A couple of weeks ago, my aunt told me to invite anyone from my A-100 class who didn't have a place to go to come spend Thanksgiving with us. A couple of days later, I sent out an e-mail to my 89 classmates telling them as much.
When my aunt found out, her eyes got real big. "I told you to invite your class, not the whole State Department!"
In the end, 5 decided to join us for a grand total of about 24 people. The food was great; the company couldn't be beat; and there were games aplenty to top off the afternoon. I can't think of a better way to spend Thanksgiving.
Meanwhile, I'm sure everyone has seen the recent happenings in Mumbai. I had hoped nobody in my family would notice until after the holiday. That was a bust.
I spent Wednesday and Thursday fielding inquiries from all sides. What did I think of the situation? Was I surprised? Was I scared to go now? Could they just lock me in a closet so I wouldn't go into harm's way?
It's downright tragic. I certainly didn't expect something like this to happen. No, I'm not afraid to go. No, I will not live in a closet for the next two years (I appreciate the concern, though).
I don't know how to react to something like this. I don't like these things. I wish this hadn't happened, that much I know. But it has happened, and there's really not much I can do about that. I spent a lot of time the first couple of days trying to stifle a persistent feeling of helplessness. When the instructors announced on Friday that they needed caseworkers this weekend, I jumped. Truth be told, I would have jumped no matter where the crisis had occurred.
So I've spent the majority of my waking hours this weekend at the Department, helping American Citizen Services provide support to the Consulate General in Mumbai and trying to account for U.S. Citizens who might have been affected. It has to be some of the most rewarding work I have ever done. People are grateful to get a call from the Department of State to verify that their loved one is safe, and I am equally grateful to know that in my little way, I have been of service. That's why I'm in this line of work, after all.
Am I tired? You betcha. Did I get much else done this weekend? I was late to my cousin's birthday celebration, but I did make it eventually and had a wonderful time visiting with everyone. Other than that, I accomplished virtually none of my the tasks on my list for this weekend. And how am I feeling now? Sleepily satisfied. I didn't make everything magically better in Mumbai, but I'd like to think I've made some small contribution. That's all I really need.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Two Months
Two months ago yesterday was my first day in the Foreign Service.
In the past two months, I have completed A-100, I have made some lifelong friends, I have found out where I will serve my first tour, one of my cousin's has gotten married, another cousin has had a baby, and I have completed an intensive South Asia area studies course.
I have no idea where the time has gone.
And in just a couple more months, I'll be on my way to India. How the time flies.
In the past two months, I have completed A-100, I have made some lifelong friends, I have found out where I will serve my first tour, one of my cousin's has gotten married, another cousin has had a baby, and I have completed an intensive South Asia area studies course.
I have no idea where the time has gone.
And in just a couple more months, I'll be on my way to India. How the time flies.
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Civic Duty
Two of my classmates hosted an election party Tuesday night.
There was curry, pasta, two kinds of chili, chips and salsa, and a plethora of the usual sweets. There was a hand drawn map of the United States on one wall, red and blue markers waiting on a nearby table for us to color in each state as it was called. There was a chart on the opposite wall where people could keep track of their predictions of results for the whole country as well as select "swing" states. There were at least a couple of dozen people in attendance, representing--quite vocally--both sides of the political aisle. And there was a good time had by all.
When my area studies instructor turned out to vote in 2004, he waited in line for an hour and a half to use the single voting machine at his polling place. This year, he waited for more than two hours for his turn at one of eight voting machines, and he had never seen nearly so many young people at a polling place in his life.
Regardless of anyone's political affiliation, it's heartening to see young people turn out to vote, actively taking a stake in the future of our country. It's such a small thing to do, and yet it has such far and long reaching consequences.
I am firmly of the belief that if you are eligible to vote and don't, that you cannot complain about the outcome. I don't care who you decide to vote for. I just ask that you take your civic duty seriously and make an informed decision when choosing a candidate. If you don't vote, you effectively forfeit you right to disparage the result. You have given up your voice. And in a nation where free speech is so highly prized, not having your say in deciding the outcome of an election is nothing short of tragic.
Perhaps one vote won't change things, but just imagine the result if each person raised their little voice, if they each voted.
So. Thank you for voting.
There was curry, pasta, two kinds of chili, chips and salsa, and a plethora of the usual sweets. There was a hand drawn map of the United States on one wall, red and blue markers waiting on a nearby table for us to color in each state as it was called. There was a chart on the opposite wall where people could keep track of their predictions of results for the whole country as well as select "swing" states. There were at least a couple of dozen people in attendance, representing--quite vocally--both sides of the political aisle. And there was a good time had by all.
When my area studies instructor turned out to vote in 2004, he waited in line for an hour and a half to use the single voting machine at his polling place. This year, he waited for more than two hours for his turn at one of eight voting machines, and he had never seen nearly so many young people at a polling place in his life.
Regardless of anyone's political affiliation, it's heartening to see young people turn out to vote, actively taking a stake in the future of our country. It's such a small thing to do, and yet it has such far and long reaching consequences.
I am firmly of the belief that if you are eligible to vote and don't, that you cannot complain about the outcome. I don't care who you decide to vote for. I just ask that you take your civic duty seriously and make an informed decision when choosing a candidate. If you don't vote, you effectively forfeit you right to disparage the result. You have given up your voice. And in a nation where free speech is so highly prized, not having your say in deciding the outcome of an election is nothing short of tragic.
Perhaps one vote won't change things, but just imagine the result if each person raised their little voice, if they each voted.
So. Thank you for voting.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Humbled
Completed A-100 on Friday. Starting Monday, my remaining training at FSI is geared toward my job in Mumbai. I'll get South Asia area studies, consular training, and miscellaneous safety seminars before I'm shipped out in February. I am off on my own adventure! My classmates all begin their own individual training schedules, too. They're a truly amazing group, and I know I've made some lifelong friends in the last 7 weeks.
When our course coordinator pointed out that, starting Monday, each of the 90 people in our class will be going in 90 different directions, all in the service of our country, I felt a little shiver go down my spine. I'm one of those 90 people. Not just some nameless, faceless person in the back of a classroom, but an individual--one of 90. I am a member of the 141st A-100 class. I am an official representative of the Government of the United States of America.
Wow.
When our course coordinator pointed out that, starting Monday, each of the 90 people in our class will be going in 90 different directions, all in the service of our country, I felt a little shiver go down my spine. I'm one of those 90 people. Not just some nameless, faceless person in the back of a classroom, but an individual--one of 90. I am a member of the 141st A-100 class. I am an official representative of the Government of the United States of America.
Wow.
Friday, October 24, 2008
Flag Day!
I lived through the ordeal and am quite satisfied with the result:
Name that flag! Kudos to the first person to post the answer. Additionally, priority visiting rights to the first person to correctly name the city where I will be posted.
So what are you waiting for? Post a comment already!
Name that flag! Kudos to the first person to post the answer. Additionally, priority visiting rights to the first person to correctly name the city where I will be posted.
So what are you waiting for? Post a comment already!
Sunday, October 19, 2008
He Does Exist!
Thursday morning our class was bussed over to Main State for an event. We had been kept in the dark about the nature of the event until that morning. Apparently President Bush was going to be on site for a briefing and wanted the chance to meet our class while he was there. When the President beckons, you come.
