When you step on the helicopter that is about to fly you away from a place that has been home for six-months, I’d like to tell you it is sentimental and joyous all at the same time. The truth is – it doesn’t seem to register.
My friends and the people I’d been serving and working alongside for months all came out to see us off and to help carry bags out to the helicopter. We’d spent four days celebrating our departure by eating at every non-DFAC option like the Embassy Afghan dining hall, the Thai Restaurant (my favorite) and more.
We’d held our awards ceremony, mailed A LOT of stuff and said our goodbyes. Somehow though when I stepped aboard the helicopter wearing my full kit and helmet for the last time, it just didn’t register.
My friend Jackie Faye tapped me on the should before I pulled myself aboard and hugged me tightly. My friend Pete actually had to step into the helicopter to shake my hand. It was at that moment I realized I hadn’t even thought to turn around to say goodbye to these people that had been my lifeline for the past few months.
As we pulled up into the air I stretched my neck trying to look down at the small piece of Kabul that had been my “place.” As we headed towards the mountains that marked our departure from Kabul and our approach to Bagram, I couldn’t help but blow a kiss back to the city that holds so much.
I wish I could tell you that my time there had witnessed a monumental improvement. That the “war is over.” That the Afghan people are living in a peace they so richly deserve.
Instead, I can tell you that I met Afghans my age and a few years younger that crave a modern, peaceful country that holds opportunity and potential. They are inspiring. From women running 250 km to prove they can, to men and women at the Ministry of Defense working hard to showcase the sacrifices and success of their military service members, of which much is demanded – they are the Afghan that carry my hope.
It wasn’t at all what I expected. If you ask me today, “What did you expect Lesley?” I’m not sure I could tell you. Maybe more war, less protective walls.
All I know is that I had this opportunity, one that I won’t take for granted.
