EFM: Evidence For Moods

If you were reading through the comments in the first part of the leaky ceiling story, the last one on there might have seemed like an overreaction.

In actuality, I'll Take Mine...To Go, Please! was responding to a comment I had left on another blog. To quote Shannon from Cyberbones:

You know that handy little chart that floats around diagramming the stages of acceptance at a new post? If you are not FS it goes something like this: honeymoon, depression, resigned acceptance, happiness. Well I completely skip the honeymoon period everytime.

I added her comment section that my honeymoon period is over and I feel stuck in the depression. (Not to worry, family, that is an overstatement. This is not a call for help.) I also asked for a copy of said schematic. Well, ask and you will receive, which is where I'll Take Mine...To Go, Please! came to the rescue. (And thank you very much for that!)

OK, so first off, how did Natalie spend from September 2009 through June 2010 in A-100 (introduction to the foreign service, essentially) and Federally Supervised Instructions (FSI) without ever receiving a copy of this thing? How did I attend three or four FSI courses and never receive this thing? Sure, learning about how to seat guests at a state dinner is a skill I use everyday, but in hindsight, I wish they offered a course on coping with cultural adaptation instead of etiquette.

So moving across the chart, I didn't really have the pre-departure ups and downs. I wasn't excited about pack-out day or living in a hotel for 10 days, but it had no bearing on my emotional well-being.

I definitely enjoyed an initial honeymoon stage, or as I like to think of it, becoming accustomed to this awesome house - leaky roof aside. But after about a week or so, I began to slip into what the chart refers to as culture shock/acute homesickness. I don't know if those words feel appropriate for what I was actually feeling or not, but you get the picture. The emotional well-being red line dipped.

(Important case study note, in which I'm the case study: The chart, while cool and scientific looking, is a generalization. In my particular case, I think my honeymoon and culture shock stages were more intertwined and instead of a nice smooth curvy line, mine is more jagged with more ups and downs. Even in the culture shock area, there are still good days; it's just that the bad days are a little more intense than bad days back home and a little more frequent.)

So because FSI has failed us all by its lack of cultural adaptation class, I'll offer my four lessons from my own struggles.

1. I wish I would have been more studious in learning Spanish. This is 100% my fault, and I accept the blame, but that isn't helping much right now. I've been using the Stone a bit more (still don't particularly like it), and Spanish class is to commence soon at the Consulate. I hope ironing out this inability-to-communicate wrinkle will make life here better, but I'm not putting all of my eggs in this basket.

2. Speaking of eggs in a single basket, I wish I wasn't so reliant on a single client for my freelance work. The problem with working with this magazine - other than the fact that the editor holds a personal grudge against me - is that both the editor and publisher are lousy communicators and fear confrontations. So are they not responding to my e-mails because they are angry with me, are just being lazy about hitting the respond button, or do they just not want to tell me they think my story ideas suck? Another situation in which I saw the red flags before coming here, but I decided to leave it all to chance that it would work out.

3. I miss my stuff. I'm not really a possessions-oriented person, but I miss my coffee pot, food processor, toaster and/or toaster oven and cookbooks. I also miss our DVD player, DVDs (and VHS tapes) and books. I feel like Steve Martin from The Jerk. "I don't need this or this. Just this ashtray...And this paddle game ... And that's all I need. I don't need one other thing, not one...I need this." (And yes, that is my second movie reference in as many posts.) So I wish we had better planned our air freight.

4. This is the big one - managing expectations. I'd like to say I came here with no expectations. I thought I was coming here with no expectations. But after the first couple of weeks here, I found myself saying to myself, "This is not what I expected," so I must have expected something, right?

I had heard Hermosillo described as a small town within a big city. I really have no idea what that means. But I grew up in a small town. I went to college and had my first jobs in a small town. Hermosillo is not a small town by any stretch of the imagination. In a small town, you can count the number of stoplights on two hands or less. In a small town, there is two or three main roads that go no further than two miles without leaving the city limits. In a small town, you can live anywhere and still walk to what the locals refer to as its downtown.

