Management Officers (GSOs)

See, I really am in DC!!


The first thing you're required to do when you begin the process of joining the Foreign Service is to select your 'cone'. There are five career tracks and you have to pick yours prior to taking the written test which is the first step in the road. The different career tracks, known as 'cones', are Political, Economic, Consular, Public Diplomacy and Management. I chose Management.

Management folks are the people who take care of the running of our embassies so the other cones can go about their business and not worry about procuring supplies, running the motor pool, acquiring housing, managing the local staff, etc. In short, Management Officers provide a support function at our embassies and go through extensive training to ensure that they have the skills necessary to keep the infrastructure operating smoothly.

At each of our embassies, we hire most of our staff locally. These FSNs (Foreign Service Nationals) are supervised, primarily, by the Management branch and they become, over time, the experts in most of the admin jobs. While Management Officers rotate in and out every one, two or three years, the FSNs remain in place and possess the institutional memory that is so essential in running any organization. So, wherever you go as a GSO or Management Officer, you have a cadre of local hires reporting to you who know the job and the routines much better than you do. That doesn't present an insurmountable problem because your job is to manage and supervise, not to get down and turn the wrenches.

The GSO's areas of responsibility include housing, supplies, purchasing, motorpool, warehousing, maintenance, human resources, and travel. A lot of work to be sure, with a wide range of required skills. Islamabad has a staff of GSOs and I'm still trying to find out which responsibilities they have in mind for me. I'm looking forward to being part of the team there even if it is still five months away. It will be nice to get back to work again.

From the sound of it, we Management Officers seem to have pretty interesting jobs. We get a variety of work, we are essential to the smooth operation of our embassies, we work hand in hand with host country nationals who have the expertise to make us look good and we generally bask in the warm glow of goodwill emanating from our colleagues in the other cones. Or, perhaps not...

I've spent the last week learning all about handling 'housing' complaints. From the sound of it, our diplomats abroad do nothing but complain about their housing and all of those complaints are directed at the poor GSO. I've come to the conclusion that it must be mandatory for everyone to complain about their housing as soon as they arrive at post. "Look here, John, you've been at post for nearly a week now and you haven't lodged your housing complaints. Are you having personal problems at home that might prevent you from whining? If not, get to it, Man, we have high standards of griping here in Kafiristan and we can't have you lowering the bar." From the way it's been presented to us, pretty much all we do is deal with complaints about housing that is a) too small b) too far away c) too close in or d) not as nice as... (fill in someone else's name here; who, by the way, is also complaining about his/her house). It's nice to see that no one ever complains about the housing being too expensive and that, of course, is because it is all provided to them for FREE. There are many other things that people complain about when living abroad, but housing seems to top the list. Of course, no diplomat in his/her right mind would ever bring a housing appeal forward based on the "their house is nicer than mine" argument, so they have security issues, or insoluble pest infestations, or 'official' duties that require larger quarters than their entitlement. Management Officers get management training, Consular Officers get consular training and I believe the diplomats (Econs, Politicos and Pub Dips) get a course on how to assess their status at post based on their housing.

This will surprise those of you who know me, but my plan is to try to make people happy with their housing in Islamabad if I end up with the housing responsibility. Just as long as my house is the nicest on the block and better than everyone else's under the rank of Ambassador, I'll work day and night to ensure that almost everyone has very little to complain about. Of course, some complaining will always be inevitable but people will come to see that malcontents end up in houses that barnyard animals refuse to enter.

Actually, there are very strict rules and regulations governing the assignment of housing to try to make it as equitable as possible given the variety of housing that exists at our posts worldwide. In Islamabad, for example, the housing reputation is terrific and the houses are, apparently, very nice.

I'm going camping and tubing this weekend on a river in Virginia. It'll be nice to get out of the DC area for a short break so I've signed up for this trip with about fifteen of my colleagues. The last time I went off into the wilds, I ended up climbing a mountain in Bulgaria! I'm hoping to float around in my tube with a beer in one hand and cigar in the other while telling rude jokes to my compadres. I'm leaving the Urdu books home and intend to do nothing more strenuous than walk all the way down to the river with my tube on my shoulder. There is talk of a hike on Sunday, but I'll need much more specific information on the definition of 'hike' before I strap on my boots. Some of my colleagues seem fit enough to stroll over to Kentucky and foolish enough to try!


