When you choose to operate outside of the comforts of home, within other cultures, you have to be ready to accept that things just seem to happen.  If you can maintain and keep your politics and religion to yourself, keep an open mind and be receptive to new things, the world is a fascinating place to explore.  Our time here on earth is short.  Live life and maybe even ride that bull named "BooManChu"

While working in Yemen, one of my responsibilities was to supervise our Guard Staff.  Much to my surprise, one afternoon, I had two of my charges come to me to request emergency leaves.  It seems that their two tribes were on the verge of tribal war….the requests were so they could each go to help defend their family obligations. (am I in the Twilight Zone ?)  The two of them…..standing in front of me, each smiling ear to ear, I couldn’t help but think (if only for a minute) what if I don’t sign them…my secretary, a brilliant young man from Kenya, informed me I “really needed to sign them”, it was not an uncommon situation.  So, I did. It seems this happens from time to time and usually amounts to each side taking turns fireing a few volleys at each other and then a local holy man would intervene and resolve the issue with a little “divine intervention” and all would be well with the world, until the next time.  In three to four days they came back, no one killed or injured, and they went back to their jobs as if nothing had ever happened.  To bad the rest of the world can’t find as CIVIL a resolution to their differences.

Feb 2008, Ghana West Africa  "Two to One"

  I had to run to the store one night to get some milk for my coffee in the morning.  I went into the nearby township....a road of about 2 miles and then one turn and I was at my little store.  I couldn't help but notice there were NO people on the streets??? Then I noticed hundreds of silhouettes in and around every store on the street...?  You could have heard a pin drop and I was all of a sudden real uncomfortable.  I got my milk and started back, I turned the corner with my two mile run ahead and all of a sudden all Hell broke loose.........The first thing I did was hit "windows up" then the door locks....and probably said a prayer.  The first thing I looked for was what was in their hands.....expecting Machete's......What I found was Flags of Ghana, horns, whistles, and at least one thousand people in the road celebrating.....!  I realized that it was all about football and Ghana had won 2/1 and advanced into the quarter finals.  Realizing there was no way I was getting home anytime soon I rolled my window down, turned the local football channel on, turned it up all the way, rolled my windows down and started working my horn.  The next thing I knew I had 20 to 25 kids in the back of my pickup truck jumping up and down.  If you can't beat them "join them".  A half an hour later I reached the intersection I needed and they all bailed out.  Half of them came up to the cab and thanked me for helping them have a parade.....Life is a hoot, and I am thankful I have been aloud to live it.   

  1994  Southern Yemen   "Nice Outfit" 

It was in southern Yemen, working for Canadian Occidental, bringing in the pipe from remote sites to the Central Processing Unit.  We had seen a number of flares (smoke from remote sites that indicated that a drilling operation had been successful) and took advantage of an unusual day off to see it I could stop by and congratulate our competition (a French Company) on their success.  I was about 40 miles out from our camp when I came upon a ring fence (a wall of piled stone that prohibited vehicular travel into the exploration area).  I was about 100 yards out traveling at about 65/70 MPH on a good hardpact dirt road.  I noticed what appeared to be a woman, dressed in the native black outfit from head to toe.  I began to slow down to see if she needed assistance......then I noticed it !!   First off "she" was about 6'-4" or better, the dress didn't go all the way to the ground and  there was a barrel of an AK-47" hanging out of the bottom of "her" dress....that was one of those moments in life, I put my foot to the floor on the accelerator, directed my vehicle more "towards" the would be hitch hiker and began to serpentine the roadway as soon as I cleared the wall.....the road was rough and I was kicking up a lot of dust.  I saw "her" try to back up and fall, to this day I can't believe I didn't get hit by any fire.  I came into a small village a few miles later that had a legitimate police check point and informed them of what had happened.  They didn't seem to surprised by my tale and slowly mounted their vehicle and headed back towards the point of the incident.  There are some mental pictures that seem to stay with us, this one stays with me.  I want to believe he only wanted my vehicle, but I am so thankful that I didn't have to find out. 

1981/1982   Argentina   “Beware of War"
  I found myself in an area just north of Rio Gallegos in Southern Argentina.  We were to construct pre-fab military housing at a new military base being constructed to “provide a deterrent” in Argentina’s disputes with Chile over oil around Terra del Fuego.  I was familiar with the housing product as it was produced in my home town.

   Everything went well for almost a year.  The housing was going up much faster than we had anticipated.  Our work force was the Argentine military.  One of the hardest things we had to do is to convince the leadership that the men had to stockpile their weapons in able to work safely.  That proved more difficult than we had anticipated.