Hermosillo has almost a million people here (some anticipate that the 2010 census will push past 1 million). Sure, there aren't any skyscrapers like in big U.S. cities, but a small town has like 50,000 people at most, not a million. And it is spread out. There are a couple of downtownish shopping areas, but none in walking distance from where we live. Not that you would want to walk in this heat anyway, but still.

In truth, having seen a few pictures of our home before we arrived, I didn't have high expectations for it, so I was pleasantly surprised when we got here. The few descriptions I had of Hermosillo had me expecting something else, and given my current standing on the emotional well-being line, I guess that wasn't such a pleasant surprise.

But with any luck and some hard work, will be getting the rest of our stuff soon and I'll get a better grasp on Spanish. And maybe the working situation will improve - it seems to ebb and flow. And after some time, I'll get used to this version of a "small town." For starters, just having this chart bumped up my emotional well-being line. It was refreshing to know that this is such a common experience there is a scientific-looking chart to describe it.

Air Freight Nightmares

Before I delve too deep into our lessons learned about packing air freight, let me first call your attention to a new page to EF'M. It has a permanent link in the left column with the disclaimers, but it essentially is a list of hated, and thus replaced, State acronyms and phrases. Instead of typing out "air freight (EF'M no longer recognizes the use of UAB)" every time, I'll just link back to this page.

Moving on, we failed miserably in packing our air freight. Which is doubly embarrassing considering we drove to post meaning we should have had amble space for bringing necessities to Hermosillo.

Part of the problem stems from the fact that we made too many assumptions about the welcome kit. For example, we left behind our toaster and coffee maker thinking those would have to be in a welcome kit. I'm also wishing we would have brought a cookie sheet or two as well become some frozen food just doesn't microwave well.

Alas, we are toaster, coffee and baked goods-less for the next month or so. In fact, our kitchen is quite bare and makes cooking a dreadful, unfulfilling task. I didn't realize how much I love my gadgets and seasonings until I've been asked to cook without them.

"But you guys had 450 pounds and a car load. What did you pack?" you might ask. And a good question. Also by not knowing our welcome kit, we've doubled (and tripled) up on some items. For example, our government-issued bed came with bedding. So did we. Two sets of bedding, actually. But wanting to use government bedding is understandable, I suppose.

The welcome kit also came with towels. So did we. Almost our entire linen closet made it here, actually. This was part of the problem with our pack-out plan. Natalie was in charge of the air freight while I kept an eye on everything else. And we didn't really do a good job of prioritizing our possessions.

That, and Natalie really likes clothes. And she brought everything except her dead-of-winter wardrobe. The good news is that she has her Emmitt Smith Cowboys jersey I haven't seen her wear ever. And at least two bath robes, including the heavy one, which is so necessary in the desert in the summer. She also really likes hangers. I'd estimate that we packed about 30 pounds of hangers. (The welcome kit also had about 20 of those.)

I shouldn't pick on her too much, though, because I probably went a little over board on the clothes as well. I brought all of my dress pants because it is important to be dressed while sweeping sand and doing dishes.

We also had to take care of Tiffy by packing a 50 pound bag of dog food in our air freight even though we were driving with about 30 pounds or so in the car. Better safe than sorry, I suppose, but I highly doubt we'll be opening another 50-pound bag of dog food before our ground/surface/sea freight arrives.

There are a few success stories, however. We had our desktop computer and printer sent in the air freight. For anyone else shipping a printer, it is a good idea to remove the ink cartridges before it is sealed because I guess those tend to leak when jostled about.

I also smuggled one frying pan, spatula and pizza cutter without Natalie knowing. When I told her, she was a bit annoyed, until we started using it. The welcome kit does come with some pots and pans, but I would hate to rely on these for much more than boiling water. They are on the thin side, and I couldn't imagine trying to cook anything like a chicken breast on it because the outside would get crispy well before the inside would be done.

