Friday, June 21, 2013

Moving Time!




It was almost a month ago when Douglas got the email from Group Headquarters that our next assignment would be Hanoi, Vietnam. We were absolutely shocked. 

In April we received a list of 13 countries that would be open for us to go to during our movement window. We were told to pick our top four choices. We had very little time to respond. So we started by crossing out the places we knew we did not want to go. The first country we crossed off was Hanoi, Vietnam. Funny, right? What’s even funnier is the reason why we crossed off Vietnam first. As soon as we read the word “Vietnam,” we thought of the war and figured we didn’t want to go there. Also, we had no particular desire to be in Asia. Our hearts were set on South America and Europe. We were also looking to go somewhere different than where we are now. 

The way the Marine Security Guard (MSG) program typically works is you have one hardship tour in a country that can be a bit challenging to live in and a non-hardship tour in a nicer country that is easier to live in. This is the ideal situation, but things do not always work out that way. Most everyone knows that Algiers is a third-world country and very fitting for a hardship post. Therefore, we only had our eyes on places that we knew were the opposite. However, Hanoi is also a third-world country and, on paper, ranks as another hardship post. 

Douglas called me at home to share the news. My phone rang and the first thing he said was, “Are you sitting down?” I thought to myself, this can’t be good. My jaw actually dropped when he said to me, “The list is out and we’re on it for Hanoi.” I think my immediate response was, “What?” (In my best Lil’ Jon voice.) Douglas and I began thinking about how we could possibly get this changed. I remembered the spouse who lived in Algiers before me said her husband got assigned another hardship post for his second tour. She said her husband got on the phone with the Region First Sergeant asking to be sent somewhere else. She said they fought for it and eventually their assignment was changed to a more favorable country that was completely opposite the lifestyle in Algiers. Immediately, I thought maybe Douglas and I should do the same thing. But first we wanted to get on the phone with the current Detachment Commander and spouse in Hanoi and get their perspective on life in Vietnam. After that we would decide if we still wanted to plead our case to the Region First Sergeant.

A day passed and I went to Douglas’ office telling him not to call Region. I thought back to the moment we found out we were moving to Algiers. I remembered all the negative things we assumed about the country. I remembered the negative feelings I heard from previous and current people stationed in Algiers. I remembered all the warnings people gave to us during the training that was provided for spouses before the Marines graduated the school. While I appreciated all the honest feedback, it was quite disheartening. But I did my very best to keep a positive attitude. Now, 16 months later, it has all worked out. Algiers is certainly not paradise, but it also wasn’t a death sentence as some claimed. Douglas and I have had many challenging experiences in Algiers, but those challenges have made us better people individually and made our marriage stronger as well. We have received exposure to another part of the world that some have never heard of before. We developed a new appreciation for everything we have in America that we often took for granted. I greatly improved my cooking skills and now have the ability and confidence to try to cook just about anything. And in such a short period of time we have had the opportunity to travel throughout Europe several times visiting Italy, Germany, Spain, and Portugal. Bad things can happen anywhere you go. But we are so blessed to have our good days outweigh our bad days; therefore, we cannot complain. You can place two people in the same environment and have them both walk away with two different experiences based on two different attitudes. That is my biggest lesson learned thus far on this program.

Using that approach, I applied those same feelings to Hanoi. I felt there was no reason why we should question where God assigns us to reside. Everything worked out in Algiers and I do believe everything will work out in Hanoi. So, we decided not to ask for another post. If Hanoi is where we are assigned then Hanoi is where we will be, unless God moves us. Douglas felt the same way and we proceeded with that new attitude.

As we began telling family and a few close friends, their responses were unexpected. The majority of people responded to our news with, “I’m so sorry to hear that” or “That sucks!” or “That’s terrible” or “Could they have given you any place worse?” or “Why Hanoi?” It was a good thing Douglas and I weren’t depressed about our new assignment because after telling those individuals they would have dang near pushed us over the edge. I thought to myself, “Shouldn’t family and close friends have more encouraging and positive responses?” And even if their feelings were justified, I still don’t believe you should express such negative views or reactions to the people who have to go live there. Such responses surely didn’t make us feel good. That is why I was so grateful that Douglas and I were already on a good page before we shared the news with everyone. Another lesson learned: don’t share your business with anyone until you have fully accepted the truth about that business yourself.

After thinking about it I realized that those same individuals, who responded in such a negative way, were only thinking the same thing we initially thought. It’s making an assumption about a place based on lack of knowledge about the place, which is toxic. Later, we decided to share the news with Americans who work at the embassy. Their responses were entirely opposite. People responded by saying things like, “You’re going to love it there!” or “It’s such a beautiful city” or “The beaches are gorgeous” or “You guys will be treated so well” or “You two are going to have a great time!” Now these are individuals who are familiar with Hanoi because they know people who were stationed there, or they were stationed there themselves, or they have travelled to cities and countries in that area. They all gave informed opinions because they had the knowledge and/or experience to back up their responses.

