White Space

This phase of training is full of what the planners call "white space." Imagine an itinerary or schedule of events. The black space is scheduled time; white space is what is in-between and all around. When hundreds of people go through the same training at the same time, it is inevitable that you wait around for the rest of your cohort to begin or end the training evolutions. These waiting times are like layovers in airports: nothing really happens, time has little meaning, and you are surrounded by bored, harried, self-absorbed people.

Other time drains: our tents are a ten-minute walk from everything. Furthermore, some areas allow weapons (most), while some don't (gym, showers, and the like). However, you can never leave your weapons unattended, so accomplishing some things requires a battle buddy back in the tent doing weapons watch. This means that you are constantly going back and forth to the tents to relieve someone, drop something off, or recover your weapons. I'll be glad when this place is behind me and I have a more normal life in Afghanistan.

Some of the items left on the training schedule here include close quarters marksmanship (shooting in four man stacks, meaning that you're only inches away from your buddy blazing away while you are blazing away) and advanced convoy training. The reason why this training is "advanced" is because we have actors and fake towns to roll through as we encounter scenarios. In my case, they will be "advanced" because I'll sweat twice as much as in Ft. Jackson.

More white space: playing solitaire while waiting for internet pages to load. It sometimes takes 5, 10, or even twenty minutes for a single page to load. There are sometimes lines for the phones too.

I've lacked a lot of alone time for the past few weeks. There's a lot of enforced socializing in these settings with a lot of people and a lot of standing around. I feel less in touch with myself because of little reflection time. I am very much in reaction mode, dealing with things and people in the moment. This makes me me very grateful for my day job of being a professor: I have a lot of reflection time built into my days, and it is much easier to be self-aware and in control of my actions/thoughts at all times. Here, I find myself living in the moment, relying on instincts, personality, and occasionally character to drive me through the days. It's hard not to feel shallow, despite the inevitability of this mindset given the environment. When I get to my assignment in Afghanistan, I should have a bit more reflection time as I'm primarily supposed to be an analyst. That means research, thinking, and writing, sometimes in a team environment, but often on my own. I can't wait!