Love design!!! I just came across your blog and wanted to say that Ive really...This Just In: It’s Hot In Iraq
Posted by Erik Rupard on July 16th, 2008
The internet and the electricity have both been down most of the day today, and the former just came back up a few minutes ago. I figure I’d better blog quickly, and get it posted before we crash again.
Catching up a bit: on Friday of last week, the electricity went out in Centurion Can City, the very exclusive gated community in which I and my fellow TMC personnel reside. This is unusual: it is actually more common for the lights to go out in the clinic and other parts of the base, as they are on the “power grid.” Our cans have their own separate generator, so usually we stay up when other areas go down. But, as I learned on Friday, when we go down, we go down hard.
My computer tells me the lights went down sometime between 1 PM (when I received an e-mail message) and about 2:30, when one of our patients informed us that our cans had gone dark. By 5 PM, when I got out of clinic and back to my hermetically sealed container, it had to be 110 degrees in that thing. The sun beats down on our tin cans all day long, and without A/C, they’re about as cool as your average parked car in Arizona. I went to Family Home Evening, and was happy to find electricity and A/C functioning at the chapel. When I returned home an hour later, as I rode my bike past the commons area, I could see that the lights were still off, and in the low ambient light I could just make out a large circle of my compadres, sitting in their captain’s chairs, escaping the stifling heat inside the lightless trailers. I grabbed my own chair and sat out with them for a while, but at around 10 PM, I decided to try to hit the sack.
I put my weatherproof Army blanket on top of my bed, in attempt to not sweat all over my sheets, and lay there in the heat, with no breeze, and my door propped open in attempt to encourage the tiniest bit of air flow. Didn’t help much. Throughout the next hour, my homies slowly made their way back to their cans, but most did not last inside for long, eventually opting to lay on a table outside their trailer (CPT Baker), or in a chair (my civilian neighbor Ron and SPC Santiago, among others). A couple of the women, CPT Hall and SSG Macomber, went back to the clinic, where the A/C was intact.
For my part, I forced myself to remain on my rubberized bed, because I knew that if I lay there long enough, I would eventually nod off. I had done it many times before in the stifling heat of San Antonio during my mission. When one is trying to go to sleep in the heat, it is crucial not to have any parts of one’s body touch any other parts. This means that the legs have to be scissored a bit, and arms flailing under and above the pillow, going in different directions. It requires a lot of maneuvering, too, so as not to let the sweat concentrate too much in one place. But I did eventually fall asleep in my contorted position.
A bit after midnight, the lights went back on, with accompanying shrieks of joy among the Marines next door. It took a good thirty minutes to cool my room, though, and I used some of this time to de-stickify myself with a long, cool shower. I then called Lorri and found out that, in some twisted approximation of sympathetic suffering, she was having A/C problems of her own, with our Georgia home’s entire lower floor unit not working. The HVAC guy was over as we spoke, checking it out. Strange brew.
I eventually hit the sack around 2:30 AM, with two thoughts in my head:
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This was easily my worst night in Iraq to-date.
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If, at the end of my deployment, this remains my worst night, I will be very grateful.
July 16th, 2008 at 9:37 pm
I really enjoyed your blog today. Do you remember when we visited my family in Scandia and stayed in the “mobile home”. It was a long tin can standing in the sun, no screens on the windows, no decent ac. Really hot and ugly and, by my standards, dirty. We couldn’t open the windows because the mosquitos were as big as June bugs. The “master bedroom” had one small window unit. We eventually took you kids to sleep on the floor in the house. Also, there was no shower on the farm, only a bath tub. A miserable, but cheap, vacation. As our old neighbor Joe used to say, “Poor folks has poor ways”. The next year we camped in Nova Scotia. However, I can’t tell you how much I miss those days. To all of my children: cherish the good and miserable times with your kids. They grow up too fast and some go to strange lands. Love, Mom
July 16th, 2008 at 10:07 pm
Eric, hey i have to tell you man, your blog is so funny and yet insightful. I am just amazed at your ability to muse all of it over there. I love reading about your latest trials if only because it helps me keep my own trials in perspective. Thanks for everything you are and do over there and to all the men and women who serve. With love from the Hodgson fam. See you in a couple of months.
