Winds of Change

  When I woke up this morning, the sun was shining through the small part of my window that isn’t boarded up. We’ve been meaning to sandbag them like most windows around here are, but one has already been blown out, so there is Plexi-glass on that one. You have to figure Plexi-glass won’t shatter too badly. The other window is boarded up pretty good, so we haven’t gotten around to it. But we will. My roommate and I will fill about 20 sandbags, haul them up a makeshift ladder and carry them over to the window. Also, our windows are about 20 feet up on the wall, so they probably don’t pose too much of a threat.

   Someone once said about being deployed in Iraq for a year, “You know, if you sleep 12 hours a day, you’re only here for six months.” I don’t sleep well here. Part of this may be the constant chance of something exploding, whether it is us shooting at them, or an incoming attack. It never ceases to shake the nerves a little bit.

   We’re very self-sufficient, and the barter and trade system is always possible. If you have something that is in high demand, you can trade it for other items you may need. And there’s lots of wood and tools. If you want a new desk, you can go build one. Need shelves? Grab some wood and throw ‘em together. A ladder? No problem. Much of our shelving, desks, tables and benches were built with plywood and 2 x 4s.

   They say it’s going to start cooling off in the next month or so, and that there is actually a winter here. It’s supposed to get down to about 20 degrees, and rain almost daily for a couple of months. Looking around today, I find that hard to believe. 

   But, this morning there was actually a cool breeze. Winds from the Persian Gulf swept up across Kuwait and Iraq, welcoming me into another bright Southwest-Asian day. I wonder if they hint of the subtle changes in the atmosphere as one season languidly makes way for the next. The changing of the seasons is a metaphor of my life these days. I like to think of my time in Iraq as half of two summers, and one winter. Once I get through the winter, there's only 1/2 a summer left until I can start getting to know my kids again.

 As truth is found, I rearrange.

 Inside Out. Outside In.

 Perpetual change.

                            - Author unknown

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