We got there about an hour and a half before he was due to speak to us. It took a while to get 90 State and 45 USAID entry level officers through security, and then we meandered our way through the ceremonial suite to the Benjamin Franklin room, where the President would address us. The President's staff arranged us on bleachers for a class photo with him and then let us relax until they got word that President Bush and Secretary Rice's meeting was concluding. Then it was back to attention, waiting for him to join us.
He came peaking around the corner and into the room. Everyone applauded. The first thought in my mind was "He does exist!" Not to say I didn't think he existed before, but you'd be surprised how it strikes you after seeing someone in the papers and on TV for years. It's quite a different experience. He looks much younger in person than on a television screen. He took pictures with both the USAID and the State classes and then stood around to answer questions for a few minutes. The whole thing was very down to earth. According to our instructors, it's been a couple of years since the President last greeted an entering class like this.
In other news, the weather is getting crisper (love it!), but the leaves have yet to really change color (please be in full swing for Mom's visit). My aunt spent yesterday morning baking muffins for church today, and the warmth and smell in the house when you walked in from the morning chill was perfect. We're really getting into fall (leaves aside), and that means the holidays are coming up. In my mind that's always meant lots of family and the food, warmth, and happiness that comes from being with them.
That means the holidays are starting early this year for me. There will more than 30 family members in town by this weekend. A whopping grand total of one will be coming to Flag Day with me (thank you, Mom!). To be fair, I'd really like to be at the wedding with everyone, but, alas, I have yet to master the art of being in two places at once. I'll settle for the family brunch on Saturday, even if they do plan to thwart my brilliant plan. I had hoped to show up to brunch on Saturday with my flag and make them figure out where I'm going, not unlike what my class will have to do on Friday to figure out where each of us will be going. No go. My uncle's made very clear that I am expected to call Friday night between the wedding ceremony and the reception to tell them where I'm going. As I'd rather not jeopardize my invitation to Saturday's brunch, I shall acquiesce.
I'm much more excited about Mom's chicken and buscuits on Thursday and the big family brunch on Saturday than finding out where I'll be going on Friday, anyway. Come Friday, I'll have a(n approximate) deadline to leave DC, and I'm not overanxious to leave. I'm enjoying my time with family and classmates. Games, dinners, cooking lessons, chit chat, and more, all with such good company. Really, what more could I ask for?
We got there about an hour and a half before he was due to speak to us. It took a while to get 90 State and 45 USAID entry level officers through security, and then we meandered our way through the ceremonial suite to the Benjamin Franklin room, where the President would address us. The President's staff arranged us on bleachers for a class photo with him and then let us relax until they got word that President Bush and Secretary Rice's meeting was concluding. Then it was back to attention, waiting for him to join us.
He came peaking around the corner and into the room. Everyone applauded. The first thought in my mind was "He does exist!" Not to say I didn't think he existed before, but you'd be surprised how it strikes you after seeing someone in the papers and on TV for years. It's quite a different experience. He looks much younger in person than on a television screen. He took pictures with both the USAID and the State classes and then stood around to answer questions for a few minutes. The whole thing was very down to earth. According to our instructors, it's been a couple of years since the President last greeted an entering class like this.
In other news, the weather is getting crisper (love it!), but the leaves have yet to really change color (please be in full swing for Mom's visit). My aunt spent yesterday morning baking muffins for church today, and the warmth and smell in the house when you walked in from the morning chill was perfect. We're really getting into fall (leaves aside), and that means the holidays are coming up. In my mind that's always meant lots of family and the food, warmth, and happiness that comes from being with them.
That means the holidays are starting early this year for me. There will more than 30 family members in town by this weekend. A whopping grand total of one will be coming to Flag Day with me (thank you, Mom!). To be fair, I'd really like to be at the wedding with everyone, but, alas, I have yet to master the art of being in two places at once. I'll settle for the family brunch on Saturday, even if they do plan to thwart my brilliant plan. I had hoped to show up to brunch on Saturday with my flag and make them figure out where I'm going, not unlike what my class will have to do on Friday to figure out where each of us will be going. No go. My uncle's made very clear that I am expected to call Friday night between the wedding ceremony and the reception to tell them where I'm going. As I'd rather not jeopardize my invitation to Saturday's brunch, I shall acquiesce.
I'm much more excited about Mom's chicken and buscuits on Thursday and the big family brunch on Saturday than finding out where I'll be going on Friday, anyway. Come Friday, I'll have a(n approximate) deadline to leave DC, and I'm not overanxious to leave. I'm enjoying my time with family and classmates. Games, dinners, cooking lessons, chit chat, and more, all with such good company. Really, what more could I ask for?
Monday, October 13, 2008
Countdown
We're still two weeks off from Flag Day. (Okay. Eleven days, but who's counting?) People keep asking if I'm anxious to know where I'm going. Honestly? No, not really. I'm much more interested in seeing all the family flying in for my cousin's wedding--which I must miss, alas, because it is occurring simultaneously with the Flag Day ceremony. I'm not pleased about that. At least there's the family brunch the next day, and I will most definitely be in attendance then. I'm also much more interested in another cousin having her baby. So much is changing for my family in the next couple of weeks. It's very exciting.
Now, Flag Day is also exciting, don't get me wrong. I really want to see where all my classmates end up, watch their excitement as the next chapter unfolds for each of them. But as for where I end up? Eh. They'll send me somewhere. Life's bound to be interesting, wherever I go.
Now, Flag Day is also exciting, don't get me wrong. I really want to see where all my classmates end up, watch their excitement as the next chapter unfolds for each of them. But as for where I end up? Eh. They'll send me somewhere. Life's bound to be interesting, wherever I go.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Week 4
After three days of playing outdoors last week at work last week, our return to PowerPoint culture all of this week has been rather anticlimactic. This weekend is definitely making up for it, though.
Yesterday, we drove out to the Maryland Renaissance Festival. It was very, very sunny, but aside from that a pleasant way to spend the day. My 6-year-old cousin was quite taken with a dog that could say "Mama" on cue: "Who's the boss, mama or papa?" "Mama." I always knew dogs were smart. The costumes were something, as they always are at a Renaissance festival. Some were gorgeous, others made you do a double take, despite your better judgment. And the food! I'd never seen such variety at something like this before. Everything from the mandatory turkey leg to steak on a stake, falafel, hot potato chips, gooey yam fries, croissant sundaes, and more. It was quite something. Food aside, the 6-year-old got knighted by Henry VIII and had his face painted (a very manly fire-breathing dragon), and we saw several of the shows going on throughout the grounds. A good time was had by all. I forgot my camera, but my aunt and cousin took lots of pictures, so I may be able to get some from them.
