Love design!!! I just came across your blog and wanted to say that Ive really...Brownian Motion
Posted by Erik Rupard on April 16th, 2008
My sleep last night was constantly interrupted by the sound of wind whooshing past my mansion o’ plastic. Now I have indeed previously documented that it gets pretty windy here in the not-so-fruited plains of hill-country Iraq. However, my swank bachelor pad in scenic Al Asad (motto: “the ultimate gated community”), is completely surrounded by 25-foot-tall concrete barricades, and therefore the fact that a good amount of this air was bashing my walls all through the night was a bit troubling. On a couple of occasions, I could feel the canister straining at its foundation, threatening to break away. I thought about looking out of the window to see what was going on, but was too lazy to get up. (Also, I was a bit afraid that I’d see Toto flying by.)
When I got up around 7, it seemed to be very dark outside, and the wind was still whipping fiercely. I looked out the window and saw…well, pretty much nothing. There was a serious brown-out going on, with the dust nearly obscuring the front door of the can directly across from me (maybe ten feet away). I hopped on the internet, as I always do in the AM, to check out what you guys have been saying about me all night, and noted that the OIFnet service was down. A few minutes later, the TV went down as well. You can probably guess what would fall next.
As I was getting dressed, one of my medics came by and said that he had been sent in the truck to pick up my neighbors and I (the non-breakfast-going bunch) and drive us to the clinique. I declined his offer, as I wanted to ride my bike around and check out the damage. The ride in was fun, with faster winds than I have previously experienced forcing me to lean heavily to one side, just to keep my old Huffy aloft. By the time I made it to the clinic (only a quarter mile away), I (or rather the right side of me) was covered in highly refined brown silica, a.k.a. Iraqi dust.
When I opened the door to the clinic, I noted that the electricity had gone down yet again, but this time I had an ominous feeling that it would not rebound quite as quickly as before. This feeling proved correct, as the power did not go back on for the entire day, and phone lines, internet, LAN, all were down as well. Our clinic is in a building that (per rumor) was previously a bath-house, and hence has no windows except for some of those transom-types about 14 feet above ground level. This means that when the electricity goes out, it is very very dark. All of us have these little white LED lights on our keychains (Al Asad, like all bases in theater, is blacked out at night, so those little babies are essential), so we used these to get around, and saw what patients we could see, but not many showed up due to the cloud of dust. So, most of the day was spent sitting in the hallway where the open door gave us a little light, coughing and talking about the usual subjects (home, clinic, dust, the upcoming PT test).
Lunch was Cordon Bleu (again, no animal specified) and then I slipped back to the canister to see if the internet had come up there yet. No dice. For afternoon clinic I saw a few patients, listened to a book on my iPod, and had a little nap on one of the exam tables. I figured that I’d be awakened, sooner or later, by the lights going back on, but it never happened. A few of the medics, and my nurse practitioner were given the opportunity to go home after about 2:30, as it seemed that the lack of light and the paucity of patients would result in an exceptionally slow clinic, but not a single person on the medical side left. If some of us were sitting in the dark, than all of us would sit in the dark. Army people are unselfish that way.
At about 4 PM I accompanied SPC Penkert to get the mail, and I was rewarded for my efforts with a package from mom and dad (thanks for the Chex mix–woo-hoo!). Then, since the brown miasma was still hovering over Al Asad like Pigpen, and therefore no exercising outside could be done, I went to the gym with CPT Baker.
If you have never been in a smallish gymnasium which is
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full of sweaty marines lifting weights
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in the middle of the desert
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during a dust storm
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when all of the electricity is out
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with no air-conditioning or any other kind of ventilation system
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and silly you, you completely forgot to bring your toxic gas mask
then I am here to tell you my friend, you have simply NOT LIVED. However (and I say this as one who has experienced the above and managed to escape with just enough strength in my festering lungs to tell the tale), there just may be some things worse than not living. To (just slightly) paraphrase Patrick Henry: “Give me liberty or give me death. But please, PLEASE give me death before you make me go back into the Al Asad Gymnasium when the A/C is out.”
Fortunately, the lights came back on at 5:35 PM. When they came on, I could see clearly that the brownish haze was actually inside of the building as well as outside. I rode my bike back at around 6 PM, with the Pigpen miasma still keeping things real, and eventually got home to (finally) functioning internet. Lorri and I spoke for a bit, I had some delicious Hormel something-or-other, and then I settled down to watch that fabulous Mormon talent show “American Idol.”
April 17th, 2008 at 10:15 pm
Hey, E. It’s Travis from Wally World. I am on my way over there. Going to Ft.Polk for about 4 weeks, then to Iraq for 6 months. Glad to see you’re doing OK. I’ll check in later.
Travis
April 18th, 2008 at 9:36 am
Hi, Erik,
We talked to Lorri for nearly an hour this morning. She is doing a fabulous job at single parenting 3 teenagers. Dad and I volunteered to come down and teen sit when you get back so that you and Lorri can take a few days of second honeymoon, or third or fourth, whatever. The candy in the box from us is for your clinic. Hey, it beats filling space with styrofoam peanuts. Mit’s kids have been on spring vacation this week. We went to the aquarium with Christian and Juliet and to Boston the next day with Caroline and Becky. Great fun both days. Yesterday the twins and I made bread. Again, lots of fun. However, today we are cleaning house and replenishing groceries…not lots of fun. I read that chapstick is a desired item in Iraq. Would you like some? Let us know what you would like us to send. Love Mom
April 18th, 2008 at 10:14 am
Weird; Just this morning he said his lips hurt ‘real bad’.
