The Andromeda Council

The Andromeda Council

And other stories

Clethe Gubler

Preface

Behind some old fashioned stereotypes about diplomat life, few stop to think that behind this glittering facade, thousands of families are facing all the routines and unexpected challenges of life - births, deaths, parenting, divorce - far from home, relatives, and friends, in an unfamiliar and sometimes unfriendly country and culture. Living abroad might be connected with several challenges. To avoid unpleasant surprises you should prepare yourself.

A few studies about expatriates indicate that the majority are females with higher education and children. Some arrive with hopes to realize their personal development. They wish to give their children new experiences related to language and culture. Some women also expect a better quality of life, and see this as an opportunity to spend more time with their family. One particular study indicates that moving to another culture consists of losing earlier identity and creating a new one. Unfortunately, for some of these individuals it might lead to depression.

Actually, there is a bold example of how all of us can truly get involved in the places in which we live and strive to make a difference as unofficial diplomats.

Being able to think out of the box or non-traditional, will probably make the trip more pleasant and interesting. You have to get adapted to all kinds of colours and flavours, even if you do not like them.

Diplomacy is the art of telling people to go to hell in such a way that they ask for directions.”
― Winston Churchill

It becomes an art to balance this sport well, which takes a lot of practice, because the fall could be rather serious. On the other hand, the new situation might give you a broad experience that is both attractive and unique, and make you become more globalised.

The message is clear: Look carefully after possibilities and do not fail to focus on your own limits. Incorporate new languages and culture into your own, and even increase your self-knowledge, and remember to keep the doors open!

The author of these vignettes/stories and also the partner of a Swiss diplomat, Clethe Gubler, provides reflections on the realities of Foreign Service life as experienced in several places around the world. In addition to her previous career as a lawyer, she is well known by her friends as an enthusiastic and caring person with a huge repertoire. Her colourful personality followed by a witty reply, as well as her interesting thoughts based on knowledge and true experiences from the diplomatic trenches. Clethe gives us a better understanding and greater insight about the contemporary role of diplomat spouses. She wants to share her learned lessons with others.

Enjoy.

Strasbourg, 10^th of May,

Hanne Berge

Introduction

This brief account of my experience of living around the world is the result of a request. I was born in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil and graduated in law. I have been a nomad all my life, because my father was a medical doctor in the army. Then I married an official of the Foreign Service. Our daughter attended several schools in different countries and parents were requested to present some information about their careers, as part of a vocational choice program, for students. Those conferences were intended to facilitate their professional choice in the future, but many questions remained without a more complete answer, due to the limited time we were given. Later, other young graduate raised specific questions about diplomatic career, living abroad, and how to cope with all the necessary requirements of personal order.

I’m not an expert in anything, just an ordinary person who searches for extraordinary knowledge. And what I have seen on the road, perhaps could help someone. So this simple, informal work is intended for all our friends who asked me to write about this experience. It’s also meant for students, during their preparatory years. Information concerning how to apply and which requirements should be fulfilled, for any career, can be easily found in the mainstream press and on the Internet. No one needs me for that. But my contribution refers to the human factor, therefore, it’s unique and legitimate.

First consequence of living abroad? You realize that life followed its natural course in your hometown, family and friends managed to carry on quite well… Your own country changed and it may be a different place when you see it next time! Where exactly are you coming back to, and for whom? Which is your place in that future new society? After so many years on duty abroad, you will have to rebuild a new life by the time of your return, in the form of new friends, network of contacts, perhaps even a new home. But remember that we all carry our world inside us, no matter where the journey leads you to. Mine had led me here and I still continue, striving to always walk one more mile.

I had the honor to meet extraordinary people, a king and crown princes, high dignitaries, writers, politicians and artists. However, my greatest pride and joy stems from being a wife and a mom in my amazing family!

And our story continues to many other new posts ahead.

“In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I’ve been turning over in my mind ever since.

“Whenever you feel like criticizing any one”, he told me, “just remember that all the people in this world haven’t had the advantages that you’ve had”.

He didn’t say any more, but we’ve always been unusually communicative in a reserved way, and I understood that he meant a great deal more than that.”

The Great Gatsby

By F. Scott Fitzgerald

SUMMER 1991. The Hague Academy of International Law (The Netherlands).

While attending an extension course on Public International Law, colleagues introduced me to a Swiss diplomat who became my husband two years later.

“Why did you join the Foreign Service?” I asked, just to start conversation.

“I wanted to work and travel around the world” he said.

I promptly added: “You could have joined the Navy”… My absent minded comment!

“There is no Navy in Switzerland!” (followed by an awkward silence …..)

I was sure he would never greet me ever again. But for my total astonishment, he invited me for dinner. We kept dating through those weeks and when summer had gone, he said he would like to see me for Christmas in Rio de Janeiro, with my family.

The difficult thing would be to gather that tribe together: my parents had been travelling around for years (my father is a medical doctor in the army) and my sisters had their own families and careers elsewhere, in the best tradition of a nomad (military) family in which I was brought up. But in that year, the Universe conspired in my favour and this airline crew that I called my family, happened to be together in the same city! At the same time! All I asked of them was to adopt the face of decent people, because a dear friend of mine would visit us for Christmas.