This is the 133rd's Team Lunch Table in the cafeteria.


Would you let this man assign your housing? I intend to begin whining about my own house in the taxi on the way in from the airport!

Time Goes By

This is the VIP Entrance to the Foreign Service Institute.


This coming week will be the last week for the Acquisitions course and the final exam will be on Thursday. It turns out that along with that $5.5 million dollar credit card, I've been given a book of regulations governing its use. There are 1,983 pages of regulations so I, apparently, will not be purchasing the Ferrari right away. My own personal credit cards still have many tens of dollars in unused credit line available and the book of regulations governing their use simply says, "If you can afford it, buy it!" Still, I think I would have looked pretty good in a government financed Ferrari.

We must score at least an 80% on the final exam or face the very unpleasant prospect of repeating Acquisitions. With that in mind, I spent this weekend reviewing the material and wishing I'd paid more attention during class. The concepts involved in making purchases at post are fairly straightforward; ensure that funding has been approved, check three sources for competitive bids and go with the lowest price from a qualified supplier. Unfortunately, it appears that a few details were thrown our way during the past three weeks to elaborate on those three directives and many of those details will, undoubtedly, be on the exam. It would all be right in my notes, had I bothered to take notes. Not to worry, I have the reference material, a passing familiarity with the handouts and three days to 'refresh' my memory.

I received my "Welcome to Post" email on Friday! This is actually pretty cool because it lets me know that they are now aware that I'm coming. Over the next couple of months I can begin to get information on living conditions, which job I'll be doing and the specific date they want me to start. I finish all my scheduled training courses on the 26th of October, so anytime after that weekend will be great. A couple of my friends will be leaving for Pakistan over the next few months and I'll have plenty of firsthand information to help me plan my own departure. Several people who have returned from Islamabad have suggested that I ship my car over because having a car is a necessity there and the available used cars are pretty expensive. I asked if it made any difference that my car is lefthand drive (Pakistan goes with righthand drive) and was told, "no, no one pays much attention to any rules of the road there anyway". I'll ship the Volvo and keep the Mustang in storage.

If you plan to live in Pakistan for any extended period of time, there are a few things you need to get in advance. The recommended immunization list is as follows:

Hepatitis A
Hepatitis B
Yellow Fever
Japanese Encephalitis (Why Japanese and not Pakistani?)
Rabies (Yes, I can now bite people without infecting them with rabies!)
Typhoid
Malaria
Tetanus

In addition to these precautionary immunizations, be aware that there is a high risk of contracting severe diarrhea and that tuberculosis is endemic in the area. There is a lesser probability of contracting dengue fever or leishmaniasis (both subcutaneous and visceral)...which as you may already know is transmitted by sand flies. And don't get me started on influenza! Pakistan appears to be an equal opportunity infector! So, roll up your sleeves and get your visa, I'm accepting reservations for the guest room now.

I'm putting a few pictures of the FSI (Foreign Service Institute) here. By the time I complete my training and leave for Islamabad, I'll have been here for eight months and, as you can see, it isn't a completely terrible place to work.

Outside the cafeteria.

Language Building

Lounge

Old Building

Picnic Grounds



Finally, please remember that Aliph with the double diacritic zuber above it is pronounced as Noon when it comes at the end of a word. Oh, and the words for 'go straight' and 'turn right' seem to be exactly the same, 'sadhee', which apparently doesn't lead to as much confusion as you might expect, although I don't have a clue why not but it may have something to do with that 'ignoring the rules of the road' business!

How am I doing in Urdu, you ask....fair to middlin', fair to middlin'.

I Saw Salman Ahmad!!

My colleague Lisa is in the ConGen course right now, learning the duties and responsibilities associated with her upcoming position as Vice-Consul in Islamabad. The fellow sitting next to her in that class was invited to the Pakistani Embassy last Friday night to attend a diplomatic reception followed by a concert. At the last minute, he discovered that he was unable to go and asked Lisa if she'd like to go in his place. She didn't want to go alone and asked if I could go with her since we are both headed for Islamabad. So, in this very round-a-bout way I was more or less invited, by the Pakistani Ambassador, to a reception and concert at the Embassy. At any rate I'm fairly positive that the first assistant to his personal secretary was probably somewhat aware that I was coming along with someone who was replacing the original invitee.

