Confessions of a (Very) Young Diplomat

Cairo, Egypt (Lotus Building of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs appears on the left)

I am a young diplomat. A very young diplomat. In fact, I am only beginning my career, and this is during a harsh transitional period of my country's history. Things are changing. They are changing fast. People, too, are changing. The whole scene is unbelievably unstable... even on a personal level!

     I recently got posted to our Embassy in Guatemala. I am supposed to begin working there at the beginning of August. They speak Spanish over there, and I am quite excited to repeat the experience I have lived in Spain. I cannot wait to be talking to people on the street, in the supermarket, at the gym, on the bus... in their own language. I am looking forward to overhearing hilarious conversations about silly partners and funny jokes. I would like to listen to the local news and participate in debates. I want to visit every single inch of that country, see all its Mayan monuments and take a tan in every single beach, and bathe both at the Pacific Ocean and at the Caribbean. I will learn how to dance all the beautiful Latin dances, and if I can, I want to take guitar lessons. I want to live, to work, to meet important people, to walk the streets, to go out with friends. I guess I am looking forward to the new adventure.

     Nevertheless, even though I have had several adventures before, this time is different. This time I am alone. I will be thousands of kilometers away. I will be fully responsible for my work, for my job, for my house, for my entire life. Guatemala seems to be a pretty challenging place. I understand things will not be as easy and laid back as they were in Spain. Life will not be free of responsibilities as it was in the US. It will not consist of endless road trips as it did in Denmark, or political research like it was in Czech Republic. And it certainly will not be filled with drives up the mountains and dinners among the clouds like Lebanon.

Guatemala City, Guatemala

     Allow me to be frank: I am scared to death!

     My job is not just a means for earning a living. My job is -or at least, that's how I perceive it- to be a part of my country everywhere I go. My job is to be shy, yet sociable; abundant, yet simple; confident, yet humble; timid, yet friendly; beautiful, yet tough. My job is to be all those at once: to be my country as it is. In a way, I feel responsible, and I feel the responsibility is just huge! It is huge to the extent of intimidation!

     I am about to give three years of my life to my country, to go work for my country in a different, distant place on this planet. I will leave my best friends, my mother, my father, and my amazing brothers. I will be alone in Christmas and Easter, without my aunt shoving food down my throat and my grandma laughing at our selfie mania. I will not be here when my friends have their first baby. I will be without my aging dog, who might even die while I am there. I will not be here to say goodbye.

     I am about to put everything I have at the service of this mission: all I learned in my life, the languages I master, the politics and economics I studied, the gender and human rights issues I am so passionate about, and the few social skills I have. In brief, my past 26 years of life will serve these 3 years ahead of me. I will surely learn much, but first, I need to invest what I already have in order to enjoy the returns on investment.

     My idea is to represent this nation, my nation. To work for the people, even if my contribution will only be a drop in the ocean. It is still considered water, right? Without my little work, one brick will be missing from that massive wall called "home".

     I am looking at three years of new things, people, and places. I am afraid and excited at the same time. I want to be up to everybody's expectations: my parents, my boss, my friends, the institution I am part of, and my extended family. I wish to be up to my own expectations and standards. I want to make myself proud and happy at the end of this period.

     I will need all the prayers and the support I can get, especially while I am there alone, sometimes counting the days to be back. I know what I want, but I will need assurance and compassion. I am embarking on a tough experience and I realize this. God, help!