Things have been crazy busy with the first week of A-100. I have now taken the oath of office and proudly walk the halls of the Foreign Service Institute with brand spanking new State Dept ID badge. I’m afraid my entries, however, are going to get much less interesting for the foreign service crowd. Details about A-100, classes, bid lists, the bidding process, etc. are all pretty sensitive. I’m going to take the conservative approach and not talk about any of it publicly. I can say that the big dates are set:
November 23rd: Flag Day at which we will each receive our first post assignments
December 4th: Formal swearing in at Main State
I’ll post my onward assignment on the 23rd. Until then, some sporadic posts on other topics.
Somewhere over the Sierras, driving through snow, I started thinking that I should front load the trip so that I could relax the last two days with maybe only 5 hours of day of driving rather than 8-10. Even with the bad weather, the plan would have worked out just fine. I slept ’till 10:30 am on Friday, waking to more rain and a bunch of Boston College fans in the lobby preparing for their football game against Notre Dame. I did not have a difficult schedule or a specific goal in front of me other than stop somewhere in Pennsylvania.
Despite the bad weather and absurd toll roads, I made pretty good time. I have no problem paying for the right to use a highway, but $0.80 stretches broken up by toll booths with human beings making change and giving receipts seems ridiculously inefficient.
I came close a few times to getting a ticket, but the weather saved me (the silver lining of that black cloud following me cross-country). The first near-miss came in Nebraska as I zipped past an obvious speed trap. The traffic was sparce and I was probably 15 mph over the posted 70 speed limit. Once I saw the highway patrol car angled on the median, I eased on the brake. With the rain just pounding down, however, the patrolman didn’t budge. It was coming down so hard, he might not have gotten a good radar reading. Whether technology malfunction or lack of motivation, I lucked out.
The next one came in Ohio. Again, no doubt the weather gods helped out as I was plugging along around 90 mph when I caught sight of a highway patrol car coming up from behind. I slowed and moved over to the right lane, but he clearly got a good read on my speed. Instead of hitting the lights and siren, he pulled alongside as our wipers moved in synchronized high gear, and simply motioned to me to slow down. I gave him a knowing thumbs up and mouthed an exaggerated Thank You as he moved forward in his mission to keep traffic within the bounds of the legal limit while maintaining a spotlessly dry uniform.
Once in Ohio, the rest centers started showing Washington, DC and my ultimate destination on the map. Reprogramming the GPS to my condo address, the computer told me I’d be pulling into my parking spot around 9:00ish. That sounded much better than another rest stop motel so I pushed on.
Once on I-70, I figured I was in the home stretch. No more snow and even the rain had lightened up. I wouldn’t hit any commuter traffic on a Friday night after 8:00 pm. Cake.
Well, not exactly. As I crested a hill, I noticed my windshield was starting to fog up. I was surprised because after much experimentation over the past week, I found the optimum air conditioner settings to keep the windows clear and the cabin warm enough, even in the 25 degree weather of Western Wyoming. After blasting the defogger, I realized it was not an interior problem. Instead, I was heading into extremely thick fog that reminded me of the California Central Valley’s Tule fog. Traffic wasn’t packed, but in some ways that made it scarier. The fog came up very fast and I could only see one or two car lengths ahead of me.
I quickly hit the fog lights and the emergency flashers, slowing to about 25 mph. I felt like a complete wimp as a Honda Accord passed me quickly on the left. An immediate screech vindicated my caution as the Honda slammed on his brakes and swerved onto the shoulder to avoid hitting the car in front him. I was really rethinking the whole “let’s get home tonight” strategy, but there was nowhere to stop so I just kept driving and eventually came out of the fog unscathed.
I found my underground parking spot around 10:30 pm, and spent then next three hours unloading the car and putting things away in my new home away from home. I slept very well.
Final Stats for the road trip:
I promise no more weather descriptions at least until I get to my first foreign post.