So...having been invited to my first official diplomatic event, how would I dress? Well, the invitation was quite specific on this point and dress was to be 'informal'. Lisa suggested that I might want to interpret that as 'business informal' and I changed out of my jeans and Def Leppard t-shirt and into khakis, a button down shirt and a tie. I hoped I wouldn't stand out as the 'over-dressed' bozo at the party.

Nature, in all its glory, would be hard pressed to equal the splendor of a room full of Pakistani women dressed for an 'informal' event. They came into the reception hall in small groups like schools of brightly colored reef fish and moved around the room like flocks of tropical birds. They were all wearing the traditional Khalwar Shameeses and flashed and sparkled with gold and silver jewelry. If there was a woman in that room who had spent less than two hours on her hair and make-up, I didn't see her. The Pakistani men were all, without exception, wearing dark business suits. Fortunately, I wasn't the only man in the room not wearing a dark suit. Most of the 'foreign' guests were dressed less formally than the Pakistanis, including a couple of Neanderthals wearing jeans and polo shirts. The very nerve! Apparently, in diplo-speak 'informal' means don't bother to wear your tux.

Because Pakistan is an Islamic country, the bar served soft drinks and fruit drinks but no alcohol. Nonetheless, conversation was lively and people seemed to be enjoying themselves in the reception hall. I met a Consular Officer and his wife who were from Lahore and they told me quite a bit about their city in particular and Pakistan in general. After speaking with them for quite a while, I've moved Lahore to the top of my 'must visit' list.

The food was excellent and plentiful so Lisa and I filled our plates, diplomatically, and snuck back for seconds. Then we went upstairs to the concert. Salman Ahmad is known as the John Lennon of Pakistan. He's quite a famous guy in that part of the world and had been invited here by the Ambassador to sing just for this event. He accompanied himself on the electric guitar and had a tamboori player sitting alongside him. That was very special for this event because the tamboori player was an Indian man and, given the historical state of tension between Pakistan and India, it was somewhat unprecedented that an Indian musician would be allowed to play at an official event in the Pakistani Embassy. Salman Ahmad is a Sufi Muslim which is a less well-known branch of the religion than Sunni or Shiite. They are the pacifists of Islam and seek to promote understanding and tolerance everywhere. Salman Ahmad also spends much of his time, talent and money helping to develop HIV/Aids awareness throughout the underdeveloped nations of the world. I suppose that's why he's known as Pakistan's John Lennon, that and the pony-tail. His music was good, in fact, it was very good. It's sort of driving rock & roll with a distinct Urdu flavor and the tamboori drums really had the place rocking.

I bought one of his cd's after the concert and have just spent an hour trying to put a song on this blog, but for the life of me I can't figure out how to do it. If anyone knows how to attach an mp3 file to a blog, I'd be grateful for the information.

The parking lots at the FSI are set in a circle around the perimeter of the campus. There are unmanned security gates at each of the outer lots and you gain access by putting your security id into a sensor and punching in your individual code number. Often this will cause the gate to unlatch and you can proceed through it to the campus. Sometimes, however, the gate does not unlatch right away and you need to reinsert your card and try again. If you are in a hurry or the weather is bad the gate never works and people behind you in line begin offering helpful suggestions. I like to use the lot behind the Language Building because it is the closest lot with the shortest walk and I'm basically lazy. It was pouring rain and cold one morning a week or so ago and by the time I got to the gate there was a line of frustrated language instructors trying to get through. The language instructors are mostly women in their late forties to early sixties and the 'helpful' suggestions they were giving each other in all the languages in the known world would have shamed a carnival barker. I'm quite certain I recognized the Bulgarian word for 'donkey' used several times.