Today, we headed out to the Blueridge Mountains for a country breakfast and apple festival with extended family. The coffee cake and cinnamon apples were awesome. I found out that I've missed fresh biscuits, too. There was this nice hill outside the lodge where we ate that that little ones had fun running around on. The 6-year-old also got a kick out of throwing rocks into the stream at the bottom of the hill, which is apparently an annual tradition. I stuck around the festival long enough to watch the 6-year-old climbing a pile of hay bails and help one aunt pick out apples to top off their box. Then said aunt and corresponding uncle absconded with me to their house (with a detour to Safeway and down their mainstreet to show me around town) where the rest of the group would join us for lunch. My uncle barbeques a mean chicken breast, and my aunt makes a very tasty chicken salad and chocolate cake. And it was so peaceful sitting out on their deck, enjoying the view of their large, sloping lawn and the treeline at the bottom. Once more, a good time was had by all. I was sent home with a large helping of assorted cut vegetables, thanks to me and my vegetarian tendencies, and samplings of several varieties of apples. When I got back to my other aunt and uncle's house (my regular weekend haunt and Family Central on this coast) this afternoon, with said aunt and uncle, I napped and finished a book.
Could this weekend get any better? It's had outdoor excursions, great food, down time, lots of wonderful family. Could really get any better? Oh, yes. Tomorrow is a holiday. Thank you, Federal Government, for observing Columbus Day.
Yesterday, we drove out to the Maryland Renaissance Festival. It was very, very sunny, but aside from that a pleasant way to spend the day. My 6-year-old cousin was quite taken with a dog that could say "Mama" on cue: "Who's the boss, mama or papa?" "Mama." I always knew dogs were smart. The costumes were something, as they always are at a Renaissance festival. Some were gorgeous, others made you do a double take, despite your better judgment. And the food! I'd never seen such variety at something like this before. Everything from the mandatory turkey leg to steak on a stake, falafel, hot potato chips, gooey yam fries, croissant sundaes, and more. It was quite something. Food aside, the 6-year-old got knighted by Henry VIII and had his face painted (a very manly fire-breathing dragon), and we saw several of the shows going on throughout the grounds. A good time was had by all. I forgot my camera, but my aunt and cousin took lots of pictures, so I may be able to get some from them.
Today, we headed out to the Blueridge Mountains for a country breakfast and apple festival with extended family. The coffee cake and cinnamon apples were awesome. I found out that I've missed fresh biscuits, too. There was this nice hill outside the lodge where we ate that that little ones had fun running around on. The 6-year-old also got a kick out of throwing rocks into the stream at the bottom of the hill, which is apparently an annual tradition. I stuck around the festival long enough to watch the 6-year-old climbing a pile of hay bails and help one aunt pick out apples to top off their box. Then said aunt and corresponding uncle absconded with me to their house (with a detour to Safeway and down their mainstreet to show me around town) where the rest of the group would join us for lunch. My uncle barbeques a mean chicken breast, and my aunt makes a very tasty chicken salad and chocolate cake. And it was so peaceful sitting out on their deck, enjoying the view of their large, sloping lawn and the treeline at the bottom. Once more, a good time was had by all. I was sent home with a large helping of assorted cut vegetables, thanks to me and my vegetarian tendencies, and samplings of several varieties of apples. When I got back to my other aunt and uncle's house (my regular weekend haunt and Family Central on this coast) this afternoon, with said aunt and uncle, I napped and finished a book.
Could this weekend get any better? It's had outdoor excursions, great food, down time, lots of wonderful family. Could really get any better? Oh, yes. Tomorrow is a holiday. Thank you, Federal Government, for observing Columbus Day.
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Bidding
On the first day of training, we were given a list of the places and positions people in our class would be sent to fill. We were given a week and a half to do our research on the posts and put together a draft bidlist, indicating whether each post was a "High," "Medium," or "Low" preference. We each sat down with our career development officer (CDO) at the end of last week to discuss our priorities and reasoning in ranking our bids. Our final bidlist was turned in last Monday at the start of the day.
We headed off to West Virginia on Wednesday for three days of leadership and team-building exercises. The best part of the experience? Jeans and sneakers! And three days of outdoor activities. You can imagine how nice it was to be out of the suits and the lecture hall and doing something hands on. I also had the chance to work with classmates I've only seen from a distance in the classroom. Overall, it was mostly a positive experience. I can't say I'm overeager to be back in a suit tomorrow, but it's just for four more weeks.
At any rate, while the ninety of us were divided up to bond in smaller groups during the trip, our CDOs were sitting around a table deciding where to send us, based on our final bidlists and the information gathered from us during our individual meetings. I can't say I was terribly helpful in the process. I signed up for worldwide availability and I mean it. I want to go everywhere! One place at a time, of course. So I don't really have my heart set on a particular geographic region, position type, language, or other priority. I just want to go somewhere new, and I figure no matter where that is and what I'm doing, I'm bound to learn something. Add to that the fact that I keep hearing over and over again that the best tour people have served was the one they were sent to kicking and screaming, and I don't think I can pass judgment on an particular post.
Generally, people seem to be more focused in their bidding. For example, they give high priority to posts with good schools, since they'll be brining children along; or to posts where their spouse will be able to find independent employment; or to quarantines and whether they'll be able to bring the family pet. None of these are concerns for me at this point. Other people really want a French African post, or to learn Spanish, or to go to East Asia. Their bidlists and discussions reflect these preferences. I don't have any of these sorts of preferences myself. I'm still not sure how big a fool this proves me to be.
Through various activities and discussions about the bidding and placement process, I have determined that where you are sent has a certain element of uncertainty in it until you're actually there. So there doesn't seem to be much point in getting your heart set too firmly on any criterion.
Someone asked a couple weeks ago, while trying to help me figure out what my priorities should be, whether I had anything like dice or a dartboard that I could use to help me out. I replied that I had a CDO. There is certainly an element of randomness there. Your placement depends on the abilities and preferences of your classmates, the advocacy of your CDO (and you through your bidlist and accompanying narrative), and the final group decision of all the CDOs, which can change right up until Flag Day.
By dinner on Thursday, the CDOs had cast the die for the ninety people in my class--though the results are only in pencil right now. They know, tentatively, where I'm going for my first tour. And they won't tell me a thing for another three weeks--on October 24th, or Flag Day. I really could be going anywhere, so there's not much hope of figuring it out ahead of time. I'm just not going to think about it. October 24th is bound to be here before I know it, anyways.
We headed off to West Virginia on Wednesday for three days of leadership and team-building exercises. The best part of the experience? Jeans and sneakers! And three days of outdoor activities. You can imagine how nice it was to be out of the suits and the lecture hall and doing something hands on. I also had the chance to work with classmates I've only seen from a distance in the classroom. Overall, it was mostly a positive experience. I can't say I'm overeager to be back in a suit tomorrow, but it's just for four more weeks.
At any rate, while the ninety of us were divided up to bond in smaller groups during the trip, our CDOs were sitting around a table deciding where to send us, based on our final bidlists and the information gathered from us during our individual meetings. I can't say I was terribly helpful in the process. I signed up for worldwide availability and I mean it. I want to go everywhere! One place at a time, of course. So I don't really have my heart set on a particular geographic region, position type, language, or other priority. I just want to go somewhere new, and I figure no matter where that is and what I'm doing, I'm bound to learn something. Add to that the fact that I keep hearing over and over again that the best tour people have served was the one they were sent to kicking and screaming, and I don't think I can pass judgment on an particular post.
Generally, people seem to be more focused in their bidding. For example, they give high priority to posts with good schools, since they'll be brining children along; or to posts where their spouse will be able to find independent employment; or to quarantines and whether they'll be able to bring the family pet. None of these are concerns for me at this point. Other people really want a French African post, or to learn Spanish, or to go to East Asia. Their bidlists and discussions reflect these preferences. I don't have any of these sorts of preferences myself. I'm still not sure how big a fool this proves me to be.
