Mid-Level Bidding: Round Three!

(New to the process of mid-level bidding? This primer from my 2018 experience will bring you up to speed.) 

Greetings from still-in-El-Salvador where we've just crested our third year and due to my tour extension are headed into the final stretch with one year to go. This means I'm now at bat for another rousing inning in the game we call bidding. To be more precise, I'm in the warm-up circle, taking some swings, sizing up the pitcher, looking for weak spots among the fielders where I might be successful in finding a gap and sprinting to base. At this point in the game, I'm still confidently/naiively imagining I have the chops to get to at least second. However, the competition is tough and the reality is that many good players will strike out in their bidding at-bat as again this year there are fewer bases than batters. Therefore a lot of folks will end up back on the bench.  

Where's the bench? That's a matter of opinion, eye of the beholder and all. Fortunately, one player's bench is another's home run.  For me, the bench is in Washington, DC. Not because I disliked my DC tour and two years of free museums - quiet the opposite, I loved my job and office. It's my bench specifically because spending about $65,000 in rent when I'm a tour or two from retirement would not be a wise investment decision. And no, we're not going to buy a place.

This means I'm left swinging for the fences in the hopes of landing a position that I could not only be relatively successful at, but my husband will enjoy, our cats won't hate, and that might even be kinda' fun. No pressure.

Here's the suspense-building timeline:

About May 2022:

Look at the Projected Vacancies list.  

Ha! Who am I kidding? I started eyeballing this list the week I arrived here three years ago!  Not out of disatisfaction - not at all - but because it is a compulsion, nay, an addiction that the Department fuels via a constant drip-feed of "What's the next adventure? Thinking of a promotion? Oooh, I want to work with THAT person again - where are they going next?" Keep your eye on the horizon, woman! What changed in May was that the list began to gel and offer a somewhat more realistic view of what would be its final version in September. 

June. 

Okay, Maybe Late May As I Couldn't Contain Myself:

Start contacting the incumbents (the people currently in the position I'm considering) and ask a bunch of questions about what the job's like, what are the challenges, what are the pleasures, what's the morale, what is the country like? These responses are sometimes standardized by posts, generally encourage bidders, occasionally are refreshingly frank, but more often depend on the personal outlook of the writer. It can be a mixed bag and so gathering more intel sources is required. 

I suggest getting the inside scoop from anyone you know who has served there.  The old fashioned way...

Here are some of my favorite responses that were instrumental in narrowing my choices, for better or worse:

• Did you read the OIG report?
• Local staff are knowledgeable about the country's generous local labor laws and take full advantage of them.  
• I would say the section would benefit from someone with experience navigating performance improvement and HR issues. 
• Re driving: All these men who grew up watching "The Fast and The Furious" suddenly found themselves behind the wheel of a car with predictable results. It genuinely made doing anything that involved a drive intensely taxing. We nearly got into serious accidents on every outing.
• Want to know what housing is like on a partially closed military base? Google Chernobyl. 
• I would describe the environment as light-hearted and low-impact. Very rarely do I feel challenged here. 
• This country could not possibly add any stress to your life. If you like excitement, this is not the place for you. Your day is almost always going to be exactly what you expect. 
• The workload is manageable and we are fully staffed.
• The locally employed staff are extremely experienced and highly knowledgeable; several staff members have been in the section more than 20 years and are an absolute joy to work with. 

Key phrases like "hidden gem," "fully staffed," "great weather," and "amazing produce" caught my eye, too.

June-July-August

While continuing to whittle down the best options, we also have to start marketing ourselves for these jobs. That requires gathering recommendations from current and former colleagues. As I'm only bidding on consular jobs, I have to request 7-15 Consular Bidders Assessment Tools, aka CBATs or 360s, selected from supervisors, peers, and supervisees who we can reasonably expect will: 

A. Be responsive and willing to take the 15-20 minutes on your behalf;

B. Say something positive about our performance, or at least not too damaging.

 

September 12- The Green Flag Drops and the Race is ON

The final version of the bid list is published! My list ended up with just over 100 options, not a bad start. We must now submit our Statement of Interest. Again, this is the Consular Affairs process, which differs from other bureaus. The Statement of Interest includes three standard questions that will help CA/EX, the office making the decisions on consular jobs, put just the right person in just the right job, or that's the theory anyway. Here are the questions:

1. What experiences and skills make you competitive for these positions?
2. What professional development opportunities do you hope to gain from these positions?
3. Are there other factors affecting your bidding preferences?

