The Dreamers are descendants of people who “took land from the Indians” as well. I find it hilarious that most people including many of them are too ignorant to recognize this basic fact.
The hatred and vitriol directed towards homosexuals and immigrants from Latin America is a stain upon the fabric of American Society today. This same venom that was once directed at the Natives, Irish, Black people, Chinese and Japanese Immigrants darkens the soul of every American who does not speak out against it.
The War on Drugs is a war on American Liberty. As is the War on Terror. These are threats fabricated by the American Federal Government that are being used to erode our liberties.
Where is the America of the Revolution? Where is the America of the Statue of Liberty? When did we lose our attachments to the spirit of the Declaration of Independence and the “pursuit of happiness” and become a nation in pursuit of security from fabricated threats.
We send our troops around the world to liberate the peoples of other nations while we ignore, shun and sow hate against our neighbors.
America! We are a nation of immigrants. We were once the Champion of the oppressed. What has happened?
“I would rather be exposed to the inconveniences attending too much liberty than to those attending too small a degree of it.”
All the problems we face in the United States today can be traced to an unenlightened immigration policy on the part of the American Indian.
I had to run over to Camp Arena today to get the cap placed back on my tooth. Damn thing came off last night while I was eating. Camp Arena is the ISAF base at the Airport. The Spanish run the Hospital there. The Army gave me and two other guys a ride over for our dental appointments. The Spanish Docs were all pretty cool. Spaniards whom I have met over here are all pretty laid back. While we were waiting, two of the Docs walked out to have a smoke. I joined them. The both were intrigued by my smokes. Djarum Black Cappuccino. [thanx, Sis] They kept saying “cappuccino” and telling me that my smokes smelled like pipe or cigar tobacco. So I gave them a couple of my smokes. They were pretty appreciative. I think I made a couple of friends.
When I walked up to the Hospital, waiting outside in the “waiting room” were several Afghanis. The women all seemed to be dressed pretty upscale for Afghans. Very nice clothing. They had pulled up their burqas. The children were well behaved and very clean. Not the normal inch of 6 month old crud encrusted skin and dirty, dusty clothing that I’m used to seeing at and around the Police Stations. There was one boy and several girls. One very pretty little girl who was probably around aged 8 or 9 kept staring at me. So I smiled at her. She smiled back and seemed very happy about the interaction. I walked over and gave her a pack of Mentos gum. She gave me a huge, bright smile at that and nodded her thanks. She was seemed too shy to talk. I didn’t want to cause her any embarrassment or cause any concern for her mother or offend any of the Afghani men who were in the “waiting room” with us, so I just smiled at her and walked back over to the Spanish Docs.
About that time, the Dentist came out and called for me. I was first for the torture treatment. I went in. She adjusted my cap. Fiddled around in my mouth for a few minutes. Made a few adjustments to my cap. Fitted it in and made me close my mouth a couple of times. Then she pulled it out. Applied some kind of adhesive to it and re-affixed the cap to my tooth. I had to sit in her office and let the adhesive dry for 50 minutes. After the alloted time, she came back in. Scrubbed around the tooth and cap to make sure all was ok with the fitting and such. Made sure I was good with everything and then she let me go. i thanked her and went back outside to wait for the two guys who came in with me.
When I went back outside, I sat down on the ground in the “waiting area” and started reading the book that I had brought with me. I sat down in the middle of the waiting area about 5 feet away from the group of women and children who were waiting for the Docs. The Afghani men were sitting to the right of me. As I sat and read, the little girl to whom I had given the gum slowly inched her way over. Closer and closer to me. I purposely paid her no attention so as not to spook her. I wanted to see what she would do. So she got about a foot and a half away and sat. Then slowly slid over next to me so she was almost touching me. So close, in fact, that I could feel her breathing on my arm. I was a little surprised. Such a brave child. I looked over and smiled at her. She smiled back. I kept reading. I’m sure that she couldn’t read English. But I made sure that she could see my book. I found myself wishing that I had brought a book with pictures for this circumstance. Would have been cool to show her pictures of other worlds and realities to which she will probably never have access. [A bit of coincidence. I’m reading Caliphate by Tom Kratman. At this point of the book, one of the main characters is a 9 year old Muslim girl. Now, as I come across this character in the book, I see my little Afghani friend.]
