GIVE ME AN "A"!...GIVE ME AN "M"!...GIVE ME AN "M"!

My, my, how time flies. Has it already been a year since the last ASEAN Ministerial Meeting (AMM)? Seems like just yesterday I was sneaking off and hunting down VNC shoes for the LLDDL in Kuala Lumpur (actually, it was just yesterday that I was sneaking off and hunting VNC down shoes for the LLDDL! Only in Glorietta instead of Suria. eh. The places look alike anyway).

So our turn as chairman of ASEAN is finally coming to an end, and we want to leave on a high note. The Cebu Summit last January went well enough for me, but there’ll always be those who’ll choose to remember the typhoon and postponement instead. Whatever. All we know is, this time, we have a bigger headstart, the thing is in our homecourt, and – honestly - after Cebu, is there anything that can take us by surprise anymore?

In a word: No.

This time around, everyone goes about their business with a veteran’s confidence and swagger. The number of visiting country delegations is almost double that of Cebu, but we have a lot more time and space to work with, most facilities are already in place, and people already instinctively know what to do, where to go, and who to turn to. In fact, preparations are so far along, some people talk as if they actually miss the challenges of Cebu, like Grandpa Simpson going on one of his rambles. “What’s that? Your laptop just lost its wi-fi? Let me tell you, in Cebu, we didn’t NEED wi-fi! We walked five miles through the snow to get to the highest tree and signal the next island to crank up the dial-up connection of their UNIVAC! You people are a bunch of babies! I'm going to take a nap...”

Well, grandpa, if there was a “ready-or-not, here they come” feel to things in Cebu, we got a “let’s get this party started” vibe going on right now. So let’s DO get this party started, ‘cause before you know it, it will be ASEAN Summit time all over again.

And Ka-Ching!apore TM has rehearsals scheduled for Monday.

Team Building

I got drafted for Liaison Officer duty again this conference, and I couldn't have been happier. I had a blast being an LO in Cebu, and the organizers were so far advanced in their preparations this time around that all the other LOs arrived from around the world a fulll month ahead of the event, and we actually had time for a team building/seminar weekend. Now I'm usually against working on Saturdays and Sundays, but a catered lunch is a catered lunch. So bond, LOs, BOND!

Day One of Team Building. As you can see, we reported to training camp slightly out of shape.


(WARNING: SHAMELESS MATT DAMON REFERENCE AHEAD) With all the laptops and floor plans lying around, the place had the feel of an Oceans Eleven caper.


A hilarious communication exercise. The LOs were divided into two groups, about 15 a side. A figure would be flashed to the first LO, who had to draw it in 10 seconds. He then would flash his drawing to to the second LO, who had to make his own drawing to be flashed to the next LO, and so forth. No one could talk or show their drawings to anyone else. If you zoom in to the picture above, you'll see the original figure was an owl. By the fourth drawing, the figure had somehow become a stick-figure horse. By the ninth drawing onwards, the figure was cross between an insomniac bunny and Casper the ghost.


An indispensable part of every team-building, the cheering contest. Our group's cheer was to spell AMM and then chant it like a Buddhist mantra (you had to be there). The group above started strong, but for some reason finished with "The Spaghetti Song" by the Sex Bomb Dancers. If only our principals knew.

Convoy Dry Runs

Oh GOD, those dry runs. They'd go on until 4am, include briefings/debriefings that would last three times as long as the run itself, and have enough glitches to make Murphy smile. Still, it was all worth it in the end, as all VIPs got around safely and (generally) on time.

One thing you can say about Manila motorists, they all go through a 4-step thought process as a convoy approaches: 1) Pretend I don't hear the convoy, therefore the convoy does not exist; 2) Yeah, yeah, yeah, I hear your sirens, but you're probably just some local low-level bureaucrat with bootleg sirens on a joyride/power trip. I'm staying right here in my lane; 3) Oh crap! At least six police motorcycles and cars in my rear-view mirror, all with blaring sirens. You're not fracking around, are you?!; and 4) I will now turn 90 degrees into the next lane, regardless of other cars that may already be there.

