Working in an embassy

It has been a sad week for those of us who work in embassies around the world. We are accustomed to going about our work quietly, but now we've been thrust into the spotlight. And that is because US embassies are one, if not the strongest, symbol of America overseas. While the attacks on our embassies break my heart, it makes me proud to be a Foreign Service Officer and to be representing my country abroad. Most of us that work in embassies are not ambassadors; we don't make speeches that make the press, and most of us don't broker high level trade agreements or peace deals. But we make an impact in smaller ways every day as our paths cross with locals in the host country, and everything we say and do can be taken as a representation of the United States, whether we're aware of it or not. It is a heavy responsibility. In the consular section, I talk with over 200 Argentines each day who want to visit my country. They may have had limited or no interaction with an American up to that point. My colleagues and I try our best to greet each person with a smile, with respect, with an appreciation that they want to visit our country and sometimes with a sense of humor.....which brings me to the things that made me smile this week.

"What university do you attend, sir?"
"Universidad de Morón." Pause "That doesn't sound very good in English does it?" (It took me a minute to realize he had made a joke - applicants are usually too nervous to make a joke.)

"Señora, do you have any other nationalities?" "No, yo soy Argentina." (This literally translates as "No, I am Argentine," but it sounds to me like she's saying "No, I am Argentina.". Then I look at her full name and it is Maria Argentina. She really IS Argentina! Her middle name is Argentina!)

A family of four walks up.
"Where are you going to travel?"
The mom speaks right up:
"I'm taking the boys (los chicos) to Disney."
I look at the husband.
He says "Yeah, I'm really hoping she'll take me too."

Uruguay!

Mike and I are in Uruguay this weekend, and having a great adventure. For the record, Mike is an incredible trip planner, so we've gotten to see and do much more than I expected in such a short amount of time. I have planned a number of trips in my day too, but due to my directionally-challenged-ness, if you join me on a trip I've planned, you'd better be prepared to walk or drive at least 20 minutes in the wrong direction at least twice a day :)

We took the ferry from Buenos Aires to Montevideo, about a three hour "tour." Since getting to Montevideo, we've walked all around the city; saw the Palacio Salvo, which was the tallest building in South America when it was built in 1920; ate chivito al plato: a pile of fries with meat, ham, cheese, bacon, an egg, olives, ketchup and mayo on top; walked through old town, and an antiques market in a park; we ate some grilled meat and grilled sweet potato at a "meat market" by the port, where restaurant after restaurant was firing up its wood grills; we took a cab out to the suburbs to see the LDS temple and then we went to a sushi restaurant that had a great review in the NYTimes -- I've eaten a lot of sushi, and LOVE it, but this was THE BEST sushi I have ever had, go figure. Ceviche sushi with cream cheese, cilantro, and chili; we also walked (and cabbed) along the "rambla," which is a little like Lakeshore Drive in Chicago.

2 major things we've noticed here: 1) the amount of mate drinking here far exceeds what we've seen in Argentina, which is a lot. I'd say every third or fourth person we'd see walking down the street would have their thermos of hot water tucked under their arm, and a mate gourd in their hand. In fact, Mike saw a motorcyclist with the thermos under his arm, the gourd in his hand, a cigarette in his other hand, and...yeah, we're not really sure how he was driving. I spotted a mom with the thermos, gourd in the hand, soccer ball in the other hand, and her other hand holding on to her child (moms have more than two hands, if you hadn't noticed).

2) It smells like smoke here. All the time. It makes your eyes sting and everything. We finally asked the cabbie and the hotel staff "Why does it smell like smoke here all the time?" And they both said "I guess because of all the parrillas (the wood-fired grills)." They guess, because they are probably so used to it that they can't smell it anymore.

Now, we just took a city bus to catch a coach bus to take us to Colonia, a small town just up the coast. We'll spend tomorrow there, then head back to Buenos Aires. Thanks Mike for planning this great trip!

War Stories

I had one day this week that was crazy! I've been wanting to blog about it all week because I have so many good stories.

I am currently spending half my time at work in the non-immigrant visa section (tourist visas) and half in the immigrant visa section. I love both. But on this particular day I was in immigrant visas.

My first applicant was a fiancée of an American citizen, moving to the US to marry him and live there. Pretty straight forward case, no fraud or anything. I finished the interview at the window, and told her that the visa was approved and that she could go. She thanked me, and turned to leave the tiny interview room, but the door was jammed. And no one could open it!!! She was stuck in that little room for about 20 minutes before we could get the door open. I told her "At least I didn't refuse your visa and then trap you in here."

The next couple came in and (after seeing so many people try to break down the door) immediately said "We'll just leave the door open, thanks." This gentleman wanted to move to the US with his wife. I had my suspicions that he had been living illegally in the US, and asked him if he wanted to review his statement about his prior travel to the US before signing and swearing before a US Consular Officer. "Sir, I think you HAVE been to the United States before." "Never. Never been there." "Sir, I have reason to believe you have." "That was my brother." "Um, I don't think so. Are you sure you're ready to swear and sign your name to this?" "Well......OK, I entered the US with my Argentine passport in 2000 and didn't leave until 2006.". Me: "Well, thank you sir, for telling the truth.". In my head: "What?! No one ever tells me the truth, what just happened?" The guy just started gushing as his wife had her head in her hands: "Oh, I feel so much better now that I told you, it's like a huge burden off my shoulders, I'm so glad I told the truth!" I was too. He'll still have to wait until 2016 to reenter the US, but telling the truth to a government official can go a long way - now we were able to clear things up and I was able to give him instructions on how to apply for a waiver with DHS. No guarantee he'll get it, but lying in an interview always makes things so much worse.

