A Roller Coaster of Maybe's

At the end of December, I was going to be reassigned to a new country and trained for a different position.

At the beginning of January, I was going to wait a month before getting reassigned and retrained.

In the middle of January, I was going to be assigned to a short-term (six month) tour in DC.

Now, at the end of January, it seems like perhaps I'll be going to Mali sometime in February, to do the job I've already been trained for.

But... maybe not.

This is the foreign service life: a roller-coaster of not knowing what's next, or ever what the next couple weeks might look like. And I have to say, it's hard. Oh sure, I'm still working, and getting paid; my health is decent, and I get to see family more. But getting all wound up to move, planning how the next few weeks might look, and then having to put it all on hold again... every month... is exhausting.

Now granted, I'm in a relatively unusual situation; this shouldn't be my life from now on, throughout whatever career I may have in the Foreign Service. But at the moment, it seems all-encompassing. I'm working on trying to deal with in a mature, calm, and logical fashion. Sometimes I giggle about it. Other times I rage.

Out of a class of seventy-six Foreign Service Officers, I will be number seventy-six to actually go to post and start my first assignment. On the other hand, I'll be one of the first to get DC experience. Pros and cons.

Luckily, I have some great mentors and friends to help me through all of this, not to mention superb parents who are supportive and excited and invested in experiencing it right along with me.

So despite the frustration of not knowing, and aside from often feeling like I've just stepped off a roller coaster that was a bit too much for me... I'm a pretty lucky lady.

--Z

New Year’s News

 It’s 2016 and my story has changed in a variety of ways. My departure to Mali has been indefinitely delayed, and having finished all my training I am now work at the State Department’s Africa Bureau in DC. Thus far it has been a great experience. I’m learning about how the DC offices manage things and about the culture of the Foreign Service. The plan for the future changes regularly: maybe I’ll take consular training, or perhaps I’ll get reassigned to somewhere else, or it’s possible I’ll stay in DC until I can go to Mali. Literally, the plan has changed several times already, so I’ve settled into a mood of (mostly) calm and acceptance. What will come, will come. In the meantime, I’m earning a paycheck and spending time with family.

Of far more import, the world has become an emptier place. My grandfather, my dad’s dad, passed away on Friday, January 8, 2016. It was not unexpected. The past two years saw his rapid decline due to dementia; during the last year he was cared for by my uncle, who is a supremely loving, patient, and dedicated man. The whole experience, which I’ve seen from afar except for an annual visit, has been emotional for everyone. To see a loved one go through this type of illness is desperately sad and difficult; and to know that life goes on seems perfectly natural and yet perfectly unfair.

Driven always, it seems to me, by his passions, my grandfather was a veteran and a community organizer, a tree farmer and a father, a writer and a thinker, a lover of words and of nature, and a builder of community. His history is full of the amazing - escape from the nazis as a child; re-settling in the U.S.; building a home in Minnesota; fighting for labor rights; educating and helping and always a focus on the people around him - as well as the not-so-amazing - divorces; alcoholism; a great love for a furry feline. 

My favorite memories of my grandfather, Bob Treuer, are snapshots in my mind:

His belly laugh when someone said something that caught his fancy, followed by true tears of mirth that he would swipe away carefully with his thumb;

His “harrumph” and suspicious, disgruntled, yet ultimately just the tiniest bit proud glare when I put a seven-letter word on a triple word score on the Scrabble board;

His little-boy “nobody can see me” expression when sticking a finger into whatever food he snuck out of the fridge or found on the table;

His letters, which were always typewriter-written and signed by both him and his cat, Einstein;

His land: his tree farm, his home between two small lakes. I’ve taken countless pictures of it, but all I really need to do is think of it and I get the strong sense of the peacefulness and calm that I found whenever I was there;

And finally, I think of family. His children – my dad and uncles and aunt – and his grandchildren, great-grandchildren and beyond; cousins and friends and people he’s touched.

But what I’ll remember most is simply that he was my grandfather, and that I loved him, and that he loved me. His smile, his laugh, and the faraway look he’d get now and again.  I miss him already.