I'm currently in my second module of GSO training. Last week in Module One we were given Tools of Management. These turned out to be things like Group Dynamics, Conducting Effective Meetings, Time Management etc. One earnest presenter even took the time to explain the clip art he'd put on his PowerPoint presentation while he read it to us. They all seemed to be required to read their presentations to us and to give us hard copies of the slides for posterity. Tools for management indeed, I'm sure that in some way I'm a better man for it.

This week is better. Module Two is Acquisitions and we'll be learning how to buy things on behalf of the government. Believe it or not, I'll be getting a credit card with a $5,500,000 limit on it. I have run a Mapquest on the closest Ferrari dealership and am now accepting applications for 'trophy wives' (Note the plural). I suspect that some form of regulation will come along with the card, but for now I intend to engage in massive acquisition planning. Learning to spend the government's money is hard work and I fully intend to become good at it.

Finally, I went into DC this past weekend and spent an afternoon at the Museum of the American Indian. It's well worth your time if you come to visit. The building itself is quite beautiful and I'll stick a couple of photos of it here.

So, until next time 'Haam kaal malingay' or 'see you again'.

ليرى گغعمعل

As close as I can come to it, that's my name in Urdu. You have to read it from right to left and please don't forget that 'chotti yey' and 'bari yey' are only one letter even though they have two different shapes and two different pronounciations. The Urdu alphabet has thirty-eight letters with three long vowels, including the aforementioned two forms of the 'yey' vowel that somehow only count as one, and three short vowels that seem to dance around the letters without ever becoming a connected part of a word. Most of these thirty-eight letters have four written forms or shapes, three of these are the initial, medial and final shapes. They also have an independent shape, but that is never used except for the letters that are known to one and all as 'non-connectors'. There is also, apparently, one letter that is never used at all...but I may have misunderstood that last bit. Confused?...Read on!

We learn the letters in their independent shapes which are never actually used in writing because that would be akin to the printed form of the letters and Urdu is only written in script. It is a visually attractive language, but much more difficult to learn than Cyrillic. The letters and the sounds associated with them are unlike anything I've ever seen or heard. Many of the letters have sounds that are nearly indistinguishable from each other to me. Reciting the letters 'te' and 'Te', 'dal' and 'Dal', 'hay' and 'hey', and 'noon' and 'Noon' still earn me scowls of frustration from Mr. Qasim and an exasperated, "Once again, Mr. Larry, once again!", and don't get me started on the four 'S' letters which are totally unique, individual and distinct from each other yet are all pronounced exactly the same way! There are also at least two of the famous, "I'm not clearing my throat, I'm talking to you!" letters which are much more difficult to pronounce correctly than you'd ever guess. I've never felt as much sympathy for Eliza Doolittle as I do now.

An additional problem is that Urdu is a very rich language, a language of poets, and each letter and word must be pronounced correctly or the meaning of the sentence can be subtly changed. I'm about as subtle as a jackhammer and Urdu poets everywhere roll over in their graves each time I open my mouth. There are only three of us taking the Early Morning Urdu class and we have all been assigned to Islamabad. Lisa and I were in A-100 together, while John is heading there as his third or fourth tour. We'll have eighteen weeks of daily one hour classes then they'll both leave for Pakistan. I'll stay here for the summer, go through a whole smorgasbord of training, and finish up in September and October with six weeks of 'eight hours a day' Urdu. Asallamo alaikum!

Between the end of Early Morning Urdu in July and beginning FAST Urdu in September I can use the language labs and library at FSI to maintain the finely developed skills I'm honing right now. When I get to post, I should have an opportunity to improve further because I'll be working primarily with our Pakistani employees. Of course, my plan in Bulgaria was to speak only Bulgarian with my colleagues every day and that only lasted until we'd exchanged greetings in the morning and then we barrelled along in English the rest of the day. I'm pretty sure that our employees in the embassy also speak English so I've got to be more determined this time. My plan is to only speak Urdu and if they insist on switching to English, I'll answer them in Bulgarian!


This is a picture of me after studying Urdu for fifteen minutes without a break.

Status in Peace Corps was often determined by how rough your living conditions were and the size of the parasites that you acquired in your country. At the Foreign Service Institute, status is at least partially determined by the language you're studying and Urdu ranks right up there with Arabic and Chinese for top of the heap honors. But it isn't the only thing I'm doing by a long shot.

