A Pinch of Story Becoming a Civil Servant at the Ministry of Religion

When written in Chinese, the word "crisis" consists of two characters, one representing danger and the other representing opportunity. - John F. Kennedy

Since junior high, I've had a deep understanding of the civil service candidate selection process, thanks to my mother, a dedicated civil servant, who instilled in me a profound respect for her profession. Growing up, I was surrounded by admiration for civil servants in my community, which fueled my desire to work in public service.

In 2013, armed with a bachelor's degree in English Literature and supported by my parents, I eagerly attempted the state exam for civil service candidates at several ministries. Unfortunately, I didn't succeed on my first try, which led to two years of job hunting before I could resume my postgraduate studies. Despite balancing academic pursuits with part-time jobs, I remained determined to try again.

After completing my master's degree and securing a full-time lecturer position at a private university, my financial situation improved, but my enthusiasm for the competitive civil service selection process dwindled.

Surprisingly, as my interest in the Civil Servants Candidates selection decreased, my chances of success unexpectedly improved. This time, when I applied for the Ministry of Education and Culture, I did it with the mindset that I had nothing to lose. Passing would have been great, but even if I didn't, I still had my job. It may sound a bit confident, but that's how I saw it. Sadly, the outcome was the same: I didn't make it. This time, I felt a mix of disappointment and deep shame because, deep down, I still really wanted that opportunity.

A year after my previous attempt with the Ministry of Education and Culture, the government opened another similar opportunity. Before signing up, I made a conscious decision to change my perspective. This time, I aimed to actively participate and be chosen, which needed a carefully planned strategy. Instead of randomly choosing highly competitive positions in big cities and relying only on luck, I picked roles with less appeal but higher chances of success, even if they were far away.

This change in mindset was crucial because before, I had only focused on passing the exam without preparing properly. This time, even though there were still millions of other applicants, this particular exam felt different. Faced with such a large number of competitors, I battled with negative thoughts, questioning my abilities: "Can I really do this?" This time, I realized the importance of learning and improving, no matter how difficult it seemed. Despite feeling exhausted from working tirelessly day and night, I pushed myself to go through practice questions.

It wasn't an ideal situation, but I convinced myself that I would accept failure gracefully if it happened. I wouldn't openly mock it, even though I might wonder why others succeeded while I didn't. And the result? Once again, I fell short, not meeting the Basic Proficiency Test criterion. My feelings were similar to my past disappointments; the possibility of passing the Civil Servants Candidates selection had changed from being distant to seeming impossible.

However, an unexpected turn of events occurred. After failing the Basic Proficiency Test and not hearing anything more about the selection process that year, it was revealed that the top three candidates were eligible for the Aptitude Test. I was ecstatic yet also incredulous. It was a rare chance for those who had seemingly failed to get a second shot. Despite the limited time, I diligently prepared for the Aptitude Test.

In the fiscal year 2018, I applied for the position of English Morphology lecturer at the Ministry of Religion, specifically at STAIN Mandailing Natal. This unit could only accommodate one general applicant and two best graduate applicants, with five in the general category and none in Cum Laude. I had to gear up because each participant's unit conducted the Aptitude Test. And where was mine? It was in Mandailing Natal, a place I had only heard of but never visited. From various sources, I learned that the journey to Madina would take around 12 hours.

I want to express my sincere gratitude, but if I had to say it directly, I'd feel a mix of pride and embarrassment. So, I'll take this chance to convey my heartfelt thanks to my only brother, who generously drove me to the test site despite not having a backup driver. I also appreciate his patience during the exam, despite some complaints when I struggled to stay awake as our car was caught in a rainstorm in the middle of the night.

Shortly after the government officially announced the Aptitude Test, the exam committee for the campus I applied to created a WhatsApp group. I was pleasantly surprised to find that I was already a member of the chat group. Knowing that the committee had tried to invite hundreds of us was reassuring.

The group acted as the main communication channel between the committee and potential examinees, sharing details about the timing, location, and procedures of the examination process. It also promptly addressed queries about nearby accommodation options and the best ways to reach the exam venue, which was particularly useful for those traveling from outside Mandailing Natal.

I received crucial information about the exam: it would last three days, including psychological tests, interviews, and practical tasks, all completed sequentially from the first to the last day. Along with following the dress code of a white shirt, black skirt, and headscarf, I had to remember to bring my original Identity and Examination Card and any other necessary items specific to the formation I applied for. This included the Semester Learning Plan, Teaching Materials for the subject I applied for, and a comprehensive portfolio with supporting documents such as Teaching Decrees, training certificates, and printed published scientific papers, if applicable.

The Ministry of Religion's Aptitude Test system was consistent across all formations, with variations only in the Work Practice Test depending on the specific position formation.

PSYCHOLOGICAL TEST ON DAY ONE

The Psychological Test in this phase appeared more manageable than in the Basic Ability Selection. Still, it posed a subtle challenge if we focused solely on it. The evaluation tool used was the EPPS (Edward Personal Preference Schedule), designed to delve into our personalities. The first section of this personality test didn't involve conventional questions; instead, it presented us with statements, and for each statement number, we had to choose between Yes or No as our response.

