There has been few times in which I have almost vomited while in a car. I think the first time was on a trip to Yosemite when I was 8. Ford Taurus, driving up around something-Dome, my dad stopped, I opened the door car door behind him, kneeled down on the gravel and blew chunks. It had rained recently - typical afternoon thunderstorm, still cluttering the sky with dark clouds. Although, I guess that could have been my brother, but I know I was there.
Then there was Oscar and Jen's wedding. It was 4:30, I discovered I could chug beer the night before, and 16 hours later I was not doing so well. It was an improvement, because I had slept that night on the bathroom floor, because the cold tile felt nice on my face. Around 4:30, however, I was in the back of a limo driving a small road into the Rocky Mountains. Driver stopped, I shuffle over to a closed gas station, and try to hurl while overlooking a serenely beautiful river. It didn't work, so we got back into the limo, and I didn't improve much for the rest of the evening.
The only other time, was yesterday. I hadn't slept much the night before, had a frustrating and very busy morning in the Islamabad office, and then hopped into a Landcruiser two hours late. Luckily, Zeechan was driving. He's a young Pattan, from up in the mountains towards Gilgit. I can't quite put a bead on him. He seems like a really nice punk who is very sincere, but as weaved a few stories around him that just might not be true. But he is nice. He can drive fast, but he is also the worst driver I have ever experienced. Absolutely terrible and compiled with the Landcruiser being a stick shift, I was not in a good way as we left Islamabad, which has its streets laid out in a nice grid pattern - straight, long, minimal stops.
We were headed up to Muzaffarabad, which is at the center of all the operations here. It’s a provincial capital, and the main hub of Azad Jamma Kashmir (Free Kashmir...according to the Pakistanis who control it). It’s a big town, with two major valley systems emptying into it, and another two just around the corner. The first two, are the Neelum and Jhelum Valleys. The epicenter of the quake was about 15 kilometers up the Neelum (NE of town), but the Jhelum (SE) was hit awfully hard as well. Both these valleys are sandwiched by the Kaghan Valley and Bagh which were nailed too. Muzaffarabad is the largest relief hub, and the town, even though it was devastated, has had a huge influx of folks looking for help (we call them IDPs [Internally Displaced Persons], but they're refugees when it comes down to it). The airport outside of town has become exclusively used for the relief operation, using rotary craft (helos, choppers, birds, etc.). It’s impressive to see the stats for the tonnage moved through here because it is massive. And it is surrounded by the steepest mountains I've ever seen.
It’s these mountains we had to drive over yesterday. We started at about 1675ft, got almost up to 7000ft, in about 45 minutes, and then dropped back down to 2000ft and drove up the Jhelum River. Most maps don’t have the road on them, but it’s a nice one (for Pakistan). Where the road hasn't had a landslide or any subsistence, it’s paved and fairly smooth. Driving through towns most the way, but the only name I picked up was Kohala. I'd reckon that most of Islamabad's chicken supply comes down from that road. Here, the keep the chickens in what look like apartment buildings, with wire mesh for windows and straw on the ground. No cages inside, so the chickens can wander around like they're at a conference. Not too stinky. The ones that do stink are the small ones, mixed in with the shops as you drive through a town's market strip. Same size as the shops around them, and like those shops, there are no windows, no light, just a door that opens when the chicken person is there. Maybe twenty chickens in the small places, and 200 in the larger ones. Oh, and Bird Flu popped up yesterday in NWFP (Northwest Frontier Province), according to local sources. First incident recorded, which unfortunately happened to involve someone dying from it. From the internet, it appears that news agencies aren't reporting it yet, other than rumors of it being in Lahore, and that chicken prices are dropping down to 70 rupees a kilo.
It was a beautiful drive, except for Zeechan, who drove it as fast as he could, but would slam on the breaks at the slightest hint of a bump in the road. So, he'd floor it for 5 seconds, slam on the breaks, drive slowly over a very, very small crack in the road, and then floor it for 5 seconds, slam on the breaks, over and over again. The back of my head hurts from the headrest. Halfway through the drive, Zeechan started driving even worse. 10 minutes into it, he tells me he ahs to go pee, and he is driving faster so he can find an appropriate place to do that. That appropriate place turns out to be someone's driveway, just down the street from an open-air restaurant.
