Last week and the week before, I was struggling with burnout in Burmese class while also trying to focus on preparing for our upcoming move overseas. Now that we’ve entered the final stretch—with only single-digit weeks remaining in the program—two acronyms have begun to loom larger: the EOT (End of Training) test and our PCS (Permanent Change of Station) move.
A Lot of Talk
In Burmese class, we are now consolidating all the vocabulary and grammatical structures we’ve learned over the past eight months.

Between now and early July, we’ll focus on finalizing and ‘spiraling up’ our talking points on a range of topics—such as economic policy, foreign relations, and social issues—in order to improve our fluency and flexibility when discussing them.
For me, this is a particularly difficult period of study. I don’t love extemporaneous speaking in any language, let alone in a performative context. Pretending to be an expert in some of these topics feels slightly inauthentic and self-aggrandizing to me, particularly when the topics have nothing to do with my future work.
I kind of dread having a few minutes to prepare a speech on some topic, and spend half the time feeling dumb and doubting what I’m about to say (even in English). I try to make it fun and make it an experiment to take any pressure off (“Let’s see what I can do with what I have so far.”) Most of the time I surprise myself with being able to do something, even if not to the extent or level I’d like.
But I’d still rather play a vocabulary game or learn something new than be put on the spot to produce a polished speech at a professional level of discourse. I know some people love sitting around and trying out their language skills and have a lot to say. I guess I just find it draining despite having fun with it as much as I can.
I’d also much rather spend the next couple of months learning to discuss consular-related topics in Burmese, such as visa interviews or assisting U.S. citizens in distress. It would be so practical and helpful. But the availability and quality of cone-specific curricula also vary widely across language programs.
Additionally, FSI instructors tend to ‘teach to the test,’ and as I’ve said, in my opinion, there can be a frustrating divergence between topics you need to know to “pass” the test and the everyday language needs of your future work.

This was made especially clear to me in 2015, when I passed Russian with flying colors and could discuss topics like nuclear nonproliferation and trade policy—subjects on which my opinion was never requested in real life—but I didn’t know how to ask essential, everyday questions like, “What’s your purpose of travel?” or “Unfortunately, your visa cannot be approved.”
In any case, these are 30,000-foot-level issues beyond my control. The organization is currently undertaking a school-wide curriculum alignment initiative to better streamline and focus students’ learning experiences. Meanwhile, the structure and format of our evaluation process seems to change every time I’m at FSI.
In the meantime, I’m just trying to play along, be cooperative with the instructors, and do my best each day no matter how mind-bending Burmese vocabulary and syntax is. If I sound cranky, it’s probably just because I’m tired of learning (and then forgetting 10 times) how to intelligently talk about human rights violations and one country attacking another and corruption and trade policy and regional security. Especially hair-raising are the times I literally cannot think of a single thing to say and my mind is blank.
Lately, I’ve also been so physically and mentally exhausted that I struggle to muster the energy and focus needed for effective study. After so many months, I’m yearning to spend my time feeling competent at something again.

In Theory, We’re Moving to Burma
On the PCS front, a few very important things also happened during this period that made the concept of moving to Burma shift from abstract to a little more real.
First, the embassy informed me that it will soon share a decision on our housing assignment. Whether we’ll be living in an apartment or a house has been a key question for us since successfully bidding on Rangoon in 2023.
In some ways, where we live matters less than it normally would, since we’ll only be at Post for one year. Still, being able to visualize our future housing and its attendant commute and amenities access helps make the fuzzy more defined—and imagining our life outside of work is an important part of mentally preparing for this transition.
Second, although we haven’t yet been assigned a social sponsor, I’ve been able to gather a lot of helpful information from future colleagues—particularly about which consumables aren’t available in Rangoon and should be included in our shipment from the United States.
And third, after weeks of futzing around with technical and policy questions that delayed me finishing my TMTWO (request for orders), I finally submitted it late last week.
Although building out the request involves using a clunky system that looks like it’s straight out of 1994, the exercise forces you to map out every day between the end of language training and your arrival at Post.
In my case, I had to create an itinerary that included a bit of onward training and consultations after Burmese ends in July. I then calculated how many days we’d need for packout, followed by the time it would take me to drive to the west coast to drop off my car at my dad’s house for the year. There was also a section to note we would be traveling with a pet, and to request different entitlements for shipping and storage to deal with our various categories of household effects.
The thing that was most difficult in moving this across the finish line was ascertaining what I could request and how; the technical component of the task assumes one is a master of the policy that underpins it. Alas, having only done a few TMTWOs in the last decade, I am not.
But after I clicked submit and received a confirmation the Department had received my request, I felt a weight lifted off my shoulders that made me wish I would have submitted it long ago. Now I can say with much more fidelity that I have a plan to depart, and this is how it will work logistically overlaid with a July calendar.
I still don’t have my orders—but at least the ball is now out of my court. Receiving orders unlocks the ability to book plane tickets, schedule immunizations, start canceling or transferring accounts, secure a mailbox at Post, and make a range of other logistical decisions.
Somehow, in the current climate, receiving overseas orders—and the financial commitment from the Department that accompanies them—also feels like a form of job security I haven’t experienced (or needed) before in my previous 11 years as an FSO.

I remember reading your announcement back in 2023 and thinking “but 2025 is so far away?!” and now it is suddenly 2025, lol. Fingers crossed for a smooth move.
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