It has been almost a month I’m in Warstan and in a country so far away and unknown for most people, every day is a different day. Every day I wake up not knowing what I will see on the job, who I will meet, what news I will hear from the outside world. It’s the not knowing that thrills me and scares me at the same time.

The walks in the villages have become frequent. Most of these villagers live off their crop and their lifestyle has been the same for hundreds maybe even thousands of years. You take a walk in these villages and look at these simple people who are working in their fields and minding their business in their own bubble. It doesn’t look like a warzone; instead it looks so peaceful… until shit hits the fan just like when an unexpected rain falls on a clear sunny day. My sergeant always tells us, we don’t decide when the rain falls, they do.

Who are they?

I like to express them as the Lost Cause group. From my understanding, these people; these combatants; these jihadists; these freedom fighters; these insurgents… that fight us are lost in their cause. They are illiterate, uneducated and lost souls who fight for their property, their family and their belief. They are only chess pieces to someone’s agenda. This someone makes his pieces believe that whatever they are fighting for is really fundamental on a bigger scale and their evidently righteous path will take them to absolution.

It is true that you get to meet new people here almost every day. Yesterday I was playing volleyball with Warstani soldiers. To my surprise, they were playing like pros. I thought my days of volleyball playing back in Canada would help me, but I was wrong. I came out to be the weakest link in my team. After the game, the Warstani soldiers invited me for tea. I gladly accepted the invite. I brought an interpreter with me because of the language barrier. As I got into their barrack, curious faces turned towards me. Instead of tea, they had supper set up, Warstani style. They insisted me to eat with them. Out of respect, I had to accept even though I had supper an hour before. I sat down on the carpet, refusing the fork they were offering. I told them I would be one of them tonight, sitting and eating like them. Being a lefty, the first mistake I did was eating with my left hand. I corrected that quickly. After supper, we had tea. We told stories about our countries, our lives, our differences.

All these curious tired faces were all staring at me, listening carefully to my stories. Usually I’m the quiet shy person when I’m surrounded by a group of people. But here I was the center of attention. The leader of this group asked me a question. What of the future of our country? I thought for awhile. Tough question. Then in a few words, I explained to them. Warstan had peaceful times, and with help from outside, this country will see the light of day again, on a longer term. I wasn’t so sure about the longer term part...