Things I Like About the Military

Over the last 6 weeks, I've had more interaction with the military than I ever thought I would (and this is still all pre-KAF!) through meetings, briefings, presentations, trainings, and friendships. At first it kind of felt like an anthropological undertaking, then I was surprised by how much I didn't hate it. Now, as I take time to reflect a little more seriously about what it is I've liked and appreciated about the military interactions I've had, it almost surprises me that I was surprised I didn't hate it. These are just first, nascent impressions - and I understand that my interactions thus far are not necessarily representative of what it will be like living with thousands of 20-year-old enlisted guys. But I realized there is actually quite a lot about the military that fits well with my natural personality and preferences. I'm sure by the end of the year I'll be able to make an equally long list of things about military culture that decidedly do NOT fit with my personality, but for the sake of maintaining a positive outlook, at least at the beginning :)...

Things I Like about the Military that Surprised Me, but Shouldn't Have:

1. Someone in one of my trainings said that working with other agencies will be like learning new cultures, and she encouraged us to approach these cultures with open minds. This has been a great perspective for me to have and I find learning military culture to be fascinating! The symbols, patches, rules, etiquette, acronyms, hierarchy - it's a whole new world, but for some reason, I just love soaking all this stuff up!
2. Soldiers are on time. They arrive on time, start on time, and finish on time. My Meyers-Briggs INTJ LOVES this. I HATE it when people are not on time, or think they are so important that they can give a 45-minute presentation when they were only given 30 minutes to talk. Who do you think you are? After 32 minutes, I will completely shut you out and start getting angry at you for disrespecting me and my time (a big reason sermons drive me batty!). I always loved seeing a uniform at my trainings because I knew s/he was going to end on time!
3. Military people know how to give effective, organized presentations. Every military PowerPoint I've seen starts with a slide listing the agenda. THANK YOU! Not only do you actually KNOW what you're going to say, but you're telling me! I hate presenters who ramble on and don't give me an indication of where they're going or when they're going to finish. Give me a bullet-point list, please!
4. Officers - at least - think strategically. Today I sat down with a Lieutenant Colonel who talked to me for an hour about the military strategy in Afghanistan - what we've done, what we're doing now, what we plan to do in the future, why we're doing it that way, what we expect to happen. Regardless of what I may think about the strategy itself, I was quite impressed by the strategic planning and thinking that went into it!
5. Most of the military guys I've met (aside from the occasional Captain America wannabe) have no-bullshit attitudes. They aren't about sugar-coating things, or putting something in flowery language, or saying something in 5 sentences when you could say it in one. Diplomats and development wonks can talk in circles about things for ages, but I appreciate military-style brevity and straightforwardness in communication.
6. Soldiers will go places no one else is willing to go. In short, they're just plain badass. The fact that this is appealing to me causes a bit of cognitive dissonance considering peacebuilders probably aren't supposed to think the guys with the guns are cool. But, at the risk of deeply offending all the military people I know by comparing them to Peace Corps volunteers, I'm going to do it. PCVs may be granola-eating hippies, but they are willing to go to a lot of places no one else is willing to go, and live under conditions (rural villages, sparse electricity, no running water, no internet) most people wouldn't come close to with a 10,000-foot pole. In the same way, and even more hard core, soldiers willingly go to acutely dangerous places and don't complain. This in itself is commendable.

Who knew? Here's to continuing to be open to unlikely partners!

Oh, the Difference 5 Years Makes

Five and a half years ago, I left home (California) for Kyrgyzstan on my 25^th birthday. On that day I did, no doubt, embark on what proved to be a grand life-changing adventure (about which you can read if you explore this blog’s archives from September 2005 - November 2007 :)). However, it’s been interesting for me to contrast how I felt leaving home on that day in September with how I felt this time around – leaving my DC home for Afghanistan.

The day I left for Kyrgyzstan I was an emotional basket case. I bawled saying goodbye to my friends and family at the airport, I bawled sitting by myself at the gate waiting to board the plane, I bawled all the way from Fresno to San Francisco reading the book of letters friends and family had written me. It felt like what I was doing was so huge, and two years seemed like such a long, incomprehensible time period. I mourned moving so far away from the people I loved most, who knew me best. I was excited, but also anxious – feeling like I was getting ready to jump off a cliff and I didn’t know what would happen once I leapt from the precipice. I knew I was definitely going to jump, but wondered what exactly I had gotten myself into, and whether or not I was really glad I had gotten myself into it!

Three days ago I left for what will no doubt be another life-changing adventure in Afghanistan, but I felt completely different. There were no tears when I boarded the plane, there was no fear or anxiety – I felt completely (and perhaps strangely!) calm and ready, as if I was doing what anyone might do on a typical May 9^th. After an overnight layover in Dubai, I took some time on the flight to Kabul to read the notes and letters people have written me over the last few months – and instead of making me cry, they made me smile and feel encouraged and empowered for the journey ahead. Rather than feeling like I am jumping off a cliff into the unknown, I feel like my feet are taking steps they were always meant to take. The way forward is still largely unknown and I expect to encounter new and bigger challenges, yet I feel at peace.

