Six Months In

This week marks the six-month point here in the borderland. Has it gone quickly, or slowly? Both. Six months, or 25% of the way through our time in Juarez, sounds like it has gone very quickly. However, obviously that means that we have 75% of our tour left. But then when I think that if I had stayed on as an OMS in Bogota, we would only now be leaving post - that makes it feel like we still have an eternity to go here. Because in the year that has passed since we left, I've changed careers, spent another six months at FSI, moved to Post Two and met a passel of new friends. So in that respect the time has moved slowly as it's been packed with new experiences. 

But now that we're settled into the wake up, work, what's for dinner?, feed the cats, what are we doing this weekend?, back to sleep routine, I'm certain that the days will start to rubber-stamp their way through the calendar pages. 

On that note, I'd like to talk about the life I've settled into as a first-tour Consular Officer. Before doing so - a bit (more) of a preamble: there is so much I wish I could share about the experience that I just can't. There are people who comb all sources of information regarding the whole visa/immigration process who would jump on any crumb of information and might try to use it against me, my colleagues, the Department etc... so I can only share generalities. I wish I could be more detailed, as I've learned tremendous amounts in this past year... but I just can't. 

Am I happy for the switch from being an OMS to a Consular Officer? 
Yes, 100%. 
Now in saying that, I feel like a traitor to my great OMS friends I've met along the way. But really it has nothing to do with being an OMS being a bad job at all, but for me, Consular is just a better fit. I am eternally grateful for everything I learned and the trial-by-fire I went through in a very busy Economic Section in one of the world's largest posts, and draw on that experience nearly every day here. However, the interview window is where I've wanted to be all along and raising my blind each morning and greeting the first applicant of the day just hasn't lost its luster. 

Really? Luster? 
Yes. 
I feel like I've found the right spot for myself and perhaps that means that I'm a true Consular Officer, as I'm not sick of it. Even on the busy days where I spend only a few minutes in each interview, I still enjoy seeing the applicants' faces and looking straight into their eyes while I hear a slice of their lives. The children are darling: from the little ones whose tiny fingers are near impossible to fingerprint, to the teenagers who giggle and say they just want to go to the US to go clothes shopping with their families, or visit aunts, to the huge grins of those who have been promised trips to Disney by their parents. I've had two little girls blow me kisses and one young boy instantly start jumping up and down and hugging his mother around her legs upon hearing the good news. 

Naturally it's not all smiles and thank yous, as clearly we have to uphold immigration law. Making determinations on ineligibilities and delivering the news in a matter-of-fact way is part of the job, too. So far there have been no tantrums, only a few cold stares and more tears of joy than of disappointment. That could be due to the nature of our applicant pool, however, as I've had colleagues in other countries report swearing, window pounding and overt threats after negative decisions were delivered. 

But with routine and familiarization comes a quickening of the passing of time. Already we're saying goodbye to colleagues and have watched them drive towards the border for the last time. In a way I'm envious seeing them pull out and head towards their new destinations, but at the same time I'm thrilled with all the possibilities that are still on the horizon for us here. Not just the weekend exploring we hope to do, but also the depth of professional training and experience that I'll receive. Sooner or later I will move into the complexities of the immigrant visa section, for which our Consulate is arguably the busiest in the world, and possibilities of rotations into American Citizen Services, Fraud Prevention, or the Communications Unit keep me from feeling like the road is simply long and featureless. I want to soak in as much as possible here, where we have awesome training and guidance, and take it all on to Post Three. Plus, my husband is getting ingrained in his new job and has started to talk about everything he's learning being applicable to future interesting work.

Speaking of which... the next oasis in hazy view is the arrival of our bid list, which we hope to get our mits on by the end of the year. Until then, I will soak in as much as possible of this interesting and constantly challenging work and day dream, sometimes out loud to my husband, about "where it might be nice to go next." 

Thank you nice person who took this photo and put it on Google Images. It's not that green down here.

Not My Bid List

Pardon the extended silence - I'm still on R & R visiting family and feeling very removed from my FS life. I've had time to think while watching the edge of Lake Tahoe lap against the rocks and a few things have come to mind:

First, after all my talk about being happy to be back in the US and back to the familiar - I'm now seeing the US through different eyes. It feels like cheating being here. What I mean is, it's too darn easy. I can form whatever sentence I want without thinking about it first. I can understand overheard conversations from the next table. I understand the driving habits. Tim and I keep finding ourselves starting sentences with, "Well in Colombia..." which I'm sure has a maximum of about four times before people stop listening. Being OUT of the country, we've become avid Colombia promoters, in fact, it's reached a point where I think the Colombian Tourist Board (if there is such a thing) owes me at least a nice lunch for all the travel recommendations I've given.

My R & R will last two work weeks, plus an extra Monday off when we return for a Colombian holiday, but it feels like I've been away for a very long time. I've been able to see a lot of family, which is good because when I leave Bogota and my OMS life for A-100 - I'll be starting from scratch as an entry-level officer. This means no annual leave during training. Two more directed assignments. Resetting the tenure clock. It will be quite a while before the next R & R is authorized.

I'm going to use this as a (shaky) segue to talk about the OMS bid list that my classmates all received the day I left for R & R. I didn't get this list from my Career Development Officer, as I'd already given her the news of my leaving the OMS ranks, but instead my FSI classmates sent me the list so I could spin the "What If" wheel and imagine what I'd be bidding on if I weren't switching over to "the dark side" (as we called it in Specialist Orientation).

So what was on the list, and what would we have chosen? Well, I don't know if I'm allowed to note the actual list, so to be conservative, I'm going to lump them together:

• 12 African posts, including one unaccompanied and my "dream" post that I jealously watched go to someone a few classes after mine.
• 7 Asian posts, including one in which we can't officially recognize the country and therefore the original Flag Day recipients got only District of Columbia flags instead.
• 6 posts necessitating Spanish skills, one for Russian and two for French.
• 6 desirable European capitals.
• A few islands that would make cat importation horrible.
• Some Middle East assignments that would get Tim over his urge to be in the sunshine again in a big hurry.

Many of these positions were from our own bid list last March, and inevitably some of my classmates will end up swapping jobs. However, I already know that I have three friends who have volunteered, and been selected, for positions in what is known as "AIP," or Afghanistan, Iraq and Pakistan. In fact, I have one good friend going to each letter in that acronym. Volunteers for AIP are solicited before the regular bid list comes out, so that people who are not selected for these posts can be notified in time to go through the regular bidding process. Everyone has until early July to turn in their rankings of high, middle and low and they'll learn of their second post rather unceremoniously by mid-July. Meanwhile, back on the FSO side, I'll get my bid-list probably on July 17th, our first official day on the FSI campus, and will enjoy a second Flag Day about a month later. Yes, I'm soooo looking forward to it. As they say, no matter how seasoned the veteran - everyone remembers their Flag Day and I'm excited to get two.

