Day 237 - Edith*

Image of living out of suitcases by Mandy_Jansen
via Flickr.com

Edith* arrived in Barbados shortly before Christmas. She had just completed a tour as a rover where she lived out suitcases as she traveled from post to post, filling in for secretaries at small posts while they were on leave or at posts where an unanticipated vacancy was causing a hardship for others. She hadn't seen her furniture or other possessions for at least two years. Everything was in storage while she roved.

Edith selected Barbados because it was a living quarters allowance post and the climate is warm all year long. She hoped to bring her father to Barbados to live with her. But a week after she arrived, her father died. When she requested her tour curtailed for compassionate reasons, the Department refused because the number of people who had been allowed or required to leave early was unacceptably large.

Edith wasn't going to take that response without a fight.

Sometimes I am a little slow catching on when someone is deliberately misbehaving. I always think there must be an explanation. But Edith really tried my patience.

The first clue I got was when her boss, the deputy chief of mission (DCM), hosted a welcome dinner for her. After the meal, Edith cornered me on the sofa and started telling me how jealous one of her previous bosses, a female ambassador, had been of her. Edith said the ambassador was jealous of how much better Edith played tennis and of how many more men were attracted to Edith than to the ambassador. She even made some very unflattering comments about that ambassador's ethical standards and behavior. I couldn't quite believe my ears. I had never met someone willing to speak so unflatteringly about a third person to another person she barely knew. I couldn't figure out why she would share these thoughts with me.

As she began her search for a house on the island, she contacted a real estate agent and then seemed to think I was going to be her new best friend as she kept coming to my office to chat about how unacceptable the whole process of locating a house to rent was. Her methods involved trying to get me to agree with her by statements like, "I know that you probably have never been at a post that is as screwed up as this one, so I am sure you'll agree with me that . . ."

One morning as I walked by the front office (Department-speak for where the ambassador's and DCM's offices are) Edith caught my attention and started in again on what a headache it was to have to find her own house and deal with the realtors. Then she said there was some small compensation, since the agent she was using had shared a lot of information about others at the embassy. She repeated something very unflattering her realtor had told her, or so she said, naming no names, but describing the person in enough detail that the ambassador's secretary, sitting at the desk facing Edith's recognized that she was it. If looks could kill. . .

Edith used that same strategy of stopping anyone who walked by the office in order to share her complaints. It reached the point that no one wanted to walk by her office. But the bathrooms were down the hall. The offices were along three sides of a square with the fourth side being the lobby. The front office was along the bottom of the U-shaped corridor. There was an entrance at both ends of the lobby. To avoid going by Edith's office, people whose offices were along the corridor opposite the bathrooms would walk out to the lobby and then enter at the opposite side of the lobby to reach the bathroom. They reversed their path to return, tripling the distance, all to avoid being trapped by Edith.

Commissary with Mary, the manager, and one of the
volunteer baggers

One by one, Edith zeroed in on each person, always saying things in a way that seemed designed to trap the person she was speaking with into admitting he or she agreed with her. We all tried to stay out of her way. One Saturday when I wasn't feeling well, I called Mary, the commissary manger, to ask if she minded if I sent Alex to pick up a couple of things for me. Since we weren't yet married, Alex wasn't officially my dependent. And the commissary was limited to employees and their dependents. I almost warned Alex that if Edith was there when he arrived, he should just walk away. Alex frequently volunteered to conduct inventories at the commissary under the previous manager, so he was no stranger to the place or its operations.

Edith was there when Alex arrived. But since I hadn't warned him, he picked up the few things I needed and wrote out the check I had signed and gave it to Mary. Later I learned that Edith was behind Alex and she commented throughout the transaction how kind it was of Mary to allow a non-embassy person to shop at the commissary.

A couple of months later, Mary traveled to Miami for a conference of commissary managers. When she returned, she came to see me to tell me that Alex could no longer shop at the commissary. The office that supports the commissaries in the Department had told Mary they had received nine anonymous telephone calls and letters complaining about Mary's allowing Alex to shop. They also said they had forwarded the messages to the embassy, but they understood no one had taken any action.

Now that is what worried me. Neither the management officer nor the ambassador had mentioned it to me. I called the management officer to ask if he had received messages from the Department. He admitted that he had, but he knew who the complaints were from, so he chose to ignore them. I next called the ambassador and asked him if he had received the messages. He also said he knew who the complaints were from, so he also decided to ignore them. I told Alex he shouldn't come with me to the commissary. He said that wasn't a problem for him. He wouldn't go into the commissary with me and he also would no longer help out with the monthly inventorying.

It didn't take much longer before the DCM concluded that she would rather have no secretary than to have to continue dealing with Edith. The Department curtailed her tour and the general services officer (GSO) had the task of getting Edith's household effects packed up for her departure. Even after getting what she wanted - a curtailment - she didn't let up.

Normally employees are allowed two days of administrative leave for their packout. But Edith had some conditions. First, she hadn't completely unpacked, but instead of just removing the boxes that were still packed and pack up only the rest, Edith insisted that she must be allowed to open all the boxes so she would know what was in them. She explained that she had deliberately mislabeled the boxes so that if someone stole a box, they would be disappointed when opening it. She also packed electronic items in one box, but the cords to them in a different box, again to disappoint any potential thieves. This was her justification for needing extra days - for the unpacking and then the repacking. Edith also insisted that an American employee be present for the entire packing process which now promised to be closer to six days than two. Another condition was that everyone must leave her house for two hours from noon until 2 p.m. so that Edith could get a refreshing swim in. Her house was near the beach, but not on the beach, the reason Edith needed two hours.

In the end, Edith left. No one shed a tear.

*a name, definitely not her real name, one I will never forget