The instructions, in brief:

• We will refer to this statement throughout the bidding process, so keep it direct and succinct.  (Read: Don't make us wade through a bunch of wordy, over-personal babble again and again. It won't make us love you.)
• Save your edits and re-writes for your EER! (Friendly chuckle tone implies that one can simply dash off responses to the above questions.)

My translation:  Spend entire Sunday crafting just the right "This is what I can do for YOU!" statement that is confident, professional, polished, error and typo-free while at the same time guiding them to conclude only that Vancouver, BC is what I mean by "close to elderly family" and not Nogales; or "opportunity to collaborate with colleagues in a multi-post mission" clearly refers to the United Kingdom and not China.

Phew, that's done. Oh, I should note that we can't make corrections once the big submit button is hit. Again - no pressure.

Next, add your position preferences in priority order. This is the fun part. Fun part for me because for the past few months I've been carefully updating my color-coded Priority List spread sheet, tweaking it ever so slightly until it represents exactly my Dream Post wish list. Or for some, usually tandem couples, the pick-the-least-poisonous-posts list. This year mine has ten posts. Oops no, nine posts. I just learned that one post requires imported pets to be present in the country of export for six months prior to arrival in country (or something complicated like that that I didn't want to risk). That ain't going to work. Sayonara Singapore.  

This list, fortunately, can be updated anytime as the bid season moves on. And trust me, it will be, as we have conversations with CA/EX that may go something like this:

"We see your preferred positions are quite heavily bid. For example, while you listed lovely, stable, English-speaking Zambia - how would you feel instead about a year of language and then going just next door to somewhat less-stable and war-riddled Democratic Republic of Congo? I mean, they're so close and all. Remember, not everyone can go to Sydney, Paris or Tokyo!" 

Cocktail party laughter ensues. 

September and October - 

Consultative Versus Non-Consultative Postions: A Primer

Essentially, jobs that are chiefs of section (Consular Chief instead of just American Citizen Services Chief or Immigrant Visa Chief, for example) are considered "consultative" meaning that post is consulted on who they might like in that role. This person will sit at the big table as part of the embassy country team so it's understandable that post has some say in who that is, but still CA/EX has the final word. How posts discern who their top candidates are requires a good old fashioned resume and references submission and a job interview. This year, I've selected two such consultative positions. For one, a less-popular post, I was offered an interview immediately and had a lovely conversation with the (sort of) decision makers. Fingers crossed. For the second, a heavily-bid annual favorite, they will review my CBATs and then decide if I made it to the swimsuit and talent, interview round.

The remainder of my selected posts are non-consultative, in which case I can just send courtside tickets tucked surreptitiously into fruit baskets to the decision makers - and light candles. 

That's where we are now. Oh wait, I forgot one step: The regular refreshing of the bid count list! The number of people who have submitted bids on all posts is updated thrice daily. This update schedule is posted primarily, in my opinion, to keep us productive throughout the day and prevent us from wearing out the refresh button. My nine bids are registering bid counts from four to 15 and we're only on Day 3.  I eyeball posts with 0-3 bids, just in case, and find myself musing, "Kuwait, hmmm - once you hit 115 degrees the rest is just academic, right?"  

Up Next: October 31 - The Big Reveal... for Some

10 Years In: Foreign Service Retrospective and Future Thoughts

 Very recently I hit my ten year anniversary in the Foreign Service.  Aside from a 12 year stretch as a riding instructor, this is the longest amount of time I've ever had one job.  

My first thoughts: That was fast! 

My second thoughts: Isn't it time to do something else?

Let me admit that in the past year or two, I've had itchy feet to do something different, as if there were another chapter still in me to be lived.  Some little bit of favorite dessert that I've tucked away in a corner of the fridge for later.  This "something else" has a nebulous shape: just something creative, a life under my own direction with unstructured time to travel, write, photograph, watercolor, tend the garden and pet the cats. Who wouldn't want that? 

In a series of long walks on unending stretches of the Costa del Sol, my husband and I have had some good "what are we going to do with our lives?" navel-picking (his term) conversations. 

Long beaches for long conversations

Of the very few conclusions we reached, which admittedly stands a good chance of being a) forgotten, or b) reconsidered, was that our current life already gives us the opportunity for travel and certainly for immersion in a place that regular tourism doesn't.  (Or at least tourism that we could afford.)  Second, although perhaps this should have been first, is the practical aspect of getting off the government wheel. Frankly, we need to keep saving for our dottage and there's no better way to do that than to keep our heads down and keep going.  