Then.....I had an American citizen mother applying for her 13 year old son. Mom had gone to the US on a visa and overstayed, but eventually was able to overcome that and become a citizen. However, when her son was 6, she had her brother-in-law smuggle him across the border. Not the kid's fault, and he qualified for an immigrant visa now through his mom, so I was just finishing up his paperwork (though I was grilling the mom about his uncle, trying to get more info on him). Then, the boy starts tugging at his mom's sleeve: "Can I ask her mom? Can I?". He then looks at me and shyly asks "How did you get this job?" My heart about melted, I love talking about my job! He said "I heard that it's really good to know 2 languages, and I know Spanish and English!". I told him he'd go far. Sharp kid. But part of me was thinking he wouldn't necessarily like my job, which is to bust people like his uncle.

THEN: Supreme Court Justice Sonia Sotomayor visited the embassy and did a town hall meeting where we could meet her and ask questions! I got to ask a question (see pictures)! She is an amazing lady -- very sharp, but very kind, and for a person so high ranking, she definitely remembers how it is to be much further down on the totem pole. She walked up and down each aisle of seats as she answered the questions (NOT an easy feat. If you've ever tried to get to your seat in an auditorium, you know). She talked about her love and appreciation for work and service, and how everyone, from the hotel staff that cleaned her room that morning, to the clerks on her staff and up, made a difference in the life of someone today. Every kind of work has value, she said. Anyway, it was a great experience -- Mike and I feel so lucky that we get these kinds of experiences in our jobs with the embassy!

One more....

When I was about 3, I got my first baby doll.  My mom asked me what I was going to name him.  Well, I didn't know what to name babies -- the only one I knew was my little brother.  And so I named the baby: Baby Michael.  

Sports Memories

Here we've got my trophy line up: I played softball for 4 years, from when I was 8 till I was 12.  My first team was sponsored by Applebees and my second by Centura Bank.  I usually played first or second base because I was great at stretching and snatching up throws that landed short while keeping my foot on the base.  I never played catcher because you couldn't wear the catcher's mask with glasses.  Most of my softball team were my neighborhood girlfriends, and we had a great time.  I can still remember all the cheers!  G-O-O-D-E-Y-E!  Good eye, good eye good eye!  We want a single, just a little single, S-I-N, G-L-E, Single Single Single! 

I also played three years of basketball on local rec leagues. My first team was the Wildcats, then the Tornadoes, then the Stingers.  I was never fabulous, but we had a lot of fun.  On more than one occasion, my teammates passed the ball to me, but I wasn't looking and it hit me in the head.  Ha!  We all had a good laugh. 

I played one year of tennis (I should have talked about these sports in reverse order, we're going from best to worst).  It was on a rec league in Raleigh.  I had a few tennis lessons growing up, but I needed a lot more practice.  I remember being beat by an 8 year old once (I was at least 14).  But I learned the rules really well, and now enjoy watching tennis and shouting out "Deuce!"

Oh, and we can't forget my Shannon Miller Barbie.  All this Olympics gymnastics hype has really got me reminiscing about 1996.  Mike caught me last night with my jaw on the ground watching a TV piece about Kerri Strug when she landed that famous vault.  I was so fascinated with the Olympics that year.  I remember jumping up and down on the trampoline with my cousin, Jen, chanting "USA!  USA!"  And of course Shannon Miller was my hero.  This Barbie could do all kinds of tricks, like spin around and bend all her joints.  I brought her on all of our family trips and played with her in the car.  Good times.

I Spy.....

OK, so in this top box I found......candy wrappers?  I have no idea why I saved those.  I must have had a reason though.  A couple of Christmas ornaments I painted.  I used to paint anything I could get my hands on: last week I found a ceramic fish (circa 1992), whale, and wolf that I had painted as well, and about 40 painted sea shells.  My rock collection was also a huge find (I only painted a couple of those though).  We used to go panning for gem's at Panner's Creek growing up in North Carolina.  I had fool's gold, little garnets, obsidian, pumice, quartz, amethyst, and who knows what else.  I LOVED going panning.

I Spy #2: POGS.  Did any of you collect POGS?  I had that little orange container FULL of them!  But I still don't understand how we played with them or won them.  I just knew they were cool to have.  We also have here an eagle that balances on your finger, a snake made out of beads, a yo-yo (which yes, I could actually make work), a little penguin floating in a bubble, a penny collection (only from the 80's on though), a tiny flower pot, some Asian fans, a mini etch-a-sketch and simon says game, a "prayer rock" that I painted like a puppy, a troll (loved those trolls!), a Tamagachi (remember those!?  You had to keep your little electronic pet alive!), and of course another of my painting projects, my initials!

....and a thing for every place....

One of my favorite sayings is "a place for everything, and a thing for every place."  I am SUCH a sentimental and nostalgic person, that it is extremely hard for me to get rid of things.  However, getting married, receiving many wonderful wedding presents, and moving to an apartment half the size of each of our apartments in Caracas means some things have got to go.  Mike loves sorting and consolidating, so every time we get rid of something, he feels happy, but I feel sad.  Poor guy, every time he holds something up and says "can this go?" I get all teary-eyed and say "but I got that when I was 12 at such and such a place and such and such a time!"  It's been exhausting for both of us.  But such is life in the Foreign Service.  Moving every two years means you can't hold on to every little thing.  And anyway, as my mom always says, "people are more important than things," and Mike's the most important thing in my life now.  Just gotta make sure I pack him up with me each time I move from this point on :)

Luckily, we are about done sorting and donating/tossing, and it feels so nice to be settled into our own apartment, and everything has a place.  To help ease the pain of getting rid of some things, I took some pictures of some of the memories I uncovered and thought I'd blog about them so they're not lost forever! 

I think this will probably be a series of blog posts (there are a lot of pictures), so thanks in advance for indulging me in this bit of sentimentality/memory recording.