A Bone To Pick

Spotted just east of the Kandahar International Airport ramp today.

I’ve had a pleasant surprise and an unpleasant surprise over the last few days. But first, a picture of the completely unsurprising broken down Toyota Surf of the month (or perhaps week).

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Goodbyes, Pizza and a Birthday

Presentation is Everything!

Our Canadian military contract is coming to an end. We’ve worked very closely with our military friends over the last couple of years and, while we’re sorry to see them go, I’m sure their families are happy they’re coming home. To mark the occasion, the unit had a pizza party back at their barracks. Being the good corporate citizens that we are, T and I offered to pay for the pizza. De, our visiting compadre from corporate HQ thought this was a great idea, until we told him we didn’t have any money on hand and made him pay using the company project cash he had brought along. T and I are very generous with other people’s money, it’s just the kind of great guys we are.

The pizza came from the pizza place on the Boardwalk. Just to be clear, we have two pizza places on the boardwalk. There’s the Italian-style thin crust sit down place and the American-style, thicker crust take-out place. I can’t remember the name of either one as I sit typing this in my room and going out to the Boardwalk to get the names is too much like research. In case you haven’t noticed, this blog is about my opinion…I’m not that interested in actual facts. Anyway, we had the American-style take away in three varieties including the ubiquitous pepperoni.

In general, I’d give the pizza a rating of KAF-good but there are a couple of things I don’t get: cheese and chicken. Ok, I’ve heard of cheese pizzas back home. I’ve seen them on menus. I’m sure some people order them. BUT THAT DOESN’T MAKE IT RIGHT! “Hello waiter, I’ll have a cheese pizza, a glass of water and, oh what the heck, I’m feeling adventurous, perhaps a small bowl of vanilla ice cream for dessert”. Cheese and sauce on dough is not a pizza. Just stop it.

Chicken Pizza after a ride over KAF roads

Thank you Mister Frank!

Now, the chicken pizza. Ok, at least there is something on it. But chicken? Too add insult to injury, it was of the precooked, rubbery tasteless variety. Sure, I ate two pieces of it but only due to the miracle of Louisana hot sauce. Loud cries of “Hot Sauce” ran up and down the table as demand grew for the one bottle someone had received from home.

The party organizers did a great job! There were mystery presents handed out to everyone and we were each given the opportunity to trade with anyone else prior to opening them. I got a poo-pond t-shirt while one poor sap traded away his gift for pogs (what passes for coins in KAF). There were some extra gifts so they drew names for those. Both T and I won Tim Horton’s Kandahar travel mugs. My anniversary is coming up in a few days….I guess I won’t need to do any shopping!

Ice Cream cake at 40C. Where the heck did they get it?

We were also celebrating the birthday of the military supply technician so Sergeant D and Master Corporal B had somehow arranged an ice cream cake for the occasion. The birthday boy said “There is nothing better than spending your birthday with family…and I’m doing that right now”. I couldn’t have captured the mood of the party any better.

 

Have a safe journey home my Canadian Forces friends. I’ll stay here and hold down the fort. Sigh…