Meanwhile, a new crop of OMS hopefuls has just started to receive their invitations to the Oral Assessment. The cycle continues - out with the old, in with the new. I hope to cheer on some friends for their own OAs, and will live vicariously through their excitement as they move through the process.

Next stop: Last Month in the Embassy.

Ten Years Ago Today

Shortly before there was "the plan" between my husband and me to live abroad, there was "the trip." Beginning ten years ago today, I took off on an eight-month backpacking trip around the world. (Technically it was "around the world" as I continued to head east the whole way until popping up on the other side; however, there were a handful of continents I missed.) This period in my life is on my mind now not only because it's the 10th anniversary, but because it was that trip that solidified my drive to have a life that reached further than my neighborhood. At that time although I obviously knew about embassies and Ambassadors and diplomats, I'd never heard of the Foreign Service, per se. I didn't have a Master's degree in international relations (or any other subject, for that matter); I just knew in a misty sort of way that I wanted to do something on a larger scale.


SEATAC Airport Homecoming 2002



Ten years later, have I succeeded?

Does being an OMS in an embassy equate to "something larger"? I'm going to say yes, it does.

I'm not out there negotiating hostage releases or preserving endangered species and the forests they live in - true. But I do have a front-row seat to those who are and do. The piece of the pie for an OMS is to do all the stuff that would otherwise occupy the time of the people who ARE out negotiating treaties, or insuring intellectual property rights, or hashing out agreements on fishing permits, or ensuring that the military equipment we give other countries ends up in the right hands. I'm surrounded by important stuff, even if I'm simply making the travel arrangements for those who are DOING it.

I suppose I could feel inferior for taking this supportive role, but I don't. An OMS should like to make things easier on people, and I do. It was just a little thing, but one of my proudest moments in my new job was to receive an e-mail from a government traveler from DC who I'd been helping, who said, "It's people like you who give working for the government a good name."  It's not an international treaty - but it made me feel successful.

Plus, for my own part and that of my husband's, we're living "the plan" in an ever-changing and ever-challenging life that keeps us feeling alive. Yes, it keeps us complaining, adjusting, and hoping, too - but doesn't that happen in any life? It may have taken ten years (well, nine as we started last year), but I do feel like I've realized a dream, reached a horizon.

So now that I'm feeling settled and satisfied, another thought comes to mind. To explain it, I have to (roughly) quote one of my favorite movies: "There is no end-zone dance; you're never finished!" I learned on Friday that the person only three spots ahead of me on the Consular Register just got an invitation to A-100 for July. As my husband said, "fasten your seat belts!"  These coming months could get interesting!

Monday Morning After the Summit

Greetings from Cartagena, Colombia - the Monday morning after the Summit. It feels like the day after the prom, not because I now have a fancy dress I'll never wear or regrets about having too much to drink - but because after all the preparation, hopes, expectations and build-up about what it would be like, the excitement as the limos arrived, the adrenaline surge of being in the midst of it all - it's all over and life moves on in a normal Monday-morning fashion.

For those of you who don't know what I'm talking about and who apparently weren't glued to CNN Espanol this weekend: Colombia hosted the Summit of the Americas, preceded by a CEO Summit with head-honchos from Big Business. 33 heads-of state and many, many Ministers and Secretaries from the western hemisphere arrived en masse to discuss common matters of importance to those of us sharing the hemisphere. Imagine what my General Services Officer colleagues went through arranging the airport logistics for the landing, parking and departure of all those presidential aircraft!

These Summits occur every three years, with the last one being held shortly after President Obama took office in 2009. Secretary Clinton was also present, so in State Department speak, this was a POTUS, S visit, trumped only by the royal flush of a POTUS, FLOTUS, S visit. But they weren't just popping in; they were here for three days and two nights, an eternity in terms of logistics to all involved. Also here were two Congressional Delegations (CODELs) the Secretary of the United States Trade Representative (USTR) and an assortment of VIPs from the Ambassador and Assistant Secretary level, each requiring their own Control Officer to handle their movements, meetings, accommodation, translation, meals - EVERYTHING. I'm not mentioning their ranks to try to impress, but rank is everything in the State Department, as it is in the military, and the higher the rank, the more scurrying around behind-the-scenes that is required. These details are arranged to the 'nth degree to the point where as the VIP begins to bend their knees, they can have a reasonable expectation that a chair of their favorite design, with a cushion covered in a pre-approved fabric, adjusted to the pre-determined perfect height - will immediately and smoothly be placed beneath their descending backsides.

I haven't written in a while for two reasons: naturally I couldn't divulge any of our preparations before the fact for security of the parties involved, but also because we've been darn busy! Some of us more so than others, such as my co-workers in the ECON Section who were given very meaty assignments and whom I hold in incredible esteem for the hours they put in. As the preparations were coming to a full-boil on Thursday night, I saw one such colleague in our Control Room well after the rest of us had gone out to dinner, enjoyed dessert and had gone for a stroll through the city streets, still feverishly working on the details of her two assignments. I asked her how it was going, to which she was only barely able to glance at me and sigh, "Dude..." which I understood completely.

I think you may be getting the picture that the Summit was a Very Big Deal for all involved: for the country of Colombia as a success story to be hosting it, for the embassy and our Ambassador to be hosting it for our Washington principals, and for our President and Secretary to be here to discuss Very Important Issues with their hemispheric colleagues.

My little slice of the action was to staff the Secretary's Secretariat. A mouthful that means that I worked in Hillary's private office where her Line Officers (the folks in DC who arrange everything for her) and the senior staff members of her traveling party come to work. There are written requirements stipulating that besides x numbers of copiers and dedicated copier techs on call, y number of highlighters and reams of paper, z number of red, black and blue pens - there also must be two OMSes present. As the office runs 24/7 - thankfully, the Embassy assigned three of us to staff it. The Secretary's advance team suggested that the three of us "work it out amongst ourselves" as to who got which shift and, having done it for over a year at the police department previously - I volunteered to take the overnight shift. I walked to work each night through the city teeming with late-night restaurant diners, people dressed up and tottering off to the next salsa club or past bleary-eyed coworkers finally tearing themselves away from their computers, and made my way to the HQ hotel to my shift. I must admit,  the overnights were fairly quiet as by midnight when I checked in, the next day's preparations had been taken care of. But I was there - ready to jump into action should the need arise, and I was able to feel more productive in the mornings as the Secretary's staff came into the office to start their days with last-second adjustments to the schedule, printing of news  story compilations and the continual preparations for the next stop on their tour (Brazil).



During the daytime, before heading back to my hotel to sleep to prepare for the next night, I found myself asking innocent questions to certain VIPs I'd see in the hotel or street, such as, "How is everything going so far for your stay?"  Simple questions that led to horror stories about duplicated reservations at two hotels, suddenly missed flights, and forgotten/misplaced bags. However, I felt very satisfied to be part of their solutions and received some heart-felt thank-yous from the visitors. More than the gecko gave me, for sure.

