Blown for Good Behind the Iron Curtain of Scientology (7 page)

Also, because I was almost 16, I could stop going to school legally and would no longer have to worry about that.

I seriously considered doing this. No more school. No more housing issues and I would still make some cash. I would not have to do all the Sea Org stuff I hated and I could go off and be at Narconon Chilocco and help people get off drugs. Doing this would solve so many problems at once. The recruiters made it seem like the solution to all of the problems that I had. If I was getting paid minimum wage and having my expenses paid for, I could save up and get some good work experience. I had been “living on my own” for a few months at best. I decided that I would join. I was going to Chilocco!

I had a day or two to pack up my stuff, sort out my paperwork and make arrangements I needed to make before starting the EPF. The
E
states
P
roject
F
orce.

I had a few boxes of clothes and some records and a stereo system. I packed all that stuff up and Martha and Boris hauled it all over to the Association for Better Living and Education in Hollywood.

I was taken around to meet the staff. Everyone there seemed all happy, everyone was in suits and ties, there was one guy who said he went to Delphi Oregon and that I was doing the right thing. The building looked to be just recently renovated. I myself had never even heard of the building, the Association for Better Living and Education or any of this a week prior.

So I signed some papers and then I was off to do the Estates Project Force (EPF). I signed a contract that said I was going to be in the Sea Org for the next billion years, literally. Like there is some kind of enforcement arm of the Sea Org that is going to track me down in the next life?

The Estates Project Force is essentially one’s introduction into the Sea Organization. You learn the theory behind the Sea Org, the basic operational procedures, the do’s and don’ts and concurrent to that you do heavy manual labor. The stated idea behind the heavy manual labor part of it is that a Sea Org member is supposed to be able to do any task assigned, no matter how menial and despite the fact that normal people would never want to do it. If you make it through the program successfully, you become an official Sea Org member.

A girl named Veronika Kegel was my new buddy and she was the one I would report to until I finished the EPF. I signed the paperwork, including the billion year contract and she informed me that I was going back over to the Complex.

“Wait a minute! What do I need to go to the Complex for?” I asked.

“Well, that is where the EPF gets done,” Veronika explains to me.

“Wow, that really sucks, this place is nice, I should just do it here,” I said.

“That’s probably why it is NOT done here!” she happily replies as we headed off to the elevators.

Up until this time, I had always regarded the Complex as the filthiest place I had ever seen. This was after growing up and living next to Hollywood Boulevard for several years. Hollywood Blvd in the 1980’s was crap. In the 80’s you were lucky if
your
walk-of-fame star did not have crap or puke on it when the sun came up. It was dirty. Well the Complex somehow had logged itself lower than Hollywood Blvd in my mind.

The Estates Project Force was a tightly and heavily supervised activity. I was introduced to the EPF In-Charge. This “I/C” was the person over the whole operation. He had a guy that worked for him that was the Deputy In-Charge. There were several different Units within the Estates Project Force. Each Unit had their own I/C’s and each person on the EPF reported up to their individual I/C who then reported up to the next guy and so on. I thought I was going to do some courses, I did not know there needed to be such a strict organizational structure to do some simple courses.

Turns out that most of the structure was for the work that was to be done outside of the course room. The EPF were given crappy jobs that no one else wanted to do. MEST work is what they called it. MEST stood for Matter, Energy, Space and Time. Any type of work that occurred outside of your head was MEST work. Sea Org members had to be cause over MEST in order to get the planet cleared. So the EPF was half MEST work and half study. Studying was over for the day when I arrived, so I got to learn about what MEST work I would be doing.

We were to run everywhere we went. We sort of double-timed while in a group. We were not to be seen or heard hanging around or goofing off for any reason whatsoever. We were not to speak unless spoken to and we were told to do our work and study until we were done and then we would get assigned to our post if we passed the Fitness Board at the end of the Estates Project Force.

Cleaning dumpsters, taking out trash, doing dishes, hauling stuff, mopping floors, you know, stuff most people would have someone else do if they had the option. Well the EPF was the option for the local Sea Org staff that worked at the Complex. We would do all their dirty work and be happy doing it.

Since study time was over, I got to start with the work portion of the EPF. I was assigned to a unit that was working in the galley. The galley was the part of the Complex that I logged as the filthiest place on earth. The galley, or kitchen as everyone else on land normally called it, stank, and regardless of when I went in there over the next 15 years, it always smelled like rotten ass. So of course, that is where I got to do my EPF.

We had the job of doing the dishes after the hundreds of crew members came through and ate any one of the four meals that were served there each day. After all the dishes were done, we would get the next meal set up and have everything in place before the rush of people came back in. If you were lucky, you would get dishes or clean-up; the one job you did not want to get in the galley was “potland.” Potland was an overflowing mountain of dirty pots that never diminished no matter how many people were assigned to clean them. The pots usually had nasty smelly things stuck to them, and they did not clean easily.

Now, I had never worked in food service before, but I knew that some things being done were not up to five-star qualities. One of the girls in the same unit as me, Heather Ashworth, was about eight years old. She was rather tiny, too small to stand next to the sink and wash pots—so she was in the sink washing the pots! Standing
in
the water with a scrub brush in hand cleaning the pots. I had never seen anything like it.

Never once did I see a single hair net, gloves or any kind of smock. Everyone had their standard issue blue shorts and t-shirts with their worn out black combat boots.

After spending the rest of the night in the galley, it was time for bed. As explained to me by my In-Charge, Bill, the EPF got to go to bed early so that study could be done in the morning, before a long day’s work. So we would be able to secure at 10:00
 p.m.
and be up at 6:30! I was like - what the hell are you talking about - early?

“Well almost everybody secures at 11:00
 p.m.
but we get to go early so we can get eight hours sleep to be studentable,” Bill said cheerily, as though we just won some kind of lottery.

