Musings of a reluctant mover

In my luxurious life as an EFM, I look forward to dragging my reluctant bum away from yet another home. A home that, once again, I will have spent five months resisting, one month enjoying, and four months freaking out about leaving.

This life would be so much easier if I didn't have dogs, child, cars, or any material goods whatsoever. Of course, such unencumbered and unaccompanied lives have their own challenges, and, all things considered, I would not choose that for myself.

SO, once again, we prepare for packout. Do other people stress out about not having access to a rocking chair for two months? Do they stay up at night wondering if their dog will not be allowed to re-board the plane in Vienna because the Austrians use a 15 digit chip reader instead of a 10 digit reader? Do they spend a great deal of time wondering if they should ship crates of tomato paste to their new homes?

Probably not. Unless they also drag their reluctant bums around the world every year or three.

There are many gaps of support in the FAM, the FS regulations for everything domestic. For example, we couldn't sell our truck in Manila without taking a huge loss (as in, $10K). But even though we were required to spend a year in DC for training, we were only allotted one car shipment, which we used to bring the truck home. The truck is just about sold, and for a good price for both buyer and seller--yay--but now we worry about buying a car in Albania. We could of course buy a new car from somewhere in Europe, but then won't we be in the same boat when we are leaving Albania? The boat where your car is too expensive for both the locals and the Embassy community, and you anticipate at least six months of training in NoVA, where you will need a car? Sigh.

There are also many strengths, most of which, having been back in the US for almost a year, I've forgotten about. But I remember feeling pretty well taken care of, despite our housing adventures. This time we have been assigned a 3 bedroom home where we will likely have enough room to unpack, and a guest room, which is all I want from my life in the FS. That, and a good babysitter who will also do the vacuuming.

Mobile Mama

It's not easy to maintain a routine in a mobile lifestyle. If it's just you and another reasonably flexible adult, you can  make a  routine fit no matter where you are and what you're doing,  but babies and dogs require more stability.

Of our two dogs, Julie, the Vizsla, is having the hardest time re-patriating. Poor Julie, in Manila she was walked three times a day by her friend Tony, who's official title was Driver, but he spent more time with the dogs than he did driving. Since we've been back, Julie has had a hard time adjusting to her American lifestyle. When we brought Kyle home from the US, Julie and Grace barely noticed. They had their aso yaya and Tony, and we were an afterthought. Here, attention is spread very thin. The baby of course absorbs 90% of household energy, leaving a very small amount to be portioned across self-care, relationship care, and dog care, not to mention laundry. 

Julie's not the only one adjusting to our household reducing by 3/5. Kyle has never been an easy sleeper, but since I had a mama's helper in Manila, I never felt the pressure of being on the job 24 hours a day. This is the hardest job I've ever had. Of course I love taking care of my baby-but a lunch break (or a bathroom break) would be nice once in a while.

As we adjust to living in the US, and I adjust to the American model of motherhood--all me, all the time, except on weekends or if a grandparent is visiting--I am trying to maintain a routine despite moving, traveling, home leave, and a million other routine saboteurs. Kyle is a flexible baby, but he is not a low maitenance baby. I am a devoted mama, but I need a little time to be something other than a mama. In the US, those opportunities are few, especially when baby has quit taking naps in his crib because he became accustomed to being held while we were on the move.

Now if you'll excuse me, I see that Kyle is learning how to work doorknobs.

Gotta love the yaya

Nine months later, I finally drag myself back to the computer (or rather, an iPad) and decide it's time to write a blog. A lot has happened in nine months. Six months ago, the mobile home family welcomed a beautiful baby boy! We chose to go home to have the baby and were in Florida for 4 months over the summer and early fall.
Having a baby has significantly changed by perspective on Manila: love our yaya. In addition to loving the fact that I can work part time knowing that my baby is safe and happy at home with his wonderful caregiver, Filipinos welcome babies everywhere! On the plane home from Hong Kong two weeks ago' my 6 month old was active and fussy, but I had plenty of volunteers in the surrounding seats taking turns entertaining the baby. Awesome.
Having a baby has also helped me learn to let go of the little things, a mandatory skill for a life in the foreign service. I just don't have the energy to fret about little things. Maybe that will change when he's older and I'm getting more sleep-
Our next post is Albania. Another 20% hardship, but hopefully one that is hard in different ways from this one. I've learned how to cope with many things about life in Manila that used to irritate me endlessly. For example, traffic is always bad here. How to cope? Don't go anywhere. Seriously. Or rather, be content with going to the one restaurant that's close to you frequently, and make do with whatever the one nearby grocery store is selling. Or even better, order it online at the thegreengrocermanila.com and go to the grocery store as little as possible.
Anyone reading this in the US or at a non hardship post probably thinks I'm nuts, but this is what works for us.
In Albania, the air will be cleaner, there will be mountain views and parks, and the population will be 500,000 instead of 11,553,427. I will still have trouble getting to the grocery store, and when I get there, won't find anything I need. I do not look forward to our next post with rose colored glasses, or beer goggles, depending on your preference, but I hope that I will keep my skill of letting the little things go.