I was working in Brasilia, providing legal advisory to a congressman. And I was coming back to Rio de Janeiro, the family headquarter, for the end of the year holidays. We lived in the lovely tourist district of Cosme Velho, facing the hill of Corcovado, where the statue of Christ the Redeemer is located. We had a charming Art Deco style villa, where each one of us had our own schedules, earlier. My father locked up in his library, my mother had her own painting room and private retreat, my sisters would finish school on different timetables. And I had law school in the mornings, combined to extra-curricular activities. Not to mention horse riding lessons, that I took “in secret”, my mother wanted me to concentrate on my studies. Later my father bought a clinic with some associates and they thought I could join the staff, as legal advisor. My other sister studied medicine for the same reason.

As time went by, I saw my plans to join the Fine Arts School waving good-bye to me. It seems that my future had been already designed in some sort of conspiracy scheme. But that “script” was about to change when I accepted a post at the Foreign Office in Brasilia, shortly after my graduation. My two sisters moved away from Rio, due to career or marriage reasons. And my father decided to sell his clinic. Once working in Brasilia, I read about The Hague Academy, in the Netherlands. So I saw the opportunity to attend an important extension course that could help me improve my skills and competences. Then came a second turning point in my life, which would never be the same again…

So in December 1991 I was proposed to, just six months after we met in the Netherlands. Meanwhile, I would need to put an end to my professional contract, due to the fact that by that time, a marriage to a foreign citizen, working for his government (my case), would not be considered “politically correct”. Of course nowadays, the situation improved.

No need to mention how shocked my parents were, to know I decided to give everything up, for love. After all, I had been working for eleven years, building up a steady career. When I finally found a place in the sun, respect and credibility, in the city that hosts the center of power and finance (Brasilia), I abruptly announced I’m leaving my career, my country and the nomad tribe of travelers that was my family… And on top of that, to live abroad, where no one knew me, where I had no network, no friends! I would have to be in charge of a household (with some luck a cleaning lady could come once or twice a week, for a couple of hours), I would have to do the laundry, shopping in the supermarket and cook! Things I never did before, because in Brazil no one lives without a good maid, cook, driver and gardener (at least at that time). Nowadays, the social charges caused a considerable reduction of domestic employees. My statement had the effect of an earthquake, even in that unconventional family. For the first time, my mother took her eyes out of her canvas, paint tubes and brushes, my father put down his newspapers. For once, the stock market lost all of its interest!

“This girl has gone out of her mind!” they said. “This cannot be serious!”

“But who is this young man, does anybody know him?”

“Mom, he came here for Christmas, then he asked for an extension of his leave, he stayed for New Year’s Eve Party. He was among the guests…” I used this old strategy to keep a link of dialogue with my inquisitors.

Another earthquake stroke the grounds, eyes of incomprehension and disbelief staring at me:

“But you hardly have any time to take care of your Chihuahua puppies, how do you intend to become a mother?”

Finally, I was sentenced with capital punishment:

“If you decide to leave everything, forget you had a family…”

A thunder, foreshadowing the storm that was to come, burst outside, killing the atmosphere in a devastating fury. The bonfire was lit, yet not in my honor, but to put me in it.

Well, that would not be very difficult after years of boarding school. Suddenly, an old flashback sends me away in time and space. I was just eight years old, I’m taken to the car, together with my younger sister. Before dropping us off at boarding school, some hours before their plane took off, my parents gave me pieces of precious advice: “Remember to say excuse-me, thank you, good-morning and good-bye in many languages. Pay your bills before the deadlines. Take your garbage bags to the street, daily. Stand up to shake hands. Good-bye and good-luck in life.” After that night, we would only meet once a year, for summer holidays. With some luck, maybe for Christmas and New Year, if they would not be travelling for either professional or private reasons. Boarding school was our private Vietnam. Discipline, rigid timetables (which we never had before), sports and endless homework. Once a week, the governess in our home would come to see us to update news from our parents. We showed her how much our calligraphy had improved, because after all homework was done, they would send us to the library, to copy passages of the Bible. My favorite one was the Old Testament. Sweets were not allowed, but our governess always managed to smuggle her cakes to us. My young sister hated the school “healthy food”. I always assured her that our parents would come for Christmas concert, but that never happened. I didn’t mind much, I think I would even prefer to be free, as I had always been. But the poor girl was only five and she missed her mom. When she started to climb to the roof, to eat her picnic at the heights, the mother superior called my parents, suggesting a more informal school for her. But I carried on, I had no choice. Coming back home for the holidays, was more awkward for me.

So, as a matter of fact, from now on nothing would change much. Twenty years later, I finally cut the cord. Now it was official, perhaps even the “New York Times” would publish it on the front page: “She’s Leaving Forever!”…

At the end of my holidays, I drove my future husband to the airport, while arranging to meet in that same place in six months. From there, we would take another plane to Brasilia in order to start our own family. We kissed and I took the second plane, back to the preparations of our common future. My parents were reluctant to attend the wedding ceremony, but I threatened that my future father in law would give me away, and I would spread the rumor that I was an orphan (not very different from reality)! The next year our daughter was born, which brought my parents a little bit nearer to me.

Our life in Brasilia was marvelous, first due to the fact that I was in my own country. So I could adapt easier to my new functions.

Entertaining the usual suspects, attending official events, building a network of contacts, translating newspapers to help my husband understand the country in which he was, because of me! Not very easy to explain a country like Brazil… Absolutely beautiful land and yet so controversial!