Let's get to the goods: Did I get to meet the President? Did I get to swap pant-suit recommendations with Hillary?

No.

Sadly, I do not have a lovely picture of myself with either of them to share here. Just blocks of text. I did see POTUS arriving to the Convention Center from my hotel rooftop, though. My off-work coworkers and I stood at the rooftop railing and watched the procession of presidential motorcades arrive to the main event across the street from our hotel. We tried to figure out which country was arriving by the size and configuration of the motorcades. Guyana (we supposed) arrived in what looked like a rented  blue Ford Fiesta and someone's borrowed Jeep. The US motorcade was unmistakable in its excess: not only did we have a caravan of matching black vehicles including a black ambulance bringing up the rear (my mom says that the President refers to it as the graveyard Hummer), but we were the only ones to come with lights, sirens, flags, limos and a line of perhaps 25 vehicles. It was really cool - but also rather over-the-top. I choked up a bit to see how excited my Colombian embassy coworkers were to see "our" President arrive.

On the final day, the Secretary came down to the hotel lobby for photo ops  with the staff. There were clusters of Marines for one picture, hotel staff for another, our Security officers for a third and then the Control Room staff in a fourth. But - and this kills me - they said it was not traditional for her to pose with her Secretariat staff and so I was on the wrong side of the camera for each of these pictures. There will be no newly-framed and proudly-displayed picture on my desk tomorrow morning. Just the memories (sniff, sniff). But I must say that the Secretary looks beautiful in person: graceful and gracious and a lot less tired than in many of the photos I've seen. Which is remarkable given the travelling schedule I've seen her put through!

Over-all this has been an amazing experience. I understand how highest-level, multi-lateral communications work now better than ever before. I see the importance of such Summits as opportunities in everyone's busy schedules to hash out matters of global pertinence. I knew that the Secretary went out dancing until 2:00 am before the press did and I learned how to catch a gecko with a water glass and a newspaper.

What more can I ask for?

Next edition: The photos of Cartagena!

Other Duties As Assigned

Each of us has this little caveat at the bottom of our job descriptions, right? The fine print that allows your supervisor to send you on odd errands or assign you to that committee that nobody else raised their hand for. I'd like to share a few of my recent "other duties" that an OMS might encounter. By no means were these horrible, in fact - they were pretty fun, but just slightly off my usual beaten path:

1. Situation: The Doc Drop.

A VIP visitor from DC needs some important documents delivered to him NOW. These documents will be emailed to me, the OMS staying in the office keeping the home fires burning while my supervisor is with VIP out and about at high-level meetings all day. The documents are classified, therefore I can't just request a courier to deliver them. But where and how to rendez-vous with this moving party? The visit is going to be in a police-escorted motorcade following a Minister to a meeting with the President and the VIP must have the documents before the meeting. I arrange with motor pool for a car and driver to take me to the route the motorcade will be using. We park alongside the curb and wait and wait and wait for our moment to pounce. Finally, the motorcade driver warns us by cell phone that they're approaching. We can hear the sirens of the motorcade; the driver starts the engine and gets ready. The motorcycle cops with lights and sirens come first, then the Minister's vehicle, then the embassy's van with the VIP inside. Our driver guns the engine and we fly from the curb, tucking into the motorcade behind the embassy vehicle and in front of the (probably  rather concerned) rear police escorts. We're flying down the hill now towards the Presidencia, where our vehicle has not been authorized to enter, and realize we have to make the document hand-off somewhere very quickly. A red light with cross-traffic stalls the motorcade for just a second before the escorts can clear the intersection and I see my chance. With the vehicle hardly stopped, I leap out the door and run up to the VIP vehicle, the door opens, my boss's hand appears, and as his vehicle pulls away - we complete the hand-off relay-baton style. I then walk back to the car where the driver and I are smiling and relishing in our success, before we head back uptown in the heavy traffic. Two hours of sitting in the van for two seconds of fun - but it was worth it!


     2. Situation: Who's a Scientist Now?

My Econ Officer colleague has invited me to a lunch at the embassy for Women in Science, not because I have any science background - but as a nice thank-you for my daily efforts (and, I suspect, because she wants all the seats filled). She promises that while all the guests will be Colombian except for the few from the embassy, I won't be called on to speak. I figure I can muster some polite chit-chat  in Spanish between bites and accept. The lunch starts with the guest of honor speaking of the importance of encouraging more young women to continue their studies in the sciences and how we should all be mentoring such in our various fields of science. Naturally, she has no idea there is an impostor at the table - me. As she finishes her talk, she then turns the  group's attention to the rest of us, seated in a U-shaped table eating our lunches. 
(Keep in mind this is ALL in Spanish:)
"Please, introduce yourself one at a time and tell us a little of your background."

As the introductions begin, I hear from the president of a university, a physicist, a professor, a cancer research scientist... and look, it's my turn next.

"Yes, my name is xyz and I'm actually an OMS. Yeah, it's kind of like a secretary. Yup, got a B- in Biology in high school. That's it. Really. Sorry for taking up your time. Shall I give back my chicken and fruit salad now and just leave politely?"

...is what's coming to mind.

Oh dear, all eyes on me. In Spanish now, I say something like:

"Hello my name is xyz and I'm your host's colleague (thought that sounded more impressive). This is my first year with the embassy and in my previous career (true, even if it was six years ago) I was a professional riding instructor, a career for which I studied equine sciences for years (two years, to be exact - but who's counting?)."

Ha! There was even a hushed, "Ohhh...? around the room as no one was expecting to hear that.

As the rest of the room introduced themselves, naturally, I thought of silly plays-on-words I could have managed to say regarding working in the "field of equine sciences - literally" but those things never come to us when we need them, do they? The rest of the lunch went fine and I used the old trick of engaging people by asking them questions about themselves, leaving little time for me to have to answer any about myself. Phew.

Moral of the story: Being an OMS means being ready to chip in anywhere and being able to punt with accuracy to get a job done.

Thank heavens they didn't ask us all to sing!

FS Life: A One Year Retrospective

One year ago today, the 119th Specialist Orientation started and I began my new Foreign Service life along with 68 classmates. I flew from the west coast to the east, and somewhere over the Mississippi River, my saying-goodbye sniffles dried up and I began to let myself get excited about what was in store. I arrived in Virginia, exhausted, with two freaked-out cats in carriers and suitcases stuffed with three weeks worth of suits and two years worth of hopes and expectations.

