Tastes Like Chicken

It is "the windy season" in Bagram, Afghanistan. The Airfield is basically situated in the bottom of the "bowl" of the mountains. Much like a baggy-pantsed skaterboarder on a half-pipe, the wind gathers momentum on its way down the mountain sides then gathers speed as it cruises across the Air Field to get enough velocity to make it up the other side of the mountain.

Remember we have no dirt here? Only talcom-powder-like dust? I finally realize the value of nose hairs.

Oh. My. Goodness. The talcom-powder dust gets everywhere. Ever been to the beach and gotten sand in your swimsuit? MMMHMMMM. I have seriously considered ordering a motorcycle helmet with visor. To those of you who are thinking, "lady, ever heard of eye protection for keeping out sand?", I say, "I got your 'eye protection' right here! What about my teeth? My hair? Did I mention my teeth?" Bet you didn't know that dust is "chewy" did you?

Speaking of teeth, when I was a kid anytime my mom wanted me to try some weird meat like rabbit or squirrel or frog legs (I grew up in the country, okay!) when pressed for details regarding the taste, she would always tell me, "it tastes like chicken."

A few days ago I was at a luncheon of home-cooked food hosted by some of the Linguists who work for the military as interpreters on the project. It was a feast - even for a vegetarian (which I've been for the last 12 years)! Lentils, eggplant, rice, vegetables, a big hunk of meat in a pot with a bunch of stuff in it that all the carnivores at the lunch oooohed and aaaaaahed over - a feast, I tell you. I was sitting next to an Afghan citizen who asked me, in what was admittedly limited english but good enough to communicate with each other over lunch, what my lentils tasted like. That's actually sort of a tough question to answer even for someone who speaks my language well, so I did my best to explain the taste of lentils. We both smiled at the inadequateness of my ability to do so, but it was a shared laugh and he appreciated my efforts. I, of course, in turn asked him, "and how is your lunch?" To which he responded by looking at the big hunk of goat meat on his plate and offering, "it tastes a leeetle beeet the same like chicken."

No Lie.