Dark Chronicles of Nooria 19
"Tell me," nurse asks the British doctors at the pizza party, "your ah female members. How do they do, addictions wise? Better than the men?"
"Sad to say, just as bad. We've achieved equality you see. Years ago, there was a sort of social pressure which slowed women down. Seems to have disappeared. They're now perfectly free to follow the siren song of addiction, just like the other half of the species. Lotta cases, it's worse. Smaller body to dilute the substance."
This is no shock to me, I do come from Saskatoon via Lilac Valley.
Nurse asks, "so what's the main dimension you spot in drug abuse?"
"Seems to revolve around Type A and Type B personalities. Type A gets bored a lot quicker. After all, soldiering is a lot more boring than the movies make it seem. Type A, high addiction rate. Type B, level-headed sort, mostly a few pints with the lads, leave it at that. If I were in charge of recruitment, I'd choose mostly Type B."
Nurse grins, "doesn't work that way, does it? Mostly Type A applies in the first place."
All three laugh.
Doctor, "I'm afraid it all comes down to money. You can endlessly blather on about quote recruiting a better class of soldier. In the end, there isn't one pound extra in the budget to do it. So ultimately, you end up with 2 classes. One, total misfit anywhere else, seeking a refuge. These come from all strata of society. Two, those merely poor, seeking a start in life. But of course, some of those poor will have the same flaws as the others. And once steady pay starts coming, addictions appear which weren't there before. Still, as our friend Nooria so kindly points out, that is why we get the big salary."
They all laugh.
Nurse sighs, "talk about your ultimate contradiction in terms. Everytime you think you've got her figured, there is something else. How did you actually manage? Four days of all those byzantine alleyways."
Grin, "I like her. Dragon yet a lamb. Devil yet an angel. Adult yet a child. Rather her than the boring sort."
"Don't imagine many of our girls were boring to you."
"Heavens no. It's true what they say, Afghan women are the roughest toughest women on the planet. These, still apprenticing, soon get there. And since it takes a lion to lead lions, I wouldn't be too surprised if Nooria ends up your Commander-in-Chief."
Nurse agrees, "she does have that air."
Doctor smiles, "want the real truth? How I tracked behind her? My husband's best friend is battalion commander of 2 Para. It's stunning, but she says a lot of the same things he does. Very similar patterns of thought. So, used to following him in conversation, Nooria wasn't really that hard. Eerie, in anyone so young; especially so in a girl."
Nurse smiles uneasily, "yeah, was thinking the same myself, lots during the four days."
"Nuff shop talk, more pizza?"
Officer Cadet meeting, Lt asks why I missed the last one.
"Ma'am, was the British doctors, with me from breakfast til near lights out."
She sniffs, "got rules. Miss and you get the envelope next time."
I could argue but why bother? Another clown show. Bring it on. So much more fun to strafe it, shoot it full of holes myself than watching the others.
"You are commander of a space vessel, circa year 2200. You've crash-landed on a planet 50,000 light-years from Earth. All the initial survival problems have now been sorted, for better or worse. Com equipment totally dis. You've found food and water, prepared shelters, established there are no dangerous predators. With these concerns sorted, your crew is restive, bored. What action do you propose?"
"I could play Captain Bligh. But then I'd soon be messily dead. Emergency over, a new society is establishing itself. Dictatorship only works well during emergency, rarely does well in normal civil society. Let's establish democracy, rules of voting, egalitarian wealth sharing, use everyone's skills, give people a sense of belonging. 50,000 light-years, we aren't gonna be rescued soon. Better to be an ordinary citizen in a peaceful regime than a dead captain."
I look, see all thumbs go up.
Lt shakes her head, "uncanny, like you gotta sixth sense Nooria. Always come out on the sensible side. Don't fall into traps the others do. Wonder why."
"Lt, I do read history. I'm told this makes me a rarity."