  We worked thirty days on and fourteen off.  The Junta would fly us to B.A. and put us up in a hotel on the Rio Negro.  It was not the Waldorf but it was nice.  We were treated fairly well as Norte Americana’s.  Over all Human Right were in shambles, the Junta was experiencing major civil unrest and it was not unusual to see a body hanging from a tree along the road in the south.

  Well, late in “81”, in the middle of the night, we could hear a jeep coming up the hill.  We could hear the bandoleer banging against the stanchion supporting the machine gun in the back as it climbed up to our billet at the top of the hill.  There were three of us, all from Florida, in the same one room billet with bunk beads a desk and three free standing wardrobes.  Dennis jumped out of bed and climbed into his wardrobe.  Gale and I just lay in bed and laughed nervously.  Like they wouldn't’t look there.  We knew things were becoming increasingly more unstable and had discussed what we would do if things got out of hand.  The base Commander came in and informed us we had fifteen minutes to gather only those personal items we had to have.  Needless to say, we thought we were either dead or going to jail for some reason.  We were loaded into the back of a truck and off we went into the night.  We drove for hours.  We were in the back of the truck alone so there was no one to question about what was happening and an imagination can be an ugly buddy.   Just before daybreak we came to a stop Col. Fuentes asked us to get out and follow him.  We approached a road block / check point and were asked to stand and wait while he approached them.  Minutes later he returned, handed us our passports, an envelope with money inside pointed to the check point and bid us “Via Con Dios”.  He was in no mood to give us an explanation and we were afraid to push the point.  As it turned out, we were taken to the border with Chile.  He had obtained permission for us to cross, paid the guards and instructed them to point us in the direction of the nearest town.  We walked for about three hours until a bus came along and we were grateful to squeeze into the crowded bus, chickens and all.  It took us almost a full week to make it back to the US.  It was five to six months later before we were able to figure out what happened.  All communication between our company, Karrat Int. and the Junta came to an abrupt halt. 

I  took a new contract in Saudi Arabia and received news from home shortly there after ……….. “Argentina invades the Falklands”.  We assume they needed us out before they started their pre-invasion build up.  I don’t have a clue as to what happened to Col. Fuentes, I am grateful though.  I guess he knew the US would side with NATO before the Americas Conference and didn't want us to become political prisoners.  You never know who your real friends are.

1983 Saudi Arabia     “My kind of King"
  I had been working in Saudi Arabia for about a year.  I was employed by a company called Caudill, Rowlett & Scott in a joint venture with Metcalf & Eddy.  They had been contracted by the US Air Force in conjunction with the Royal Saudi Arabian Air Force to build seven military bases through out the Kingdom to bed down the F-15’s and relocate the AWAC’s and F-5’s.

  A story you will probably never hear is how that contract came about.  The US had offered to give the Saudi’s a quantity of F-15 fighters and build the bases to bed them down with American Tax Dollars.  All we wanted in return was permission to use the bases if we needed to.  The then King Khalid told our government that he had a better idea.  He said “I will pay for the planes, I will pay for the bases, and if we need your help we will request it”.    That saved this country billions of tax dollars.  He passed away shortly after I got there.  I still respect the decision he made with respect to those bases.

1984 Saudi Arabia “My greatest complement…..”
  _{At the conclusion of my contract in Saudi Arabia for Caudill, Rowlett & Scott on the Peace Sun, Peace Shield and Peace Hawk programs, I had put in for a Christmas R&R, and it was refused.  The Companies reasoning was that I was 1.5 days short of accrued leave.  If I had been granted my leave, with three young children here in Florida, one of which I left at four days old, I would have accrued the time before the plane took off.  I had taken the Al Tief project from +/- 90K over budget (in one month) to 1.2M under budget in 13 months.  What I didn't’t know was the company had a cost plus (3.5 x cost) contract.  That equated into 4.2M $US…and I didn't’t need to know.  I had been told it was a “need to know” issue.  I attack the project with the mentality I was taught as an American.  Quickly, efficiently, with full documentation.  I decided that my family was more important and informed them “I was going home for Christmas”.  I waited until my day of departure to inform “the crew” that I was finished and going home.  I then walked out the side door to the warehouse to my waiting driver.  Before I could load my bags and enter the vehicle, my crew of some 50+ men, from India and the Philippians  followed me out and lined up along the warehouse.  As I sat in the vehicle looking at them one at a time, with tears running down my face, I noticed that they too were welled up and wiping tears from their faces.  I have never been paid a greater complement.   God Bless them.}

