Who Chris Was To Me

You undoubtedly know that in Benghazi, Libya on the evening of September 11, four members of the Foreign Service family were killed during an attack on our consulate.

Two have not been named, pending notification of their families. One was Sean Smith, an Information Management Officer normally posted to The Hague but who volunteered for temporary duty there. And the other was our Ambassador to Libya and my friend, Chris Stevens.

There is the old line about six degrees of separation. That everyone in the world is separated (sometimes from Kevin Bacon) by only six people. But there are never six degrees of separation in the Foreign Service. The line about there being fewer diplomats than military musicians is true. And so I doubt there is ever more than two degrees of separation in the Service. If you don’t know a person, you certainly know someone who does. 

But with Chris, there was only one. We served together for more than a year and he was my friend.

There are certainly people who knew Chris better than I do. Many people have served with him over the course of his career with the State Department, and he was the kind of guy it was hard not to like. In fact, one of my friends went to Libya to serve with him at his request…how could you say no to a guy like that? I know her heart today, like mine, is broken.

You have read all of the official accounts of him. He was a gifted diplomat, a former Peace Corps volunteer who devoted much of his career to the Middle East. A devoted friend to Libya who went there first as an envoy to the rebels and then as their Ambassador once they had escaped Ghaddafi’s oppressive regime. He was devoted to his work and to his country.

But all of those reports talk about Ambassador Stevens, with all the lofty connotations of a person in that position.

To me, he was still Chris.

Chris was the political chief in Jerusalem when I arrived there as a freshly-minted Junior Officer. Shortly after my arrival, he assumed the position of Deputy Principal Officer, or DPO. DPOs are the consulate’s version of a DCM, or Deputy Chief of Mission. These are the folks who are second in charge at an Embassy or Consulate right after the Ambassador at the Embassy or the Principal Officer at a Consulate. And because the Consulate in Jerusalem is autonomous, meaning that unlike other consulates, it reported directly to DC and not to the Embassy (because our consulate in Jerusalem is our mission to the Palestinians. We don’t have our embassy there because the final status of Jerusalem is an issue for negotiation between the Israelis and Palestinians, and we don’t want to prejudice those negotiations). So basically, Chris was our Deputy Ambassador.

The duties of DCMs and DPOs are many, but one of the most important is that they serve as a mentor to the Junior Officers. So Junior Officers often get to know their DCMs very well. And such was the case for me with Chris.

For me, Chris wasn’t the Ambassador at an important mission. He was the guy who invited all of us JOs over to his place for pizza to talk about our concerns. He was the guy who would have parties at his awesome apartment with its amazing view of the city to display the photography of one of our Marines.

And he was the guy whose couch I would sit on and rant (or occasionally cry) about whatever the frustration of the day, week, month, or year was (and in Jerusalem, there were many). Sometimes he would listen patiently, sometimes he would tease, and sometimes he would offer solutions.

I have heard rumblings that his death is being used back in the states as a tool to score political points. Shame on those who are doing it. I am glad I am not there to hear it.

Chris’ life and death are not a tool for political gain. They are a testament to what we do as diplomats. We are the ones who are in not just the dangerous places you hear about in the news, like Afghanistan and Iraq, but equally dangerous places around the globe. Places where we lack the protection provided by the presence of our military. And yet we go there, because to not be in those places is for America to give up on relations with those places. It is for America to give up on peace with those places, on partnership with those places. We go to places where the military is not in hopes that they never have to go there. In a very real way, we place ourselves in front of the front line in the hopes that our words will spare American lives.

Chris and I hadn’t stayed in close touch, though we were friends on Facebook. The last time I talked to him was to congratulation him on his Ambassadorship because he deserved it.

He was a great guy, and I really liked him. And I will miss him.

Losing A Friend

I have written here many times about the dangers of Foreign Service work. About how we are risking our lives to serve the country.

Many people scoff at that notion. They think being a diplomat is about going to fancy parties. Pin-striped cookie pushers they call us.

Today, my heart hurts. Today, we lost four Americans serving our country. Among them, my friend Ambassador Chris Stevens.

I served with Chris in Jerusalem. He was our political chief and then our Deputy Principal Officer. He was a great diplomat and a great guy.

And he was a true friend to the people who killed him.

I can't really write much more about it right now, so I am going to leave you with the thoughts from some friends and with the video to introduce Chris as the new Ambassador to Libya. Because as one friend said, I want you to remember him as he was.



From Laura Smiley:

"I don't pontificate very often (*cough* - well, I guess I do), but as well as soluting our military and fire/police departments, we should recognize that there are those who choose to serve on the front lines, trying to engage directly with the people in other countries on a daily basis. These foreign service personnel do not carry weapons. They (usually) do not wear bullet-proof vests. They are often found in the epicenters of poverty and anti-American sentiment, quietly bringing the basic building blocks of civilization (education, clean water, medicine, electricity), or building upon those blocks (women's education, sustainable agriculture, democracy, civil society). They proudly represent the values and ideals of our great country abroad, and are true patriots.

"Smart, courageous, and much too self-deprecating (or at least not self-promoting as much as their credentials would certainly allow), I love serving along side of these selfless men and women!

"I ask you to spend a moment reflecting on their service, as well as their sacrifices."

And this from my A-100 classmate Tim Davis:

The Foreign Service is a mystery to most Americans. If you're reading this and not in the Foreign Service I may be your only link toAmerica's diplomats. Today, two of our missions were attacked and it's likely one of my colleagues was killed.

It's true that diplomats go to fancy receptions and meet interesting people, but it's also true that they go to the sorts of places the State Department tells you not to go; war zones with large military presences like Afghanistan and until last December Iraq. They also volunteer, however, to go to countries largely without the military,like Egypt and Libya, where today's attacks happened. And they don't just go. They raise the flag. Their sole job is to say, "I am an American and this is what we stand for.". It is a brave thing to do in places where anti-American sentiment is often palpable. It has a cost.

As someone trained in the Marine Corps it makes sense that I wouldvolunteer to go to these places. That's not particularly brave. Most of your fellow Americans in the Foreign Service who go to these places and risk their lives do so without the security of having been a Marine, but with faith in our country and the desire to do their part in projecting America's innate goodness to the world.