"Well now, we have our answer. Forget history, doomed to repeat it. Rest of you girls, listen up, study harder in history."
Boos, groans, catcalls.
"Now girls, I have received your message loud and clear. You say committee work is boring and meaningless. Ok, I'll remedy that, give you real stuff. Here is the library budget. No need to come to consensus tonight. Topic will continue until it's sorted. Wanta show off how smart you are, show this poor broke librarian how to squeeze a few rupees. Time to put up or shut up!"
This time, there is no easy glib answer, no phony-blaoney consensus. We spend the rest of the evening coming to terms with how grim the librarian's world really is."
As we walk back, Tasmina groans, "liked it better how it was."
I reply, "end of the age of innocence."
"Yeah, wonder why she has such a bitten attitude."
"Think war games, as in officer staff college. Would you rather make a mistake in a computerized war game? Or rather make it with real men's lives at stake?"
"Yeah, I hear you. Better to look like an idiot here and now, not later. Far better than shooting yourself in the foot with real rupees and real jobs on the line. Funny one you are, only one who can understand the enemy's thinking."
As it turns out, we surrender after our sixth session, admit there ain't one rupee to be squeezed. Good learning experience all the same.
I feel totally trashed, burnt out, fried. Just not used to that much social. And while the doctors were not unkind, they did cause me to shine a light on areas I'd really rather not.
They're right, devil and angel. Sweet little innocent me and the maniac on the megakill. Sometimes I'm both at the same time. Does every kid growing up deal with this sort of problem? Or just me?
See, I've looked up the history. Any dimension you care to measure, Major Strasser led the way. Most deaths overall. Most deaths per man-year of labor. Most deaths by a single battalion in a single year. Yep, the Major left the competition in the dust. And now, innocent little me has to deal with it all.
I feel Amina's warm relaxed grip and thank the fates. Least I'm not alone.
Parvana takes my hand as we head off to do paper. "You feeling ok, Nooria?"
"Yes."
"Real quiet."
"Just burnt out."
"They were hard on you?"
"No, but they caused me to shine a light on spots I'd really rather not."
"Least you're honest Nooria. Lotsa people ain't, lie to themselves all their lives."
No matter what, there's always something else. Nothing is ever enough.
Shauzia grabs my arm, "now you listen to me. Been ignoring me of late."
"Ignoring you? Come on, just busy."
"Look you, I ain't just your jailer anymore. We are friends. So dig that head out of the clouds."
I look at her. Jealousy. Oh no. Gotta do something. "right, nice walk tomorrow?"
Her face softens a bit, "ok, but nowhere near cliffs. You been a bit crazy with those doctors about."
"Let's just say they were walking on my grave."
I see the concern, love, friendship, "you don't necessarily hafta explain. But you do hafta spend lotsa time with me."
We walk. I don't say a word. Afraid what will come out. She doesn't either. But somehow that doesn't matter, companionship is enough.
Dari teacher, "Nabila, front and center. Now this, class, is how literature is supposed to be. Nabila read it out."
It's good, touching, entitled "The Cell Phone." A market fruit vendor in Peshawar has an obsession. Must own a cell phone. Can't afford a monthly plan. But using prepaid card, his costs are maybe 1/4 of a fixed home phone. He even has different color plastic covers, to match the fruits in season.
His family pays a price for this obsession. Food is lackluster, daughter lacks needed medicine, repairs don't get done.
Nabila does a good job of showing the family tension, including the acid comment that if the son needed medicine, he'd get. Still, it is impossible to actually hate the man, because he's painted as a decent chap in all other regards.
"Nooria, Fereshta, front and center. I'll spare these 2 the humiliation of reading this awful dreck. I assigned a topic of 3 or 4 characters, which must include emotional interaction.
"Fereshta, this story of 3 foreign NGO women. 15 times there was hugging, every one of those a copout, should have shown some emotion.