Through various activities and discussions about the bidding and placement process, I have determined that where you are sent has a certain element of uncertainty in it until you're actually there. So there doesn't seem to be much point in getting your heart set too firmly on any criterion.
Someone asked a couple weeks ago, while trying to help me figure out what my priorities should be, whether I had anything like dice or a dartboard that I could use to help me out. I replied that I had a CDO. There is certainly an element of randomness there. Your placement depends on the abilities and preferences of your classmates, the advocacy of your CDO (and you through your bidlist and accompanying narrative), and the final group decision of all the CDOs, which can change right up until Flag Day.
By dinner on Thursday, the CDOs had cast the die for the ninety people in my class--though the results are only in pencil right now. They know, tentatively, where I'm going for my first tour. And they won't tell me a thing for another three weeks--on October 24th, or Flag Day. I really could be going anywhere, so there's not much hope of figuring it out ahead of time. I'm just not going to think about it. October 24th is bound to be here before I know it, anyways.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
It's like Christmas!
My UAB (Unaccompanied Air Baggage) arrived today! The packers helped me dump everything on the bed and couch so they could take the boxes and packing debris away. So I am now in possession of everything I previously owned which I will have access to before I get to my first post.
This is a relief. Especially since the only "To" address on the boxes when they left my parents' house was "Washington, DC." Umm. Okay, sure. That'll definitely get them to my apartment in a timely fashion and without mishap. Don't you agree? Nonetheless, I decided that I'd hold off the panic inherent in my not knowing something which I consider of vital interest (like, the whereabouts of half my suits and a box of books?), and put follow-up on hold until I'd been here for a couple of weeks.
I was rewarded last Friday when I got an email saying that my stuff was here and ready to be dropped off. And today I finally had time to be here to make sure everything was here and that they'd make the boxes go away. The result? Everything (minus packing debris) seems to be here! The place is starting to feel almost homey now.
This is a relief. Especially since the only "To" address on the boxes when they left my parents' house was "Washington, DC." Umm. Okay, sure. That'll definitely get them to my apartment in a timely fashion and without mishap. Don't you agree? Nonetheless, I decided that I'd hold off the panic inherent in my not knowing something which I consider of vital interest (like, the whereabouts of half my suits and a box of books?), and put follow-up on hold until I'd been here for a couple of weeks.
I was rewarded last Friday when I got an email saying that my stuff was here and ready to be dropped off. And today I finally had time to be here to make sure everything was here and that they'd make the boxes go away. The result? Everything (minus packing debris) seems to be here! The place is starting to feel almost homey now.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Bleary Survival
I survived the first week. I shall be back for the second one tomorrow. The people are amazing. There's a woman in my class whose husband in currently posted to Jakarta. Their kids go to the same elementary school. Small world, isn't it? And they've added a pool since I was there! Back in the day, we were taken to the American Club a few weeks a year for swimming lessons. Now, it appears, they get swim lessons year round right on campus. Definitely a step forward. I wonder if this should make me feel old.
Getting up at 6am to get to an 8am class on time is killing me. At my old job, I would get up at 8 to get to my 9am job on time. It's a small sacrifice in the grand scheme of things, though. The training is interesting, and getting to spend 8+ hours a day with these people is worth getting up so early. Now, let's see how many of us are saying that after 7 weeks together.
Getting up at 6am to get to an 8am class on time is killing me. At my old job, I would get up at 8 to get to my 9am job on time. It's a small sacrifice in the grand scheme of things, though. The training is interesting, and getting to spend 8+ hours a day with these people is worth getting up so early. Now, let's see how many of us are saying that after 7 weeks together.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
It Starts
I had a wonderful, relaxing stay with family in Virginia, then moved into my studio apartment for the duration of training yesterday. My aunt and a cousin helped me move in, stock up with food essentials, and topped it all off with a "girls' night out" for dinner. I hadn't expected to see my cousin this last week--she made a last minute drive up this week for other reasons. I regret the circumstances behind her visit, but I'm glad she could come and that we got to spend time together. It's been close to 10 years since I last saw her. I'm looking forward to seeing her whole family next month when they come for another cousin's wedding.
Moving in wasn't so bad. Two suitcases, a backpack, and a weekend bag. The studio has two TVs. Yes, two. One to view from the couch, one to view from the (Murphy) bed. I haven't had regular access to one TV (with decent reception) in five years. Since I'll spend the bulk of my time here in training, sleeping, or visiting with people, I don't see myself getting much use out of either TV. Nonetheless, we were terribly amused by the setup when we first saw the place.
There's some sort of informal gathering this afternoon. It's an opportunity to meet fellow 141st A-100 members before we start tomorrow morning. There are supposed to be 90 of us in the class, so there's sure to be plenty of variety this afternoon. One of the greatest benefits in this line of work to me is the caliber and diversity my colleagues bring to the Service. So I'm obviously looking forward to this afternoon.
As far as training goes, don't expect any substantive information from me. I will not discuss the content or nature of training here, or much in person, for that matter. To help preserve some semblance of sanity, I prefer to keep my work and personal lives separate. The purpose of this blog is to give friends and family a way to determine that I am still alive if they don't here from me on a regular basis. That said, friends and family (and interested strangers looking into the Foreign Service) seeking more detailed, specific, or personal information than what is found here should get in contact with me directly. Please note that even then I will remain tight lipped about my actual job.
Moving in wasn't so bad. Two suitcases, a backpack, and a weekend bag. The studio has two TVs. Yes, two. One to view from the couch, one to view from the (Murphy) bed. I haven't had regular access to one TV (with decent reception) in five years. Since I'll spend the bulk of my time here in training, sleeping, or visiting with people, I don't see myself getting much use out of either TV. Nonetheless, we were terribly amused by the setup when we first saw the place.
There's some sort of informal gathering this afternoon. It's an opportunity to meet fellow 141st A-100 members before we start tomorrow morning. There are supposed to be 90 of us in the class, so there's sure to be plenty of variety this afternoon. One of the greatest benefits in this line of work to me is the caliber and diversity my colleagues bring to the Service. So I'm obviously looking forward to this afternoon.
As far as training goes, don't expect any substantive information from me. I will not discuss the content or nature of training here, or much in person, for that matter. To help preserve some semblance of sanity, I prefer to keep my work and personal lives separate. The purpose of this blog is to give friends and family a way to determine that I am still alive if they don't here from me on a regular basis. That said, friends and family (and interested strangers looking into the Foreign Service) seeking more detailed, specific, or personal information than what is found here should get in contact with me directly. Please note that even then I will remain tight lipped about my actual job.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Great Strides
One year ago today I sat the Foreign Service Officer Test (FSOT). I came out of it tired and hungry (it was a late afternoon exam). I was sure that even if I'd somehow managed to pass the multiple choice portion, that my essay had gone down in flames. I'd never written such worthless rubbish in my life. Nonetheless, I also came out hoping against hope that somehow I would pass and continue forward in the process. Waiting a whole year to restart the process, waiting a whole year to retake the FSOT, waiting a whole year to try to achieve the dream just seemed so impossible long.