Funny thing about local men here: they squat down to pee. I don't know how they do this, because that position seems very, very precarious. It’s not like they drop their pants or anything. Just the zipper. Well, I guess I am guessing that it’s just the zipper. It’s not like I inspected his business or anything. Sure, guys can walk down the street holding hands like they do in San Francisco, but I think there is a line.
That line, however, became even more interesting last night. When I got to Muzaffarabad, I met up with the two UNJLC guys here, Kevin and Alastair. Both good kiwis. After dinner and some work, we decided to hustle over to the recreation tent, which was empty, and watch a DVD. Towards the end of it, come other guys come in to join us: three local Pakistani chaps. At the end, Kevin and Alastair leave, and I stay as I was chatting with Hilary. One of the Pakistanis puts in a movie, "Jugheads," but none of them seem very interested in it and have a hard time following it. After 10 minutes, the guy closest to me turns and says, "We Pakistanis like love movies." He and I go on talking for a bit, as he explains to me that since Pakistani men have to travel away from home for jobs, they miss their families, wives and girlfriends. It’s the romance, love movies that help them make it through each day...because Pakistanis understand love.
This "Jugheads" movie was just in until the rest of their friends could show up and sure enough, 3 more guys came in and sat down. And what was it? "My Thick Black Ass #8." In Pakistan, the following applies:
Love Movie = Porn
Romance Movie = Porn
In case you are ever confused in Pakistan, refer to that. Unfortunately, it was getting late, and it was time to call Hilary. I politely excused myself from my porn friends, who became quite embarrassed. They were worried I was ashamed of their tastes, and disappointed in them. I did my best to assure them that I was not, and that I too knew where they were coming from because my fiancé is in Iraq. And it’s not like I'm against porn, who is?! In short, I tried to smooth things over nicely, but I think I may have said something to which they are expecting me to join them tonight for their next porn session. I got to admit...I would be a great cultural exposure. How many of you can say they watched, uh...well, I'll just stop now.
I should probably change the topic somehow. Well, I didn't vomit in the car. I forced myself to go to sleep so I could ignore the whole thing. It worked, and I woke up as we drove across the plank bridge into Muzaffarabad. I still wanted to puke, but I made it to the camp, and spent the evening feeling terrible.
Why am I in Muzaffarabad? Mainly, it is because my GIS team just got a vehicle. One of our main responsibilities is to map the roads in the area. Before, there were no quality road maps of the area. It really was all trash. All the GIS data was terrible as well, even the stuff produced by the US Defense Department. The Russians didn't have much either, but I've compiled everything I could back in November, threw it all together and tried to remove any duplicates. It’s worked for a bit, but it still isn't worthy of much. Despite that...all the locals have told us we've got the best road maps they've ever seen of the area. We're trying to improve that. To do so, we've for the novel concept of driving those roads with a GPS unit. The problem is the United Nations. When in the field, UN staff can only drive in MOSS compliant vehicles. These are SUVs with VHF, HF, and CODAN radio equipment, big antennas, UN logos on them, winches, spare fuel, overnight kit inside, etc. UNJLC does not own any of these, and have been relying on other agencies to loan them vehicles to use. These agencies have recently begun taking back their vehicles, mainly through a chump named Simon. I've never met a Simon I've had respect for, so don't name your kids Simon. But anyways, when we do have a vehicle, it’s slated for use by our field logistics officers, since they need them the most. Thereby, if we want to map something, we have to rely on our field officers to have free time. This means that our improved map data is slow to create.
This slowness has become a major issue. Not a fault of ours, but more a fault of the operation. We've over utilized helicopters to move relief goods to the field. Helicopters are fast and sexy, but they also take about $11,000 or more to fly a sortie. Whereas a truck, for the same trip, would cost about $36 per ton. Those trucks are pretty sweet too. Not some silly 18-wheeler tractor trailer. Nope. We're calling them "Jinglies" here. Big trucks, beefy and dirty looking, but decorated in their entirety. Paintings, calligraphy, carved wooden doors, head pieces, coins and chains dangling everywhere, stylish hubcaps, everything. All owned by local individuals. Its money directly into the local economy, as opposed to sexy aviation fuel and ex-commie pilots.