Hardship = Hard on Your Patience

I have never been so patient--or rather, impatient--for so long, and for so many things. My seven months at post could also be called the great patience whirlpool of 2010-11, still ongoing. 

Manila is not unique in its ability to drive a mild-mannered American to insanity. Extraordinary amounts of patience are required at most countries with a State department hardship rating, and in general, Americans are not known for their patience.

Manila's unique demands on my patience usually turn up at the checkout counter. I used to love grocery shopping, and now avoid it because checking out is such an ordeal. Despite being exempt as part of my diplomatic status, I sometimes pay the 12% sales tax because my mental health is more important to me than the money. Even when I'm not using the VAT-exempt card, checking out is cumbersome, and usually involves signing multiple pieces of paper while several salesclerks crowd around you. I used to love browsing the aisles; now I love Amazon.com.

This particular aspect of hardship may have a greater impact on the family member who manages the household. Grocery shopping, paying bills, running errands, and generally providing for the household's daily needs all require multiple weekly trips through a checkout line, not to mention navigating the crowds and roller derby-esqueness of Manila's traffic.

Some things to note: the barreling buses, the jeepneys stopping in the middle of the road, the disembarking jeepney riders strolling across five lanes of traffic, and the general din of the car horns. It is remarkable that there are few serious car accidents, and it is because every Manila driver is paying 110% attention to the road.

How to deal? Beats me. But I can imagine that the more humor you interject into your experience, the easier it is to not take it seriously. For example, "I've been standing here for 20 minutes trying to make you let me pay you and we still aren't done? Isn't that hilarious." "That guy just ran into my side mirror. Now that's entertainment."

If unavoidable daily frustrations can become lovable, or at least entertaining, quirks of the city, the less those frustrations will seep into every interaction you have. This is especially important when the daily stress of being constantly frustrated begins to impact your relationships with co-workers, friends and family members.

Most of this frustration is due to the system being different. If Manila natives were made as crazy as I am by their daily activities, we'd have a city full of adults throwing tantrums fit for a toddler. This is what makes a hardship post hard: the degree to how different it is from life in the US. When I'm having a good day--aka my reservoir of patience is especially full that day--I can see past my frustrations to the beauty of living in Manila. Perhaps by the end of our two year tour I too will consider 30 minutes at the checkout counter a fact of life, and can better appreciate that the clerk who is making me wait wears a genuine smile the entire time.

To read about a FS spouse who doing a fantastic job of making the most of her hardship post, visit A Moveable Kitchen.

Resistance is Futile

A few weeks ago we rented Outsourced, a movie about an American call center manager who travels to India to train his replacement. I recommend this movie to all American expats, and especially to those who have lived or traveled extensively in a developing country. In one scene, the main character, desperate for a cheeseburger, drives to Delhi in pursuit of a McDonald's, only to find that they do not carry beef. Frustrated and generally discontented, he meets another American expat, who, after recommending the veggie burger, counsels the man to stop resisting India.

In Outsourced, this single conversation is a turning point for the main character, who immediately starts embracing life in India. For the rest of us, embracing a culture that is so dramatically different from our own may take a bit more than a single conversation.

The first few months in a new country are difficult, but at first it's easy to be positive. You may find certain aspects of the new culture grating, but in the first months they haven't annoyed you long enough for the irritation to seep into your bones. Once you move past four/five months, the cumulative effect of hundreds of small irritations begins to settle over your mind like a net, and you find yourself trapped in a constant state of resistance.

There are many things about life in Manila an American may resist. You could spend your entire tour should-ing all over everything. There are some aspects I will never love: the environmental catastrophe that is metro Manila, the traffic, and the general lack of structure in most aspects of daily life--with the exception of checking out, which requires one to sign fifteen pieces of paper and visit ten different counters to have one's receipt scribbled upon.

Yet there are many aspects of Manila life that I enjoy, and they are not all related to enjoying the company of my fellow Foreign Service community members. The elastic state of "rules" and "policies" often works in one's favor: take five minutes to stand your ground and you may end up with a discount instead of being ripped off. It doesn't get much better than an hour long massage from a skilled therapist in a clean facility for $10 USD. And it's easy to live in harmony with people who are good-natured, happy, and totally unwilling to engage in conflict. 