I was met by my first OMS friend who (literally) within minutes of seeing me settle the cats into their new apartment, was taking me grocery shopping and filling me in on everything I'd need. The next day I met the rest of my future classmates. We were a combination of specialties, from OMS to RSO (Regional Security Officers), from GSOs (General Services Officers) to FMs (Facilities Managers) with a smattering of health providers and HR specialists. We ranged in age from 22 to 59, and arrived in Virginia from all parts of the country and as many different backgrounds. That first day found us excited, exhausted and trying to figure out where to go, how to get there and what to do as we started at Main State for Day One. There was a day of in-processing where we got our badges and took our official oath. After that the briefings began: many speeches about "welcome to this great new life," and then something that confused most of us about travel credit cards that one year later I still don't know what are.

There is a new Specialist Orientation in session today, and I wish them the same incredible experience that the 119th had. As I'm feeling a bit sentimental, I thought I'd review the highs and lows of my first year working for the USG in the hopes of inspiring some, or just giving anyone who is interested a short look down the road of a possible new career and life:

Highs:

1. The friendships made at FSI and at post. People I would otherwise have never met who I don't have to explain this whole FS thing to. People who respond, "Wow that's great - I'll give you the name of my friend who's posted there" when you tell them you're moving to Uzbekistan. The bonds made through countless evenings in our Oakwood apartments, poring over our bid lists or the insane amount of paperwork we had to go through, all the while sharing a bottle of wine, fresh-baked cookies, stories from our former lives and too much laughter. BBQs and send-off parties as we all spread to the corners of the globe.
2. The excitement of Flag Day and learning what the next two years will bring me, my family and my friends. Already getting excited about the next bid list, the next post, the next set of friends, languages and challenges.
3. Language training and being able to put it to use in my new country.
4. Walking beside the enormous sandstone wall carved with "United States of America Embassy" and the eagle emblem and then past framed pictures of the President, the VP and Secretary Clinton when I come into work each morning and remembering who I'm working for.
5. A cool apartment with more than one bathroom and more armchairs than we'd ever had before (one for each cat, even). Plus a dining table with chairs for six!
6. Making phone calls, even if just to reserve hotel rooms, and saying that I'm calling from the Embassy of the United States and having that mean something to people.
7. Reading cables that offer interesting background to the news headlines. Or knowing about the news before it's news.
8. Seeing the massive Colombian flag waving near the embassy as I walk out to get the mail each day, its brilliant yellow contrasted against the dark green of the mountainous backdrop that reminds me that I'm on a different continent now.
9. Meeting regular people in Colombia, from my animal shelter friends, to taxi drivers, to people in stores, and doing my best to be a positive example of what an American is.
10. Finally not being freaked out by my work responsibilities and feeling proud of what my section accomplishes when we all work together.

Lows:

1. Being so far from family and friends back at "home," which is what I still find myself calling it. After a year, are we just distant memories?
2. Having nearly everything require 14 steps, three separate forms, a memo, and approvals from five different departments. Ah bureaucracy!
3. Seeing how difficult it is for family members to find fulfilling lives and not feel like 5th wheels to someone else's life.
4. Having a real face in mind when something horrible happens that makes the news. This year for me it was the bombings in Abuja, just down the road from two friends.
5. Worrying about a possible evacuation and what what we'd lose, how we'd get the cats out to safety.

I think it's a good thing to have a 2:1 highs to lows ratio, so I'll leave it off there and won't spoil the symmetry by complaining about really expensive cat litter or lousy traffic.

Overall, it seems like my 119th classmates are well-settled and enjoying their new lives. At least I haven't heard any grumblings. Sure, there have been some who have been far too busy to write back (hey Tajikistan - I'm talking about you!), but in general it's been a successfully adventurous year. My favorite story is from my OMS classmate who was depressed after being assigned her 10th pick (out of a list of 13). After only a few months at post she reported that, "they couldn't have picked a better place for me if they tried!" raving how she loved her job and new country. 

From the 119th this year we've already had a marriage, a divorce, a pregnancy (twins!) and a birth (not the same one), and probably an affair no one else knows about. Nobody has quit (that I know of) and we're too new to have anyone promoted or fired. But the coming years will bring more checks to this list, plus some will decide to separate from the service, and someone's spouse will join up to form a tandem.
So, I wish the new Specialists an equally cool journey these coming months. Fill us in on your Flag Day stories, if you would, and believe me - this next year is going to fly by.

The Other Path: To Consular?

To be an OMS or to be a Consular Officer? Discussion Part Two.

As promised, the other side of the coin. Perhaps it's the Gemini in me that makes me want to look around at what else might be out there, or perhaps it just takes me a longer-than-average time to get something right. I'm not sure which is the case here, but I find myself looking around the restaurant for a nicer table often - just ask my husband. So now, I'm comfortably ensconced in a nice job, lovely post, cool apartment - truly no complaints - and yet I'm getting excited looking forward to another change.

Let me back the story up a bit, for those who came in late. (For those who already know the story - go fix yourself a snack and scroll down a bit when you return.)

In 2009 I decided that I was going to be a Consular Officer. My husband and I attended a recruiting fair in Seattle and listened to active and retired members of the FS speak, both Specialists and Generalists, and I was instantly hooked. We drove home that afternoon sketching out plans for my FSOT preparation, which started the very next morning. I applied in the Consular cone and dove head-first into researching the life and job.

Why Consular and not Political or Public Diplomacy, or something else? Because after hearing the job descriptions and reading first-person accounts of what the work entailed, I saw it as a mix between law enforcement and customer service. This combination matched my professional background and personal interest perfectly. So I took the FSOT that year and passed, but unfortunately was not invited to the (dreaded) oral assessment in DC. Drat.

Meanwhile, the OMS option opened and it also seemed to fit me well, so I applied. I was invited to the oral assessment and within months was en route to orientation in DC. But still running in the background was this goal to become a Consular Officer. I had taken the FSOT again, passed, and this time, within days of receiving an invite to become an OMS, I was invited to the oral assessment in DC.

Blah blah blah... I passed the oral assessment in May 2011 and now have a valid Consular Officer candidacy. A second career path to explore. The one I wanted to begin with.

What to do? 

First, let me also explain that once one has passed all the hurdles and clearances (medical and security), their name is placed on a hiring register in rank order of their oral assessment score. It will live on this register for 18 months and not a day longer. Within that time, one's position on the register will rise and fall depending on how other candidates do on their oral assessments, how many points they receive for language skills or veteran's preference points. When I passed my oral assessment, I received a 5.4 score. It takes a 5.25 (rounded to 5.3) to pass, so I didn't exactly sail over the hurdle. I kinda' leaped and dragged a toe as I did so. In this difficult economy, the State Department is cutting back on hiring to the point of basically hiring to attrition. Meaning to the rate that people are quitting or retiring, instead of the big hiring surge that rode many people to new FS careers not long ago. This makes the process all the more competitive for those of us on the registers, and only the higher scores seem to be getting invitations to come aboard.

