Poncho? Check.
Granola bars? Yep (though they’ve been smashed at the bottom of the bag for at least six months).
Flashlight? Technically no … but isn’t that what smartphones are for?
The pre-arrival information packet for HEAT (Hazardous Environment Awareness Training) hosted by the Danish Refugee Council (DRC) and the Safety & Security Committee for Lebanon (SSCL) told me to be prepared for a one day field mission. It’s hard to pack appropriately when you don’t know what to expect. What exactly is a hazardous environment, anyway? Potholes and oil spills? Scorpions in the rubhall? Or are we talking heavy cigarette smoke during quiz night at the local pub? Or maybe a couple of mosquitoes trapped on the wrong side of the bed net? I’ve found that for most of these types of threats, Dramamine, DEET, and lidocaine offer the best protection.
Fast forward two days and it turns out smoky bars with obnoxiously loud music are definitely NOT classified as a hazardous environment (Exception: the bar is located in the middle of a mine field or subject to a terrorist attack).
From the moment I got on the bus heading toward the hotel where I would bunk for the next four days, it was clear this wasn’t going to be a typical PowerPoint-filled training. Each participant was handed a briefing folder but instead of an agenda found a situation report for a fictional country facing a severe humanitarian crisis due to armed conflict. The very real snow on the mountains and thick clouds draped along the road played into my increasing sense of unease.
Despite my fears, the actual location of the training was quite stunning. The breakfast spread alone was worth the trip. More importantly, I walked away with a better sense of my own ability to survive a safety or security incident. I sincerely appreciated the instruction by such high caliber staff including Lebanese nationals who taught me how to use a fire extinguisher (hint: if the extinguisher says ‘WATER’ don’t use it on your microwave), certified me in first aid and CPR (ditch the rescue breaths if you don’t see the chest rising; it’s more important to keep the heart going), and allowed me the opportunity to practice my survival skills on them (note: it’s not appropriate to ask a soldier if he has a girlfriend, even if you can’t think of anything else to say while attempting to keep him from going to sleep with a concussion).
So without further ado (and without giving away any of DRC’s super-secret training techniques), here are the top 10 things I learned at HEAT that everyone should know (in no particular order):
1. Unlike in the movies, you cannot step on a land mine, say your goodbyes, and then step off when you’re ready. Most land mines will detonate immediately and without warning. If you find yourself in a mine field, do not move. If your foot was in the air, do not put it down. Rest it on top of your other foot. Call for de-miners to come and then wait. Do not retrace your steps. You’ll probably wet yourself out of fear, so don’t worry about bathroom breaks. And if you do spot an anti-personnel mine, don’t do what I once did – attempt to put rocks around it and then forget to tell anyone. Report it to the authorities immediately.
2. Shock will freeze you. If you’re caught in crossfire while driving, your gut reaction will probably be to take your foot off the petal. The key to surviving is to break your shock as quickly as possible and never, ever stop in the kill zone. Don’t forget to check your colleagues for injuries. The adrenaline may keep them from realizing they’ve been hurt.
3. If you aren’t frozen, you will at least be jumbled up. Stop. Think. Act. Use simple words like Run! and Get down! Be sure to make eye contact with those around you and try to use the name of your colleagues to get their attention.
4. Get out of the car on the OPPOSITE side of incoming fire (should be self-explanatory and yet this is an actual training point that proved to be not so obvious).
5. Keep your vehicle windows up at all times. It doesn’t matter if you’re in a sand dune desert or a sprawling city. You are an easy target for thieves or kidnappers if you’ve got your windows down. And wear your seat belt!
6. Know where the first aid kit is kept. If you’re abandoning a vehicle, take it with you. And make sure it’s fully stocked ahead of time. It’s a horrible surprise to find out all you’ve got is a pair of scissors, a Band-Aid, and some Kleenex when you’re dealing with a bleeder.
7. Radios don’t bite. No need to be afraid of them! Have fun calling Tango Whiskey Foxtrot or Lima Echo Harry…. wait, that’s not right…. I honestly can’t remember what H is, or G, or even my own damn call sign, for that matter. Epic Fail!
8. Avoid photo ops with famous people. Famous people attract attention and can be oblivious to the dangers lurking around them. If you must facilitate a field visit by a good-looking movie star in order to get more funding for your program, keep your head. You don’t want to be gazing at a starlet and fail to notice the warning signs that something isn’t right, like say, a man wearing a heavy jacket in the middle of summer.
9. Fight stress by finding something positive you can focus on. I like theme parks. Take a trip to Disneyland, ride Big Thunder Mountain. Take your picture with Minnie Mouse. Your mind is your most precious asset. Protect it.
10. And finally, expect to react strangely to an incident. This may have to do with the brain trying to find something it can control. In the fictional world of Midlandia, one of our cohort responded to an approaching bad guy by throwing her arms open for a hug. Love does not conquer all. Friends don’t let friends embrace masked men.
In the end, I didn’t have to use my poncho, eat the granola bars, or wield a flashlight. That doesn’t mean they won’t come in handy someday. If anything, I’ve added to my toolkit for surviving a critical incident. I hope I never have to use the skills I’ve learned, but I’m so thankful I have them.
*Final note: Please know that I went into the training scared to death and it showed in some of my reactions. I’m still scared and one of the ways I manage my fear is with writing, humor and staying light-hearted. If you’ve been through physical or psychological trauma, it isn’t a laughing matter. This post is in no way meant to trivialize your experience. If you haven’t done so already, talk to a counselor or a friend. Rest. Regroup. Then get back out there if you can. The world needs you.
Trackbacks/Pingbacks