My time has come, and I have safely departed Sanaa. It has been
an interesting ride, with a lot of ups and downs, but the experience
was certainly unique. I've made a lot of friends, and I hope that you'll
all stay in touch. The memories will last a lifetime.
So this is the part where I'd usually invite
everyone to come visit in Madrid. Except . . . I was informed December
31 by my Career Development Officer (yes, it's a thing, and no, despite the name, they do not care much about your career's development) that my
assignment to Madrid has been broken. The delay in telling everyone was partly to keep my goodbyes to all the staff in Sanaa from being "I'm so sorry to hear that"; we've had too good of memories to have it end like that. I also wanted to keep this post from being a "I'm entitled to perfection" post, but now that I've received the alternatives to Madrid, I'm more okay with this being a whiny vent.
In the place of Madrid they've offered me the sludge at the bottom of the bidding cycle they couldn't give away last month. Disillusionment, which steadily builds in those who spend time in Yemen, is now on the rise rather than the wane. I'm finding out if there's any
recourse on the whole thing, but I won't know for a week or two what the
outcomes will be, or for that matter, where I'm going. I still have
home leave scheduled, and that seems to be remaining intact, though this news has cast something of a shadow on it.
It's fitting that this happen on December 31 . . .
there was really nothing left for my employer to take away from me that
they haven't already taken this year. But there you have it. So here's
to you, HR, for this remarkable finale. The ironic, albeit more serious, verses of Wilfred Owen spring to mind:
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest,
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie - Dulce et Decorum Est
Pro Patria Mori.
If any of you know of a good job opening or master's program, do leave a comment.
The Palacio Real seems so far away now . . . |