October was full of awesome. I worked a total of 8 days. Our first visitors from the U.S. came for 10 days, and I took on the mantle of informal tour guide and interpreter. It was a whirlwind tour beginning with the infamous “night market” in Beijing and eating some fried starfish. We hit lots of the Beijing highlights, including the Great Wall, Summer Palace, Forbidden City, and Temple of Heaven, as well as two trips to the dirt market for some art and knick-knacks. Never did get that fish lock, though. Nor those motorbike hand covers – we’ll keep looking!
We squeezed in an excursion to the ancient capital city of Xian, mainly to see the famed Terra Cotta Warriors. It was an interesting trip, complete only with the finding of a fuzzy baseball cap emblazoned with the immortal words “Stompy Ruffers.” Alas, the cap stayed on the shelf at the shop, for none of us were worthy to carry – let alone wear – such a wondrous item.
The last portion of the month was spent being sick with a nasty cold, and we're both still trying to shrug off the congestion.
It's sounding like next October will be quite solid, too: new visitors who will be charged with bumping things up a notch at the night market -- we gotta find something that tops starfish!
Anyway, our spring is fairly wide open in case anyone else wants to squeeze in before we get up to centipedes and scorpions.
Monday, November 09, 2009
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Rest? Recuperation?
Up until two weeks ago, I had never been to Hawaii. I was looking forward getting out of Asia for a while and spending some quality time back in the good ol' U.S. of A. If you've been to Honolulu, you can imagine my shock when I got off the plane to find myself still surrounded by Asians! If you've never been there: Honolulu is part of Asia -- or at least caught in some sort of dimensional rift between Asia and the West.
We fought our way through the crowds and managed to eat at Red Lobster and Chili's, two places we missed that can't be found in Beijing.
Thankfully, only that city seems to be trapped in the rift, as we escaped the black-haired throngs when we went to Maui. We met up with our moms there and spent a week driving around, snorkeling, shopping, eating, and seeing some cool stuff. Maui highlights: snorkeling with green sea turtles (they didn't even have masks on!), driving the crazy winding road to Hana.
After a week in Maui, we moved on to the big island, where my sister joined us for a few days. Our room wasn't quite like the pic D-What posted on her blog, but somewhat crazy nonetheless. (See pics on Flickr via the link to the right.) Big Island highlights: Volcanoes National Park, Donkey Balls (http://www.surfinass.com/donkey-balls.html).
While I strongly feel that even the worst day in Hawaii (unless it's an omgvolcanolavaonmyhead day) must be better than most days in Beijing, the trip didn't quite have the "rest" and "recuperation" that we wanted -- it was too short, with not enough time just for ourselves (though of course it's good to see family we haven't seen in 1-2 years).
At least I only have to work for a week, then our first U.S. visitors arrive! Woo hoo!
Friday, September 25, 2009
Did You Know? "East vs. West" Edition
There are many euphemisms for the excretion of bodily wastes. One of my favorites is “answering the call of nature.” It’s politely vague, yet conveys a sense of urgency in attending to a natural biological event.
In pre-historic times, I imagine that privacy and hygiene were of little concern and therefore answering the call was quick and easy. Suppose you’re out on the prairie with your fellow hunters/gatherers, and you feel the call of nature. You just take care of business right then and there – the others don’t care because they do it too. The private restroom had not yet been invented. And these acts (or the body parts used to perform them) had not yet been labeled as taboo.
Fast forward several thousand years. In this day and age, “civilized” sensibilities have pushed privacy and cleanliness to the forefront of concerns related to excrement.
In the U.S., you are likely to find a restroom in nearly every shop, restaurant, or other facility that is open to the public. If space allows for more than one room, they are likely to be segregated by gender – one room for males, one for females. If there is but one shared unisex restroom, it is sure to be equipped with a locking door to ensure privacy. Even inside the men’s and women’s rooms, the individual waste-collecting stations are usually separated from each other: by partitions with doors, forming a stall for each toilet; and by small dividing panels between urinals.
There is also an expectation of basic cleanliness in public restrooms in the U.S. All surfaces should be cleaned regularly to reduce germ population. Sinks should be operational, soap should be available, and some method for drying wet hands should be accessible. If only there was some sort of system in place to enforce their use.