Now that that's decided (although see caveats above about our fickle nature), I've changed my mental pacing on the next ten years, knocking it back a gear from a dash to get onto the next greatest thing, to a steady chug.  More of a slow down and smell the roses sort of mentality, if you will. And you know what? Instead of feeling resigned, I feel more settled, like I don't have to wait to do what I really want, maybe I can start doing it now. 

Therefore, let this anniversary serve as a time to appreciate the best (and some of the worst) of this past decade in the hopes of fueling the next, and as proof that I can get through it and maybe keep on enjoying it along the way. 

Where to start? At the beginning. 

I loved the camaraderie of having two orientation classes: First as a Foreign Service Specialist and then as a Foreign Service Officer and excitement of TWO flag days!

FS Specialist Class - 2011

FS Officer Class "A-100" -2012

And now the moment we've all been waiting for...

Checking out our assigned house/apartment at post for the first time. THIS is the stuff!

Bogota: Now THAT'S a door!

Suburban life in Juarez

Daphne explores the house for the first time. 

Bine ati venit (welcome) to Bucharest's apartment life. 

Virginia apartment for our DC hardship tour.  

Notice the bikes in the living/dining room and mismatched furniture as we furnished the place from second hand stores. 

We love our San Salvador garden and you get used to the concertina wire quickly. 

Arriving at post to meet a great social sponsor who stocked your fridge, collected your pre-shipped boxes of cat food and litter, and took you out to dinner in your new neighborhood.

On the flipside - the social sponsor who promised all of the above and then suddenly had to go away on your arrival day, giving you less than 24 hours' notice that you were essentially on your own.  Yeah, that happened, too. 

Seeing the Embassy, Consulate or office for the first time and finding a campus with spots for outdoor lunches, walking paths, a pool (twice), cafeteria, landscaped grounds and an office with a window.  

Okay - I lie.  I've never had an office with a window, unless you count my visa window.  In fact, my first office, and by that I mean the entire Economic section shared by six people, was a repurposed supply closet.  No, not joking.  

Trying not to panic when your boss asks you to do something and not only are you not sure how to do it, you're very sure you have no idea what s/he is even talking about.  Like arranging for on-tarmac pick-up at an international airport for a VIP. (You can even DO that?) Yes, and there's a weird code name for it, too that I've forgotten. Picture your boss passing your desk on the way out the door and casually saying, "Oh hey, make sure you arrange for a Charlie 10 pick-up, too, 'kay?" 

Hearing some high-level muckety-muck talk about energy security policy and finding myself completely engrossed in the topic even though I'm a consular officer and likely will never have to deal with this, and then realizing he's the said-same muckety-muck for whom I arranged a Charlie 10 pick-up during his VIP visit to my last post.  Suddenly feeling all warm inside that I was part of something bigger than just the piss-ant details of the visit. 

Working on the Summit of the Americas in Cartagena

Watching the presidential motorcade arrive with our embassy local staff and seeing they were as excited about seeing Obama's arrival as I was. 

Getting to explore old-town Cartagena.

Hearing the spontaneous gasp and seeing tears of relief from an immigrant visa applicant after telling him/her that their visa has been approved. Knowing that after years of living undocumented in the United States, now for the first time they can return to their family and job without the daily fear of possibly losing it all. This happened a LOT in Juarez. 

Hearing the spontaneous gasp and seeing tears of shock from an immigrant visa applicant after telling them they were permanently barred from entry because when they were 19 they presented their cousin's U.S. birth certificate to border authorities in order to go shopping in Texas with friends.  Sadly, this also happened more than a few times in Juarez. 

Consulate 4th of July in Juarez with some of the women it was such a pleasure to call coworkers.

Juarez: Life on the X

Bien venidos a Mexico!

Settling into the first few weeks of FSI language class: pens, highlighter and a freshly creased open notebook arranged in front of me, reviewing the class schedule and flipping through the text book.  Feeling excited, optimistic and just a bit anxious about the prospect of realizing that in six months I would be professionally conversant in a language I had heretofore never heard. 

Crying in the FSI bathroom at month 5.5 of language training with a real conviction that I will never be able to pass that %$#@ language exam.

Back at Hogwarts!

