Soy una una

Okay, let me explain:
The morning after Flag Day I was told to report to the Spanish language department for a quick evaluation of my Spanish skills as my assignment requires a 2/2 proficiency. That means that on a scale of 0 (can't say "hola") to 5 (native well-educated speaker), I need to be speaking (first number) and reading (second number) at a 2/2 level. I had been estimating that I'd be about a 1+ or 2 on this scale. That was on Tuesday.

On Wednesday morning, after a quick conversation with a few  native speakers wherein the conversation stayed along the lines of "I come from Washington. I have have husband. Before, I work in police department in office. I have three cats. No, hahaha, they are not kittens; they are big cats," I was officially downgraded to a 1. We didn't even try the reading portion. Actually, the woman was kind and said that a 1 indicated that I was socially conversational, made grammar errors and could understand most (my emphasis added) of what was said. Okay - that is an accurate assessment.

So, I report back to my orientation class and during our break, I chat with some classmates who are excellent or native Spanish speakers and tell them my news: "Soy una una." Direct translation (in MY head) "I am a one." They looked at each other and tried not to laugh at me. No, no, we wouldn't say it that way. No - really, that doesn't make any sense at all; you should say it like this... and frankly in my embarassment, I've forgotten what else they said.

I am now signed up for 12 weeks of Spanish training aimed at bringing this una to a dos.

Flash forward a week and I'm in my apartment after work when there's a knock on the door. It's Delmi, the El Salvadorean housekeeper. She asked if she could come in (in English) and noticing her accent and her name, I invited her in and asked if she spoke Spanish, which of course she does. What a good chance to practice! I gave her my usual preface of "sorry, but I only speak a little Spanish" so as not to encourage her too far.  

The rest of the conversation - to my understanding - went like this:

Blah blah blah excuse me, too much work today blah blah towels? Blah blah blah you want me to clean the blah blah? Two or three bags? Blah blah blah pass the vacuum? Blah blah. Have a nice evening.

My mind went like this:

For God's sake woman - slow down, SOY UNA UNA!!

I'm not sure that 12 weeks is going to be bastante!

Conversation with The Great Toby

Identification:
Me - me
Toby - The Great Toby, prognostiCATor currently specializing in FS predictions using his favorite medium, Tidy Cat.

So Toby, I have to admit, I was a bit disappointed that your prediction that we'd be posted to Africa was wrong.

What are you talking about? You asked me for bid list predictions, and that's exactly what I delivered. Were there not three different African posts on your bid list? Hmmm?

Well, yeah, technically there were, but I was also kinda' believing that your message was so clear that it would also predict our post assignment. So that got us thinking that for sure we'd be headed to an exotic, warm, dry place.

You mean that place that you told me has all those mosuitoes, ants, hippos and crocodiles?

Yeah, but we'd have a house with a yard and maybe two bathrooms... and I guess I just got my hopes up.

And now? Now we're going to a vibrant, active city with great pet food selection, a moderate climate for those of us with long fur and it won't take 18 hours to fly there! I'm not seeing a problem here. Plus, didn't you say something about an apartment with a view? Besides, I want to be known as a "Bogato"!

You're right; it's going to be great. But next time - could you just be a bit more specific in your predictions? You know, add a footnote or something?

Sure, if it'll make you happy. Next time I'll pee on the carpet.

Flag Day - Part Dos

Okay, so a few days later, I've been able to catch my breath a bit and can share some more details about our recent Flag Day.

First - what's the big deal, right? The big deal is that since mid-2009 I've been focused on this very day as the shining horizon. I've understood and have been excited about the prospect of how - for lack of a better term - fate would have such an incredible role in my life, Tim's life, my family's life, and the Tabbies' life. True, it is "just" our first posting; just two years and there will be many more thereafter. But the first post sets the tone for our life (and even if I'm the employee - it's OUR life in this deal) in the Foreign Service. Will we love it? Will we be scared off? Will I cut it?

(Okay, enough of that, here's the fun bit and I hope that may help stoke the fires of those of you whose embers for the FS life are just warming up.)

It's a crisp and sunny Tuesday afternoon and our families are assembled and waiting for us in a large-ish conference hall at FSI. Some have flown across the country for this day (mine), and many have rug-rats in tow waiting to hear about what the next few years of their life might bring. Our collective bid lists included Fiji and Kathmandu; Rome and Vienna; Bujumbura and Miami; Tajikistan and Yemen. My classmates and I take our seats at the front of the room facing a large screen welcoming us to Flag Day and displaying colored flags from around the world. I sit next to another OMS classmate who is suddenly noticing and worried about a spot on her sweater. We decide that her ID badge can hang to just the right place to cover it. Then they tell us that we're getting started and to take our ID badges off, they look bad in the pictures. Okay, so maybe we can kinda' tuck the bottom of her sweater under to hide the spot...
and before the thought is finished, they've announced the first posting already. It is Vienna and it's going to.... not me. My friend and I snap to attention; this is really happening. Who cares about the stain. Our classmate jumps to her feet and accepts the red and white flag with a huge smile of relief.

