Bajo el Mismo Cielo

Some days it's really, really hard.

Something really exciting happens and I can't wait until the end of the day to talk to my spouse about all the cool things that I experienced that day. I do something cool like meet an assistant secretary or tour an amazing office. And I just want to share it with my favorite person in the whole world.

But the spouse is not here. And there's dry cleaning to pick up in Juarez. Or an event with coworkers or friends in DC. Cookies to bake to take to work, lunch to make for tomorrow, a bathroom to clean for house guests.  So we communicate in snatched conversations here and there.  We pick and choose the truly extraordinary events to talk about, and forget the day-to-day. Or we focus on the mundane logistics of when and where we'll see each other again, and leave the extraordinary to rise to the surface unexpectedly months down the line.

We've done this before. But never so married, and never so long. Each time apart is time that we could have been spending together, regardless of whether it makes sense for our respective careers. We just have to keep telling ourselves that it's going to work out and we're going to be together eventually. That at least we're living in a civilized era of Facetime and Skype and long-distance phone calls. And all of those sleepless nights, the cravings for a simple touch, a kiss, or sharing a mundane moment.... we'll stave them off through visits once a month or so. But we won't cure all of them. There will still be those missed connections and opportunity costs from our separate ways.

These are the sacrifices we make. This is the career and the lifestyle that we choose. We try very, very hard to make due. And we don't make a fuss. Stiff upper lip and all that. It's already hard enough, I can't imagine how my colleagues with children do it. We all have our burdens, we just have to hope that some are less permanent than others.

It's going to be a long 15 months.

Palabras

Many companies and jobs have a new employee orientation, but none that I know of can match the process of A-100 (the training class for new Foreign Service Officers). The basics of it are pretty well known: six weeks of introduction to the Foreign Service, from the internal HR systems and paperwork through the tools and basic precepts of international diplomacy. But the lessons we're learning go beyond the content of a thousand powerpoint presentations (of which there are plenty). The Department is attempting to inculcate us into a cohesive group that believes in the power of ideas and ideals to change the world. That's some heady stuff there.

One thing that I've personally gotten out of it is the power of words. I've actually been thinking about this a lot lately, in both my personal and professional lives. Words can set the tone of an interaction. They can build up a relationship, or tear one apart. And they're the foundation of our beliefs and ideals, the things that make this country tick. I think sometimes we roll our eyes at the notion of serving the country merely for the sake of a series of pieces of paper, one of which starts with the words "We, the People." We sometimes think it jingoistic to be overly patriotic. But it's those words that set the tone for a whole set of principles, a culture of equality, a society committed to tolerance and freedom and justice. That is what makes this country great. 

And yet. There are also those words that tear us apart. Hypocrite. Totalitarian. War Criminal. Tyranny. Secrecy. Abusers of Power. The words that are anathema to our self-image.  And they are bandied about in our conversations, in our press, and in our dealings with the rest of the world. There are no easy answers. But as the Wire says, we must have a code. And maybe the best that we can do is hold ourselves to that code and follow it where that takes you. 

I believe in America, and the ideals upon which it is founded. Defending and explaining those principles and applying the law, here and abroad. And that's part of my code. Those words: integrity, loyalty, freedom, justice, and equality. These are my words. They are important in my work and at home. And they are powerful.

Arrived!

A week ago I was still in Juarez. I was mostly packed, due to my wonderful spouse. But I was still working, still driving everywhere, still crossing an international border fairly frequently for mundane reasons, and still sleeping in my own bed.

I'm not there anymore.

After a bit more than a year away, I have returned to DC. Things are different here. I walk to the grocery store, to restaurants, to the metro (!!!!). There's a great library system here. My inner transit nerd is rejoicing about how much I don't need a car. I'm getting a bikeshare membership. And I'm officially in the Foreign Service. 

There are drawbacks, of course. Arriving so quickly means that there's been numerous difficulties with IT at work and getting my apartment all set up at home. It's always fun to arrive in the middle of the night on a Saturday and arrive at a furnished apartment that doesn't have towels. There have been Metro to Target runs and grocery shopping trips in the middle of the night. And my lingering cough from Juarez has not liked the fact that you can't really take sick days during training. Saddest of all is that I'm likely facing over a year apart for the person I want to spend the rest of my life with.

We'll see each other approximately once a month, starting in August. It won't be enough, but we will maintain our relationship the best we can through modern technology. These are the sacrifices we make so that both of us can have a career. Hopefully on flag day, we'll have a good idea of when the next time will be when we actually will be living in the same location. 

I know that all (or at least many) of my A-100 classmates are going through some of the same things that we are. What do you tell your friends and family when they ask how long you'll be in DC after you tell them you're moving there? "I don't know, I'll find out five weeks after I arrive there?" I can't imagine how you'd communicate that level of vague to a child. But orientation is not a time for anything other than complete flexibility. 

Maybe after this weekend I'll feel a bit more coherent. I'm running low on sleep and high on uncertainty.  The only thing I know, from observing the experience of my spouse's class, is that it gets better. So for now I'll just hang on. It's going to be a crazy ride.

Nuevas Fronteras

What with the run up to training, winding down activities here in Juarez, and making some last minute trips in the area that I won't get to do over the next year, it's been pretty busy here in casa bonita land. But in the spare moments that I've had to think about the Impending Crazy Life Changes of Doom (tm),  I'm realizing that I'm really, really excited.

There are things I'm not going to enjoy. Though the spouse and I've been apart before in our relationship, for extended periods of time even, I am NOT looking forward to the prospects of being apart for up to a year (and up to three years if we get sent to different posts).  The department will try to place us together, but it makes no guarantees and most tandem couples end up spending at least some of their careers apart. 

I'm also not looking forward to wearing a formal suit to work every day for six weeks in the humid D.C. summer. 90-100 degree heat with 90 per cent humidity is not the time to be wearing a three piece suit. And yet, that's what they make you do in training, at least until you get an assignment and start long term language training,  where the dress code is a bit more relaxed. 

But I am excited for returning to D.C., a great city that I've already lived in a couple of times. I'm happy that I'll be living in a new neighborhood, and that I'll be able to get back to a city where I can walk and bike around safely. And D.C. is pretty close to many of my family and friends.

I'm really looking forward to meeting my classmates in person for the first time. Already I'm impressed by the few that I've met online. They have such amazing resumes and a real diversity of backgrounds.

But the day I'm most excited for will come about five weeks into training. The day every FSO remembers like it was yesterday. I'm talking about flag day.

Every officer has bidding stories and could-have beens about where they wanted to go or actually went on this tour or that. But the first time is different. The first time, the training coordinators gather together all of the new officers in a room and call them up, one by one, to announce where in the world they will be going. The officers know the list of potential positions,  but there are always surprises. And the way that the announcement happens is by the coordinators handing each officer the flag of their destination. Thus flag day. Every officer I know has preserved the flag of their first post for posterity. And while I couldn't have been prouder of the spouse last time when they called her name and presented a flag of Mexico, this time it'll be my name that they call. 

To me that flag represents the security of knowing where I'll be going. And the knowledge of whether the two of us will be together for our next tours or not. But most importantly, that flag means the ability to plan ahead, something that's rare in the Foreign Service.

I can't wait.