I may never embrace the smell of car exhaust greeting me when I step outside my door in the morning, but hopefully, in my second six months in Manila, I can learn to embrace the flow of daily life. I have tried resistance, and discovered that it is indeed futile.

Some things in Manila just make sense.

FLOwing Home

The first few months in a new post are both wonderful and difficult. Each country is unique and presents its own set of challenges, and most people go through a period--usually within the first six months--where everything sucks.

I believe this attitude--which I am familiar with--comes from the cumulative stress of daily life being harder than it was before, and hardship posts may be more disruptive than others. Hardship posts earn their designations for a variety of factors, but they are all cities "where conditions of environment differ substantially from conditions of environment in the United States."  Life in a non-hardship isn't necessarily better, but it's probably easier--at least at first.

Manila is a hardship post with a relatively high differential rating (meaning it's harder than most places), but not for the same reasons as Mauritania, Africa or Kabul. Once I battle the traffic and the smog and arrive at the grocery store I can find most of the things I need (although not necessarily in the same place two weeks in a row) as long as I'm willing to pay for them. But Manila is certainly a place where the environmental conditions are different than the US, which has given me the opportunity to reflect on trade-offs in the Foreign Service.

Throughout our lives we prioritize and make choices, but when basic aspects of life such as housing are inconstant, we are more frequently confronted with the compromises involved in our choices. The Foreign Service requires you to make a lot of choices on faith. You don't really know what a post will be like until after you've lived there a few months. Some times things work out just like you imagined, and sometimes they don't.

When we headed to DC for A-100, I left my career as I knew it behind. A thriving therapy practice and foreign service spousehood don't mix well. I knew that was choosing a professional life change, but I had no idea what that change would look like.

We extensively researched ways for me to have a career--career being a loosely defined term that included everything from jam making to getting another graduate degree, but until recently I had no idea what would happen to my professional identity.

Fortunately I had something to ground me: I knew what I didn't want to do.

There are many things that you give up when you choose a life in the Foreign Service, but this life has benefits far beyond hardship pay differentials and weekend trips to tropical paradises (although I must say the weekend trips are pretty awesome). Thanks to my supervisor's support with unpaid leave and FLO's professional development fellowship program, I am beginning a month-long, intensive, 200 hour vinyasa flow yoga teacher training next week.

For several years being a yoga teacher has been my dream, but it was never feasible because the training requires a significant commitment of time and money, and I already had a full-time job. But now I have the opportunity to pursue a career that would have been difficult if not impossible before we joined the Foreign Service. Thank you, FLO, Manila CLO, and my husband, whose desire to be a Foreign Service Officer helped me find a new professional home!

Julie the Yogini

The Breath of Life

You'd think that writing would be easier after our move overseas, but I've found it to be more difficult. Our first month in the Philippines has offered plenty of potential writing topics, but the idea of organizing any of them in to an essay is exhausting.

There's so much information to process in the first weeks at a new post it's difficult to think, much less write. I didn't recognize that I was feeling overwhelmed until I tried to organize my thoughts into a blog. Being a former hospice social worker, I find myself comparing the new post adjustment process to Therese Rando's six Rs of grief:

• Recognize the loss/change: People must experience the loss/change and understand that it has happened. 
• "I'm where?! Who are you people? And what is that smell?"

• React: People react emotionally to their loss/change. 
• "!@#$$%% palm oil!"

• Recollect and Re-Experience: People may review memories of their lost relationship (events that occurred, places visited together, or day to day moments that were experienced together).
• "Remember when I could breathe inside a supermarket? Those were good times."
  

• Relinquish: People begin to put their loss behind them, realizing and accepting that the world has truly changed and that there is no turning back. 
• "I accept that the smell of frying palm oil is a part of my new world, and am grateful for the places where that smell is absent."

• Readjust: People begin the process of returning to daily life and the loss/change starts to feel less acute and sharp. 
• "Oh look, I can buy Wesson canola oil in the grocery store!"

• Reinvest: Ultimately, people re-enter the world, forming new relationships and commitments. They accept the changes that have occurred and move past them. 
• "I am fortunate that the use of palm oil in the Philippines has significantly reduced my french fry consumption."

In addition to my palm oil adjustment, there are many other aspects of change that require their own set of Rs. No wonder we call it culture shock. We are enjoying our life here and working hard on adapting our expectations. You don't realize what you take for granted until you are confronted with it's absence. Such as fresh, clean, palm-oil-free air.

Beyond Barbed Wire

Living and working abroad as a private citizen can be difficult, but living and working abroad as a Foreign Service family can be weird. As a Foreign Service employee your compensation includes shipping your household effects and vehicle, most work related travel expenses incurred by you and your dependents, and, of course, diplomatic legal protection, but you spend much of your daily life surrounded by other Americans. In many ways this familiarity is comforting, but it takes extra effort to immerse yourself in the foreign country's culture.

Many Foreign Service families do fully experience living in another culture, but it requires one to venture beyond one's normal routine, and in our case, the barbed wired walls and armed guards protecting our housing community. By our third week here my body was adapting to the environment and time change and we were starting to feel settled, but every night before bed I felt a little anxious, and it wasn't because I had just moved to a foreign country. It was because I had moved to a foreign country but was spending most of my time within the walls of a place that looked a lot like South Florida.

As a post Manila is unique in that it would be easy to try to insulate oneself from the city's culture. You can't avoid the traffic, the pollution, or seeing evidence of extreme poverty as you drive to work, but you can eat at Chili's, shop for groceries at S&R (Costco), and watch Scrubs and Everybody Loves Raymond on local cable in your air-conditioned housing. You'd find yourself inconvenienced by not finding everything you want, but life would be familiar. In many ways, having access to American products is one of the benefits of this post, but it can also feel surreal.

Fortunately for me, the weekend after I began to feel agitated we went to Tagaytay, which, being without transportation, we wouldn't have been able to do without our wonderful friends.  In Tagaytay I finally felt like I was living in a foreign country, and the bedtime anxiety disappeared. I find it interesting that in order to feel comfortable I had to pushed out of my comfort zone.

The Foreign Service community is one of the best things about life in the foreign service, but experiencing the exotic aspects of life abroad is equally important to enjoying this lifestyle. I look forward to exploring the Philippines further, and, in case I haven't mentioned it, the arrival of our car.

Food, Whine, and the Foreign Service

I have always been willing to try different types of food, but our move to the Philippines has challenged my flexibility. And not just balut or this local delicacy:

 

Having never traveled in a country where you can't rely on basic sanitation practices, much less drink the water, being afraid of my food is a new experience for me. Between our lack of transportation and the amoebas, these past two and a half weeks I have been much more interested in cooking.

However, after my first week of freaking out, my fear has not kept me from exploring the local cuisine. It has made me much more conscious of my food choices. My first time at every new restaurant I wonder, will this be the one that does it? But as long as it smells good I eat it anyway.

 

I'm glad I'm trying the food, because Manila has a lot to offer. We had a special occasion to celebrate during our time here, and we went to a French restaurant in Fort Bonifacio. I can't remember ever having sorbet in a tea kettle full of dry ice.

 

 

I had so much fun playing with it I almost forgot to eat it. And in case you were wondering if Starbucks has anything different in Asia:

 

Manila is a hardship post, but not for lack of fresh fruits and vegetables. The local large supermarkets haven't impressed me with their produce, but then again, neither did the grocery stores back home. However, the local farmers' markets are excellent.

Lime-skinned Oranges

I have been enjoying planning our dinners around what looks good at the market on Sundays. 

And if we don't want to cook, we can order in. You can have almost anything delivered in Manila. Tonight we had Indian food delivered to our door. It wasn't quite as delicious as Haandi in Falls Church, but it was good!

Practicing good food safety habits is prudent, but hiding in fear of amoebas is not necessary. I could eat all of my meals at home and still find myself sick. Fortunately we have a good med unit, and I just learned how to make homemade yogurt.

Finding Home Again

Within 48 hours of landing in Manila everyone, including the dogs, was sick--our house was full of coughing dogs and sniffling, feverish, and generally unhappy humans. In addition, I was scared to eat. This being our first post and my first time in a developing country, I did not know what to do when told that I couldn't drink the water outside of our house, bleaching vegetables was recommended, and getting amoebic dysentery was a way of life. At the end of our first week I started experiencing stomach pains, which I was sure meant that I was going to die of an amoeba attack, but it turns out that I likely brought it on myself by taking too much Vitamin C on an empty stomach. A week ago I was questioning our decision to join the Foreign Service for the first time. Why would I want to live somewhere that made me sick?

However, over the weekend I started feeling better and had the opportunity to explore the city, and both my health and my outlook improved. Our sponsors took me to a wonderful plant market, where I bought seven healthy plants, including an orchid, for $14. I made sure to get several spider plants, which help clean the air. And our neighbors took me to the Legaspi Market, where I was overjoyed to find good quality organic produce. Finding houseplants and a good place to go grocery shopping are important steps in my nesting process.

This week has been completely different. I am enjoying my job, found a great yoga studio, and our newly hired part-time helper/aso ya ya is wonderful. We have trips out of the city planned, we've made new friends, and we've renewed friendships with old(er) friends. I have yet to die of an amoeba attack--always a plus.

