Saying goodbye and hello

They say that change is the only constant, and that’s certainly true in the foreign service. Since I joined the State Department in January this year, I’ve been a part of many different cohorts that have existed for a short time, and then broke up.

My orientation class, A-100, lasted six weeks. The orientation has some similarity to boot camp: it’s an intense shared experience. That experience forged some strong friendships. When we received our first assignments, some of us went directly to language class, others went on to other training classes. We still keep in touch, but we are now all over the world. Some of us are still in language training, and some, like me, have been at post for a few months already.

Summer is a big transition time in the foreign service. Assignments at posts are for a fixed time, then when the assignment is over, we rotate to other posts. Although assignments begin at various times throughout the year, a lot of assignments begin in the summer. Rotating in the summer makes it easier for families with school-aged children.

My section chief left in early July, a fellow consular officer left last week, and another will leave next week. We also have a temportary duty officer working in the consulate for the summer, and she will leave next week. This is the last week for our summer intern and our summer student worker. We are holding a lot of good-bye lunches and parties.

If your idea of a good job is one in which you stay in the same place and work with the same people for years, the foreign service is not a good choice for you. On the other hand, if you like new challenges, meeting new people, and doing (very) different kinds of jobs every few years, this is just the place for you.

Throw in some jet lag, traveler’s diarrhea, bureaucracy, and cross-language/cross-cultural miscommunication, and you’ve got a good picture of my life now.

I love it.

But.

I really like everyone that I have worked with so far. Foreign service officers are smart, funny, interesting people. It’s sad to have to say goodbye to them. This morning I said goodbye to the facilities manager for the Consulate. We went on a few trips together, and he was a good influence on me, encouraging me to get out of the house. He’s off to Moscow now, and I’m not sure when, if ever, I will see him again.

There is another side to saying goodbye to friends, though. We get to welome newcomers to post. Having new people around keeps the conversation fresh, and keeps things interesting. And even though we are all always moving to posts around the world, the service is small enough that we often see each other again at different venues.

I hope.

Post Language Program

Most of the visa applicants that come to the interview window do not have functional English ability. These applicants are casual tourists who plan to visit the US with a tour group, under the care of a tour guide. Those of you who have gone on tours to foreign countries know that it isn’t necessary to speak a foreign language in order to be a tourist.

Although these applicants don’t need to speak English, they still need to have a visa interview. Since they don’t speak English, consular officers need to be able to conduct the interview in Chinese. The Foreign Service Institute in DC has a large language training program that prepares officers to use the language to conduct their diplomatic work.

The basic Chinese course, which is designed to get officers to a basic working competency, lasts nine or ten months. After that, officers are expected to be able to ask informational questions, and to understand what is being said to them. Just enough to conduct a visa interview.

Anyone who has studied a foreign language for ten months, particularly a “hard” language like Chinese, knows that ten months of instruction doesn’t get you very far.

I already “had” Chinese when I came into the Foreign Service, so I didn’t need language training. I’m lucky that I have a wide range of experience with using Chinese in various contexts, from everyday life with a native speaker (hi, honey! Miss you!) to professional settings, and even legal proceedings in courts. Even with this rich background in Chinese, I sometimes feel challenged at the visa interview window. The local accent is different from what I’m used to, and people use local terms that I’m not familiar with.

For example, there’s a term that seems archaic to me: 姑娘 (gu niang). It means “young lady.” but some older people use it to refer to their daughter. The first time that I heard an old lady saying that she wanted to go to American to visit her “gu niang,” I had no idea what she meant.

In another case, the one-child policy seems to have resulted in the collapse of familial relationships. One pair of younger applicants claimed to be siblings, but they had different last names. I had to ask them several questions about their relationship before I finally got that they were cousins. The guy said that the young lady was his 妹妹 (meimei,) which means younger sister. She was actually his 表妹 (biao mei), or daughter of his father’s sister, who happens to be younger than he is (if she would have been older than him, she would be his 表姐 biao jie, instead of 表妹 biao mei. Confused? Welcome to Chinese!). These are some of the local linguistic quirks that I had to get used to here.

If someone like me with greater depth of experience in Chinese gets stuck sometimes, it isn’t hard to imagine the frustrations that someone with less exposure would have. Although ten months is laughably too short a time to prepare someone to conduct a visa interview in Chinese, the service needs people on the interview line ASAP. It would be great if the government could spend five years to get someone to a really high level of fluency, but there isn’t time or money to do that. Besides, once you get the basics, you can develop higher levels of fluency through exposure. So, the service throws people on the line as soon as possible. The other officers and the Locally Engaged Staff are always happy to help when someone gets stuck. So there’s a bit of a support system at work.