Late “83” India            “The Great Train Robbery”
  While in Saudi, I worked with a large contingency of Indian workers.  A few of them brought items from their country to attempt to make a little money on the side.  They would take orders and then have the items sent to your home.  Two of the items that caught my eye were silk shirts and blouses and brass items.  I bought information from them on where these items came from and set out to establish a side line import business of my own.  While home on R&R I bought some patterns from a sewing outlet that I thought would be salable here in the US.  On my next R&R I booked travel to the north of India, an area called Bangalore.  They were renowned for their silk.  I spent about three days meeting with a factory representative and chose the materials I liked and ordered a couple dozen samples to be shipped home.  Men’s shirts ( $7.00) each, women’s blouses ($8.00) each and women’s three piece suits ($12.00) each.

  My next stop was an area called Moradabad.  This is where things got real interesting.  I was booked on a train from Bangalore to Moradabad and this train was out of an old west movie.  I could stand in the middle of the car and almost touch both sides of the car at the same time.  The ceiling was only maybe 3 inches over my head.  This train belonged at a ride in Disney.  Anyway, I sat in the last row of seats in the last car, when you’re an expat you always want to keep everything in front of you.  While going through a mountainous region the train slowed for an incline.  The next thing I knew there were a half a dozen men with turbans drawn around their faces pushing their way through the train, back to front.  They were all carrying old flint lock type rifles.  The truly funny thing about it is that the rifles were so long that they could not aim them at anyone.  Everyone was screaming and yelling and he started with me……unable to aim his rifle at me he grabbed the kanjar (large knife) and indicated he was willing to use it.  I reached into the front right pocket of my jacket and pulled out a large roll of money…(what we affectionately referred to as a Goat Choker)  two or three American bills wrapped around a stack of either local currency that amounted to coins, or just paper.  These were tightly wrapped and wound with large rubber bands.  I then through my hands up and kept yelling mafie mushkilla (no problem).  He took one look at the green backs and size of the roll and began yelling to his friends……he held it up to show them and they all turned around, I presume because they thought they had hit the mother load and they all exited as quickly as they had boarded.  Within moments the other passengers began approaching me, touching me and with hands clasped in front of their faces bowing….it was obvious they felt bad that the jawabi had been robbed.  There wasn't’t anyone in our car that could interpret so we just kept this up until we reached the next station.  There, a man with the railroad explained to me how sorry everyone was that I was robbed and how grateful they were that my loss kept them from robbing everyone else.  I explained to him about the “goat choker” and assured him that I was not upset at all. (This was an “A” ticket ride at Disney World) I couldn't’t have purchased such an exciting afternoon if I had wanted to.  My total loss….about $30.00, less than one hours salary and what a memory.  I went on to Moradabad and found some really nice brass items that I bought and arranged shipping on.  All in all a terrific
vacation and one hell of a memory.

Limasol, Cyprus   “Be nice or be gone”
  I was in Limassol, Cyprus and went down to a pub close the hotel.  I walked in, asked the bartender if he spoke English.  He was from Boston, the answer was yes.  I had grown up with the understanding of the phrase “Ugly American” and did not want to be one.  I asked him if there was anything that I should do or not do?  He explained to me they had only one rule, “be nice or be gone” I knew I was going to like this place.  I had dinner and drinks, and they started to drop plates and yell “OPA” wanting to fit in I asked for some plates, tossed one and yelled “OPA” and we DANCED!  I had such a brilliant night….until the bill!  My dinner and drinks were about $20.00, my plate bill was $40.00. I sure hope I had a real fun time Upa’ing, because I paid for it…..lol    Twere Fun!  Real Fun1...
 

“96”?  Yemen     “Not my truck you don’t” 
  I was on my way to the airport for a much deserved leave.  Our contract called for 90/12’s on and 30 days off.  I had to drive to Al Mukalla to catch a flight out.  I had my regular guard / driver with me and allowed him to stop and pick up his cousin so they could have my vehicle for the weekend.  It was a big deal for them to have access to a vehicle.  He was a good and loyal man. 