Last week I knew better than to make judgments about Manila based on what I had been experiencing thus far. My initial emotional response to feeling sick, overwhelmed, and isolated was normal, and I was fairly sure that things would improve. We didn't expect to feel so confined by not having a vehicle, but there's very little we can walk to from our house, and the air quality does not make walking a pleasant experience--at least not if you're anywhere near a large street. Fortunately there is a dog park next to our building where Julie and Grace can run, and my new air filtering mask works very well. I am even no longer particularly bothered by the smell of frying palm oil, and in fact, recognize it as a sign that I should avoid that restaurant.

Settling in to our new home will have its ups and downs, and I know that cultivating flexibility and living in the present will help us adjust. It's hard to be worried about the future when you're busy absorbing what's going on right now. We still look forward to having our car, but after a couple of taxi rides and getting to know our new friends and neighbors, we no longer feel isolated, just inconvenienced.

 All settled in

First impressions

In the weeks when you are preparing for your first overseas assignment, it’s hard to imagine what it will really be like when you finally arrive. You research what others say about the area, but you also keep yourself open so that you can come into the experience without prejudices.

It’s also important to keep an open mind during your first few weeks, when everything is different and you and your body are adjusting to being in a (non-western) foreign country. For example, I am refraining from making any assessments because I have been sick since our third day here. First a horrible cold, and now some kind of stomach thing. My impression of our med unit is very positive.

Our second day here was great. Our sponsors drove us around the area surrounding our apartment, and we were able to see the incredible contrast that is common in Manila. First we drove around the local community market, which was very much what one might expect to find in a developing country. Then we went to the Mall of Asia, which, with its indoor skating rink, can be compared to the Mall of America. It was a very familiar--and very western--experience. Even in the most expensive areas of town you see evidence of poverty when you see the people who live immediately outside the community's walls.

I eagerly await the arrival of our truck, internet access in our home, and to be healthy again. My first impression of Manila is that it would be easy to surround oneself with things that are familiar--malls, IMAX theater, American grocery store brands (including Florida’s Natural orange juice), but then what would be the point of living on the other side of the planet? It’s comforting to have these things available but ... I look forward to having opportunities to explore.

The dogs arrived healthy, happy, and energetic last Saturday morning. We were so relieved to see them, and I highly recommend KLM as a pet shipper. Grace’s ear continues to heal, and Julie is loving the grassy dog park at the foot of our building.

Healing nicely

Pack it up, pack it in

Let us begin. I came to travel, blessed me, it's a hassle.
I promise I won't crack up; sir, you'd better back up 
Don't return my emails and the whole crew will act up.
Get up, stand up, come on throw your hands up
If you've got a notion, jump across the ocean.

As we approach our second Foreign Service move, I find myself repeating many of the same concerns I had when we left Florida. Although I will continue to be unsettled until we have our questions answered by arriving, it is comforting to recognize that these feelings are simply part of being in a cycle of change.

Housing
In February we moved from a 3/2 house with a backyard to a one-bedroom apartment. I had low expectations for our temporary corporate housing, and was pleasantly surprised to discover that the apartments were nicer than I imagined. However, after four months of sharing a small space with two dogs and way too much stuff, my feng shui is thoroughly off balance. In Manila we will have a two bedroom apartment, but I'm still worried. Instead of a few months we'll be living in this apartment for two years, and as every FS GSO knows, housing is a very personal matter.

Dogs
Before we arrived here we were concerned about Julie adapting to apartment life, but were pleased to discover that the people in the metro DC area value green spaces. The parks in Northern Virginia are beautiful, and the dogs are getting more outdoor exercise here than they did in Florida. We have been getting mixed reports about the availability of dog-friendly green space in Manila, not to mention references to aso being a delicacy in the provinces north of Manila. Fortunately the American compound is said to have green space where we can walk the dogs, and if you've ever met a Vizsla who hasn't had a long walk recently, you know why we're concerned.

Career Goals
I left my job behind in Florida, and once I gave myself permission to relax, have been enjoying my time off. Not working has given me mental space to reflect on my priorities, and has helped me understand what I want out of a career. Ironically, our joining the foreign service could end up being a boost for my career, as not being obligated to work at a full time job has allowed to consider options that would have been financially risky in Florida. However, when we get to Manila I will need to start acting on my ideas, which is much harder than just thinking about them.

Distance from Friends and Family
The south pacific is a bit farther from Florida than DC. However, I'm grateful for Skype and email, and at least a twelve hour time difference will be easy to calculate.