When I was still in DC, I talked with an officer who did a consular tour in China a few years ago. He said that by the end of his tour, his Chinese was actually worse than it was when he was fresh out of language training. He said that he was fine with “visa interview Chinese,” but he had less functional ability outside the topic of visa interviews. I was surprised to hear that. A lot of people in the Foreign Service say that “getting paid to learn a language” was one of their large motivations for joining. We aren’t exactly getting paid to learn a language, but we are provided with this opportunity to learn language and use it on a daily basis. I understand that this isn’t a big motivator for everyone, and Chinese isn’t necessarily everyone’s first choice of a language. Also, since it’s a hard language, I can understand how people can get discouraged and give up.

The government also recognizes the value of diplomats with higher levels of language ability. Officers who are posted overseas can take advantage of the “post language program.” Some larger posts may have a full-time language teacher at post. In the case of us in Shenyang, the Consulate has contracted with a few local language schools to give language lessons to officers. I am eligible for 20 hours of language instruction per month. In theory, I could take some of those lessons during the work day, but the reality is that I’m so busy during the work day that I only have time for language class after work.

Two days per week, after work, I walk to the language school and have tutorial lessons for two hours. Usually, I’m tired after work, so I’m not as alert as I would like to be, but I always look forward to Chinese class. Language lessons are a terrific perk of the job, and one of the reasons that I wanted to be posted to China was the opportunity to improve my Chinese. All you taxpayers, I assure you that I work hard to get your money’s worth out of the tuition that you’re paying, and I promise that you’re getting a benefit from it. I’ve only been taking language lessons for a month now, and I have already seen an improvement in my reading ability. Simplified characters are more familiar to me now, which means that I can work faster, and process visa applicants more quickly and efficiently.

I’m determined to take advantage of this incredible opportunity to improve my Chinese. I know that a lot of people wish that they had this benefit, and I know how lucky I am to have it. I’m not going to waste this opportunity.

Life is good.

Victory!

A very big thanks to the consulate’s general services office, who came with their tools and freed my whiskey.

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Note that the seal is broken and the bottle isn’t quite full, due to a small celebration/quality check.

 

 

Chinese whiskey torture

Because Shenyang is a “hardship post”, foreign service officers that are posted here have what is called a consumables allowance. It means that we can order food from various warehouses, and although we have to pay for the food, we don’t have to pay the shipping costs to get it here.

I put in a consumables order a few weeks ago. Part of it came today: the good part. China has a very heavy import tariffs on alcohol: over 48%. That makes all alcohol very expensive here in China.

I have been missing my Irish whiskey ever since I got here. The first part of my consumables shipment was a case of whiskey. It arrived today, and was delivered directly to my apartment. However, it did not come in a very user-friendly packing case. It is in a wooden crate, with a steel strap holding it all together. It is sitting in my apartment, I have no tools to open it, and I feel like it is laughing at me.

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Not funny, guys. Not funny at all.

Lie to me

People lie to me every day. During visa interviews, I hear unbelievable stories from people. “I make $100,000 dollars a year. Here’s the deed to my 5,000 square foot house. I am the General Manager of my company.” All lies from the broke farmer who lives in a small brick hut in the country.

Intellectually, I know that people lie all the time, not only at the visa window. I also know that when the applicants tell lies, they don’t feel that they are lying to me personally. I know that I shouldn’t be bothered by the lies. However, I’m a human being, and emotions are part of being human.

Sometimes when I adjudicate a case, I feel like there are two devils sitting on each shoulder: Anger and Empathy. Each of these devils try to influence my decision.

When I detect a lie, Anger jabs me in the face with his little pitchfork. “This jerk is trying to pull the wool over your eyes, cheat the system, get something that he isn’t entitled to!” Deny that rascal a visa! Deny! Deny!” he shouts in my ear. Jab jab jab.

From the other shoulder, at the same time, Empathy pats my nose with affection. “This person is lying, but he’s a person and he lives a really tough life. He just wants go to America to improve his life. He knows that if he tells the truth, he probably won’t get the chance to pursue that dream. He is willing to leave his home country in order to try to get a better life. He’s willing to lie to get it. His current life is so bad that he’s willing to try to lie his way out of it. That’s pretty sad. Give him a visa, it’s the least you can do.” Stroke stroke stroke.

