The Foreign Service Journal, October 2011

O C T O B E R 2 0 1 1 / F O R E I G N S E R V I C E J O U R N A L 51 ll Office Management Specialists must obtain a 2/2 in a language as part of our Career Development Plan. But with so few language-designated positions for OMSs in “difficult language” coun- tries, we rarely get an opportunity to spend lengthy periods at the Foreign Service Institute like our generalist counterparts. That leaves the Post Language Program as our only employer-sponsored option. It’s tough to learn any language by being taught only two to four hours a week compared to FSI’s full-time program, and particularly a language as complex as the one I chose to pursue: Russian. While that one is not as difficult as some others, it still poses a challenge for someone who, like me, is mediocre at languages. Why did I choose Russian? First, because I relish a chal- lenge, though it turned out to be even more difficult than I’d anticipated. (Whatever guilt complex factored into the choice, I’ve definitely gotten over it!) In addition, I wanted to crack the code of a culture that has produced some of the world’s greatest art, literature and music, and whose people have suffered desperately while doing so. But perhaps most importantly, I had been briefly exposed to Russian as a teenager back in 1979, when my high school offered a trip to Moscow and Leningrad as a mini-course. Under the omnipotent supervision of Sisters Michaeline and DeLourdes (Miss Michaeline and Miss DeLourdes, as we were instructed to call them while there), about 30 of us traipsed around Russia, absorbing its culture and history. We also picked up some useful vocabulary, such as ‘boy,’ ‘I love you’ and ‘ice cream’ — a clear illustration of our priorities as teenage girls. And So It Begins I embarked upon my Russian-language adventure as soon as I arrived in Kyiv in 2007. For the first year, the post would only cover two hours of instruction a week, which in my ig- norance I thought would be adequate. I had high expectations because I already knew the alpha- bet (things you learn as a youth have a tendency to stick). So I began the torturously slow process of building vocabulary with my teacher, Natasha, a serious young woman with shock- ing magenta hair. Two days a week I would receive the ‘Natasha-call’ from the front gate: “Marrrsha—eez time for klahss.” I so wanted her to say, “Keel moose and squeeerill,” but, sadly, she never did. Natasha taught me about jolting Slavic directness: “Mar- rrsha, what you did to your hair. Why you cut it — it lukes ter- rible. ” Questions were statements, not really questions. I also learned that the Slavic soul can be difficult to reach at first: Me: So, Natasha, tell me about your family. D ICK AND J ANE IN U KRAINE L EARNING A FOREIGN LANGUAGE PROVES TO BE AN EVEN GREATER ADVENTURE THAN ONE F OREIGN S ERVICE STUDENT BARGAINS FOR . B Y M ARSHA P HILIPAK -C HAMBERS Marsha Philipak-Chambers, an Office Management Special- ist, entered the Foreign Service in 2005. She recently com- pleted a four-year tour as OMS to the deputy chief of mission in Kyiv, and is now serving in Tallinn. A