Tag: Hope

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.

Claustrophobia

My accident—the day I was hit by a truck and my life took a hard right turn—was just over three weeks ago. It feels like a lifetime has passed, yet it’s also difficult to believe I’ve already lost so much time. During a one-year tour, each week makes up 1.9% of the assignment. By that math, I’ve already lost 5.8% of my time in Burma (along with post allowances like danger and hardship pay), and the count keeps climbing because of this accident.

Over the 20 days I’ve now spent hospitalized in Thailand, the overall ordeal has felt a bit like Groundhog Day, even as the details of my daily lived experience have shifted subtly over time.

The Land of Smiles

Taking an international flight in a wheelchair is something I never imagined I’d experience. Yet when I arrived in Bangkok a little over two weeks ago, that’s exactly how I traveled—having not taken a single step except for the small ones over the seam between the breezeway and the plane, the only gap the wheelchair couldn’t bridge.

The morning three days after my truck vs. pedestrian accident, motorpool drove me from our house to the airport. An embassy nurse and my husband accompanied. I was pushed in a wheelchair through check-in, immigration, security, and Rangoon’s mostly-empty international departures terminal. I was the second passenger to board the flight, transferred into the tiny, narrow wheelchair that fits down the plane aisle. I settled into a comfortable business-class seat and never got up during the 70-minute flight. When we landed in Bangkok, an ambulance—and finally, answers about my injuries—waited just beyond baggage claim.

Wrong Lane

After more than six weeks of the longest government shutdown in history, things were finally starting to brighten up towards mid-November. After a sudden medevac to Bangkok, my husband V had successful gallbladder removal surgery and returned home to Rangoon. The U.S. government reopened and federal employees received our three missing paychecks in quick succession. The bid season relaunched, sparking renewed excitement about our potential next tour. V and I spent a day off together in observance of a Burmese holiday—swimming in our favorite local pool, then enjoying a quiet evening at home relaxing with our cat. All seemed to be getting back to normal.

Then, the following Saturday night, we had one of the worst nights of our lives—sudden, unexpected, and completely out of the blue. It was the kind of night that shifts your reality, stripping away any illusion that you are in control and leaving you in a world so different from the one you knew just moments before that the surreality comes in continual waves of disbelief.

Sixth Tour Bidding: Not So Fast

When I first wrote about sixth tour bidding in late September, I described it as a “ready or not” situation; bidding had snuck up on me quickly at less than two months into a one-year tour. But just two days after the cycle opened, everything ground to a halt. October 1 marked the start of the new fiscal year, and without an approved federal budget, the government shut down. And so, at least for now, this bid season has become another exercise in “hurry up and wait.”

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!

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.

Cooking Outdoors: Nangyithoke

Our second weekend in Rangoon, we attended a cooking class sponsored by the embassy’s Community Liaison Office (CLO) at a local organic farm. We were excited for a chance to learn how to cook Nangyithoke, a Burmese chicken thick noodle salad which originated in Mandalay.

The CLO warned us to bring insect repellant — and for good reason, as it turned out; the farm hosts its cooking classes in a beautiful outdoor kitchen.

Wishing for Halcyon Days

In late July, after leaving Virginia and driving almost 2,800 miles by myself, I arrived in California. I think my friends and family used to be in disbelief when in 2022 I first started driving across the country alone to see them, but now my wild stunts have become almost expected.

My original plan had been to drive directly to the home of my nana in the San Francisco Bay Area. But when I’d looked at my route, I’d realized I would drive right by my mom’s in the Sierra Nevada Foothills on the way there. It made sense to stop at my mom’s to avoid arriving at my nana’s—about three hours farther away—at night. I got to my mom’s right around dinnertime, just as I’d planned.

A Sad Day for Diplomacy

Friday was a mixed bag of emotions for me. On one hand, I was happily celebrating the successful end of 10 months of Burmese study. I was busy running errands around town, completing lab work, seeing my doctor to fill prescriptions before moving to Burma, using the official pouch to save my precious suitcase space and advance work-related materials to myself in Rangoon, and driving my husband V to his urgent dental surgery.

But on the other hand, as V and I were making every effort to deconstruct our lives in the United States and prepare to move ourselves and all our stuff on overseas government orders, we were paradoxically also both monitoring our work emails to see if we were losing our jobs. That’s right, losing our jobs. On Friday, the Department of State fired more than 1,300 U.S.-based employees via email, including almost 250 Foreign Service Officers (FSOs).

The Verdict: Learning Burmese, Week 45

After our 44th and final week of Burmese language class, last week consisted of three days of review. I attended class on Tuesday and Wednesday, but I missed Monday due to a minor dental emergency.

Throughout the week, I was full of nerves and felt my usual dread about taking an End of Training (EOT) test. On Thursday morning, I arrived at FSI early for one last solo review and my final preparations. After 10 months of study, it was finally EOT day.

A Proud Accomplishment: Learning Burmese, Weeks 43-44

Since last September when I began studying Burmese at FSI, I knew the finish line was at week 44. It seemed nearly impossible early on to imagine studying Burmese full-time for 44 weeks. Yet, I have. Imperfectly, but I have. I didn’t study as much as I should have. I missed too many days for health reasons. Maybe I didn’t spend my free time listening to Burmese language podcasts and daydreaming about different ways to say something. I definitely did not master the language in any impressive way.

However, I arrived at the end of the program. I didn’t give up, flame out, or quit, even though I thought about it during several rough patches. I felt dread, discouragement, even disinterest at times – but also elation, hope, and gratitude for the chance to receive training many others went to post lacking, and for the small wins I earned. Despite the curriculum or experience not being exactly what I expected, we are approaching the inevitable time to shift professional gears once more.

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