Last but not least, public restrooms in the U.S. are expected to have an adequate supply of tissue paper for every toilet. Disposable toilet seat covers are often also available, though not strictly necessary.
Best of all, these facilities are almost always free of charge to the user.
In summary, one should feel comfortable that clean, private facilities are available almost everywhere.
That is not the case in China or Korea. Despite dense urban populations (or perhaps because building space is often at a premium), the priorities for public restrooms are very different from those in the U.S.
Usually, a less rigorous cleaning schedule is applied to most public restrooms in Asia. I’m not entirely sure why, because it’s not like they don’t have the manpower (in China, anyway). Restrooms will generally be more “grungy” than in the U.S., though restrooms that belong to Western or Western-styled establishments tend to be cleaner because they wish to appeal to a clientele they perceive as more affluent. The cleanest of the non-Western restrooms I’ve seen correspond with the mid-range of U.S. restrooms in terms of cleanliness.
Perhaps the most noticeable difference is the waste receptacles – not the trash cans (though we’ll address that in a moment), but the toilets. The standard toilet in Asia is not the Western pedestal style, but rather a squat toilet – essentially a hole in the floor.
Using a squat toilet is not something to which most Westerners are accustomed – and therefore many try to avoid them. If you have time and can seek them out, you can find Western style toilets – but spend enough time in Asia, and sooner or later you will find nature calling urgently and a squat toilet as your only option. Each person will find their own method, but the basic strategy is to have a wide stance, with your feet flat but not leaning too far forward or back. Thankfully, squat toilets are usually (but not always) partitioned in stalls so you can develop your personal strategy in private. Unlike most Western toilet partitions, squat toilet partition walls usually go down to the ground (presumably because your butt is hovering mere inches above the floor).
To date, the squat toilet is the best argument I have found against wearing pants. A skirt or kilt is ideal for squat toilet use – pants around your ankles just restrict your maneuverability and get in the way.
So now you’ve figured out how to balance and execute a bowel movement in the squat toilet. Time to clean yourself up. If you’re expecting to wipe with toilet paper, you’d better have brought some with you – most likely there isn’t any provided. It’s probably not that the supply has run out; but rather that it wasn’t supplied at all. If you failed to bring your own paper, the standard cleaning method is water (provided via bucket or hose inside the stall) and your hand. If you did bring paper, don’t throw it into the toilet! Squat toilets are not designed to handle paper and they clog easily. Instead, put the used paper into a trash bin (sometimes in each stall; sometimes in the main restroom area). In many places that have Western style toilets (which are able to handle the used paper), you are still expected to dispose of the paper in the nearby bin. Hopefully you have also brought your own soap (or other sanitizer), as the restroom is likely not equipped with any.
Now, as if dealing with the squat toilet wasn’t enough for those with Western sensibilities, the restroom itself may be used by both men and women – urinals along one wall, and toilets for both men and women on the other. This doesn’t seem to be terribly common, but I’ve been in a few like this – like the tiny unisex restroom in a bar in Seoul in which the urinal was within arm’s reach of the non-locking door. The Korean girl who opened the door that time got an eyeful (not literally).
In the U.S., if it is unclear whether a stall is in use, one usually knocks on the door and the occupant calls out something like “occupied!” In Asia, it seems that the standard response is not to call out, but rather to knock back from the inside.
Finally, there are also sometimes truly public toilets along the street. These come in two basic varieties: the attended unit and the automated unit. Both are usually fee-based. You insert money into the automated one to open the door. After you exit, the door closes and an automatic cleaning process readies the unit for the next user. The attended unit is simple enough: pay the attendant the fee to use the facility. I have not yet had the honor of using either type. Something to look forward to, I guess!
In pre-historic times, I imagine that privacy and hygiene were of little concern and therefore answering the call was quick and easy. Suppose you’re out on the prairie with your fellow hunters/gatherers, and you feel the call of nature. You just take care of business right then and there – the others don’t care because they do it too. The private restroom had not yet been invented. And these acts (or the body parts used to perform them) had not yet been labeled as taboo.