Another day of driving in the rain. After a long stretch, the corn and wheat fields of Nebraska and Iowa gave way to the tangle of highways outside of Chicago. I haven’t touched on food this trip because, frankly, the food available to I-80 travelers isn’t worth mentioning. America is facing an epidemic of obesity. Every truck stop, small town diner, and fast food joint I encountered on this trip made its own contribution to the collective hardened arteries. Hitting each of the three main food groups — fat, salt, and sugar — the available options turned meals into nothing more than 20-minute refueling sessions.
With that in mind, I’ve been looking forward to a stop in Chicago since Day 1 of this trek. It would have been much easier to bypass rainy rush hour Chicago traffic, but to do so would also require bypassing a world class meal (and a chance to catch up with my nieces and my sister-in-law). My brother-in-law, Bruce Sherman is Chef and Partner at North Pond Restaurant and it’s been several years since I’ve had the opportunity to visit.
I wish I’d taken better notes on the dishes that just started appearing, but safe to say, it was all amazing. After a delicious appetizer-sized amuse bouche and a glass of champagne, the first course involved a mix of Alaskan Spot Prawns and Smoked Rainbow Trout next to an Autumn Vegetable Confetti, on top of a Shrimp Bouillon. The first course I ordered fit the feel of the rainy evening perfectly: Sherried Roasted Kabocha Squash Soup, Goat Cheese-Parmesan Gnudi, Pancetta, Brown Butter, and Candied Pecans. There is nothing more comforting than a rich soup. I could have stopped there and been more than satisfied, but I avoided the roadside grease today specifically to ensure I’d have room come dinner.
For a main course, as much as the steak beckoned, I went with an intriguing Arugula-Cheese Crusted Bass Filet, Charred Fingerling Potatoes, Green Beans, Sweet Onion a la Plancha, and an accompanying Arugula Coulis. The bass just melted in each bite. A generous glass of white, paired by our server, fit perfectly. Although all the desserts looked great, I tried to resist, opting instead for a double espresso to fortify another couple of hours of post-dinner driving. Of course, the coffee arrived with figs done three ways: Caramelized Black Mission Figs, Honey-Cream Stuffed Kadota Figs, Lemon Pound Cake, Fig Sorbet, Pine Nuts. After an obligatory protest, I scraped the plate.
It was an amazing meal and really great to catch up with everyone. Having served in Haiti and India with CARE, my sister-in-law had some excellent advice over dinner. The in-law designation is just for factual accuracy. I’m so lucky to have acquired eight brothers and sisters when I married E a couple decades ago.
After dinner, a quick hug goodbye and I was back on the road. My plan was to bang out a quick 100 miles beyond Chicago to avoid the heavy morning rush hour traffic. I imagined light traffic and a clear, fast highway. There wasn’t the bumper-to-bumper traffic I’d experienced coming in to town, but it didn’t really matter. Rain coming down in sheets combined with lots of road work, narrowing several areas to one lane, and confusing my GPS to no end. Lots of white knuckling through Chicago and its outer burbs before Indiana and smoother sailing took hold.
I rolled up into South Bend, Indiana, home of the Notre Dame Fighting Irish (and more bad food). Having just crossed over the Eastern Time Zone, I hit a welcome bed around 2:30 am, figuring I’d sleep late, put in a moderate day of driving, and get in to DC by noon on Saturday.

I consider myself an optimist, particularly of late. Given the state of the world, I think a healthy dose of optimism is a pre-requisite for a life in diplomacy. That said, I can say objectively that there is a very dark cloud following me. Literally.
The Weather Channel website provides a very useful interstate driving map and it seems all of the harsh weather predicted for I-80 tracks my progress precisely. Today, it was blowing snow and pretty dense fog as I crossed Wyoming. Clearing Cheyenne, the snow gave way to rain which followed my progress across Nebraska to Lincoln where the day ended. Having never been to Nebraska, I was amazed to see mile after mile of wheat. I just figured it’d all be corn given the namesake mascot for the University.