I remember his colleagues at the office saying “how can one know what a Brazilian thinks?” “They cannot respect deadlines, they are always late for meetings”. Shame…

I felt embarrassed, but at the same time, my new compatriots adopted me quickly, as one of them. The Swiss wives came to my house, invited me in return, they were really lovely and attentive to me. I owe a lot to these early “travel companions” and I never had a chance to say how much I was thankful that they gave me the privilege of their friendship. When we were finally transferred back to Bern, to the Protocol Service, I had the real dimension of living in Switzerland and what this would imply!

A Brazilian in Switzerland.

“Don’t worry”, said my mother in law. “We didn’t have so much snow recently”, “It’s not as bad as you heard”…

Three months later the press announced the coldest winter of the recent one hundred years. The snow could reach my knees. As I drove to the nearest supermarket (how I hate supermarkets, no matter where I am!), my car slipped twice, it was like driving on mud, a nightmare. And when I got finally stuck, it was the wives of colleagues who helped push my car away. And they reminded me there was something called “special tires for snow”! I felt like an extraterrestrial, just landed from Mars…

The year I made contact with the earth! 1996, what a long process of learning all I needed to know, to survive in a new society. So many new codes, habits, usages. Yet the moral obligation to prove to my parents that I could do it without any help, especially not from them! And more, I could not disappoint the one who believed in me, who trusted me to share the rest of his life. Someone with so much courage, I would not dare to disappoint.

Because everybody deserves a chance in life, I had precious help from my new Swiss family. My new “mother”, soon understood I had been wandering alone, like a lonely wolf. They told me I should call them “Mom” and “Dad”, and from now on, I would have a family, a real one, a complete family! Something like baking Christmas cookies together, sitting together at the table, at the same time and kissing good night at the end of the day. The Swiss people taught me all these simple joys of life. They gave me love and a family life, they helped me to accept timetables and name cards at the table. For the first time I had a group of people who cared about me. For the first time I had someone who needed me. For once and forever! From that moment on, I would never be a lonely wolf again. Thanks to them I never felt like a foreigner or alien. My Swiss mother even learned Portuguese, in order to speak to my heart. The other young children of the family asked the meaning of some words, whenever I spoke to my daughter. Brazilians can be very sweet and tender with their own children. My Swiss nieces always asked why I was kissing my daughter! Because I love her, that’s why…

The family shares a nineteen-century villa at the heights of Zollikon, a hill over the lake of Zurich. They have been occupying the same home, generation after generation, unbelievable for a nomad like me. Along the stairway there are oil paintings, portraits of their ancestors and former tenants of the house. When we came for the weekends, my mother in law had to cover these paintings because they would scare our daughter; I think this would remind her about the school of Harry Potter… But I told her I attended that school when I was eight and there was nothing to fear (and it was true!).

During summer, meals were served outside, on the garden, from where we could see the lake. And we would always play together with the children, our own daughter and the two girls from my sister in law, who also lived in the house. A huge, century old oak tree provided the ideal place to hide. And there is also a wooden shack to keep gardening tools. My father in law is also a talented sailing-boat navigator, what provided an extra-attraction: the boat garage. Not to mention the biggest electric trains collection I ever saw, beautiful century old collection dolls, miniature wooden furniture, countless boxes of games, music instruments, silver portraits, leather bound books and my favorite place, the “Orangerie”, a glass-dome veranda located at the first floor, which seemed to float on the air, where lovely tenacota flower pots were stored, waiting for the next summer days. There I could hide to paint my watercolours, but I was soon discovered, because the big house welcomed visitors every day, especially for the five o’clock tea. This was an array of pastries, cookies (homemade) cakes, hot chocolate drinks, teas from all over the world. The first time my mother in law asked “India” or “China”? I thought she wanted to know about my political ideology, but my husband kicked my feet under the table, so that I understood I just had to choose a kind of tea…

Occasionally I received post-cards from my Brazilian parents: “Greetings from Istanbul”, “greetings from Ukraine”, “Greece, wish you were here”, etc.

They would never change! But I was happy for them, that they could be on cruise ships as much as they wanted, or that my mother could ride a camel through the Jordanian desert.

“Unfortunately we cannot come for Christmas, we were invited for a wedding party in Dubai…” always the most exotic reasons.

“Sorry we missed your birthday; we were buying a farm, to start breeding ostriches.”

I always maintained that people should pass professional exams to become parents…

STRASBOURG, FRANCE (2011-2014)

Just another routine day: Wednesday 8 a.m. The lady who helps me at home comes desolated: “Madame, there is no more water and I still didn’t finish my work at the kitchen”!

My first thought goes to the eternal renovation works in any of the floors. The forty-year-old building starts to show signs that it can’t stand anymore. Newly arrived neighbors prefer to renew their “investment” at once. We’ve been living here for about two years and construction workers became my friends and confidents.

How amazing that routine can approach people from different backgrounds and nationalities! It’s what I call real team work! They ask about my life in France, I ask about their families. And they are always there, when I need a small work at home, myself. Not to mention taxi drivers, my consultants for both economic and political French matters. They can be so well informed… And I think they would make good journalists, or diplomats. All they need is to change to a dark suit. The proper suit can open doors and convince reticent officials about your competence, I heard from an anonymous interlocutor!

