Arrival to Jordan

Susan and I are finally in Jordan for my one year of ICT. We've been talking about it for so long that it's a bit surreal that it's finally here. We are very glad to be nearly done traveling and living out of suitcases, and Susan is especially excited to get to decorate our new home.

I'll write more about Jordan and our first few days in a later post, but I did want to get out two quick thoughts:

First, EVERYONE in Jordan smokes, and they smoke everywhere. Even in the 'non-smoking' airport. Smoking was very prevalent in Korea, much more so than the US, but nothing like it is here in Jordan. I realize that I've been taking the lack of smoke in the US for granted, and the fact that smokers actually follow the posted rules and use the designated smoking areas.

Second, I've noticed a distinct lack of culture shock here. Maybe it's because I've already been to Iraq, and I know what a Middle Eastern country looks and feels like. Maybe it's because I've been around the language and culture for a year at DLI, and so it doesn't really feel 'foreign'. Either way, it adds up to an underwhelming arrival here, which isn't nessecarly a bad thing. Instead of being surprised or awed by the fact I'm in the Middle East, I can get right down to improving my language and engaging with the culture and issues here in Jordan...and learn how to do my job.

How Did This Happen...It's Over!

Well, that's it. I have finished everything here at DLI. The DLPT is over and done, and I successfully navigated it with a L2+/R2/S2 - very respectable scores, if I may say. Even more when I think that I did it in a 50-week short course. Now I just have to outprocess and attend the graduation. Susan and I have a long cross-country vacation planned (again!), but this time we're taking it a bit slower. We'll actually get to stop in the Grand Canyon this time, as well as take the opportunity to ride Amtrak from Texas to Pennsylvania. I'm really looking forward to the slower pace of travel on the train.

All in all, my DLI experience was a positive one. Despite the down days that felt like the program would never improve and never end, it is pretty cool to be able to say 'I speak Arabic'. I am looking forward to putting my language to use overseas. I just hope I don't lose it all while I'm on leave!

Listening Down...Reading To Go

Well, today was the listening portion of my DLPT. It was a huge departure from the first time I took it, as I felt good afterward. I didn't feel that the test was the same test of Arabic endurance which characterized my practice attempt. Maybe I'm just that much more comfortable with Arabic, but I finished it in just over two hours, and did not feel the slightest bit fatigued.

Tomorrow's the reading test, and I just have to trust that I've prepared sufficiently for it. I hedged my studying to favor the reading, eschewing any listening practice. I hope that it pays off with some speed and fluency to my reading tomorrow.

The End is Nigh

Unbelievably, tomorrow, I take the first half of my final Defense Language Aptitude Test (DLPT). The long year of study at DLI is nearly over. Last week I took my Oral Proficiency Interview (OPI), which determines my skill at speaking Arabic. I was nervous, but overall confident, going in. I was very pleased with how I did, and no matter what the grade, I feel that I can speak Arabic at a good level - certainly good enough for day to day interactions, and probably good enough to hold my own in educated company.

This past week, and all throughout the weekend, I have been prepping for actual DLPT tests this week. I have been concentrating on my reading skill, as I read excruciatingly slowly, and the reading test is an exercise in stamina and reading speed. The passages are so long, and there are so many of them, that you have to have a good tempo to your reading, or else you won't finish all of the passages. I don't have the same anxiety for tomorrow's listening test - you hit play, listen to the passage, pick an answer and move on. Reading, however, is entirely dependent on how fast you can read, thus more difficult for me. Hopefully it's been enough.

I'm heading to be early tonight - a good night's sleep is the last weapon I can add to my arsenal.

Fertility Closure

Today Susan and I received final closure to the question of our fertility or infertility. We drove up to Salinas so that she could undergo a hysterosalpingogram, which is a really long word that means a doctor used dye and an x-ray to check her fallopian tubes for blockages. It was a very fast procedure, taking just a few minutes, and everything checked out fine. Her tubes are as open as can be.

This was both a huge relief for me as well as a slight disappointment. It was a relief to have the procedure done, as it was the final thing that we were comfortable doing in order to investigate our infertility. I am glad to have the confirmation that there's nothing physically wrong with either of us, but the lack of a clear cut answer frustrates my analytical, problem-solving mind. After the test I realized that I had been unconsciously hoping that there would have been a slight blockage, and that the force of the dye would have cleaned it out, thus leaving her tube open. At least that scenario would have given a logical (albeit, human) explanation to why we are childless. Now we're in the frustratingly named category of "unexplained infertility".