Nervous Waiting

First, it was nerves in terms of starting my "tradecraft" training - meaning, basically, "How to be a General Services Officer" class. So far, my class of 30+ general services officers, facility managers, and local staff, all of whom are going to or are already posted in different embassies around the world, have spent four weeks on contracting, a week talking about how our sections work in an embassy environment, and we're just now finishing two weeks of logistics management.  Next week we start learning about lease management! It's a firehose-type class, and a bit of death-by-powerpoint, but incredibly interesting for all of that.

For example, today we learned all about the various programs which are dedicated to outfitting ambassador's residences at an embassy. It took several hours, to give you an idea of how extensive they are!

Next, it was nerves about getting ready for the big move to Mali. Making lists of things to buy, things to get rid of, chores to get done... that's been going on for months. Now it's time to shop, shop, shop! With the help of my parents, I've gotten closer to knocking the shopping out. The main shopping left is for consumables - food, toilet paper, etc. - to take with me. My biggest hurdle here has been to resist feeling like I must build a mini-Target in my apartment in Mali. Many of the items I will need will be available there, though sometimes sporadically or very expensive. I have to remember that it's possible to survive without bringing tons of stuff with me...

Then, of course, the nerves centered around the dreaded Thanksgiving drive down to my folks' house in North Carolina. Thankfully, while there was certainly more traffic and my drive was about an hour and a half longer than usual, it wasn't too bad. And, I have to say, it was really a terrific Thanksgiving. I spent lots of time talking about my upcoming move and life in Mali with my parents and my brother and sister-in-law, and we enjoyed a lovely bout of practically-warm and dry weather. We were even graced with two American eagles flying over the little lake in the neighborhood!

And now, the nerves are centered around the recent events in Bamako. On November 20th, there was an armed attack of a major hotel frequented by Westerners in Bamako, with many civilians killed. It was scary and hard to read about it first thing in the morning, and follow the news all day, and then talk about it with friends, family, and colleagues who all reached out to see how I was doing.

Today, the US Embassy in Bamako went on what's called "authorized departure" status, which means that embassy employee family members can be evacuated, and some non-emergency embassy staff as well. This is not a full evacuation of the embassy, but it's still serious. I'm not sure yet what, if any, impact there will be on my departure date.

All in all, I've been doing a lot of serious thinking lately, and am trying to be well-informed but not feel overwhelmed by it all. Meanwhile, most of my colleagues from my A-100 introductory class back in January are either already at their posts or heading out in the next few weeks. I recognize fewer people in the halls of FSI these days, which is a little sad and a little exciting.

Soon, perhaps, it will be my turn to head out into the world.

--Z

Good Things Come in Threes

Jumping right into the news:

Literally, I Got Threes!

First and foremost, what's on all your minds, surely... I passed my French test! Yahoo! In all seriousness, I wasn't confident after walking out of the test that I had attained the desired score. Part of this is because the testing is designed to check the furthest limits of your abilities, which means by definition that you will not understand something at some point. Nothing like having to admit that in a test to make you feel sub-par...

Here's a brief primer on the Interagency Language Roundtable (ILR) scale, if you're interested:

Language scoring for the Foreign Service is on a scale of one to five, with five being highly educated, PhD level language skills. There are two numbers in a score, the first being your speaking/listening comprehension score, the second being your reading comprehension score. For French, as with many romance languages, the target score for getting off language probation (which I'll explain in a moment) is a 3/3. In other languages, the target score is different; Chinese, for example, is a 2/1.

A 3/3 means, generally, being able to converse with some facility and without a native speaker having to do most of the work to figure out what you're saying. Check out this video for an example of a 3/3 in English. Here is an example of a 2/2, and here an example of a 1/1. These are short videos that give a basic idea of the scale. And hey, here's a 5/5, just to give you an idea.

Not all native English speakers are 5/5, as you may have reasoned.

SO. I'm a 3/3, with "General Professional Proficiency." An Entry Level Officer (ELO in Foreign Service parlance) is one who has not yet gotten tenure. One of the benchmarks for obtaining tenure is to get off of language probation, meaning that you have to reach the target score in a formal test. Generally, ELOs have around five years before they obtain tenure, and a rather high percentage (in the upper 90th percentile, I believe) get tenure at that point.

In any case, I'm on my way to getting tenure! Just four more years and some work experience at post, and I should be good to go!

