A Cautionary Tale

Down the line of shacks on the edge of Camp Blackhorse there's a small mod
structure with an aluminum exterior. It's equivalent to the portable offices you'd
find on construction sites. Above the door of this particular mod a fluorescent light
is kept on 24/7. Until a few months ago it acted the living quarters of a civilian
contractor working at the base.

Though information is thin, the basic facts are that he decided, on a day off, to go
into Kabul by himself. A while later his decapitated body was found. And so the light
remains on above the doorway as a small memorial to a life lost but also as a
cautionary tale to those who think Kabul is a place to go wondering around as a
tourist. It's a quiet, brutal reminder that there are people all around who may or
may not want to kill us.

And while quiet monuments to the fallen are taken as granted in this environment
this can easily be seen as a monument to folly.

Camp Blackhorse

Blackhorse is where my project really begins. In the first day: Roaming, super-friendly feral dogs, a Soviet Tank-park and Afghan recruit training.

As it turns out, both the dogs and the soldiers are pretty affable. The soldiers especially responded to the camera sort of like squirrels respond to nuts. That's a bit of a put down, unless you love squirrels.

Being a socially standoff-ish sort it was a real relief to find out how much the Afghans want to have their photos taken. It's then even more relevant to compare the relative disinterest of some of the Cdn. Soldiers to the camera. That's not to say the Canadians don't care, but the Afghans certainly prick up their ears and bust out the grins and hand signs when a camera swings in their direction. And maybe part of the contrast is that the Canadians are jealous, that, as I was told recently, they want to be down south with the fighting.

All of a sudden I feel much better about what's going to come of my deployment and it would be amiss to exclude thanks to the Canadian Officers and NCOs who have really made me feel welcome and helped me get going, especially considering I showed up in theatre missing some key documentation. 

Sunrise over Kabul

Just a short post as I'm about to leave Phoenix for Blackhorse (This is something I'm allowed to say).

Coming out of the PX from my morning Machiato I saw a ziplock bag with a set of false teeth (metal incisors) hanging on a cork-board.

It's pretty boring here, but I've been compensating by having the weirdest, most unsettling dreams.

But let us not speak of such things: Instead, a smoggy sunrise over Camp Phoenix (Plus some water bottles)

Honor First, Coffee Second

From the images I've posted so far, you'd think this place was abandoned. Besides the lovely, semi Brutalist-desert aesthetic that I find myself drawn to, there's the very practical issue of having to keep the privacy of the soldiers in mind. Folk in the background are fine and if I feel up to it I can ask individuals, but I have to be careful about placing humans in the frame without their permission. This is where the specifics of my project start to manifest themselves: namely, my reluctance to engage people who I don't know in conversation. This is repetition from earlier posts, but I think I'd make a lousy photojournalist.

However, I did ask the Mongolian band if I could take a couple of shots of them.

The most awesome uniforms so far are the Romanians when they wear their red and blue nylon PT gear. When I say that they look like armed football hooligans I assure you it's a compliment. I will do my best to take a shot of them, but cameras aren't allowed in the mess and that's the only place I've seen them.

Theatre Access

Today I received my ISAF ID and signed my embedded journalist documents.

With the new found ability to take photos on base I took a quick stroll around the back of my quarters.

When I leave here for the next base I think the shots will become more exciting, but I do like the ambiance of these images. It's too bad you can't smell the cigarette butts that accompany them.

The Haul into Theatre

Firstly, its important to state that I have to be careful what I type and what images I show. There are some pretty inflexible (but understandable) restrictions placed upon me in theatre. "Theatre" being Kabul.

We flew out of CFB Trenton aboard a C17 and by way of Germany and Kuwait made our way to Kabul. 7 hours, 5.5 hours and 4 hour legs respectively with stopovers for fuel and cargo.

The plane was super smooth the whole way and I imagined that a plane of this size and weight plows right through turbulence (making my phobia a non-issue).

When we crossed the border into Afstan, the red combat lighting came on and we were restricted to our seats in case evasive action was required. I've had several friends ask me if I'm nervous and as the red lights came on, I thought "nope, not yet."

From the sounds of it, once I get out of where I'm currently sequestered, the limits on photography will ease, but as I have yet to sit down with the PAfO (Public Affairs Officer) who'll tell me what I can and cannot photograph, there'll be no photos of the base.

Internet here ain't cheap and is a bit slow, but it is reliable so I'll post when I can.

Bye from the haze.

 

Creeping Death

Sometimes I just can't resist using Metallica song titles.
The departure clock ticks down, though I'm not sure if anything will happen come H-hour.
Dec. 14 remains my flight date, but the arrival of my special passport and visa may or may not precede the flight. if it don't, other measures will have to be entertained.

Let's think positive though. Yesterday I filled in my Life insurance policy. See below:

I'm feeling confident enough that I wrote to a friend in Kabul and told him I was coming. He's been at it long enough to know that even though I say, and am told, I'm coming,  there ain't no guarantees.

With self-serving interest I've been reading of the recent bomb attacks in Afghanistan. Skipping my sadness at the loss of human life, this is what I'm thinking:
"Hmm, some amount of action/carnage would be great, would make my trip feel "legitimate" but at the same time, if things are too hairy, CEFCOM might pull the plug." What I'm looking for, if I can be completely ruthless, is the right amount of violence.

The outrage you might feel towards me for typing the above is obviously justified, but if nothing else I'm trying to be honest. Segueing into talk of exhibitions, so far I have three venues confirmed for this project and am, accordingly, trying to get a handle on what these shows will look and read like.

If there's one constant in most of my practice it is an attempt to contextualize the gap between markers. Whether it be civvie and soldier or painting and photograph, it is the naming of a void that compels me.

So when I write about seeking the perfect amount of violence, see that such a statement manifesting the gap between what some find terrible and others find sublime.

And finally, I'm having a small going away party. If you've read down this far and can make it, please come out to Magpie in Toronto, Dec. 12 @1900hrs. If possible I'll get the bar to play The Pogues.