Lest anyone forget, Cornhusker football dominates Nebraskan culture this time of year. I flipped through the local stations on the radio and couldn’t get away from it. AM Radio: Jesus, Jesus, Sports, Oldies, and Jesus. The sports talk initially sounded promising until I realized that it was ignoring major league baseball playoffs, the full slate of NFL football games, hockey, and everything else but Cornhusker football and, specifically, a brewing quarterback controversy. FM Radio: Classical/NPR (from Wyoming), Country, 80s New Wave, Country, Classic Rock, and Country. News breaks talked of weather and the quarterback controversy. This while I’m driving past an exit for the Tom Osborne Expressway named after the infamous Cornhusker head coach.
Don’t get me wrong. I absolutely love sports. When shooting a college game from the sidelines, it is very easy for me to get caught up in the drama and emotion of the moment even if I have no connection to either team. I cried at the end of Rudy. I can’t shake the feeling, however, that I’m driving through an episode of Friday Night Lights.
Radio — at least for music — appears well on its way to obsolescence as a medium. Why listen to commercials interspersed with music you didn’t choose when you can craft your own commercial-free 20-hour playlists? For this sometimes tedious trip, I’ve been switching between various playlists that include a mix of rock/pop, hip hop, and R&B that span stay-awake classics from the Who, Rolling Stones, Elvis Costello, and George Thorogood to Black Star, Hieroglpyhics, and Mos Def to Grace Jones, Sly & the Family Stone, and Etta James with lots in between. So far, drowsiness has not been a problem.
I’ve also tried out the concept of audio books. I haven’t had a long commute in over a decade so I’ve never had the need before (other than a road trip to Los Angeles years ago during which we listened to the then-latest Harry Potter book). I went to the library and found two books on CD of interest: T.C. Boyle’s Talk Talk and Roddy Doyle’s Oh, Play That Thing.
I’ll leave the serious literary critiques to my eldest son who knows more about literary theory than I could ever hope to comprehend, but I really enjoyed Talk Talk. I’ve been a fan of T.C. Boyle’s after reading Tortilla Curtain and Budding Prospects. Talk Talk uses the same great ear for dialogue, both internal and external, and follows the events surrounding an identity theft nightmare encountered by a Southern California deaf woman and her boyfriend. Bouncing perspectives between the victims and the thief, Boyle builds a surprising amount of suspense as the protagonists collide at the end of the book. I was also pleasantly surprised to find one part of the book involving a cross-country driving trip that coincidentally followed my precise route. The audio book definitely helped my miles slip by quickly, particularly since Boyle did his own reading, complete with accents for various characters.
M will no doubt take me to task for something I’m missing, but I think Boyle’s downfall is his endings. While I thoroughly enjoyed all three books, I felt a bit disappointed when each of them ended. Not entirely satisfying for me, but not enough of a problem that I’m giving up on him. Tonight I downloaded Boyle’s Drop City from Audible.com to gobble up the last couple of days of driving.

It’s so great to get comments and email from people who find this blog interesting, informative, and/or entertaining. I realized from one such message this morning that I provided no context for this road trip other than conversations with local friends and family. Sorry ’bout that. Here’s the belated explanation.
I start A-100 (essentially diplomatic boot camp) in Washington, DC (actually Arlington, VA) next Monday, October 26th. State provides extensive arrangements via individualized Travel Orders. Typically, this includes moving the candidates stuff via ground transport (up to 18,000 lbs.), storage for most of it, delivery of a small air shipment to the candidate’s temporary address in the DC area (necessities for the 4-12 months of training), and plane tickets. For those of us who cling to some romantic notion of a cross-country road-trip (i.e., masochists), State will also reimburse mileage plus expenses to drive one’s own car to DC.
I wanted to have my car in DC for a variety of reasons: easier commute, easier to visit my two sons in Philadelphia, PA and College Park, MD, allows me to bring more stuff to DC, and I didn’t have time to sell my car before departing. I love to drive and have never had the opportunity to do a true cross-country drive. One more thing to check off the bucket list.