Family Fun: Three Great Visits

In September, I got to visit with my cousin Kendre and her daughter when they were in DC to visit Kendre's son Andrew. Since they live on the west coast and I'm on the east coast, we don't get to visit too often, so it was a real treat. We brunched in style and got caught up on family news. I discovered that Clara is exploring some artistic talents with joy, and Kendre is working hard to achieve a long-time career dream. I caught them up on my new life in the foreign service. All in all, though as always too short, it was a great visit!


Next, I visited my Miami family. This was a particularly good visit for me, because my
grandmother recently suffered a recent bout of illness. At over 95 years of age, she sure didn't need that kind of challenge. As usual, though, her sheer willpower, stubbornness, and the care of family got her through. It was lovely to hear her thoughts on current events as well as family history. We spent our visit playing Scrabble and bingo, taking meals, enjoying an ice cream social, and just hanging out in her apartment. Also, I stayed with my aunt and cousin, and so I got to catch up with them. Incredibly busy, they were brimming with energy and positivity. I felt really good about the re-connections to this branch of family.

Finally, I spent four days visiting my parents in North Carolina. This was a relaxing and restful trip: we did some shopping, and I got the tour of their estate (veggie garden, fruit trees, and lovely front

and back yards with a variety of plants). We talked lots about Mali and my upcoming adventure, as well as the various hobbies and interests in which they've been taking part. I also picked their brains and asked lots of advice, and we made a pre-emptory Costco visit (complete with a few samples, of course). As a bonus, we were visited by a cousin who is going through the paces of becoming a full-fledged medical doctor, and who I haven't seen in years. We got to hear all about her exhausting life as well as her dedication and serious thoughts about change and challenges in the medical field. So this was a double-whammy visit!

Three Key Points of Info Before Take-Off

I've gotten:

- my packout date (when movers will come to either fly, ship, or store all my of stuff).

- my airline ticket itinerary (hint: I get to stop over in Paris before heading to Bamako).

- all my immunizations (rabies, check; flu, check; meningitis, check).

I am ready to go!

Well, all right, there's still the matter of job training and buying a few (hah!) things for life in Mali, including an appropriate vehicle, and yes, there are myriad chores and details to handle before heading out... but I'm well on my way.


--Z

The Language of Learning

Thirty weeks of French training took me on an unusual path of self-discovery. Well, perhaps not so deep as all that, but it did make me recognize a few things about myself, good and bad.

Let me start with a whoop of absolute joy-relief-excitement-pride: I have passed my French language test with the score required, a 3/3 (on a scale of 1-5 where most native English speakers are between 4 and 5). The test was comprised of a conversation about my personal and professional life, a five-minute presentation on a random subject, and an interview where I asked the tester about life in his native country. There was also a reading portion of the test, where I read several short articles in six minutes and summarized them, then two longer articles with more substance.

This score means that in both speaking and reading skills, I can use and understand French at a more than basic and less than terribly proficient manner. Subjects like global warming, leadership, the migrant crisis, past and present and future ideas or events, and political opinions, are accessible to me in French. I can speak to a native without them being too confused as to what I'm trying to say, although they may have to overlook or interpret some grammar and vocabulary errors.

From knowing only such Anglicized words as rendezvous and deja vu, I can now read the news and discuss it in French with a native speaker. I may not read all the subtext in a written work, nor speak perfectly fluent and correct French, but in the end, I can communicate.

That's pretty darned cool!

My language teachers were from Senegal and Morocco, Benin and France, Cote d'Ivoire and both of the Congo's. I had tutors and counselors. And for the first time, I spent most waking moments of a considerable amount of time (seven months!) studying a single subject: the French language. It was incredibly hard, fulfilling, and enlightening.

I discovered that I can indeed succeed even when it feels like each day, I'm failing. I learned to listen to the advice of teachers and counselors which went against everything I thought I knew about myself. For example, at one point I was told to stop studying, that it was inhibiting my progress. It took me quite awhile to accept and follow this advice, but once I did, I was able to improve!

I also found out that I have, sometimes, a severe and critical self doubt, and a really ugly inner voice that, when allowed to speak, makes me shrink in self-disgust and contempt. It's hard to battle this voice and to tell myself it's wrong. I see it in my eyes sometimes.

