Day 119 - A Reasonable Request?

rea·son·a·ble

/ˈrēz(ə)nəbəl/

Adjective (of a person) Having sound judgment; fair and sensible. Based on good sense: "a reasonable request".

Synonyms rational - sensible - moderate - fair - sane

I'm trying to figure out if I am being unreasonable. I welcome thoughts from others. Feel free to post your comments on this page to help me decide.

Nasser, on the right

Here is the situation: My friend Nasser from Eritrea has asked me for help. He has taught me a lot about the importance of asking for help instead of always assuming that I can do everything on my own. Through his requests for help, he has made me see that asking for help isn't a sign of weakness; it is a sign of the importance of relationships between people. Through asking me for help, Nasser has shown me that he trusts me. Each request for help is an opportunity for me to do the right thing, the generous thing, the hopeful thing.

Nasser has asked me for help several times and I have almost always responded with what he asked for.  I want to make it clear that Nasser doesn't ask me for a handout, although on some occasions the help he has needed has been financial. When he has asked me for financial help, he has always told me what he needs the help for and to the best of his abilities, he has tried to demonstrate that a little financial help from me would make it possible for him to be more independent in the future. On a couple of occasions, I have done less than he asked, but I have always told him why I couldn't do everything and he has always understood.

Nasser has been in the United States, in Syracuse, New York, since 2010. Since then, he has been waiting for his family to be able to join him. His wife and their three children were able to get out of Eritrea and have been in Ethiopia for most of the past two years, waiting for their appointments for interviews in order to follow and join Nasser in the United States.  At the beginning of this month, Nasser forwarded me copies of email messages he received from the consular section in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, in response to his request for information about his children's cases. It appeared from those messages that the cases were proceeding normally. However, Nasser told me that when his wife Elfey was interviewed, she was told to return to the consulate with photographs of her and Nasser with their children.

One of Nasser's children

This is where Nasser turned to me for help. He asked if I could go through the photographs I have of him and his family and send them to the consulate in Ethiopia. The only photographs I have are those that he has sent me over the years since 2004 when I met Nasser. If sending them will help Nasser's family join him in New York, I will send them. But I can't get over the feeling that it is unreasonable for the person who interviewed Elfey to request them because both Nasser and his wife are blind.

Since Nasser, Elfey and their children all got out of Eritrea by surreptitious means, they didn't bring everything they owned with them to Ethiopia. And because both Nasser and Elfey are blind, neither of them thought about packing away photographs of themselves when they fled Eritrea. While I can understand that it would be reasonable to assume that someone who knew he or she was leaving family members behind for what could turn out to be a very long time would bring photographs of those family members with him or her, in the case of a blind person, a photograph would not have the same value. It would just be a piece of paper.

Am I being unreasonable in concluding that requesting photographs of family members is an unnecessary burden in the case of two blind refugees? Tell me what you think.

Day 118 - The Flood

rising Red River of the North, April 2013

In the spring of 1997, the Fargo-Moorhead area experienced what was described as a 500-year flood, based on the historical likelihood that a flood would only reach that height once in 500 years. The Red River of the North flooded to such a height that entire cities along its borders had to be evacuated. More than 50,000 people in Grand Forks, ND, East Grand Forks, MN and the area around them were evacuated as both cities we nearly completely inundated. In addition, a fire broke out downtown Grand Forks that destroyed eleven buildings and 60 apartment units.During that time, people all over the state of North Dakota and the northern half of Minnesota opened their homes to those who were evacuated.

TV crews from CNN, ABC, NBC, CBS, convened on Fargo and Moorhead and broadcast the events. One of my favorite radio stories about that event was an interview by a reporter from one of the big news outlets who asked a woman from one of those towns who sheltered evacuees why she was willing to invite strangers into her home. Her response, after a significant pause, "You're not from around here, are you?"

The cities of Grand Forks and East Grand Forks have been rebuilt since the flood. Flood control measures including construction of dikes to hold the waters within the river's banks are in place.

river side of the dike on Rivershore Drive,
April 2013

Since 1997, there have been two more floods referred to as 100-year floods.  In 2009, the home of my brother, Brian, and his wife, Lori, was in the path of the first of those 100-year floods.  For three weeks, schools were closed, neighborhoods were cut off from the rest of the town, and my brother and his neighbors, with a lot of help from volunteers, placed sandbags around their homes, barricading them on an island formed by the sandbags. They moved everything from their basement to the main floor - beds, sofas, washing machine and dryer, clothes from closets, boxes, bookshelves and books. 