Although we worried about these changes before we left Florida, we settled into our DC life easily and comfortably, and I hope that our transition to Manila will also be similarly smooth. Of course, moving to a foreign country will require additional adaptations, but I have enough to think about right now without additions.

Suspecting her of wanting to disrupt her comfort, Grace gives Julie the stink eye.

Poetry inspired by House of Pain

                And the next day .........

Grace's suspicion is validated!

Mobile Home

The importance of bringing familiar household items with you to help make you feel "at home" in your embassy housing is well known in the Foreign Service community. Although difficult to consider when you're packing out and want to get rid of everything, the difference between living in a hotel and a home may be what you do to make the space your own. However, when you move every couple of years, truly feeling at home in each new place may require cognitive as well as physical adjustments.

Sometimes our home is simply the place where we reside. While on vacation, I find myself saying that I'm ready to "go home" when I'm ready to go back to the hotel room. Sometimes we feel that we are at home when we find a place that fits well with our interests and values, even if we don't live there. Some people identify so strongly with their hometowns that they never feel at home anywhere else, and some will always consider the place where they grew up home, even if they establish another home elsewhere. In all of these definitions, home is a place where we can go to rest and regroup before heading out into the world again. However, those who feel most at home in a mobile lifestyle may prove that home doesn't necessarily have to be a place.


Feeling at home is connected to one's emotional state, attitude, and social network and thus, may not necessarily depend on a physical location. When you live in the same place for a long time you attach feelings of belonging to that specific place, but it may be possible to attach those same feelings to a community--even a worldwide community. If our homes are places of refuge, familiarity, and belonging, then perhaps home can be a group of people who share a common experience or lifestyle.When I think about why I consider Florida home I realize that if the people I care about didn't live there, the physical place would likely cease to be home.

Some new Foreign Service families come from a long history of frequent moves, but those of us who are used to being at home in a specific place will need to broaden our understanding of what makes a place home. For myself, one of my homes will be in Florida, but I hope I will continue to feel that I belong in the Foreign Service community.

Foreign Service Limbo II: Cultivating Yin

There are different understandings of yin, especially in western culture, but most Americans associate it with the yin-yang symbol from Chinese philosophy.

In my yoga practice, I associate yin with a deeper, slower practice, as opposed to the more active practice of vinyasa, sometimes known as flow or power yoga. This afternoon in a yin yoga class, I realized that the balance of yin and yang in yoga may serve as a useful guide when navigating the Foreign Service limbo.

As I wrote last week, when something is difficult we are tempted to rush through it, and sometimes hurt ourselves in the process. In yin yoga, you hold the poses longer than you would in a flow class, and although it seems like baddha konasana (butterfly) would not be particularly difficult for an experienced yogi, holding the asana for a full five minutes can be challenging.

As I persisted in my five minute baddha konasana, it reminded me of my experience as a foreign service spouse. At first, getting into a great stretch feels wonderful and liberating, but if you hold it long enough it may start to feel uncomfortable and perhaps even restrictive. However, if you patiently work through the period of discomfort, you find calm and balance waiting for you on the other side.

When you are preparing to move and/or adjusting to a new place, you may feel displaced and uncomfortable once the novelty wears off, and it's tempting to want to ease the discomfort by trying to change your situation. However, in the Foreign Service you may not have the ability to do so and thus, it may be better to hold steady. Once again I refer to the wonderful chart from Diplolife.

If you act when it starts to get uncomfortable, you risk that you will never experience the enjoyment of appreciating what your current circumstances have to offer. The exception being when the circumstances are clearly a bad fit, or rather, if you can't bend back, stay away from back bends.

Yoga and the foreign service both teach the importance of staying present--of being fully aware of what's going on in the moment, and not getting caught up by the past or tangled in expectations for the future. We are scheduled to leave for post in July, and although I am finding this period of waiting somewhat awkward, I intend to continue appreciating what it has to offer. Hopefully next year, when we are once again bidding on posts, I will have learned things that will help me balance the yin and yang of life in the foreign service.

Foreign Service Relocation Limbo: how loose can you hang?

According to Wikipedia, the limbo, a dance that originated in Trinidad, "reflects the whole cycle of life." A dancer's ability to clear the pole as it is gradually lowered symbolizes "the triumph of life over death." Although successfully relocating in the Foreign Service is certainly not a triumph over death, it can be difficult, and a successful transition requires many of the same abilities as the limbo.

Flexibility is a core requirement for both a mobile life and a limbo dancer. If your body isn't built for back bends, don't bend it back--unless you love seeing your orthopedist. Similarly, if you dislike change, don't choose a life in the foreign service. However, flexibility alone may not be sufficient for either.