So I’ve wondered: What’s the difference? Well, five years, for starters. It wasn’t like I was doing anything wrong or feeling anything inappropriate when I left for Kyrgyzstan. It was a big deal. But I was younger and in a different place. Though I’d left home at different points before then, I’d always come back – Fresno was still home, so leaving was harder than it is now after having made another home for myself in DC. Though I’d traveled overseas before, it was never for more than 3 months at a time. Though I’d had some practice coming and going, I was generally used to being literally close to my closest friends and family. This time around, I have more practice and confidence in both my and my friends’ abilities to maintain those relationships across large distances. At 30, one or two years just doesn’t seem like that long anymore. I know what it’s like to live overseas, so it’s not so much of a mystery. This move to Afghanistan is just as momentous for me – if not more so – but it’s been encouraging to look back and see that I’m not the same person I was when I was 25. I have five more years of preparation and more tools to make this adventure a success – with less fear, and more peace.

Lessons I Learned Job-Searching that Should Come in Handy in Afghanistan (and Beyond)

I loved grad school and can't imagine going into my field without the knowledge I gained about things like conflict theory, dynamics, escalation and analysis, peace processes, cultural considerations in conflict resolution, and peacebuilding interventions like mediation, negotiation, dialogue, and problem-solving workshops. The flip side of that is the training I'm finishing now in skills necessary for living in combat zones like working with military counterparts, wearing body armor, convoy protocol, emergency medical response, small arms familiarization, and tactical driving. But in between the MA and the job was this strange and beautiful "holding period" called job searching. In the 9 months from March to December 2010, I applied for 108 jobs before getting an offer from OTI. 108! However frustrated and discouraged I felt at times, this season was a precious one and I will always look back on it with gratitude because I learned some invaluable lessons that I didn't get in grad school or in my job training. Those 9 months, though difficult, were not just about waiting idly for the right opportunity to come along, but were necessary preparation for the next adventure. Thus, things I learned job searching that should come in handy in Afghanistan:

Fight
You don't get your dream job by sitting around in your pajamas waiting for someone to offer it to you on a silver platter (although that would have been nice for my ego). I'm good at being flexible, accommodating, and enduring hardship. I can take what life throws at me and adjust. While acceptance and capitulation work in some situations, I learned that sometimes I need to stand down and fight! Not just let life happen to me, but fight the bad and fight FOR the good. It was impossible to job search from a position of passivity and anonymity. I had to be out there, taking initiative and risks, owning responsibility, and making a way for myself. The shadows are safe, but I am well-positioned for nothing there. Likewise (and perhaps paradoxically), I have to fight for peace - it doesn't just happen on its own. I have to work hard and take initiative to MAKE peace, over and over and over and over again - without giving up or capitulating to the forces that seek to steal it. Peacebuilding is a battle!

Access the Good
I realized my natural tendency is to default to self-pity in difficult circumstances. But in the season of job searching, I was challenged to walk through the valley not with head hung low, but with eyes open to the good that was accessible. Instead of retreating to the familiar "woe is me" stance when faced with desolate-feeling situations like constant rejection and running out of money, I learned instead to choose to ask the questions: What can I learn right now that I couldn't learn under other circumstances? What is the opportunity? Where is the good here? How am I to respond in the midst of this? As I enter into countries affected by warfare - some of the most desolate and hopeless in the world - how important it will be for me to see opportunity and access the good even when it seems like things can't get any worse. There is always a way to turn the valley into a place of springs, but you have to look for it.

Hope
I was full of hope about my next step when I finished grad school, which came under serious fire as my number of applications mounted (50, 60, 80, 100!) over several months with little to no evidence that I was making any progress at all. Here there was a challenge - would I believe solely in the reality I could see on the surface, or would I choose to believe there was more going on behind the scenes than I could see with my eyes? I had to choose daily not to lose heart and not to throw away my confidence, but believe that it would be rewarded - holding on to hope beyond what seemed rational at times. I think this type of hope and perseverance are essential to the work of building peace. Often when all seems lost is when we are closest to breakthrough - what a shame it would be to give up right before you got there!

Patience & Timing
Even though I was looking for a job during this whole season, I realized that life is not primarily about striving for outcomes, but faithfulness on the journey - transformation, not destination. When I fix my eyes on an outcome, no matter how noble, it's too easy to lose sight of the good around me in the present, to lose hope in the face of obstacles, and to try to rush the process - when often the process is more valuable than the outcome. Seasons have their own rhythms, and there is nothing I can do to slow or rush them - the best thing I can do is simply engage that pace and enjoy it, taking advantage of the present and the unique opportunities it offers to grow and learn. Likewise, peace is a process, not a destination. Timing is important when it comes to peacebuilding interventions - better to look for opportunities to engage with change agents and movements going on in the present moment (however small) than try to force an outcome that may actually be a year (or 5 or 20) down the road.

9 months of job searching was no party, but what had the potential to look like a desolate valley actually turned out to be a place of springs that prepared me for the next part of the journey. And did I mention that at the end of it all, I got my dream job? Yeah, I'd call that a win.