Info Overload.. in a good way

Im not sure how or when I grew up and got a real job, but it happened, and that epiphany just struck. We had our PAO in-brief and I am left thoroughly vertiginous 24 hours later.
The glory/curse of my job is that it mandates in-depth knowledge of practically every aspect of our brigade and its operations, as well as the foreign counterparts we work with. In less than two hours, we waded through the 4-101st' (the unit we are replacing) experiences through their deployment, and then touched on our mission in the coming year. We discussed the Afghanistan political and economic histories and projected growth/stability or lack thereof... the evolution of the security forces and our interactions with them, the ANA, ANP, ANB, ANSF and an abundance of non-Afghan foreign organizations, as well as the exigence of the provincial reconstruction teams and human terrain teams, both of which are fairly new concepts for the Army... both of which Im still trying to get a grasp on (and an interview with!)...
We also covered locations of the provinces within our area of operation, the bordering provinces, the governors of those provinces, which of our battalions will be located in which province... and guess what, I cant even properly pronounce any of it. Im almost certain our brief-er used the majority of the alphabet to spell one of the governor's names.
We learned the various tribes, where they are located, if they lean toward extreme or moderate, who supports the coalition forces, who is opposed to coalition forces, and who is simply opposed to centralized government in general... which tribes are only trying to kill us, which are killing each other.... which areas are volatile and which are secure....
We covered projects, expectations, media embeds and policies, bad guys, good guys, battle space, why we're here doing what we're doing, who's doing what, and who's getting in the way... etc. etc. etc. etc. etc. etc.
Boggled, I am.
The copiousness of it all... and that was just the first brief.
In the midst of my baffle-ment, the complexity and depth of it proves riveting. Delectable. I have the opportunity, and the duty, to engulf myself in this until I understand it, feel it, live it. I cant write the stories I am here for until I can comprehend the intricacies, grasp the complete picture. Im left desperately trying to assimilate all at once, which seems to be slightly unrealistic... overwhelming, and because success eludes me, fully irritating.

Speaking of overwhelmed, my thoughts jog off on this tangent at least once a day... the antiquity of the battles in this part of the world intimidates me, the enmity that these tribes have for each other, for us... Its enough to make anyone question whether this is something we can win. Do I think we are right for trying, sure. Do I think we are making progress... absolutely. Do I think we will change a generations-old mind-set that seems, at least to me, to be foundationally and fundamentally woven through the core of who these people are... more so than any belief or conviction Ive ever seen come out of our society and culture at home? Thats where I get lost.
Then, there is this little girl inside of me screaming... waaaaaaiiiiiitttt.... when did this get real? How did I wind up in the middle of it? Ive been 'playing Army' so long, that the scenarios and training exercises became real enough... now that Im sitting smack dab in the reality of it all, it seems fake. But its not. This is where I start to think in circles, so I typically conclude the tangent with a denial-laden acceptance, and shut off that brainwave until the next time.

I went to the bazaar this morning again, practiced some Pashto with the vendors. A group of them invited me to join them for some green chai, made with sugar reminiscent of rock-candy coating the bottom of the glass. Yum-my! I fancied the choppy conversation, they laughed at my Pashto, and I am hoping to make this part of my routine here.
This afternoon, we had our first 'breach' on Salerno since Ive been here. They called the warning over the loudspeakers, and I was told promptly to keep my happy ass in the office. I swept. Twice. I dusted. I drank some tea. I listened. Nothing. Then they called the all clear, the day un-froze, and everything went back to normal. Pretty anti-climactic, huh? I thought so too. Its a good thing (I keep reminding myself.)