The major lessons learned are this. You don't need nearly as much clothes as you think you do. You'll have a washer and dryer after all. And get to know your welcome kit. I wouldn't ask the post what is in it, because it is a pretty long list. Rather, ask specific questions, such as, "Is there a coffee maker in the welcome kit?" That should not take the people working at the post quite as long to determine.

Good luck to those of you who have pack-out day on the horizon, and please learn from our mistakes.

Internet Withdrawal

So we made it. It is as hot as advertised in Hermosillo.

It's way too early to comment on the city as I've seen very little thus far. Thursday, the day of our arrival, was filled with a long drive south through Mexico, which really didn't look too different than from southern New Mexico and southern Arizona. By the way, the scenery in the southern part of those states can be very pretty - from a distance. Once you are in the middle of the brush, it isn't so attractive. But then you look further down the road and see the mountains, and it looks pretty again. And then you get there, and it is all brush. So the scenery is pretty from a distance. Perhaps that should be their mottos - "Southern New Mexico and Southern Arizona, Pretty from a Distance."

The biggest difference on the drive are the topes, which roughly translates as "hazardous, mountainous speed bumps on the highway." The highway is a dangerous drive not just because there is the threat of cartel hooligans, but because there are some hazardous turns, no shoulders, and the topes, which are even more dangerous at night.

After the drive, we reached our home, which was an overwhelming experience. There were a few Americans there from the office to greet us as well as a few Friends Supporting Nicely (FSNs) who unloaded our air freight (EF'M no longer recognizes the term UAB) in our living room. Lots of activity as God's Servent Overseas (GSO, who also was the one who escorted us from the border, not the secruity officer as I falsely reported before) explained the security features; Tiffy was running all over the place; boxes were being unloaded; and, oh yeah, I was taking in the new home. It is a great home though - a huge step-up from the couple of one-bedroom apartments we've lived in. I'll write more on our home later.

Everyone then left as we unloaded our car, got cleaned and then went out with most of the American officers for tacos. I feel a little guilty because we are surrounded by tacos, which I like, but not nearly as much as others might.

I was busy all day Friday unpacking, and then we attended a baby shower for one of the FSNs and had more tacos. Saturday was spent grocery shopping and picking up a few other odds and ends. And finally, Sunday, today, I got a taste of the Internet.

The biggest change thus far has been the lack of Internet. It isn't just about blogging, either (sorry faithful readers). I miss e-mail. I miss reading sports columns. I really miss sports in general. I miss updating my fantasy baseball roster (though my team seems to be doing fine without me).

And now that I'm in Mexico, the Internet will be playing an even greater role in my life as it will serve as a phone as well. I plan to Skype more with my family and friends. I'm going to hook up a Magic Jack to do work.

But alas, we are still some time away from getting the Internet to our home. Currently, I'm relying on the bread crumbs that fall from the tables of other American diplomats and their generosity to muster up enough time to put this blog entry together.

I hope this update is enough to hold you over for a little bit, as I'll likely go back into hibernation for a few days (or longer, gasp) until we get the Internet.

Our Luggage is Here...So Where Are We?

NOGALES, Ariz. - So I lied yesterday. You get one more scintillating posting before we find ourselves on foreign soil.

Natalie is spending the morning doing some consultation work with the Nogales Border Control while I use my remaining hours in our motel room in this bustling city. Well, by bustling, I mean deserted. Last night, we represented half of the rooms booked in this motel. It is kind of depressing.

Though they still served us a free hot breakfast this morning. A woman arrived to work for one hour (for $6) and as we approached the lobby, she asked if we wanted ham or sausage with our eggs. Meat and eggs? I was expecting an old toaster and individually wrapped bagels like at the La Quintas.

We said yes to the ham, and then she surprised us with eggs, ham, sausage, hash browns and toast to go with our coffee and juice. That was all free, though given the fact that we are on a per diem, which we've been way under, and she was nice and working for so little, we felt obliged to leave a generous tip with her.

