The Hooch

Webster's Dictionary defines the word "Hooch" as: An illicitly distilled (and usually inferior) alcoholic liquor. Even though I prefer the Webster's way of looking at things, "Hooch" is also a slang term used during the Vietnam War to describe a small shelter. Albeit taking from both definitions here in Kabul - a rather inferior small shelter. This is where I live, at least for the time being. The Embassy in Kabul was evacuated during the onset of the Russian invasion of Afghanistan during late 1978 and even though our building stood strong for nearly 25 years, time took its toll. When the American diplomatic presence returned to Kabul following the September 11th bombings and subsequent invasion, the security situation required that all employees be housed on the Embassy compound giving birth to Kabul Hooch.

Having traveled extensively around the world I'd heard the term before and may have even seen a "hooch" or two during my years in South Korea. Nothing prepared me for what I would soon be calling home.

Arriving on the 19th of October and having my passport taken from me, I was escorted to the Embassy compound by my perdecessor and new boss. The Embassy is only about a 15 minute straight shot (pardon the pun) from Kabul International Airport but what a ride it was. Swerving and weaving in and out of traffic at whatever speed we wanted (just my kind of place), I arrived in one piece. By this time the puddle in my lap had dried, although the drive from the airport nearly created a new one. I was taken to the Housing Office and given a key to my Hooch and told that it was right next to the kennels (will not elaborate on that). I'm glad I had an escort since the entire compound (except for the actual Embassy builiding) is filled with these single story conex containers (all painted white) that have been modified into lodging facilities. My suitcases arrived from the airport and I made my way with them to my new (hopefully very temporary) home.



To the credit of "The Hooch", mine has all the creature comforts of home. When you walk inside the door immediately to your left is a sink with hot & cold running water, a mirror, a medicine cabinet and a conveniently placed water heater right under the sink. There is an old Army style locker which has a couple shelves and unfortunately does not have a long enough hanging space to accommodate all of the formal wear that I brought along (one U.S. Army Class "A" uniform). Next to the drab gray metal "closet" is a small fridge and even a microwave to heat up Vienna Sausages and my all time favorite micro treat - Hot Pockets. Next to the mini-fridge is a dresser with ample space for underwear (I brought 25 pair), socks and even t-shirts. Sat upon the dresser is the nicest 13 inch color television I'd ever laid my eyes upon, including a DVD player. Across from the dresser and TV is a small desk with two drawers and comes equipped with an IVG equipped telephone and an ethernet cable that provides "sort of" broadband internet access. At the end of "The Hooch" is the absolute best set of bunk beds I've slept on in the last 10 years. Not since the mighty USS Blue Ridge have I seen bunk beds of this quality. The only difference is on the Blue Ridge they're stacked 3 high and in my "hooch" there are only 2 beds to the bunk. The mattress is the same though, at a massive 2 1/2 inch thickness. I know because I measured it. You see before I left my office gave me this great Leatherman tool that has a ruler on one edge. I'd never in my life figured out what I could use that ruler for - until now. Sheets pulled tight, just like boot camp, I couldn't wait to climb in for some much needed rest. (It didn't end up happening for about 12 more hours). On the opposite end of the "hooch" is a step up bathroom complete with shower and toilet. All of this comfort squeezed into a trailer that you may see on the back of an 18-wheeler except that instead of having the whole trailer - two of these "Hooches" have been squeezed into that one trailer space. My Leatherman ruler doesn't measure that far but I'm guessing around 80 square feet that I have all to myself. I was told though that they couldn't promise me solidarity the entire stay and that I have to be ready to expect a roommate at anytime. I mean after all, there's an empty bed and of course plenty of room.


There are lots of great things about my hooch, like its ability to heat up to an amazing 100 degrees during the day and damn near (if not below) freezing at night. Keep in mind that Kabul is at about 6,000 feet above sea level so the temps can be very different when the sun goes down. There is a small air conditioning/heating unit on the wall above the top bunk that really doesn't do much but make a whole lot of noise. The shower stall is about 1 1/2 feet across in both directions so I literally have to get out and go back in to turn around. The water is supposed to stay hot for 8 minutes but I have the express version which means I have hot water for about 3 minutes. I used to do this when I was younger in the military so not a big deal except now I have no hair and a whole lot more skin to wash. I don't know how a woman could even think about washing their hair in this abbreviated attempt at personal hygene. Above the toilet is an extractor fan that has to stay on at all times or the mosquitos will invade in fligts larger than most modern air forces. I'm normally not too tasty to mosquitos but I think the Afghan version is looking for anything that tastes different than goat.

My days in the hooch are numbered though since once my predecessor departs, I will be moving into one of the numbered apartments which are located on the compound as well. That of course is a different post all together.

My free time in the office has run out and its time to go to bed in my hooch and start the day again tomorrow. Good Night.