Whole process takes about a minute.

(Cebu drivers, on the other hand, were far more efficient: 1) I will freeze in sheer terror and keep a deathgrip on my steering wheel at the sound of the approaching sirens for 10 seconds; and 2) I will now turn 90 degrees into the next lane, regardless of other cars that may already be there)

So what goes in a convoy dry run? First, take a batch of LOs and make them stew overnight (literally) . . .


...add a dash of VIP chauffeurs...


...and coat with a whole lot of men in blue...er...green...er...teal...(damn you, available light setting!)


A dry run doesn't end with the convoy run itself. There's still a debriefing afterwards that can stretch for hours. The debriefing above was held past 12am (there was some comedy relief, though, right after this picture was taken, as one LO came in late, saw all the other LOs seated at the table, then started shouting "Alright! It's midnight! Let's party!". When he didn't get a reaction, he shouted even louder "LET'S PARTY!". What he didn't realize was that no one was reacting because The Boss was already seated at the table but couldn't be seen by the shouting LO. The Boss was not amused.


Game time. Where those long hours pay off. VIP Convoys know the drill by now, it's the additional delegates that have to keep up with us. (speaking of which, I always thought whenever we'd travel abroad that ours was the only delegation that frantically looked around for their car seats. As this picture of another delegation shows, everybody does it like a Chinese Fire Drill. phew)

PICC

I'm on record as saying foreign delegations will remember a beachfront resort more than a generic convention center. That may still be true, but from an organizer's point of view, it was sheer joy to have so much space to play around with in the PICC. No more eating off floors, no more tables jammed against your chest when you sit, no more sexual harassment lawsuits from the constant bumping into one another in hallways. Honestly, when we first walked through the place, I wanted to run around like Macauley Culkin in "Home Alone".

On the flipside, the convention center was so large it took forever to get from one side to another, and you ended up talking yourself out of going places you needed to go. Does my delegation REALLY need to be at Meeting Room 14 to sign that treaty? Can't we just text or YM or something? And, strangely, for all that space, they didn't set up a gift bazaar like they did in Cebu. I mean, where were we supposed to get our dried mango fix?

So memo to Ka-ching!apore TM: get that large (but not too large) convention center with gift bazaar on a beach resort put up, stat. It's the only way I'll be truly happy.

Not quite the Cebu beach view, but not bad.

With its speckled gray concrete, wood and chrome trimming, heavy upholstered furniture, and what I can only describe as disco entrance lighting, lower PICC had a VERY dated feel to it . . .

...but would time warp into modern-day as you went to the higher floors. It was like one of those those New York dance clubs that play 70s music on the ground floor, 80s on the second, etc.


This time around, we got a big-ass secretariat, complete with...


...individual sub-committee rooms (here we see the ever popular gifts sub-committee), each with with a garden view...


... staff dining area (a big hit) ...


...and - this is very important - LO workstation and conference area (just pardon the mess).


Despite the much larger number of visiting country delegations, everyone got a bigger country room. The blown-up photos of Philippine scenery was a nice touch carried over from Cebu.

In Cebu Shangri-La, there were only two dedicated bilateral rooms for the entire Summit. Needless to state, confirmed time slots became valuable commodities to Delegations and LOs alike. In PICC, on the other hand, we had all the rooms we wanted (with Philippine backdrops to boot!). The only problem was that we had the same number of people handling bilaterals as in Cebu. This made for some funny scenes of officers and staff scurrying around all the rooms with flags, chairs and other materials in between meetings.

PICC also had really well-dressed ushers. You couldn't ask for directions to the men's room without them breaking out into song and dance = )

Gala

I got really mixed feelings here. On the one hand, something like 80% of this gala was a repeat of the Cebu gala, right down to stage design, dance steps and narrator's script (I guess they thought if it killed in Cebu, it should kill here, too).

On the other hand, this gala included numbers from the country delegations, and there are few things more entertaining than diplomats taken out of their comfort zone and made to sing and dance.