Unlike in the devil and angel, cartoons, where you’re supposed to kick out the devil and do what the angel tells you to do, in this scenario, you’re supposed to listen to both of them, then make an adjudication based on the applicant’s qualifications, not on how you feel about his situation. Simple, right? Wrong.

A hard part of this job is not to let emotions, either anger or empathy, get in the way of doing my job. Sometimes it’s tough to get past the emotions and do my job the way it should be done. I think that’s why the government has people doing this job. A robot or a computer program could never take just enough of the applicant’s situation into account. It takes a human being, who has emotions, but knows when to trust them and when to ignore them, to make the right decision.

The summer busy season is here

Summer is the time for vacations, and a lot of Chinese people want to vacation in the U.S. I heard that the average Chinese tourist spends more on a U.S. vacation than the average foreign tourist does. Tourism is good for the American economy in general, and Chinese tourism is very good for the American economy.

Here’s where it gets complicated: every person who wants to visit the U.S. needs a visa. The current law requires that every person who wants a visa must be interviewed by a consular officer (like me) at a U.S. embassy or consulate. So, during the summer travel season, we consular officers are very busy with visa interviews. Since we are a relatively small consulate, we “only” do between 400 and 600 interviews a day, among the officers. We are expected to average about 80-100 interviews per person per day.

Tourists aren’t the only ones applying for visas. College students are also getting ready to go to the U.S. to study in American universities (also very good for the American economy). In addition to tourists, we are also busy interviewing college students who need their student visas. Those interviews are a little easier, because they usually speak good English. Tourist visa interviews, on the other hand, are almost always done in Chinese.

We do visa interviews in the mornings, but our work doesn’t end when we stop interviewing. There is additional paperwork and administrative processing that we have to do on visas. However, since we have such a large volume of visa applicants, we started doing interviews in the afternoons a few days a week. That added workload puts more pressure on the other services that we provide, such as serving American citizens in the consular area. We manage to get everything done (barely), but we have to multitask, help each other, and work as fast as we can. It’s a high-pressure work environment, but I really like it. It helps to have good coworkers. The days go by quickly.

This afternoon we did a special outreach program: an online forum where people can ask questions about visas. Three consular officers, with the help of locally engaged staff members, fielded questions from people in the area. The participants were asking questions in Chinese, and we answered in Chinese. The local staff helped the officers read the questions. We answered the questions in our rough Chinese, and the local staff cleaned up our grammar and typed our answers. The session only lasted for an hour, and it was a lot of fun. I can’t wait to do it again.

The summer season is busy, and a there’s a lot of pressure to get everything done, but I’m really enjoying my work.

Life is good.

The mystery of the Sour Water

The other day, I got some water from the water cooler in the office. I hadn’t had any problem with this water before, but this time, the water tasted funny. Sort of sour, strange. A little chemically.

I asked a coworker about it, and he was puzzled as well. We decided to report it to the office manager, to see if she could shed any light on the mystery.

The scene of the crime

The scene of the crime

Well, we found out that the water was, in fact, vinegary, and we found out why. One of the office cleaning ladies, in an effort to “sanitize” the water, and prevent the spread of local cold virus, “sterilized” the water faucet with vinegar. She thought that vinegar was a disinfectant, and didn’t think that washing the water dispenser would affect the taste of the water.

In case it ever comes up in a conversation, now you know that washing the water faucet of a water cooler with vinegar does, in fact, affect the taste of the water.

Adjudicating Visas

My job at the Consulate is to adjudicate visa applications. When someone wants to come to the U.S., they have to apply for a visa, and come to the consulate for an interview. The current immigration law, which governs foreign visitors to the U.S., requires that every applicant be interviewed by a consular officer before being granted a visa. For this tour, I am a consular officer.

There are (literally) millions of people who apply for visas every year. That means that consular officers have a very heavy case load. It isn’t unusual for an officer to conduct 100 interviews every day. You can do the math: consular officers interview for five hours a day. If we interview non-stop, back-to-back (which, in fact, is how we do it), we have to do 20 interviews every hour, which means we only have three minutes for each interview.

In those three minutes, we have to take the applicant’s fingerprints, review the their application and travel history, determine their purpose of travel, and decide if their situation qualifies them for a visa. At the same time, we have to take notes in the computerized visa system, and keep a record of the interview and the applicant’s information.

