S.W.E.A.T.*

Yesterday, after having written the last two blog entries, I let myself be persuaded to go for a run. I'm not that fond of running, but the commanding officer here urged everyone to do some physical exercise each and every day. So be it. There is a running track in the camp: it follows the inner boundaries and is approximately 1011 metres long. I ran four laps and that's nothing to brag about, as my companion continued to run eight. What made me stop early was not the distance, but the temperature: 37 degrees in the shade. My heart rate was also much higher than usual, so I decided to go to the gym instead to do some push-ups and crunches and strech properly. The gym is in a tent which is not air-conditioned, so I ended up stretching in puddle of my own sweat.

Running in the camp, by the way, is forbidden in a tank top or other sleeveless shirt or without a shirt. This is out of respect towards the local employees (they have a different attitude towards nudity). T-shirt and shorts is ok, though.

Today was another hot day here in Mazar-e-Sharif. After 3 briefings on communications systems in the morning we had an attempt at patrolling in the desert outside town. The land is very dry, but last winter the floods from the mountains had pulled down two bridges. The outskirts of the city are extremely poor, but everyone had a friendly attitude towards us, especially the many children. Sometimes it's hard to belive your eyes. We witnessed a small motorcycle with no less than six passengers, including two toddlers, riding across the desert.

Upon returning to camp Northern Lights, I returned to my quarters, took off my equipment vest and body armour, and pulled off my shirt. It was soaking wet, again.

*) Shirt Wet Expectedly And Totally