Ole' Ben here to remind us why we're here. 

 

Going to work with my husband on our first day in Bucharest. For the first time, his embassy job was perfectly arranged to start upon our arrival. This was a landmark occasion as opposed to the many months' or years' wait of interviews, security clearances, dashed hopes and final resignation of unemployment that so often befall the spouses who agree to join this life to support our careers. 

Being the embassy's Fourth of July celebration MC, on stage with the Romanian Military Band, and presenting the Romanian President and our Ambassador to the crowd in Romanian, that language I had been crying about just two years prior.  Afterwards, kicking off my heels and dangling my feet in the embassy pool, glass of wine in hand, alongside two colleagues in quiet celebration that we'd made it through our second consular tour together and soon would each be headed to different parts of the globe. 

Arcul de Triumf on Romanian National Day

Castelul Peles, Sinaia, Romania

Pomp and ceremony of the 4th of July celebration in our final days in Bucharest

Standing in front of my umpteenth Con-Gen class (the consular officer general training class) to speak to new officers about the slippery slope of consular malfeasance. As the bright, shiny pennies raise their hands with "what if...?" questions, I find I can field them somewhat confidently from the experience I've gained overseas and during my tour within Consular Affairs headquarters. Geez, when did that happen? Wasn't I just a riding instructor a few years back?

So much more fun to see FSI as a teacher than as a student. 

Stepping out of the international airport for the first time and being struck immediately by the tropical humidity and absolute cacaphony of birdsong. Well hello El Salvador, nice to finally meet you!

Observing elections with a local colleague as part of a 15-team mission spread out across the breadth and width of the country. Feeling like a war correspondent as I slipped on the tan vest with "Electoral Observer" embroidered on the breast and hung my photo credentials around my neck. Chatting with other observation teams from around Latin America and comparing notes on what we'd been seeing. Realzing that what we'd been seeing was democracy in action via the peaceful transfer of power. 

Counting the vote in front of party representatives. 

Voter roles and an observer. 

Observer chatting with electoral officials. 

Volcano view over San Salvador.

Fishing village of Los Cobanos.

Over dinner, or the occasional gin and tonic, sharing work stories with my husband and realizing that he has as much consular experience as an family-member employee as I do as an officer. In fact, he knows 95 percent more than I about American Citizen Services and has accepted 100 percent more passports applications than I ever have. Like it or not buddy, it seems you've made yourself quite a career here. 

Not just listening in, but sometimes even contributing, to discussions on topics that later end up in the headlines as policy. 

Realizing that the feeling of "What am I doing here?" on the first day in a new office is getting a little less scary with each new assignment. 

Want to know what I don't love so much? Employee Evaluation Reports, the dreaded annual "EER" upon which our tenure and promotion are based. Once a year work stops as we each sweat over what to include, what to leave out, how to explain stuff while not coming off as an insufferable braggart nor a decorative doormat. ARGH. Everyone hates them, trust me, it's not just me. In fact, I remember a friend saying that when she left the Foreign Service for greener pastures, the first thing on her mind was "NO MORE EERs!"  

But some of the best perks of this job have been the local staff we've gotten to know along the way.  Maybe we've just been incredibly lucky in our assignments, but we've worked with only highly capable, friendly, welcoming, local colleagues who've put up with our thousands of questions and our regular mangling of their language. They've shared insider travel advice and told us the names of birds, trees, or food. They've taught us phrases to get us in trouble and ways to sound less foreign and pointed out cultural differences when we've wondered why things are the way they are. We've had far too many laughs, and we've learned who really runs the show.  

We had a great time with this crew!

Looks like we just might stick it out for another ten.  Well, we'll see...

Mid-Level Manager: Consular

That's me now, a mid-level consular manager.  The title doesn't inspire much awe, does it? In fact, it sounds downright cog-in-a-wheel-ish. 