However, I have a slight advantage: as I am currently overseas on government orders, I am able to freeze, or defer, my candidacy for a maximum of two years. My 18-month clock is not currently ticking. I decided to be an OMS for one full tour before reigniting my candidacy. This would also give me the chance to increase my Spanish skills to - ojala - and pass the Spanish phone test . This test is offered to candidates to determine if they are eligible to receive extra language points. I need to achieve a level 3 to pass, and I was trained and tested at FSI to a level 2. See my dilemma?

What's so great about being a Consular Officer anyway that I'm not happy just being an OMS? Here are the pros and cons as I see them so far:

PROS:

I feel I would be contributing more as a Consular Officer. Am I contributing little as an OMS? No, but this just feels like the work would be more in the diplomatic line, more direct representation of the US to the rest of the world. I'd like to be a more visible face of the US to the general public, and as an OMS it is more limited.

I loved my previous job in law enforcement (civilian position - I wasn't a cop) and this seems like it would be much the same. As described on State's official website a Consular Officer must "explain/uphold U.S. immigration policy in a professional, fair and compassionate manner." I can do that! I want to do that!

There's also the American Citizen Service (ACS) side of being a Consular Officer where I'd be assisting Americans in need abroad. I'd be helping people who have bad luck, people who do dumb things, people who are criminals and should rightly be locked up - true, but also Americans who lose their passports on vacation, or who have a child abroad, or who retire overseas and want help getting their social security payments. There are certainly as many ACS scenarios to attend to as there are Americans abroad and this sounds like it will provide an endless source of variety and challenge for the restless mind.

Training!  Starting with ConGen at FSI, complete with mock visa interview windows and a jail cell with rubber rats to practice prison visits, I'd receive lots of training at first, and ongoing, on immigration/visa law and ACS services.  I love training!

In the last entry I talked about the pay scale and how as an OMS I would top-out as an FS-03 after starting as an FS-07. However, FS Officers start a few rungs up the ladder, depending on previous experience, and after two tours it would not be unheard of to be promoted to an FS-03. I'm not only in this for the money, but everyone has a retirement to think about, not to mention the tabbies to keep well fed.

Did I mention "CD" (corps diplomatic) plates on the Ranger instead of the "AT" (administrative/technical) that we currently sport? What does this mean: free airport parking in Bogota, for one. Okay, that's a trivial point, but it's still true. That's why I put it last.

CONS:

People love to complain about "working the line" and what a drag it is. By that, I mean the visa interview line. At a visa mill such as Bogota, Consular Officers conduct 100-120 interviews every day. They have to be quick, yet thorough. They have to tell the nice people that they really don't need to see the shopping bag full of documents they brought, and could they please just respond directly to the questions posed to them in a kind and polite, yet firm and efficient, manner. They need to make important judgments about whether or not the person in front of them is coming to the US with the intention of violating US immigration law, or worse.

This can be stressful; this can be monotonous. Fortunately, I'm innately interested in other people's lives, so I think this will also be interesting. Friends in Consular have warned me that this is interesting... for about three months. I still think I'll like it.

More thoughts, neither PRO nor CON:

On my Statement of Interest (a required part of the oral assessment), I wrote about my last job and how I learned a lot about customer service, specifically:

"It was a different type of customer service, the type where you occasionally had to say not to uphold a policy or procedure. It wasn't 'the customer is always right,' and it taught me that I can still serve people well even when not giving them the answer they had hoped for." 

 
I really meant that, and I think it'll be a worthy personal challenge to put my money where my mouth is, shall we say, and find that balance between law enforcement and customer service. I'm ready!

So, it doesn't sound like there is much deciding to do, does it?
Yes, I'm fairly certain that I've convinced myself of the right path, and not just because it's a new path. What is holding me back is purely the state of hiring in the coming year and whether or not I can nudge myself up the register with Spanish points.

For all aspiring OMSes out there, please don't feel as if I'm discounting the value of our profession. I just feel that the other side of the coin is shinier for me. If it doesn't work out for me - I'll be happily OMSing to the next post and perhaps I'll see you out there. You'll recognize me; I'll be the one at the lunch table asking the Consular Officers for the latest good story.

Thanks for listening.

The Road Branches: OMS or Consular?

Today I was chatting (via e-mail) with my good OMS friend in a neighboring country when I realized that exactly one year ago this month, we were doing the very same thing. Now that may not sound very interesting until I tell you that at the time, I was in Washington state and she was in California and we were both obsessing over how our security clearances were going, and whether or not we were going to get an invitation to the next Specialist Orientation, and just in general imagining what our lives would be like as OMSes. We had met each other through the OMS Hopefuls Yahoo group during our application process and were fortunate enough to end up in the same orientation together last March.
So now it's one year later and we're still writing each other from work, but this time it's business-related: the VIP that our section is hosting is about to head to her embassy and section, and I was filling her in on how the visit was going from our end. From OMS Hopefuls, we've grown into colleagues in one short, but eventful year.


I can confidently say that we're both happy with our decisions to join the FS, our posts and our work. However, and you knew this was coming, we both acknowledge that perhaps OMS-hood is not a forever state of being for either of us, and perhaps for different reasons. For me, the State Department is going to be a "forever" thing, meaning until I hit the mandatory retirement age of 65. But I can't stop thinking about the other side of coin, and for me that would be my Consular Officer candidacy.


I'm writing this today because I'd like to share what seven months of experience has taught me about these two jobs. Seven months in one embassy is obviously a narrow window through which to view a behemoth organization like State, but it's all I know so far. And in truth, my opinions have been flavored by those of more senior coworkers on endless van rides to and from work, by overhearing conversations, reading cables, management notices and other blogs, and via lots of nosy questions to friends over cafeteria lunches.


To compare the two paths, I'll start today with what I know best, being an OMS.
PROS:
This job offers lots of variety. In one tour I could work in the Economic or Political Section, and in the next the Regional Security Office and in the third, perhaps  in the Front Office for a DCM or Ambassador. The subject matter and office environments will vary greatly, and as an OMS, particularly in the Front Office, I'd be the hub of what's going on and privy to a lot of information.


Yes, Generalists can, and frequently do, take assignments "out of cone" (hence the title). Meaning, for example, a Political Officer doing an Economic tour, or a Public Diplomacy Officer working in Consular; however, once established, it seems that Generalists continue to progress within their cone. But an OMS can bop all over the place.
Nearly every post has an OMS, so I won't be limited to only being assigned to certain posts - which could be good or bad, actually. However, if I were an HR Specialist or Public Diplomacy Officer, I mightn't have the same options.


When the VIPs come to town, an OMS will certainly be in the thick of things in terms of logistics and planning, but without the joy of endless meetings, late-night airport pick-ups and early morning hotel check-outs that come along with the VIP treatment. (Unless it's a CODEL, in which case anyone with a pulse is called to active duty. POTUS coming? Your pets will be put to work, too!)