My first appointment for that day was scheduled for within 45 minutes. And the water supply in the building had been again cut for work reasons! Last week we had no electricity, for the same reason. And sometimes we have right to a lift on strike. But it’s all right, we saw much worse in the last twenty years of service. I finally resort to my old “war strategy”: a cold bath with two bottles of “Evian” mineral water. I improved this technique in Venezuela, where the water supply could be so precarious on summer… I’m proud to admit I acquired so many varied competences, by living around the world. Quite important nowadays, where just a university diploma is not enough to put you into business. The job market expects from candidates not only honesty, loyalty and competence, but also social ability, capacity to do group work, as well as the talent to co-exist with different nationalities. Young applicants should prove they master several competences such as high motivation level, and the charisma to motivate other team members. Leadership is also required, including the instruments to exercise such leadership (communication, feedback, attention, capacity for negotiation). In other words, no one is born a native leader but you must work hard to learn it. Good modern schools can already provide their students with this theme as an extra-curricular activity. Otherwise, read as much as you can, be extremely well informed and attend seminars where these topics will be discussed. Even if that implies using your holidays to fly to a foreign country where a workshop will be presented! Believe me, we did so.

CARACAS, VENEZUELA (2007-2011)

Criticism against this career? That we live in a different reality? Protected by a glass dome? Or that we represent a heavy burden for the national budget? That is an unfair criticism. On the one hand, we have the commitment to represent our nation’s interests, as well as those of our national’s, wherever they are.

This job implies perfect health and endurance above the average. Moving with your family around the world can also represent the possibility of risks to your health and to your life. I managed to escape kidnapping in Lima because I defended myself with an army knife.

In Caracas, we had to move from the first building where we chose to live, because twice it was invaded by organized crime gangs that kidnapped our neighbors from their garage. Not to mention two important earthquakes that almost cracked the building in two separate parts. We do not dispose of an extra budget for security service, so we must learn to do so ourselves. Although the best technique is to learn how to make yourself invisible for criminals.

In that same year, colleagues from other diplomatic missions were kidnapped or others, just followed, with the intention of robbery.

Meanwhile, those who may criticize members of Foreign Service are just sleeping peacefully in their beds. We may be waking up in the middle of the night, to embark in a plane, everywhere. If we may be invited to receptions, lunches or dinners, it’s always for the purpose of work: contacts with local government officials, journalists, or members of the local community. In an attempt to learn more, to be better informed and to build a bridge between the local government and our businessmen or congressmen. When we entertain at home, because we also play the role of public relations, we must respect a strict budget of expenses, and we must inform about the costs of our entertainment. The wives are expected to carry a thorough survey in order to select the best providers, who present the lowest costs. And the same when we move, always three options for moving companies, so that the fair price will prevail. We, the wives of Foreign Services officials, could make quite good economic advisors, in that sense!

We live in an era of the political correct, and this implies in dedicating part of your time to humanitarian work. Fund raising events, taking part in an array of food festivals, craft festivals, ballet concerts, music concerts. While our guests can simply choose a comfortable place to spend the evening and enjoy the spectacle, we are the little hands behind the scenes, that work to produce what everybody came to admire.

More or less like flight attendants who will continue smiling even during turbulence at ten thousand meters. We can also do the work of translators, drivers, cooks, nurses, social assistants. In the case of foreign wives, it’s a double challenge. We leave our own countries, where lies all our references (family, career, friends) to adopt a new land, a new language. After some time, we realize it’s not so easy to keep up with your primary family. Your former country changed, and followed the natural evolution of time. Your friends moved away, your family continued its own life; when we come to visit (luckily once a year, if so) it’s hard to keep up with so many changes. In financial terms, there may be some loss as well, and there I speak for myself, only!

I sold my apartment facing the beach in Rio de Janeiro Brazil, which was given to me by my family, as a wedding present. The country’s law does not allow illimited transfers of money to foreign banks. Sometime later, I even realized my money had gone, because those in my family to whom I counted on to administer my monetary reserves, had to pay the necessary taxes. And they can be so high in my former country! These are just small examples that may occur when you make the choice of living in another country.

Besides, much has been said concerning human rights for minorities, prisoners, political dissidents and so much was achieved after the need for help was made public. In fifty years, so much injustice could be avoided or minimized. And I’m so proud to be one of those who gave their humble contribution in the quest for a better tomorrow. But so few were told about the impact of moving constantly around the world. How does this practice affect our health? Which consequences are imposed? What can we do in order to facilitate our adaptation to our new post? To understand this long process, let’s focus on everybody’s beginning.

Having left behind your previous post and consequently an interesting group of smart people with whom you shared common tastes (music, concerts, literature groups, philosophy, studies, for example); you also left an apartment or house that you found after a long search (sometimes we must visit several ones, until we find the perfect balance between budget and housing conditions); if you have children, they will also feel sad for leaving their companions, games, pets and sports. Then we become their psychologist, making the bridge between reality and their personality. Luckily they soon react and are back to games and school. When they become teenagers there may be boyfriends or girlfriends around, they will cry as well, so be ready to offer enough paper tissues for all. The moment we left our last post, the other passengers in our plane, thanks to my daughter and her boyfriend, where offered the final scene of Romeo and Juliet, filled with promises of eternal love. By taking off, my daughter cried and didn’t stop for three days. Then comes the hunger strike for days still, protesting against our “cruelty”. Soon, a new city, a new hotel, while waiting for a new home, as well. Next, the expectation that our furniture will not be sent to Cochabamba, in Bolivia, by mistake (it can happen!), or that our container won’t fall in the sea during a heavy storm (it really happened!). Already settled down, it’s nice to invite our new colleagues to present ourselves, sometimes to thank their early invitations while we were still living at the hotel.