A whole year later, I'm in DC, staying with relatives. I flew in yesterday and start training Monday. It's amazing how quickly the year has gone and how far I've managed to come. It's rather surreal.
The movers came to my parents' last Friday to pack me out. About 200 pounds are on their way to DC for me to have while I'm here before being sent to my first post. Everything else is on its way to storage until I'm shipped abroad. A representative from the moving company called the week before to find out if there was anything particularly large or fragile they'd be moving.
"I have a baby grand piano."
"That's good to know. How about a bed?"
"No bed."
Incredulously, "No bed?"
"Nope. But lots of books."
I think I have my priorities straight. My mother witnessed my end of the conversation.
Last Friday, the company sent out one lone packer, who was there 9 to 5 packing all my kitchen, books, crafts, and odds and ends. Around 11, the mover showed up. Yes, the mover. One mover. And I have a baby grand piano. He took one look at it when I told him it was going and he did not look happy. Apparently the company forgot to tell him about the piano, so he hadn't brought anybody to help him move things. He roped the packer into helping him move the piano, and somehow after much fuss (I couldn't watch) they got it on to the truck. Let's hope it makes it to post in good condition. Many thanks to my parents for letting me run off with the piano rather sooner than previously expected. There's something therapeutic about sitting down to the piano at the end of the day and just playing. It should help preserve my sanity in the years to come.
After the vast majority of my worldly possessions were loaded on the truck and hit the road, Mom and I spent the weekend going through my old room. We emptied all the closet and drawers. (We refilled one of the drawers with things I want to keep that I finally found when we were going through my room--after the movers left, of course.) We bagged up towels which Mom took to our dog's vet. We bagged up old clothing which Mom dropped off at hospice. We threw out and recycled countless bits and pieces that I haven't seen in years. There were still some things lying around the room when I got on the plane yesterday, but we made huge progress.
It is insanely annoying that the airlines have not only started charging to check bags, but have also decreased the weight limit for a checked bag. My mother helped me pack things into the bags so that we could maximize use of my limited space--when you get 2 suitcases and 200 pounds of shipped belongings and you might be somewhere for upward of a year, it's important to pack prudently. My mother is an expert packer, so her help was much appreciated. Unfortunately, my mother is programmed to pack 70 pounds into a bag. When the airline will charge you an extra $125 for a 51-pound bag, 70 pounds doesn't cut it. When we did our finally weighing of my two checked bags, they both came in at 51 pounds. We just laughed. It was getting late and we were going to be up at 4:30 the next morning to get me to the airport on time for my flight. We readjusted things to put the bags at 49 pounds--a 1-pound margin, just in case. We also packed a "weekend bag" to get me through a few days at my aunt and uncle's, so that I would have the necessities while United lost my luggage, as is their custom.
Mom went to bed by 12:30. I went to bed at 3. I got no pity, because people figured I could sleep on my flight. People did not figure on a 21-month-old kicking me in the ribs (accidentally) as I tried to doze off. Nor on the 4 or so other babies screaming periodically throughout the flight. So much for catching a nap. On the positive side, I was tuckered out enough at the end of the day to slip right into East Coast time. Hopefully I'll be on track to get up Monday, though catching a 7:10am shuttle to work isn't particular fun for me in any time zone.
So I got to Virginia in one piece. And with all my luggage (gasp!). I'm enjoying a few days hanging out with family. It was such a relief to have someone at this end waiting for me and ready to help out. Moving over the past couple of weeks has taken a lot out of me and it's nice to have a couple of days to recover and adjust, surrounded by loved ones. It's wonderful to see everyone again, even if some of the cousins have no clue who I am--it's been 7-10 years since I saw most of them, and I've certainly changed in that time. I'm really looking forward to seeing family regularly while I'm in the DC area--both for training and on assignment--in the years to come. It's one of the many perks for me in this line of work.
I'll move into my apartment for the duration of training on Saturday. A friend from LA who is also in the 141st A-100 class and I are planning to meet up after we've both finished moving on Saturday. I'll get a chance to meet the majority of my future classmates Sunday and the meet and greet that the 139th, our sponsor class, has arranged. And then all 90 of us will be together at 8am on Monday morning to start A-100.
It's exciting. I'm very much looking forward to getting started. This is definitely a long way off sitting the FSOT at a Los Angeles trade school a year ago.
A whole year later, I'm in DC, staying with relatives. I flew in yesterday and start training Monday. It's amazing how quickly the year has gone and how far I've managed to come. It's rather surreal.
The movers came to my parents' last Friday to pack me out. About 200 pounds are on their way to DC for me to have while I'm here before being sent to my first post. Everything else is on its way to storage until I'm shipped abroad. A representative from the moving company called the week before to find out if there was anything particularly large or fragile they'd be moving.
"I have a baby grand piano."
"That's good to know. How about a bed?"
"No bed."
Incredulously, "No bed?"
"Nope. But lots of books."
I think I have my priorities straight. My mother witnessed my end of the conversation.
Last Friday, the company sent out one lone packer, who was there 9 to 5 packing all my kitchen, books, crafts, and odds and ends. Around 11, the mover showed up. Yes, the mover. One mover. And I have a baby grand piano. He took one look at it when I told him it was going and he did not look happy. Apparently the company forgot to tell him about the piano, so he hadn't brought anybody to help him move things. He roped the packer into helping him move the piano, and somehow after much fuss (I couldn't watch) they got it on to the truck. Let's hope it makes it to post in good condition. Many thanks to my parents for letting me run off with the piano rather sooner than previously expected. There's something therapeutic about sitting down to the piano at the end of the day and just playing. It should help preserve my sanity in the years to come.
After the vast majority of my worldly possessions were loaded on the truck and hit the road, Mom and I spent the weekend going through my old room. We emptied all the closet and drawers. (We refilled one of the drawers with things I want to keep that I finally found when we were going through my room--after the movers left, of course.) We bagged up towels which Mom took to our dog's vet. We bagged up old clothing which Mom dropped off at hospice. We threw out and recycled countless bits and pieces that I haven't seen in years. There were still some things lying around the room when I got on the plane yesterday, but we made huge progress.
It is insanely annoying that the airlines have not only started charging to check bags, but have also decreased the weight limit for a checked bag. My mother helped me pack things into the bags so that we could maximize use of my limited space--when you get 2 suitcases and 200 pounds of shipped belongings and you might be somewhere for upward of a year, it's important to pack prudently. My mother is an expert packer, so her help was much appreciated. Unfortunately, my mother is programmed to pack 70 pounds into a bag. When the airline will charge you an extra $125 for a 51-pound bag, 70 pounds doesn't cut it. When we did our finally weighing of my two checked bags, they both came in at 51 pounds. We just laughed. It was getting late and we were going to be up at 4:30 the next morning to get me to the airport on time for my flight. We readjusted things to put the bags at 49 pounds--a 1-pound margin, just in case. We also packed a "weekend bag" to get me through a few days at my aunt and uncle's, so that I would have the necessities while United lost my luggage, as is their custom.
Mom went to bed by 12:30. I went to bed at 3. I got no pity, because people figured I could sleep on my flight. People did not figure on a 21-month-old kicking me in the ribs (accidentally) as I tried to doze off. Nor on the 4 or so other babies screaming periodically throughout the flight. So much for catching a nap. On the positive side, I was tuckered out enough at the end of the day to slip right into East Coast time. Hopefully I'll be on track to get up Monday, though catching a 7:10am shuttle to work isn't particular fun for me in any time zone.