The fun actually started weeks in advance when the country representatives first met with the show's producers and tried to work out the details of the gala coverage. Some countries expressed no reservations as to media recording the event - heck, some of them wanted their number broadcast live to their country - while others defended their performance's privacy with the intensity of a state secret.

Come showtime, the country delegations did themselves proud. You could see some nervousness on some of the performers faces, but they all gamely pushed on, and the audience loved them for it.

(well, there was this one country that hired professional singers to perform for them, which is kinda like a boss paying his secretary to buy his wife's birthday gift)

Anyway, on with the show.

During the first meeting between the Producers of the Gala and the Delegation representatives, the Director of the show hyped the wrap-around video screen backdrop, the high-tech lighting and cameras, the full musical backups and the other bells and whistles. Instead of being reassured, all the big production talk apparently gave some of delegations stage fright. Others, however, were legitimately giddy to be part of a such a big performance. Either way, they all took pictures of the stage mock-up for sending back home. Diplomats need to get ready for their close-up too, you know!

Gala night. All the pageantry of an awards show, except no one yells "Who are you wearing?". The LOs bring the VIPs up to the lobby entrance, where they are met by the Hosts (above), then are quickly shown to a holding room. What you don't see is the LOs frantically running - in formal wear - behind the horde of cameras and skipping over an obstacle course of cables and cameras to meet up in time with the VIPs at the holding room entrance. You could set the scene to Benny Hill music.

State University Singing Ambassadors at the back, ASEAN (real-life) Singing Foreign Ministers up front. See how it all comes together? I'd give Ebert-like reviews for the rest of the country performances, but lest I reveal a state secret, check out this article instead.

Finally, the show ended as it did in Cebu, with a "Rock Icon" belting out his ASEAN song. The LLDD's bro-in-law gives it a solid 9 on the Unintentional Comedy Scale.

The Money Shot

So here's the situation: as is custom, all the VIPs had a group photo scheduled during the event. For the AMM, the photo op was supposed to take place on the last day, after a lunch meeting on the 4th floor, and on the ground floor red carpet staircase on the other side of PICC that led to the venue for the final meeting and closing ceremonies. The Organizers were well set-up for this.

Turns out, however, about three VIPs had flights to catch and planned to leave even before the lunch meeting. So now we had a problem. If we held the photo-op after lunch as planned, at least three VIPs would be missing from the picture. On the other hand, it would take too much time to bring everyone down right before lunch to the photo-shoot venue at the other side of PICC, and then bring them all the way back up to the site of the lunch meeting.

So a spot decision was made. Hold the group photo before the lunch meeting, but instead of bringing everyone all the way down, take the shot on the roofdeck just outside the lunch meeting room (I actually had the same idea, but was too shy to speak up; damn you social anxiety disorder!). The only thing was, we were not set up for this scenario, the roofdeck was bare, and there were less than 30 minutes before the start of the lunch meeting.

This was turning into a lame half-episode of "24".

(blip...blip...blip...blip...blip blip blip blipblipblipblipblip)

(The following takes place between 12:30 and 12:40pm)

The location, stage, riser, carpet etc. were all set up from scratch in under 10 minutes. Pretty impressive, really.

(The following takes place between 12:40 and 12:45 pm)

To fix the blocking, framing and background, each LO stood in place of his VIP. We all had fun with the moment, knowing this would probably the only time official photographers would ever want to get a picture of us.

(The following takes place between 12:45 and 12:50 pm)

Afterwards, each LO got on his/her knees and taped his country name on the platform (glamorous, this LO life, no?).

(The following takes place between 12:50 and 12:55pm)

We actually finished with a few minutes to spare, so a couple of the LOs decided to stage some bilateral meetings of their own in the holding room.

(The following takes place between 12:55 and 1:00 pm)

And then faster than you can say "regulation of cheese and other dairy products", the VIPs were onstage and the media were happily clicking away. So all's well that ends well . . .

