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.

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.

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.

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!

I must admit - it's pretty cool!

So the sun came out today, and tomorrow it is predicted to be in the mid-70s. This kind of forecast, particularly coming off a Northwest winter, can brighten any mood and put a spring in even the tiredest step.

Okay, I've gotta' say it - being at the Foreign Service Institute is pretty darn cool. It's like being back at college again, with the campus of brick buildings interconnected with pathways past statues of great Americans (I see ole' Ben Franklin every day). The cafeteria is full of students, often chattering away in every language you can imagine as they practice between classes. We have a super group of Specialists from all walks of life and parts of the country, too. As we're arranged in our daily classroom alphabetically, instead of by specialty, I sit next to people who I wouldn't know otherwise, and being towards the beginning of the alphabet - I have a second-row, center seat.

The amount of information IS overwhelming; I must admit. It feels as if they are lobbing tennis balls at me, dozens of them, each with some vital task written on them, while they say, "Don't drop any! Oh, here's another one, very important! But this one's easy... it's *online*!"
There are so many balls in the air by now that we have to rely on each other for reminders about what's due, where to find which form to fill out, which video to watch etc... Exciting to be in the thick of it all, but utterly draining as well.

We're spending more time researching our bid lists these days. We each have a complex matrix of considerations in making our preferences: Family, pets, schools, weather, the type of unit we'll be working in, danger or security, health concerns, proximity to family and so on. Plus there's an element of strategy as we each try to figure out who will likely get which post, and which one we may have a good shot at. One classmate finally just said, "You know - just surprise me."

We've considered making flashcards of all the flags of the countries up for bid so that when they project the flag up on the screen at Flag Day - we'll at least recognize which country it is when they call our name to "Come on down!" I eat my breakfast on my Flags of the World placemat each day. (The cat bowls are on their Cats of the World placemat; they need to be prepared, too!)

Okay, it's time for more homework. Big Day will be next Tuesday - ready or not, here it comes!

Day one is in the bag

Dodger, Toby and I survived the trip back East, it seems. Although I may add "barely" to that. Dodger has adapted quite well although he has become extremely clingy. He's sitting on my little hotel desk with me now. Toby is pretty upset and spends his time behind or under things: the bed, the toilet, the ironing board in the closet. Poor guy. Unfortunately, I've caught a nasty cold, so really the transition from the comforts of home to the unknown world of you-know-what has been a bit rocky for each of us.

So today was the first day. I'm exhausted. Not because of the day, but because of the night and the utter lack of sleep. Toby feels coming out of hiding at night and the two of them jump on the bed, off the bed, on the bed, on my head, under the covers, off the bed etc... ALL NIGHT LONG. I'm trying to be the consumate poised professional during the day, but man, it's tough without any sleep!

I know I promised that this wouldn't be all cat-chatter, but we've been given a vague, yet stern, warning about what we say in the public forum. So many of my classmates are uncertain about what we're allowed to talk about and what will get us blackmarked in our first week. I apologize for the lack of meaty details, but this is the reason.

Today was mostly HR processing, but tomorrow we'll get to hear our bid list. The list I've been day-dreaming about since May 2009! My classmates each have different ideas of what they'd like to see, which is good, because if we all were determined to go to a particular country - a bunch of us would be sorely disappointed. I have one other Washingtonian here with me, and she brought her large dog, so we are each hoping for no-quarantine countries. Some folks have spouses in the FS already, so naturally they're hoping to go to the same place as their significant other, or at least the same country.

I did rise above my pity-party this morning when we were sworn in at Main State and given our ID badges. The speaker welcomed us into the fold and told us how we've just accepted not a job, but a whole new life. That was pretty darn cool, I've got to say.

Okay, I'll head out for now. Big week ahead of me starting tomorrow.

G'night all,