Oh, and the interviews are conducted through a security window, and they are conducted in Chinese.

The process is incredibly complicated, and daunting to a new consular officer (like me). The process has to be complete; we can’t skip steps. If we issue  a visa to a person who is on a watch list or who has been excluded from entry to the U.S. because of criminal activity or abuse of a prior visa, we can get in trouble. If we issue a visa to a known terrorist, we can get fired and go to jail.

It would be a lot easier if people always told the truth. Unfortunately, many people lie. Some of my colleagues would go as far as to say that most people lie during the interview. The area that I am posted to has one of the highest concentrations of fraudulent applications in the world. So in addition to using the computer system, following the legally-proscribed interview process, and conducting interviews in a crowded booth in a foreign language, I also have to look for signs of fraud, such as inflated claims of income, fraudulent documents, bogus student status , and made-up employment.

I have been “on the line” for a week now. My supervisor is easing me into the job, having me work in two-hour shifts. I’m getting faster, but I am still averaging six minutes per interview, far slower than the goal of three minutes. My coworkers are understanding of my situation, though, because they have all been in my position, and they are supportive. They say that I will get faster as I gain experience and familiarity with the system. I am taking my time, making sure that I am following all the procedures. Quality over quantity.

This job can only be learned by doing it. It’s sort of like learning to swim or to drive. You can only learn to swim by getting in the water. The only way to learn to drive is to get behind the wheel. As the saying goes, “practice makes perfect.” What’s interesting is that as I have been doing the job, it is quickly getting less confusing. I may never be perfect, but the learning curve isn’t as bad as it seemed when I was in training.

 

Training in the park

We have monthly training days in the consular section, and once every year we have a big offsite training day. This year’s offsite was held in a city park, on a beautiful late spring day.

The training activities were very good, we did a lot of team-building exercises. I personally enjoyed the opportunity to interact more with our Locally Engaged Staff (LES). We work side-by-side with them in the consulate, but we officers are busy with visa adjudications, which the LES can not do. Although we work closely together, I feel like we are not working together. Preschool teachers talk about “parallel play,” in which children at a young age can play in the same room, but they don’t really interact with each other. That’s how I feel like the officers and LES usually work. It’s too bad, because I really like our LES.

So this training day was a chance for me to get to know the LES a little better. They are all delightful people who have been working in the consulate for years, and know many of the procedures better than the officers. They understand the strange quirks of Americans, and don’t seem to judge us for our odd behavior.

Here’s a quick picture of a training session, led by our colleague Ted. Look at this picture carefully. Notice the bike path behind Ted. That bike path is important; I will refer to that bike path in a little bit.

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As you can see, we were in a grassy place in the park, but we were in full sight of everyone. Many people who were passing by were curious about this group of Americans and Chinese talking together and doing group activities. Some people stopped and watched us for a while before continuing their walks.

One fellow was very, very curious about us. He wandered right in among us, and started to take picture of the Americans. I have seen this before. White faces are still pretty uncommon in this part of China, and the Chinese people are interested in, and curious about, us. They often want to take pictures of us, or even better, have their picture taken with us. I’ve already shot many selfies with Chinese people in the few weeks that I’ve been here.

This guy was not subtle at all. He walked right up to us, pointed his camera in our faces, and snapped his camera.

People who know me know that I tend to respond to obnoxiousness with obnoxiousness of my own. I pulled out my camera and started to take pictures of him, just as obviously as he was taking pictures of us.

He saw me taking his picture, and boldly started photographing me as I was photographing him. We created a photographic Mexican standoff with our cameras:

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Right about then it happened. Before I tell you what “it” is, I have to tell you a few things about bikers in China. Some people like to carry radios in their backpacks when they ride bikes, and play music as they ride. Older men like to sing songs from Chinese opera as they ride. I think they are showing off when they do it, trying to attract attention.

Now picture this: an old man riding a ten-speed bike, singing Chinese opera at the top of his voice. Strange, but not unusual for China. Now picture him riding past a group of Americans, noticing them, and turning to gawk at them. He wants them to notice him, so he sings a little louder, and watches the Americans to see if they notice him. While he is singing and watching, he is also pedaling his bike, but he isn’t looking where he is going.

Crash! The singing suddenly stops.

The old man, not looking where he was going, crashed his bike into another old man’s bike. That other old man that he collided with also wasn’t looking where he was going, because, hey look, there’s a group of Americans over there!

We caused a traffic accident, just for being white.

It was the best training day ever.