Next week I have a Gap Week. That's a planned break in my training schedule to allow me to take care of the myriad administrative tasks that have to be completed prior to my departure. I need to check in with the Medical people to set up my shots and vaccinations, touch base with the Travel Desk to make tentative flight reservations, begin the paperwork to acquire my Diplomatic Passport and Pakistani visa, meet with my Human Resources officer to ensure that my orders are cut in a timely fashion and talk to the Shipping folks to help make a decision about whether or not to bring the Volvo to Pakistan. I'll also be able to spend a lot of time at the Main State building in Washington researching Pakistan, our embassy in Islamabad and the job I'll be doing there. Of course, Early Morning Urdu will press right along during the Gap Week. From Urdu there is no respite. The truth is that I am really excited about having the opportunity to learn this language. One hundred and fifty million Pakistanis and nearly one billion Indians speak one or another form of the language and I'm determined to understand it when they say to each other, "Let's see if we can get this guy to eat these bugs by telling him they're clumps of fried rice!"

Urdu Is A 'Superhard' Language

At noon on Friday I became a fully commissioned officer in the United States Foreign Service. Undersecretary Nicholas Burns, the number three person in the Department of State after Rice and Negroponte, issued the oath of office to the 133rd class of Foreign Service Officers in the Benjamin Franklin Room on the eighth floor of the State Department building. Interestingly enough, the oath we give is the same oath used to swear in the president. We are sworn to support and defend the constitution of the United States and are now proud members of America's diplomatic corps. As our instructors constantly drill into us, when we're abroad the headlines will always begin, "U.S. Diplomat, Larry Gemmell, was found wandering the streets of Kafiristan in a state of bewilderment, wearing a small yellow hat and leading an obviously embarrassed pig on a leash". The message, of course, is that we will be identified first and foremost as U.S. Diplomats, as if me waving my Dip Passport around and screaming, "I have immunity, I have immunity!", would leave any doubt.

The photo of me at the podium is just an illustration of what I'd look like if I were the Secretary of State. The picture has been artfully cropped to exclude the two security gorillas closing in on me from either side. Subsequent photos, if they had been taken, would have shown 'U.S. Diplomat, Larry Gemmell' being dragged unceremoniously off the podium and sent in chastised shame back to his seat.



On Thursday we wrapped up the Orientation phase of our training, turned in our State Department laptops and said goodbye to the Orientation staff. For seven weeks we've been a group, chugging along together like a team but when the Swearing-in Ceremony ended today, we had just finished the last group activity in which the 133rd will ever participate. From the moment we were given our first assignments, we've all become pretty focused on our own futures and pretty anxious to get on with them. Each of us has an individually tailored training schedule designed to provide us with the tools to succeed at our first overseas posting. On Monday, for example, I begin Area Studies Asia. This is an examination of the history, culture, people and problems in that region of the world. In the coming months I'll also get job-specific courses necessary to perform the duties of a General Services Officer such as Acquisitions, Logistics, Real Estate and Contracts. I'm also scheduled for Duty Officer training, Emergency Medical training and a couple of FS computer courses. Towards the end of my training program I'll receive a security course that's mandatory for personnel headed to Iraq, Afghanistan or Pakistan and is known fondly around the State Department as the "Crash & Bang" course. And then I'll begin to study Urdu.

The Foreign Service Institute (FSI) has the finest language training program in the world. It is mandated by law that all Foreign Service Officers must demonstrate proficiency in at least one foreign language to receive tenure. The FSI has created a standardized test to determine one's ability to speak, read and understand any language in the world. The test takes about two hours and consists of speaking with a native speaker and reading several texts in the language of choice. I took the test on Wednesday in Bulgarian and found it to be a very interesting experience. By 'interesting' I mean, of course, excruciatingly painful, demeaning and degrading. The Native Speaker and I failed to achieve any semblance of rapport and, apparently, failed to communicate on any level which surprised me because I thought we were actually having a conversation at one point. I may have, inadvertently, chosen an inappropriate word or two during the question and answer part of the test. My clue that this may have happened was the look of shock, horror and disgust I got from the NS and her immediate refusal to speak another word to me. Lack of communication proved to be somewhat of a handicap when it came to scoring my efforts in the verbal part of the test. I also failed to achieve any meaningful connection with the written portion of the test, although I did have more rapport with the pieces of paper than with the NS. So, after two and one half years of Peace Corps language classes, private tutors and struggling along in the country, I scored a 1/1 on my Bulgarian test. In order to come off of language probation and qualify for tenure, I needed a 2/2.