With all the other things I had to do this past week, I didn’t get to pre-plan the trip as meticulously as I typically would. My family would be shocked to see there is no folder with details of each day’s expected progress, reservations for hotels, etc. That said, I did spend some time looking at a map and did a little research about routes. State uses Mapquest (didn’t know anyone still used Mapquest as opposed to Google Maps) to determine the reimbursable mileage: 2,884 miles from Palo Alto, CA to Washington, DC. In all of its bureaucratic wisdom, State determined that the trip should take 6-1/2 days assuming the government mandated 440 miles of progress per day.
I chose to take I-80 as it appears to be the most direct route and affords me the opportunity to see a few states I’ve never before visited. After leaving California over the Sierra-Nevada mountains (see yesterday’s entry), the route takes me through Nevada, Utah, Wyoming, Nebraska, Iowa, Illinois, Indiana, Ohio, Pennsylvania, and then down to Maryland, DC, and Virginia. So far, so good. After two days, I’m just shy of 1,100 miles down.
Today’s driving took me past Salt Lake City and into Wyoming. The Utah Salt Flats leading up to the Great Salt Lake look very similar to Death Valley. Must be tough to maintain cars in this area with all the salt flying around.

The weather was mostly sunny with a little rain toward the end of the day that turned to snow just as I pulled into the hotel in Rawlins, WY. Wyoming has been, as expected, wide open spaces and canyons that look like Wile E. Coyote and his rocket sled will fly by around each turn. This was the main route for both the Pony Express and the Mormon Pioneer Trail.

I have to say, I-80 has been fantastic. I’m used to Northern California freeway driving: three or four lanes in each direction with way too much traffic and drivers who refuse to follow basic etiquette: if you are not passing the lane immediately to your right, you are in the wrong lane. Traffic on I-80 East has been really moderate. It’s been mostly big trucks and RVs. So far, it has been a completely divided highway (you can see the parallel Westbound I-80, but it’s a good 40 yards+ away separated by walls and usually a lot of scrub land). The posted speed limit in Nevada and Wyoming has been 75 mph which means I can drive very safely between 80 and 90. Best of all, what traffic there is tends to stay in the right hand lane unless passing. I have yet to see a Highway Patrol car or speed trap. I’m making good time as it is so I don’t feel the need to push it into triple-digit speeds. At least not very often.
Keep the messages and comments coming…

Wow. So that’s what weather looks like. I left sunny Palo Alto, California this morning thinking I might hit a little rain leaving the Bay Area, but otherwise I was not too worried about the weather. I guess I should have done a little more research last night. Despite the early morning departure, the temperature was in the low 60′s when I left home. The huge rainbow stretching West to East seemed a good omen, but it turned out to just be a warning that bad weather lay ahead. A little sprinkling gave way to full on downpour as I hit Stockton on I-80.
Climbing into the Sierras, I kept an eye on the outside temperature readout. The rain came at me in horizontal sheets and the temperature began dropping quickly. Sure enough, a sharp beeping from the dash announced a temp below 37 degrees — the point at which icy roads become a possibility.
As the elevation climbed above 5,000 feet, rain turned to snow. Nothing to worry about, just some light fluffy flakes melting on contact. The higher I climbed, the harder it came down. The side of the road transitioned from green to patchy to all white. Electronic signs warned of blowing snow at the summit and the need for chains. Chains? It’s October.
I passed a jack-knifed big rig that managed to block the entire Westbound divided highway — all 3 lanes including the shoulder. I’ve heard that description a million times on the radio, but I’d never seen it firsthand. Of all the professions I’ve coveted, truck driver was never one of them. Westbound traffic was backed up for miles and the Highway Patrol had just started diverting them to an exit. Thankfully, there was not much Eastbound traffic, but the weather continued to deteriorate. The closed down all but one lane but traffic continued to move. Here’s a shot just after the Donner Pass summit:

That is a three-wheeled motorcycle in front of me. He did not look happy at all. Things improved markedly as the elevation dropped. I left the rain behind a couple hours later and Eastern Nevada, although a bit desolate, is a beautiful landscape.