That experience in sharing our news with others taught me that so many of us are misinformed about life outside of America. I say us because I include Douglas and me in that description. This is all the more reason why I’m so happy we are going to Hanoi. We can learn the culture of the city and share our experiences in that country and continent with others. Hopefully, through our stories, we can paint a different picture in the minds of ourselves and others on what we see when we hear Vietnam. Some aspects of education aren’t found in books or on the internet. Some of the best education comes from living the experiences that are often only read about.

Ready or not, Vietnam, here we come!

Sunday, June 16, 2013

Dear Dad,



I dialed your number this morning and you didn’t answer. I’ve checked my voicemails and no messages from you. I miss you. Since I can’t talk to you like usual right now I’m writing you this letter to read when you return. I’ve been reminiscing about some good times we shared and the ways you expressed your love for me. 


Dad, I remember when I was a little girl we often walked to 161st and you bought me cherry icees from the Pizza Shop. Those were my favorite. I was in Harlem the other day and ate one, thinking of you.

I remember you often taking me and my friends to Radio City Music Hall to see Disney on Ice or Madison Square Garden to the Circus. You bought us so many treats and souvenirs.

I remember when I was younger you took me and my friends strawberry picking in Connecticut every year. We always ate more than we picked. We had such a good time.

I remember you picking me and my friends up from Parkway Elementary School and driving us to both Eric and Jerry’s basketball games. You were so excited anytime Jerry and Eric held the ball or scored a point. The pride you had for them was written all over your face.

I remember you taking me with you to work at Metropolitan Hospital and Beth Israel Medical Center on the weekends or during the summer. You introduced me to anyone that crossed your path, even the people who cleaned the building. You knew everyone and made sure they knew me. You showed me off as your prize possession, introducing me as your baby.

When I got my learner’s permit I remember you teaching me how to drive. I knew if I could drive that LTD Crown Victoria I could drive anything. I can still hear your great words of advice, “When driving on the road, you have to drive for others as well as yourself.”   

I remember you driving that LTD Crown Victoria to take us on family summer trips down south. Again, you showed me off to all the relatives, exclaiming that I was your baby. I looked at a picture the other day where I was sitting in your lap and you were so happy to hold me.

Growing up I remember you always going into the money can, voluntarily giving me cash, just to have extra in my pocket. You gave money so generously. And not just to your children, but to several of your relatives and friends. Dad, I recently learned that in your younger days you put a few relatives through school, paying for their college education. I also learned that you took time off work to provide transportation to and from the hospital for your mother to receive treatments when she was sick. You were always there for me, but I never knew how much you were also there for so many others throughout your entire life.

Dad, I’ve always admired your high level of intelligence. You’re great with numbers and I’m not sure if there are any facts about history that you do not know. Your memory is amazing. It seemed like you didn’t forget anything. I can hear you now telling me, “Go get a pen and paper and write this down.” To this day, I never leave the house without a pen and paper in my purse.

Dad, I remember when I told you I was engaged to a man from Charleston, South Carolina, like you. You were so excited about Douglas. And when you found out he was a Marine, you were elated. I remember you constantly telling me, as well as him, that you were in our corner. You always did support our endeavors, never once discouraging us but always encouraging us to move forward with our desires.

Dad, I remember when you started to get sick and could no longer leave the house. I know how much you missed walking. I believe I got my love of walking from you. Dad you never complained about being sick or about life in general. At the time I didn’t understand how you could be so happy while you were so ill. But now I know it’s because instead of focusing on your ailments, you chose to focus on your ability to see Another Day, Another Sunrise. I get it now. I get it.

Dad, it’s been so great to reminisce on all the wonderful things you have done for me and for others. I know I’ve already thanked you many times, but I just have to say it again, thank you. I know I’ve already told you many times that I love you but I just have to say it again, I love you. And I know I’ve already told you numerous times that I miss you but I just have to tell you again, I miss you.

Dad my intention was for you to read this letter when you returned. But God just spoke to me and said that you’re right next to Him, reading this letter with the biggest smile you’ve ever had on your face. I should have known that’s where you were. I know in Heaven is where you now belong. Your work here is complete. I take great comfort in knowing that you’ll forever be watching over me from up above, cheering me on as you’ve always done. I’ll now say to you what you’ve always said to me, “Enjoy yourself. Be happy. And I’ll always be in your corner.”

Love your baby,
Nicky

Even when I didn't feel pretty, you always told me I was beautiful.


There goes that Bright smile


 Your DD214 form and dog tags were found. You got the military honors that you so deserved.


                                                                    Dad, may you forever Rest in Peace

                                                                               Jerome Bright 
                                                                March 5, 1941 - June 1, 2013