Monday, October 4, 2010

Fast Friends

The whole gang at the office.  Front to back: Steve, Heather, John, and Anonymous.
 
My worst nightmare about coming to Afghanistan was getting in over my head on an analysis project.  I was afraid that there would be some technique that I would need to execute, and have no idea how to do it.  While I was getting ready to come over here, listening to my predecessor talk about the projects he'd worked on scared me a bit, as it sounded way over my head.  I wasn't sure I could handle it.  Thankfully, the things I needed to learn I learned, and I had people to ask about the things I needed help with.  So far, I haven't fallen flat on my face, and my support structure here won't allow it.
 
A close second to this was my fear that I would get stuck in an office with a bunch of people that I hated.  Our office is very small, maybe 10 feet long by 25 feet wide, and we fit 5 people into it.  We're stuck in here together between 12 and 14 hours a day.  Sharing that much time, in this small a space, for six months, would be absolutely horrible if I didn't get along with my office mates.  Instead I've found the complete opposite.  Each of my four co-workers are people that I would be willing to hang out with back home.  Instead of driving me crazy, my co-workers help keep me sane.  
 
The first person I met here was Heather.  Heather deployed to Camp Eggers the week before I did, and we'll end up leaving about the same time.  During the first few weeks here, Heather and I stuck together, mostly to ourselves, as the people we worked with at the time weren't all that social.  But slowly, each of those people were replaced by new blood, and we drug each new guy into our circle.  Our wolf pack was two, and has grown to five.
 
Heather is a bit camera shy, so I have to ambush her.
 
Heather has definitely become the little sister of the group.  We pick on her pretty mercilessly, although in good fun.  She's good-natured enough to take the teasing, practical jokes, and incessant girlish giggling at her expense.  She's also feisty enough to keep us from getting out of line, and dishes out her own brand of humiliation.  She has a hilarious habit of leaving half-empty water bottles everywhere she goes, like the little girl in the movie Signs.  She's addicted to Pixie Sticks.  We militantly protect her from idiots asking for analysis to be done at midnight for a brief the next morning, as she has a tendency to take on any problem she encounters.  We all love her to death.
 
John is the quiet one, and the last of us to arrive in Afghanistan.  He likes to work by himself, and needs quiet time in the office a couple times a day to get stuff done.  But when he's not focused on work, he's just as fun-loving as the rest of us.  John developed "TAITh": Thank Allah It's Thursday (Friday is our sleep-in day, no work til 1300).  He can usually be counted on for a devestating one-liner when it is least expected.  He's a Pittsburgh Steelers fan, but hey, we all have our flaws, right?
 
Steve is the honorary ORSA of the group, and the only one of us here for a year.  His first circle of friends all redeployed back to the States at the same time we were showing up, so we laid claim to him before he could fall in with the wrong crowd.  Steve is definitely the crack-up of the group, which is saying something around these jokers.  He's the only one that knows what I'm talking about when I start a conversation on video games or computers.  He likes to try and do every single weightlifting exercise possible in one work out.  He has the nearly unforgiveable character flaw of being a far-weather Yankees fan, meaning he's not even aware the baseball season has started until the Yankees are in the playoffs.  This October could put a strain on our relationship.
 
 This is what Steve looks like when he discovers the praline ice cream is all gone.
 
The last member of our group is an enigma, wrapped in a conundrum, and fried in bacon.  His past military experience has left him paranoid of any evidence of his existence being present on the internet.  As such, I shall simply call him the Anonymous Analyst. 
 
AA is an aloof individual.  Goofy is his natural state of being.  Dead pan delivery of subtle sarcasm is his specialty, causing lots of headscratching and strange looks amongst those who have just met him.  This guy is the primary instigator of all practical jokes in the office, and the first person held accountable in the absence of a claim of responsibility.  As such, he is often targetted for retaliation, both real and imagined.  Remember I said he was paranoid?  Just a cryptic mention that he might be missing something important will cause hours of entertainment as he searches for whatever it is you "hid".  It takes much longer to convince him you were kidding than it does to spin him up in the first place.
 
AA is best friends with the staff at the dining facilites, specifically so they will slip him the best and/or biggest piece of whatever kind of meat they are serving that evening.  It is not unusual for his meals to consist of four or five types of meat, with a side of cantalope to make himself feel better.  He claims he's in his "bulking phase" of weightlifting, and he needs all the protein to refine his physique.  We know better.  We nicknamed him Meatasaurus, and bought him a can of Spam for his birthday.  Surveying his desk right now, I don't see said Spam anywhere in sight.  I assume he ate it.
 
Our little group spends tons of time together, and not just in the office.  Lunch and dinner each day are a group event, barring interference from meetings and AA's impatient, spine-gnawing, meat-craving hunger pangs.  Me and the guys go lift weights 6 days a week while Heather does CrossFit at the same time outside the gym.  Thursday night is cigar night, followed by a movie.  (In actuality, any night we don't have to work past 8:30 has the potential to become movie night, but we're particularly protective of Thursday.)  We play video games together in John and Steve's room, and sneak away for coffee and conversation at the Green Bean (the combat-zone version of Starbucks) whenever we're able. 

The aforementioned practical jokes are a daily staple.  Here's a sampling of some of the fun we've had so far:
 
- Changed e-mail signature blocks to include creative nicknames on all e-mail traffic, including messages to general officers.
 
- Slowly added half-empty water bottles to Heather's desk, and convincing her each time that she had left them there herself.  This only worked because she has, on average, 7 open bottles of water on her desk at any given time.  She caught on after the total crept north of 20.
 
- Sent numerous e-mails from our supervisor's computer to a member of our group when he leaves his computer unlocked.  Usually the message directs the recipent to perform some terribly redundant/useless/tedious task immediately.  The joke is only revealed after the task has been partially completed.
 
- Rigged a cigar with a wire so that the ash would never fall off.  Through carfeul power of suggestion, guided the deputy of our department (and founder of cigar night) to choose that cigar to smoke.  During our contest to see who could keep the ash on their cigar the longest, we "discovered" the clueless deputy was "cheating" after four and a half inches of ash refused to sucumb to gravity.  He knows he was set up, but he doesn't know by whom. 
 
- Unplugged Heather's mouse from her computer, but left mouse and cord in place, so it looked like nothing was remiss.  Giggled under our breath while she restarted her computer four times in an effort to fix the problem.
 
- Swapped locations of adjacent keys on Heather's keyboard.  While her typing was unaffected (she doesn't look at the keyboard), copying and pasting and other shortcuts were reversed.  She couldn't believe she kept messing up the keystrokes.  It took her 10 minutes to realize that we were to blame.
 
I conceed that some of these are lame.  However, what is lame back home is hilarious while deployed.  The same concept applies to movies.  Trash that I wouldn't watch even if someone paid me back home is a decent distraction over here.  Anything you can do to forget that you're thousands of miles from home and could be shot at at any moment is welcome.  Even if it's lame.
 
Our bosses are pretty awesome, too.   The lieutenant colonel directly in charge of the analysts gave a good belly laugh when I turned in my weekly project report in haiku.  The department deputy organized cigar night, and joins us for movie night more often than not.  Our O-6 watches football with us, as long as we don't disparage his Eagles.  Break that rule at your own peril.
 
Overall, I really don't think I could ask for a better work environment.  Obviously I'd rather be at home with my family, but my deployed family keeps me company.  Without them to distract me from my longing for home, and pick me up after a hard day at the office, my deployment would plain suck.  I'm very thankful for the friends I've found.  I just wish I didn't have to go half way around the world to find them.




That's all for now.  Out here.

No comments:

Post a Comment