P was getting ready to shake down the man in white. But hey, that's just me!

(Photo courtesy of Air Force photographer extraordinaire J.T. Lock - proof that one pimp will ALWAYS recognize another!)

Musings from the front

Things here have been hectic but good. I will be traveling to Uganda and then Kenya and will be out of touch for the first three weeks of April... But remember the rule - no news is good news.

Last night was my first English Discussion Group. It was an amazing experience and one I plan to take part in often! We went to a one-room school house (literally) that was packed with people.

This group was mostly males between 16 and 24, but there were a handful of women as well. The students pick the topics (last night was health and how their country can develop) and then we talk conversationally, writing key words on a board in the front and letting them (kindly) correct each other.

I was moved by how passionate they are about life. They see the situation they're in and know they want better. And they are working so hard to better their lives. They listen to Voice of America radio just to learn more conversational English and enjoy the weekly exchanges they get with actual Americans.

I received my first care package on Sunday! It was, and I quote, "enough pesticides to conduct a bug holocaust on all my areas..." but it was wonderful to receive mail (thank you Scotty!) from home. Now I just need someone willing to send me a Swiffer Wet Jet to clean my CLU (it is NOT an apartment!) so that maybe I don't be afraid to take my shoes off at the end of the day. I tried to order one on drugstore.com but they won't ship to an FPO for that item. Hmmmm... Go figure. I have the Wet Jet liquid and plenty of pads here. They shipped THOSE. But they won't ship the actual apparatus.

On to much more somber news... We lost a Marine on Easter Sunday. LCpl Dustin Canham was 22 years old and he and his wife were married just 5 months ago. I can not imagine the agony his family must feel knowing that they will never see their loved one again. And somehow, it seems to me that receiving the news on Easter is a double blow. So I ask that tonight and every night you keep the Canhams and all of America's service members and their families in your prayers.

Snorkeling off the coast of Africa

Well, the powers that be at Camp Lemonier* decided the perfect way for 1,800 adults to celebrate Easter was to have the Easter Bunny make an appearance. Because, really, what better way is there to remind us all that we're away from our children for yet another holiday? But really, that's not the point of today's blog...

If there is a way to turn a deployment supporting the Global War on Terror into a sightseeing trip, you all know I'll find it. I did not fly all this way (and survive a rather rough cop-and-feel session with TSA) to not SEE Africa while I was in Africa.

Yesterday was my first day off since before leaving Little Rock. A group of five of us jumped on an MWR-sponsored trip to Moucha Island (a small island off the coast of Djibouti). And it was amazing. On the boat-ride out, we even saw dolphins (yes Amanda, even the dolphins are black in Africa).

We stole some ice from the chow hall, brought a cooler and some music, packed a few towels and we were set. Amanda (our legal council), Cindy (the resident videographer), JT (combat camera and the 2007 Air Force photographer of the year!), Ian (my photojournalist) and myself made up the motley crew. And a perfect crew it was. There was no drama - no bickering, no fights, no temper tantrums. Just sun, sand, and smiles. If I didn't look too closely at my surroundings, I could have been on a beach anywhere - Cabo, Tahiti, Pensacola.

I learned to swim when I was 5 and I don't think I was much older than 7 when my dad first taught me to snorkel. That is something I am very grateful for. We spent $6 a piece to rent rather new snorkel equipment and off we went. As the tide went out, we were no more than 5 feet above the reefs at points. We saw a baby stingray, a giant clam, eels, and every fish you can imagine. It was like swimming through the saltwater tank in your dentist's office. (Not MY dentist's office though, because my dentist currently operates out of a tent just down the gravel path from my office.) There were schools of silverfish and angel fish of every size.

Being that this island is located on the surface of the sun, sunblock was a necessity. I wouldn't describe my skin as translucent, but I will say that I might have glowed under a black light before yesterday's adventure. I applied the SPF 30 diligently - every 30 minutes. I used one full bottle. And it was new. But still.... I got color. I'm tan in most places now, but there are some spots (like the tops of my feet!!!!) that didn't fare as well. But I'll take it - because I can now say I snorkeled off the coast of Eastern Africa. And really, how many people do we know that can say that?

My goal while I'm here is to work hard and play hard. I focus on the mission, but given the chance, I am going to see every thing that there is to see. I refuse to turn down an opportunity to leave this camp - even if it's to visit the Somalia Refugee Camps that border our base. I figure (and hope) that I will never been back to Africa, so I plan to see it all this time around.

Next stop - Uganda. I will be sure to take a lot of photos while we're down there (It's me, Cindy and JT for that trip) and I hope to be able to post some of the articles I'll be doing on our missions out there. Next month I'll be in Kenya as well. So there is a lot of travel ahead. I'll keep you all posted as the time goes on.

* Camp Lemonier is my home for these 6 months. It's pronounced "Lemonade" but without the D and with an obnoxious French accent.