Flexibility is high-maintenance. You must warm up, honor your limits, and know that every day brings a new adventure. If you rush, you're more likely to be injured, yet it's natural to want to speed through something that makes us uncomfortable. Navigating change requires patience.

Foreign Service Officers and their families spend a lot of time dealing with the indeterminate future. First you wonder where you'll be assigned, then you wonder when you'll get your orders, then you wait for all the details from all the different departments to come together: housing, travel orders, training schedules, etc. Between the date of your assignment and your arrival you need a lot of answers from a few very busy people, and the necessity of being patient can conflict with our desire to be autonomous.

Knowing when to push forward, and when to hold steady, is the key to the limbo that is life in the foreign service. Self-advocacy is essential, but unusual anxiety about not knowing can be harmful. Every two years you dance another relocation limbo, but once you're clear, the rewards can be extraordinary.

The Simplicity of Mobility

No one joins the Foreign Service expecting to simplify his or her life. No one thinks, "My life is so complicated. I think I'll become a traveling diplomat (or a diplomat's spouse/partner)." When compared to the comfort and stability of a stationary life, how could a life of incessant travel be simple? Yet constant mobility encourages--and often enforces--simple living.

Possessions: When you live in one place for an extended period of time, you start to collect things. I am not particularly prone to packrat behavior, but neither am I a master of de-cluttering. I just might need that ____ someday. However, because the Foreign Service will only ship 7, 650 lbs of a family's belongings, one learns to choose what to keep very carefully. In addition, with the exception of a 400 lb air shipment, these belongings have to travel across oceans to reach you, and thus, FS families must learn to do without most  of their things for anywhere from a few weeks to a few months. And when you realize that you can live without that ____, having it suddenly becomes a burden.

Ambition: On the surface, it appears to be extremely difficult to have a continuous career as a foreign service spouse. And if you stay attached to your stateside career expectations, it is difficult. A spouse's traditional career trajectory is often abruptly interrupted when he or she relocates to DC or overseas, but this change does not need to derail his or her career. In my experience, the more comfortable I become with my career change, the more I realize the opportunities embedded in the lifestyle. If I define a career as doing something I enjoy and feel is meaningful, regardless of pay, my career paths are limitless.

Opportunities for Learning: I have always been a curious person, and am motivated to seek new experiences. As a social worker with a full time job, it took a lot of planning and energy to obtain education outside of my workplace, not to mention trying to fit exotic travel into my weekends and vacation days. Life in the Foreign Service provides the stability of having a home and an income and the adventure of traveling, and thus, I feel freedom in knowing that, every two years, my home will be the new experience.

Responsibilities: Speaking of collecting things, one set of items that have been steadily increasing for the last five years are our bills. Stationary life combined with a steady dual income encourages spending, and since we've joined the foreign service we've been shedding expenses. Thank heaven we never bought a second home. Unlike relocating as a private citizen, State pays for a large portion of its officers' moving expenses, hires movers to pack you out, and assigns housing at every new post. You may not always like the choices made for you, but there is a wonderful simplicity in not having a choice.

This is not to say that life in the Foreign Service is easy--it has plenty of challenges. However, it has been a pleasant surprise to realize that what seems like a complicated lifestyle has actually simplified my life in many ways.

It's a foreign service dog's life.

Attitude and the Collective Consciousness

Life in the foreign service takes you out of your comfort zone, and although your comfort zone expands as you adjust, there may be certain aspects of living abroad that always make you anxious. Everyone interacts with a place differently, and as we travel one of the most important things we have the opportunity to explore is ourselves.

Anxiety about not having control comes with worldwide availability, and it is not uncommon to feel the need to distance ourselves from posts that scare us. However, by being aware of our feelings, we may be able to avoid harming our fellow foreign service members by imposing our negative feelings on our teammates.

Everyone has a different opinion about what makes a post "good." Some people love small hardship posts for their tight knit embassy communities. Some are happiest in large, cosmopolitan cities. Some people love danger posts in developing countries for the opportunity to be a part of an important American mission at the ground level. Some base everything on whether or not they can take their Vizsla for a walk. Regardless of our personal preferences, communicating negative opinions about another person's post assignment is never helpful.

It is perfectly ok to have feelings about a post, and absolutely necessary to express these feelings in an appropriate manner to the appropriate people. However, because our experiences are influenced by our expectations, we must be sensitive about expressing negativity to our fellow teammates in the diplomatic community. Facts are helpful; negative emotion is not. This includes feelings about a post's safety, especially if that post has recently made the news.

When you are going to a hardship or danger differential post--or both--it helps to know that you have the support of your community behind you. That your service is appreciated as a contribution to a larger global purpose; not as something happening to you, but as something you are doing with the support of others. 

