Tip of the Week--March 26, 2016

With all the flare-ups of craziness that have been happening around the world lately, it seemed prudent to pause our riveting series on questions, to talk about a very important part of your security--your relationship to your embassy. 

[A couple disclaimers before I begin:  1.) It was actually a colleague that suggested this topic.  So, Jessica, you get half of all the royalties I make off this post this week. 2.) While it might seem that I'm poking fun at embassies,  I mean no disrespect.  If anything, I'm pointing out the misperceptions and unrealistic expectations citizens have of their embassies. Hats off to you diplomats and embassy personnel!]

As you settle into your life abroad, you will undoubtedly go through several stages in your relationship with the embassy.  These aren't all that unlike the stages of grief one goes through in the moments of loss.  The inevitable effects of time and experience trim down your expectations, and this can, at times, be painful. Let's take a look:

Stage 1: Blind trust (Denial)

Brimming with confidence as you set out into the interior of the country, you feel a sure sense that the embassy has your back.  You even registered yourself with the embassy, so you know they are watching out for you.  "If I so much as even break a toe," you think, "the embassy is sending in the helicopter to get me.  Bad guys? HA!  I'm an American citizen!  The eagle eyes of my embassy are watching over me, and they'll swoop in with fighter jets if need be.  I've seen the movies."  (Sorry to be so exclusive here, Europeans.  You just don't have the same movies... ;-)) 

Stage 2: Disappointed, but Hopeful (Anger and Bargaining)

You've been in country long enough to notice the conspicuous absence of embassy helicopters.  I mean, people have to be breaking toes more often than this, right?  "But surely," you reason, "if something serious happened, they'd be all over it."  And hey, you receive their emails.  That's gotta count for something.  You even re-registered with the embassy when it became apparent that they'd lost your information.  They know all about you.  Still watching you, just a bit more distant than you first thought.  On the whole, it seems like you've got a solid enough relationship that they'd surely send someone down to help get you out of the country, if something like a war broke out.

Stage 3: Utter Despair (Depression)

There is no embassy helicopter.  And even if there is, the only people leaving in that are embassy personnel.  All is vanity.  They don't know you, and they don't pass sleepless nights watching over you.  Last week, in the middle of the crisis, they actually called you, which seemed hopeful, until they made it clear that they thought your city was in a completely different area of the country.  They then preceded to ask you what the security situation was locally.  "YOU, are asking ME?" you puzzle.  You begin to fully comprehend the reason for purchasing medical evac insurance--no embassy rescue for illness.  The embassy doesn't intervene until you are dead, and they need ship your body back across the ocean. (The grief process of realizing that med. evac insurance doesn't equal a helicopter ride will be the subject of another post altogether.  In brief, there are no helicopters.  Sorry.) You are utterly and completely alone. ON. YOUR. OWN.

Stage 4: Realistic Cooperation (Acceptance)

So you've accepted that your embassy has their limitations, and you even further acknowledge that keeping tabs on a bunch of rogues who've decided to LIVE in West Africa is a task more impossible than herding cats.  You learn that if you share your observations, they'll share theirs.  You know that you pretty much have to do your own thing in an emergency (which is actually how you like it), but that keeping in touch with the embassy is important.  When you consider all that they do diplomatically, you are very thankful for their presence.

So, you now know the road ahead of you in embassy relationships.  Whatever stage you find yourself in, let me offer some practical tips as you navigate the embassy waters.

1. Reading your embassy emails-- Whenever the embassy updates its travel recommendations, it sends out an email.  In the face of crisis or increasing tension, these emails will come more frequently.  In stage 1, you will pour over every word, and you will find yourself experiencing a mix of fear and confusion. Fear because they use phrases like, "evacuation of non-essential personnel" and that seems serious.  Confusion because all of these scary phrases are floating in a sea of words that seem so vague, and...well...diplomatic.  Nowhere does it say clearly, "LEAVE NOW" or "You'll be fine, just stay."  In stage 4, you'll be passed this.  You will read the emails like this: "Yada, yada, yada, legally obligated phrase, 2 important sentences, yada, yada, yada."  The 2 important sentences are what you are after, as they tell you the new observations that the embassy has made.  Factor that information into your own security plan, and you are on the right track.

2. Townhall meetings-- When the embassy needs to communicate more clearly with its constituency about current events, they'll call a townhall meeting.  While this feels like it should be something straight out of a Little House on the Prairie book, I've heard they aren't quite that exciting. (Though I heard that one time they served Oreos, and that would be WORTH IT! In all truth, I've never been to one since I don't live in the capital.  All this is just hearsay. ;-) )  From my understanding, the poor guy among the embassy staff who picks the short straw has to talk to all the citizens who've gathered, and he pretty much just repeats what the emails have said.  However, if someone you know goes to these and asks pointed questions, you often get some more details that are helpful.  And there is always the hope for Oreos.

3. Calling the embassy-- In stage 1, you call the embassy expecting to be greeted by a chipper fellow-citizen with a mid-west accent.  In the dire moments, you are actually hoping for a comforting, southern grandma to answer the phone, "Well, I'll be, darlin'! Bless your little heart, you really been through it!  I'll get you right over to the ambassador." (Ok, writing in accents has never been my thing...)  In stage 4, you know that your call will be answered by a national, and you'll either need to speak in French or deal with a very non-comforting accent.  Best case scenario, you get transferred to the voicemail of a fellow-citizen. 

4. Embassy text messages-- In moments of breaking news, the embassy sends out a broadcast message via text message. If your phone number has been properly registered, and it hasn't just fallen off the list by some whim, you'll receive a text with an update about the current situation.  In early stages of embassy relationship, this reinforces the notion that you are closely connected with your embassy.  It also adds a level of drama and excitement to current events.  Later stages tend to lose the excitement, as you know that half the time, due to the overload on the telecommunications company, the texts come in after someone has already alerted you.  On occasion, they come in late in the night, after you've seen the news and been asleep for a few hours.  They are great heads-up, when they work.

5. Embassy security language-- I've never seen the complete list of "embassy-speak" phrases, but I'm sure it is riveting reading.  In practice, you'll see a handful of phrases, the favorite being, "shelter in place."  While this undoubtedly conjures up images of turning out the lights and making blanket forts, or of bizarrely constructing lean-tos in your office, its real goal is to tell you to "stay inside" or "stay somewhere safe."  In other words, don't go out and wander around the city.  But as long as you heed those instructions, you are free to make blanket forts.  The upgrade for "shelter in place" is "duck and cover", which leaves no doubt about what you are to do.  It does, however, evoke one small question: In what scenario where ducking and covering would be necessary would you be reading the embassy text message or email before you are actually ducking and covering?

Prayer Requests

1.  Pray for the ongoing work in the village of Kokosso.  The district is hoping to return to continue to pray with and for people, as well as meeting with new believers.

2.  The district recently asked the village chiefs of two villages to grant them a house for pastors they'd like to place in those villages.  Pray that they would receive favorable responses from the leaders in Kougnou and Tiere.

3. A group of patients at the hospital, who are staying in our guest housing, have been meeting every day for prayer. (This includes Amadou, the young man we've prayed for several times here on the blog.) This is a big encouragement.  Pray that they would continue to grow in their faith and that they would be a real testimony to other patients.

Me with Amadou

4.  Our team is getting ready to go to a medical conference where we will get the necessary education hours to renew our medical/nursing licenses.  Pray that this would be a really refreshing time for everyone, and that in our absence the Lord would strengthen the rest of the hospital staff.