Well, not quite. It's not immediately noticeable, but there's actually one VIP missing from the picture. Seems this VIP decided to go to the men's room first and change into a barong. Meanwhile, all the other VIPs had already made their way to the photo-op stage and were ready and waiting in the sun. Everyone was frantically radioing the missing VIP's LO who, by stroke of bad luck, could not go into the men's room because . . . well . . she was not a man. By now, the media were snapping away and, since this was an outdoor lunchtime shoot, many of the VIPs were already visibly hot and hungry. Some VIPs tried to end the session by yelling "Thank you!" to the media and making a move for the door, but everyone was yelling back "Wait! Wait! Just one more!" The VIPs held back for a couple more seconds, and then finally broke ranks (above) just as the missing VIP was entering the door leading to the photo area. By then it was too late, all the VIPs were already heading towards the lunch meeting, and the LOs were debating the merits of Photoshop vs. Ulead.

LO Life

I'd like to think that all of us LOs were elite, hand-picked, specially trained diplomats trusted with the most difficult official duties. In truth, only about half the LOs were battled hardened veterans of Presidential Protocol specifically called-up for the event, while the rest of us I think were chosen because we had no typing skills.

In the end, though, we all bonded, learned from and covered for each other, and ultimately delivered. It was actually a bit poignant when the whole thing was over and we had to say goodbye and go back to our old assignments.

Man, if we ever got back together, we'd be kick-ass wedding planners!

Before anything else, an LO asks himself "WWJBD"?*

(*what would Jason Bourne do?)


Getting the convoy ready at the airport. Always a logistical and bureaucratic nightmare for an LO, but also good for an adrenalin rush when the principal pops out of the plane and then speeds away from the tarmac.

An endless, tiring LO chore: walking through the venues. This walk-through was well after midnight, and a few hours before the opening ceremony later that morning. You have to "eyeball" everything from seating arrangements to holding areas to men's rooms. And, yes, I used eyeball, seat, hold and men's room all in the same sentence.

Typical LO scene: all dressed up, standing outside the VIP meeting room with the other LOs, constantly looking at cellphones or listening to radios for the latest information from HQ.

Speaking of, special mention should be made of LOs and their radios. The radios are indispensable for tracking activities and operations, but are also an endless source of hilarity. In the first place, most everyone involved is a bureacurat with no military training or background, yet all become Jack Bauer wannabes the moment a radio is placed in their hands. Secondly, some of the radio communications, while necessary to the events, are decidedly . . . um . . . un-military in subject matter. Take for instance attire. No VIP ever wants to be odd-man-out and the only one under or overdressed to an activity, so they task the LOs to find out what everyone else is wearing. The radio exchanges go something like this (I'm not kidding):

LO 1: Break. Marlboro country, come in. This is Banana Republic.
LO 2: Go ahead Banana Republic.
LO 1: Will your VIP be wearing a barong or a suit?
LO 2: Standby . . . (pause) . . . he is wearing a suit.
LO 1: Copy that. Tie or no tie?
LO 2: Tie.
LO 1: 10-4. What color is the suit?
LO 2: Appears to be brown, may be beige. Smart casual. Will confirm.
LO 1: Tango Yankee.
LO 2: Break! Break! (in more urgent voice) VIP is taking off tie. Repeat, VIP is taking off tie! Will go with unbuttoned collar!
LO 3: Short break. This is Clay Nation. What's the menu for tonight?

And so on.

You may think all this is trivial, but its the sort of thing that gets you in the papers. (although I was told that the VIP invloved really chose to wear a barong becuase the event was at the Presidential Palace, and really didn't mind being the only one in the picture in white)


At the start of every meeting, media are allowed in for a few pictures, then are cleared out of the room. Some try to stay on by saying they're with so-and-so or they have super secret clearance. I enjoy clearing media out of a room, I really do =)


For the gala dinner, each LO was measured for a formal barong. Of the close to 30 LOs, less than half had barongs that actually fit. One of the lucky LOs celebrates above.

Long after everyone else has gone to bed, an LO stays up and works on the next day's scenarios.