  On the way, we had to go down an escarpment of about 1500 ft., about 10 miles for the drop off we picked up a shadow pickup full of desert thieves.   Ironically even they refer to them as “Ali Babba”.  They were running a parallel road and just behind us.  My driver decided, much to my agreement that we didn't’t want to drop off with them over us.  We rounded a large outcropping of rocks just before the drop off and locked em up.  We jumped out and ran back to the outcropping and waited.  As they came around the other side we lit the road up in front of them.  This was not unusual, actually.  There seemed to be an unspoken trade of intentions.  We would light up the road around them; they would return a few rounds and then run away.  They wanted my vehicle to take to UAE or Qatar to sell.  They would make more money then they could make in a working lifetime.  If the target relinquished then OK, if not they would run away and wait for an easy target.  These guys weren't’t so willing to run…….we exchanged a couple of clips and they finally decided it just wasn't’t worth it.  Much to my relief.  There has to be something inherently wrong with the necessity for firearms when your occupation is Construction. 

1993  Chiengmai, Thailand  "NO CIA !, NO CIA !"
  While on R&R in Thailand, I ventured into Chiengmai, as I had heard so much about how beautiful it was.  Beautiful it was.  I made arrangement with a local cab driver to be my driver for the day and asked him to show me some sites worth photographing.  He told me about a site in the mountains that had a great waterfall and lagoon.  It sounded great to me so off we went.  About one hour into our adventure I saw a small tribe of monkeys run across the road up in front of us.  I immediately asked him to stop so I could photograph them.  We pulled over and off I went into the thick jungle.  I was probably 150 to 200 yards in when I came face to face with a local, carrying an AK 47.  He was not a welcoming committee!  He was doing some serious yelling and pointing his weapon at me.  I didn't’t know weather to _ _ _ _ or go blind.  Fortunately my driver was only a short way behind me and heard him yelling.  He came running up yelling equally as out of control and at this point I thought we were goners for sure.  I could only make out a couple of words, and what I understood really had me worried.  %$$#$$^&, *!!CIA!!!!, #%^$$^%%*^*(^,*!! CIA!!!  After about five minutes or so of ciaos, my driver, placing himself between me and Ho Chi Min started pushing me backwards the way we came in.  I was not about to argue his decision.  We managed to make it out and he just pushed me into the car and then pulled a Dale Earnheart out of the area.  After we were a short way up the road he began explaining to me that we had stumbled onto a marijuana farm.  The guard figured me for an agent working with the drug irradiation program.  Yea! Right!......I don’t think I have ever been that far from Height / Asbury.  Well, we did find the waterfall, the lagoon, and some of the most beautiful terrain I have ever seen.  I didn't known until shortly there after that I was in the area they refer to as the “Golden Triangle”.  Oh well,  stuff happens.  

 
 Germany 1969 "Fasching" 
I was eight months into my military service.  We were in Germany on the first NATO maneuver, Reforger I.  It was cold!!! and a Florida boy like me was not used to snow.  We had just finished all of our preparations for the maneuver so they gave us the weekend off.  It was at a time when the Germans were celebrating Fasching.  We went into town to a real nice two story disco.  I couldn't’t recognize what the DJ said except for the song names.  The one I remember was @$@%$#@%@#%$#@ Magic Carpet Ride…lol.  I loved that song.  There was a tradition there in which young unattached women would take a streamer out….hold it between their first finger and their thumb (like a sign for OK) and blow through it, sending it cascading outward.  She would then go over to a young man, and hang it around his neck and give him a kiss.  At this point he was supposed to reciprocate.  A tradition, that did not go unnoticed.  I went back early because I knew the LT had to go to Czechoslovakia the next morning and I was the Guard / Driver.  I sat on the back of my ¾ ton pickup and finished a real good flip top beer and had a final cigarette.  As the boys came back I couldn't help but laugh to myself as they stood outside the billet and blew streamers, one after another and draped them around their necks.  They would then walk into the billet and profess what a GREAT time they had.  I couldn't’t help but realize that we were all just praying that the women we left behind….................
didn't have some streamers of their own.   

 

“I guess I just don’t get it!”
    I am sorry; I just don’t remember the year.  My wife and I were sitting in an Applebee’s having dinner.  She sat to my right and there was a young man (20 something) to my left.  To his left was a young woman I assume was his date.  I had a fork full of salad half way to my mouth when he espoused….Yo bitch, get the check, lets go.  I put my fork down, wiped my mouth with my napkin and laid it across my plate.  At that point my wife took here right hand, reached across my chest and grabbed the left side of my shirt and pulled me around so that I was facing her.  She exclaimed that “she was not my daughter” ( I don’t have one ).  I exclaimed at an audible voice “ I didn't care, she was some ones daughter” To my dissatisfaction, he managed to get out of the restaurant before my wife let me go.

“I guess I just don’t get it !”