So I got to Virginia in one piece. And with all my luggage (gasp!). I'm enjoying a few days hanging out with family. It was such a relief to have someone at this end waiting for me and ready to help out. Moving over the past couple of weeks has taken a lot out of me and it's nice to have a couple of days to recover and adjust, surrounded by loved ones. It's wonderful to see everyone again, even if some of the cousins have no clue who I am--it's been 7-10 years since I saw most of them, and I've certainly changed in that time. I'm really looking forward to seeing family regularly while I'm in the DC area--both for training and on assignment--in the years to come. It's one of the many perks for me in this line of work.
I'll move into my apartment for the duration of training on Saturday. A friend from LA who is also in the 141st A-100 class and I are planning to meet up after we've both finished moving on Saturday. I'll get a chance to meet the majority of my future classmates Sunday and the meet and greet that the 139th, our sponsor class, has arranged. And then all 90 of us will be together at 8am on Monday morning to start A-100.
It's exciting. I'm very much looking forward to getting started. This is definitely a long way off sitting the FSOT at a Los Angeles trade school a year ago.
Friday, August 29, 2008
Home! After a winding detour.
I made it back to my parents'. The original plan had been to work through the end of August, but as the paperwork flowed in, the to-do lists grew exponentially, and the days fled by, I realized it was going to take at least an extra week to get everything set in order. So my last day of work was August 22nd, rather than the 29th as previously expected.
I had three days to train my replacement, which is three days more than I had when I started last July. I hope it was helpful for her and that the job is rewarding. On my last day, my boss and a group from the office got together and took me out to lunch. It was a wonderful gesture and certainly wasn't expecting it. I'm grateful to have met each of them this past year.
My mother, in her infinite wisdom, decided that I needed a break before I started packing my life up back home. The last thing I want is to go into the first day of A-100 burned out from my old job and the stress of moving across the country. So after we packed my stuff out my apartment in Los Angeles, cleaned the place up, and literally shut the door on that chapter of my life, Mom and I took a leisurely 5 days to drive home.
We spent the first night in Morro Bay. It's a cute little town. Mom had excellent grilled fish for dinner.
Monday morning we headed to Hearst Castle, something we had talked about doing since I first headed to LA 5 years ago. It's amazing to see what a person with a dream can accomplish. Truly amazing. The sun and the heat aside, August is a good time to visit Hearst Castle. The gardens are in full bloom. Most exciting for me, though, were the flags decorating the dining hall. Sienese contrada flags! Boy, did those bring back memories. Sadly, my beloved Istrice (the porcupine--symbol of my own contrada, or district, in Siena) was not represented.
From there it was on to Monterey, a favorite though we haven't been in years. Driving along 1, right on the coast for a good part of it, is definitely worth doing. If you can stomach it, that is. It's been many, many years, but my mother was quick to point out the precise spot along the tortuous road where we pulled over when my brother was carsick once as a kid. Ah, the memories.
We loved the view of the bay from our hotel window in Monterey. Down by the pier Monday night, we saw an otter trying to crack open a shellfish of some sort. So cute. Tuesday, during a stroll along the waterfront, we sat for a good while watching seals lounge and play on the rocks during the low tide. And pelicans! There were lots of pelicans on the rocks. I couldn't tell you why I'm so fascinated by pelicans, but I am. I adore many things about Monterey: the plethora of little cafés, the long, wide pedestrian and biking path along the ocean, the significance in California history and American literature, the fact that the sealife thrives in a natural environment. Unlike the sea lions in San Francisco, which live on floating platforms next to Pier 39 for tourists to gawk at, the marine life in Monterey congregate in open areas.
Next we hit San Francisco for the rest of the week. We parked and ditched the car as soon as we got in the city. There's a nice timeshare we stay at near Union Square when we're in the city. Dropped off our stuff and took off walking. We got our Thai noodles, browsed shops, wandered down to the water, ate lots of dim sum (there's a lovely little tea house that does vegetarian dishes), and just enjoyed being in the city. The nighttime cable car ride from Ghiradelli Square to the end of the line on Powell Street, the bridges and city lights clear and beautiful as the cable car reached the top of the line, was most definitely a highlight. The joy of my first cable car ride as a child, standing up and holding to the outer railing, wasn't diminished in the slightest. San Francisco is near and dear to both my mother's and my hearts, and I feel I have developed an appreciation for the city over the years that goes beyond the thrill of racing down the hills, clinging tightly to a metal bar, and eating lots of yummy Asian food.
On the way home today, we stopped by the Vacaville outlets, where I finally bought dress shirts for work. That was a relief. I may just be presentable for my first day of training.
And now I'm home. I got a lackluster greeting from the dog. She knows I'll just be leaving again in a few days. That's how it's been since I left for college, and her greeting becomes more tentative each time I return.
All in all, the detour fulfilled its purpose. I had unstructured downtime before I start cleaning out my old room, figuring out what I'm taking to DC (on my person or by air shipment), what will meet me at my first post (and sit in storage in Maryland until then), and what I'm finally going to let go of. There's plenty of stuff I'm not particularly attached to that I should just get rid of, but I have this deep aversion to getting rid of anything until it's dead, completely eroded into dust, and the wind carries it away from between my clenched fingers as I strain, for naught, to hold on just a moment longer. How foolish. How annoying. It is a very good thing that I'm not an impulse shopper.
The movers will be here and gone next Friday. That's one week from today. Let's hope I can get everything in order by then. I wouldn't necessarily hold my breath, though. I really, really hate packing. Of course I would go and find a career in which I am assured to move at least once every other year. How typical of me.
I'm also hoping I'll have a chance to meet up with old friends one more time before taking off for who knows how long. That would certainly be a nice way to finish out my stay in California this time around.
I had three days to train my replacement, which is three days more than I had when I started last July. I hope it was helpful for her and that the job is rewarding. On my last day, my boss and a group from the office got together and took me out to lunch. It was a wonderful gesture and certainly wasn't expecting it. I'm grateful to have met each of them this past year.
My mother, in her infinite wisdom, decided that I needed a break before I started packing my life up back home. The last thing I want is to go into the first day of A-100 burned out from my old job and the stress of moving across the country. So after we packed my stuff out my apartment in Los Angeles, cleaned the place up, and literally shut the door on that chapter of my life, Mom and I took a leisurely 5 days to drive home.
We spent the first night in Morro Bay. It's a cute little town. Mom had excellent grilled fish for dinner.
Monday morning we headed to Hearst Castle, something we had talked about doing since I first headed to LA 5 years ago. It's amazing to see what a person with a dream can accomplish. Truly amazing. The sun and the heat aside, August is a good time to visit Hearst Castle. The gardens are in full bloom. Most exciting for me, though, were the flags decorating the dining hall. Sienese contrada flags! Boy, did those bring back memories. Sadly, my beloved Istrice (the porcupine--symbol of my own contrada, or district, in Siena) was not represented.
From there it was on to Monterey, a favorite though we haven't been in years. Driving along 1, right on the coast for a good part of it, is definitely worth doing. If you can stomach it, that is. It's been many, many years, but my mother was quick to point out the precise spot along the tortuous road where we pulled over when my brother was carsick once as a kid. Ah, the memories.