And in the midst of all the chaos, the LOs manage to throw a surpirse birthday party for one of their own. The set-up: While all the VIPs were in a lunch meeting, the LOs gathered in their own dining area. The Boss (at right) summons the celebrant (at left) over the radio in a stern sounding voice. The celebrant comes rushing in, all nervous. The Boss stays in character and asks what the situation is with the celebrant's VIP. The celebrant now gets really worried, because he was not aware of any situation with his VIP (because, in fact, there was none). While the celebrant tries to gather himself, another LO sneaks behind with the cake, and then we all break out into song (that's my dorky voice you hear on the video). Another successful LO operation.

A Rewarding Experience

Whoever said work was its own reward never received a shiny medal. Us LOs of Foreign Ministers were really not expecting anything other than a pat on the back, but word spread that the Palace had invited everyone involved in the Summit and the AMM over for some sort of ceremony. This led to the existential question: "If an LO is part of a ceremony, does he protocol himself?".

Sure enough, there was a Presidential recognition program and citations were spread all around. You really are filled with pride when you first put the thing on, which you immediately replace with the anxious feeling of "Am I a dork for wearing a medal around my neck during cocktails?"

Whatever. I got mine, I hope others get theirs.

And the whole thing is finally over.

Mabuhi!

Neither rain nor sleet nor snow nor Supertyphoon "Egay" will keep an LO away from picking up his award at the Presidential Palace.


The handpicked LOs of leaders during the Summit get their awards from the President herself ...


... while the LLDD stands outside with his, ready to ride off into the sunset.

(or at least take the rented bus back to the office; it was raining pretty hard)

THANKS FOR THE MEMO-RY

My old boss at the embassy, the former ambassador, had a running gag with all of the officers -- his dry British humor way of getting on our case about constant work. Whenever he'd see any of us in an outside-of-the-office context, he'd ask about a fictitious memo he'd supposedly been waiting ages for.

If he'd notice us walking out to get lunch, he'd shout "Where's my memo?"

If he'd see any of us appear in a picture on facebook, he'd post "I'm still waiting for my memo" in the comments section.

If we were on the sidewalk and he'd pass by us in his car, he'd mime a piece of paper with his fingers and mouth through the window "Memo!"

He'd eventually get recalled to the Home Office a year after I did, and each and every time we'd run into each other in the driveway, elevator lobby or cafeteria, he'd still have just one thing to say to me: "Where's my memo?!"

Well...as you may have recently heard....

He finally got  THE MEMO!!!

An warm official welcome ensued, and then it was straight back to business for all

psh...I knew him before he was mainstream

CARMIN A LITTLE BIT CLOSER BABY

Well here we go. After fourteen years in the foreign service and a spicy progression through the ranks, I finally got THE invite:  

i rsvp'ed so hard

The Career Minister exam is probably the last professional/qualifying test I'll ever take in my life (not counting The Voice auditions), and should put a cap on my epic Lame Lawyer Dorky Diplomat exam trilogy. What are the stakes? Well, if I ever hope to reach Ambassador-rank or be appointed Head of Post or achieve my dream of being called Kamahalan before retirement age, I have to pass the CarMin test -- the sooner and the less number of tries the better.     

My Chronicles of CarMin then.

Where in the World is CarMin San Diego?

I previously described the Bar exam as dense New York and the FSO exam as sprawling L.A. The CarMin exam is that leafy waterfront suburb you aspire to settle in mid-life that's filled with the familiar and the comfortable -- but also with can-i-pay-the-mortgage stress and what-school-do-we-send-the-kids-to anxiety. The whole thing is actually a six-week long battery of different tests, with the main written portion a two-day ordeal covering Diplomatic and Consular Practice, International Politics, and International Economics.  Now, you would think that all those subjects are fairly well-defined and that CarMin examinees already regularly handle and know them as part of their daily jobs...but the World's a Big Place, man! And it be changing all the time! So someone who's been a Consular Officer could still have a huge blind spot on, say, the United Nations, while a Geographic Desk Officer might have a huge blind spot on what's going on outside their region, while an Administrative Officer could just be literally blind because they're usually in windowless offices and get no natural light all day and no one really visits anyone in admin. (shoutout my office concierge homies)

Batchmates, Assemble! Virtually!

