Eclipse

I've been in Bangkok this week for a regional conference on environment, science, technology, and health (ESTH) issues.  As such conferences go, it was not a bad one; there was reason to escape from Astana for a few days.  Add to that the escape from winter to the tropical climate of Thailand, and it was not a bad few days even if I saw little other than my hotel room and the conference hall.  Well, add to that the first massage I have had in years.  In fact, make that two.  The first one on the evening of my arrival was so good that I had to go back for another on my last night.


Due to flight schedules, I actually arrived in Bangkok Monday evening, March 7, even though the conference itself did not begin until Wednesday.  That meant I had a day to luxuriate without a care.  I've been in Bangkok before such that I was not intent on spending the day as a tourist.  Rather, like any sane woman who has spent her winter as an icicle in Astana, I went shopping, finally finding those hair care and other products that are not be be found on the steppe and that can not be shipped through the diplomatic pouch.  Just sipping coffee in the shopping mall with no particular schedule to keep was a mini-holiday.


A partial solar eclipse on March 9 was an added bonus.  A friend at home in the US reminded me of it; otherwise I might have missed it altogether.  The eclipse was only 40% in Bangkok -- one would have had to travel further south to Indonesia to see it total -- but there it was, the Sun clearly reduced to a thick sickle as it rose on Wednesday morning.  I took a minute to watch it through mylar glasses before running on to my conference.


Partial eclipse.  That's a rather apt description of my life in Central Asia.  A Washington colleague asked me during an evening happy hour how the assignment in Astana has been going.  I answered, “Professionally it's wonderful.”  Then, lubricated by the first margarita I had tasted in a couple of years at least, I blurted, “But personally it's been a disaster.”

That blurted admission also explains why, other than overwork, I have written so little here.  As Thumper says to Bambi, “If you can't say something nice . . . don't say nothing at all.”  

Yet, with apologies to Shakespeare and John Steinbeck, this has been my winter of discontent.  I've already listed the reasons in The Last Thing on My Mind; repeating them here would just be tedious and tiresome.  Yet, I do need to say plainly one thing I only implied last October: 

No single or divorced woman born when Eisenhower was President should accept an assignment as an FSO in Astana.  

She might be OK if she's committed to living in a monastery as far as intimate personal life is concerned, but for the rest of us, Astana is a disaster.  Hear my warning written here in black and white:

• If you had an intimate relationship before leaving the US, it will not survive the eleven time zone separation;
• If you fall in love while on R&R at home in the US, you will awaken one frigid winter morning in Astana to find it was an illusion no matter how passionate your words expressed across time zones may have been;
• You will find no eligible men among the expats in Astana, and local men will see you as official, foreign, and unapproachable;
• If you, a 20th century woman, take the plunge of trying OKCupid, you will receive a quick 21st century introduction to the art of the romance spam . . . with some spammers being more sophisticated than you might imagine.  After all, who but a spammer would engage with a woman on a dating site who is looking for a date on her next R&R to the States that is still months away?  Also, you will wonder why so many guys listed on hikersingles.com seem to have only the faintest interest in hiking.

Have I made myself clear?  Do not come to Astana unless you are prepared to be alone, for that is what you will be.

Having finished my rant, I hasten to add that all the mitigating circumstances I listed in The Last Thing on My Mind still apply.  Of these, the most important is friends.  The nature of my work is such that my network is smaller in Astana than it has been at previous posts, but it is those close friends, in particular NN, EU, BL, and ET who have seen me through the isolation and hard times.  Also, although work involves the usual overwhelming mix of competing State Department priorities, I have now been in Astana long enough to see that I have and am making a difference.

An Earlier Total Solar Eclipse in My Life:  March 7, 1970

I quietly passed the midpoint of my three-year assignment to Astana in early March.  If my Astana assignment has been an eclipse, then it has been a partial one much like the 40% eclipse in Bangkok this week, not the total eclipse that applied to much of my early life.  I'm in the dark umbral shadow as far as the intimate life is concerned, but the warming rays of friendship pull me through.  And just as the Moon moves on, uncovering the Sun, so too will this Astana assignment move into history.  I've reached deepest eclipse.  Personal life, intimate personal life included, will get better.  With some luck the long, frigid Astana winters will help preserve my youthful looks for another year.

And so, if you should happen to know of an eligible bachelor who is willing to wait through the time and distance for just another year and a bit, here's my personal ad:

A Hiking, Biking, Snowshoeing U.S. Foreign Service Officer, Temporarily in Kazakhstan but Hailing from Maine, seeks a life partner who --

• Has a pulse. 

• Loves the outdoors.  Doesn't have to be a fanatic but must enjoy hiking, backpacking, showshoeing, cross country skiing, kayaking, bicycling, and/or canoeing.

• Loves mountains and the state of Maine.

• Loves the night sky far from city lights; thinks that viewing the August 2017 total solar eclipse from somewhere near Yellowstone is a neat idea.

• Has a passport and likes to travel . . . perhaps even to Central Asia?

• Wants to visit as many of our U.S. national parks as possible.

• Is politically a left-of-center liberal Democrat, perhaps even a European-style socialist.  

• Likes Pete Seger, folk music, folk festivals, and the singer-songwriter tradition that started in the 50s & 60s.

• Believes in the power of words and letters to keep a relationship alive at a distance.

March 13 in Astana:  Spring Coming Soon?

End of rant.  Promise.  Spring will come to Astana, and this partial eclipse will have its end.

Meanwhile, to my Circle of Friends, I offer the following song by one of my favorite singers, Mary McCaslin, in tribute and thanks.  Mary's words apply.  Without my Circle of Friends, I would have curtailed and packed out of here months ago.