One of the Army guys who gave us a ride over showed up and gave the little girl a bag of M&Ms. She smiled up at him in gratitude. It’s always nice to see kids smile when they are given candy or shown a kindness. In those moments, all is right in the world. Small moments that never quite last long enough. I pointed to the M&Ms and told her “chocolate.” She smiled at me. And shyly looked down at her small treasure of candy coated chocolate delights. Then she tore open the bag and the first thing that she did was offer some to me. I refused. Insistently pointing to her and telling her to enjoy her candy. She ate a few while sweetly smiling at me.
I stopped reading and started looking through all of my pockets for something to give her as a gift. Some small token or memento of her encounter with the blonde haired American soldier. Because of the uniform that MPRI has us wear, Afghanis always assume that I’m a soldier. After surveying the inventory of my pockets, I could only come up with one thing that had any meaning at all. I ripped off my name tag and gave it to her and said “naam-e man” which means “my name.” She was the cutest little angel with the sweetest little smile. The whole time she sat next to me, I smelled flowers. Must have been her shampoo as she very nearly had her head on my shoulder the whole time she sat next to me.
Eventually, the Docs came and took her in to take care of her ailments. Before she returned, the guys and I were all finished up. We went to lunch. By the time we finished eating and got back to our vehicle, the little girl and all of the Afghanis were gone.
Little encounters like this one are always magical for me. A few smiles and simple gestures. Yet, a whole world can pass between people in small spaces such as this. Helping to bring a smile to a little girls face is such a priceless experience. I can not quite describe the joy that I derive from these simple moments. I sat there next to that girl and watched her smile and thought of my nieces and every little girl in the world. In moments like these, I feel truly lucky to be able to move about in life as I do. I have experienced so much and met so many great people along the path of my life.
Little girls are made of daisies and butterflies and soft kitty cat purrs And all the precious memories of times that once were.
Little girls are made of angel’s wings and giggles and a firefly’s glow And all the happy feelings, deep inside, that we all know.
Little girls are made of cinnamon and bubbles and fancy white pearls And snowflakes and rainbows and ballerina twirls.
Little girls are made of sunshine and cupcakes and fresh morning dew, And these are the reasons, little one, why everyone loves you.
I didn’t have my camera with me. So I couldn’t take my little friends pictures. These will have to do.
Burden In My Hand
I took the Afghani music out and laid on some Soundgarden. I like this music with the video. It’s grittier. Edgier. The original video has an Afghani fellow riding through the competition singing and looking like an Afghani version of Jolly old Saint Nick. He doesn’t fit and neither does his singing. I edited him out of both versions. He looked a bit ridiculous to me. The song is hagiography about the champions of the game.
On another off note. The nets been down here for the past few days. Apparently, the Coalition forces in Herat like to surf porn. The US Army Command decided that the best way to get the puritanical “no porn ” point across to the Italians and Spanish is to shut down the internet across the board. No one could use the net period because the US is uber-interested in sexual purity and the Spaniards and Italians are…well, they’re just interested in sex.
Gotta love the U.S. Army and it’s puritan streak and the US Army’s willingness to shove that puritan streak down it’s allies throats on the sly. GO ARMY! lol
In plain English, there were several Italian and Spanish porn sites being visited on the internet. Rather than confront the Spanish and Italians on the sensitive subject, the US Army Command in Kabul decided to punish everyone in Herat across the board and shut the internet down for 3 or 4 days. Nothing like a little bit of classic Army mass punishment to get the point across to the people who already got the point. Of course, this is the 2nd time that this has occurred and the Coalition Forces likely don’t understand that they are violating any rules (you know, since no one had the balls to tell them). So it will occur again and again until someone in the US Command gets the moral and political courage to confront the Italians and Spanish about it.
Reminds me of Camp Phoenix when the Garrison Commander told the Brits that they could no longer bring alcohol onto the post. The Brits told him to go to hell and moved off of Camp Phoenix that week. It’s very important to the U.S. Army in Afghanistan that the Adults in it’s forces not imbibe. Can’t offend those Muslims. Half of whom drink themselves. I can’t count the times that an Afghani ANP officer has offered me a drink.
Gotta love America and the Army. They take the fun out of everything. They’ll send you to fight in the land of Islam and you better die sober…(and with your seat belt on or no insurance money for your spouse). These are the laws and rules as handed down by the U.S. Congress. All of whom violate these same laws when they travel to these areas.
Brit Commander; “You Yanks certainly know how to run a war but you sure don’t know how to have fun with one.”