"Nooria, this story of 3 stranded Air Force men. 6 times you threw in jokes, when you should have shown emotion instead."
"Sad to say, just as bad. We've achieved equality you see. Years ago, there was a sort of social pressure which slowed women down. Seems to have disappeared. They're now perfectly free to follow the siren song of addiction, just like the other half of the species. Lotta cases, it's worse. Smaller body to dilute the substance."
This is no shock to me, I do come from Saskatoon via Lilac Valley.
Nurse asks, "so what's the main dimension you spot in drug abuse?"
"Seems to revolve around Type A and Type B personalities. Type A gets bored a lot quicker. After all, soldiering is a lot more boring than the movies make it seem. Type A, high addiction rate. Type B, level-headed sort, mostly a few pints with the lads, leave it at that. If I were in charge of recruitment, I'd choose mostly Type B."
Nurse grins, "doesn't work that way, does it? Mostly Type A applies in the first place."
All three laugh.
Doctor, "I'm afraid it all comes down to money. You can endlessly blather on about quote recruiting a better class of soldier. In the end, there isn't one pound extra in the budget to do it. So ultimately, you end up with 2 classes. One, total misfit anywhere else, seeking a refuge. These come from all strata of society. Two, those merely poor, seeking a start in life. But of course, some of those poor will have the same flaws as the others. And once steady pay starts coming, addictions appear which weren't there before. Still, as our friend Nooria so kindly points out, that is why we get the big salary."
They all laugh.
Nurse sighs, "talk about your ultimate contradiction in terms. Everytime you think you've got her figured, there is something else. How did you actually manage? Four days of all those byzantine alleyways."
Grin, "I like her. Dragon yet a lamb. Devil yet an angel. Adult yet a child. Rather her than the boring sort."
"Don't imagine many of our girls were boring to you."
"Heavens no. It's true what they say, Afghan women are the roughest toughest women on the planet. These, still apprenticing, soon get there. And since it takes a lion to lead lions, I wouldn't be too surprised if Nooria ends up your Commander-in-Chief."
Nurse agrees, "she does have that air."
Doctor smiles, "want the real truth? How I tracked behind her? My husband's best friend is battalion commander of 2 Para. It's stunning, but she says a lot of the same things he does. Very similar patterns of thought. So, used to following him in conversation, Nooria wasn't really that hard. Eerie, in anyone so young; especially so in a girl."
Nurse smiles uneasily, "yeah, was thinking the same myself, lots during the four days."
"Nuff shop talk, more pizza?"
Officer Cadet meeting, Lt asks why I missed the last one.
"Ma'am, was the British doctors, with me from breakfast til near lights out."
She sniffs, "got rules. Miss and you get the envelope next time."
I could argue but why bother? Another clown show. Bring it on. So much more fun to strafe it, shoot it full of holes myself than watching the others.
"You are commander of a space vessel, circa year 2200. You've crash-landed on a planet 50,000 light-years from Earth. All the initial survival problems have now been sorted, for better or worse. Com equipment totally dis. You've found food and water, prepared shelters, established there are no dangerous predators. With these concerns sorted, your crew is restive, bored. What action do you propose?"
"I could play Captain Bligh. But then I'd soon be messily dead. Emergency over, a new society is establishing itself. Dictatorship only works well during emergency, rarely does well in normal civil society. Let's establish democracy, rules of voting, egalitarian wealth sharing, use everyone's skills, give people a sense of belonging. 50,000 light-years, we aren't gonna be rescued soon. Better to be an ordinary citizen in a peaceful regime than a dead captain."
I look, see all thumbs go up.
Lt shakes her head, "uncanny, like you gotta sixth sense Nooria. Always come out on the sensible side. Don't fall into traps the others do. Wonder why."
"Lt, I do read history. I'm told this makes me a rarity."
"Well now, we have our answer. Forget history, doomed to repeat it. Rest of you girls, listen up, study harder in history."