These are all traits I would like to explore and try to understand, improve, change. I do not want to be controlled by that nasty jerk inside me, not ever, not even on bad days. Instead, I prefer the other inner whisper, that the difficult is surmountable and that I have it within me to succeed, through my own hard work and through the acceptance of help from others.

My parents have shared all my ups and downs throughout this crazy adventure of language learning, as they always do, and their persistent and positive support  has been crucial to my success.

The next step: three months of security, leadership, and job-specific training. And then, at the very end of the year, a move across the ocean and into a new (to me) world: Africa!

5776: What I Know and What I Think I Know

Today at sunset, Jews around the world are celebrating, will celebrate, or have already celebrated Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish new year. They have said, "L'shana tova," or happy new year, or given wishes for a sweet year. Tonight my parents are going to temple in Miami, where they are spending time with my grandmother. It is her 96th new year and my fervent and hopeful wish is that she has a healthy, strengthening, happy and love-filled new year.

Every so often I am asked, as the resident Jew, why the Jewish year is different than the calendar year we use today. Not a historical or religious expert, I generally explain only that the Jewish calendar is a lunar one, and was the one used until the current, Roman calendar was put in place. This seems to go over well with non-Jews, generally. When I mention that the Jewish year is five thousand something (5776 now), there's usually a blink in response, and a polite or thoughtful nod.

While sometimes this is a somewhat frustrating experience to go through - these conversations can go anywhere from thoughtful learning to threatened justification to attempted conversion - I recognize that in being a (relative) minority in the USA, I get to learn what it is like to be part of something seemingly obvious (most people know that Judaism is a religion) and yet not well understood ("uh, you can't eat pork, right?"). 

Why is this important? For me, it underscores two very different realities in my life that have manifested in the past year. Tonight's blog is an exercise in reflection on how being Jewish polishes the lens through which I might see the world. 

The experience of being "other" reminds me that the things that seem obvious might not be at all well understood. The example of the #BlackLivesMatter movement comes to mind. I know about it and understand the general message. But do I truly understand, can I really "get" what it is to be a Black Life in the year 5776 in this world, on this continent, in my own city? In fact, yes, I believe I can conceptualize it; but in reality, no, I can never know what it is like. I am, after all, white. What does this mean? Well, in reflecting on my experiences of what it is to be a Jew in a sea of non-Jews, and how tentative and sensitive and sometimes impossible it was to talk to non-Jews about it, be they friendly and curious or evangelical and judgmental... to me this means I must strive to understand and support Black Lives. It means that I must work towards understanding my own privilege, not to feel guilty (which isn't the point of exploring privilege anyway) but to perceive an existence different from my own and recognize the differences in how the world treats each of us. 

Having people tell me what the "reality" is of my religion - that I can't eat pork, or marry a non-Jew, or eat meat and cheese together - makes me think of (non-Black) media pundits commentating on the lives of Black citizens and their feelings and actions. How about we ask, and listen, and understand, rather than lump a mass of "other" into a single compartment of well-meaning but ill-treating, presumptive "understanding"? 

That's the first lesson I draw from my past experiences. Now to the future. 

Because the other reason this Rosh Hashanah is important to me, though I sit at home, alone, without having lit candles or sung a prayer, the other reason is that so very soon, I will be the minority again, but in a whole different way. No longer the choice of whether to speak up and self-identify as Jewish and therefore different, no! Quite the opposite: soon, the color of my skin will make me part of the minority. And how, exactly, do I want people to learn about me, to get to know me? I'll tell you: my preference doesn't lie with assumptions, lump-assertions, half-read histories or media-designated-truths!

Rather, I would like someone to ask me what it means to me to be a Jew, an American, a woman, a diplomat, a single thirty-something. Know me as an individual, and then thoughtfully make connections and distinctions from the other [pick a category] that one knows. And if that is how I would like to be treated, then I have a huge job ahead of me, because it is how I should treat every new person I meet. In the coming year, that will be a rather large number of people. 

How easy it is to assume! I have read about Mali's poverty, the Tuareg struggles, the more recent inclusion of extremist elements, the majority Islamic population, the dessert, the music, the history. Wouldn't it be easier, and perhaps justified, to go there "knowing" what it is to live in Mali?