My colleague, Denise Shen, took her test in Mandarin the same day and we met in the cafeteria to commiserate. I was still sulking and told her that I'd only scored a 1/1 and she said that she'd only scored a 1+/1 on her test. "Yes," I said, "but I spent two and one half years in Bulgaria."

"Larry," she said, "I'm Chinese!"

It's nice to have friends who can cheer you up.

The FSI divides the languages of the world into categories. Languages that are easier than others to learn are called, diplomatically, World Languages. I guess it would be insulting to some countries to say that their language is 'easy'. French and Spanish are a couple of World Languages and while the French seem proud of their reputation for being 'easy', their language is not. In order to come off of language probation in a World Language you have to score a 3/3. I can assure you that there are Spaniards and Frenchmen who don't speak or read their own languages at a 3/3 level. The next group up is the 'hard' languages. Bulgarian is a hard language, as are Russian, Polish and Czech. The qualifying level for 'hard' languages is a 2/2. That's a 2 in speaking and a 2 in reading.

The final group of languages are the 'superhard' languages. Chinese, Arabic and Urdu are examples of 'superhard' languages. Yes, Urdu. The bar on 'superhard' languages is lowered to 2/1. The full language course for Urdu runs about 44 weeks. I get a six week course to familiarize me with the language and then a year of working with our Pakistani employees at the embassy to hone my skills. How tough can it be? One hundred fifty million Pakistanis, some of them quite small children, speak Urdu effortlessly. So my plan will be to speak only Urdu every day while I'm engaging in facilities and motorpool management. Because the traffic in Islamabad is reputed to be among the worst in the world as far as observance of any of the rules of the road is concerned, I'm sure to learn a colorful phrase or two and this time I intend to fully commit them to memory so they don't suddenly pop out during an FSI language test.

Now that I know that I'll be at the FSI until late October or early November, I'll begin to look around for a more permanent apartment to rent. The weather is getting nicer and I want to spend a lot more time on the weekends exploring Washington, DC. I have six months to get to know the city and complete all my training. Then I'll be off to an incredibly interesting and exotic part of the world where I can, hopefully, make a contribution of some kind.

A final word on Diplomatic Immunity, as one of our instructors put it, "If you find yourself in a situation where you're wondering if your diplomatic immunity will cover you, you're already somewhere you should never have gone."




The gentleman in the photo with me is Ambassador Harry Thomas, a senior official in the State Department who spends his mornings briefing Condoleeza Rice and his afternoons being, among other things, our class mentor.

Geneva!!!

...is not where I'm going. However, one of my colleagues is going there and I'm really happy for him. Anyway, today was Flag Day, the day we all received our first assignments. The day's second event very early this morning was a meeting on the Hill. That's Congress for those of you who aren't familiar with Washington DC. The first event was actually breakfast at Annie's house. She is one of my colleagues who lives in DC and she invited the other forty-three of us over for breakfast since she lives just a block or two from the Capitol Building. She deserves a medal for hosting forty-three donut eating, mimosa drinking, coffee swilling entry level Foreign Service Officers with topics of conversation that ranged from ... "Where do you think you're going?" ... all the way to ... "I hope I get sent to (insert country of choice)".

After breakfast we marched over to the Rayburn Building for our meeting and listened to three pretty good speakers describe the current relationship between the State Department and Congress. It boils down to this; 'we do foreign policy, they hold the purse strings. However, sometimes they want to do foreign policy and they still control the purse strings'. Part of our jobs, especially as entry level officers, will be the care and handling of CoDels or Congressional Delegations. Surprisingly enough it seems that it will be every bit as damaging to our careers to lose the Speaker of the House's luggage as it would be to lose the President's. Who knew? It's ironic that I, who worked in the airline industry for many years and know from experience that there are only two types of baggage..carry-on and lost, will now be responsible for ensuring that senior government officials don't have to buy an emergency tube of toothpaste from the nearest 7-11 or borrow underwear from the entry level officer closest to them in size.