We are, as a nation, blessed with troops who are more courageous and more just than any the world has seen. We are equally blessed with diplomats, like my colleague today, prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice in the name of America and its promise.

Simply Amazing

Sometimes I get to do amazing things as part of my job.

Like meeting the Shepards.

Judy and Dennis Shepard are there with us in Tallinn this week.

While they are here, they will meet with gay activists, do interviews, speak to classes, speak at a showing of The Laramie Project, and even meet with Estonian President Ilves.

In each place, they carry the message of the necessity of tolerance, the dangers of bigotry.

What they have suffered, having their son brutally murdered for being gay, is simply unimaginable.

That they have taken that suffering and turned it into what can only be called their ministry is simply amazing.

I have trouble, 16 years later, talking about my mother's death. I still feel she was taken from me too young.

And I was older when my mother died than their son, Matthew, was when he was murdered. And my mother was not murdered.

The depth of strength they have, to go around the world and tell their story over and over, to start the Matthew Shepard Foundation to fight the battle they fight for LGBT acceptance, to work eleven years for the Matthew Shepard Hate Crimes Act at times when it seemed it would never pass, is unfathomable.

I told them last night that I was so sorry for their loss and so amazed at what they have done. And that I wish ever LGBT person could have parents like them.

Welcome to the 169th!

Okay, I am breaking my pattern of forgetting to welcome the newest A-100 class until days (weeks) after they begin.

So a warm welcome to the 169th A-100, which starts today!

So far, I have only been able to find two bloggers who will be joining the class. The first is actually long-time blogger Daniella over at Tuk and Tam. She has crossed over to the dark side (that is, she went from EFM to Tandem) by joining this class.

And the other blog is Pickering Fellow JDC over at Journey.

So congrats to Daniella, who has long since been part of the Foreign Service family, and welcome to JDC! ON EDIT: Found one more! The Dispatch

You've Heard That Before

I always hate using the excuse that I have been too busy to write.

But I am using it this week, because it has the unfortunate aspect of also being true.

For the last two weeks, actually, we have been full tilt preparing for the arrival of our new Ambassador. AND two concerts. AND an important speaker visit. AND several important military visits.

AND I had to do an EER for my APAO because I would really like to see her get tenure. (Fingers crossed everyone. She deserves it, as does my former APAO, who is also up this time. Of course, if they both get it, we will all talk about my awesome EER writing skills...for other people!).

The EER is done now. The concerts are half done. And the Ambassador's arrival would have happened except...

Lufthansa decided to strike Friday. So instead, he is supposed to arrive today. Fingers crossed for that too.

I'll try to do better...I will even try to tell you about our speakers after they have spoken.

And I will try not to forget to welcome the new A-100 class tomorrow! (Does this count as a welcome if I forget?).

These are the people

There was a terrorist attack against Americans in Peshawar, Pakistan today.

According to the most current reports, suicide bombers drove a car laden with explosives into a consulate vehicle. Two Americans and two local employees were injured.

You can read more about it here.

There are lots of people who think life in the Foreign Service is glamorous...and easy. This is one of the reasons why the American public is so willing to freeze our salaries for years and cut our pay when we go overseas. Because we have it so good.

Yes, there are great parts to being in the Foreign Service. I love my job, and I love serving my country.

But there are parts of it that are hard.

Like living in places where your health is compromised by the local conditions and local healthcare (or lack thereof).

Like having to spend your career away from your family, missing birthdays, weddings and funerals.

And like being a target.

I am lucky. I am in a safe place.

But I have been in dangerous places. And clearly, I have colleagues who are in even more dangerous places. Places I will likely serve in before my career is over.

So when you say your prayers tonight, say a few for those who are risking their lives to serve you. And when you hear someone talking about useless government employees and overpaid bureaucrats, remind them that the people who were injured today are the people they are talking about. That it takes both military and diplomatic power to advance our interests in the world, and that diplomats too sometimes pay the ultimate price for our country.

Ten

There were times this week when I wasn't sure I was going to survive it.

There were 31 Fulbright interviews over the course of two days.

There was the prep for the arrival of our new Ambassador.

And there were approximately a bazillion meetings, many to do with the item above.

Oh yeah, and I had to write an EER (that is State Department speak for an evaluation...I wanted it to be really good because really want to get my APAO tenured, which is State Department speak for job security and no more overtime) AND some brief remarks that also needed to be really good.

We didn't manage to get out of the office yesterday until 6:30, which was cutting it a bit close for our 7 pm dinner reservations.

And I didn't want to cancel the reservation, because yesterday was our anniversary. We have been married ten years.

Ten years.

We've been together for nearly 13, and we were legally married in Massachusetts on our 10th anniversary together.

But yesterday was our real anniversary, the one from our church wedding in North Carolina. The one where we promised before God that we would forever treasure the gift we had been given. Where our church community promised before God to support our marriage.

Ten years.

Seems like nothing. And everything. I hope we get at least 50 more.

Yep, I Went Gaga

Really, I am too old to do what I did last night.

Lady Gaga came to Tallinn. I like her music, as is evidenced by my iPod, but I have never cared one way or the other about whether or not I got to see her in person.

Actually, I am this way about most performers. Other than Elton John, who I have seen twice in my life, and BETTY, who I have now seen perform four times (all for work but I enjoyed every minute), I am just not that into going to concerts.

Too loud. Too many people. Too tiring.

Last night's concert was all of that and then some, but I am really glad we went. We had a blast!

The concert was held at the Song Festival Grounds, which meant standing the entire time. And the grounds have really limited parking, which means walking or cabbing to get there.

But because it was a standing venue, we were able to get really good tickets at the last minute. I wouldn't have even attempted it in the states...we all know the ticket mafia in the states makes sure that the decent seats are gone milliseconds after they go on sale.

There are of course disadvantages to a standing concert. One is that you have to stand for HOURS (six by my count). The other is that in the land of seriously tall people, being short is HARD. So my original spot was almost right next next to the runway part of the stage (you can sort of tell that from the photo below...that is her...you can also tell iPhones don't do good action shots). There were only two people between me and the stage...but they were both like seven feet tall. So I ended up moving back to the rear part of that area (which was still really close to the stage) and having a much better view.

Which you need at a Gaga concert. Because MAN does she put on a show! And the show tells a story. So you need to be able to see the whole stage.

