Normal Happens

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Some days everything just seems so “Normal”. The weather has become so unpredictable that it is normal. More days than not I leave my room in the morning and the sun is shining and the day holds promise only to be changed on a whim as the clouds blow in over the mountains and suddenly it is raining and the afternoon turns into a raging storm.

It’s normal to get up before the speakers play the morning rendition of revile. Heading out to the gym is not any easier than it was a few months ago. The state of the art gym equipment is always busy and I seem to always be tired. I must tell you that I never wanted it to be normal for me to spend so much time at the gym but over these past few months certain transitions have occurred. It really is a by- product of the entire deployment experience. As soon as you leave home, you lose your refrigerator and over a very short amount of time you begin to realize that you are being held hostage to your circumstances.

I started to miss the simple cravings like, block cheese….Ya, I know it sounds funny, but I really miss the capability to get up in the middle of the night, walk to the kitchen and cut off a big chunk of cheese and just nibble away. Then it was as if somebody left the lid off the cookie jar and I systematically ate all the cookies! Not only did I eat those cookies, but I ate all my friends’ cookies, plus all the cookies that many of you have sent in those fabulous boxes from home! So I’m really at that point in the deployment where I have realized that I will be home in four months or so, and so now I have been focused on new and exciting activities. You guessed it…….Exercise! Now that has become a very “normal” part of my day. Ugh..

It’s very normal for me to bee-bop to work and talk to everyone that I come into contact with. Some days it can take 30 minutes to make it from the front entry shack to my desk (distance is less than a football field!). It’s a good thing my boss is understanding of my chattiness or I’d surely drive him crazy. My days at work are filled with the normal things here in Kosovo. Meetings, planning logistical exercises, writing orders, more meetings. Every once in a while I get to go out and do a reconnaissance for new missions at various locations across Kosovo. So on this beautiful spring day as we departed Camp Bondsteel it would be the perceived normal colliding with Kosovo normal.

Three vehicles in our small convoy driving out the main gates and heading north. We weaved in and out of the morning traffic, rotating through the traffic circles and smelling the sweet aroma of trash fires alongside the road as we inched our way mile by mile towards our destination. I didn’t have to drive so I had the opportunity to just look. To take in the sights and really think about where we were. I could see the housewives putting their laundry out on the lines, where it would gently blow as the wind shifted from the east to the west. The kids were running around the yards just being kids and the dads were plowing up the fields in preparation for the upcoming planting season. My drive was starting to feel normal.

I have to challenge myself to keep the vigilance at the forefront of my environment. I try to remember that in reality we are serving in a region that is riddled with low levels of violence and that somewhere we may turn the corner and action may come upon us. At least that’s what we are reminded daily…”You are serving in an area where the situation is calm but fragile and has potential to be explosive.” I have yet to experience the adrenaline that goes with danger. This is good. So the normal is perseverance within. To not fall into the trap that time in a peacekeepers world brings to the table. Boredom, monotony and not maintaining a healthy sense of situational awareness always has potential that can lead to not maintaining a safety zone around yourself.

Normal in my world is traveling with my friends to strange and unique outposts where we send soldiers to spend days patrolling friendly neighborhoods or maybe they practice their riot control techniques on each other in very controlled environments. This time we are surveying a mountain top that offers the view of the world. We drive up and up and up, winding along the zig sagging road that switchbacks its’ way around the side of the desolate terrain. We pass horse drawn carts of many colors. Some have a real look to their cart and others are just wood planks that are barely representative of a means of transportation. The horses always look healthy and the owners are usually jovial towards us and maintain a sense of normality as all our vehicles quickly swerve around their slow paced vehicles.

I can’t help to wonder about the old man who is half way up the hillside just sitting on the slope looking out yonder as his cows graze on the spring grasses. How did he get there? Does he just march those cows five to ten miles up these dirt paths so that he gets to have the best pasture for a day? Is he lonely or does he whisper to himself and listen for the answers in the wind?

As we curve our way to the heavens, it is apparent that our altitude is surprisingly high as we see planes flying below us in the clouds. We rise above the tainted Kosovo air and inhale a fresh breath of clover and the aroma of the budding trees. It is as if we are escaping our little worlds of fences and high level security. We are visiting a place where it feels as normal as being home.

Our mission would have been unique to many but normal for the team that traveled together. The Irish provided a security escort to our location of interest (not because of the danger, but because of our lack of knowing where in the world we were going!). The American team of planners represented operations, food service, communications, logistics and preventative medicine. Bedfellows of different backgrounds, but necessary for the holistic perspective of the mission. All of us were providing an essential form of preparation for the upcoming events for the Ukraine soldiers. We have grown very accustomed to all our many countries in the Battle Group that even language barriers are no longer feared. We all just try a little harder and find various words that are universal in meaning.

But a different as we may seem to others is as the same as we all truly are. Up on that hilltop the commonality was realized. The friendliness of an animal becomes the worldwide symbol for something that reminds us all of home. The local dog came over to the American and got just as much attention as when he went and visited the Ukraine. “Come here puppy” said in three different languages must have sounded the same through the ears of the dog as he didn’t show any favoritism to any particular country representative. But to really simplify things, he was a Kosovar dog and probably didn’t understand a word any of us said, but knew that kindliness didn’t need a language but just needed sincerity.

As we began our journey home it was pleasant to witness tourism by others than ourselves. To observe Ukrainian soldiers who are only short generations removed from the days of the Russian Revolution, Communism and countries divided by politics, enjoy themselves for short bursts of time. To see Igor and Vladimir smile and wave at the local kids as they drive by the farmsteads and village street side shopping marts. We enjoyed the moment’s right after they would stop on the side of the hill and all pile out of their vehicle and take turns snapping pictures of each other in front of the windmills and other picturesque views. To think, our many Armies of the past are famous in memory only, while most of our young soldiers can only read about them in history books, some of us are old enough to remember the ancient threats of the Cold War.

How normal it feels for all of us over here to be working towards the same endstate. To be a part of the peace process and to somehow know that when all is said and done and the Kosovo mission is a thing of the past, that we all contributed to the future of this young country. That some child that plays on the playground today will recollect the positive impact that soldiers of many nations had on their future.

So as the day ends and we all realize that “Normal Happens”, it is a good feeling that eventually we will all feel the effects and realize that true to the mannerisms of change…

…“Peace will someday become normal”

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