Okay now, because helicopters are so expensive, we've run out of money. The helicopters are being pulled back and we need to move things by road more. We just need better road maps (need is used loosely), so we can direct cargo movements more effectively. We looked out the other day, and a vehicle arrived on our doorstep for us to use. The next day, I hopped in, with Zeechan, and off we went so I can drive as many roads in the Kashmir as I can.
Like always, this is more difficult than it should be. The UN has a group called DSS (Department of Security and Safety..?), whose sole job allots to pissing people off and now allowing them to do their jobs. Because of DSS, I can't do my job today, because in town there might be a protest. Might. This has been ongoing for the past three weeks. Camp lockdowns, even in Islamabad. Red-No-Go zones being used more frequently, which means we can't drive places. We can't drive there until DSS goes and assesses the road, but they are understaffed and don't get our frequently. Oh, but the UN can hire local staff to drive those roads...its just that the roads are not safe enough for international staff. Ideally, I'll be finding some roads to use as second and third alternatives, in case DSS throws a wrench into everyone's operation.
Yup, so I'm bored today, and I have time to write in a blog and do some Cartisan work. But I'd also like to go get some dudhpati (chai, with goats milk) to keep me awake, and to keep up the mojo. And the rain has stopped too, which is good. That means not only will I not get wet, but that hopefully there will be less landslides on the roads I want to drive. Oh, and hopefully less landslides through towns and people.
I'd post pictures, but KodakGallery is 5 ways of slow, so maybe tomorrow.
Then there was Oscar and Jen's wedding. It was 4:30, I discovered I could chug beer the night before, and 16 hours later I was not doing so well. It was an improvement, because I had slept that night on the bathroom floor, because the cold tile felt nice on my face. Around 4:30, however, I was in the back of a limo driving a small road into the Rocky Mountains. Driver stopped, I shuffle over to a closed gas station, and try to hurl while overlooking a serenely beautiful river. It didn't work, so we got back into the limo, and I didn't improve much for the rest of the evening.
The only other time, was yesterday. I hadn't slept much the night before, had a frustrating and very busy morning in the Islamabad office, and then hopped into a Landcruiser two hours late. Luckily, Zeechan was driving. He's a young Pattan, from up in the mountains towards Gilgit. I can't quite put a bead on him. He seems like a really nice punk who is very sincere, but as weaved a few stories around him that just might not be true. But he is nice. He can drive fast, but he is also the worst driver I have ever experienced. Absolutely terrible and compiled with the Landcruiser being a stick shift, I was not in a good way as we left Islamabad, which has its streets laid out in a nice grid pattern - straight, long, minimal stops.
We were headed up to Muzaffarabad, which is at the center of all the operations here. It’s a provincial capital, and the main hub of Azad Jamma Kashmir (Free Kashmir...according to the Pakistanis who control it). It’s a big town, with two major valley systems emptying into it, and another two just around the corner. The first two, are the Neelum and Jhelum Valleys. The epicenter of the quake was about 15 kilometers up the Neelum (NE of town), but the Jhelum (SE) was hit awfully hard as well. Both these valleys are sandwiched by the Kaghan Valley and Bagh which were nailed too. Muzaffarabad is the largest relief hub, and the town, even though it was devastated, has had a huge influx of folks looking for help (we call them IDPs [Internally Displaced Persons], but they're refugees when it comes down to it). The airport outside of town has become exclusively used for the relief operation, using rotary craft (helos, choppers, birds, etc.). It’s impressive to see the stats for the tonnage moved through here because it is massive. And it is surrounded by the steepest mountains I've ever seen.
It’s these mountains we had to drive over yesterday. We started at about 1675ft, got almost up to 7000ft, in about 45 minutes, and then dropped back down to 2000ft and drove up the Jhelum River. Most maps don’t have the road on them, but it’s a nice one (for Pakistan). Where the road hasn't had a landslide or any subsistence, it’s paved and fairly smooth. Driving through towns most the way, but the only name I picked up was Kohala. I'd reckon that most of Islamabad's chicken supply comes down from that road. Here, the keep the chickens in what look like apartment buildings, with wire mesh for windows and straw on the ground. No cages inside, so the chickens can wander around like they're at a conference. Not too stinky. The ones that do stink are the small ones, mixed in with the shops as you drive through a town's market strip. Same size as the shops around them, and like those shops, there are no windows, no light, just a door that opens when the chicken person is there. Maybe twenty chickens in the small places, and 200 in the larger ones. Oh, and Bird Flu popped up yesterday in NWFP (Northwest Frontier Province), according to local sources. First incident recorded, which unfortunately happened to involve someone dying from it. From the internet, it appears that news agencies aren't reporting it yet, other than rumors of it being in Lahore, and that chicken prices are dropping down to 70 rupees a kilo.