I say, uh-uh, no way, it makes it so much harder, in fact: harder to get to know the people I'll live amongst and work with, and harder to experience a culture new to me, rich with so much that can change me, improve me, in many incredible ways. 

So looking back and peering forward, I hope to renew my curiosity in individuals, strengthen my resolve to listen and understand, and treat each person as part of a whole, yes, but also as wholly unique. 

L'shana tova to all. May your year be sweet and bright. 

--Z

Brain-Tired

A monthly update is in order!

1. French
2. LOTS of French
3. A bit more French
4. Some fun

Ha! Really, that's how it feels lately. Ok, so here it goes...

1. French. I took my interim test and did all right. It was a solid score, though not the one I was hoping for. Test anxiety took its toll, I think, and I'm just not quite at the expected level yet. This was disappointing for me, and it took me several days to get over myself. Meaning, coming to the actual understanding and belief that it wasn't a failure, but merely a marker of where my French language skills were at on that day, at that time, with added anxiety and pressure. My instructors all seemed a bit surprised and reassured me that with a bit more hard work I can overcome some of the difficulties.

2. LOTS of French. So, what to do but leave the country?! Less than a week after my test I left FSI for a two-week immersion in Quebec. It was fantastic! I stayed with a Quebecois woman, about my age, and her Guinean boyfriend. Neither spoke more than a dozen works of English during my stay, and we talked quite a bit. We ate breakfast and dinner together every day, and in the evenings we would relax in the living room together, watching TV (in French, of course) and playing/studying on our computers. I explored Old Quebec on foot every day and made conversation with waiters, shop-keepers and random other people. I took a tour or two in French, and tried to read all signs in French only.

Of course, it wasn't a complete vacation: I was in French class for half the day every day, generally four hours in the morning with a class and another hour in the afternoon in a private lesson. I found the teachers excellent and the school helpful. Some of the grammar we discussed there were covered when I got back, and I felt pretty good about knowing them already!

[Note for other FSO's considering immersions: I highly recommend it! On the logistics side, though: for me, it was completely out of pocket. Being a local hire, I don't receive per diem, and that includes when going to another country. Fair warning: it ain't cheap. But... it was totally worth it.]

Changing of the Guard at the Citadel.

3. A bit more French. And now, I find myself in a private class at FSI. It's fantastic: we're really focusing on how to use more complex grammar and doing in depth lessons. However, it's grueling, and the situation may change any day (instructor change, added students, etc). Also, with a test looming in just one month's time, the pressure is on to improve, improve, improve. Or, as I hear regularly, "Elevate your speech!" I created a regimented study plan to this end. However, a week and a half into it... I'm exhausted. Time to throttle back a little, I guess. 

4. Some fun. Dad came for a quick visit last week - arrived Saturday, left Sunday - which was great fun. We talked, ate delicious seafood, and did some kitchen shopping together. I spent some time by a pool with a good friend, catching up, and that was lovely. Another friend visited me for a walk through the zoo. This weekend, dinner with friends, disc golf with someone I haven't seen in awhile, a baby-viewing and a going away shindig. (And French studying. Of course.) There is still a social life, though there is some likelihood that my attention span is short and limited... my friends are forgiving, thankfully, and very supportive.

And that's all she wrote!

Putine, the dish I was told I must try:
fries, cheese curds, gravy. Mmmm.

35

The start of my 35th year is going well so far! I had a lovely dinner with some long-time local friends at my favorite restaurant in DC and received several nice gifts and phone calls from family and friends. I feel celebrated!

Well, aside from a full-time job of learning French, I have to admit that I don't always feel like there's time for real life. Somehow, though, it still sneaks in. Since my last post I've had a visit from dad, been diagnosed with Lyme disease, and had a great visit with family in Duluth.

During Father's Day weekend I got in lots of conversation with my pops, as well as a fun weekend including farmer's market, documentary at the AFI Silver theater, brunch out at a fantastic authentic Mexican place, visit to a little-known DC aquatic park, and Bamako planning. As always, it was too quick a visit, but I'm glad we got to spend the time together.