Fast forward several thousand years. In this day and age, “civilized” sensibilities have pushed privacy and cleanliness to the forefront of concerns related to excrement.
In the U.S., you are likely to find a restroom in nearly every shop, restaurant, or other facility that is open to the public. If space allows for more than one room, they are likely to be segregated by gender – one room for males, one for females. If there is but one shared unisex restroom, it is sure to be equipped with a locking door to ensure privacy. Even inside the men’s and women’s rooms, the individual waste-collecting stations are usually separated from each other: by partitions with doors, forming a stall for each toilet; and by small dividing panels between urinals.
There is also an expectation of basic cleanliness in public restrooms in the U.S. All surfaces should be cleaned regularly to reduce germ population. Sinks should be operational, soap should be available, and some method for drying wet hands should be accessible. If only there was some sort of system in place to enforce their use.
Last but not least, public restrooms in the U.S. are expected to have an adequate supply of tissue paper for every toilet. Disposable toilet seat covers are often also available, though not strictly necessary.
Best of all, these facilities are almost always free of charge to the user.
In summary, one should feel comfortable that clean, private facilities are available almost everywhere.
That is not the case in China or Korea. Despite dense urban populations (or perhaps because building space is often at a premium), the priorities for public restrooms are very different from those in the U.S.
Usually, a less rigorous cleaning schedule is applied to most public restrooms in Asia. I’m not entirely sure why, because it’s not like they don’t have the manpower (in China, anyway). Restrooms will generally be more “grungy” than in the U.S., though restrooms that belong to Western or Western-styled establishments tend to be cleaner because they wish to appeal to a clientele they perceive as more affluent. The cleanest of the non-Western restrooms I’ve seen correspond with the mid-range of U.S. restrooms in terms of cleanliness.
Perhaps the most noticeable difference is the waste receptacles – not the trash cans (though we’ll address that in a moment), but the toilets. The standard toilet in Asia is not the Western pedestal style, but rather a squat toilet – essentially a hole in the floor.
Using a squat toilet is not something to which most Westerners are accustomed – and therefore many try to avoid them. If you have time and can seek them out, you can find Western style toilets – but spend enough time in Asia, and sooner or later you will find nature calling urgently and a squat toilet as your only option. Each person will find their own method, but the basic strategy is to have a wide stance, with your feet flat but not leaning too far forward or back. Thankfully, squat toilets are usually (but not always) partitioned in stalls so you can develop your personal strategy in private. Unlike most Western toilet partitions, squat toilet partition walls usually go down to the ground (presumably because your butt is hovering mere inches above the floor).
To date, the squat toilet is the best argument I have found against wearing pants. A skirt or kilt is ideal for squat toilet use – pants around your ankles just restrict your maneuverability and get in the way.
So now you’ve figured out how to balance and execute a bowel movement in the squat toilet. Time to clean yourself up. If you’re expecting to wipe with toilet paper, you’d better have brought some with you – most likely there isn’t any provided. It’s probably not that the supply has run out; but rather that it wasn’t supplied at all. If you failed to bring your own paper, the standard cleaning method is water (provided via bucket or hose inside the stall) and your hand. If you did bring paper, don’t throw it into the toilet! Squat toilets are not designed to handle paper and they clog easily. Instead, put the used paper into a trash bin (sometimes in each stall; sometimes in the main restroom area). In many places that have Western style toilets (which are able to handle the used paper), you are still expected to dispose of the paper in the nearby bin. Hopefully you have also brought your own soap (or other sanitizer), as the restroom is likely not equipped with any.
Now, as if dealing with the squat toilet wasn’t enough for those with Western sensibilities, the restroom itself may be used by both men and women – urinals along one wall, and toilets for both men and women on the other. This doesn’t seem to be terribly common, but I’ve been in a few like this – like the tiny unisex restroom in a bar in Seoul in which the urinal was within arm’s reach of the non-locking door. The Korean girl who opened the door that time got an eyeful (not literally).
In the U.S., if it is unclear whether a stall is in use, one usually knocks on the door and the occupant calls out something like “occupied!” In Asia, it seems that the standard response is not to call out, but rather to knock back from the inside.