“This is where the men’s showers for this floor are,” Bill pointed out as we walked by a set of swinging wood doors that looked as if they had been wet for 30 years.

Holy shit! I am in the army! Communal frickin’ showers for the entire floor!

We came to the room where the Estates Project Force males were housed. No sooner than we walked in the door, several EPFers were already racing towards the showers. Turns out that if you didn’t get in and shower quickly, you would not get one. The rest of the hundreds of crew members that worked at the Complex got off post shortly after we did and the showers, bathrooms, hallways would overflow with people. It was the last place you wanted to be, walking around half naked as the “new guy.” Valuable information to have, I thought, picturing myself walking half naked through all these serious Sea Org member types.

Before I could even crack a smile at the picture in my mind, I was taken to the room where I would be sleeping. It was about 25 feet long by 20 feet wide. It had at least 30 beds in it. Most were stacked at least two or three high. There were no dressers. There were only people’s bags and some personal items next to the bed on the floor or wedged into the bottom springs in the bed above. Yes - springs. These bunk beds must have been 30 years old. There were no mattresses here; these were steel frames with metal squeaky springs and three inch pads with the thinnest sheets and barely thicker blankets. No air conditioners, no heaters. A few oscillating fans that blew in air from outside so that there would be just enough oxygen to support life until morning. Of course, I was the new guy so I got the top bunk on a triple stacker. As much as I was interested in getting more familiar with the room and my new bed, I had to get a shower. I had at least two meals worth of greasy food water soaked into my hands and arms, and no matter how much I washed them off in the kitchen, the smell just stayed with me. I grabbed a towel and my toiletries and headed towards the door.

“Where are you going?” Bill asked.

As the words reached my ears, I thought that either I am the smartest person here or this guy is the dumbest. Could not get enough of those dishes, figured I’d go down and dry a few more for morning, I thought, but answered, “To the showers.” Knowing that the latter would not get half as much of a laugh from the other EPFers, but I did not know these folks and wanted to play it cool.

“Not without sandals, you’re not!” Bill answered back.

“Huh?” I replied, questioning both him and the conversation that was taking place.

“Per the Flag orders from L. Ron Hubbard, you can’t take a shower without your sandals. You need to bring them with you in order to be able to take a shower.” Bill was putting his own set on as he was reciting this.

“No one told me about any sandals, I don’t have any and I need to take a shower,” I state, as if that will be enough to get a shower around this place.

“Well, you should get down to the canteen and get yourself some,” Bill said as he casually left the room towards the showers.

Getting down to the ground floor and back was a good 15 minutes with the slow ass elevators. I didn’t even know where the damn canteen was anyway! I grabbed my towel and headed towards the showers. I will take my chances with the whole sandals rule. I go through the swinging doors and wouldn’t you know it, right on the wall of the shower room was a white sheet of paper that has the sandal rule from L. Ron Hubbard printed out in big letters in quotes! I glanced over at the few showering EPFers, each of them were wearing sandals. You have to be kidding me!

As I was leaving, Bill came out from the wall of crappers and headed towards the showers while pointing to his watch with the “better hurry” look.

What a douche, I thought to myself, imagining how he would look with a new pair of sandals shoved in his mouth.

I got down to the ground floor by the painfully slow elevators that seemed to stop at every floor even though most of the time no one was there.

I got out and asked a girl in the hall about the canteen, “It’s downstairs, next to the galley,” she said.

I was there all damn day and nobody told me about this, but now when I had this tiny window of time to get a badly needed shower, I had to go out and buy some sandals. This is brilliant. I finally made it to the canteen. I looked around. The place was packed with people. There were so many people buying candy bars, soda, gum and cigarettes, that it was almost silly. As I looked around, that was all the place had: junk food and cigarettes. No damn sandals!

I went to the guy at the counter and asked him where I could get some sandals in my panicky new guy voice. “George’s General Store,” he answered while selling someone a pack of Camel non-filters and not even looking at me.

I knew where that was, and I thought they might even have some sandals there! George’s General Store was a tiny building across the street from the Complex that was like a mini market for Scientologists. It had everything from vitamins to dictionaries. And oddly enough, sandals too. It was half the size of the canteen and had twice as many people inside. Half these people were buying junk food and the other half were like me, buying random items that you would not normally find in a mini market.

After I paid for an overpriced and rather plain pair of flip flop sandals, I made my way back across the street to the Complex with a towel still in tow and my new sandals. The elevator had about 50 people waiting for it. The rest of the Complex staff were now off duty and going up to their rooms! I headed towards the stairs and up five flights to the floor the EPF dorm was on. As I left the stairwell and headed towards the showers, I realized that no showers were going to be had. There was a line of at least ten guys queued up outside the showers! There were guys waiting inside, too!

I caught my breath and went back to the room. No shower tonight. Maybe if I got up early enough, I could get one in the morning.

I dumped my towel by my bag and grabbed my toothbrush, I headed toward the bathroom and realized that the bathroom in the dorm was just a sink and that’s it. There was no toilet in the room anywhere. There were three guys waiting to brush their teeth and two brushing at the same time, huddled around the sink.

This was a signpost moment. I should have picked that up. I did not. Somehow, I rationalized all of this and thought that, once I was done with the Estates Project Force, I would be back in an apartment instead of living in barracks.

I brushed my teeth alone and went to bed. It took me a few minutes to get used to a sea of sporadic squeaks throughout the room, but as I laid there exhausted, I dreamt of what a hot shower would feel like in the morning.

That next morning would be one of the worst I had ever had, followed by several thousand more that rivaled it. At 6
 a.m.
, people were milling around the room. I was dimly aware of these people, but still sleeping.