I'm a Hard Worker, but I'm not a Workaholic

Alternate Title: I've Got Soul, but I'm not a Soldier

I just finished a 13-hour workday. A workday that involved eating a chocolate doughnut and a hard boiled egg for lunch, having the civilian Duty Driver responsibility of taking people to the flight line for their movements, meeting a reporting deadline for one of our staff who is on leave, participating in a meeting with our implementing partner's Chief of Party, following up on action items for which I was responsible, eating a tuna sandwich for dinner at my desk, and still leaving a project that's due by COB tomorrow untouched and at least 35 unread emails in my inbox when I left the office at 9pm. This workday came on the heels of an evening spent in the combat hospital emergency room with a friend (for - don't worry - a non-combat-related issue, and she's now fine), and then when I was finally able to get to sleep, being woken at 3am and again at 5am by the rocket attack alarm, forcing me to go out to the bunker each time to wait for the "all clear" before going back to sleep. And this workday comes before my "day off" tomorrow, which will involve working at least 6 hours.

All this to say, I am a hard worker. I can do days like today and chalk it up to doing what it takes to get the job done. But days like today are honestly atypical, and I think they should be. As I said in my interview when I was asked about my strategies for stress-management, "I'm a hard worker, but I'm not a workaholic." I know how to work hard, but I also know how to rest. I know how to take breaks, and how to take care of myself. While some of my colleagues may work 13-, 14- or 15-hour days, 7 days a week, I refuse to. I'm determined that days like today will be anomalies.

You see, in practical terms, I just don't think it's possible to practice the healthy habits of a balanced lifestyle and work those kind of days. There simply aren't enough hours in the day for being a workaholic if you value other parts of your life. My spirit is important to me, so I will nurture it. I will spend time in the mornings with my Creator and Sustainer. My body is important to me, so I will take care of it. I will go to the gym every day, and I won't skip meals or make chocolate doughnuts a regular lunch item. My friends and family are important to me, so I will do my best to stay in touch with them. I will take time each day to write at least one email or Skype with at least one person or post something on my blog (!). My mind is important to me, so I will take time to reflect on my work. I will stop in the middle of my workday three times a week to journal and process through what I am learning and thinking about with regard to peacebuilding in this context. My mental health is important to me, so I will get good nights of sleep. I'll get at least 7, hopefully 8 hours of rest a night. When you add that all up, even if I get up at 6:30 and go to sleep at 11, it really only leaves 9 or 10 hours for work a day. See, it's really just impossible for me to be a workaholic. If you don't care about any of these other things, sure, you can work 16-18 hours a day. But I can't. It's not just that I won't, but I can't!

Of course, there will always be days like today, when, because of extenuating circumstances, I just have to push through and save the gym for tomorrow. I can do that. But I'll make sure these days are few and far between. Now, unless the Taliban or the Duty Driver phone thwart my well-laid plans again, I'm going to go get that good night's sleep.

Life at KAF: The New Normal

I've been at KAF for two weeks now and despite some of the idiosyncrasies of this place, I honestly really like it here. Adjusting to base life hasn't been all that difficult, even though it has its funny oddities. Here's a snapshot of my new normal:

• Badges, badges, and more badges. Since I started my job in March, I've gotten upwards of 5 new forms of ID. Everywhere I go, I need a different badge to get in - one for the USAID building in DC, one for the Embassy in Kabul, one for KAF, one for the Dining Facilities, not to mention my personal and diplomatic passports. Anyone not in uniform must wear a KAF ID badge at all times on base, so my neck pouch that displays my ID and holds my room key and some cash has become my newest fashion accessory.
• Idiot Reflectors. That's my name for it. Officially, I'm not sure what they're called, but after dark on base, everyone MUST wear a reflector belt, sold at the PX in the popular colors of either neon orange or neon yellow. I've heard rumors that one can incur a $25 fine for not wearing it after sundown, so post-7pm, this is my fashion accessory #2.
• No Bags Allowed, i.e. Do These Cargo Pants Make My Thighs Look Fat? KAF is a man's world, and in a man's world, of course purses are not only unnecessary but prohibited. Civilian guys sure do love their cargo pants here, and girls get roped into it too - how else am I going to get to the DFAC with my phone, sunglasses, and possibly notepad and pen? I have not fully mastered the art of cargo pants yet, though; sometimes I'm amazed at the things guys pull out of their pants around here (and not in that way) - those pockets are like Mary Poppins' handbag!
• Dust. Kandahar is basically a giant dust bowl. Which means, if you look at anyone's shoes or the bottom 4 inches of their pants, they are constantly covered with a brown layer of dust. In fact, the NATO gym requires that you bring an extra pair of shoes when you come to work out because they won't allow you to come inside with the shoes you wore to walk there. For this reason, the U.S. gym, which doesn't have this requirement, is known as the "dirty gym." At least, I think that's why it's known as that...
• Planes, Trains and Automobiles. Well, actually, it's really planes, helicopters, fighter jets and drones. At KAF, which I've been told is the busiest single-runway airport in the world, the sounds of planes taking off and landing is pretty constant, day and night. I've now gotten used to the sound of the jets taking off, although when I first arrived, I was startled because the noise was what I imagined indirect fire would sound like. Sometimes I still get woken up in the middle of the night by the rumble of engines and the whirring of chopper blades overhead.
• Boys with Guns and Big Trucks. Should I be concerned that it doesn't phase me to eat breakfast next to 19-year-olds with M-4s strapped around their backs? You see guns about everywhere you see uniforms, which is, well, pretty much everywhere. On a daily basis I walk by scores of huge MRAPS and Humvees without a second glance. It's easy to forget that these things are not as innocuous as they can seem when you're constantly surrounded by them.
• DFACs, aka Fine Dining KAF Style. We are lucky to have 6 - count them, 6! - Dining Facilities at KAF. One of the most exciting parts of my day is when Jacob comes over from next door, peeks his head in our office and says, "Lunch?" or "Dinner?", and then we commence the discussion about where we will eat that night. Luxembourg is the closest, but Niagara has much better salad options. Cambridge is terrible and far away, so that doesn't enter into the decision-making. But if we're really feeling adventurous, we'll venture even further to Flight Line (our favorite, but a 15-minute drive), Independence (good variety), or East Asia for some curry and stir fry. I'm thinking we need to start our own KAF version of Yelp and post ratings and reviews, because our critiques of the different varieties of cafeteria food are definitely getting more and more refined and sophisticated with time.
• 7-Day Work Weeks. Day off? Who needs one of those?! Well, in reality, Friday is considered a "half day", which means I get to sleep in (glorious!), go into the office around 12, and leave by 8! This schedule definitely makes all the days kind of blend together. Last Saturday, I kept coming close to wishing people a Happy Monday because it felt like the start of a new week after the half-day Friday "weekend."
• 4-Digit Codes. Our little compound within the base is full of doors with codes. A code to get in through the gate, a code to get in the gate inside the gate to where our office is, a code to get in the door to the office. Considering what seems like excessive security within security within security, it's a little odd that no codes are necessary to enter the building where we live...
• There's Nothing Like the Smell of Excrement in the Morning... and the Afternoon... and the Evening. You could say that KAF has a "poop problem," meaning, we can build an entire society and infrastructure in the middle of a war-torn province, but we can't figure out what to do with our own shit (literally). Thus, the delightful smell of excrement often wafts up from our famous "poop pond" downwind (or upwind? I always get those confused).
• KAF Money. Yes, KAF has its own (legal?) tender! When I go to the PX and give the cashier $20 for a $19.75 purchase, I won't get a quarter back, but a cardboard circle that looks like piece to a board game that says 25 cents on it. They also have these lovely game pieces in 5 and 10 cent denominations. Good at KAF only! 
• The Boardwalk. The KAF Boardwalk is famous throughout Afghanistan. It is what it sounds like - boards that you walk on lined with shops and restaurants and cafes. Its pretty much the social center of the base - in the evenings you can find salsa dancing lessons and karaoke, and at any time during the day there will be people sitting at tables smoking and talking, guys in PT playing football or hockey. The other day we walked by a rousing hockey match between Slovakia and Canada. I actually really love the Boardwalk. It makes me happy to see people smiling, relaxing, socializing and having fun in the middle of such a desolate place.