If the US Embassy is anything like other federal governmental offices, the mailman brings huge quantities of printed matter every day, reflecting every slightly altered nuance of procedures that are mandated by Congress and whomever else is empowered to make trivial amendments to rules land regulations.
Presumably, somebody (the Ambassador or his staff) needs to at least put all this stuff on shelves, if not read it and be aware of its contents. The Embassy staff includes (at least) a US Marine in full-dress uniform standing at the front door. To guard and secure the mission.
In Amman, a good friend of mine was the First Secretary at the Embassy of South Vietnam. There was only he and the ambassador. He didn’t even have a car at his disposal, and he lived on a cot in the consular office. The two of them were the entire staff. He was at my house when Saigon fell. I drove him down to the embassy, and the ambassador had already looted it. He was suddenly a man without a job, abroad with a passport to what had just become a non-existent country. He successfully got out, and I heard from him in Marseilles, where he had a daughter.