Finally, there are also sometimes truly public toilets along the street. These come in two basic varieties: the attended unit and the automated unit. Both are usually fee-based. You insert money into the automated one to open the door. After you exit, the door closes and an automatic cleaning process readies the unit for the next user. The attended unit is simple enough: pay the attendant the fee to use the facility. I have not yet had the honor of using either type. Something to look forward to, I guess!
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Disconnect 2, Electric Boogaloo
The disconnect is not just the Chinese, though. Americans at the embassy also have exhibited symptoms.
It started with our sponsors. Our social sponsors brought food over on our very first night in the country – and then did almost nothing to help us get to know Beijing. We had very little interaction with them for many months. Which is too bad, because we learned too late (shortly before their departure from Beijing) that they were actually pretty cool.
D-What's office sponsor, whose only real duty is to get you officially checked in at the embassy, wasn’t even around on the day she needed to check in. Which left us completely lost at a new embassy trying to find our way around to the various people who need to brief you and sign your check-in sheet.
And then there's HR. Sure, everyone has a story about a horrible HR person (or office) but I really think that the HR section here (at least, the way it was when we arrived) outdulls the competition (isn't outdull the opposite of outshine?). First they gave us wrong information on how to complete the forms for our red cards (Chinese government diplomatic IDs) which jeopardized our chances at even getting the cards for a year – and these cards are essential: you must carry them with you; you need them for travel within the country; and you need them to apply for the VAT refunds to which diplomats are entitled (or to purchase a vehicle, which we have not yet done). And later, as we were collecting adoption paperwork, they failed at multiple attempts to produce accurate letters verifying our employment and dates of living in China, despite being given all of the information AND having done this numerous times in the past for other adoptive families.
But the Management dysfunction doesn't stop there. D-What wrote recently about the flat rate envelope that was returned with an "insufficient postage" stamp. I want to know what they think "flat rate" means.
And the Management section head who recently left post was rumored to spend most of his time searching the web for witty quotations to put on the management notices (public service announcements) that went out from his office with his name on them.
I'm honestly a little scared of what might happen to me, since my office is one of many in the Management section. Probably not long before I too am assimilated and start blundering along with the rest of them.
{Gear shift}
The new ambassador, Huntsman, arrived a few weeks ago and delivered a speech to the embassy staff about how important this post is (probably true) and how we need to keep up the good work (probably wasn't talking about HR, though) and maintain our high level of morale. Wait a sec. Morale is high here? That’s news to me.
I think a fair number of people claim to be having a good time here. When I’m out on a housing inspection, I often chat with the resident, and we usually end up talking about what we have in common: Beijing. They'll ask me what I think of it, and I'll give them some generic line about enjoying bicycling (which is true, but has nothing to do with Beijing). And they'll tell me (also generically) how much they enjoyed their time here. What I really want to know is what these people are seeing (or claiming to see) – because I know I’m not seeing it. Maybe at some point I’ll just do away with the delicate phrasing and bust out the blunt stick and hit someone with that question.
Anyway, back to the whole "keep up the good work" thing: there are so many visitors to this embassy from all kinds of organizations (government or otherwise), especially for the topics that my wife's section handles, that she can't really get much real work done. I'd bet that if she were able to actually work on the issues for a solid week that she'd make more progress than any visit (group or individual) would accomplish. So much hot air – and they wonder why there's global warming. ;)
It started with our sponsors. Our social sponsors brought food over on our very first night in the country – and then did almost nothing to help us get to know Beijing. We had very little interaction with them for many months. Which is too bad, because we learned too late (shortly before their departure from Beijing) that they were actually pretty cool.
D-What's office sponsor, whose only real duty is to get you officially checked in at the embassy, wasn’t even around on the day she needed to check in. Which left us completely lost at a new embassy trying to find our way around to the various people who need to brief you and sign your check-in sheet.
