The LA Times posted an article today about the extreme under-representation of black folks in our country's top diplomatic posts. The article notes that of the 32 diplomats heading embassies and other U.S. missions in Europe, only one, John L. Withers, the ambassador to Albania, was black. Withers is leaving his post later this year, leaving a total of ZERO. There were also zero African Americans among the 10 ambassadors or chiefs of mission in South and Central Asia, or the 18 in the Near East, and only one among the 17 in East Asia. The only place where black diplomats headed missions? Africa, of course (note the extreme sarcasm)! 11 of the 37 missions in Africa were headed by African Americans. I'd also be interested in finding statistics about the representation of other people of color in top embassy posts...
I am loving Muay Thai! There seems to be nothing better to finally see those stubborn couple of pounds begin to budge than this fun and challenging self defense art. The best part is learning to take a little punching and kicking (with the help of a pad). Truthfully, it's terrifying, but I'm hoping it will pay off in some capacity of getting stronger and tougher.
Unfortunately, like an idiot, I attended class on Sunday night just 5 days after my Moony tribute tattoo was hammered in. Nearly half of it was eroded open by the end of two hours of punching and getting punched...sigh. We'll just have to wait and see how that turns out.
Last night, which is not too different from most nights, Cyn launched into teaching some boxing technique. This particular skill, however, was quite a performance, including a sort of skipping motion with alternating high knees, complete with instructions of how to knee an opponent in the groin. I asked if the running man was really something that boxers use to hurt someone.
"Huh?" she replied, "of course you can hurt someone with a knee strike!"
I have definitely found my sport - my rendition of the running man has already hurt many people. Rivaled only perhaps by this guy:
A chilling reminder of what we may be getting ourselves into.
Both the New York Times and NPR have covered the story.
I am also digging this song:
After refusing to go to muay thai class with Cyn who has been begging me for almost one solid year, I finally donned some sweaty wraps and gloves and joined her last night. The teacher is considered master status and can apparently swing moves like Sayid from LOST and break a dude's neck with his bare ankles. Terrifying, right? Wrong! His name is Kenya, he's a refugee from Cambodia, and he giggles even more than Cynthia and me put together.
I'm very excited to join the ranks and follow suit. I'm going to buy my own wraps and gloves now.
As I posted about previously, we made the decision to give our dog Moony away before joining the Foreign Service. Last night I had a dream that I was yelling at Moony's new mom. She was trying to force me to pay his newly accrued vet bills and I was getting upset explaining how that is definitely now something that falls under her jurisdiction now blah blah blah. What could this all mean? Hmmmmm maybe I want my dog back? ya think?
Also yesterday I sent many packages to many people and somehow managed to make it the most stressful thing I've done in weeks. How is that even possible? The very patient and understanding woman behind the counter actually asked me if this was the first time I ever mailed anything (did I mention that people seem to think I'm a lot younger with bangs?). I didn't have the heart courage to tell her that yes, in fact I had, and I definitely wasn't advertising that my very own father is a retired USPS carrier.
Taking Moony to Muir Beach:
"Culture Shock characterizes an emotional disorientation, caused by continuously unexpected reactions from the new culture. Culture shock can manifest in: anxiety; sadness; depression; migraines; burn out; reduced energy levels; new and/or increased tensions and sometimes aggression in the family; isolation and more." (taken from http://expatwomen.com/general/culture_shock_ines_hofmann.php I don't think they'll mind)
I plan to wholeheartedly go through each of the common stages: Stage One: Honeymoon Period; Stage Two: Crisis Period; Stage Three: Adaptation Period; Stage Four: Stabilization Period. I'm sure there will be tears, tantrums, periods of elation, sadistic declarations, and eventually contentment.
In hopes of not driving my loved ones too insane, I've started a list of things I would like to learn and do should this roller coaster start careening out of control.
* obtain a BS
* hopefully get a Physicians Assistance certificate
* ESL certification
* cooking/baking
* pottery
* martial arts/self defense (I'm starting Muay Thai Kickboxing this week)
* join sports teams
* guitar/piano/other instruments
* canning/fermenting foods
* learn local cooking techniques
* brew beer/make wine
* photography
* study history and geography - esp locally
* get better at public speaking
* be more spontaneous and simultaneously more organized
* travel, travel, travel
* meditate
* write things I'm grateful for every evening (I will try to begin this tonight)
In more fun news, we are making a list of all the things we want to do/see before we move away from this lovely, lovely City and it's even more enchanting surroundings. Some that made the cut include: Tahoe, The Grand Canyon, Vancouver BC, and San Luis Obispo. OK so maybe a few of these aren't really proximal but they'll probably feel that way once we are in South Africa. I will keep you apprised of those upcoming adventures.
We started this blog for 3 primary purposes:
1) to establish a venue for our friends and family to see what we're up to and learn about our lives;
2) to share about the foreign service experience generally and provide more information for persons interested in becoming foreign service officers - particularly for candidates who are under-represented in the profession, such as women of color and queer folks;
3) to repay other FSO bloggers, who illuminated the experience for us as we were still researching about this as a career option.
(cyn's new boss-to-be)Eva has a subpurpose:
1) to keep her sanity lest we get posted in a remote, overly sleepy location
The absolute hardest thing about Cynthia passing the Foreign Service exam (btw she is the smartest person I have ever known and I am so proud to be her wife) was making the decision to find a new home for my beloved dog.
He will always be my dog too, just so you know.
Although pets are allowed in the Foreign Service (hell, up until 6 months ago Moony would have had more rights than me as a same-sex spouse - thanks, Hillary!) I finally made the horribly depressing decision that my sensitive little guy would never survive the rigors that are grueling plane rides in the luggage compartment, potential and likely quarantines, frequent moves, unpredictable days, traveling, etc. Soooo an entire evening crying and a two foot high mountain of used tissues later, I caved.
Cyn found the family on Craigslist and I began corresponding with the mom. They have two little, sweet, active girls and a beautiful home in posh Los Altos Hills with horse trails for days and perhaps most importantly, incredibly patient adults. Moony took to the family immediately while I got myself the hell out of there as quickly as possible. I would have made it without any waterworks too if the mom hadn't hugged me. It was like slow motion: *arms opening into position, coming my way, enveloping me* nooooooooo...bam! tears.
The mom promised to send me monthly updates, rife with photos and stories. Don't worry, this isn't the last you'll hear of mr moony mcgee. Family portrait of the 3 of us:
