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.
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.
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.
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.
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!
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.
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!)
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!.
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.
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!"
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.
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!
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?
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.
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.
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.
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.