I'll start by backing up a bit.  I actually became a mid-level officer in 2017 upon leaving Bucharest and starting my Washington assignment.  Mid-level describes the bulk of time one spends after being an Entry Level Officer (the first two directed assignments) and before being promoted into the Senior Foreign Service, should one get that far. There is a lot of range there, and even among the same rank (mid-level is FS 04 through FS 01, counting down as the ranks get higher) there is a lot of difference in the types of work one does depending on where you're assigned. You can be one of over 50, as it was for me in Juarez, or one of one.  From my A-100, I had two classmates who were shipped off to small posts to become sole consular officers to completely run the show with just the basic training under their belts (and hopefully well-seasoned local staff at the ready, but that's not always the case).  Thank God that wasn't me, lemme' tell you.  I'm not a jump-onto-thin-ice-and-figure-it-out-when-I-get-there kind of girl.  There are areas of risk where others might cringe where I'm more comfortable (public speaking - I'm on it), but being tossed into a leadership role with zero prior experience in the subject and I'm silently praying someone more ambitious next to me's hand shoots up to volunteer.  
Guess which one I am:

However, for this assignment - I feel decently prepared by having two adjudicating tours in very different environments and two years in Consular Affairs headquarters under my belt. I wouldn't have bid on the position if it felt like tooooo long of a stretch. Even so, there's a big difference between being a consular adjudicator and being the manager, and that's where I'm feeling the stretch. 

First of all, 8:00 am doesn't find me raising the blind in an adjudicating window and asking for someone's passport. That line snaking through the waiting room and out along the sidewalk isn't for me to work through anymore. And the nice folks with their arms full of folders and documents aren't popping their adorably-dressed kids onto the counter in front of me, daring me to refuse such a face. 

I miss it.  

I also miss not speaking the language every day to every type of person for at least four hours straight.  Hearing what life is like for the farmer, the student, the professional, the truck driver, the family of five, or the person hoping I won't notice that criminal history s/he failed to mention in their application.  

Yeah, I do miss it.

Instead, the morning starts in my office, greeting my coworkers, chatting (in English) about the weather or someone's breakfast as I log into the computer and start the day... managing. It's time to manage.  What does that MEAN? Delegating tasks? Being decisive? Being motivational? Guiding and correcting? Being the subject matter expert? Having vision? Signing papers they put in front of you? Or simply not screwing things up? 

I'm learning it means all of the above.  The hardest part, however, is that at the end of the day, there isn't always a tangible result to managing. Sure, you can look around the room and point to the fact that folks didn't quit en masse, work got done, and maybe there was some good conversations about things we should do, sometime, in the future.  But there's nothing as satisfying as seeing an empty waiting room where there once was a mob of activity and faces. Or hearing your colleagues down the line dropping their window shades and knowing that you all just adjudicated 600 applicants and survived the morning.

It's an adjustment to understand that the satisfyingly empty waiting room has been replaced by just getting through half of my daily to-do list. It's busy in a non-physical way, which is odd for me. It's keeping a lot of notes from a lot of meetings and wishing there was more time to actually DO the things that you've just written down.

Overall, it's moving the needle just a skosh - and having to be okay with that. 

While there are times when I feel kinda' like this:

When you're told you have to fill in at a meeting for someone three rungs up the ladder from you in a subject you have to Google first.

  Little by little, there are also times when, even if for just a moment, I feel like this:

Oh yeah, there are only 80 unread messages in my inbox!

Life Seen Through the Visa Window

I have now spent four years adjudicating non-immigrant (NIV) and immigrant visas (IV) in two countries, two languages, two cultures. 

At the NIV window, I have heard every story imaginable about why people want to visit the United States: from vacations in New York, Miami and Vegas to routine business meetings with headquarters; from cotton-pickers going to Arkansas to fish processors in Alaska; from PhD students in theoretical mathematics headed to M.I.T. to ESL learners going community college in Chicago; from teens competing in robotics competitions to one President; and along the way - about a billion exchange visitors coming to an amusement park or life guard chair near you. I've evaluated investors' business plans for a franchise in Texas or a start-up in San Diego.  I helped seamen get to their ships to bring our stuff from one place to another and saw pensioners' photos of the grandchildren they'll visit in Detroit. 

At the IV window I've heard (and seen the pictures) of how people met their fiance or spouse, how often they talk on the phone and what their wedding plans are. I've reviewed their criminal records, read about their medical conditions, noted how many tattoos they had and what they depicted, untangled how they entered the U.S. hidden in the trunk of a car and listened to the plans of Diversity Visa lottery winners settling in a country perhaps they've never before seen. I've told kids that I can't issue them an immigrant visa because actually, unbeknownst to their parents, they are already U.S. citizens. They say that adjudicating IVs has higher highs and lower lows and I've seen my decisions cause all types of tears: from issuing visas to parents who can now reunite lawfully with their families, to those who are permanently barred from entering the United States due to certain immigration law violations.