I’ll be checking the weather tonight as I make the climb into Salt Lake City, Utah tomorrow morning.
A few more questions and answers:
What exactly will you be doing as a political officer? Harry Kopp and Charles Gillespie provide a terrific overview for prospect foreign service officers in Career Diplomacy. They provide a concise description of a political officer’s duties: “[p]olitical officers carry the burden of bringing foreign governments around to the U.S. point of view[, and] present U.S. views and values as persuasively as possible to local audiences.” The political officer’s portfolio includes a number of substantive areas, any one of which could be the focus of a particular assignment for 1-3 years: internal politics, relations with third countries, multilateral affairs, nuclear nonproliferation, environmental affairs, narcotics and crime, human rights, labor, refugees, political-military affairs, alliance relationships, military-to-military relations, arms trafficking, disarmament and demining, and international peacekeeping. My specific duties will depend on the location and needs of the particular embassy/consulate. Large embassies will have several political officers each with a more narrow focus while small consulates will have perhaps only one with a much broader scope.
Where do you want to go? I’m open to going anywhere. This is good because while E and I will have some input in the process, it’s not up to us. The first post bidding process presents a few conflicting challenges for us given our unique circumstances. I want to learn a second language as quickly as possible as that is a major hurdle to securing tenure. It would be great to get a Russian posting (Vladivostok here I come) starting in September 2010 so that I could take a full 9-month Russian fluency course. I took some Russian and college — not enough to retain much other than how to count to ten, hello, goodbye, and thanks — but at least it’s something. My high school French — also completely useless as far as currently vocabulary — might also provide a good starting point for learning in advance of an African post on the same time frame. At the same time, my daughter is excited about the idea of spending the summer with me abroad which would require an English-speaking first post (anything requiring a foreign language will require months of training before deployment). A posting in Washington DC is also a possibility working a region or country desk to see the other end of the process before working overseas. I expect there will be very few posts that I’ll mark as low interest, with an inordinate number of high and medium interest posts.
Can we come visit? YES! Again, depending where we are posted, we absolutely expect to see family and friends make the trek. Conventional wisdom has it that the more remote the post, the better the accommodation. Unfortunately, the opulence of the accommodation tends to be inversely proportionate to the interest of visitors. Thus, so I’m told, I should expect a nice 3+ bedroom house in Bangladesh or Zambia with very few visitors making the trek, and a 4th floor walk-up unfurnished 1 bedroom apartment in Paris with hordes of prospective visitors. Come visit us in the developing world…
Aren’t you a little old for this? That remains to be seen, but no. Looking at the biographies from my class of fellow junior officers, I’m definitely at the upper end, but starting in one’s mid-40s is far from unique. There are a handful fresh out of college in the their 20s, but most seem to be either post-grad school in their late 20s/early 30s, or second-career folks. While no doubt I will have a steeper learning curve for languages, with age comes some advantages: experience working with all kinds of people, running organizations, and confidence to say “I don’t know” without embarrassment. Mandatory retirement kicks in at 65 so I’ve still got the prospect of a full 20-year career before heading off to the home for old diplomats.
What about the dog? Many do select posts and orient their foreign service lives to accommodate dogs and cats. Our 11+ year old lab, unfortunately, will not be traveling the world. We have amazing friends willing to add her to their dog-friendly household — much more room to run and other dogs to run with. We will miss her dearly, but she’s just too old to put on long flights to parts unknown.