We loved the view of the bay from our hotel window in Monterey. Down by the pier Monday night, we saw an otter trying to crack open a shellfish of some sort. So cute. Tuesday, during a stroll along the waterfront, we sat for a good while watching seals lounge and play on the rocks during the low tide. And pelicans! There were lots of pelicans on the rocks. I couldn't tell you why I'm so fascinated by pelicans, but I am. I adore many things about Monterey: the plethora of little cafés, the long, wide pedestrian and biking path along the ocean, the significance in California history and American literature, the fact that the sealife thrives in a natural environment. Unlike the sea lions in San Francisco, which live on floating platforms next to Pier 39 for tourists to gawk at, the marine life in Monterey congregate in open areas.
Next we hit San Francisco for the rest of the week. We parked and ditched the car as soon as we got in the city. There's a nice timeshare we stay at near Union Square when we're in the city. Dropped off our stuff and took off walking. We got our Thai noodles, browsed shops, wandered down to the water, ate lots of dim sum (there's a lovely little tea house that does vegetarian dishes), and just enjoyed being in the city. The nighttime cable car ride from Ghiradelli Square to the end of the line on Powell Street, the bridges and city lights clear and beautiful as the cable car reached the top of the line, was most definitely a highlight. The joy of my first cable car ride as a child, standing up and holding to the outer railing, wasn't diminished in the slightest. San Francisco is near and dear to both my mother's and my hearts, and I feel I have developed an appreciation for the city over the years that goes beyond the thrill of racing down the hills, clinging tightly to a metal bar, and eating lots of yummy Asian food.
On the way home today, we stopped by the Vacaville outlets, where I finally bought dress shirts for work. That was a relief. I may just be presentable for my first day of training.
And now I'm home. I got a lackluster greeting from the dog. She knows I'll just be leaving again in a few days. That's how it's been since I left for college, and her greeting becomes more tentative each time I return.
All in all, the detour fulfilled its purpose. I had unstructured downtime before I start cleaning out my old room, figuring out what I'm taking to DC (on my person or by air shipment), what will meet me at my first post (and sit in storage in Maryland until then), and what I'm finally going to let go of. There's plenty of stuff I'm not particularly attached to that I should just get rid of, but I have this deep aversion to getting rid of anything until it's dead, completely eroded into dust, and the wind carries it away from between my clenched fingers as I strain, for naught, to hold on just a moment longer. How foolish. How annoying. It is a very good thing that I'm not an impulse shopper.
The movers will be here and gone next Friday. That's one week from today. Let's hope I can get everything in order by then. I wouldn't necessarily hold my breath, though. I really, really hate packing. Of course I would go and find a career in which I am assured to move at least once every other year. How typical of me.
I'm also hoping I'll have a chance to meet up with old friends one more time before taking off for who knows how long. That would certainly be a nice way to finish out my stay in California this time around.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
A Package
Last night, I got home late and found a FedEx package on my doorstep. It contained my salary offer and all the paperwork I need to read and fill out in the next few weeks. I sent back the first three of a plethora of forms today.
The packet is a good 3/4 of an inch thick. I need to go back and check how much of that is double-sided. Needless to say, I have plenty of reading material for this weekend.
The packet is a good 3/4 of an inch thick. I need to go back and check how much of that is double-sided. Needless to say, I have plenty of reading material for this weekend.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Finally!
In the middle of May 2006, I attended a seminar outlining opportunities to work abroad after graduation. The options were paltry: Foreign Service, Peace Corp, JET, or BUNAC. The career center even went so far as to say it would be nearly impossible to find another way overseas. Ha! Nonetheless, what the Diplomat in Residence and alumna had to say about the Foreign Service caught my attention.
Never one to enter into things blindly if I can help it, I spent that summer, when I wasn't working, researching the Foreign Service. I had the library drag their lonely copy of Inside a U.S. Embassy: How the Foreign Service Works for America out of the storage facility and I spent days pouring over it, cover to cover. I did a lot of soul searching. I weighed my options to determine where my skills would best be put to use and what I would be most happy doing. I decided to apply for the Foreign Service. When I visited my parents at the end of the summer, I dragged my old A.P. U.S. History book out of a box, figuring that was as good a place as any to start studying for the Foreign Service Written Exam, which was next scheduled for April 2007.
Some time that fall, the State Department said they weren't going to be offering the exam in April, that they were putting a new system into place, and that they would give out more information when they were ready. Shoot! So much for that plan. The history book was swiftly banished back to a dark corner.
I kept an eye on the State website through the spring of 2007, scouring each page for any bit of information. At some point they announced the revised exam would be offered during the summer (but when? July? August? September?). In April or so they posted a recommended reading list for the exam. I casually flipped through the books on the list that I could find at the library. Most of the reading was dense, and I had no time or patience for it. I had plenty of time to stare at State's website, waiting for some new morsel of information. Alas, nothing enlightening was forthcoming.
That May, I ran into a young woman who had recently passed the Oral Assessment and a new Diplomat in Residence at a career fair. She confirmed that the new exam, the Foreign Service Officer Test, would be offered at the end of the summer (Not July! Huzzah! There's time to prepare properly!) and that she would recommend taking a solid six months of studying in preparation for the exam (*blink blink* Six months. Okay. End of May to August or so is... Crap.). I wanted to pass the exam my first try if I could help it. The statistics I had seen were not encouraging. However, I have always been a quick learner, so I figured I might as well give it my best shot.
When I wasn't working or sleeping, I was studying. I read the Constitution and summaries of key court cases on the bus to and from work. I read CliffsNotes about economics and management techniques, books about regional politics and culture, Strunk & White. I read that blasted history textbook cover to cover (it has since returned to the back of my closet where it belongs).
When the application for the FSOT was finally posted online in July, I spent a week filling out the application, revising draft after draft of my personal narrative essays, frantically trying to get permission from contacts to use them as references to verify what I said. I worried that since there were only 5,000 seats for the September exam and since the exam hadn't been offered in more than a year, there would be a mad rush to apply and that I might have to wait until December to take the exam because of demand and the first-come, first-serve policy. Little did I know. Fewer than half of the 5,000 seats available in September were filled.
On September 10, 2007, my boss gave my the day off to take the exam. A friend gave me a ride to the testing facility. I took the exam. Another friend gave me a ride home after the ordeal. I had no idea whether I'd passed or not, but my essay had been so poorly written and so rushed that I didn't have my hopes up. ACT said the exam results would be out in 10-12 weeks, so there was no point agonizing until around Thanksgiving. I settled in for a long wait.
The following week there was a momentary panic when FSI asked me to set up language exams for Chinese and Arabic (each of which I had taken for a couple terms in college), though I had only put a "1" (greetings and very, very basic conversation skills) down for my proficiency. It had been too long since I touched Arabic. All I could do was apologize for taking up their time. I didn't "pass" (i.e. score a 2 or higher on) the Chinese exam either, but I have never been prouder to "fail" something in all my life. Somehow I managed to last through more than 8 minutes of direct interrogation by a fast-talking native speaker on a speaker phone, understand what he was saying (I think), and respond appropriately (I think). Having come from no exposure to or knowledge of a tonal language just a year before, I was delighted with my dismal performance. Language ordeals completed, I finally, truly settled in for what I anticipated would be a long wait. Thanksgiving was still more than 2 months away, after all.