For a variety of reasons, not everyone from a particular FSO Batch will be asked or be eligible to take the CarMin exams of a given year. In my case, about half of my original FSO batchmates (including ONE MAIN IDEAL) plus a couple of FSO I's from other years got invites - a lucky thirteen of us in all. Fortunately, we were geographic assignment/substantive specialty-diverse enough to collectively cover most of the CarMin subject areas. A new viber group and shared google drive for review materials was obviously needed, but a full "we're putting together a team" montage would have also been deserved. 

there's always that one guy in every gang who doesn't know how to tech

(spoiler: it was me)  

                              

The Ultimate Mock CarMin Exam Reviewer

The shared google drive was quickly inundated with lengthy review materials and unopenable zip files (my bad), and it became clear real quick that getting through every subject would be terribly tiring and time consuming. Luckily, I could shave some time and stress off my review process by taking advantage of favorable conditions at my post and review-via-easy-listening-osmosis many local lectures and events, such as Head of State Foreign Policy Speeches...             

key foreign policy takeaway/great summer movie title: Pacific Step Up

...Dialogues with Superpowers...

key foreign policy takeaway/great summer movie title: An Unbreakable Alliance

...Regional Free Trade Agreements Talks...

key foreign policy takeaway/great summer movie title: Dispute Settlement Mechanism

... and ASEAN (again)...

key foreign policy takeaway/great summer movie title: Industrial Revolution IV - This Time it's Bio-Digital

But in keeping with the nature of this blog, my true "Mock" required reading syllabus reads:

*International Politics

*International Economics

*Diplomatic Practice

*Consular Practice

And for extra credit/study hack, listen to Francis M's visionary "Ito Ang Gusto Ko" over and over and you'll learn/memorize 90% of the U.N. Sustainable Development Goals 2030.

chorus alone name-drops 7 SDGs. word.

Agoda Idea

The full schedule of the whole exam process was a doozy: over six weeks(!) at different venues scattered all over Mega Manila, we would be subjected to a grueling battery of psychological evaluations, executive training courses, written exams and panel interviews. The sheer length of the activities and their varied locations meant it would be more time efficient and restful (but also staggeringly expensive) to book oneself a room and crash somewhere nearby rather than commute or head home everyday. So unwittingly, we all became experts in Philippine tourist/non-POGO accommodations and conditions -- quite useful for the economic portion of the exams!

        hello again trip advisor search filter results, my old friend

See Ya When We See Ya

In a case of cosmic comedic timing, the weekend ONE MAIN IDEAL and I needed to leave for Manila to start the exam process was also the birthday/mandatory retirement/departure of our old Congen... 

   

...as well as the arrival in Sydney of our new one...

...which meant ONE MAIN IDEAL and I would not be around to substantially brief our new boss or show him around the city or otherwise help him settle in Sydney. Awkward!

on the other hand, travelling back to the Philippines together with the outgoing Congen meant we could mooch off her airport courtesies 

Psych!

Touchdown Manila, and we have to get right into it. Because the first of our three(!) psychological evaluations was scheduled to start at 6:00 a.m.(!) the day after our arrival, there would be no chance for any long reunions or reminiscing with old friends -- literally the first time I heard the voices of batchmates I hadn't seen in years was when they yelled "hoy, bili mo nga kami ice tea" at me at the 24-hour East Avenue Jollibee outside the testing center. All these personality encounters and evaluations just confirmed that some things happily never changed among the batch...at the same time, man there were still a lot of things about them I didn't know and didn't want to know!         

to be fair, batch leader HARMONIC EGG CARE was having none of my "I kinda look like Jason Bourne" reveals either

I Got to P

The bulk of our time in Manila ahead of the exam was spent attending "5Ps", a specially designed three-week long executive training course for civil servants meant to immerse us in the latest and most essential leadership, management and public service concepts -- and boy there were a lot of them. My head was filled with so many Dilbertesque catchphrases, buzzwords and initialisms, I honestly couldn't remember what 5Ps even stood for.  I know Public was one, and I think Performance was another.  What else...Power? Perseverance?    