Are you allowed to blog? I certainly don’t check all my first amendment rights at the door, but I will be diligent not to come close to violating my security clearance obligations. The blog thus may transition from foreign service experience to more of a travelogue once training and work begins. There are many foreign service blogs out there, some written anonymously and some that more for family and friends. I will likely not be blogging about my specific job-related life and, in some posts, probably won’t be able to give much detail about my living situation. Like everything else, it depends.
One of my favorite George Carlin bits captures perfectly my current task: managing our stuff.
Packing and preparing to move is always a challenge. We’ve moved a dozen times, including a couple of cross-country transitions, but all of that was ten years ago or longer. Even though our house is small, we seem to have accumulated a lot of stuff during our decade of stability. Initially, we started storing stuff on the side yard in hastily erected weather proof plastic sheds. When those filled up, we broke down and rented a unit at one of those self-storage warehouses that seem to pop up on the edge of every American city and suburb. It is incredibly liberating to pare things down for our upcoming life abroad. Getting from lots of stuff to our hypothetical liberated selves, however, has turned into quite the logistical challenge.
Many of my classmates are packing everything immediately, vacating their apartment or house, and moving to temporary digs in DC until deployment overseas. Known as packing-out, the State Department has this down to a science and outsources to local movers who will pack, load, transport, store, and eventually deliver everything for you. Our situation is a little complicated, however, and requires a few refinements on the typical pack-out. First things first: make the categories. 1. Stuff to throw away (OK, I love my kids, but we don’t need half-finished spelling workbooks from the 3rd grade — M graduates from college in the Spring), 2. Stuff to give away (weekly trips to Goodwill — time to get brutal), 3. Stuff to send immediately to long-term storage (lots of family heirlooms that we won’t want to stress about if we have to evacuate), 4. Stuff I’ll want/need during my 4-12 months of training in Washington which includes 4a. Stuff to send air freight (up to 250 lbs.), and 4b. Stuff to pack in the car for the cross-country (mostly clothes, camera gear, and some select gadgets and books), and 5. Stuff to stay in California until E can join me at post in, ugh, two years or so (just about everything).
The tricky part is that, while all our big furniture and complex packing (e.g., kitchen) is staying, I need a uniform way of tracking what we have and where it is: California, my rented condo in Arlington, government storage, or somewhere else. The government, in all its wisdom, has concluded that we can travel with/store 18,000 pounds of stuff. I had no idea how that translates, but it turns out that it’s much more than we want or need. While the government provided storage is fantastic, allowing us to live abroad with a small subset of our overall stuff, if we ever want to retrieve something from storage without pulling everything out and searching, we need a very flexible way to identify what stuff is in what box.
I have never been one to go simple (e.g., writing on boxes) when technology can make the task infinitely more complex and way more cool. I set up a Bento database that contains all the pertinent data for each piece of stuff: what it is, where it was initially located, where it’s going, a unique Box identifier, when acquired, purchase price, warranty info, etc. It also includes a quick way to include a photograph and a PDF copy of the receipt or other documents related to the particular thing. Best part is that Bento has an iPhone app so the entire inventory, including photos of everything, reside on my phone. Slightly obsessive and very geeky, I know, but it’s how I deal with logistical stress.
The movers came to today, took some notes on what I have in the storage unit and at the house, and we are now officially set for an October 15th pack-out. The database is up to 135 entries, and growing fast, but should be up to date before the packers take off with our stuff.

It was so amazing to see family and friends in one final party before departing. After fussing for days on the flowers, setting up lighting, and preparing various areas in the yard for groups to congregate, the weather refused to cooperate. Bright sunshine in the morning and early afternoon quickly turned to a gusting wind. It felt like someone threw the “autumn switch” and the temperature dropped a good 20 degrees. Bizarre. We refused to let it kill the party and just moved everyone inside — a little cramped, but boisterous nonetheless. We ended up with over 100 people coming through. We never ran low on food or wine and everyone seemed to have a good time. The die-hards hung in to around 12:30 leaving me and Ellen to reflect on our good fortune at having such an amazing group of people in our lives. Thanks to all who braved the wind!