Early on in June, I went camping with some work friends in Shenandoah National Park. It was fun, but I managed to pick up a bug bite which, two weeks later, turned into the much-dreaded "bullseye" mark. I tried to ignore it for a day or two before it's spread across my torso freaked me out enough to see the doctor. The onset of symptoms, vague at first with muscle aches, a persistent headache, and pain in my jaw, quickly defeated me right as I began taking the antibiotics (good prep for Mali, as it turns out, because they're actually malaria meds!). I was down and out for two straight days before the meds kicked in and started alleviating the symptoms. It'll take awhile longer, but hopefully this course of drugs will kick Lyme out of my system for good. It's been a nerve-wracking experience, but hopefully starting treatment within a week of seeing the bullseye means a permanent recovery.

And finally, I took the opportunity of a long Fourth of July weekend to go up to Minnesota and visit
family. I had braced myself for a tough visit, emotionally, knowing my grandfather was ill. It turned out that, while he is indeed seriously ill, I was able to connect a bit with him anyway, which was a lovely relief. Two full days with grandma was also fantastic, as we talked about living abroad and independently, and about life in general. I also got to visit with aunts and an uncle, and all in all I was incredibly pleased to get to spend time with everyone. It was also surprising to me how nice it was to be back in Duluth.

Upcoming: I take my interim language test a week from tomorrow. While it's not really a pass/fail type test, it is a formal, in-depth language exam that will probably take between two and three hours. I'll receive a score the next day which will help me know how close I am to finishing language training. It's a bit stressful because about six weeks later, I'll take what should be my FINAL test, where I am expected to score a 3/3 (generally fluent) and be done with this part of my training. I've gained quite a bit of confidence and feel that I'm progressing well, but it seems unbelievable that I could be considered close to fluent.

To that end, I applied for and was approved to do a language immersion in Quebec City. I'll be there the last week of July and the first week of August, and the goal is to gain confidence and fluency in everyday speaking/listening. There will be class for around five hours a day and I'll be doing a homestay with a French family. There will be no escape from French, which is exactly the point. It should be a nice change of pace!

Note to local hires going through language training prior to your first post: any immersion activity is completely out of your own pocket. Non-local hires will receive the per diem rate for wherever they go (though, this does depend on the language department you're with), but we do not. Fair warning.

And so begins my 35th year... pretty exciting stuff!

--Z

Oui, Je Suis Encore à Étudier le Français! (Yep, I'm still studying French!)

View from a lookout point on Skyline
Drive in Shenandoah National Park

This'll be quick, because all is well and it's time for me to shut off my electronics for the evening.

First, language studies: my French is improving! A few weeks ago I took another informal assessment and was given a tentative 2/2, which means that I'm well on my way to the 3/3 score that I am required to obtain for my post in Bamako. The assessors pointed out some critical areas I need to work on and stressed the importance of not letting myself ease off the studying. In addition, my class is now down to two students (one was a bit more advanced and was moved to a different class) and another instructor. This one is from France and is around the same age, I think, as me and the other student. We get along great! She's very positive and encouraging and has some really good techniques of making corrections and giving feedback.

First and a half, since it has to do with language: I'm pondering doing a two-week immersion, probably in Canada. Know any good programs? Let me know! I'm required to take intermediate-level, or professional, French for at least sixteen hours a week, and to stay with a French family, and to have a list of activities I will go out into the community and do. It will be completely out of pocket for me in terms of cost (yet another punch to the gut of local hires: I won't get per diem during those days, as will my counterparts who weren't DC locals when they joined the foreign service; thus, the Canada choice instead of the costlier flights elsewhere). In any case, I'm excited about the prospects and busy researching away.

Ready for the folk festival!

Second, and last: Life in general is good! I had a lovely visit with my mom two weekends ago, during which we went to a folk life festival, a Shakespeare theater show, and went through my personal papers to thin it out (hint: it ended with over ten pounds of shredding material). Last weekend I went camping and was able to reset myself after a bout of personal frustration with French. Next weekend dad is visiting, and we've got some great DC activities planned as well as Mali-planning to do. This weekend, I visited with tons of friends I haven't seen in awhile, which felt great. I'm swimming laps twice a week and am up to 1200 meters in 35 minutes (a huge improvement for me!). The weather is sticky hot, my CSA is delivering lovely fresh produce, and I'm continuing to enjoy the life of a diplomat-in-language-training.



À la prochaine (until next time)...