Pits?

But it wasn't all just abstracts and think-pieces. The course was also laden with real world case studies, project presentations, and a whole lot of what must have been Michael Scott-inspired team exercises/shenanigans.          

Capped off by the "How to Wacky" module

We've Come a Long Way from Getting Our Clothes from the DFA's "Boy Barong" and "Ate Terno"

The middle of the 5Ps program coincided with the poshyal ArteFino Fair at Rockwell, and many of my batchmates were willing to brave crosstown traffic in the name of some cultural diplomacy shopping. Personally, I wasn't that keen on going, but was told by the LLDD-Hyphen-L that I had a weak fashionalista game, and ArteFino could help.   

she's not wrong 

Surprise surprise, by the time I got to the fair, the LLDD-Hyphen-L had already messaged many of her social media/enterprise friends and contacts and had hooked me up with some sweet sweet modern barongs, enough for me to catwalk through the rest of the review. 

"Who here can't dress themselves without their wife?"

Highlight of My Career

Dala ng pangangailangan, almost all of my study reading was done on screen rather than on paper. I didn't know much about tech, but I did know that printing out all of the required review material stacks would kill a small forest and take up all of my mandatory pasalubong excess baggage. Plus, Stabilo Boss was very expensive now so I could no longer afford to do my go-to law school move of  highlighting EVERYTHING on a page for fear of leaving out something important     

from the mind of a topnotcher (or serial killer, psych exam test pending)

Missing the Misses

I wouldn't say the pressure of the CarMin exams is any heavier or lighter than the Bar or the FSO exams, but it is different. You're farther along your life and career, your personal situation's probably changed, and the overall stakes are just no longer the same. Whether I passed the CarMin or not, I was already and would remain a (lame) lawyer and (dorky) diplomat...BUT if I failed, it would mean my professional progression would stall, everything spent around the review would have been wasted and, most nakakahinayang of all, all that quality time away from the fam would have been for naught. I mean, just in the six-week window I was in Manila, I missed the LLDD-Baby:                      

....nailing another RAD exam
         

...learning how to butterfly

...receiving academic achievement awards

...becoming a total boss at Mario Kart

...and representing her school and competing against older kids at the state regional spelling bee

for real, I learned how to viber video real quick and sneak-watched her rounds live during the 5Ps program

The LLDD-Hyphen-L for her part wasn't doing me and my long distance husbanding guilt any favors by regularly sending me her workout OOTDs

for real, the REAL reason I learned how to viber video real quick

We Had to Pray Just to Make It Today

Speaking of pressure, it was at once soothing and heartening to have batchmates who would brave rush hour traffic and light 13 candles at Baclaran church every Wednesday night. 

the glow is so divine

If that wasn't enough, batchmate GEYSER JOHN would go all the way to Manaoag(!) every weekend and offer mass intentions for everyone. 

Pasalubong Diplomacy, Nailed It 

It's a good idea for every CarMin exam batch to try to beef up their studies by arranging their own special briefings and lectures in addition to the prescribed review program. These could be done with senior officials, esteemed academe, and other people in town who might know what's up.

Or even with people from out of town via videocon. 'Sup Washington D.C.?  Sorry to wake you up with "paano ba mag screenshare?"

It's also a good idea for the batch to arrange some token gift bags for the lecturers' troubles. In our case, we thought it'd be cute to fill the bags with the best known chocolatey goodies of our respective countries of assignment, like chocolate bars from Belgium or chocolate covered dates from Bahrain

or chocolate covered excess baggage from Down Under

Yeah, the goodie bag served as a great equalizer. Whether the special lecturer was a preeminent authority on international law, or an assistant secretary or head of a department office, or even a home-based geographic desk officer batchmate, the chocolates uniformly conveyed how grateful the batch was for the guests' time and efforts, and the guests themselves all seemed to appreciate the bags with equal fervor.         

except the Usec for Memo who was all "ba't mas maliit yung bag ko?" 