Of course, this doesn't really affect anything that we've already decided to pursue, namely adoption. It just puts our minds at ease that we're okay physically and it really forces us to trust that God has something else in store for us, and we'll find out what that is when He's ready to show us. Now I need to live up to my commitment to Susan to read up on the adoption procedure so that we are actually making progress toward that end. She's felt constricted and limited in what she can read and research without a reciprocal effort from me. I don't intentionally hold her back, it's just that with everything else going on this year, I haven't prioritized our self-imposed weekly reading assignments. As we wind down the Arabic course and the homework requirements decrease, I need to ensure I take care of Susan's heart and fulfill my promises.

The End Of The Journey

Battlestar Galactica (BSG) reached the end of its four season run this past weekend, and Susan and I thoroughly enjoyed the finale. We'd never seen the show prior to this year, and I was a little hesitant to get into it - though I did have a suspicion that if I watched it, I would like it. I grew up loving the original BSG (now apparently called BSG Classic), and was hopeful that the updated series would treat my childhood memories kindly.

Well, thanks to the power of DVDs and some generous friends, we watched all of the episodes we had missed, often in weekend long binges, and were 'caught up' to the final season by episode 12. This allowed us to be fully part of the community as the show ramped up to it's climactic finish.

I've read a good deal online regarding the fan community's dissatisfaction with the final episode, but, barring the incongruous MSNBC robotics montage, I was thoroughly satisfied with the finale. From a science-fiction perspective, the story did leave a little to be desired, but that wasn't the point. True, they did 'tie up' some loose ends (taking the easy way out, literally, with Starbuck) and eliminate any possibility of sequels...but, and most importantly, they also allowed us, as fans, to properly say good-bye to these friends with whom we'd traveled the stars for so long.

Through the run of the show, and without even realizing it fully until it was over, I began to think of these characters as family and friends. I'm glad that they finally were able to live their lives in peace, and in a manner that they chose, after running for so long. Thanks to the writers for giving us a touching, but not melodramatic, farewell to the crew of the Galactica and rag-tag fleet that followed them.

So say we all.

Total Collapse

Today I experienced something that has been building for some time, and I was afraid would eventually happen. I reached a point of complete emotional overload, and I had an Arabic collapse. The signs have been present for Susan and me over the past week: From Susan's need for a mental health day last week, to our second instance of skipping first hour, we felt that this was on the horizon.

It came, and when it did, it hit me full force. The overwhelming feeling of just barely keeping myself afloat amidst the insane pace of the course bore down on me and I fell apart. I found myself physically unable to read a passage during third hour today. My eyes glossed over the first paragraph, then they simply ceased to function. I had a sickening feeling in my stomach, as though the characters of the Arabic alphabet were making me ill. I later came to the point of tears while talking to Susan, going through the unhealthy "what if" cycle. What if I'd gotten out of the Army? What if I'd refused assignment to the Middle East? What if I asked to leave the FAO program and return to the Artillery?

These feelings caused further frustration when our lead teacher pulled Susan and I aside and had a talk with us, wondering where we were in the morning, and why we were in such foul, non-participatory moods during class. I was (to Susan's utter surprise) completely honest, which, in retrospect, was probably the wrong thing to do. I should have been more tactful, since my comments can be summarized as: "I lived in Korea for a really long time and wanted to learn an Asian language; your language and culture suck".

Granted, I wasn't that blunt, but you get the idea.

She attempted to encourage me, telling me that I am a great student and am learning the language to a good level of proficiency. That was very kind of her, but, as a foreigner, it's impossible for her to understand what I'm going though. Learning Arabic, in and of itself, has never been an issue for me. I enjoy the academic challenge of it, and it is pretty cool to be able to say that I speak Arabic. The tough part is what happens next: spending the next 11+ years of my life focused on and living in the Middle East, a region of the world that holds zero appeal for me.

Susan and I talked it over a lot, and I think we've made peace with what we're doing. I think that the stress of wanting to do well, knowing what I have to do in order to do well, but not having enough time to do those things finally caught up to me after nine months. I am extremely blessed to have such a great wife and partner like her to snap me out of the 'language pit' days.