I've been flat-out lied to by ATM skimmers and gang members and have had the pleasure of refusing (or later revoking) their visas when the truth comes to light. I learned that when you let people talk by simply listening, most are surprisingly frank, especially those who've lived unlawfully in the U.S. for many years, as if finally admitting it out loud to an immigration official relieves them of a heavy burden. I just keep a flat expression and nod as they tell me their secrets. Every day someone makes me laugh and someone makes me shake my head in wonder.  Every day is the same job and every day is a different set of stories. 

There is a space on the visa application where they describe their current (or past) job. My all-time favorite was from a pensioner my colleague interviewed who simply wrote: 
"I made hats. Many hats. Maybe 600 hats." 

Summing up this tour, I follow his example.

I adjudicated visas. Many visas. Maybe 31,000 visas. 

Adios Juarez

It's finally here.

I don't mean "finally" as in Christmas morning, but rather "finally" as in that dreaded dental appointment. 

The last work day, the last hug goodbye, the last look around our house and garden, the last time we turn the car north and head for the border, the last crossing over the big sandy depression that is the Rio Bravo/Grande, the last chat with CBP and then we're away and into Texas.

Time is such a mercurial, fickle friend and sometimes enemy.  Time has both flown and crept since our February 2013 arrival. May to January slipped by in a blink, and yet it seems as if I've been aware of the passing of every hour in our last week. Yesterday we drove by the El Paso hotel where in Feb 2013 we spent the last night of our road trip south before meeting our social sponsor and heading across the border for the first time.  I saw the window of the hotel room where we stayed and remembered what I had been thinking as I looked out over the twin cities that would be our home. During the day it was all very beige (very beige!), and at night Juarez spread out beneath El Paso in a rolling, twinkling blanket of lights.  But the skies were so crisp blue (they still are) with the widest and brightest horizon I'd ever seen.  I think that horizon was emblematic of my time here: broad and full of possibilities. 

Professionally, this assignment could not have been better suited to me. Back in Bogota when I was an OMS and hoping to be a Consular Officer, I got some advice from one of the Consular managers that, should I make it to A-100, I should seriously consider going to the border for everything I could learn there.  (Sorry Canada, but when we say "border post," we're usually talking about the southern border.)  I'm sure I smiled and nodded, tucking away her advice, all the while privately thinking that I wanted to go somewhere far more exotic.  But she was right. Cutting one's teeth in arguably one of the most complex immigrant visa sections in the world has been an incredible learning experience for me. 

Personally, our time here has been equally satisfying.  That's such a milquetoast word, "satisfying," for something so meaningful.  The most important elements to a successful tour are often completely unrelated to the actual job. Is your family happy? Do they like their jobs/schools? Are the pets safe and comfortable? How do you like your house/apartment? Do you like the local food? What is the weather like? Are there fun things to do outside of work and friends to share them with?  Everything has come our way in each of those categories.  In fact, I'm a bit worried that we've used up all our Foreign Service luck in that respect. 

I think I've made my point that I've loved it here. And that's why it's so sad to see that the time has come to close the doors on this experience and move forward.  And why I feel so guilty thinking that time is now my enemy, barely crawling by when I just want to get it over with and go. This is by far the hardest part of a Foreign Service life: the departures. Not the technical pain-in-the-butt stuff like pack-out and writing EERs, but the "it's not goodbye, it's see you later" when you're pretty sure it really is goodbye. 

So I'm just going to leave you with a really snappy song and video about our dusty, ole' city and a few pictures that I hope show this place off. It's not a beautiful city, but the soul of the place and the people here make it as warm as it is hot. Our Consul General, in giving a going away speech for a few of us, said that there are some posts worldwide that are "snakebit," meaning that no matter how lovely the setting - they're just full of bad juju that persists year after year. He didn't know what the opposite of that was to describe this consulate, sunkissed perhaps, but he's right.  Through all the tragedy the city and post have endured, the soul and spirit continues to welcome. I'm proud to have been a little part of it all.

With that...

Ciudad Juarez es Numero Uno! Just try to get this song out of your head afterwards. 

A blanket of lights on both sides of the border

Amazing skies and Juarez's mountains to the west.

Best sunsets!

The Equis (X) at the crossing of countries and cultures

La bandera grande, slowly waving in the sun rays

Thank you for everything my friends. It's time to head north.