All those cables and demarche requests that come from DC? Sure, I have to log them and nag folks to see if they're making progress, but it's not me writing the required mile-long cable on the Child Labor Situation in XYZ country, thank you. It's not me trying to figure out the vague directions from the Ambassador when asked to "brief me on the situation of women in the workforce" and then writing a speech for him/her to deliver on the subject. Phew!
CONS:
Being seen as "just the OMS" or having well-meaning folks try to compliment you by saying, "Wow, you're sharp! I bet you could even be a Generalist!" (read: "just like me!").
Mindless and repetitive tasks, like motor pool requests, and ordering supplies and filling the copy machines and printers with paper. But to be honest, these tasks really aren't mindless, as sending a van to pick someone up at the airport at 04:00 instead of 16:00 can have big consequences! But they're not, shall we say, enriching or stimulating. I'm not going to tell stories to friends about all the motor pool requests I do in a week, or start a conversation by saying, "Wow, you should have seen that vacation slip I copied today!
... oops, too late, sorry.

Finally, let's get down to brass tacks. There is a huge salary difference between being an OMS and being a FSO (I'm going to interchange these terms for the pure sake of variety: Foreign Service Officers ARE Generalists). An OMS will start his/her career as an FS-07. This refers to the pay scale.  After 18 months of service, we will receive an administrative raise to become FS-06. After that, any further promotions are based on merit, as judged by promotion panels who review employees' annual evaluations. During my recent training at FSI, many of us asked the class coordinator what the breakdown of OMSes was in terms of the pay scale, and this was the answer we received. There are currently:

FS-03- 40

FS-04 139

FS-05 253

FS-06 281

FS-07 125

As you can see, OMSes will top out at FS-03 and go no further, even if they personally reinvent the internet. And these FS-03s are nearly-mythical creatures, "Really? You actually MET an -03? Wow, tell me what she/he was like!"  In fact, the two 20-year veteran OMSes in our front office haven't reached that lofty plateau and one will retire soon without ever seeing it.

Meanwhile, my Economic Officer co-worker at the end of her second tour, and her tandem Consular Officer husband, were just promoted to FS-03. Granted, they're each very capable and qualified, but they're both just straddling 30 years old and in five years have accomplished what only 40 out of 838 OMSes worldwide have.

So does this mean that if I'm bothered by this fact that I'm just in it for the money? No, certainly not. Because I'm truly not. However, it is a bit disappointing to know from the start that my promotional horizon is so limited. Someone put it to me this way: if the highest we can go is to become the OMS to an Ambassador, it means that at that point our life will be completely at the whim of the schedule of another. Want to go home at 5? Nope, the Ambassador has decided to work until 7:30 and needs you to place calls, provide copies or materials, make reservations etc... Have vacation planned? Oops - so sorry, the Ambassador's spouse had his/her eye on the same date and you have to stay behind to mind the home fires.

That sounds a bit harsh, and I need to back-pedal a bit: an Ambassador's OMS is truly the eye of the storm, requiring professionalism to the highest degree, resourcefulness to be able to make things magically happen and intelligence and intuition to know where and to whom to turn to keep everything running (seemingly) effortlessly for the principal officer, the direct representation of the President in the host country. It's by no means a cake walk. 

Still, it can be a little disappointing to know that the best I can be is to be at someone else's beck-and-call.  And this is coming from someone with a deeply-ingrained motivation to serve, who truly just wants to make others happy and comfortable. Somewhere deep inside me is the urge to do a bit more.


Which brings up the next topic: chewing the fat about being a Consular Officer. I've gone on long enough today and will leave Part Two for the next entry.


Sorry there are no pictures in this entry, but a shot of me scratching my head or furrowing my brow in concentration just isn't an attention-grabber anyway.

So You've Been Invited To The OMS Oral Assessment?

Huge disclaimer:
The Oral Assessment (OA) is covered by a non-disclosure agreement (NDA), and anyone taking it must sign this agreement swearing they will not divulge the contents of the assessment. Therefore, I would like to offer the following NDA-compliant advice to hopeful OMSes out there. I understand invitations to the OA are going out currently, and a few of you have written to ask how they can best prepare. I would like to help out, and here is the best advice I can think of without spilling the beans.


Also, I took the OA over a year ago and they may have completely changed the structure and the requirements since then, in which case this posting may be purely for entertainment purposes.


My background:
I took the OMS OA in 2010 and the FSO OA in 2011 and passed both. I also have been obsessively reading and preparing for this subject and this life since 2009, therefore if this seems a bit excessive - you're probably right! People pass all the time without such structured preparation, and over-zealous people like me fail all the time, too. Go figure. But if this method helps one or two future OMSes, than I will feel satisfied.
Here's the best I can think of:

Writing exercise: 

You don't know what kind of exercise you'll be given, so I have two ways to prepare and both helped me feel confident. First, be aware of the ACT style of 5-paragraph essay in case you need to show an "opinion piece." Meaning, "Some people believe that the Electoral College is the hallmark of democracy, whereas others believe it has outlived its usefulness. What is your opinion and do you feel that the US should continue to use the Electoral College..." blah blah blah. Know how to structure your opinion in a clear, organized and convincing manner. The 5-paragraph structure really helps, even if you think, "the Electoral what?" when you see the question on the page. I would Google this method; I imagine there are lots of how-to's out there as this is what kids in high school have to learn for their SAT, ACT and AP tests. Write timed essays so that you develop your own method of organizing your thoughts under pressure.

Second, go to the Yahoo group for the FSO OA and look in their Files section for the CM portion of their exam. I think that's what it's called, Case Management. I could be wrong on that, but either way, the FSO OA asks applicants to write up a case management essay on how to solve a presented problem. You can see lots of good examples of the problem posed, and then various people's solution essays. I found these very helpful, and particularly mimicked Traveler's style. You'll notice right away that his essays are the best (IMHO). I used this method during the FSO OA, too, and I thought that I would for sure fail that section, but I didn't. It's all about having a practiced method that works for YOU to organize your thoughts in a timed exam.

Third, whatever question they pose to you: (pardon the caps here) MAKE SURE YOU FULLY ANSWER THE QUESTION! Don't beat around the bush, go right out and state your answer: Do you like to eat crab? "Yes, I like to eat crab because 1, 2, 3." Not, "Seafood is a wonderfully healthy way to eat..." See what I mean? Many people, surprisingly, don't fully answer the question.

Grammar and Proofreading:

Know common pitfalls and errors. Read books like, "Woe is I," Strunk and White's "Elements of Style" and any of the dozens of manuals of correct grammar, punctuation and spelling. Start being annoyed when your coworkers put apostrophe's where they don't belong (did you catch that?).  Google online proofreading websites that offer free tests. I don't remember their names, but I found them easily and worked through all their exercises.