My brother and his family had lived in their house since 2004, but they hadn't met many of their neighbors. As the river threatened to rise, one of those neighbors, one who had just recently moved into the neighborhood, came to the door to ask Brian to join him and the neighbors who lived between them to sandbag the houses as one island instead of placing separate barriers around each house. Brian didn't immediately agree to help out, leaving the neighbors uncertain that they had convinced him. The next morning, however, they found Brian outside already beginning the wall of sandbags to separate their homes from the river. For two weeks, until the river crested, they worked in shifts to make sure that the pumps in place to remove any water that broke through the sandbags was pumped back over the wall and back into the river. For another week, their homes were cut off from the rest of the city until the city removed the sandbags and the temporary dirt and clay dike down the center of the street.

Brian taped the words Thank you backwards on the windows of his living room to let all those who helped know how they felt.

Red River above flood stage, April 2013

The following year, 2010, a second 100-year flood struck along the Red River. This time, the city of Moorhead began early enough to erect dirt and clay dikes along the edge of the river so that my brother and his neighbors did not have to sandbag their homes. That October, my brother passed away seven weeks after having been diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia. After his funeral, many of us gathered at his house where we continued to reminisce with my brother's friends out on the driveway and yard where those sandbags were placed in April and May the year before. At the end of that day, my beautiful sister-in-law and my brother's wife Lori gave several of us a hug and said a most remarkable thing: Thank God for the flood. She knew that she wouldn't have gotten to know the neighbors without it.

Street side of the dike on Rivershore Drive,
April 2013

Following the 2010 flood, Moorhead bought out the houses closest to the river and erected a permanent dike to protect the rest of the city. My brother's neighbors across the street were among those who sold their homes and moved. The remaining neighbors have continued to provide Lori help with broken garage door openers and other maintenance challenges.

This year, the river crest is predicted for Thursday, May 2, at 37 feet. The gates at the dike at the end of the street where Lori's house is were closed this morning, providing protection up to 42 feet. Even the neighbor across the street who chose not to sell his home is doing nothing to protect his home this year as his house is safe so long as the river does not exceed 40 feet.

Floods and silver linings. Remarkable people.

Day 117 - Thanks For the Memories

Shellagh at Takhte Tavoos Office

I missed observing Administrative Professionals Day on Wednesday. Well, I missed observing it in the sense that I didn't do anything to observe it. But since Administrative Professionals Day is my very least favorite unofficial secular holiday of the entire year, I didn't actually miss it. I wish it would be erased from the calendar of days to observe each year.

Other secular holidays like Mothers' Day or Fathers' Day or even Grandparents' Day I understand. I can usually pick out a mother or a father or even a grandparent from a crowd. And even if I make a mistake and assume an adult woman is a mother and she turns out not to be, I can at least be assured that she had a mother so the day has some meaning for her.

But how do you pick out an administrative professional from a crowd? What does an administrative professional look like? 

I've seen restaurants hand out roses to every woman who walked in on Administrative Professionals Day with a "Happy Admin Day" greeting, making at least as many errors by handing roses to women who weren't admin professionals as they got it right. At my office one year, everyone whose desk was in the interior corridor in front of the offices with windows and doors, where the secretaries' desks were, got a plant on their desks on Administrative Professionals Day, including a couple of men whose desks were in that row, although they didn't have the same position titles as the women. At least one was not pleased that the bosses didn't seem to recognize the difference in their titles and responsibilities.

But this year, I am glad for the holiday because it brought to mind the many women who were our receptionists and secretaries with National Iranian Radio and Television (NIRT). Each was memorable, some even unforgettable.

Our first receptionist was Shahni, a nickname. Her real name was probably Shahnaz. She was married to an American who came with her to Tehran, but they were no longer living together. Her uncle died shortly after we arrived so we learned a bit about the mourning process in Iran. It was customary for close family members to remain in mourning for 40 days. In Shahni's case, that meant she wore black dresses, some of the sexiest dresses I have ever seen, for 40 days.

When Shahni stopped working for us, Parvin* became our receptionist. She didn't last very long. Her English wasn't very strong. I asked her to write a note for our landlord about the lack of hot water in the kitchen to let him know we needed a plumber. When someone else read her note, he said the verb she used more closely translated to the hot water tap being broken into pieces than not functioning as it should. When we asked her to makes photocopies for us, she never did the work. When we asked her why, she explained that she had looked up the word receptionist in the dictionary and she learned that a receptionist answers the telephone and greets people. That's all she expected to do.

Fereshteh,* the woman who arranged the repair of our washing machine, began when Parvin left. 

Shellagh and Bill

Our first secretary was Mary whose husband probably worked for one of the American oil companies in Iran. It was Mary who invited us all to the Christmas party which led to our adventure on the bus.  Mary and her family left Iran very suddenly. I didn't learn the reason until a few years later when Neal and Shirley came through Minneapolis. I had heard the story generally, but didn't realize that Mary's family was one of those involved. 

An American student at the Tehran American School was arrested for possession of heroin. He was 17 years old, although Iranians considered him 18, and therefore an adult. It took a doctor's testimony that based on his analysis of the boy's X-rays, the boy could not be older than 17 for the court to dismiss the charges against him as an adult. As a minor, the court ordered him to leave the country. Officials at the Tehran American School made it clear to the parents of other students they had reason to believe were involved with drug use that they should take their children out of the country as soon as possible. One of those students was Mary's son.

Jennifer* and Keith*

When Mary left, Shellagh took her place. Shellagh is Australian, married to Bill from Scotland. Bill met Shellagh on a business trip to Australia. Bill worked for IBM in Tehran. Shellagh started working with us when we were still in our office on Takhte Tavoos Ave and she continued when we moved to the space on Pahlavi Blvd where our classes were held after the first year. Shellagh and Bill lived close to several of us so we socialized with them often. When they learned Bill was being transferred to Paris, Shellagh told us she hoped she would be able to find a program to learn French like our program. I continue to hear from Shellagh and Bill each year at Christmas. I was able to visit them in Paris at Christmas when I lived in Romania as well as several other times when I was in Paris on business. Mom and Dad and I also stopped in Paris to visit them on our way home from Romania. When my sister Joan and her family lived in Paris they also met Bill and Shellagh.

Jennifer* began when Shellagh left. Jennifer looked like Valerie Bertinelli and was married to Keith*, whom Karl knew from his days as a Fulbright researcher in Isfahan. Jennifer's parents also lived in Tehran which is how Jennifer met Keith.

This year, to observe Administrative Professionals Day I say thanks for the memories.

*a name, not necessarily the right one

Day 116 - Two Projects From the Writers Exercise Generator

Project One:

Write a hundred word business report on the agricultural potential of magic beans.

image by chiptape, via Flickr

Carlysle Agro-Industries announced today that years of research and experimentation has resulted in the development of a remarkable new strain of bean with exceptional properties. The researchers who developed the bean dubbed it a magic bean because of the potential it holds for medicinal and nutritional purposes.

Injections of an extract from the new bean, officially named Phaseolus Magus, have completely shrunk several types of cancerous tumors in mice, including cancer of the stomach, lung, liver, and kidney.  A second extract is being tested as a treatment for leukemia.

In addition to these medicinal properties, the bean has double protein levels and amino acids needed for protein production of soy beans, on a par with the protein obtained from lean beef. More remarkable is that the bean contains a complete set of essential amino acids, the only such vegetable protein source. This property alone has the potential for wiping out malnutrition in areas where meat, poultry or fish sources of protein are not sufficient.

The bean is drought tolerant and resistant to common viral, fungal and rot that affect other varieties of beans, making it a hardy crop in tropical, semi-tropical, and temperate climates. The typical yield from a new bean crop is at least 50% higher on average than can be obtained from other bean varieties. One reason for the significantly higher yields is the spectacular heights the vines reach when mature.  The circumference of a mature vine averages four feet which is sufficient for the vines to grow upwards without supporting structures. After the beans have been harvested, the vines can also be harvested as building materials as strong as oak planks.

