A clean perspective

Wednesday 30 September 2009

Dark and thin and young and lovely,

The girl from Ipanema goes walking..

And when she passes, he smiles,

But she doesn’t see…she just doesn’t see.

- The Girl from Ipanema

Not being dark, thin, young, or lovely does have its advantages, one of them being that I do tend to notice things, especially over here. I’ve come to realize that comfort and privilege can warp your perspective, opacifying the lens through which you perceive the world around you and even interfering with the formation of fundamental values. At home, I live a life blessed with every possible creature comfort, many of which I just take for granted. Being in a place with, shall we say, diminished comforts and somewhat minimal privileges can be enlightening. It is amazing to me how one’s perceptions of pleasure and comfort can change so rapidly. Small, seemingly insignificant or irrelevant things are capable of providing great happiness in the right situation.

I’ve been traveling some with a full Colonel, and we have been searching forward operating bases throughout the theatre for a bar of soap. For some reason, you can’t buy a regular bar of soap at Bagram, right now. There is plenty of the gel and soft stuff, but this gentleman is kind of an effete New Englander and prefers an old-fashioned bar of soap. I can appreciate the old-school tendencies. Anyway, we finally found some at a FOB, recently, and beside himself with glee, he bought 5 bars- one for each of the next five months. I couldn’t surgically remove the smile off of this guy’s face, and despite a night spent listening to an artillery battery firing illumination rounds over the wire, he recounts that trip as the best one of our deployment. Now, I’m sure that three months ago, a trip to the drugstore to buy soap would have been an afterthought at best, a nuisance at worst. Here, it has been a highlight of the past month for him. The pleasure that he receives from that soap is now sincere, real.

I recently acquired a small rug to put on the floor between my bed and locker. I can’t tell you how many times it has crossed my mind as I get out of my rack that it is so nice to have a piece of carpet to step on. Would that ever occur to me at home?

I am thankful for this experience in many ways. Perhaps that most important of these is that I will return home with a much greater appreciation for the wonderful family, friends, and incredible life with which I’ve been blessed.