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I try not to have opinions on things I don’t understand. Like American Football. I have no idea what the rules are or what makes a good player. My knowledge only goes as far as what the uniforms look like and that there is a weird shaped ball and you tackle people.  So if you’re going to ask me about football I’ll say, “Well I don’t really care for that sport- I don’t know anything about it.”

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The same goes for my knowledge about the military before I joined. All I knew was what I’ve seen from movies. People go to war and the military is our defense against everything.  Also they have tanks and planes and people jump out of them and everyone wears a uniform. Also they are called sergeants .  I grew up in a family that had nothing to do with the military. Even to this day no one in my family really understands it. But I do, and like my uncle I’ll tell you for the most part it can turn you into a better person. It’s definitely a unique experience you won’t understand unless you’ve been through it and it will change your life and perspective on things.

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Even after being enlisted for almost two years I can’t say I understand it fully. I have a different experience and everyone’s opinions differ. While some became extremely patriotic, I stayed the same on the matter. Proud to be an American? I haven’t done anything other than chance being born here. I could have been anyone and been born anywhere. It’s like saying I’m proud of being Hispanic. I didn’t accomplish anything as a Hispanic. I’m only proud of things I have done myself. I like where I came from- don’t get me wrong. I just don’t have that swelling pride like other people do.

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But if someone were to play a song and raise that flag the chances of me tearing up are pretty high. Because when I see that flag I don’t think of our country- I think of the people who walked alongside me and made the same oath as me. And they’re not here anymore. And I thank them for giving 100%. And every day I try my best to do the same.

When I think about the country that is Afghanistan I’m constantly feeling a tug at my heart. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard the words, “Give me a fucking bomb. I’ll bomb the shit out of this country and we can all go fucking home. Fuck them.”

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And I cringe.

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Why?

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I’ve heard men yell in agony, “Die for your own fucking country.  Fuck this shit. I’m fucking done.”

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And the next day one of them does.  And no one says anything.

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I’ve had kids who hate me throw rocks at me for being an American and rip up the writing paper I try to give to other children. I’ve had women refuse gifts from me in fear of their husbands. I’ve had men look at me strangely wondering why there is a woman in a line of over fifty men walking across the fields of Panjwa’i.

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But I’ve also had children thank me for what little I can give them. I’ve had woman ask me excitedly a million questions and tell me about how they want to learn. I’ve had woman attempt to give me their children so they can have better lives. I’ve had men ask me to look at their children in hopes I had some medicine. Men who welcome me into their home and offer me tea and bread. “What can I do for you?” They ask me. I am their honored guest. They tell me about their troubles and I listen to every word they say and offer any help I can give.

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I’ve had their army offer to carry my rucksack when it looked like I couldn’t walk anymore.  I just laughed and walked past them. “If I can’t share your burden then you won’t respect me. I am in the army just like you are in the army.” I tell them.

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At the end of the mission they shake my hand and tell me it was a pleasure working with me.

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And on the next missions I’m greeted as if I am a part of them and we walk everywhere and they tell me stories about their families and homes and ask me a million questions about my village and family. We watch each other’s back; they share everything and give you the shirt off their back if you needed it. It’s a special kind of bond you develop. I wish I didn’t have so much difficulty describing it because in my opinion it’s one of the most amazing things in the world.   

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A lot of the people don’t take the time to get to know someone. It is disappointing me for me because everyone basis their thoughts and ideas on hearsay. I can’t tell you how many times I hear things about a person only to find it untrue.

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It’s a tragedy how childish adults can be.

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Yesterday people were joking about my fellow Afghan Soldiers and how they couldn’t be trusted and how stupid they were. In my mind I think to myself about my Afghan comrades. They volunteered to serve for their country- does that not count for anything?

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Today my thoughts are all jumbled up.  There is nothing black and white about the world. It is all in shades of grey.