And like I said, the show was a blast. The music was great and she knows how to cater to an audience. Like regularly throwing Estonia into songs (like in You and I, instead of singing about her cool Nebraska guy, she said her cool Estonian guy). And in the part where she drives a motorcycle around the stage, having an Estonian flag flying from it. And telling the crowd that the guy at the hotel told her not to be offended if the Estonians didn't make a lot of noise because they were very reserved...she told them that they proved that f*cker wrong!

I also loved the pro-American sentiment of the crowd...lots of American flag clothing to be seen...including the guy next to me by the stage with his American flag bandana, and the little girl she brought onstage to dance with her during her encore who was wearing American flag pants.

Today, I woke to my wife singing songs to and about the cats to the tune of Gaga songs...I guess she had fun too! Plus, she is impossibly cute. But don't tell her I said so.

As for me, I am indeed too old to stand for six hours and then walk two miles home at midnight. Today there is pain, groaning and advil in my life.

But I'd do it again! :)

It Is Getting Old

Just sayin.

President extends federal pay freeze

One Year Here

Today is my one year anniversary in Estonia.

Actually, yesterday was one year in country, and today was my first day on the job.

After less than this amount of time in Jerusalem, one of my favorite local staff members called me "the embodiment of anger."

And most of you who know me know I am not a generally angry person.

One year into my tour here, I still love it here.

I have an excel file called "Rotation Tracker." It tells you to the second how much time you have left in your tour. I looked at it practically daily in Jerusalem.

I have yet to look at it here. In fact, I find myself resenting the bidders contacting me about my job. While I know my job is on the bid list and that they are doing what they are supposed to because they will get their assignment a year before starting a year of language, they still feel a little like vultures to me.

I am not eager to leave.

And that is on top of a touch of homesickness. I really want to go home, see my family, and see my beach.

But then I want to come back.

Some of it is Estonia, and some of it is luck.

As everyone in the Foreign Service knows, a tour in a great place can be awful with bad management or nasty colleagues.

But here, not only is Estonia beautiful, the people friendly, the food tasty, and the travel easy, but the job is fun, my team is amazing, the management is good and there is not one of my colleagues that I dislike.

One year in, I still feel very lucky to be here.

Introducing Ambassador Levine

Our new boss will be arriving soon.

While we already miss Ambassador Polt, we are all excited to meet our new Ambassador, Jeffrey Levine, who should be joining us sometime next month.

Personally, I am thrilled that he is a dog person!

In advance of his arrival, Ambassador Levine shot an introductory video (and it includes cute dog pictures!):

What Is Better Than Old Churches?

Back in May, I told you that I had decided that I would make a personal project of photographing all the old churches in Estonia.

I have revised it a bit...they have to be built before 1900. I still may have bitten off more than I can chew, but I have continued to work on it none the less.

I went to Saaremaa a couple weeks ago for Regional Outreach and took a few more pictures, including a pentacle in the Kaarma Church that I missed in May.

Yesterday, we went back down to Saaremaa so I could speak to students at the GLOBE camp, and I got to see something even better than an old Estonian church.

I got to see one of the candidates for the OLDEST church in Estonia...and they were doing archaeology there!

The Pöide Church was built around the mid-1200s. The archaeologist I spoke with said that while the Kaarma Church was built around the same time but was likely a little younger. He even showed me some of their finds.

Plus, there were art historians there who were carefully removing the plaster covering the paintings on the wall. Restoration work is going on outside of the church as well. I hope to go back again and see how they progress.

We saw a couple other churches too, including one, Birth of Christ Orthodox, just off the island that is in ruins.

This is what it looked like before it bombed in World War II, and construction blasting in the area made the roof fall in.

This is one of just one of dozens, perhaps of hundreds of ruined churches in Estonia. I find them haunting and  sad.

Even if I can't finish this project, I am really enjoying it.

Sad News

The Foreign Service family lost a member yesterday.

USAID Foreign Service Officer Ragaei Abdelfattah, as well as three ISAF soldiers, were killed Thursday at the hands of a suicide bomber in Afghanistan. Another State Department employee was injured.

Secretary Clinton said "Ragaei's work over the last year was critical to our efforts to support Afghanistan's political, economic, and security transitions and was an example of the highest standards of service. Over the last 15 months -- partnering with local officials -- he worked in eastern Afghanistan to help establish new schools and health clinics, and deliver electricity to the citizens of Nangarhar and Kunar provinces. Ragaei was so committed to our mission and to the people of Afghanistan that he volunteered to serve a second year."

The work we do is sometimes dangerous but vital none the less. Our thoughts and prayers go out to him and his family.

You can read more about Abdelfattah here.

I'm On A Boat!

Public Diplomacy in Tallinn this week has had a decidedly military flavor.

We had a reception for some Estonian Wounded Warriors who had just returned from a week-long bike ride in Germany with other Wounded Warriors from the U.S. We had some U.S. cadets in town.

Yesterday, there were concurrent ceremonies at Arlington Cemetery and Ämari Air Base to honor Major Martin Kommendant, who was an Estonian-born American shot down in Vietnam. His remains were finally recovered and he was interred at Arlington.

And then today was kind of like this (warning: explicit lyrics!):



Actually, it was not at all like that. But it was exactly like this:

The USS Farragut is visiting Tallinn, and we arranged for the media to get a tour of the vessel. Poor me, I had to go to the harbor and tour the ship with them!

Life is hard!

And this is the view from the pilot house:

Yep...life as a PD officer is awful! :)

Just One Complaint

Jill over at The Perlman Update has started doing the blog round up (BRU) again (yay!), and this week’s theme is five things you like and five things you dislike about post.

I did one of these a while back, so I am not going to do another. My feelings about Estonia have not changed, and I remain convinced that if you are unhappy in Estonia, it is because you WANT to be unhappy. For me, as I approach my one year anniversary here, I still completely get why people come here and want to stay. Or come back and retire. I love it here.

But there is one thing I do not love. It is post related but not post’s fault. Nor it is Estonia’s fault.

It is our mail service (or lack thereof). And it is the Post Office’s fault.

