Juramos

One of the things I like best about public service is the commitment we all make to a set of ideals and principles. We're a country founded on ideals, which is fairly unique around the world. And the first day when we join the government in service we swear an oath to defend those ideals. We don't swear loyalty to a king or queen, to an ethnicity or a creed, but to an idea... a set of principles.

It's a word we don't use as much anymore, oath. For me, it conjures up images of knights or fantasy novels or something vaguely British. But I'll tell you what it means to me. It means that my wife and I have pledged our honor to this country. There's really no turning back now. And we will serve the American people to the best of our ability by always remembering the founding principles of our country while doing our work. 

I've taken the oath at least four times for my various positions in the government. Every time, every time, I tear up a little. A few times that was because I was in the presence of many other people taking the oath with me and all I could think about was how honored I was to be in the company of so many people who also believe in service to their country. Enough to swear an oath at least. Other times I was just a little awed by the power of the words and the universality of the oath. With only very minor variations, everyone swears the same oath, be the person a janitor, an FSO, or the President of the United States. And that's a truly powerful testament to our ideals and the rule of law. 

So last Friday, these are the words I (and the rest of my classmates) said:

I, [name], do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter. So help me God.

I meant every word.

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.

Juntos: La Misma Bandera

It's been a whirlwind of a couple of weeks. We've had a full course of crazy training, from learning about vouchers to offsite leadership (And before you ask, what happens at the offsite stays at the offsite, so don't ask). And of course Friday was the notorious Flag Day.

This flag day was particularly nerve-wracking for the spouse and I, since we've known for about a year that at least one-half of this here tandem couple is headed to Doha, Qatar in 2014. Since Doha was on the bidlist, it was obviously my/our number one choice, but in State Department world there are no guarantees. So it was with genuine trepidation that we entered that auditorium, hoping that the stars would align.

And then they projected this flag:

And they called my name.

And I learned that our long separation will definitely have an end-date. We will be separate for a year and a half. But at the end of 2014, my spouse and I will once again live together in the same place. Diplomats. Tandem. Together. 

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.

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.