El Presupuesto

Pretty much every year since spouse and I started working for the federal government in 2010, there's been some form of political gridlock surrounding the country's finances. I can't remember the last time there's been a regular budget. And now,  we're once again facing two threats of shutting down the government. While the spouse probably will be working come Tuesday if the government shuts down, I almost certainly will not. This is where I say "not cool, Republicans, not cool."

I truly believe in a  non-political federal civil service. Honestly. At work I will enact a policy whether it's a Republican or Democratic policy (God forbid we include other parties in our system, but that's a rant for another day). I still believe in the right to express my political position in my personal life and even in small talk at the office, but I also swore an oath to the constitution and in the end of the day I will discharge the duties of my office as required by the constitution. In other words, the law is the law.

But what happens when one party abrogates its responsibility and is fundamentally opposed to the very idea of governing? Make no mistake, this is not a question of President Obama refusing to negotiate with the U.S. House of Representatives. I would argue that this shutdown crisis is the culmination of President Obama caving too much over the past 5 years and the time has come for an actual confrontation. Speaker Boehner, you don't get to control the entire government just because your party gerrymandered itself into a tenuous majority in one house despite the fact that the majority of the country voted for democrats. 

If I don't work on Tuesday, I'll survive. Spouse and I have some savings, we're not living paycheck to paycheck yet.  But I will be taking to the internets to reach out to all of my friends and family to make sure that they're aware that I am personally affected by Mr. Boehner and the Tea Party's ideological war against the government. And if it goes longer than a day or so, I'll march on the Capitol. I don't have a representative because I'm a resident of the District of Columbia (another rant for another day). So I will call upon the overlords in congress that have self-appointed themselves as my representatives (the congressmen and women that are on committees that oversee the District of Columbia).  I will tell them that I will be using all of my powers to get rid of the scourge of Republican non-governance in the elections next year.

The spouse and I very rarely invest time or money in political activities. Very occasionally we'll donate some money to a cause that we believe in. This shutdown (and the next one if the brinkmanship extends to the debt ceiling fight) will change this. And I hope that this extends to our family and friends. This may be the catalyst to move the country back from crazy to an actual sane policy. 

Look, I'm the first to admit that the Democratic Party has issues. It's a very wide tent of people that only vaguely have the same principles and values. But at least they want to govern responsibly. So Speaker Boehner as the news unfolds over the next few days and weeks, remember this one simple fact: actions have consequences. And we in the federal workforce will make this country remember.

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.

Vale la Pena

Today after work I went to see a flower that supposedly smelled like a corpse.

It didn't really. But it was a gigantic flower and it looked cool. And going to the National Botanic Garden allowed me to take a nice walk to my apartment by way of the mall. And the proximity to the Capitol prompted me to think a bit about some of the lessons we're learning in A-100.

It's an orientation program, for sure. So there's all sorts of sessions on HR and how to work with and in the State bureaucracy. It's also a time when we learn about the history of diplomacy, the type of work that we do, and the potential jobs that we could be doing soon. And of course there's the bidding process, which is probably enough material for a whole other post.

But I think the most important lessons that we're learning are the ones that don't come from our courses. We're learning to act as a cohort, how to socialize amongst our peers, and what it means to be a diplomat "24/7." We're also remembering why we're here and what it means to serve.

When my friends who work at consulates and embassies around the world are asked about what they do they tend to say that they are in the Foreign Service rather than that they're diplomats. I think there's something to be said for including the word "service" every time that we introduce ourselves. It's a little reminder that the work that we do is in service to the people of the United States. It's in service of our ideals. It sounds corny, but it's principles like freedom and justice and sacrifice of personal gain for the common good that keep me going.  And if using the word "service" moves the perception of the profession from one of effete elites drinking scotch and smoking cigars with foreign politicians equally out of touch with their own people to the reality of a Department filled with dedicated public servants who hold the well-being of Americans abroad as their highest priority, so much the better. In what other profession do we get to remind ourselves of our principles every day.

It's worth it. 

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.

Entre Un Mundo y Otro

Mentally these last few weeks are turning out to be a strange endeavor. I've moved many times in my life, once with State Department help, most of the time on my own. But with the exception of going abroad for limited periods of time, I've always had a period of transition, usually by driving, with which to mentally prepare and get myself in the proper headspace for the new place.

This time is different.

Allow me to explain. Because I cannot allow more than three calendar days between my current federal job and A-100 (to keep the benefits that I've already accrued) I will be having my last day of work next Friday, flying to DC next Saturday, and starting A-100 the following Monday. This gives me exactly one day to get reoriented to the time-zone change (I'll be starting work at what feels like 6 AM for me) and a very different way of living from Ciudad Juarez. Some are the changes will be good, like the ability to walk, bike, and just generally live without a car. Some will be not so good, like the fact that I'll be away from my spouse for who knows how long. But it very much will be different.

So I'm trying techniques to get myself ready, like envisioning my life in my new apartment and planning my commute to work. The only problem with this is that at the same time I'm trying to remain pretty fully engaged here in CJ. It's a jarring dissonance that everyone has in the Foreign Service, and I think it's one of the reasons that officers are mandated weeks and weeks of home leave before their transition from one post to another. It's almost as if Congress realized that people moving all over the world are going to tend to be workaholics and might just need to be told to take a few weeks to relax and transition.

But the first move, the move to join the service, is not like that. And so while I'm wondering about my future classmates and my route to work in two weeks, I'm also Fourth of July, one last Mexico trip, and CJ despedida (farewell) planning. And if you've ever worked a Fourth of July party in the Foreign Service, it's no joke. Not to mention the necessity of training my replacement in EVERYTHING I KNOW. So, my future classmates, if I seem a bit distracted those first few days of class, I apologize. My head (and my heart) may still be in Juarez. 

Just an Ordinary Day

The big impending move is starting to get a little more real. The other day I received my travel authorization, which set in motion a whole bunch of moving parts. Now there's a giant pile that I can only describe as "stuff" in my house that will be packed up and shipped out next week. Yesterday I made decisions on plane tickets and arranged for a ride from the airport next month. And every day I receive new emails of forms to fill out and return to Washington to make the transition smooth.

Yet there's still quite a lot to do here as well. We're trying to figure out car maintenance issues before I go. I'm working on transition documents that should theoretically teach my replacement at work everything that I've learned over the past year. There are favorite restaurants to visit, fun events/parties to go to, and souvenirs to purchase (perhaps to go into that giant pile of "stuff" to ship. And lets not forget that it's Fourth of July season, which means that everyone at the consulate is going a little bit nuts to make sure that the event goes well.

The thing that makes this whole move a little bittersweet is that I'm starting to get closer with a couple of people who are going to be remaining at post. When I first got the invite to an orientation class, my initial reaction was one of jubilation. This was my ticket out of a place that I've never fully taken to. And don't get me wrong, I'm still really, really excited. But it's starting to sink in that I really will truly miss the combination of people here. There are many things about the physical environment in Juarez that I don't like, but the people, locals and foreign service, are what make this place great. And I'm a bit sad to be leaving this community.

On the other hand, this move gives me the opportunity to develop a network of my own. And I'm extremely excited to return to a place that I've lived multiple times in my life and I love. So sad + excitement = bittersweet. Ultimately I think it's a good thing that there's going to be so much going on over the next few weeks that I'm not going to have too much time to brood over it.

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.