A new batch of applicants are now preparing for their oral assessments (OA), having cleared the prior hurdles, and I received a message from a recent law school grad seeking advice on how to approach the OA. For those not in the process, ignore this post.
First and foremost, congrats on getting through the process to the OA. There is a very strict non-disclosure agreement so the following is pretty generic advice, but hopefully it will help.
For logistics, get a full night’s sleep the night before the OA. Get to DC or wherever you are taking the assessment at least a full day and night early so you can do a trial run of sleeping and getting up at 5:30 am to get to the site on time. It’s a long day and those that tried to fly in the day before, particularly from the West Coast or internationally, had a more difficult challenge (not impossible, but just harder).
The OA is not really comparable to the bar exam or law school exams other than the high stakes and length (although California’s bar exam was three days long so the OA sort of paled in comparison). One similarity to the bar exam: You may run into some taking the test with you that are on their second or third attempt. The case management section is most analogous to the practical section of the California bar (we didn’t have such a section in Massachusetts, my first state bar). The OA’s case management section measures the same set of skills: reviewing and prioritizing a mountain of information without sufficient time and then synthesizing the important bits into a coherent answer. Practice on a computer. I have been using macs for the last couple of years so it was a little jarring to be using a PC — there isn’t much difference when using Microsoft Word, but a few, so practice on a PC if possible. I found the OA case management more difficult than the Yahoo group practice exercises and the bar exam practical, but definitely doable. I passed the case management section but absolutely know that I did not find the best or most complete solution to the prompt.
Do not let your performance on any one section impact the rest of your day. Compartmentalize each exercise and don’t dwell on your performance until you have completed everything. I am usually pretty good at determining how well I did on an exam and was absolutely convinced that I did not pass the case management section. Thankfully, it was my last section for the day so my concern about that part had no impact on the others. Remember, you can still achieve a passing score overall and fail a section, or even fail two sections if you crush the third.
For all sections of the oral assessment, FOLLOW THE DIRECTIONS. I cannot emphasize that enough. Those that do not do well will look back and invariable realize after the shock wears off that they followed a path that was most comfortable for them, but not necessarily what the instructions required. For the structured interview, prepare in the days and weeks before, 2 or 3 examples for each of the 13 dimensions. I did that and listened to the Yahoo group audio prompts to practice while walking the dog (in this day and age of bluetooth headsets, nobody looks twice at you talking to yourself as you walk down the street). Despite all the prep, I still found myself telling a couple of stories that I did not pre-prepare. All you can do is prepare as much as possible, but don’t get too wedded to your prepared stories. Following directions means answering the question precisely, not trying to fit a story into being an answer when it doesn’t really fit.
For the group exercise, there is some luck involved in getting a good group. You want to make sure your voice is heard, but I went in assuming the quality of one’s input is more important than quantity. In retrospect, I believe I spent more of my talking time working on process than substance. I certainly followed the directions in how I presented my material, but during the group discussion, most of our group wanted to jump right in and negotiate/advocate/TALK. After a bit, I jumped in as politely as possible and tried to structure and focus the discussion session so we actually came to consensus in the allotted time. This was appreciated by most (albeit not all) of the group and gave me credibility when I did weigh in on the substance. Everyone has a different style, but I would not advise trying to dominate the discussion. That said, you must be heard to be assessed. As with the other sections, if I didn’t emphasize it enough already, follow the directions.
No one approach will work for everyone and thus there is no “right way” to approach the assessment. Particularly since we don’t get any real substantive feedback on our performance (whether you pass or fail), all of the above incorporates a fair bit of conjecture. I passed all three sections with a strong enough score to receive a political appointment in the first class formed after hitting the register. I was lucky to get a really strong group exercise group (I think 4 of us passed from that sub-group). In sum, go in well-prepared and well-rested, stay focused on the exercise in front you, and be nice to everyone around you even when it’s stressful. Oh yea, and follow the directions. Good luck to all.