Reaching Out: On a Mission in Mission Mexico

(A quick note before I start: my husband truly bristles to hear me, or anyone, use the phrase "reaching out" when the speaker really means that they are going to talk to, write to or in any other way CONTACT another person.  So just to tease him, I titled this posting as I did.)

I am a Consular Officer by cone, but my actual job is that of a Foreign Service Officer Generalist, which means we're all supposed to be able to wear any/many hats when needed.  Lately I've been wearing the Public Diplomacy hat as part of the Immigrant Visa Mexico Outreach team.  The team consists of three officers and two local staff members who divide into teams of two with the goal of visiting each consulate and the embassy in Mission Mexico.  There are ten in total, so this means lots of travelling for our little crew. 

All the immigrant visas (IV) for Mexico are processed in Ciudad Juarez.  The Embassy in Mexico City used to process a small slice of the IV pie, but as of very recently that is all being transferred to Juarez to be housed under one roof.  The other consulates and the Embassy, in terms of visas, process only non-immigrant (NIV) visas (for tourism, students, temporary workers etc...).  Therefore someone smart figured out that it would be great if people trained in the processing of IVs would familiarize the NIV staff throughout the country on the topic of IV and how to better respond to people who have immigrant visa-related questions.  Also, there are thousands of potential petitioners and applicants for immigrant visas here in Mexico, and so much misunderstanding about the complex process, therefore community outreach is more than just a good idea, it's really a necessity. 

So that's how I found myself on a couch next to the beautiful, young morning talk show hostess in her shorty-short dress, stilettos and long, Sofia Vegara hair in Merida, Mexico last week.  And on air with Senor Suave the mustachioed veteran radio and TV host in Tijuana last month. And in front of an indigenous community group serving the Mayan population of the Yucatan. And typing as fast as we could to answer the questions pouring in via a couple of live Facebook chats.  

It's all in the name of reaching out, errrr, contacting people who want to learn about the immigrant visa process, the process in which people can enter the US lawfully and apply to become Legal Permanent Residents.  As Mexico (namely Juarez) processes approximately 19-20% of the world's immigrant visas, there is a big crowd of people who want to learn more about the topic.  

With less than three months to go before we leave post, I feel I'm finally becoming more fluent in the topic and am ready to take on new challenges. Trust me, being on-camera live was a VERY new challenge. I have new-found appreciation for how talk show or radio hosts can really make a guest feel comfortable (or the opposite), how they can make smooth transitions between questions and responses on topics they previously knew nothing about (from "how to make the best banana bread!" yesterday to "how to petition for your wife and kids to come to the US!" today) and can help their guests deliver the desired message. We got lucky with some very good hosts, which helps build confidence poco a poco.

I think we did a decent job; at least there were no questions about US involvement in Middle East conflicts (or any similar nightmare) like we were trained to handle during the "Composure Under Fire" portion of A-100. I know I made grammatical errors in my Spanish (oh, yeah, did I mention this was all in Spanish? Just adds to the fun, right?) and I wished I could have rephrased quite a few answers given a Groundhog Day opportunity to do it over again, but no international incidents were caused and perhaps we even helped a few folks. 

Live! Coming to another Mexican border city near you - your immigrant visa outreach crew!

TDY: Lessons Learned

Last summer I was selected to come to US Consulate General Monterrey for an entire month with three coworkers to help them in their busy season, and it was a great experience.  So this year I raised my hand again when the call for volunteers went out for more TDYers (Temporary Duty-ers) to go to Monterrey to help them segue into their brand new Consulate.  This time it was only for one week, but perhaps that was the right amount of time given that I only have six months left in Juarez and a husband and three Tabbies to miss.  

Ten of us from Mission Mexico were selected, along with numerous  local staff (two from Juarez, including one who always makes me laugh, like the time that she said that her horrible handwriting was only because she "had her own font").  We descended on Monterrey to Adjudicate In Their Time Of Need!  Well.... fate had something else in store for us.  Perhaps you heard it on the news that the CCD was "down."  In English, that means that the Consular Consolidated Database was, basically, broken leaving all posts worldwide unable to fully adjudicate visas.  We could interview folks, but we couldn't complete the process to send the visas to the printing queue.  This system snafu included American citizens who were trying to renew their passports and a bunch of high-profile celebrities and world leaders who were awaiting their US visas for legitimate travel.  Bottom line - a headache on a world scale.  (My favorite appropriate quote: to err is human, but to really screw things up takes a computer.) 