And then there's HR. Sure, everyone has a story about a horrible HR person (or office) but I really think that the HR section here (at least, the way it was when we arrived) outdulls the competition (isn't outdull the opposite of outshine?). First they gave us wrong information on how to complete the forms for our red cards (Chinese government diplomatic IDs) which jeopardized our chances at even getting the cards for a year – and these cards are essential: you must carry them with you; you need them for travel within the country; and you need them to apply for the VAT refunds to which diplomats are entitled (or to purchase a vehicle, which we have not yet done). And later, as we were collecting adoption paperwork, they failed at multiple attempts to produce accurate letters verifying our employment and dates of living in China, despite being given all of the information AND having done this numerous times in the past for other adoptive families.
But the Management dysfunction doesn't stop there. D-What wrote recently about the flat rate envelope that was returned with an "insufficient postage" stamp. I want to know what they think "flat rate" means.
And the Management section head who recently left post was rumored to spend most of his time searching the web for witty quotations to put on the management notices (public service announcements) that went out from his office with his name on them.
I'm honestly a little scared of what might happen to me, since my office is one of many in the Management section. Probably not long before I too am assimilated and start blundering along with the rest of them.
The new ambassador, Huntsman, arrived a few weeks ago and delivered a speech to the embassy staff about how important this post is (probably true) and how we need to keep up the good work (probably wasn't talking about HR, though) and maintain our high level of morale. Wait a sec. Morale is high here? That’s news to me.
I think a fair number of people claim to be having a good time here. When I’m out on a housing inspection, I often chat with the resident, and we usually end up talking about what we have in common: Beijing. They'll ask me what I think of it, and I'll give them some generic line about enjoying bicycling (which is true, but has nothing to do with Beijing). And they'll tell me (also generically) how much they enjoyed their time here. What I really want to know is what these people are seeing (or claiming to see) – because I know I’m not seeing it. Maybe at some point I’ll just do away with the delicate phrasing and bust out the blunt stick and hit someone with that question.
Anyway, back to the whole "keep up the good work" thing: there are so many visitors to this embassy from all kinds of organizations (government or otherwise), especially for the topics that my wife's section handles, that she can't really get much real work done. I'd bet that if she were able to actually work on the issues for a solid week that she'd make more progress than any visit (group or individual) would accomplish. So much hot air – and they wonder why there's global warming. ;)
Tuesday, September 08, 2009
We Must Have a Disconnect
I want the title of this entry on a t-shirt. In English on one side, in Chinese on the other. It came to me in an e-mail today, in which the Chinese property management of one of our housing complexes had been discussing the use of adhesives (currently a problem in said complex) and our (American) Facilities Manager replied with "We must have a disconnect, there is a huge difference between an adhesive as a bonding agent and caulking for tile."
"We must have a disconnect." Those five words pretty well sum up my whole China experience – living, working, eating… anything.
Fully 90% or more of my questions about this place are not those of amazement (How did they…?), nor those of clarification (who/what/where/when…?), but rather those of bewilderment (Why would they…?).
It's bad enough that there are so many things that generate such questions, but what's worse is that rarely can one puzzle out a feasible answer. And why is that? Because in most cases thought was not applied in the first place, so trying to apply logic to figure it out is pointless. No logic trail even exists to follow back to the root.
Some personal case studies to illustrate my point:
"We must have a disconnect." Those five words pretty well sum up my whole China experience – living, working, eating… anything.
Fully 90% or more of my questions about this place are not those of amazement (How did they…?), nor those of clarification (who/what/where/when…?), but rather those of bewilderment (Why would they…?).
It's bad enough that there are so many things that generate such questions, but what's worse is that rarely can one puzzle out a feasible answer. And why is that? Because in most cases thought was not applied in the first place, so trying to apply logic to figure it out is pointless. No logic trail even exists to follow back to the root.
Some personal case studies to illustrate my point:
- Chicken dishes in Beijing. These almost always consist of large portions of the bird (sometimes including heads and feet, almost always including the neck) simply hacked up and dumped in – bones and all. This makes it incredibly troublesome to eat, as you can’t just eat around the bones because the tiny bone pieces are imbedded inside the chunks of meat.
