In my Foreign Service experience so far, overseas tours can be divided into three parts. During the first third, you are focused on settling in, waiting for your shipments to arrive, setting up your household, and adjusting to your work and surroundings. During the second third, you still have a learning curve, but feel more or less competent at navigating your personal and professional environments. You have friends, routine, and all your favorite places. This is the sweet spot. You aren’t moving, and the outcome of any bidding does not seem totally real…yet. You feel (gasp) ‘at home!’ And then comes the final third, when you have received your onward assignment. You must then balance what you have remaining to accomplish in-country with what you need to arrange moving forward. Ladies and gentlemen, we are rapidly approaching that final third.
I remember the afternoon in August 2014 that I got my flag for Uzbekistan, surrounded by my cheering A-100 colleagues. And I also remember the hot summer evening in June 2016 when I received my second tour assignment to Australia and stood bolt upright in my Uzbek wallpapered living room.
And very early this morning, I had that moment again. I checked my work BlackBerry and saw an email with the subject line “Handshake.” I actually waited almost 30 seconds to click on it, fumbling for my glasses and barely breathing.
On October 19, the day that bids were due, I hedged my bets by adding one more job to my bidlist. So the final tally on the list I submitted was 11 jobs in nine countries. Since a mid-level consular bidlist with four to six bids is apparently a safe bet, I thought I had given decision-makers plenty of options to work with. But October 29, the unthinkable happened: Handshake Day came and went without a handshake for me.
As the end of the Foreign Service bidding cycle came to a close, all of the waiting and ambiguity I thought would end upon that long hoped-for handshake instead deepened into more waiting, frustration, bureaucratic entanglements, and medical clearance issues. I am working on it and hopefully will be able to announce our onward assignment in the coming weeks. In the meantime, the feeling of getting very close to a good outcome, only to keep getting further away while jumping over unexpected obstacles in my path has been dogging me. Someday I will tell that story.
Today, I’ll tell a different story in the same vein, about a day in March 2003 during my first couple of months as a Peace Corps Volunteer in the Republic of Macedonia. Originally entitled, “All For a List,” I wrote this piece about trying so hard to do something simple and being foiled, and foiled, and foiled some more. I silently raged against the machine, I almost lost patience, I almost let it get my goat. When the most straightforward situations devolve into total clown shows, it is the ability to laugh when you want to cry that keeps you resilient. I meet much bigger challenges more easily now, but for me that day in 2003 still marks how far I’ve since come in learning patience, thinking on my feet, and innovating on the fly. It is a snapshot in time of learning to build resiliency, and finding the calmest path to the destination you want. Don’t miss the scenery along the way!
The Summer 2019 bid cycle officially ends tomorrow! That means that bidders are finalizing and submitting their bid lists, and hoping that all their lobbying and interviewing pays off with a great onward diplomatic tour assignment. In less than two weeks, handshakes start, and no one wants to be left without a job when the music stops.
By the time you’re halfway through your second tour, third tour bidding goes from an abstract concept to very applicable. The end of first and second tour “directed assignments” means the beginning of your own advocacy to get your next Foreign Service position. What was previously in the hands of your Career Development Officer (CDO) is now your process to manage. No more percentages of high, medium, and low bids like in A-100. No more justifying your top 30 ranked jobs like in second tour bidding. Now you hunt for a handful of jobs, and go after them.
That’s right: Third tour bidding means a lot more than sending in a list and waiting anxiously for Flag Day or an assignment email. Identifying projected vacancies, reaching out to incumbents, and lobbying decision-makers is now your responsibility. You may be thrilled to get the “permission to persuade,” or you may be a little freaked. But regardless, boldly forward – an entry level officer has been tapped to take your place, and it’s up or out you go.
In this first of a short series about third tour bidding, I will talk about how I’ve prepared, why it can be a little intimidating for first-timers, and what we’re crossing our fingers for.
I wasn’t wearing a suit. No one called me to the front of an auditorium and handed me a flag to wild applause. Second tour assignments arrive via email, with little fanfare. Mine hit my inbox last night while I was wearing pajamas and sitting half asleep in an armchair watching the Armed Forces Network.
It’s nerve-wracking, it’s exciting, and the outcome will determine most of your life for the next 2-3 years. It’s… second tour bidding.
It’s Flag Day Eve. Yes, as anyone who has entered the Foreign Service knows, that’s a thing.
Tomorrow at 15:30 EDT, in front of friends, family, and classmates, each member of the 178th Generalist Class of new diplomats will be called one by one to the front of a large room and handed a flag, and a folder containing a training schedule. The flag will be that of the country where we will serve our first overseas assignment, and the training schedule will tell us whether we’re going to post in a matter of several weeks, next summer, or anytime in between.
It’s very cliche of me to start this post by saying that it’s hard to believe I’m already halfway through A-100, and yet it’s the absolute truth – both that it’s hard for me to believe, and that as of a couple of days ago, we’re only three weeks from our Swearing-In! I can totally see why new Foreign Service Officers often drop the ball on blogging during these very intense weeks of formality, responsibilities and hours of nightly homework. When I come home, the last thing I usually want to do is turn on my laptop to blog, even though I like doing it once I get into it.
My first week of orientation into the Foreign Service has already passed in a blur of exhilaration, jitters, gratitude, lack of coffee, heightened emotion and general overwhelm.