The Interview

September 7, 2011

Today is the day that I've been waiting for since I applied to the Peace Corps more than a week ago.

As I am driving to the regional recruiting office less than an hour away from my home on a very hot September early afternoon wearing a brown monkey suit, albeit a Jean-Paul Gautier, I am "feeling" how the interview process will go. The car radio is playing traditional Mexican music just to create an international ambiance...plus I'm too lazy to change the station as I'm in my own reverie of thinking of answers to questions. I know this will be a no-brainer.

My cell phone rang as I parked my car across the building where I will fatefully make an impression in Johann's office. Restricted. It must be Carla so I called her back. She tells me she has her fingers crossed and will be wishing me luck. I ask her to cross every finger that she owns including the 10 toes. To kill some extra minutes, we chatted about her cooking adventure in her solar oven before I was to traverse the long pedestrian crosswalk to get to the other side where my appearance, my demeanor, my answers, and hopefully my fate will take me to the other side of the globe.

As I enter the building's lobby, I immediately see a big Peace Corps logo and I was pleased that the office was located on ground level. Easy enough, no need to find it in the directory and ride the elevator. I pulled the door handle but it wouldn't open. I hadn't buzz myself in so a receptionist stood up from her desk to open the door allowing me entrance. As I walked in, soon afterwards a tall man gives me papers to fill out. After 15 minutes of filling information and watching the receptionist and the tall man talk about banal office issues, shortly, my recruiter approached me with a smile and we formally meet and greet.

I followed him to his office along a long row of corridor with offices on both side. Each was decorated with souvenir knick knacks from the country that each recruiter had previously served. I joked that this is a travel agency. I sat down in front of Johann in his office where my eyes roamed around stopping at the shelves, walls, desk or anywhere a Moldavian trinket may rest. I feel like I'm in the Moldavia Office of Tourism. I can tell he has done this many times when his spiel was hurried and unemotional as he proceeded to explain the interview process. For the next hour and half, like an automatic machine gun, he fired questions at me one after the other and as I answered them, he stared at me unmoving, his fingers like a cat on a hot tin roof, typed away in full speed for he transcribed the entire interview for Washington D.C. to review. He did warn me that it may be off putting. Initially it didn't bother me but then soon I knew what he meant. It was distracting as I was competing to hear my own thought and voice over his rapid staccato typing. Except for one question that I struggled with but only because it didn't apply to me, I felt I passed the interview without seeming like a wuss. After our interview was finished, an elaborate set of fingerprints were taken...surprised that toe prints weren't asked.

Conclusion is that I am a competitive candidate and is worth keeping in the application process. I qualify under three sectors: Community Development, Business Development, and the very rare Fine Arts Program. The Next step is the coveted nomination in which Johann will try to hook me up to a general assignment suitable to my skills upon the next job opening in mid September. What makes me anxious is the competition amongst other well qualified applicants.

I am now at the mercy of Johann, my recruiter and God knows how many excellent candidates out there...I am a compassionate person who never wishes anything ill to anyone...but up to this point, I wish they all suck.