Tonight...with Dick and CarMin

So after a month-plus long buildup of 5P training, psych tests and special briefings, exam day finally arrives. 

yet the batch seems disturbingly undisturbed about everything

 

Officially, its more dauntingly called the "Two-day Technical Knowledge and Writing Skills" portion of the examinations, but not to be too anti-climactic about it, it was all just a hazy blur to me. The most distinctly memorable thing about the written exam was that it wasn't even written -- not in long-hand, anyway. No, CarMin examinees are each stationed at their own long table and individually assigned sleek laptops where they must encode their answers, save them on special drives, and then print out hard copies -- all while facing two big-ass monitors up front with countdown clock displays visually screaming the time ticking away. For non-techies and non-touch typists like me used to passing tests in Pilot signpen, the CarMin computer set-up could have been daunting and nerve-racking, but I've seen Gattaca and that scene in Swordfish enough times to know how smart, suave, beautiful people can coolly handle the situation.
                      

So yeah, the written exam seemed over real quick.

Good Panelling

After the written exam, there's one Final Boss Fight...well, bosses actually. CarMin candidates would be grilled by a panel made up of current and former Foreign Secretaries, Ambassadors, Special Envoys and other Senior Government Officials. The sheer weight and cred of the panel, plus the fact that the interviewees are themselves no longer newbies, could make for some pretty interesting and potentially fraught exchanges. And remember those policy blind spots you might have developed over the course of your career? You can never ever play that card. You're expected and ought to be able to confidently and convincingly speak at length on EVERYTHING. So yeah, the CarMin candidates still be stressed even after the written exam ahead of the panel interview.                           

Fortunately, JOIN EVASION ‘COS NASA AJAR was one of the first interviewees to arrive and cut the tension with his irrational exuberance

and sartorial choices

End In View

The panel interviews ran really long -- we were more than an hour behind schedule after just the second interviewee -- which was a good thing! Long interviews (presumably) mean the panel found you engaging enough to keep on, short ones might mean they mentally buzzed you out. But everyone was still exhausted towards the end, and there was still one final FINAL activity to get through the following day. We had to travel to Tagaytay and take part in a seminar on (*checks notes*) "Enhancing People Management Skills through Increased Self-Responsibility". Unwieldy title perhaps, but the seminar was actually smoothly structured towards getting everyone to de-stress after the exams. It helped that the venue had gorgeous, relaxing views and every turn.

            

although i guess it was still too soon for the batch to be totally chill

But seriously, the seminar was a perfect way to decompress after all that we had been been through.  The moderators had this young, hip teacher-who-talks-to-class-while-straddling-a-turned-around-chair kinda vibe, an in-house band played Buwan at every meal, and there was even a meditation session that was so hypnotically relaxing the whole batch feel asleep agape -- as in tulo laway level. So s'all good, seminar. After six hard weeks of tests, interviews and evaluations, everyone had a last chance to work on their wellness, reflect on themselves, and truly understand who they were and what they were made of.

but really, the Department could have saved a lot of time and money by just judging every personality on how they "wacky"  

Epilogue

No one knows exactly when the exam results will come out -- best guess is some time before Christmas. So the batch leaves Manila like its a final Tribal Council on Survivor: vote tally still hanging, everyone has to get on with their lives, and there's still a long Probst jet-ski ride back home to look forward to.

I head back to Sydney the day after the end of the seminar, my excess baggage now made up of choc-nut and choco-butternut munchkins. Upon touchdown, I immediately turn on my phone, anticipating the loving welcome message and workout OOTD pic the LLDD-Hyphen-L has in store for me. 

The first texts that appear were fit alright.  

Yep, she signed me up for a gym while I was away. To work off the chocolate covered stress-wait eating.  

The results can't come soon enough.