We have all, at some point, responded poorly when hearing of someone else's post assignment. What is important is whether or not we were aware that we responded poorly. As a whole the foreign service is remarkably supportive and collegial, and it is this characteristic that makes it a joy to be part of this community. However, mindful sensitivity is an ongoing practice, and we must remember that even when we are separated by oceans, we are all in this together.

Julie overcomes her fear of the unknown

Blue Sky Thinking

In American culture, a person's identity is linked to his or her job. We make assumptions, sometimes incorrectly, about an individual based on his or her profession. When a person is occupied in a way that makes it difficult to label him or her as a teacher, doctor, lawyer, homemaker, etc., the average American may find him or herself at a loss as how to define this person. We want want to know what you do.

Indeed, having something to do is important to our sense of self, and having fulfilling work contributes to our happiness, but the nature of the foreign service lifestyle requires an FSO's family members to be extraordinarily flexible regarding career opportunities, school choices, and many other aspects of daily life. For some FS family members, it is difficult to see past these losses to appreciate the rewards.

When our family decided to pursue a life in the foreign service, we agreed that I would not be expected to have a paid job. Although many foreign service families do not feel that one income will support their needs--perhaps especially those with kids heading to college--foreign service family members are not guaranteed a job at post. Thus, family member employment is an important element of the Family Liaison Office's advocacy and resource development. However, even though I do not feel compelled to have a paid job, I do seek "active indispensable employment."

Regardless of whether or not I am paid, I will always be able to define myself as a social worker as long as my work contributes to social justice and social change. However, before we left Florida, I wasn't sure that volunteer work could sustain my career. And I was concerned that not being paid could make me feel that I was less of a contributing family member.

I am no longer worried. As I research the opportunities to practice social work in Manila, I find myself drawn to volunteer and per diem work rather than full time paid jobs. Although that may change, I also realize that if I have a full time job as an embassy office worker, I will have less time to explore the city and learn about Filipino culture. However I employ myself, looking for work as a foreign service spouse is difficult, but offers the opportunity to expand one's definition of a meaningful occupation.

Beyond Boundaries

When people are thrown together into an unknown situation, it is not uncommon for strong friendships to form quickly. Everyone is new, most are excited, and more than a few are a little anxious. The shared experience forms common ground, and your fellows in the process may come to feel like family.

In the Foreign Service generalist orientation, it only takes about four weeks for these bonds to form. Between the long days of class, the formal and informal social events, and a high percentage of the class living in one of the three Oakwood housing complexes, most FS officers and their families feel quite comfortable with each other by the time Flag Day rolls around. Thus, it can be startling to realize that the people who have shared this experience with you will soon be scattered around the world.

Although it may seem odd that some of us are leaving in April while others are here until February of next year, the friendships formed in A-100--and at our future two or three year posts--will endure beyond the boundaries of fourteen hour flights. And we have friends to visit in every part of the world. We have already invited ourselves to Mexico, Africa, China, and a few more.

Today we go to the swearing in ceremony at main State--"graduation" from A-100--and next week the newly appointed FSOs and some of their family members will start language and/or job specific training. For some, this may be the point at which the journey begins to feel real. For others, it's just another chapter. I'm just hoping that everyone has a guest room.

The 151st A-100 plans its leave time

Project Relax

Foreign service spouses, like their officer partners, tend to be flexible, open-minded, and adaptable. Although foreign service families originate from a wide variety of backgrounds and experiences, these basic qualities may be a prerequisite for even considering a mobile lifestyle, much less making the decision to uproot yourself and your family and dive in headfirst.

However, flexibility does not equal indifference, and being willing to adapt does not mean one is aimless. Spouses who accompany their partners overseas do not do so because they don't have personal goals and ambitions, and thus, face the unique challenge of finding a way to grow and develop within the parameters of constant mobility and/or waiting to be moved.

The Foreign Service is aware of this, and does its best to help its officers' partners thrive as foreign service spouses. In  addition to its training classes, the family liaison office network points us in the direction of valuable telecommuting resources such as the Rat Race Rebellion. However, by funneling us towards activity, these solution-focused resources don't address the first thing a new foreign service spouse needs to do: relax.

For those of us who have left or are anticipating leaving active careers, being in the pre-overseas departure limbo can be disconcerting. Up to this point our professional lives have been focused on upward mobility, and our first instinct in reacting to this change is to continue moving. However, the nature of the foreign service requires its officers' partners to be willing to stand still for weeks, and sometimes even months, which can be counter intuitive to a goal-oriented individual. Thus, my first goal is to embrace being on an extended vacation--to take a sacred pause--and the rest will come as it may.

From Garfield minus Garfield

 Project Relax has total buy-in from Julie and Grace