We started having issues with our mail back before Christmas. Presents that people ordered well in advance of the holiday were not arriving. That is largely due to the Department’s going to the DPO (Diplomatic Post Office) rather than the APO we had before. It was a cost saving measure, but it means that DPO mail is space available and gets last priority after APO mail is put on the planes. So at Christmas, when everyone using the APO mail is ordering gifts, chances are ours are going to get bumped.

So fine. This year I will order in October. Or better, I will buy them in the states when we are hopefully there on R&R.

Then in January, we had a new problem. One of the carriers the Post Office contracted with sent our mail to Moscow! Something like 15 bags of it. And it was never seen again. Mostly it was flat mail, not boxes, so if you had bills coming by snail mail (or, say, replacement credit cards…), they never arrived.

The post offices response was that we should be happy we get mail at all.

Um gee. Thanks for your service?

Now it has happened again. This time, some 24 bags were sent to Warsaw. I think we have gotten some of them back and are expecting the rest…eventually. And along the way, I have also gotten random late pieces missent to Amsterdam, Riga…

And today, I learned that the problem is not just in one direction.

I got a note from my dad saying he just received his Father’s Day card!

You know, that holiday in JUNE?

The card was postmarked June 6. Today is August 7.

It took less than that amount of time for my HHE to arrive, and it was on a SLOW BOAT!

And all of that could have been mitigated if someone had said, Oh my gosh, I am so sorry. We will do all we can to find your mail and make sure it doesn't happen again. But instead we hear that we should be happy we get mail at all…this is why people hate the Post Office.

What I Missed Last Time

I went to Saaremaa yesterday for Regional Outreach.

Yesterday and today were Kuuresaare's Merepaevad, or Sea Days. There was a festival down at the water, complete with lots of boats on the water.

We used the opportunity to meet with local journalists, tour the local radio station and newspaper, and take a boat ride with some local officials (and end up in a "battle" with "pirates"...Nooste, who went along, did NOT approve of the cannon used to fight off the pirates!)

It was a lot of fun! I seriously dig my job!

But while I was there, I also got back to the church at Kaarma, the one with the giant pentacle that I missed.

I didn't miss it this time.

Pretty cool, huh?

Giving Credit

I pride myself in giving credit where credit is due.

So hats off to my wife for suggesting we wrap up our trip in Heidelberg! It was AWESOME!

AND...I finally got to see a castle. From the inside!

We essentially did two tours of Heidelberg castle. The first was with one of those hand held audio devices...where you walk around with headphones on and stop and stare at things.

Then we did a guided tour where you got to go inside places that are locked to those not taking the tour. I think part of the appeal is the guide actually unlocking the door so you have the feeling of getting something special.

The castle has a really interesting history. Out front is Elizabeth's gate, built for the daughter of the English king who married Wilhelm. He had it built for her overnight for her 19th birthday. They say she got a kiss for every small animal she found carved on the pillars.

They were married for 17 years when he died, and in that time, she bore him 13 children. Holy crap! Apparently, though the marriage was political, they apparently fell deeply in love. He even built her an "English castle" within the castle, complete with a theater in the round, so she would be less homesick.

Another interesting, but really sad, story about the castle concerns the architect of Ruprecht's building. Apparently his twin sons died during his construction of the building. One fell over a cliff and grabbed his brother to try not to fall, dragging them both to their deaths. Overwrought, he was unable to continue until they appeared to him in a dream. Comforted, he had images of his sons carved as angels to place over the entrance.

Also cool was the powder tower. An explosion of the powder kept there some three or found hundred years ago created the ruins as they exist now, with essentially an intact portion of the tower cracked off.

Pretty cool...one of the things I like in fact about this castle is that it is not completely restored. They did restore Friedrich's castle (below), but preserved the rest in ruin. It is awesome.

After the tours, we took the funicular to the mountain overlook...a pretty cool trip and awesome view.  

For dinner that night, we went to a little place out of the Old City. My wife actually lived in Heidelberg as a child, so we found a place she had eaten in 37 years earlier! The food was really good.

The next morning, we headed to the airport, where I nearly lost half our wine. I thought that since you can bring stuff in from within the EU, I could just put the wine in my carry on so I didn't have to worry about the bottles breaking. But no, it had to be less than 100ml...so I had to run back to check in and check my carry on...which is a soft sided shoulder bag. Luckily, the bottles made it...we sampled it last night.

And now that we are back, I have to leave again. I am doing a regional outreach trip to Saaremaa...life is rough!.

I WILL See A Castle, D*mmit!

After our last night in Colmar, we headed to Molsheim via a visit to the castle Haut-Konigsberg. I had planned to use that as a base to explore the wine route some more and to go back to Herrlisheim. We had two nights reserved in a hotel there.

The castle was unbelievably crowded. In fact, we couldn't even find a parking place at all.

So we decided to give up on it and head to Ribeauville instead. After all, Ribeauville has not one but THREE castles. I could just get my castle fix there.

Or not.

Turns out, you can't get there by car. To the castles that is...so we walked around town while they taunted us from on high.

Hot and tired, we decided to head to our hotel and just relax and see the town there.

Even before we pulled into the hotel, I questioned the wisdom of deciding to stay there.

First, there is very little to see in Molsheim. In fact, in 30 minutes of walking around town, we basically saw all there was to see.

Then, there was the hotel. The room was clean enough, but very small. And a little smelly. And hot. With no AC. So our options were to roast or to sleep with the mosquitoes. We opted for the latter. There was a badly painted over mold stain in the bathroom, which had no shower. And when I attempted to unplug a lamp to charge my phone, the outlet CAME OUT OF THE WALL!

We decided to change our reservations to just one night and reserve an extra night at our next stop, Heidelberg.

We did find a surprisingly good Italian restaurant in town, and the waiter was even from South Carolina (his mother was a Charlestonian and his father was French). From the outside, it looks like a cheap pizza stand, but the food was excellent.

That night, we roasted, and mosquitoes buzzed my ears constantly. It was miserable. And then at 7 am, I heard someone tapping a toothbrush or razor on the bathroom sink so loudly that I actually thought they were in our room.

No, the walls were just that thin!

We went to breakfast, which for 8 euros only got Mary one cup of coffee before they ran out. The croissants had already run out by 8:45. All that was left was some cold cereal, sliced Swiss cheese and lunch meatloaf.