Why would they do it that way, when de-boning before cooking seems so much easier and, dare I say, logical? - Denial of truth even as it chews your leg off. Also known as "the 'expert' (who has no firsthand knowledge) said so, therefore it must be true." The following was told to us by a neighbor who had an actual water leak in the wall of her apartment: she called the on-site property management rep, who came to her apartment and said "our engineers told us there weren't any leaks, so it can't be a leak." At which point our neighbor took the rep's hand and touched it to the wet wall. The rep continued to deny the existence of the leak, though workers came later to fix the spot (which apparently continued to be something other than a leak).
Why would they deny it? It's wet, it's leaking – it's a leak! Just acknowledge it and fix it! - Power to the (wrong) people. Our on-site property management rep has no power. She is the one we interact with directly when there is a problem, yet she has no actual power. She has to clear everything with her boss first, who probably has to clear it with his boss, and so on, with the actual decisions made by someone who is probably sitting in an office somewhere in Hong Kong and has never set foot in our building. (Okay, that may be an exaggeration, but truly the layers of resistance we meet for even the simplest of tasks are astounding.)
Why would they put someone into such a position yet give them no authority to make sure things get done? - Not wanting money. Taxi drivers will often refuse to take you somewhere. The most common reason I've heard is "it's too close" – which makes absolutely no sense because the meter automatically starts at a minimum 10RMB fare, meaning several short trips would be more lucrative than one long one. And it's not like the places we want to go are in the middle of nowhere; these taxis could get another customer in under a minute at our intended destinations.
Why would they refuse a fare? They can't tolerate a couple of foreigners (who speak passable Chinese, by the way) for a few minutes? - Inside-out light switches. In many Chinese apartments, the light switches can be found outside the bathroom doors, yet inside the closets. So the lights can be switched off from the outside while you're using the facilities, or you can fumble around in a dark closet before getting the light on (the switch is also usually placed on the hinge side of the door so you have to actually go in, close the door so you're in total darkness, and then have access to the switch).
Why would they design it that way? It's like the opposite of convenience. - Housekeeping, Bizarro World style. By that, I mean that our ayi's natural instincts are nearly directly opposite our own. And this is the second ayi we've had. Dusting furniture with water (despite being shown and instructed to use the Pledge polish). "Dragging" the mop around the floor, one direction only (not scrubbing or even any kind of back-and-forth motion). Unbuttoning ALL the buttons on my shirts after ironing, and buttoning/zipping up ALL of my pants/shorts – forcing me to unzip/unbutton just to put on the lower half, and re-button all the sleeves for the upper half. Every time.
Why would she do that? I don’t need to be slowed down any more than I already am in the morning. - Horseshoes and hand grenades. The underlying principle here seems to be "close" – but not quite there. Construction, manufacture, installation, cleaning – and more. It's not actually good, but "close enough" in their minds. And they wonder why we complain when the "good enough" floor boards slip and leave big gaps, or when they hang art off-center (close, but not quite) and leave huge holes in the wall because they had to drill into their "good enough" cement walls. They seem to shoot for an illusion of quality, rather than actual quality. I'm sure that's because the illusion is cheaper than the reality – they only do as much as they can pass off, but unfortunately the majority of the people then believe that the illusion is true quality, and then that false level of quality becomes the standard.
Why would they do that? Stuff disintegrates so quickly here, and then it just gets patched up with a quick/easy fix until it degrades far enough to be complete trash. If they started with slightly better quality work/materials in the first place, things would work better and last longer.
Anyway, don't just take my word for it. Come visit and experience the "wonder" yourself!
Sunday, August 16, 2009
A Champion Arises
A brave soul has stepped forth in this time of need, and has pledged to wage battle against the "Brewfest" holiday achievements. Should this champion succeed, my praise and gratitude shall be unending.
In other Wogworld news, we have decided to split our upcoming R&R: first Borneo to see the orangutans, then Hawaii to see the mom units and to set foot on American soil (and in American shops).
Winners all around, I say!
In other Wogworld news, we have decided to split our upcoming R&R: first Borneo to see the orangutans, then Hawaii to see the mom units and to set foot on American soil (and in American shops).
Winners all around, I say!