I'm okay; Vienna would have been great - but very expensive, my classmate will love it there. The announcer continues to work down the list awarding postings to classmate after classmate as we cheer, remembering that Mumbai was so-and-so's first choice, or that Port au Prince will be close to so-and-so's wife posted in Santo Domingo. My top choices were Mexico City, Bujumbura, Bucharest and Bogota. Mexico City goes to a classmate who is a native Spanish speaker - drat! But it makes sense, she has the language skills needed for that position - I should have known. Then the heartbreak: Bujumbura goes to another classmate. I'm not sure why I was so intent on that destination, maybe it was The Great Toby's prediction taken to heart? (More on that later.) Tim speaks French; I speak a little. It would have been - I dunno' - exotic and so very, very Foreign. Anyway, it's gone and the flags are continuing to be picked off one by one.

I'm honestly excited and happy for my classmates as they get their top picks: Lima, Shenyang, Jakarta. But what about me? There are now only two postings left: Bucharest and Bogota and I'm the only one from my specialty left. In fact, there are only three of us in the room whose names haven't yet been called. I look at the little flag holder in front of the announcer and see it: Broad yellow stripe, blue, red... I'm going to Colombia. I know it before they said it.

And then it is official: Bogota, Colombia.  I hear my name, stand up to take my little flag, do the "grip and grin" with our class mentor and try to keep my focus to walk as directed to my Career Development Officer (CDO) standing to the side with a shiny blue folder with my name on it.

My classmates are all congratulating each other, waving our flags, posing for pictures and greeting our families. It is pretty awesome, I must say. Minutes later, my CDO comes up to me and says that the next morning at 0800 I need to be in the Spanish Department for an evaluation of my language skills - don't worry, it'll be short - and then they'd get me enrolled in whichever level classes I needed. My posting requires a 2/2 (on a 0-5 scale of speaking/reading) skill level, so I'll need some brushing up before packing up and heading south.  I find a second to call Tim and tell him the news and he seems excited to hear it.

For the next day or so, I felt somewhat in shock still, letting it sink in that the little "You Are Here" light on my map was going to move to South America. I've never been there - it'll be completely new. A city at 8600 feet with "fall-like weather" just about year 'round. In the coming weeks and months I'll be learning more and more about my job, our new country, our new city, our new language.

That's it for now. Tomorrow I need to have a talk with The Great Toby. We'll see what he has to say for himself and for his predictions.  Until then...

Djibouti!

No, no - that's not where I'm going - that's what I got to jump up from my seat and yell during our Flag Day when I won our Post Bingo game. It's not right to just shout Bingo! in this crowd, so we came up with one of the funnest words to say (it was going to be Ouagadougou but not everyone could remember it) so Djibouti it was, and I'm happy to say that I won.

And yes, it was a little embarassing to stand up and yell it first in front of all those important types attending our big day.

So... I've been thinking about how I'm going to write this posting for a very long time. I don't want to just say where I'm going - what fun is that, right? But the Tabbies kept me up until the wee hours last night (BAD Tabbies!); I had a terribly exciting day, some fun with classmates and family afterwards and then some very, very spicy Vietnamese food for dinner with my family (word of caution: they don't ask how many stars of spiciness you want it out here. They just dump it in. I'm not in Snohomish anymore!).

I'm exhausted. This isn't how I wanted to break the news to everyone, so I'm just going to say it in a flag and then give a better story tomorrow.

Any guesses?

Think really good coffee.

Think of mountainous terrain and average temps between 45-68 degrees.

Think of me taking a Spanish assessment test tomorrow at 0800 to go to......

Bogota, Colombia!!

So that's it. The big reveal.

Wow, we're moving to Colombia.

Pretty cool, eh?

Details to follow.

Flag Day Eve

This could be considered "the night before my life as I know it changes."

So far this FS life has been primarily theoretical: day dreaming, studying, writing, hoping, waiting, more day dreaming, LOTS more waiting. Now we're in our third week of orientation and I feel like I'm just getting my sea legs. I've gotten used to my routine and know most (okay, a lot) of my 69 classmates' names. I know where the Registrar's office is and when the shuttle bus comes. And now it's our last week as a group before we scatter with the wind,  hopefully to grow roots where we land. We have people staying here in the States and people heading to every continent (except Australia and Antarctica - is that considered a continent anyway?).

It seems that much of this life is spent looking to the horizon. Waiting to hear if we pass the FSOT or if we get invited to an oral assessment. Waiting to hear if we get medical clearances, security clearances, invited to an orientation. What will be on our bid list? What flag will we get? What will post be like? What is our NEXT post? Maybe this is why we chose this life, because there is always something to look forward to, some change, some new adventure.

But running through my mind is a line from one of my favorite movies: "I know she can get the job, but can she do the job?" (Anyone name that movie?) Yeah, that's still a bit scary. One of our OMS trainers told us that don't worry if we feel as if we're not even qualified to open the door at this point, they hired us for a good reason and we'll get back to our usual selves sooner or later. It reminds me about what they said about Ginger Rogers: She did everything that Fred Astaire did, but backwards and in heels. We need to awesomely represent THE NATION while we adapt to a new country, a new job, a new language, a new climate, a new time zone, and perhaps while being away from our family and possibly while under the influence of anti-malarials.
Wow.
That's a tall order.

I'd better get some sleep!

Tomorrow: what flag will it be?