The decision to leave was clearly a good one.

We headed north and stopped at Souffleheim, which is know for its pottery and is only a couple kilometers from the town my dad's family is from. I got a little wine jug and then headed to Sessenheim to get pictures of the church there (minus the funeral) and then back to Herrlisheim.

We went to the city hall and found Jacques, who despite speaking very little English, helped me me find several Schohns in town. It was a little like an episode of "Who Do You Think you Are?"

We left there and headed to Heidelberg. The hotel was MUCH better! It was gi-nourmous! It actually used to be a studio apartment, so we had couches, a dining table and a kitchenette.

And best thing? It is walking distance to the castle. I could see it in the distance when we walked to the Old City that first night.

There is finally a castle in my future!

A Mess in Metz But Calm in Colmar

The plan was to head on Saturday morning to Metz to tour around a bit before heading to Colmar...but Metz was a mess. They had a market that day right in front of the Cathedral. And not the kind of market with touristy stuff. The kind with clothes. And mattresses. And lots and lots of people.

Add to that our "upgraded" rental tank and a teensy parking garage, and we were just not in the mood to stay there long. So we snapped a few pics of St. Stephen's Cathedral and headed out.

Our other original plan had been to stay in Thann, at the southernmost town on the Wine Route, and then head north and stay two nights in Colmar, towards the center of the route. But realizing how close together these towns actually were, we decided to stay three nights in Colmar instead. Points if you know why I snapped the picture below.

Good decision. We had a great room at the Hotel Colombier in Colmar's Petit Venice, right on one of the canals. The picture below if from the garden off of our room...if you look closely, you can see a white cat in the doorway.

We had dinner that first night at a little Wistub, where I had a traditional Alsacian dish called Choucroute. And the tables are such that they may sit someone with you who you don't know. So we spent dinner with Ots, a guy from Holland who had just retired and was walking from his home country to Basil, Switzerland. He had been at it for seven weeks.

Sunday was a lazy day around Colmar. The town is beautiful, and has really inspired me to start drawing again. I really understand why artists sit around in plazas of places like this and draw what they see. How could you not be inspired? I took tons of pictures from our little walking tour around the town to get me started!

On Monday, we headed to Thann to start the Wine Route. We had no particular place we wanted to see...we just took the back roads and stopped occasionally to take pictures. When we hit the town of Cernacy, my wife decided to head up to the Grand Ballon, the highest point in the Vosges. The Ballon is basically a radar station. You can actually see the Alps from there. The hike to the top was nice but the wind was frighteningly strong and I was not properly dressed for a hike (because, you know, I thought we were going to be visiting wineries...I was wearing a polo and a fleece). Needless to say, I thought I was going to freeze to death.

After the hike, we had some lunch and headed on, stopping at a winery to test the wines. I found I really like the Alsacian Gewurtztraminer (or something like that), and we bought four bottles (word of warning...apparently wines count as liquids when going through airport security...so I nearly lost two of our bottles...more on that in another post).

We also spotted a stork in her nest, clacking her beak at her mate. The stork is the symbol of the Alsace...they were nearly extinct before an active breeding program created a healthy year-round population there.

We got back to Colmar in time for dinner and for my wife to prove once again that she has no gaydar. Two men from Switzerland sat next to us. I knew immediately they were a couple and in the course of chatting, I let them know that we lived together. My wife worried about me "outing" her. But a little context: They were travelling together with their dog, who was eight and who they had owned since she was 10 weeks old. They ordered one meal to share. They poured wine for each other and one swapped glasses with each other towards the end because he felt he had had too much. They smiled and commented to each other about the rainbow logo on my fleece...and here is the kicker...they whispered in German to each other about the cute male waiter. But my wife missed all that and wondered why they had asked if we lived together if they were also a couple. I told her they likely assumed two government employees had to be closeted.

One funny note...he asked what wine I liked and I said white. I had already told him about my granddad's family being from the Alsace, so he said, "of course you like whites. You are French. You are more French than this place!"

Oops, I did it again! Welcome 168th!

Doesn't someone out there want the job of reminding me when the next A-100 is about to start? I can only pay with my eternal gratitude!

 So, two weeks late (and that is what, half of your time in class?), a belated welcome to the 168th. The bloggers I have for this class are:

All Aboard the Crazy Bus

Frequent Flyer McGuires

and our old friend Tabbies In Tow, who has long been on the blogroll as a Foreign Service Specialist but is now in A-100 as a generalist.

Welcome to the Foreign Service y'all! I have moved your listings to the FS Blogroll.

Where The Horror Is Real

On Friday the 20th, we headed for some more such "exciting" stuff, the town of Verdun in France.

Verdun was the site of a brutal 10-month long battle during World War I. We started with the Citadel in the town, where you take a little car through the tunnels and hear the story of the battle. The ride felt a bit like a haunted house ride at the fair, riding through dark tunnels until the next horror was illuminated. But here, the scary stuff was real. Some 500,000 perished during this battle.


We left the Citadel and visited the sites around the battlefield...whole towns were just wiped off the map. These towns, like the town of Fleury, are marked with signs showing where roads, homes and lives used to be. And what really struck me was the land. The earth is covered in undulations that resulted from thousands upon thousands of explosions. Standing there, you could imagine the sounds of the bombs...and the sounds of the screams. I continue to find it haunting and unsettling. If you look at the ground around these gun turrets, none of that is natural.

Also haunting was the ossuary...more than 100,000 unidentified soldiers from all sides have this as their final resting place...the building is constructed with piles of bones in the walls. I took pictures of the building, both from a distance and from up close, but I felt it would be disrespectful to photograph the remains, which are visible there.

I did photograph the Trench d'Bayonnets. This is the site where soldiers in a trench were literally buried alive by an explosion. They weren't discovered until three years later when someone came across their bayonettes sticking out of the ground. Haunting...but at least they are buried with markers.

We finished out the day at Ft Douamont before heading back to the hotel, where I had a surprise waiting for me. Some 30 years ago, my parents got me a book on the history of my last name. The book was basically mass produced with a lot about how to do genealogy and not much on my actual family except a list of everyone with my last name that they could find in any phone book in the world. My last name isn't common...it is a short book! But in the book was a man in France with my dad and granddad's same name. So I wrote him and asked if he knew anything about our family history. He ended up getting interested in genealogy, and together, we connected our family here to our family there and have our direct line traced back to the Alsace to 1630! And by total coincidence, he lives in Thionville! So he came to the hotel and we got to chat for a while about our family history.