When I found out we were crossing at Nogales, they might as well have told me we were crossing at La-La Land, as I have never heard of this place and had no idea what to expect. My impressions was this city's last economic "boom" occurred in the 1970s, maybe earlier. There are several vacant buildings with for rent signs including a neighboring motel, the Bud Get Inn (I assume it was the Budget Inn, but who knows), that didn't make it and a gas station across the street that is vacant as well. I think the only thing keeping this city going is the one-night guests that don't want to traverse Mexico at night. So they drive to border, stay the night, maybe get dinner, and cross the next morning leaving Nogales behind.

Anyway, the big news of the day is that while I was using time to catch up on some blog reading, I received a phone call from our regional security officer letting me know that if we need any last minute items (as if our car could hold anything more) that I could stop by the Wal Mart. Then he also added that our air freight (EF'M no longer recognizes UAB) has arrived already!

Other than for the obvious reasons of having more of our stuff here already, this also is a huge bonus for me as it will give me a lot to do in these earliest days of adjusting. Unloading our car and sorting those items is a small task that I figured I could knock out before today is over.

Unloading and sorting our air freight will keep me busy most of the day tomorrow, I imagine, as that also has our desktop computer and printer in it.

At this rate, it shouldn't take much time at all before our Hermosillian (?) home starts to feel like our home.

Pack-out Diaries, Epilogue

Dear Pack-out Diary,

After 15 hours total, the movers/packers wiped their hands clean of dealing with us. All of our possessions, save for those we can carry in our car, are in some remote location, hopefully starting the 2,500 mile journey to Mexico.

I've got a few leftover items that didn't make it into yesterday's post, and a few other observations from our experience to wrap this series up.

First, someone who knows a lot more about etiquette than I needs to put together a comprehensive book on the rules of tipping. I'm at a loss on this topic. There really isn't rhyme or reason to what is a good tip and who you tip.

For example, the first time a gas station attendant pumped my gas, I felt obligated to tip him, so I gave him $2. He looked surprised. I told my dad the story, and he said that is because you don't tip gas station attendants. Why not? We tip bell hops for flagging down a cab or moving our bags on a rolling luggage rack.

So, yesterday morning as the movers/packers were finishing the job, Natalie called Free Studies Inside (FSI) to get their advice (Natalie edit: actually, it was the travel office), because we felt like tipping here seemed appropriate. Plus, as I mentioned yesterday, we liked these guys; even the schmuck was a nice guy. (Though our opinion is subject to change depending on the status of stuff when we get it.)

The word that came down from FSI is that the government doesn't cover tipping the workers, and that often times, people provide food and drink for the workers. That would have been good to know during the first day of packing, but not so helpful during the second day. (And to add insult to injury, not only did we not buy them lunch, we ate our lunch in front of them...we aren't bad people, just ignorant on these matters.)

So we tipped each of the three movers $40 at the end of day yesterday. I have no idea if that what was cheap or overly generous, but I say that compares pretty favorably to a $10 lunch. Though they probably didn't feel that way on the first day of packing.

Also during the first day of packing we had lots of visitors. The State Department sent over an inspector, which was surprising because we didn't ask for one. He was a very nice guy and gave us one good piece of advice. Buy a guest book for our travels. The moving/packing company also sent an inspector.

I don't really have tips for how to prepare for pack-out other than it seems that unless you dedicate an absurd amount of time sorting through every thing, you won't ever be 100% ready. We were ready enough that our air freight shipment (I now consider UAB obsolete) has most of our necessities. Though the ratio ended up something like this: Natalie - 350 pounds; Tiffy - 60 pounds; EF'M - 40 pounds. I guess this was my penance for poorly overseeing Al's pack-out.

If we had this move to do all over again, I suppose I'd spend more time preparing our air freight. That is probably the only good, over-arching piece of advice I can offer.

The thing is is that every one's situation is different. For us, about 80% of our items were going ground/surface/sea (so long to HHE, too). For non-local hires, I'm guessing there is a lot more going into storage.