It was a beautiful drive, except for Zeechan, who drove it as fast as he could, but would slam on the breaks at the slightest hint of a bump in the road. So, he'd floor it for 5 seconds, slam on the breaks, drive slowly over a very, very small crack in the road, and then floor it for 5 seconds, slam on the breaks, over and over again. The back of my head hurts from the headrest. Halfway through the drive, Zeechan started driving even worse. 10 minutes into it, he tells me he ahs to go pee, and he is driving faster so he can find an appropriate place to do that. That appropriate place turns out to be someone's driveway, just down the street from an open-air restaurant.
Funny thing about local men here: they squat down to pee. I don't know how they do this, because that position seems very, very precarious. It’s not like they drop their pants or anything. Just the zipper. Well, I guess I am guessing that it’s just the zipper. It’s not like I inspected his business or anything. Sure, guys can walk down the street holding hands like they do in San Francisco, but I think there is a line.
That line, however, became even more interesting last night. When I got to Muzaffarabad, I met up with the two UNJLC guys here, Kevin and Alastair. Both good kiwis. After dinner and some work, we decided to hustle over to the recreation tent, which was empty, and watch a DVD. Towards the end of it, come other guys come in to join us: three local Pakistani chaps. At the end, Kevin and Alastair leave, and I stay as I was chatting with Hilary. One of the Pakistanis puts in a movie, "Jugheads," but none of them seem very interested in it and have a hard time following it. After 10 minutes, the guy closest to me turns and says, "We Pakistanis like love movies." He and I go on talking for a bit, as he explains to me that since Pakistani men have to travel away from home for jobs, they miss their families, wives and girlfriends. It’s the romance, love movies that help them make it through each day...because Pakistanis understand love.
This "Jugheads" movie was just in until the rest of their friends could show up and sure enough, 3 more guys came in and sat down. And what was it? "My Thick Black Ass #8." In Pakistan, the following applies:
Love Movie = Porn
Romance Movie = Porn
In case you are ever confused in Pakistan, refer to that. Unfortunately, it was getting late, and it was time to call Hilary. I politely excused myself from my porn friends, who became quite embarrassed. They were worried I was ashamed of their tastes, and disappointed in them. I did my best to assure them that I was not, and that I too knew where they were coming from because my fiancé is in Iraq. And it’s not like I'm against porn, who is?! In short, I tried to smooth things over nicely, but I think I may have said something to which they are expecting me to join them tonight for their next porn session. I got to admit...I would be a great cultural exposure. How many of you can say they watched, uh...well, I'll just stop now.
I should probably change the topic somehow. Well, I didn't vomit in the car. I forced myself to go to sleep so I could ignore the whole thing. It worked, and I woke up as we drove across the plank bridge into Muzaffarabad. I still wanted to puke, but I made it to the camp, and spent the evening feeling terrible.
Why am I in Muzaffarabad? Mainly, it is because my GIS team just got a vehicle. One of our main responsibilities is to map the roads in the area. Before, there were no quality road maps of the area. It really was all trash. All the GIS data was terrible as well, even the stuff produced by the US Defense Department. The Russians didn't have much either, but I've compiled everything I could back in November, threw it all together and tried to remove any duplicates. It’s worked for a bit, but it still isn't worthy of much. Despite that...all the locals have told us we've got the best road maps they've ever seen of the area. We're trying to improve that. To do so, we've for the novel concept of driving those roads with a GPS unit. The problem is the United Nations. When in the field, UN staff can only drive in MOSS compliant vehicles. These are SUVs with VHF, HF, and CODAN radio equipment, big antennas, UN logos on them, winches, spare fuel, overnight kit inside, etc. UNJLC does not own any of these, and have been relying on other agencies to loan them vehicles to use. These agencies have recently begun taking back their vehicles, mainly through a chump named Simon. I've never met a Simon I've had respect for, so don't name your kids Simon. But anyways, when we do have a vehicle, it’s slated for use by our field logistics officers, since they need them the most. Thereby, if we want to map something, we have to rely on our field officers to have free time. This means that our improved map data is slow to create.