How cool is that?

The View From Above

Have you ever noticed that when there are beautiful, tall places, people with a fear of heights sometimes forget about the fear until they get to the top?

We spent a few days in Strasbourg, France, and one of the must sees there is the Cathedral. And of course, if you are married to my wife, one of the must do's is a climb to the viewing platform 66 meters up.

In case you are wondering, that is really frickin' high. See that flat area next to the spire? That is the platform.

Luckily, I am NOT one of those people who is afraid of heights. I am just one of those people who is out of shape! Of course, as I climbed the bazillion stairs, I took comfort in the skinny people who were also panting going up...and admired my wife who practically sprinted to the top.

I later learned that her speed was related more to fear...

After snapping some pictures of the city from that height, we headed back down. She of course sped along...she is in MUCH better shape than I am, but my attitude is to just keep moving and I will get there eventually. I may finish last, but that is ahead of those who don't try!

Behind me was a skinny guy...I offered to let him pass me, but he declined. You see, on the way down the spiraling stairs, there are sections toward the interior of the Cathedral and sections with floor to ceiling windows, like the one below...with no glass. I realized after he declined to pass me that what he was doing was descending normally through the interior parts and scurrying REALLY QUICKLY past the open windows.

Seems he forgot his fear of heights too!

While we were at the Cathedral, we also got to see the astronomical clock strike noon, and I purchased a replica of the beautiful stained glass window for a Christmas tree ornament (I used to have a completely teddy bear angel Christmas tree, but for the last twelve years, I have slowly replaced the bears with "ornaments" we get on our travels. Some are actual ornaments, but some, like this piece, are meant to hang on walls, sit on shelves, etc. For example, on this trip, I also got a teensy tinsy Alsacian pottery cup to hang on the tree). After the Cathedral, we took a boat ride on the river that surrounds the city...it was nice to get some sun!

Thursday, we intended to head to Metz on our way to Thionville, our stop so my wife could see the Maginot Line and that other "exciting" stuff like the World War I battlefield at Verdun, but decided instead to check it out on our way out of town in a few days. Instead, we went straight to Ft. Hackenberg, the largest fort of the  Maginot Line.

The Maginot Line was constructed as an impenetrable system of tunnels stretching along all of France's border with Germany. The motto of the line is "One shall not pass." Unfortunately, as the war showed, one might walk around instead...the Germans simply went through Belgium and the fort was surrendered without conflict. It was an American force that ultimately took it back from the Germans.

We spent the next two nights at the Hotel L'Horizon in Thionville...if you, like my wife, have a burning desire to see the Maginot Line and other such "exciting" stuff, it is the place to stay. The owner is an expert in the history of the area, and he is also an amazing chef! The meals we had there, often out on the terrace overlooking the city, were amazing!

Finding The Past

The idea behind this vacation was two-fold: I would get to see the places my ancestors are from and my wife would get to visit battlefields and other such "exciting" stuff. There would be castles, wine and chocolate. What's not to love (other than the battlefields and other such "exciting" stuff)?

We flew into Frankfurt on Monday the 16th. We had reserved a Ford Focus, but got upgraded to a small tank. Why we would want such a car in the last of tiny roads and tinier parking place is beyond me. But I am not experienced at driving a stick (I can do it, but I am not super comfortable with it), so this was apparently our only option.

We stayed that night at a place in Griesheim and got up first thing Tuesday morning to head to Herrlisheim, Rohrwiller and Sessenheim. Herrlisheim is the city my family originates from in the Alsace, though they moved from there to Rohrwiller and then Sessenheim before immigrating to the U.S. Herrlisheim was nearly completely (about 80%) destroyed in World War II, so there wasn't a lot old to see there, though I did find one interesting memorial crucifix on the edge of town heading toward Offendorf dating from 1775 for a Johannes Schohn and his wife Catherine Hermann.

In Sessenheim, I got to see the church where my family worshiped before they immigrated to the U.S. I couldn't go inside that day because weirdly, BOTH the Catholic and Protestant Churches in town were having funerals at the exact same time. I guess even in a small town, you had to choose between whose funeral you would attend. Makes me wonder if there is a Hatfields and McCoys thing going on.

The first picture is of the Catholic church. The second shows the domed Lutheran church from the Catholic church...so not a lot of distance between those two funerals...

With all of this visiting the places my ancestors were from, much of this trip has resulted in some interesting issues of identity for me. My mom was mostly Indian, with a bit of German tossed in to make it interesting. My dad, as far as I have always believed, was 100% German. My last name too was 100% German. Or so I thought.

My granddad had always been clear that his family came from the Alsace. But the language he grew up speaking was German, the foods he cooked were German. He said he was German.

The Alsace, of course, is in France. But the area has a complicated history, going back and forth from Germany to France. The people there now consider themselves French. My relatives there consider themselves Alsacian and French. Not German.

Turns out, my last name is not German. It is Alsacian. And while the Alsacian language, food and culture are Germanic, they do not consider themselves to be German.

I am still a good bit German. Like I said, my mother had German ancestry. And my dad's father's mother was Bavarian. My dad's mother, near as I can tell from her genealogy, was also German. But at this point, who knows?

Did You Miss Me?

I have been AWOL for a couple weeks.

I know when that happens with most FS blogs, people often fear the worst...that the Tigers have gotten them.

No Tigers here...just a nice long vacation....well, two weeks long anyway!

I am in the process of organizing my pictures and I took lots of notes so I could write about the trip for anyone who is interested...that would be mostly my Dad.

I'll leave you with this one to start:

Sixteen Years

Sixteen years ago today, the thing that continues to most profoundly affect my life happened.

I lost my mother.

A friend told me then that it never hurts less, it just hurts less often. Thanks for that, Joan. I have found it to be the truest thing ever said to me.

To lose a parent is to be made to feel like a lost toddler in a Department store. I still feel that way sometimes.

But mostly, I just feel this profound hole that nothing fills. I keep wanting to pick up the phone and call, wanting to tell her all of my adventures.