After our meeting on the Hill, we had a couple of free hours to ramp up the stress levels before our Flag ceremony. I ran home to my computer to see if I could pick up a new pitcher for my fantasy baseball team, but others just wasted this free time. Then, at 3:00 o'clock we gathered at the Field House at the campus and the festivities began. All the senior officials from the Foreign Service Institute were there and with much ceremony they carried in a table with the flags of forty-four countries stuck into little stands. The head of the Career Development Officers pulled each flag out in turn, we shouted out the country and then he announced the lucky student's name. In several cases there was more than one job being filled at the same post so he stated the job and then the student's name.

It may interest you to know that the flag of Pakistan is green and white with a crescent and a star on it and while he was able to pronounce Islamabad perfectly Dean sort of slurred his way through my name and Larry isn't all that difficult to say. So, I'm going to Islamabad, not Geneva. They are alike in many ways apart from Geneva being in Switzerland and Islamabad being in Pakistan and the Swiss speak French and German and the Pakistanis speak that other world language, Urdu and the Swiss have a history remaining neutral and the Pakistanis ... don't.

Fortunately for me, I much prefer the Islamabad position. The truth is that I couldn't be happier with my posting and the competition for this job was pretty serious. I'll be in training in Washington until the end of October and then I'll leave for Islamabad to begin work around the beginning of November. I'll be the GSO or General Services Officer at our embassy. This position is an administrative one rather than a political job. I won't be involved with political, economic or consular affairs, I'll be working to keep the facilities and infrastructure trouble-free. Ironic again, isn't it, that I, who has been known to drive in a screw with a hammer because it was faster, will now be responsible for the maintenance and care of hundreds of millions of dollars worth of government property?

Orientation ends next Friday and then we'll begin the second phase of our training and then we'll depart for our posts. I for one am already practicing saying, "I'm sorry Mr. President, your baggage seems to be on a camel headed for Karachi. I've got a pair of undershorts here you can use if you'll just hold this screw for me while I hammer it in?"

Tomorrow

While our ceremonial swearing-in day is probably the most significant event of the entire seven week orientation program, it is still an afterthought to tomorrow. Tomorrow has occupied our thoughts and conversations every single day since Day One. On Day One we were sworn into the Foreign Service (so we could be entered onto the payroll), herded like lost lambs to our classroom and home for the next seven weeks, plunked into pre-assigned seats and handed our initial stacks of paperwork.

Then we were given our 'bidlist' and the most interesting thing in the world became that piece of white paper. Printed on it were approximately fifty Foreign Service positions located everywhere from Abuja to Sao Paulo. We spent the next week or so obsessing over the list and learning how to construct meaningful bids. Although our first two tours will be 'directed' or assigned tours, we were still given quite a bit of input on where we'd like to go or which job we'd prefer to do. Each of us was also given a private session with a Career Development Officer to make a case for our selections.

So, for the past six and one half weeks amid lessons on Public Diplomacy, Diplomatic History and Privileges and Immunity, we all found time to put together our own list of where each of us is certain to be going. Two of the women in the class are married to Foreign Service Officers and actually do know that they are going to Amman and Phnom Penh. The rest of us are using deductive reasoning and absolutely baseless wishing to try to convince each other that we can only be going to.....somewhere we want.

For the past six weeks, no matter where a conversation began, it always ended up in the same place...so, where do you think you'll go? Finding out where we're being sent isn't the only thing we'll learn at Flag Day tomorrow. Along with our first post, we'll be given our training schedule and can finally make some plans for after Orientation. Members of the 133rd A-100 will begin leaving for their posts as early as June and as late as next March. The job and language training required will determine the schedule.

So, tomorrow we'll assemble in the Field House and be called up one by one to be handed a flag from the country of our first post. I'm hoping for a post with a huge pay differential, a very light workload, and great living conditions, near a beautiful beach. Do we have an embassy in Maui?