The Life I've Led

A FB friend updated her status referencing the humidity in Miami, my hometown, upon her return from a short out-of-town trip. Most interior spaces in Miami are airconditioned; so when --in the month of August-- you go outside from an airconditioned space, the humidity strikes you like a knockout punch. My FB friend said, "The humidity just hit me in the face...," as she exited the Miami airport.

My response was this:

"Man, I miss that. As weird as it sounds! I've watched the sunset over the Sahara Desert, watched it rise over the Tigris in Iraq; I've swum in the Libyan Sea, bathed in the Mediterranean, walked in the shadow of the Acropolis, lost my way through the canals of Venice, touched the walls of Petra in Jordan, climbed to the top of the Leaning Tower of Pisa, stood beneath the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, gazed [in awe] at the Mona Lisa in the Louvre, had gazpacho in Madrid, witnessed a bullfight in Sevilla, enjoyed pure flamenco in Jerez de la Frontera, and had a Weiss beer in Munich. Despite the wonders I've seen, and the adventures I've experienced, there is NO place like home! God bless the USA, and la Virgen de la Caridad del Cobre watch over mi tierra: MIAMI! 'Where the royal palms stand proudly, underneath the summer skies, where the tropic sun shines golden...'"

That's a play on several facets of my life. Firstly, the souvenirs --the memories-- of the places I've been, and the things I've seen. Secondly, the strong identification with my Latin roots and culture, particularly the exiled Cuban culture (or the Cuban culture of exile) of Little Havana, where I grew up, and whose patron saint is la Virgen de la Caridad. Lastly, the final reference is to my alma mater, Miami Senior High School, through our school song.

Between the lines are bits of me throughout my timeline: when I was 17, in high school, and visited Italy for the first time; when I was 21, a Junior in college, and discovering Greece; when I was 25, working as a court interpreter, and finding my Self in Spain; and later on, when I was thirty-something, in the military, and fighting the Global War on Terrorism in the Middle East.

The more I traveled, the more I opened my mind, the more I became a citizen of the world. And the more I visited home, the more I realized how much I'd changed, as others had stayed unchanged. Yet, like Odysseus, my instinct has always been to come back home. Even though I'm no longer in Miami, Miami is still in me. I've never forgotten where I came from: my childhood, my favorite parks and beaches, my favorite radio stations, the parties, the holidays, my favorite restaurants and cafes, the architecture, the festivals, my family, my friends, my music, my food, my palm trees, my Calle Ocho, and even my afternoon thunder storms, my tropical storms, and my hurricanes.

In my ongoing search for identity, I have traveled the world. I am concurrently a student and citizen of that world, and a proud son of el barrio. I've taken my culture with me to foreign lands. I've assimilated foreign ways. In so doing, I've played the role of cultural liaison: seeing ourselves and the world through the eyes of the Other, while rendering the Other more familiar, thus playing an active role in diminishing our collective fear of the unknown, and endearing us to the world.

In order for a culture to know itself, it must look into another culture. I was born into a life defined by the parameters of my name: Angel Alberto Diaz Rodriguez Perez Rodriguez Andino Acosta Castro Martinez, and into a hybrid culture, with one foot firmly on American soil, while the other one dangled precariously over international waters. The moment I stepped outside the parameters into which I was born began my love affair with the world, and my ongoing quest to know myself by getting to know the Other. My given name alone no longer defines me exclusively. In Italy I am known as Angelo. In Greece I am called Alexandros. In Arab lands they call me Malaak. As a citizen of the world, I represent every culture I've known, and every name I've been given. Ultimately, however, and no matter where I go, home will always wound me.

From P90X to Bahrain...or the Reserves?

This will be a year of change. It may not be the traditional start of the year, given that it's August now; but starting today, and over the course of the next year, something's gotta give. I've got lots of plans (A, B, C, D, etc.). I'm keeping all my options open, closing none until I'm certain which path to follow.

For starters, I took the CPO exam, first time up, this past January. I made board. It felt great, because it was my first time taking the E-7 exam, and I had heard stories from those who had taken it before me about how difficult an exam it was. I found it wasn't as difficult as I had imagined. I knew I hadn't aced it by any means, but I thought it was fair. I even finished early. So I was pleasantly surprised to learn that I had passed the exam. The exam results were followed by months of waiting for the board to convene and announce the results, i.e., whom they had chosen to be new Navy Chiefs. That list came out last Friday, 31Jul09. I was NOT on the list. To be perfectly honest, I knew I wouldn't be on the list. The quota called for 9 Arabic CPOs from the group of 31, or so, who had passed the E-7 exam. I knew I'd be at the bottom of that list, and I knew exactly why. I know what I have to work on, whether or not I agree with it.

Anyway, not making Chief may have been a blessing in disguise. For the past year, or more, I've been fantasizing about leaving the Navy after 10+ years of service to do something more fulfilling. I felt that if I made Chief, I'd find it very difficult to turn right around and get out; I felt I'd be disappointing a lot of people. However, as my friend Marcy (SCPO ret.) pointed out, I have to do what makes me happy.

The fact that I've been sitting on the fence for so long, trying to make a final decision as to whether or not I'll get out, is a huge indicator that I'm itching for a change, that I'm not satisfied, and that I should follow my heart. Keeping from doing something, or NOT following your dreams --whether or not the path is clear-- out of fear of failure, or the unknown, leads to a life half-lived. In fact, if those who came before us avoided following their dreams out of fear of change and the unknown, we wouldn't have cars, airplanes, telephones...we'd be nowhere.

So I've researched several possibilities for my new future over the past year, everything from going back to grad school to getting into teaching, to becoming a massage therapist; in fact, I took several classes at the local junior college last semester. But my greatest desire, my biggest dream, my calling, is to become a Foreign Service Officer. It's an idea I've entertained in the past. I never took the exam before because I was still executing my Navy contract, coupled with fear that I'd fail the test. But now I have nothing to lose, and everything to gain. I'm on a crusade. I registered for the FSOT that's coming up in October. I'm studying and reviewing lots of material in an effort to prepare for the exam. I hope I pass; I'll give it my all to pass. But should I fail, I'll take it again, and again, and again until I pass. Persistence is key, and I know that's where I'm meant to be.

In the meantime, I'll continue to prepare myself for a PCS back to Bahrain (should I not pass the FSOT this time around), get my clearance and medical up-to-date, work on my MTS qual, etc. I'm also looking into the possibility of transitioning to Troops to Teachers and the Navy Reserves, if I decide to get out, and to bide my time while I continue my efforts to become an FSO. If TTT doesn't work out, there's always my good old temp agency in Miami, or the new Post-9/11 GI Bill. So I guess I'll be asking for a TAP class soon ;)