I do tell her, but it isn't the same.

The last time I spoke to my mother was on my birthday in 1996. She called me, like she did every year, at 1:26 am, the time of my birth. It was the one midnight call I got each year that never made my heart race thinking something was wrong. I grumbled each time I was roused from sleep, but I secretly loved it and I miss that call.

I wish my family had been the kind to make home movies so I could hear her voice again, see her again in something other than the still photographs, like the one above with my grandmother, great-grandmother, and a certain little baby dyke, that never quite capture her spirit.

I am lucky. I still have my dad and he is awesome. But I am jealous of people like my wife who have both of their parents.

So do me a favor. If you still have your parents, call them. Tell them you love them. Do it for me.

Cruisin'

I'm on vacation.

I am also still at home.

It is kind of hard to think about leaving Estonia when it is such an awesome place and the weather here is pretty darned pleasant (okay, it is raining at the moment, but the temps are still in the 60s in July...I would have all my windows open if I didn't think the Village Idi-cat would plunge to his death!).

Last night, we went on a harbor cruise on this cool old sailing ship. It is a schooner, basically the size of the boats Columbus took when he "discovered" America. I don't know how you spend months on a boat that size!

This vessel was built in Norway in 1939 and served in World War II. The Germans thought it was just run by drunk Norwegian fisherman, so they were never caught while carrying their cargo. Pretty cool.

And the weather last night was lovely, perfect for being out on the water.

After the cruise, we went with friends to Kochi Ait, a restaurant on the port none of us had gone to before. In fact, we only went there because the first place we saw had closed its kitchen for the night. The food was excellent...M and I just had snacks since we had eaten before the boat trip, but they were tasty and we will definitely be back.

Nice way to start our vacation.

Saying Goodbye

I said goodbye to my Ambassador today.

He isn't leaving yet, but today is my last day before vacation, and he will be gone by the time I return.

I didn't cry when I hugged him, but I came close.

I have been very lucky to work for this Ambassador. Everyone I spoke with about him before I came here said they would serve with him again anywhere. In the Foreign Service, that is the highest compliment you can pay someone.

He chose me for this position. It was a stretch assignment for me, and I feel like he really gave me a chance to prove myself by letting me come here and run my own PD shop. I feel like I have really grown, and continue to grow, and I owe him a lot for seeing some potential in me and letting me learn.

I also appreciate how much faith he seemed to have in me. If he ever questioned my judgment, he never let me see it.

He expects a lot. He expects people who serve here to behave as though this is a larger embassy. So we do a lot of things bigger embassies do and smaller ones do not to prepare us for running larger sections. And I feel ready for that for the guidance he has provided.

And while he expects a lot, he is also profoundly reasonable. If you give something your best and it just can't be done, he accepts that. He is easy to laugh with and is even willing to laugh at himself. He expects you to be respectful, but doesn't seem to think that means you have to be distant. I have seen him angry, but I have never seen him yell. He doesn't take out his frustrations on his subordinates. And when you do accomplish something, he is free with praise.

What I never told him is that I have one character flaw: if you micromanage me, you will get exactly what you ask for and not one thing more. But if you manage me the way he has, trusting me, expecting a lot and being reasonable, I will do backflips to get done what you ask.

So I am very sad to see him leave...this has been a great year. I am sadder still to know I will not have the chance to serve with him again. This is his farewell tour as he heads into retirement.

So farewell Ambassador Polt. I have enjoyed working for you and with you, and I wish you and your family all the best in your future endeavors. I hope to see you again.

Read This

I hesistate to write this post.

Most FS blogs are interesting (well, at least to those of us in or wanting to join the Foreign Service...), but few are Laugh Out Loud funny.

And when I find one and I call attention to it, inevitably, they stop writing regularly (I am looking at you, L, from Four Globetrotters! Write some more, dammit! And I have basically given up on M over at Facts are Strictly Optional...nine months without a new post).

So I admit that I am nervous about pointing you in the direction of Wild Thoughts From Wild Places. her writing reminds me a lot of The Bloggess (who is not Foreign Service but if you aren't reading her, you should be!).

Kate is a newly minted EFM heading with her husband, Mr. Kate, to Togo. And she is funny. I want to be her friend. I married my wife for her ability to keep me entertained, so I clearly place a high premium on funny. Though I don't value funny enough to bid on Togo to serve with her and Mr. Kate. That would be stalkerish. And it would be in Togo, which is not Estonia (where the temperature is currently a lovely 63 degrees...all you people in the states (you know who you are) who mocked me this winter for the brutal cold? I am sitting in my office with the window open and the sun and a cool breeze streaming in thinking that you can suck it!).

But seriously, how do you not laugh at someone who screams "We are vegetarians in the middle of a national park! Why the hell would we have meat tenderizer?!"

Go read her.

Speaking Estonian...to animals

I was finally able to relax this weekend after a marathon week last week. The 4th was exhausting and then we had issues with getting the Mobile American Corner app up on iTunes and Android (it is up now...a little late but better late than never. You can find the iTunes version here and the Android version here.)

To celebrate, M and I went out with friends to a little restaurant called Paat in Viimsi. The food was great and we got to sit in a covered outside area right next to the Baltic. A thunderstorm rolled in while we ate, and it was beautiful watching it over the water.

On our way home, we saw a large schnauzer running frantically in the street. It was neatly groomed, had a collar on and was running up to any car that stopped as if he thought that car would pick him up. M and I both assumed that he had escaped his fence during the storm. We drove a bit further in silence. I was fretting about the dog getting hit. Apparently M was too, because she said, "Maybe we should go back and get him." I think I had completed my u-turn before she completed the sentence!

We found the dog pretty easily. M called out the window, "Hi dog!" And I said, you probably need to spak in Estonian.

Sure enough, when I said "come here" and "are you a good dog?" in Estonian, the dog happily trotted over to me. I got him to hop into the car.

I just want to stop here and say that this goes to prove that the folks who think animals only understand tone and not words are wrong. I remember the little girl in Jerusalem who used to babble at Noostie in Hebrew. When I finally explained that Noostie didn't understand Hebrew, she looked at Noostie and said, in English, "Dog." Noostie looked at her. So she asked how to say sit in English, I told her, and she said, "Sit!" And Noostie sat. Because Noostie doesn't understand Hebrew. She understands English.