It’s all about re-building your “net”: contacts at government administration, colleagues from other diplomatic missions, key persons from the local society, artists, writers, musicians…

It takes around six months until you are perfectly operative, in other words, you found people to help at the house when you need, a good cook for special occasions, an interesting list of reliable suppliers (food, drinks, flowers). Catering services are expensive in some South American countries. So for one year, I did everything alone (cleaning, purchase of food at the market, writing invitations, serving, cleaning all the material after guests were gone). Fortunately I learned about international cooking in Boarding School. And later, our Ministry of Foreign Affairs offered a very interesting seminar on that matter!

But it may happen that your host country may “occasionally” suffer from shortage of basic food supply (flour, butter, sugar, eggs and beef, poultry, fish). Of course, I experienced all these important hard situations that help to forge and enhance your character…

This forces you to search in five different markets in just one morning, until you complete your ingredients for a convenient menu. You rush back home, prepare the best meal ever, set a beautiful table, make yourself ready in the blink of an eye. And the important guest was summoned by the military president at the same time you had invited him. No need to say who worked the whole morning for nothing… When this happens, keep calm, go to your garden and light a Cuban cigar, just once in a lifetime will make no harm to your health! And remember to cut that guest from your list. Because such a behavior may become a tendency, then you’ll have a problem… Once we mention guests, it’s always political correct to invite journalists (local ones and compatriots as well), so practical to get acquainted with the last news, steaming from reliable sources.

It’s always our duty to offer the necessary security to our guests, especially if your host country is located below the Equator line. Sometimes massive unemployment rate, high inflation and social inequalities do not make a good mixture (it’s like pouring nitroglycerine in the mixer). Once a friend journalist, having parked his car right in front of our building, located in a lovely country at the Pacific Coast, had all his spare parts stolen in thirty seconds, the moment the porter went to the toilet. Our guest, such a gentleman, just asked for one more cup of tea!

In this beautiful city renowned for its historical patrimony, fascinating ancient architecture, where once flourished an important civilization, rain would never fall. The cold stream, “El Nino”, lining its coast would keep low temperatures on the sea, impeaching evaporation. Down at the coast, the arid desert would spread through multiple kilometers. To benefit from sun light and exotic vegetation we had to drive up the mountains in the weekends. There, amazing private clubs would offer Spanish colonial style “chalets”, refined meals, shops and sports.

But unfortunately, not all locals could pay for that. And the long exposure to cold, nebulosity pollution and humidity affected their lungs. When children suffered from asthma, doctors would recommend swimming classes on public places. Medicines were also imported and expensive.

Meanwhile, locals inherited the knowledge transmitted from their ancestors, who cured with plants and herbs. Some of these plants form the basis for important medicines consumed throughout the whole world!

I always maintained that we are privileged witnesses of history, having seen injustice and violence everywhere around the world. All we can do in order to soothe their pain is just a small drop in the vast ocean of human misery. And sometimes I wonder if we ever did enough, will our efforts help to contribute to a better future? Will it reduce illiteracy among a group or community? Will it help saving lives by showing them basic rules of hygiene? The answer lies somewhere in time… And I’m only certain that I would do everything again, if necessary. Because thanks to moral values such as compassion and charity, mankind keeps surviving for two thousand years.

However, despite all the difficult conditions pertaining to the post in Caracas, such as food and electricity shortages, precarious urban security and the need to follow strict food security measures, we all agree that we were able to work and live happily during our stay there. Venezuela is an amazing country, full of possibilities and dreams, offering an overwhelming natural beauty. We did our best in order to return the hospitality and respect offered to us by the country and its wonderful people.

JUNE 2010. Postcards from the edge…

Due to a positive conspiracy of the Universe, we could conciliate school holidays and a possibility in the office. No doubt, we fly to Brazil! Not to attend the football matches (there was a championship going on) but just to see my family. We took the flight Caracas-Guarulhos, five and a half hours, during the night. Reaching the airport in Venezuela was already such an adventure. Caracas is located at 1000 meters above the sea level and due to local requirements, passengers are expected to check-in two hours before the flight.

Considering that the whole city drives to their beach houses in the weekend, there is always huge traffic jams on the way down the mountain. So in the end, we have to leave our home four hours prior to the flight. Worse than the traffic jam? The stormy season that adds to the need of precautions: thieves profit from these occasions to attack in big groups, driving motorbikes. And better the victim can provide the ultimate and latest model of cellular phones, because those individuals have good taste and can be quite demanding… So, suppose you could “pass” all these tests of human courage and patience, you have finally reached the airport! Armed soldiers ask about your destination before you can reach the airline desk. Other groups of patrols walk around with dogs trained to sniff passenger’s luggage. There is also a peculiar group of workers who offer to pack every piece of your luggage in thick layers of plastic. I first thought it could be for hygiene reasons and it can be expensive if you travel with many suitcases. But actually it is to persuade eventual thieves who pierce suitcases with a drill. Then they search valuables items such as jewelry or money, with the help of thin cables of cameras. Better to use very old cheap luggage. One of my Brazilian friends living in Caracas, received for her birthday a beautiful pair of rollers from a famous French brand. She could hardly recognize them later, after landing in her final destination, because they looked like a colander!

