One journalist's musings about the beautiful, bizarre world in which we live
Over the past three and a half weeks, I have been living on CFB Wainwright, participating in the Journalism in Conflict Zones course, which is run in conjunction with the Canadian Forces’ Maple Guardian training.
Basically, it’s a mini-Afghanistan set up in southern Alberta, complete with villages stocked with residents and little military bases.
As part of the media training for officers, we published newscasts and newspapers that spread the word about what was going on “in the box.”
I’ll be publishing the thoughts running through my head during the course, and some of the words I wrote in my off-time.
DAY ONE – SEPT. 13, 2010
Not quite what I expected. It’s hilly here. Very hilly. I didn’t think my dad was right when he told me that.
I’m in bed. Haven’t slept in one of my own in a long time. There’s wireless internet. I should have brought my laptop. And the food isn’t half bad, either, for cafeteria crap.
I should move in, really. It’s nicer here than in my bedbug-infested, unheated torture chamber of a house in Athabasca.
DAY TWO – SEPT. 14, 2010
I am glad I learned French when I did and can plus ou moins understand it. The 22e regiment (a.k.a. The “Van Doos”) from Québec are here. I love the opportunity to practice la langue.
I think this course will be tough, tough, tough. Hard, hard work, but for something I love. Exciting. The chance to break rules and be creative.
God, I love this job. Especially the rule-bending and rule-breaking. Long live rebellion.