Likewise, our tone with this dog was no different in English or Estonian. But he didn't understand the English. he understood the Estonian perfectly.

Anyway, we stopped a guy walking down the street and asked if he knew where the dog belonged and he pointed out a house. We went there, told the owner what had happened and returned the dog, who seemed really happy to see his home and his mom. 


I am not sure which surprised her more, the foreigners speaking Estonian or the fact that they had her dog in their car! But she seemed geniunely thankful either way and took her dog inside.

And we went home feeling good about our good deed.

Happy July 4th!

Yes, I know I am a day late wishing you a Happy Independence Day.

That is because when you are serving overseas, July 4th is almost always a work day. For us, that meant the work day started at 8:30 am and didn't end until after 9 pm. And then I was too exhausted to write anything more than my Facebook status. So if we aren't Facebook friends, I apologize for being late!

Here is Tallinn, we had not one, but two events. I was the MC at the first event, a not too painful job. I don't mind public speaking. It occassionally makes me nervous, but yesterday I think I was too busy to be nervous. There were SO MANY moving parts. Luckily, this embassy is chock full of awesome folks, Americans and Estonians alike, and we work really well together. We managed to pack into one event the Ambassador's final speech, the introduction of the Mobile American Corner, show off the electric car we bought that is the first electric car in an Embassy fleet in Eastern Europe (it is a Chevy Volt and it drives GREAT!), give the Legion of Merit to an Estonian general, have a performing band (more like small orchestra...), announce the winners of the photo contest, AND have the Philadelphia Boys Choir (SEVENTY-FIVE BOYS!). And then of course there was the, gorgeous, gi-nourmous cake! (photo above is courtesy of a member of my staff, since by the time I got away from the podium, the cake was mostly devoured!)

Even on July 4th, this embassy punches above its weight.

So to all of you out there, but most especially those of you serving our amazing country in the military and Foreign Service, Happy Independence Day! Your hard work helps insure we get another 236 years of freedom!

Cure for Homesickness

Remember how I was saying the other day that I was a little homesick because we weren't really having summer? How I wanted it to be warmer?

Well this weekend, my hometown had this:

While my current home had this:

Yeah, feeling a little less homesick now.

In all seriousness, I know lots of people had a lot of damage because of the storms that came through, and still more are without power in the heat. Stay cool and stay safe, y'all.

Weighing In On Having It All

The Atlantic published two pieces this month by women at the State Department on the notion of "having it 'all'." The first was by Anne Marie Slaughter, who served as the Director of Policy Planning at State, and was titled "Why Women Still Can't have It All." The second, "How to Have an Insanely Demanding Job and 2 Happy Children" was by Dana Shell Smith, the Principle Assistant Deputy Secretary in the Bureau of Public Affairs.

I have been having a number of discussions about these two articles, to say nothing of The Atlantic's decisions to essentially pit two women at State against each other, with lots of my friends inside and outside of the Department.

It took me a long time to decide to weigh in, and even now, it is mostly because of the way the debate is being framed. No one seems happy with either woman's conclusions. Not that Slaughter concludes that society has to change and not with the amount that Smith admits she has given up.

First of all, I think the framing of the debate as women having it all is bogus. No one, not women but not men either, gets it "all," at least not if you have decided to buy into what society says "all" is.

It reminds me of the paradox of Israel. Thomas Friedman posed it this way: Israelis want to have a Jewish state that is a democracy in the Biblical lands of Israel. But they can only have two of those three things. That can have a Jewish state that is a democracy, but then it can't be in all the Biblical lands of Israel because there are non-Jews living there. Non-Jews with a higher birth rate that they have. So they could have a Jewish state in the Biblical lands of Israel, but it requires disenfranchising those non-Jews, so it is no longer a democracy. Or they could have a democracy in the Biblical lands of Israel, but it would not be a Jewish state because of the numbers of non-Jews there and their aforementioned higher birthrate.

The same is true of those wanting what society has decided is having it "all." Meaning, high-powered career and family with happy, well-adjusted children that you get to spend time with.

My wife and I are child free by choice. Most days, this is a decision I am happy with. When I was younger, I always assumed I would have kids. I like kids. But I have made a choice that children don't really fit into the life that I want for myself. And like Smith argues, I have owned that choice. I don't think that I can have a high-powered career, do all the travel I want, and give kids the kind of parent I'd like to be.

Of course, I have also made choices that mean I am unlikely to have a high-powered career. I work late when necessary, but only when necessary. I am less concerned about getting ahead than I am having a happy marriage. The same is true of my wife. She turned down a tour at the NSS, thought to be a career-maker in the Foreign Service, because she wanted to come to Estonia to study Estonian while living with me. Because we have both decided that at the end of our careers, we want to have each other to share our memories with. And so we have made choices that may slow down our career trajectory but definitely are in the best interests of our marriage.

But I reject too that any of this means we don't have it "all." What I have come to understand is that if you look to society for your definition of having it all, you can never succeed as an individual. You have to decide what it is at the end of the day that makes you happy and go for that. If it is the high-powered career, go for that, but recognize that it means you won't get time for your kids or your pets or your spouse or your hobbies. If you want time with your family, recognize that this means your career may not be as face paced as you'd like. If you want to spend all your time with your kids, be a stay at home parent. All are valid choices, but choices we have to make.

And realize that maybe all for you is not getting to spend as much time with your kids but finding a spouse who will. Or is raising kids who hopefully understand you won't be there for every recital like you'd like but that it doesn't mean you love them less. Or not having kids at all, and still choosing to go home at five to spend time with your husband, wife, or pet. Or to read a book, or train for a marathon.

We all have to decide what work-life balance is for us. No one can decide what "all" is for you. And society isn't going to change for us. Yes, we could, and should, hire more people so that we aren't "doing more with less," the ever constant mantra in the State Department. But even if we did, there would be those who would work those extra hours for whatever perceived advantage it got them.

No one gets society's "all." Not men. Not women. Not single, married, with or without children. We all have to make choices that fit what will best achieve our own personal all. And go for that.

And as an added bonus, let's not make judgments on what someone else's "all" is. Let's all own the choices we make, and make the choices that make us happy.

And by that definition, I have it all. And I hope you do too.