All right, you could survive the preliminary obstacles… Then comes one hour standing at the queue, waiting for check-in procedures. Better bring a camping chair and cards, to pass the time. Next step, we are supposed to pay airport taxes, another desk, another queue. Now you are ready to pass security control! More soldiers, thousands of passengers on the edge of a fit. It’s already ten o’clock p.m. We feel tired and just want to go back home, to the charming compound of ten English cottages where we live, beside the city park (“La Floresta”). And finally we are allowed to the waiting room. One more hour and between dream and reality, the Brazilian airplane approaches the glass wall, where we are almost sleeping, air-conditioning at the highest level, we freeze here! Boarding authorized, we are received by real smiles, by real kindness: “Good evening, welcome, may I help you accommodate your luggage?”

I don’t mind the long night flight that lacks comfort (it’s a small plane, a survivor from the route Rio/Sao Paulo during Varig’s golden era. The pilot welcomes the passengers onboard, I can only whisper: “take us home”. And we gain the sky in the middle of the night. I look through the small window, Venezuela sleeps amid the breeze and the mist, yet at the same time the country lays awake with its infinite twinkling lights.

In the morning I’ll be in Brazil and this previous airport adventure, the risk of robbery, malaria, dengue, mosquitoes, food shortage and noise of Kalashnikovs shooting in the night…all this will be temporarily forgotten. Life gives us a period of grace. And we intend to live it intensely, like warriors who know that peace doesn’t last long. We don’t want to spoil the magic moment, nobody utters a word. We simply breathe and observe the flight attendants do their work.

In the magazine I received on board, an interesting article ask readers which animal they would like to be… “An old sea turtle”, I reply aloud, eliciting the curiosity of a flight attendant. But perhaps I’m already one! After seeing so much around the world, now I enjoy being quiet and observe the flow of life… Just like an old, experienced and malicious sea turtle.

And I question myself, what should I do about so much learning and experience. Indeed, as a matter of fact, having worked as a criminal lawyer (on a volunteer basis), providing legal advisory to prisoners who could not pay a private attorney, taught me everything I needed to know about human nature. And no matter who we are, and what we may do for a living, we are all human beings trying to survive. Some must try too hard, not everybody succeeds. No need to consult a crystal ball to realize the increasing rate of poverty and hunger around the world. Both the official press and media spread sad, frustrating images, as our “daily drug”, so that we all get used with this human misery.

In the night, I hear the sound of rain dropping over my roof and the melody sends me to sleep… But what about those who have no place to hide? They could be my children. The more we can do to minimize, would never be enough. There must be a serious tilt in the long chain between the enormous budget generated by income tax and how to distribute this money, in the form of more hospitals, housing and decent schools. Why so many precious hours lost in the labyrinths of power? Why so many incompetent reports?

The fact is we have no one to resort to. Our own garbage shows a lot of our habits: the food we buy in supermarkets is often wrapped in unnecessary plastic and paper. Try to give a look at the remaining packs, once you keep everything in the refrigerator or in the pantry. These pretty colorful packs are all made to seduce customers. But its final content is so small and light… The real portrait of our present society! “Too much ado about nothing”, a lot of impressive rhetoric everywhere, but where lies the true essence? If still there is any left, sometimes I doubt.

After all, the only truth around us, consists of doing the best you can, to try beyond your own limits. Pray the Lord to help you walk one more mile, just one more. Knowing that many other people will be there, at the finishing line. Real life offers you no manual, no surviving kit. Nobody will tell you if you’re doing it well or not. One must set its own high standards for everything on earth. Does your work comply with those “standards of excellence”? Then it will be accepted. And to do so, one must be confident, daring. Above all, no fear of solitude, because at the end of the day, it’s all between you and your own conscience. It’s the moment to rewind the story of that day. “Did I do my best? Did I use all my possibilities? Could I have done even better?

And if not, will I be given another opportunity? I always think a new day brings us a clean page to re-write the story of our life…

When I was sent to boarding school, at a very young age (I’m so happy to know that nowadays, you’re only accepted after twelve), my parents had just a few minutes to give me precious advice, before they rushed to the airport, as they always did:

“Remember to learn how to say good-morning, thank you, good-bye and please in many languages. Always pay your bills before the deadline. Take your garbage bags out. Stand up to shake hands. Offer your seat to the elderly. Good-bye and good luck in life!”

And after that, we would only meet once a year during summer holidays or for Christmas.

I grew up in airports and airplanes. Nowadays, by visiting someone, my first reflex is to look for the seat belts on the chairs. No wonder that I find it very natural to move away every four years and to live out of my suitcases. On the other hand, this nomad life has taught me so much concerning the world’s wise lessons.

I also know that a word is extremely powerful. And must be carefully used. In order to pass your right message and not to hurt people’s feelings. How much susceptibility nowadays!

Despite the fact that modern man receives tons of up-dated information per minute, much more than his contemporaries did one hundred years ago, how much stress, lack of hope and misery in return!

Is this all that we could achieve? Did we fight so much for so few results? Does anybody master the whole truth about the world in which we live? Certainly not! Give a look at the news, I can’t anymore, it feels disgusting. It doesn’t take much to assemble the puzzle (read as much as you can and cross the information) in order to find out that we are “slightly” manipulated!