So here we are, over a dozen of us in our hotels in Monterrey, excited to be out on assignment with suitcases packed with appropriate clothing and our brains locked and loaded to work hard and work fast to help out this busy season and Monterrey in their new facility.

And the CCD was down and we couldn't do 85% of what we came to do. 

The powers that be decided that there was no point in sending us home because we still couldn't do there what we couldn't do here.  Especially considering all the airline change fees and additional administrative hassle that comes with changing airline and hotel reservations.  Therefore we interviewed as many folks as we could (Thursday appointments were completely cancelled) and finally by Friday afternoon were able to actually issue about 15% of the cases we had adjudicated.  

Being a TDYer is relaxing in a way because one can focus simply on doing the Consular work we came to help with: interviewing.  There isn't the additional pressure of taking care of all the outside portfolio work (whatever projects, teams, visits you've been assigned to) that your home post demands.  Plus, you have a new environment to explore.

In the case of Monterrey, I had already checked off a good bit of the tourist list last summer and felt comfortable in familiar environs.  Same hotel, same shuttle van, same restaurants for dinner, same hotel breakfast buffet, same pool of applicants - it all came back even after one year of absence.  But what was the cherry on top was the incredible new Consulate facility that opened just a week prior to our arrival. The post went from an outdated, cramped, stinky, sitting-on-each-others'-laps Consulate that did not have enough windows for everyone to adjudicate at the same time, to a building that looks and feels more like a modern art museum - all I can say is Wow!  

This time my Juarez colleagues and I were mixed in with officers from Matamoros, Nuevo Laredo and Tijuana, giving us a great opportunity to share "how do you do it? here's how we do it" best practices (and war stories, of which Consular officers have many).  We got to meet and work with new folks and learn more about posts we may/may not want to work in in the future.  It's great, to be honest, even if for a week.

Going on two TDYs isn't uncommon when assigned to Juarez, and a bunch of officers have even had three assignments.  We're used as a "donor" post to Mission Mexico because we are well-staffed and generally not over-stressed as some posts are. Therefore we have the luxury of being able to send a few warm bodies hither and yon to help out as needed.  

It's Friday night and we've done all we could and tomorrow we'll scatter back to our home posts.  The CCD is still not functioning 100% and the case load at home is not going away nor is the tide of incoming applicants receding - but for now we can enjoy a bit of ignorant bliss. And enjoy the views.

Please enjoy a few snapshots taken from the new US Consulate General in Monterrey.  If anyone reading this is considering bidding on Mexico - take these pictures into consideration:

View from the terrace where you can eat your lunch everyday

Now that's a backdrop!

Nearby American School - families with kids can now return to Monterrey

Yeah, this could be the view from your desk

On my final evening here, I took advantage of the free drink coupon we got upon check-in to have a glass of white wine by myself in the hotel atrium lounge. The view was only slightly different from this one above, different mountain peaks mostly.  Sitting alone, I tipped my head back against the overstuffed lounge chair and gazed out over the hotel's lush landscaping and fountains to the rocky peaks of the Eastern Sierra Madre.  Birds flitted by the atrium windows, doing their birdy business, and in this absence of modern world distractions, I digested all I'd seen and learned in the past week.  The cases I'd heard and decisions I'd made; the personalities and management styles and what I could learn from them; the stresses of the CCD crashing and how we all worked around it.  It all pales in comparison to the sight of these volcanic peaks, making me and my preoccupations seem silly and minute.  Life moves on, CCDs crash and then work again, applicants come and then go, puzzles are solved and either learned from or forgotten. Yes, this is what goes on behind my eyes while I sit mesmerized watching water coursing around rocks in a stream, a campfire or a 12,000 foot peak.

Being surrounded by the beauty of nature helps me put things in perspective and not let myself get wound up in the drama de jour, which is so easy to do wherever one is. Tomorrow brings the return trip home and the excitement of seeing husband and Tabbies again.  Then Monday morning when I slip my badge over my neck and head back to the window, I'll have all that I absorbed here still in mind: both the calmness gained from being in beautiful surroundings and the collective wisdom of working with dozens of new people in a challenging situation.  Who knows if the Data Engineers will find that one loose plug that started this all, or fire the guy who spilled his coffee on the server and everything will be dandy again, but either way, there's no use getting too wound up about it.  Just look out the window and enjoy the view and remember that this too will pass. 
Thanks TDY.