Carlysle Agro-Industries estimates the annual income from the sale of the new bean will exceed $50 million per year. Carlysle plans to set aside a percentage of the profits for scholarships to students committed to pursuing careers in science or agriculture.

Project Two:

Write an upbeat press release announcing Jack's murder of the giant.

Image by Peter Martin Hall, via Flickr

The village of Whitley is a safer place now that Officer Jack Black of the Whitley Municipal Police Department has killed the Whitley giant who had terrorized residents for the past five years.

Police say the 119-year-old victim tossed boulders at law enforcement for an hour while hiding in a lighthouse before being fatally wounded by Officer Black.

The victim was a suspect in more than 50 disappearances of children from the Whitley area.  None of the missing children have been found, although nearly all were last seen in the vicinity of an oversized vine that had grown so tall its top reached the clouds above the Whitley Cemetery. Attempts to capture the giant and take him in for questioning with regard to the disappearances failed several times during the past year.

On Friday Mayor Haskel Thompkins told the people of Whitley, "We've closed an important chapter in this tragedy." 

Day 114 - Ethical Questions, Cultural Differences

image by shinealight, via Flickr 

For a year before I retired from the Department of State, I worked as one of the examiners who observed and assigned scores based on performance in a series of oral assessments by candidates for the U.S. Foreign Service. Each candidate had already scored high enough on the written examination to be invited for the oral assessment. More than 4,000 people take the written exam each year. About 10% score high enough to be invited for the oral assessment. About 25% of those score high enough on the oral assessment for their names to be placed on a register from which candidates are invited to join the Foreign Service. Names remain on the register for 18 months which means only about 35% of the names on the list are offered a position. Competition is tough. And the candidates were equally competitive.

Candidates were scored against 13 dimensions: composure, cultural adaptability, experience and motivation, information integration and analysis, initiative and leadership, judgment, objectivity and integrity, oral communication, planning and organizing, quantitative analysis, resourcefulness.  Several of these dimensions involved questions that presented ethical dilemmas. Our goal, as assessors, was to evaluate how well the candidates responded which involved scores for information integration and analysis, judgment, and objectivity and integrity.

The most revealing questions were those we asked the candidates to describe from their experience a time when they had to make a difficult decision. In those cases, the stories indicated the candidate's definition of difficult as well as what they considered an appropriate response to be.

This story is not one I would use in the oral assessment environment since I don't consider it to be all that difficult a decision. But it illustrates how what is appropriate differs from one culture to another.

I used to take the metro to work. The Foggy Bottom stop was four blocks from my office. It was inevitable that I would encounter friends, colleagues, and acquaintances on the sidewalk between the stop and State Annex 1 where my office was.

One day I found myself behind an acquaintance. I knew where she worked. I knew her name. But she wasn't a colleague or a friend. What caught my attention was that she was wearing a skirt that was very thin. And the label at the back was sticking out at the top. And that tiny label drew my attention so that I then saw, because the skirt was very thin, that she was wearing a thong.

If the label had been sticking out the top of a jacket, a blouse, or a dress, I would have walked a little faster to catch up with her and either told her that the label was sticking out or told her that I would tuck it in for her. But the label was sticking out the top of her skirt. If I walked up to tell her the label was sticking out above her skirt, I would be ignoring the more dramatic issue - her translucent skirt and what else could be seen from behind.

So I decided to mind my own business. I decided that it might be more embarrassing to her to know that her thong could be seen beneath her skirt because she was unlikely to be able to do anything about it. I had never seen slips on sale nearby the office. Alternatively, I considered that perhaps she knew very well that her skirt was nearly translucent and she might consider my telling her about it interference, judgment, being a busy body.

Then I started thinking about how the same situation might be handled in Barbados.  There, since she was not a friend, just an acquaintance, the expectation would be for me to tell her what to do to correct the problem. Tuck in the label in the back of your skirt would take care of part of the problem. But what in that culture should I tell her to correct the translucent skirt? Fix your skirt just doesn't seem specific enough. Go home and change your skirt might not be feasible. Put on a slip might be appropriate, but still not feasible.

Ethical dilemmas make such good stories.