Structured Interview:

This is where truly knowing the 12 Dimensions comes in. Here is what I found invaluable: On a piece of paper, cut out the description of the dimension and paste it on top. Brainstorm three examples of things in your life, from any/all of your jobs, to your volunteering to your travels - everything! Pick three examples that BEST fulfill the exact description of that dimension. Write them in order of best to weakest and write them in the STAR format:
Situation (in ONE sentence, set the scene, "I was an ice cream salesperson on the beach in Miami...");
Task ("...when I found that I had way too many Dreamsicles that nobody was buying,"); Action ("I knew I had to market the Dreamsicles better and so I..."),
Result ("...by the end of my shift, my quick-thinking saved my business and I had sold all the Dreamsicles.") Write down each story in that format so that you can tell the whole story without meandering or forgetting important, concrete actions. Practice these out loud in front of a mirror, in front of friends, in front of anyone who will listen so that you're comfortable hearing yourself, you're using active vocabulary and you're truly giving an example of something you've done that shows why you will be a successful OMS. Be concise! They can and might interrupt you!

Dress:

This is the State Dept. You will be representing the USG if you get hired. Show the respect the position deserves and dress very nicely, conservatively and professionally. Choosing between the hot red jacket and blouse that shows a bit of cleavage and looks great on you, or the tailored dark blue that says, "Hilary would wear this"? Do you have to ask which one is best? I have to say that there was a young woman who flew thousands of miles for her OMS OA and arrived in a skirt that needed a safety pin to hold it closed (it was visible); scuffed heels with mud on them; her hair pulled back in a rubber band as if she were going running; and an ill-fitting jacket. I just didn't understand why she would do that. She didn't pass. Men, it's not Dockers and a nice shirt time - go for the suit and tie.

Etc...

Bring a water bottle; bring a snack that will keep you going; spray your hair so you don't have to mess with it, and don't wear come-hither spike-heeled shoes. (That's for your congrats party afterwards!) Bring all requested paperwork completely filled out and anything else they ask you to bring. Half of this task is following directions. That's about it!

I wish you all luck on this long road. It's a fun life and there are some really amazing coworkers waiting to meet you if you're successful.

Let us know what happens!

PS

I was thinking this morning about my last post and also what my friend a fellow FS Specialist Mike commented, and it has prompted me to write about OMS training a little bit. I'm doing this primarily to defend the nice folks who trained us all, myself a little bit, and also to (hopefully) shine some light on what future OMSes and those in training now can expect. Granted, this is one person's opinion and not a carved-in-stone prediction of what everyone will experience. However, I believe it is common enough to be of value to others.

I must start with a FS  cliché that I truly hoped I'd never have to write: It depends.
OMS training is three full weeks of introduction to the super-varied work of an Office Management Specialist in the Foreign Service. The goal is to prepare employees for their roles in huge embassies and in tiny remote consulates; to help them be successful in Front Offices, in Regional Security Office positions or in Political and Economic sections. There is no one job description, no one way of doing things, no one standard procedure that is uniform for every situation. Therefore, the training is more of a broad overview of topics that we will one day (immediately or years from now) encounter, combined with hands-on-keyboard practice with some of the common programs that we will generally encounter in our new assignments. Things like time and attendance, travel arranging, tracking employee evaluations, ordering supplies and services, reading or retrieving cables - these types of programs seem to be common to nearly every section and an OMS should expect to face these tasks regardless of her/his assignment.

So if I'm defending the OMS training - then why did I feel so lost and unprepared? Why so much panic and so many (alleged) tears? Who or what is to blame?

First, I'm certain that I'm harder on myself than anyone else ever will be - so I should confess that the panic and tears were (mostly) internal.

Second, in order to get this job, we have to be the type of person who likes to do things well, who has been successful in their previous career(s) and is probably used to being the go-to person. When I left my former position, I was at the top of my game. I felt fluent and confident in every aspect of my work and relished my job because I understood it; I knew what was expected of me, how to do it, when and why. Then my confidence hit a new peak when I learned I was accepted by the Department of State to become an OMS - woo hoo, who's better than me?  I'd say that many of us felt the same way. We would not have been hired if we were low-achieving slumps.

So now take this same person and pull them from their familiar, warm bath and stick him/her in a new country, new culture, new language, new food, home, family, friends and coworkers left behind in the US, and plop them into a job where they have (generally) no overlap with their predecessor to show them what they're doing and what is expected, in a unique professional culture with very little outside equivalent, and it's no wonder you get someone who feels cold, naked and shivering. I think it's normal to have some deer-in-the-headlights months as we scramble to find our equilibrium and routine, our little victories and accomplishments that we've been so accustomed to from our previous lives.

This is where the "genius" of the FS hiring process comes in: they know all this.
They know that very few people are going to come to their doorsteps, resume in hand, with actual embassy experience. Sure, there are those who were interns, or who have experience from being a FS family member - but they are the minority. Many of us (myself included) had never been IN a US embassy before; some had never been out of the country before embarking on this career - it's not a job requirement. This is why they choose people with the raw characteristics (the 12/13 Dimensions), gleaned from every possible source and life experience, that they know will allow them to eventually float to the surface in the ocean of FS assignments. They didn't hire us because we'd used e2 Travel Arranger before - they hired us because perhaps we'd figured out other new programs in other jobs. They didn't hire us because we'd written a Dip Note before, but because we showed them we were resourceful in figuring out new tasks through whatever means available.

There is no way that OMS training (or any of the other trainings for generalists and specialists) can prepare new employees for every situation they're going to face; it's simply impossible. Every post, every section, every predicament faced will be different and therefore while they try to teach us about the variety of situations that probably/maybe will come up  - the bottom line is that they have to hire people who they trust possess the internal tools to figure stuff out.

This process of figuring stuff out can be painful for those of us who are used to already knowing what to do and how to do it. It can take months or a year, and as soon as we're snappy and fluent and feeling like the top of our game - we pack up and start all over again. This discomfort can make you feel alive or it can be overwhelming - and probably both. I know I will gain from the pain (sorry for that last phrase) in the long run.

In the meanwhile, apparently y'all are going to hear my creaks and groans. Please don't take this as an indication that the FS system or I are intrinsically flawed. I think it's just the way it is.

Thanks for listening.

Tiny Victories

Subtitle: Confessions of a Freshman OMS

Today was an anniversary of sorts: it has been exactly 12 weeks since I first took my seat in the Economic Section at Embassy Bogota. It has also been about two months since I came home and cried in frustration, feeling like a total idiot for not knowing what the heck I was doing. So I'd like to take this time, if you don't mind, to celebrate some really tiny victories that came to me today. I will do this by way of before and after descriptions:

1. Task: Boss says, "Find me that cable I drafted in either 2009 or 2010 that had the words 'US Company' in the title."

Before: Stare at him blankly. Consult deepest darkest memory from OMS training (last April) about running advanced searches on our cable system. Start to hyperventilate when search result turns up 43,671 hits. Try not to cry.