Having met students all over the world where I lived, the same question appears on a given moment: “Why should I memorize chemistry or physics formulas? It won’t help my case, I intend to study classic music later, or perhaps I would join Law School” (where I even had to study Latin, myself!). Then I remind them that the goal is not to make them register all this eternally, but to open up (in order to improve its function) parts of the brain and logic thinking. Next, I repeat what once I read by chance, in my father’s army manual, used during his training program: first, save your energy as much as you can. Try to observe your adversary/contender, find his weak points. If possible, seize his weapons or material.

Perhaps it would be interesting having this “survival kit” shared among today’s students, because our little daily struggle to live with dignity, became a war operation. And I think that instead of sending me to a French boarding school, they would have sent me to the army, or to Navy intelligence. I’m sure those institutions can provide you with adequate education to open up your way through the human jungle out there!

But I never regretted having read Maupassant, Baudelaire and Proust… They can be very useful to start a small talk during business dinners. Especially in our career, where it is imperative to avoid themes such as religion, politics and football matches (it always end up catastrophic).

Along the years, I could research my own list of inoffensive subjects, such as Chinese porcelain from the eighteenth century, global warming, the reproduction of Australian octopuses and everybody’s health in general. The hostess is pleased and no one will ever remember what he heard. By the way, no one pays much attention at the table, try to mention you had cyanide for breakfast, they will just ask absent minded: “oh, indeed?”… On the other hand, be very attentive to everything you hear around the room. After the second wine glass people would confess even the crimes they didn’t commit!

SUDDENLY, STRASBOURG (2007)

One more ordinary day… Early January, winter follows its natural course as forecasted. This year, mild and rainy, sometimes we are even granted some minutes of healing sun! Because it’s a Thursday, I cross the city park to reach the Agora building, the administrative annex of Palais de L’Europe. Headquarter of the association for family members of officials who work for the European Institutions. The bureau occupies many rooms distributed along a corridor, and associates are offered an array of cultural activities ranging from language courses, crafts, conferences, informal gathers together around coffee and cakes, sometimes a short excursion to discover Alsatian patrimony in neighborhood areas.

So I decided to take English conversation classes in order to keep my neuron cells working properly. The building itself had won an architectural prize, very modern, made in the shape of a cruise ship. And I was so proud to have an official excuse to enter those facilities, I could even comment that it was my working place. Despite it was located beside the Park de L’Orangerie and the canal that crossed the city, making it look like Venice sometimes. I’m someone of discipline, methodic habits. My bag and briefcase lye always at the same place, an upholstered bank beside the elevator that would lead directly inside our entrance hall. The night before it was my pleasure to dispose all the necessary documents, painting set or books I would need for the next day. This entrance hall would also feature a two hundred year old cupboard to store raincoats, umbrellas and gloves, apart from our private chapel, composed by the oratory I inherited from my grandmother. Our family bible, next there was an old gilded mirror, another family heirloom. A collection of my own watercolors was placed next, as a welcome sign to visitors, which we always had coming to our home, once the nature of diplomatic work is also public relations and entertaining. I didn’t receive a letter of credence allowing me to represent a country, but I had the mission to keep a tidy and cozy home, where guests from other diplomatic missions or government representatives could feel properly received.

I like to entertain, cooking and set elegant tables. Especially after I read in Louis XV’s biography that several important matters, during his reign, were decided around good meals. No need to recall that we must abide to a reasonable budget, but the best way to honour your guests is to offer them your best recipe, something that you can prepare with joy and care. They will all notice your personal touch.

So earlier that day, Thursday at lunch time, my husband asked my key holder, I’m the one in the family that would keep the safe key. Because I didn’t follow my daily rituals, no need to say that the key holder never returned back to its post, inside my bag, over the bank, at the left side of the elevator. And on top of that, to close everything brightly, I also forgot to recuperate my cell phone that stays beside me in the mornings, on my favorite spot to read and write: the dining table. I guess it has something to do with the light, so important for painters. So I attended my weekly meeting, always so pleasant to exchange some ideas with my colleagues. As usual time flies away and I decided to stop at the grocer near home, for the next day recipe, veal meat Zürich style, the family’s favorite of all times. For my surprise after I paid, no keys and no portable phone. The lady at the cashier kindly offered me to use her own phone, to call for Superman, firemen or Spiderman. But unfortunately not even Jason, from “Friday 13” could be reached. My husband on a meeting and my daughter somewhere between college, training activities, sports or driving lessons! Should I stay or should I cry? Just like in every emergency situation, and believe, I have many, I decide to head to my headquarters office, the nearest café where I cheat my diets with pastries and chocolates. My usual table at the left side corner, was so inviting on that cold raining afternoon. And like always I ask for a cup of hot coffee and a croissant, trying to pull myself together and look like someone normal. By the way, my daily challenge… In despair I search inside my bag for something useful to read, apart from my supermarket and dry cleaners lists of everyday. Oh, yes, I can only live and work on a “list guided mode”. Remainings from my times at the Protocol Service, where we use scripts before, during and after state visits. Just to keep everything in order and punctually. Even at home, I have many “post-its” spread on strategical corners, to remind me important meetings, doctor appointments, or any other major event in our life. And there is also a code of colours: white for normal ones, pink for paying attention carefully and red for urgent matters. Despite so much care I even happen to miss or lose control in some point… And I just did it now, committing the sin of forgetting keys and cell phone, home alone! Just a thought of solidarity for homeless people that I greet on the streets, where they live with no place to go. I make a point to stop by them and exchange some words, after some months we are friends forever and they keep me informed about what they saw in the neighbourhood. Today I’m one of them… And I feel free like a tropical butterfly!