Before October was gone I had driven myself and a friend nearly mad with my anxiety. Had I passed? Was I moving on to the Oral Assessment? Was I going to have to wait for the following September to start all over again? If I didn't pass, where had I been cut off? The multiple choice portions? That miserable essay? The QEP? I can't stand not knowing something when it directly impacts me! And Thanksgiving didn't seem to be getting any closer.
November 16, 2007, FSOT results were sent out. I passed. Not sure how I managed that, but the letter indicated I should sign up for an OA slot at the end of the month, and so I did. Judgment date was set for Tuesday, January 22, 2008, in Phoenix, AZ.
I spent December and January preparing. Much as preparing for the FSOT the previous summer had ruled my life, the OA occupied my every waking thought. Fail there and it'd be back to square one in November (the next FSOT sitting I'd be eligible for).
The OA came and went, a whirlwind experience. Once more, somehow, I passed.
At the end of February, I received a Class 1 (worldwide availability) medical clearance.
After a lot of back and forth and a second set of finger prints, Diplomatic Security was equally relieved to see my security clearance issued toward the end of June.
I was added to the register before the week was out and told I would receive an official invitation to join the September 15th, 2008, A-100 class in a couple of weeks.
True to their word, the registrar's office extended that invitation earlier today. Finally.
I can't wait to get started. September 15th will be here before I know it, I'm sure. There's so much to do before then, some of it pleasant, some not so much. Friends and family to inform, suits to buy, jobs to quit, bosses to disappoint, and so many things I can't begin to fathom right now.
It's time to start taping to-do lists and reminders to the wall again, I think.
So here I am. This is really happening. I seem to be the only one who's still surprised. And yet, there's that little part of me that is thinking it's about time.
Never one to enter into things blindly if I can help it, I spent that summer, when I wasn't working, researching the Foreign Service. I had the library drag their lonely copy of Inside a U.S. Embassy: How the Foreign Service Works for America out of the storage facility and I spent days pouring over it, cover to cover. I did a lot of soul searching. I weighed my options to determine where my skills would best be put to use and what I would be most happy doing. I decided to apply for the Foreign Service. When I visited my parents at the end of the summer, I dragged my old A.P. U.S. History book out of a box, figuring that was as good a place as any to start studying for the Foreign Service Written Exam, which was next scheduled for April 2007.
Some time that fall, the State Department said they weren't going to be offering the exam in April, that they were putting a new system into place, and that they would give out more information when they were ready. Shoot! So much for that plan. The history book was swiftly banished back to a dark corner.
I kept an eye on the State website through the spring of 2007, scouring each page for any bit of information. At some point they announced the revised exam would be offered during the summer (but when? July? August? September?). In April or so they posted a recommended reading list for the exam. I casually flipped through the books on the list that I could find at the library. Most of the reading was dense, and I had no time or patience for it. I had plenty of time to stare at State's website, waiting for some new morsel of information. Alas, nothing enlightening was forthcoming.
That May, I ran into a young woman who had recently passed the Oral Assessment and a new Diplomat in Residence at a career fair. She confirmed that the new exam, the Foreign Service Officer Test, would be offered at the end of the summer (Not July! Huzzah! There's time to prepare properly!) and that she would recommend taking a solid six months of studying in preparation for the exam (*blink blink* Six months. Okay. End of May to August or so is... Crap.). I wanted to pass the exam my first try if I could help it. The statistics I had seen were not encouraging. However, I have always been a quick learner, so I figured I might as well give it my best shot.
When I wasn't working or sleeping, I was studying. I read the Constitution and summaries of key court cases on the bus to and from work. I read CliffsNotes about economics and management techniques, books about regional politics and culture, Strunk & White. I read that blasted history textbook cover to cover (it has since returned to the back of my closet where it belongs).
When the application for the FSOT was finally posted online in July, I spent a week filling out the application, revising draft after draft of my personal narrative essays, frantically trying to get permission from contacts to use them as references to verify what I said. I worried that since there were only 5,000 seats for the September exam and since the exam hadn't been offered in more than a year, there would be a mad rush to apply and that I might have to wait until December to take the exam because of demand and the first-come, first-serve policy. Little did I know. Fewer than half of the 5,000 seats available in September were filled.
On September 10, 2007, my boss gave my the day off to take the exam. A friend gave me a ride to the testing facility. I took the exam. Another friend gave me a ride home after the ordeal. I had no idea whether I'd passed or not, but my essay had been so poorly written and so rushed that I didn't have my hopes up. ACT said the exam results would be out in 10-12 weeks, so there was no point agonizing until around Thanksgiving. I settled in for a long wait.
The following week there was a momentary panic when FSI asked me to set up language exams for Chinese and Arabic (each of which I had taken for a couple terms in college), though I had only put a "1" (greetings and very, very basic conversation skills) down for my proficiency. It had been too long since I touched Arabic. All I could do was apologize for taking up their time. I didn't "pass" (i.e. score a 2 or higher on) the Chinese exam either, but I have never been prouder to "fail" something in all my life. Somehow I managed to last through more than 8 minutes of direct interrogation by a fast-talking native speaker on a speaker phone, understand what he was saying (I think), and respond appropriately (I think). Having come from no exposure to or knowledge of a tonal language just a year before, I was delighted with my dismal performance. Language ordeals completed, I finally, truly settled in for what I anticipated would be a long wait. Thanksgiving was still more than 2 months away, after all.
Before October was gone I had driven myself and a friend nearly mad with my anxiety. Had I passed? Was I moving on to the Oral Assessment? Was I going to have to wait for the following September to start all over again? If I didn't pass, where had I been cut off? The multiple choice portions? That miserable essay? The QEP? I can't stand not knowing something when it directly impacts me! And Thanksgiving didn't seem to be getting any closer.
November 16, 2007, FSOT results were sent out. I passed. Not sure how I managed that, but the letter indicated I should sign up for an OA slot at the end of the month, and so I did. Judgment date was set for Tuesday, January 22, 2008, in Phoenix, AZ.
I spent December and January preparing. Much as preparing for the FSOT the previous summer had ruled my life, the OA occupied my every waking thought. Fail there and it'd be back to square one in November (the next FSOT sitting I'd be eligible for).
The OA came and went, a whirlwind experience. Once more, somehow, I passed.
At the end of February, I received a Class 1 (worldwide availability) medical clearance.
After a lot of back and forth and a second set of finger prints, Diplomatic Security was equally relieved to see my security clearance issued toward the end of June.
I was added to the register before the week was out and told I would receive an official invitation to join the September 15th, 2008, A-100 class in a couple of weeks.
True to their word, the registrar's office extended that invitation earlier today. Finally.
I can't wait to get started. September 15th will be here before I know it, I'm sure. There's so much to do before then, some of it pleasant, some not so much. Friends and family to inform, suits to buy, jobs to quit, bosses to disappoint, and so many things I can't begin to fathom right now.
It's time to start taping to-do lists and reminders to the wall again, I think.
So here I am. This is really happening. I seem to be the only one who's still surprised. And yet, there's that little part of me that is thinking it's about time.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)