Boos, groans, catcalls.
"Now girls, I have received your message loud and clear. You say committee work is boring and meaningless. Ok, I'll remedy that, give you real stuff. Here is the library budget. No need to come to consensus tonight. Topic will continue until it's sorted. Wanta show off how smart you are, show this poor broke librarian how to squeeze a few rupees. Time to put up or shut up!"
This time, there is no easy glib answer, no phony-blaoney consensus. We spend the rest of the evening coming to terms with how grim the librarian's world really is."
As we walk back, Tasmina groans, "liked it better how it was."
I reply, "end of the age of innocence."
"Yeah, wonder why she has such a bitten attitude."
"Think war games, as in officer staff college. Would you rather make a mistake in a computerized war game? Or rather make it with real men's lives at stake?"
"Yeah, I hear you. Better to look like an idiot here and now, not later. Far better than shooting yourself in the foot with real rupees and real jobs on the line. Funny one you are, only one who can understand the enemy's thinking."
As it turns out, we surrender after our sixth session, admit there ain't one rupee to be squeezed. Good learning experience all the same.
I feel totally trashed, burnt out, fried. Just not used to that much social. And while the doctors were not unkind, they did cause me to shine a light on areas I'd really rather not.
They're right, devil and angel. Sweet little innocent me and the maniac on the megakill. Sometimes I'm both at the same time. Does every kid growing up deal with this sort of problem? Or just me?
See, I've looked up the history. Any dimension you care to measure, Major Strasser led the way. Most deaths overall. Most deaths per man-year of labor. Most deaths by a single battalion in a single year. Yep, the Major left the competition in the dust. And now, innocent little me has to deal with it all.
I feel Amina's warm relaxed grip and thank the fates. Least I'm not alone.
Parvana takes my hand as we head off to do paper. "You feeling ok, Nooria?"
"Yes."
"Real quiet."
"Just burnt out."
"They were hard on you?"
"No, but they caused me to shine a light on spots I'd really rather not."
"Least you're honest Nooria. Lotsa people ain't, lie to themselves all their lives."
No matter what, there's always something else. Nothing is ever enough.
Shauzia grabs my arm, "now you listen to me. Been ignoring me of late."
"Ignoring you? Come on, just busy."
"Look you, I ain't just your jailer anymore. We are friends. So dig that head out of the clouds."
I look at her. Jealousy. Oh no. Gotta do something. "right, nice walk tomorrow?"
Her face softens a bit, "ok, but nowhere near cliffs. You been a bit crazy with those doctors about."
"Let's just say they were walking on my grave."
I see the concern, love, friendship, "you don't necessarily hafta explain. But you do hafta spend lotsa time with me."
We walk. I don't say a word. Afraid what will come out. She doesn't either. But somehow that doesn't matter, companionship is enough.
Dari teacher, "Nabila, front and center. Now this, class, is how literature is supposed to be. Nabila read it out."
It's good, touching, entitled "The Cell Phone." A market fruit vendor in Peshawar has an obsession. Must own a cell phone. Can't afford a monthly plan. But using prepaid card, his costs are maybe 1/4 of a fixed home phone. He even has different color plastic covers, to match the fruits in season.
His family pays a price for this obsession. Food is lackluster, daughter lacks needed medicine, repairs don't get done.
Nabila does a good job of showing the family tension, including the acid comment that if the son needed medicine, he'd get. Still, it is impossible to actually hate the man, because he's painted as a decent chap in all other regards.
"Nooria, Fereshta, front and center. I'll spare these 2 the humiliation of reading this awful dreck. I assigned a topic of 3 or 4 characters, which must include emotional interaction.
"Fereshta, this story of 3 foreign NGO women. 15 times there was hugging, every one of those a copout, should have shown some emotion.
"Nooria, this story of 3 stranded Air Force men. 6 times you threw in jokes, when you should have shown emotion instead."
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