July 17th, 2008 at 6:53 am
Erik, I’d like to correct one little thing that your mom remembered about our great tin can adventure in Scandia: that “one small (ac) unit” was actually a miserable little electric fan of miniscule size and ability. It only moved around some 100 degree humidity laden, mosquito infested air. An equal opportunity fan, by any measure. Little did you know, at the time, that you would have to repeat that experience over and over with gamboge colored dust thrown in. Life surely is interesting, isn’t it?
July 17th, 2008 at 7:05 am
Mom: Believe it or don’t, I do remember that trip. Proof? You and dad bought an old sewing machine in an auction there, which we had to strap to the top of our station wagon on the trip home. Funny, though, I don’t remember being hot in that trailer, and I do remember having a lot of fun on that trip, watching Wally herd grampa’s cows.
Clayton (my brother-in-law, married to Lorri’s sister Roseanne, and an electrician extraordinaire): Good to hear from you, bro. I’m glad you enjoy the blog, and it’s always good to hear from you. We’ll be seeing you at Christmas time in Hilton Head…
July 17th, 2008 at 4:40 pm
Erik,
You poor thing! I was remembering our small cape in Simsbury. We only had one fan, and Mom would put it in the hall facing both our rooms, kitty-corner. Even at 5 I remember thinking” this is way too hot to believe.” Of course it didn’t occur to me that m&D didn’t have a fan at all!
That trip to Kansas was fun. We picked about 200 ticks off of Wally after we got home, and after we wiped our necks of slobber. If Wally were still alive, I bet he would say it was a good time for him, as well.
Its pretty hot here today, with promise of more heat and humidity to come. Bob will be in hog heaven.
Hope all is well with you. I love and miss you. Drop me a line so I know you are thinking of me, too. All my love and good wishes to lorri, Madddy, Drew, and Maya.
Mit
July 17th, 2008 at 7:45 pm
Hey, I remember being incredibly hot in that tin can as well. I also remember that the ticks we picked off of Wally were bloated up to the size of small cats and when we would pick them off and stomp on them … eeewww gross! Miss you Erik. The countdown clock is a-ticking. You will be home soon! Love, Beckles
July 17th, 2008 at 8:02 pm
Thanks Melissa. I too, hope your family is well.
My favorite fireside stories are the times when Erik shares with me those memories of his youth….before the dawning of the age of seatbelts. He was about 8 years old I guess? He says of the station wagon seating plan: “I just had to crawl over the backseat and make a spot for myself.”
It makes me laugh hysterically-just picturing that.
July 18th, 2008 at 2:12 am
Mit,
I am thinking of you, and all of my extended family back in the states. These little messages are much appreciated by me, and I check the blog a few times daily (internet access dependent), just to see what you peeps have to say.
Closing in on a month to go, now. Time is flying…
Erik
July 18th, 2008 at 9:53 am
Lorri,
What Erik says is true about our car trip. Mostly , though, because everyone was afraid to sit by Barry, I couldn’t stand to be touched (Mom!…he’s touching me again…) and our stupid dog actually chased passing cars inside the car. It never ended. Oh, bring back the days when your legs stuck to the seats, there was no air conditioning, and Mom actually had to use feminine protection to stop a car breakdown. Those were the days. Erik, glad to hear from you. We are all counting the days until your safe return.
love love love, Mit
July 18th, 2008 at 12:17 pm
Hi All,
Does anyone remember the old station wagon we had with the seat facing out the back window? The “lucky” 2 who got that seat (usually Barry and Melissa) had to ride backward everywhere we went. It also had no power steering and no power brakes and no air conditioning! I think it was a green chevy.
Love, Mom