Thanks for the encouragement mom R. Around here, some days are bigger than others.
April 18th, 2008 at 4:51 pm
Mom and I went to our regular muscle bending class, today (4/18). Thankfully we did not need to fight the dust. Our conversation with Lorri is always comforting to us and we hope it is to her, too. She has a great sense of humor and we seem to laugh together about the best way to handle teenage girls. We’ve had some experience at that but nothing really prepares you for it until it happens and you are there. Decision time!
Remember the book David Mamet suggested? “Masks In A Pageant”, he said “was the best book on politics I had ever read.” I checked it out (surprisingly our library found it at the USCG library in New London). This book was written by William Allen White and it was published in 1928 so it is long out of print. Lorri and I are trying to find a copy for you. It is a must read for you, Erik. The writing is superb and authoritative by the owner/editor of the Emporia, KS Gazette. He covered many presidential campaigns and he was a long time friend of Teddy Roosevelt. He writes about the origins of Liberalism and the characters responsible for its development. We will do our best to get a copy for you. You would enjoy the book. Here’s hoping that tomorrow will be more power-full. dad
April 18th, 2008 at 5:04 pm
Actually the chapstick thing came from Reader’s Digest (which has mysteriously started to come monthly). A mother was speaking with her son in Iraq. He requested “lots of chapstick”. She sent him 300 pairs of chopsticks. So I guess Skype does have its moments. Chapsticks are on the grocery list. Love, Mom
April 18th, 2008 at 6:21 pm
Mom,
That’s a funny story – it took me a minute. Get him the good Burt’s Bees stuff. It feels so good and it is minty fresh. Important out there in the dust.
P.S. Don’t wash Wade’s sheets, he will be back Monday.
Love, Becky
April 18th, 2008 at 7:12 pm
Hey Uncle Erik!or should i say… المشجعأهِ!, مرحبا! (i’m pretty sure that says “hello uncle” but lingvo.com could have steered me wrong!)
Im glad to hear that you’re OK (well as OK as one who was recently subject to a blackout in a gym with smelly MArines and noe ventilation) You seem to have been really busy lately but im happy that you’ve found time to post during those precious few mooments that you’ve had. I dont know if you’ve been listening to new tunes much but i recently came across a few gems myself: Brendan Benson’s ‘05 creation “Alternative To Love” is the perfect innocent, friendly, heartwarming, indie album to listen to when you’re in any kind of mood. Another one that has created a mass of opinions from “Ridiculously Sexy” to “Dissapointing” is The Kills-”Midnight Boom”. Its not the best , as it sounds quite repetitive, but there are a few tracks that i find to be quite awesome and best represent their dirty, garage-rock sound. Well yuve probably got some lives to be saving or some medicine to be prescring so i’ll go now! But if you want any tid-bits just give me an email at ctompkins@region18.org
GO SOX!!!,
your nephew,
Christian
April 18th, 2008 at 11:39 pm
I appreciate all of the concern about my lips’ tortured epithelium. Reader’s Digest has not steered you wrong on this one: the dry air does cause some chapping, peeling, and even perhaps some chafing in a few tragic cases.
However I am fortunate to work in a clinic which is well-stocked with many Iraq-essential items (see our “FREE STUFF” shelf below, which also doubles for our library), including sunscreen, “Chigg-Away” (not many takers on that one), foot powder, bibles (second shelf on the right, next to the condoms), and bona fide, honest-to-goodness Chap-Stik.
So my lips are pretty much covered (pun intended), but thanks for thinking of them.
April 19th, 2008 at 12:13 pm
Hi Mr. Rupard! Maddy told me about your blog, and I shared it with my family. We are all so glad to see that you’re doing well!
Earlier this year, Elizabeth Gipson and I held a supply drive for soldiers, together with some other kids at school, for the Iraqi base where one of our teacher’s brothers is stationed. I wasn’t sure at the time if you had left for Iraq yet, so I’m sorry that I missed the chance to collect stuff for you and your base when we held our drive. We can’t hold another one until next year at soonest, but please do know that the community over here is thinking of you and the other troops overseas.
My parents, Christy and I all send our best wishes!
Beth
April 19th, 2008 at 11:30 pm
Hey Erik, I’ve been sitting here catching up on your blog and laughing out loud. Your vivid images coupled with the weird Vodi sense of humor have me in hysterics, and give me a much needed break from my studies. You sound in good spirits, as does Lorri, whom I talk with a couple times a week. Keep up the good work over there, and know that we truly appreciate the sacrifice you’re making.
April 22nd, 2008 at 11:51 am
Erik -
I learned of your blogginess last week. I have managed to scan through your entries all the way back to your 1st day in Iraq. Good stuff. It sounds like you are doing well, for which I am happy and glad. I think when it is my turn to take a tour over there, I will look into this whole blog thing, too . . . although I cannot predict what might seep out of the corners of my mind in that setting. We look forward to your safe return to DD-MAC in a few months.
Pete S.