This slowness has become a major issue. Not a fault of ours, but more a fault of the operation. We've over utilized helicopters to move relief goods to the field. Helicopters are fast and sexy, but they also take about $11,000 or more to fly a sortie. Whereas a truck, for the same trip, would cost about $36 per ton. Those trucks are pretty sweet too. Not some silly 18-wheeler tractor trailer. Nope. We're calling them "Jinglies" here. Big trucks, beefy and dirty looking, but decorated in their entirety. Paintings, calligraphy, carved wooden doors, head pieces, coins and chains dangling everywhere, stylish hubcaps, everything. All owned by local individuals. Its money directly into the local economy, as opposed to sexy aviation fuel and ex-commie pilots.
Okay now, because helicopters are so expensive, we've run out of money. The helicopters are being pulled back and we need to move things by road more. We just need better road maps (need is used loosely), so we can direct cargo movements more effectively. We looked out the other day, and a vehicle arrived on our doorstep for us to use. The next day, I hopped in, with Zeechan, and off we went so I can drive as many roads in the Kashmir as I can.
Like always, this is more difficult than it should be. The UN has a group called DSS (Department of Security and Safety..?), whose sole job allots to pissing people off and now allowing them to do their jobs. Because of DSS, I can't do my job today, because in town there might be a protest. Might. This has been ongoing for the past three weeks. Camp lockdowns, even in Islamabad. Red-No-Go zones being used more frequently, which means we can't drive places. We can't drive there until DSS goes and assesses the road, but they are understaffed and don't get our frequently. Oh, but the UN can hire local staff to drive those roads...its just that the roads are not safe enough for international staff. Ideally, I'll be finding some roads to use as second and third alternatives, in case DSS throws a wrench into everyone's operation.
Yup, so I'm bored today, and I have time to write in a blog and do some Cartisan work. But I'd also like to go get some dudhpati (chai, with goats milk) to keep me awake, and to keep up the mojo. And the rain has stopped too, which is good. That means not only will I not get wet, but that hopefully there will be less landslides on the roads I want to drive. Oh, and hopefully less landslides through towns and people.
I'd post pictures, but KodakGallery is 5 ways of slow, so maybe tomorrow.
posted by B at 10:29 AM
2 Comments:
Brody, I was sent this by another JLC person, regarding having vehicles from UNOPS was not an option for you, donors require vehicles they have paid for to work on their projects. UNOPS did lend you some for 2 months; you should have had a manager who knew something about aid work. Also funny that you never wanted to go out in the field until 3 months after the actual event please don't post comments about people who you would like to blame for your work or lack of it. I would have thought you would have kept that particular experience to yourself, after what happened in the end with you and the UN?
"Anonymous", have some damned respect for yourself.
Are you serious? Who goes to my blog to attempt to insult me, belittle my work, degrade someone else unconnected with my blog, or even to negate my personal writings?
Are you really serious?? Don't read my blog. You're a chump. I got all sorts of particulars I can share, but I don't. I'll just call you a chump, leave it at that, and let you go back to whatever it is that you do, minus your silly personal vandettas that you have. In fact, maybe you should just go to www.cuteoverload.com. Get off my blog.
I will, just for the sake of how much I appreciate you, which was never that much, respond to some of your silly comments.
Never went to the field in the first three months? Excuse me? I was in the field two weeks after arriving in country. Did I stay? No, because GIS work could be done more successfully while working in Islamabad. Maps and data products were still reliably delivered to all the field locations, including more than 60 relevant organizations. If I were based in the field, I would not have been capable of printing a map. Would you expect a lifeguard to successfully do their job in the Atacama Desert?
Blaming someone for my work or lack of it? Whoa tough guy, I did excellent work that I am proud of. I, and many others, busted our asses.
I'd do it again, but you know what? I've taken my skills, work ethic, and time to other opportunities where I continue to make a difference. I'm good at what I do, and I work where I am wanted and needed. I work with high-caliber colleagues, I create products that are internationally recognized, I get paid handsomely, and I don't spend time with the likes of you. What happened to me? Nothing that I can complain about.
So now, if you want to complain, if you want to insult, and if you want to act like a little pissy pants, don't do it here. You're a chump. I did not write this blog for chumps.
And a good day to you.
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