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
A Minor Gripe
When you're assigned overseas, you may be granted one or more instances of "R&R" (rest & recuperation) travel to break up the time in country (to, well, rest and recuperate from the stresses of daily life) where you are assigned. Each country has a designated R&R point, which is usually the nearest western-type culture (for Beijing, the R&R point is Sydney, Australia).
In most cases, you receive one R&R at the end of every year in country. (In the middle of your assignment, you instead get "Home Leave" which is a trip back to the U.S. to "re-acclimate.") At the end of D-What's language training, that was almost exactly one year in country. It was also a natural break: done with language training, not yet in her office at the embassy. Logically, it was the perfect time for her (us) to go on R&R. But no. Her boss demanded that she come into the office immediately (she was allowed to squeeze in 2 days of leave, which was our quick trip to Thailand).
So no R&R in July. Okay… makes no sense, but whatever. And one of her colleagues' Home Leave had been scheduled for August, so no overlapping allowed there because of the need to cover the bases. Understandable. So we had been told that this colleague would return to the office o/a September 8, at which point we could go on R&R. Well, this colleague decided to make additional plans, extended her Home Leave, and then asked D-What if that would be okay. Not cool.
Normally, since it was already pushed back this far, another week delay on the R&R wouldn't really make much difference. Except now it creates a conflict for me.
Yes, in the big picture it's trivial. But I'm really annoyed/disappointed that it's turning out this way: you see, in World of Warcraft, there are various "holiday" events for which there are special limited-time-only in-game events (special quests, etc.) with rewards unique to those events. Further, if you complete everything for every holiday, you receive an extra special reward. Well, I have expended no small effort to complete everything so far, as I really want that end reward. Only one of these holiday events is left – but now, the limited time for that event coincides almost exactly with our R&R. The nature of the event is such that I would need (if my math is correct) to log on for a short time each day for at least seven days of the event. Only three days of the event do not overlap with our "new" R&R plans.
Yes, I know it's "just a game," as D-What tells me frequently. But I've invested so much time and energy, the end is in sight, and I can't finish because of something out of my control. It's like a first-time marathon runner who has trained hard, runs 25 1/2 miles, and, as the finish line comes into view, gets hit by a bicyclist who strayed onto the course, and is too injured to finish.
It's a tough one to just accept and say "oh, well."
In most cases, you receive one R&R at the end of every year in country. (In the middle of your assignment, you instead get "Home Leave" which is a trip back to the U.S. to "re-acclimate.") At the end of D-What's language training, that was almost exactly one year in country. It was also a natural break: done with language training, not yet in her office at the embassy. Logically, it was the perfect time for her (us) to go on R&R. But no. Her boss demanded that she come into the office immediately (she was allowed to squeeze in 2 days of leave, which was our quick trip to Thailand).
So no R&R in July. Okay… makes no sense, but whatever. And one of her colleagues' Home Leave had been scheduled for August, so no overlapping allowed there because of the need to cover the bases. Understandable. So we had been told that this colleague would return to the office o/a September 8, at which point we could go on R&R. Well, this colleague decided to make additional plans, extended her Home Leave, and then asked D-What if that would be okay. Not cool.
Normally, since it was already pushed back this far, another week delay on the R&R wouldn't really make much difference. Except now it creates a conflict for me.
Yes, in the big picture it's trivial. But I'm really annoyed/disappointed that it's turning out this way: you see, in World of Warcraft, there are various "holiday" events for which there are special limited-time-only in-game events (special quests, etc.) with rewards unique to those events. Further, if you complete everything for every holiday, you receive an extra special reward. Well, I have expended no small effort to complete everything so far, as I really want that end reward. Only one of these holiday events is left – but now, the limited time for that event coincides almost exactly with our R&R. The nature of the event is such that I would need (if my math is correct) to log on for a short time each day for at least seven days of the event. Only three days of the event do not overlap with our "new" R&R plans.
Yes, I know it's "just a game," as D-What tells me frequently. But I've invested so much time and energy, the end is in sight, and I can't finish because of something out of my control. It's like a first-time marathon runner who has trained hard, runs 25 1/2 miles, and, as the finish line comes into view, gets hit by a bicyclist who strayed onto the course, and is too injured to finish.
It's a tough one to just accept and say "oh, well."
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