As I understood, our choices in this section reflected our individuality, motivations, goals, and needs. Importantly, there were no right or wrong answers, but the personality traits inferred from our choices would be used to gauge our suitability for the position we were applying for.

The second section comprised typical psychological test questions covering numerical, logical, verbal, spatial, and pictorial aspects. Fortunately, the problems here appeared less daunting than those encountered in the Basic Proficiency Test. We were tasked with answering approximately 150 questions within a generous time frame of 3 hours. While this duration might seem ample, it was important to proceed with care, given that the examination involved manual completion of a Computer Answer Sheet and several repeated statements.

INTERVIEWS ON DAY TWO

This marked my inaugural interview experience, and without anyone nearby to seek advice or input from, I resorted to the simplest solution that came to mind: turning to Google. I sought insights on what questions might come my way. Some responses suggested that the interviewer might inquire about our familiarity with the company we were applying to. Company? I pondered this, assuming I'd be asked about the campus where I sought employment. While waiting for my turn, I overheard snippets of conversation among fellow participants. Some suspected they might be quizzed on the code of ethics for civil servants and lecturers, so I also decided to look it up online.

As it turned out, all our speculations were off the mark. The questions posed during the interview were different from your typical interview fare. The interviewer simply read out questions that appeared to come as part of a package, complete with prescribed answers. Before diving into the Q&A session, I was asked to introduce myself.

A few questions from the interview have stayed with me. For instance, I was asked about the course of action I would take as a State Civil Apparatus if a community of a different faith requested a permit to construct their place of worship. Another query centered on how I would exercise my voting rights if a presidential candidate of another religion was running for office. Then, there was the hypothetical situation where my boss scheduled me to leave town while my ailing parents urgently needed my presence.

My friends and I, who had unconsciously formed small groups due to our repeated proximity, concluded that the interview gauged our love for our country through our commitment to it while respecting our religious beliefs. The discussion showed a civil servant's responsibilities while safeguarding the associated rights.

In essence, the takeaway was that regardless of the sensitivity of the questions, our responses should hark back to the foundational principles of our state, namely Pancasila and the 1945 Constitution. For example, when faced with granting permission to construct a place of worship, we were expected to prioritize the fulfillment of our office's mandate following the prevailing law, irrespective of our personal beliefs about religious practices.

MICROTEACHING ON DAY THREE

After my introduction, I had approximately 15 minutes to present the course material I would be teaching if I were to pass the interview. In addition to assessing our teaching capabilities, the examiner also inquired about our proficiency in foreign languages and our expertise in the latest technologies we had mastered.

Drawing from my personal experience, I'd like to offer some advice to anyone facing a similar situation:
  • Begin by seeking guidance from Allah, the Most Merciful God, and pray for the best possible results.
  • When applying for a teaching or lecturing position, choose the material you are most proficient in within the subject area. It doesn't have to be lengthy; focus on presenting something you truly understand.
  • If you are applying for a job in a new location, consider arriving at the destination at least one day before the exam. This allows you to calculate the distance to your exam venue and ensure you are well-prepared.
  • Don't settle for mediocre white shirts; ensure your attire reflects professionalism.
  • Complete all required documents well before the exam day to avoid unnecessary stress caused by time constraints.
  • Remember to consider psychological tests that may appear straightforward. Remember, this is your final stage and opportunity to make an impression.
  • Avoid passing judgment on fellow applicants whom you may see as competitors. Refrain from belittling or intimidating others; instead, focus on your preparation.
  • Embrace the process and enjoy the journey, knowing that hard work consistently pays off, whereas dreams can remain elusive.
  • Finally, be prepared to handle various outcomes, as sometimes, despite our prayers, God's response may take a different path.
My first encounter with the Aptitude Test gave me a fresh perspective, revealing that the Civil Servant position was attainable for anyone. I no longer regarded it as an insurmountable challenge. So, did the outcomes align with the efforts I had invested and the prayers I had offered? The answer is both no and yes.

The year 2018 concluded with the disappointing announcement that I and many other participants had yet to succeed. It was a profound disappointment. I couldn't help but question whether all my endeavors had been in vain. What was the point of undertaking lengthy journeys, spending a considerable sum on exam-related accommodation, only to face failure? Instead of admitting my defeat, I chose to bury that experience deep within me, pretending it never happened. However, such an answer often resurfaces when we least expect it, as if it had always been remembered.

During my engagement in the selection process, a friend informed me in mid-March 2019 that we had successfully passed the Phase II category. I sought confirmation from other friends to ensure the accuracy of this news and whether it had been officially communicated by the Ministry of Religion. The response was unanimous: we had indeed succeeded.

How did it feel? I was elated, yet I consciously tried not to excessively express my joy. After experiencing failure twice and achieving success, I decided to temper my emotions. Even when hospital staff, while verifying my certificate of physical and mental health, inquired if I was one of the successful candidates, it didn't perturb me. Instead, I found it amusing, as the reality of my success still felt surreal and difficult to fully grasp.

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