--Z

Halfway Through a Hellish May

Two weeks ago, we switched instructors in my French training class. My class is the same three students, which helps with the transition as we all figure out how the new instructor teaches. However, along with the new instructor came a new pace of the French learning program.

I'm not completely sure that my assumptions about the program are accurate, but I can tell you what the situation feels like: there's a newly developed curriculum, with a book and a computer lab component to go with it. There are about ten folks going through the program in the same phase of training as me (phase 1) - I think the other two classes are more advanced, but still not on to Phase 2 yet. Phase 1 seems to correspond to the first sixteen units of the books and, conveniently, we're supposed to be able to be assessed at a 2/2 level (speaking/reading) by the end of week sixteen. From a newbie perspective, this seems rather clear: we must learn a unit a week. But then throw in the fact that three of us were absolute beginners, with no knowledge of French, and you can see how the first month or two would go more slowly. After all, we had to learn not just the vocabulary and grammar, but the actual pronunciation, including accents, spelling, and rules of connecting words or not connecting words together.

I think the plan had been to first assess us at week eight, halfway through the general time allotted for Phase 1, and halfway through the units allotted to Phase 1; we were assessed in week eight, and we all tested well in my class: we were at a 1+/1+, right where we were expected to be. We were then just completing unit five. Then, the original "plan" had us testing next at week sixteen... by which time theoretically, we would be through unit sixteen in the book.

This means that we now feel like we have to learn eleven units in just three weeks, since our 2/2 assessment was scheduled for the end of May. This wasn't a random assumption: our new instructor indicated that she would be doing at least three units per week to get us to the finish line (of unit sixteen).

Naturally, we freaked out a bit. Well, I did anyway. I went to the language supervisor (a different person than our instructor) and let her know about my feeling. The next day, she spoke to my class and assured us that all was progressing as it should, and that although we did need to get to unit sixteen in three weeks, several of the units were review and repetition. We felt a bit better.

The next day, the language supervisor came to speak to us again: our assessment was being delayed a week (to week 17) and we were each being assigned a one-on-one tutor, for an hour, twice a week. Also, instead of the usual, preferred method of having a main instructor for four hours a day and a different conversation instructor for one hour a day, we would have five hours with our primary instructor and no conversation instructor.

But, we were assured, we're not being rushed.

That was two weeks ago. Since then, we have covered three units, each with all new vocabulary and grammar rules. Our new instructor is very thorough and provides us with sheafs of handouts each day, which clarify and give examples of the new lessons we're learning. She's a tough task-mistress and I haven't quite figured out how to be more patient with either myself or with her. I'm struggling, and by the end of each day I am exhausted, frustrated, and quite sure that my brain is leaking out of both ears. By the end of each week, I feel worn down emotionally. I think it's the combination of a tough pace, a tough teacher, and a whole new style of teaching, which has shifted much of the responsibility of learning from the teacher in the classroom, to the student at home. I spend three to four hours outside of class each day studying, doing homework, and memorizing vocabulary.

There are no signs of slowing down. It looks like May is going to be one hell of a month and I just hope that my brain can re-charge each night and be ready each morning for the new day's marathon.

Saturdays are reserved as No French days, although I cheat and play with my French apps sometimes anyway. My classmates and I are doing our best to encourage each other and help explain difficult concepts to one another. Every now and then one of us snaps at the instructor, which is awkward for everyone.

But, I'm going to be speaking French like a pro in no time... I hope!

Meanwhile, I'm doing my best to take care of my health: in bed by 9:30pm each night, making my lunches and trying hard to eat breakfast every day, and exercising. I've squeezed in a 30-minute walk after class and before homework, every day. On Wednesdays and Sundays, I swim for half an hour with a coworker who is also going through a different language study program. I think these things help, but of course once on the path to eating, sleeping, and exercising more, it feels like I'm not doing enough. It's hard to keep myself from trying to mash even more into my schedule.

Like for example, the Data Visualization class I'm taking through my Master's in International Relations degree program. It took up two six-hour chunks of my last two Saturdays and has a project associated with it that will eat up around six hours of some other day. Probably not my best decision but it keeps me active in the study program. I'm not sure yet if my new lifestyle (not to mention location) will allow me to continue the program. To be determined...

La vie est belle... life is beautiful... I tell myself to just keep repeating that. In French, of course...

--Z