After: Repeat same steps above with blank stare replaced by confident nod, and with only minor frustration at seeing the number of hits. Blame stupid search program instead of stupid self. Recall that previous OMS cross-referenced all cables since 2009 in handy Excel sheet; actually locate said Excel sheet and in one minute, find the requested cable. Print and send electronically to boss, feel like hero deserving of medal.

2. Task: Invitational traveler who we are bringing to Colombia for a conference will not divulge the personal information necessary for me to make hotel and airline reservations and arrange for electronic funds transfer for her travel advance.

Before: Panic. Pester co-workers with questions and start to hyperventilate (again) as they describe one possible Herculean work-around after another for my predicament.

After: No social security number for her new travel account? We'll make one up!
No bank account information? We'll bring her to the embassy cashier for a cash advance when she arrives!
No visa card number? We'll use her co-worker's to hold her hotel reservation!
Bring it on sister - is that the worst you can throw at me? Ha!

3. Task: Co-worker is out sick and that important letter from Secretary Clinton and corresponding Diplomatic Note (aka DipNote) have to go the Minister of Foreign Affairs.

Before: Look terrified at boss as he casually lobs the task into my court. Frantically search office for other possible victim to assist and realize I'm the only one in today. Panic (again).

After: Feel - but don't show - terror (bosses can smell fear; this deception is an art you must master quickly). Consult electronic files of previous DipNotes for samples; realize that none match the requirements and start to sweat. Remember the nice lady from Protocol who I met months ago who does these things all the time and beg for help with the very, very formal and traditional formatting and wording. Semi-stifle a few "argh!"s as the formatting goes haywire, and by five minutes to five - have her return my latest version with only "a few small changes." Remember that these need to be sent via courier with a returned proof of delivery. Relish the knowledge that I know how to request a courier via eServices and how to say, "proof of delivery" in Spanish.

4. Very Big Deal Conference coming in three weeks needs interpreters for complicated technological topics for multiple days and in two cities: Bogota and Medellin.

Before: Consider new line of work and pull suitcase off shelf.

After: Breathe in. Start to break huge task into small chronological steps on notepad. Remember how to use ARIBA procurement system that made me cry just two months ago (there's a lot of that going around!). Write very detailed notes in ARIBA to overworked procurement staff regarding our needs (first, smile in the knowledge that we HAVE procurement staff and that I know their names and where they sit), attach funding information, list dates and technical requirements. Enjoy sense of relief knowing that when I have to contact these interpreters to finalize the details... they will be bilingual!

All these things happened today, and I'm still here alive and willing to share them all with you. In fact, most of them happened after lunch. I must admit that I still feel trepidation starting up the computer in the morning, wondering what fire will need to be put out, or what nasty knot in need of untangling will pounce on me via a casual e-mail. There are a LOT of things I do not know how to do still. A LOT. But there are now a few things I do know how to do, and that's what I'm happy about today.

Wish me luck tomorrow.

Rainy Day: Random Thoughts and Statistics

It's Colombus Day, which means no work for me and there's a nice thunder-n-lightning storm outside and I've done all my housework... so I thought I'd take this time to look at this blog's statistics of readers from around the world. As of today, here they are:

United States       9,501

Colombia               123

New Zealand           58

Mozambique           49

Germany                 46

Canada                    42

Russia                     41

United Kingdom      39

Japan                      35

Qatar                      31

I'd like to say "Hey!" and "Thanks for reading!" to the 49 Mozambican page-viewers (I visited and love the country - hope you're enjoying it, too), and the 58 Kiwis (ditto what I said about Mozambique). I must say I'm a bit disappointed in the number of pageviews of our fine neighbors to the north. Yes, Canada - that's you. Perhaps if I wrote more about hockey and less about cats, the numbers would improve? (I'm just teasing you.) I imagine the 123 Colombian pageviews are my husband (honey, you're skewing the stats!) but I'm curious about the Qatar and Japan readers...

I would like to know what information is most interesting and helpful to you all. I know that sometimes blogger makes it hard to leave comments, but if you can, let me know what would be interesting.

I figure two main types of readers work their way through my thoughts each week: those of you who are friends or family and are curious if we're still living and breathing (yes, thank you); and those of you who are aspiring OMSes and are looking for glimpses into this possible new career. And, according to the stats kept by blogger, there are dozens of people who hit upon this blog after searching for "Colombian Flag" on Google. Yes, there technically IS a picture of the Colombian flag (go back to late March), but this site probably wasn't what you were expecting, eh?

In speaking to the latter group (not the flag-Googlers): there is a brand-new batch of OMSes at FSI as we speak (24 of them, I'm told) who will be going through the excitement of Flag Day tomorrow. For all of them, I can't say that I wish you only your high bids, because if word-of-mouth is any indicator, many of my colleagues have been pleasantly surprised when fate brought them an assignment they never would have chosen for themselves. Today is the last day of your life as you know it. After tomorrow afternoon, your thoughts and focus will be on the coming horizon: what to bring, what can't I bring, what schools for my kids, what clothes for what climate, what languages to learn, what food, how many flights to get there and how much will it cost to ship my pet(s)? You will become fluent in all these questions and answers over the coming three weeks. Some find this exciting, some terrifying, some tedious - but it is an integral part of the life which you've just entered.

We are forever looking to the horizon and wondering what's coming. It doesn't end for this post, either. My co-workers, some with 20+ years in the FS, are still looking ahead and planning, plotting their career course, figuring out that even at age 53 they may need to spend nearly a year at FSI to learn a new language - but it would be worth it. I think if you weren't a day-dreamer or the type that asked, "But what's around THAT corner?" you mightn't be wondering about this life after all.

One of my favorite recently-overheard conversations on the van the other day summed up the FS mentality perfectly:

Person One: We're thinking of bidding on XYZ country, how did you like it there?

Person Two: Oh I loved it! It was a wonderful time.  Well, I did get dengue fever and dysentary and giardia - but other than that, it was great. You should totally bid on it!

We're not the typical breed of cat, and it is such a relief to finally arrive at FSI or at your first post, and be among people who understand your wandering motivations, people who talk about spending ten months to learn Estonian being a good thing, people who are fluent in the many forms of electricity and the appliances that can/can't work with them, and people who can discuss the various ways to keep armies of African ants out of the dog kibble bin.

However, if you're the person who said this to me while I was still back at home:

"What? Why would you want to leave here? Aren't we good enough for you?" ---
I don't recommend this life for you.

But I'm glad that you're out there, keeping the homefires burning while we scatter to each horizon. Believe me, we'll be envious of your easy access to peanut butter, rolls of wrapping paper and $3 boxes of breakfast cereal, for sure.

In the meanwhile, I hope these random thoughts give some of you an insight into our lives and maybe some inspiration or a feeling of relief that you're not alone out there as you try to explain to friends and family why moving to the Congo would be pretty cool.

Cuidate, y nos vemos!