For the last couple weeks, I have been waiting for Daylight Savings Time to arrive. It has always been in October, but this year it is the first Sunday in November. I love Fall Daylight Savings Time because I get an extra hour to be lazy and sleep in. The Sunday of Daylight Savings Time is always a boon for Sunday School teachers as church attenders who forget, show up expecting church, but get to attend Sunday School instead. I may not have experienced the change to Daylight Savings Time, but I have moved from Manry Standard Time to Meloch Standard Time. Dale and I had friends in Germany who would arrive at events well after the start. When people would mention how late they were, they replied that they operated on Klinner Standard Time. I liked the concept and have observed many families who operate on their own personal time schedule. In Hawaii, people operated on Aloha Time and apparently in Iraq, Dale is experiencing Kurdish minutes. Our Aussie friend, Jed, calls the time in between starting to leave and actually departing, “the void”. Jed spends a lot of time in the void. Meloch Standard Time has many parts. There is Thrift Center Day, Prayer Meeting, and various episodes of Law and Order. Within the first 48 hours of my Moms arrival, my cabinets are rearranged, the laundry is washed, and something is broken. But the most important component to Meloch Standard Time is dinner at 5:30pm. Before my parents arrived, I told the kids that we would soon have 3 1/2 weeks of dinner at 5:30pm. To which Josiah replied, “and 3 1/2 weeks of the toilet seat being up.” When Dale and I first married, my Mom tried to tell me that Dale would expect dinner at 5:30pm. Dale was never even home at 5:30pm, and was either personally thankful that I bothered to make dinner even if we ate between 7:00pm and 8:00pm, or figured he better not comment and push his luck. In Meloch Standard Time, not only must dinner be eaten at 5:30pm, but planning for dinner must take place well in advance. Last week, my Mom and I spent the morning working in the yard. We were both tired and dirty when we stopped for lunch. As we walked into the house, my Mom asked me when I was going to start dinner. I had been planning on eating lunch, but soon found myself cutting up potatoes and browning a pot roast to put in the crock pot. I ate my lunch afterwards, I was on Meloch Standard time after all.
Last night, I went out to dinner with two friends visiting from out of town. When I returned home at 1030, Zeke was waiting up for me. I thought it was just his normal night owl sleep delay tactics, but I was wrong. He was waiting up to report his wrongdoing that occurred while I was gone. He came running up to give me a hug. Then, when I was carrying him up the stairs, he told me very seriously, “I breaka da I.” Thinking he was talking about the letter I puzzle piece, I asked him if he dropped it or smashed it or pulled it. He said he pulled it and I asked him what he did then. He replied, “I give it to Grandpa.” I asked if Grandpa fixed it and he said, “No. Grandpa no fix it.” I put him to bed, came downstairs, and my Mom gave me the debriefing. Ezekiel had somehow pulled the I key off of Dale’s laptop. So, he knew it was a serious I breaka da I and felt at the age of 3 that it was vital to “admit when you’ve done something wrong and take responsibility for your actions.” Apparently, my lectures have gotten through to one of my kids.
Recently I received a request for an interview from VAJoe.com. According to the VAJoe blog,
The VAJoe.com Blog is the gathering place for the U.S. military community to blog and comment on blogs about the war in Iraq, military news and benefits updates. We will feature interviews with popular military bloggers and guest blogs from well-known and respected bloggers.
You can read the interview by clicking here -> VAJoe Interview.
In the comments for a post, Janice asks “What is it like when you go to a job site with your security?” To answer her question, I’d like to describe USACE’s approach to construction management in Iraq. As I’ve mentioned previously, I never leave the wire without my personal security detachment (PSD). I have two types of teams that work for me. The team that takes me to site visits is a security escort team (SET). As the name suggests, the SET’s mission is to escort USACE personnel on missions outside the wire. The other type I haven’t mentioned before is called a reconstruction liaison team (RLT). The RLT visits sites without taking USACE personnel with them. They check out the security situation at a project site to see if it is safe for me to visit. More importantly, the RLT also attempts to establish a relationship with the locals that live near the projects as well as with the contractors working on the projects.
You may not realize it, but the contractors working on my projects are not Americans. As much as possible, we hire Iraqi construction firms to build Iraqi construction projects. While this is the right thing to do for the local economy, it does make communication with the contractors very difficult. On the RLT, I have interpreters. They are a key asset.
For the Al Shura site visit I posted previously, first I sent an RLT to the site to check out the area. When I received the RLT report, it said that the area was safe, but it also mentioned that the water treatment plant operator had some questions about the project. So I planned a site visit with my SET and requested to have the RLT team leader and interpreter on the visit as well. Since they had been there and talked to the operator, I knew they would be a big help on my site visit. For a site visit, when we arrive on site, the SET members get out and secure the perimeter. Once they establish that there are no immediate threats, then the USACE Engineers are able to get out of the vehicles to conduct any necessary project inspections.
In the picture below, Gene, the Project Engineer, is talking to the water treatment plant operator with the help of the RLT interpreter. A SET member is providing security in the background.
The key to success on a site visit is constant communication. I hope this answers Janice’s question!
Having procrastinated the floor cleaning, I was not ready when it came time to depart to pick up my parents from the airport. As all people who pull things out at the last minute can attest to, I can accomplish what I have delayed doing until the last minute, but there are always unforseen circumstances that catch me in the end. Right before I was set to leave, I logged on to check the flight status and was dismayed to discover that it was arriving 20 minutes early. I had arranged to pick my parents up at the curb and needed my cell (mobile) phone, so they could call me. There are families that park their cars, walk into the airport, carry balloons or flowers, hug in greeting, help with the luggage, and walk together to the car. Melochs are not one of those families. Picking up at the airport involves standing at the curb, catching a shuttle or a bus or if we’re feeling really gracious, a ride from someone we know. When I realized I was now 20 more minutes behind schedule, I grabbed my phone to make sure I could call my parents and let them know I was on my way. I discovered that the battery was dead and realized I had not yet purchased a car charger for my phone. I gave Josiah instructions to call my parents from home when their plane landed and tell them I was on my way. I had initially given myself an hour to get to the airport. Even with their flight arriving early, I thought I might just make it. I keep a small notebook in my purse that contains a myriad of information: phone numbers, restaurant recommendations, to do lists, directions, etc. I opened it up to the airport directions and started driving. I spend the majority of the first 6 months in a new location getting lost. (In Australia, I combined getting lost with occasionally driving on the wrong side of the road.) I followed my written directions and was soon approaching Reagan airport. At this point I realized that since my parents were flying into Dulles airport, I had been reading the wrong directions. I had taken the interstate through the middle of DC instead of following the one that curves around the west side. That’s alright I thought, I’m sure I’ll be able to figure out how to get over to Dulles from here. Abby and I then proceeded to go on an unplanned tour of D.C. and Maryland to view the Capital, the National Cathedral, and parts of D.C. I was pretty sure I shouldn’t stop in. At the end of our circumspect route, we entered the toll road to Dulles. When I drive this road, I believe the length of it grows. If they would just put signs on it giving the distance to the airport, it would help. The first sign could say: “100 miles to Dulles”. Then I’d drive ten more minutes and the next sign would say “99 miles to Dulles”. I know it is not that long of a road, but it feels like that long of a road. When my parents checked in for their flight, they had not been assigned seats next to each other, and they requested to be moved. In an unexpected blessing, they were moved to first class. They were really happy with the silverware, good food, dove bar, and comfy seats. Reality struck back quickly, however, as they stood on the curb and realized that there was no limo waiting for them.
