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This is not a test

Well, Capt Mike has arrived "safely" in Kandahar. He got there early Wednesday, but the recent events there meant that there was a communications lockdown, and he was only able to call me last night. The time difference appears to be about 8 hours. It was 6:00 am for him, and 10:00 pm the night before for me.

He has a few days at the airfield in Kandahar before heading out to a forward operating base (FOB), where he will likely be staying until his HLTA in November. He said that the weather is hot and dry, and everything is coated with a fine white dust so that you feel like you're walking through icing sugar. While on the airfield he is able to share an air-conditioned trailer with his friend Max, but the accomodations will probably be less cushy out in the FOB.

It seems that Tim Horton's is a big hit, not just with the Canadian troops. The Americans and French use it too, so there are always line ups. Mike has instead been getting his coffee at an American Starbucks rip-off. Junk food is apparently ubiquitous. Of all the things our western culture chooses to export, Big Macs, doughnuts, and aspartame are at the top of the list. Pop can be consumed at every meal, in any quantity, and an as yet unconfirmed rumour has it that there are barrels full of chips and candy bars around the cafeteria/mess hall (whatever they are calling it over there). It will be difficult to maintain a healthy diet, especially when he switches to having to eat MREs, but skipping a meal is probably not something you want to do. It's definitely not something Mike can afford to do. I have horrible visions of him coming home as nothing more than one large sinew with sunken cheeks and eyes. But in 6 months, I will happily take that over any other option the universe might throw our way.

It hit me, when we got off the phone last night: this is really happening.

93 days.