thedrifter
02-07-06, 06:32 AM
Marine, orphans speak basketball
Serving in East Africa, the Oviedo man joins kids in a game they all understand.
Willoughby Mariano | Sentinel Staff Writer
Posted February 7, 2006
Even from inside a cramped Humvee, surrounded by Marines, this land of black dirt and red rock can make you feel alone, Sgt. Sean Osmond said.
Djibouti seems unearthly, the reservist said. In this desert country in the Horn of Africa, barren rock stretches to the horizon. Summer temperatures hover above 100 degrees. Dirt roads appear overnight, then blow away into the desert.
Life in Oviedo, Osmond's hometown, has almost nothing in common with life in Djibouti, he said.
Except for basketball.
At a tiny boys orphanage in the shadow of Camp Lemonier, the military base outside the country's capital, barefoot teens mimic the moves of U.S. basketball stars. He doesn't understand their language, but what he can decipher speaks volumes.
"I've actually heard one of the kids mention 'Shaq,' " said Osmond, 25.
The orphanage's basketball court is a reminder of life in peacetime, so after long days training troops or patrolling the desert, Osmond and others join them.
Since 2002, this tiny country of about a half-million people has become the headquarters for the war on terror in the Horn of Africa. After the U.S. invaded Afghanistan, many Muslim extremists moved to nearby Yemen and Somalia, two countries suspected by the U.S. government of harboring terrorists.
The roughly 1,500 U.S. forces that make up the Combined Joint Task Force, Horn of Africa, based at Camp Lemonier outside of the city of Djibouti, the country's seaside capital, oversee the counter-terrorism operation.
Their mission is to deny terrorists safe havens in Djibouti as well as Kenya, Somalia, Sudan, Eritrea, Yemen and Ethiopia. They train area militaries and secure the region as well as drill wells, renovate hospitals and perform other tasks that shore up the infrastructures of these impoverished countries.
This is Osmond's second tour of duty. The first was in Iraq. The poverty in Djibouti is far worse, he said.
"My time in Iraq made me appreciate life in the U.S.," Osmond said. "My time in Djibouti made me appreciate life in general."
The orphanage next to Camp Lemonier is a case in point, Osmond said. It's a small building, maybe 7,000 feet, where about 25 boys, ages 4 to 18, sleep in sparse rooms with little privacy and no air conditioning.
There is a soccer field, which was a patch of dirt covered in glass and cans before volunteers from the military base borrowed rakes and shovels to clean it up.
The basketball court is a well-kept but aging strip of asphalt. Until military volunteers helped fix it up, two poles bolted to two pieces of plywood served as baskets.
Electrical power is sporadic. The region's future is uncertain. But just about every afternoon, there's a basketball game.
Osmond volunteered at the boys orphanage because he figured he had something to offer. Other military personnel had spent their free time there, as well as at a baby orphanage where he sometimes bottle-feeds infants. The Eagle Scout and University of Central Florida graduate thought playing basketball with the boys sounded like fun.
His first game took place a few days after he arrived about four months ago. The boys were skinny and small, not the ideal build for a basketball player. Some were barefoot. The Marines were in their 20s, with years of grueling physical training behind them.
The Marines lost by about 15 points.
" 'You've got to be kidding me' ," he recalled saying to himself.
Serving in East Africa, the Oviedo man joins kids in a game they all understand.
Willoughby Mariano | Sentinel Staff Writer
Posted February 7, 2006
Even from inside a cramped Humvee, surrounded by Marines, this land of black dirt and red rock can make you feel alone, Sgt. Sean Osmond said.
Djibouti seems unearthly, the reservist said. In this desert country in the Horn of Africa, barren rock stretches to the horizon. Summer temperatures hover above 100 degrees. Dirt roads appear overnight, then blow away into the desert.
Life in Oviedo, Osmond's hometown, has almost nothing in common with life in Djibouti, he said.
Except for basketball.
At a tiny boys orphanage in the shadow of Camp Lemonier, the military base outside the country's capital, barefoot teens mimic the moves of U.S. basketball stars. He doesn't understand their language, but what he can decipher speaks volumes.
"I've actually heard one of the kids mention 'Shaq,' " said Osmond, 25.
The orphanage's basketball court is a reminder of life in peacetime, so after long days training troops or patrolling the desert, Osmond and others join them.
Since 2002, this tiny country of about a half-million people has become the headquarters for the war on terror in the Horn of Africa. After the U.S. invaded Afghanistan, many Muslim extremists moved to nearby Yemen and Somalia, two countries suspected by the U.S. government of harboring terrorists.
The roughly 1,500 U.S. forces that make up the Combined Joint Task Force, Horn of Africa, based at Camp Lemonier outside of the city of Djibouti, the country's seaside capital, oversee the counter-terrorism operation.
Their mission is to deny terrorists safe havens in Djibouti as well as Kenya, Somalia, Sudan, Eritrea, Yemen and Ethiopia. They train area militaries and secure the region as well as drill wells, renovate hospitals and perform other tasks that shore up the infrastructures of these impoverished countries.
This is Osmond's second tour of duty. The first was in Iraq. The poverty in Djibouti is far worse, he said.
"My time in Iraq made me appreciate life in the U.S.," Osmond said. "My time in Djibouti made me appreciate life in general."
The orphanage next to Camp Lemonier is a case in point, Osmond said. It's a small building, maybe 7,000 feet, where about 25 boys, ages 4 to 18, sleep in sparse rooms with little privacy and no air conditioning.
There is a soccer field, which was a patch of dirt covered in glass and cans before volunteers from the military base borrowed rakes and shovels to clean it up.
The basketball court is a well-kept but aging strip of asphalt. Until military volunteers helped fix it up, two poles bolted to two pieces of plywood served as baskets.
Electrical power is sporadic. The region's future is uncertain. But just about every afternoon, there's a basketball game.
Osmond volunteered at the boys orphanage because he figured he had something to offer. Other military personnel had spent their free time there, as well as at a baby orphanage where he sometimes bottle-feeds infants. The Eagle Scout and University of Central Florida graduate thought playing basketball with the boys sounded like fun.
His first game took place a few days after he arrived about four months ago. The boys were skinny and small, not the ideal build for a basketball player. Some were barefoot. The Marines were in their 20s, with years of grueling physical training behind them.
The Marines lost by about 15 points.
" 'You've got to be kidding me' ," he recalled saying to himself.