My truck-versus-pedestrian accident was 10.5 weeks ago — almost two and a half months. One of the most difficult aspects of my recovery, aside from the physical injuries themselves, has been holding space for very different, simultaneous thoughts and feelings about what happened and how to move forward.
Tag: Gratitude
Flag Day Announcement… VI
Last week, I received the exciting news I had been anticipating since last September when sixth tour bidding opened for me: the title, location, and timing of my next diplomatic assignment.
Postcard from Singapore
A couple of weeks ago, I began 2026 with a work-related trip to Singapore to attend a consular leadership development course called the CLDC—it was my first CLDC and my first time ever in the country. It was also the first time since returning home to Burma from the hospital in Bangkok in December that I had traveled anywhere on my own; it felt not only like an exciting professional opportunity, but also a chance to road-test my healing body.
So Glad You’re OK
I came home to Burma the Friday before Christmas and stepped back into my Rangoon life from the before times. Only I didn’t look the same on the outside, and I didn’t feel the same on the inside either. I had been medically evacuated and hospitalized in Thailand for over a month after being unexpectedly hit by a truck while crossing the street in front of my house. I’d broken my pelvis in three places, along with cracking two ribs, breaking a toe, and suffering a bilateral concussion and extensive road rash.
My traumatic injuries were still healing when I returned, and I was only 50% weight-bearing on my left side. Returning to my house and my work, nothing fit quite the same—it was like trying on someone else’s clothes. I had to contend with other people’s reactions to my visible injuries and the shock of what had happened to me, while sorting out my own feelings and struggling with my new limitations in real time. And as I settled back into post and the external cuts, wounds, and bruises slowly began to fade, I heard one thing over and over again: “I’m so glad you’re OK.”
Ableism and Access: Return to Burma
About 10 days ago I returned home to Burma. I’d spent a month hospitalized in Thailand after being hit by a truck while crossing the street in mid-November.
While I was in the hospital, I wanted nothing more than to come home and “get back to normal.” But the two days I spent in a hotel between my discharge and my return home illustrated how difficult navigating the real world would be as long as I could only bear about 15 kg of weight on my left leg. Most able-bodied people simply never notice the ways in which the world is inaccessible to those who move through it a bit differently.
Release
Four and a half weeks after my accident, I was discharged from the hospital. That was one week ago. After being released, I spent a couple nights in Bangkok on my own, flew back to Burma, and returned to work.
Sixth Tour Bidding: Showing Up
When the U.S. government closed for more than six weeks this autumn, it completely blew up the Foreign Service bid-season timeline for summer 2026 bidders. Summer 2026 bidders are those of us completing our assignments next summer who need an onward. Our bid cycle was meant to begin at the end of September 2025, with bids due in October and handshakes coming out in November.
But as the shutdown dragged on through October and into November without appropriations, bidding—an activity not deemed “excepted”—was at a full stop. Posts and bureaus weren’t permitted to interview candidates, and bidders couldn’t express interest in projected vacancies. In an attempt to create parity between excepted employees who were working without pay and non-excepted employees who had been furloughed and weren’t allowed to sign on during the lapse, the organization even took the portal used for most bidding activities offline, cutting off bidders’ visibility on capsule descriptions for open assignments.
Aftermath
Coming home from the embassy that Sunday morning after my accident ushered in not only new levels of physical pain, but a lingering stretch of complicated, disorienting emotional terrain.
The World’s Your Oyster, Part II
In the fall of 2016 while I was serving in Tashkent, I took a quick trip by myself to Bangkok for dental care. Nine years later, we found ourselves serving just an hour’s flight away, so we decided to visit — me for the second time and V for the first time. There’s nothing like a weekend in a new location to change the scene — and your perspective.
Celebrating Thadingyut (သီတင်းကျွတ်ပွဲတော်)
Last weekend marked Burma’s sacred holiday of the Full Moon of Thadingyut (pronounced like tha-TIN-jut). The date of Thadingyut varies each year because it follows the traditional Burmese lunar calendar, which is based on moon cycles. Usually Thadingyut falls in October, but it can also occur in late September.
We had a three-day weekend in honor of the occasion. While most local people celebrated by visiting family around Burma and observing Buddhist traditions of thanksgiving, I took the opportunity to relax. I had a nail appointment, spent several hours swimming, and caught up with friends throughout the weekend — a Friday evening out at a new American-style 1950s diner; fabric shopping on Saturday afternoon with colleagues to commission a Burmese dress set, followed by an embassy Oktoberfest gathering that evening; and a Monday afternoon luncheon hosted by our neighbors next door. But the most special part of the weekend for me and V was finally visiting Shwedagon Pagoda, Rangoon’s golden temple, on Sunday evening.
A World Away
At my most recent pedicure, I chose a deep cranberry shade—even though my toes still spend most weekends poolside or in strappy sandals. The signs of autumn flooding my social media feeds and podcast ads from home feel distant here in Burma, where my tan is still going strong. There are no cardigans, pumpkin spice lattes, or even jeans for me. I’ve worn a long-sleeved shirt only once since arriving in Rangoon. But if I close my eyes, I can almost smell the fall leaves of Virginia and the crisp evening air tinged with woodsmoke a world away.
Sixth Tour Bidding: Ready or Not
It seems too soon to bid for my next assignment. I’ve been in Rangoon less than two months. Neither our HHE nor our consumables have arrived. We haven’t even bought a plant for our new house, which we just moved into a few weeks ago. And yet, unbelievably, I’m already almost one-sixth done with this tour. Ready or not, the next bid season started yesterday!
Diamonds in the Rough
In this assignment —my fifth— I find myself surrounded by so many diamonds that it can be hard to spot the rough beneath them. Yet the rough is always there, sometimes hitting harder than expected—especially when you’ve been focused on the sparkle.
Intangibles
When we move overseas and I begin a new posting, it’s hard to convey just how completely my life changes—let alone to describe what those changes look like. My social media may offer glimpses of where I’ve landed: snapshots of a far-flung place, unfamiliar foods, and me appearing happy and at ease among a group of strangers.
Yet curating outward appearances can give the impression of being in a kind of faux-vacation mode, masking the reality of what it means to settle into daily life in a new country. A picture can be a worth a thousand words and still not fully capture how radically everything has shifted—from your commute to your surroundings to your diet. From the outside, it might look entirely positive, or, depending on one’s perspective, overwhelmingly negative. Lately, I’ve been trying to find a way to write that describes the intangibles of this period—so that I can more accurately depict life here from afar.
There’s a Gecko in My Curtains… and Assorted Thoughts on Settling In
Shortly before we arrived in Rangoon, we were a little disappointed to learn we would be in temporary housing for approximately four to six weeks. Although we had known for a long time that the housing board had assigned us a house near the embassy, our short-term home would be an apartment.
Our disappointment stemmed mainly from wanting to settle into this tour as quickly as possible — a feeling tied to the idea of setting up our own home. We had not expected such a lengthy make-ready of our house; the previous occupant departed over three weeks before we arrived. Yet, this isn’t totally uncommon during the busy PCS season when the embassy has many officers moving in and out simultaneously.
Since this is the first time we’ve done a one-year tour, each week represents a surprising 1.92% of our total time in Burma. Spending up to one-tenth of such a short assignment in temporary housing felt less than ideal. But as it turns out, the experience has had its benefits as well.
Collecting Postcards 