When I started this job, fulfilling the duties pertaining to the wife of a diplomatic official, I had no idea how overwhelming those functions would be. Until that day, the simple idea, that someone of my age, had already accumulated so many hours in the air, just like any airline pilot, would amuse me. As a teen-ager, I was really proud to have travelled and moved around, having to accompany my father, a medical doctor in the army. At a certain point of the story, I really thought this was all, that my future routine had been set. Fortunately my days in the army provided me with the surviving skills of a chameleon.

And ever since, I live and work as a privileged witness of history. I always maintained that the perception of public service has been changing, following the course of a new world order. In the attempt to adapt to a new society. Once, a diplomat was a public servant who received an important mission, to represent his country abroad. And to defend the interests of his compatriots abroad, wherever they would be. However, the planet’s population has so far gone beyond the earth’s limits to provide even basic needs, such as water and food. Then economy growth requires the necessary improvements in order to comply with the new demand. Such improvements are obviously extended to all other sectors, including labour and the way we work.

Every nation must seek solutions in order to improve production, services. The public sector strives to reach high standards of production. Actually, the rise of the twenty-first century draw new lines of perception between the public sector and the private initiative and the border between them are indeed quite thin, nowadays. No matter your field of activity, you must work fast and produce immediate results. Because reliable information is an important requirement (since the dawn of mankind), the more connected, the better. A good network represents an enormous savings of time for other tasks such as research and up-dating information. Actually, we are always working, the whole day long. Contacting people from the official administration, the press, interviewing people who may add more to your professional knowledge, researching data or historical facts, etc.

Our job involves political negotiations, social representation, and also act as intermediates between our government and the administration officials in the country in which we are posted.

However, in posts pertaining to the multilateral work (international organizations) there is one more requirement, represented by the Agenda set by the organization in question. Perhaps more demanding in terms of your time table flexibility, but extremely positive due to the enhancement of your experience. It represents the possibility of development for new competences, ability of political analysis. Not to mention that such an experience contributes to enhance tolerance and respect among so many different nationalities co-existing together. And tolerance is the highest degree in human record.

So many times, along these years, I’ve been asked which would be the most important feature to retain, if I would have to select one among so many… Well I would emphasize the need to keep in mind the simple reality of everyday life. That it has not been a bed of roses (and by the way, no one ever promised me one!) but love gave me the strength to walk over stones and thorns. Regrets? I had a few. And also joy, disappointment, challenges. But above all, the certainty that I’m doing my job, and that I wouldn’t let sorrow defeat me.

For example, in 2002, while we were posted in Lima, Peru, I was training at the equestrian club for another international competition. I did not so bad the previous season, but like always, there were many things still to improve. During my training program, I had the most serious accident ever, falling from the horse while jumping a triple set of obstacles. Worse than the pain I felt, and that I could not continue on the contest, was the fact that my husband and daughter saw everything! Until that day, mom had been her idol… At the clinic, I was told there was a crack in the bones of my hips, a muscular fracture at the leg and also internal hemorragia in the right leg. They wanted to operate on me, but I refused. After signing a term of responsibility for what could happen due to my denial in carrying on with the surgery, I was finally allowed to leave the hospital. Back home, we called the embassy doctor, extremely good and reliable professional. The doctor advised total rest at home, for three weeks. And after that, we could start therapy in order to reduce swelling and bruising all over my leg. He was very clear and insisted that I kept resting in my bed. Of course I couldn’t stop just because of this “minor” accident. And the next day, after taking a cocktail of pain-relief medicine, I accompanied my husband to an important event, in the evening, wearing a formal “tailleur” and a pair of crutches… to the astonishment of other guests! Fortunately I recovered in just two weeks and no sequel was left. But no more jumping contests, said the doctor. It was the end of a family tradition, my Brazilian parents not even knew what had happened, for the simple reason I had no idea where to find them, at the time. “You survived another one”, told me my husband and our daughter continued to ride horses, for my great happiness! With grace and elegance, better than her mom…

In order to keep the record about our three-year stay at the European Council in Strasbourg, I feel I should say something about it. The idea of creating such an international organization goes back many years ago, at the dawn of modern Europe. But according to the official register (“The Council of Europe”, Aline Royer, Publishing Editions), there was a legitimate need to prevent the return of totalitarianism in the region.

And three basic principles were retained to form its basic pillar: peace, democracy and human rights, which should be maintained and respected all over the whole continent. The city of Strasbourg was chosen to host its siege, due to both geographical and historical importance. Probably occupied by ancient civilizations 600 000 years B.C, Strasbourg is the result of several annexations to Germany along the 20^th century. Nowadays the city holds a rich patrimony which witnesses the reconciliation between France and Germany. The city’s historical center was voted UNESCO’s mankind patrimony in 1988. “The Council of Europe was officially established on May 1949 under the Treaty of London, approved by the following countries: Belgium, Denmark, France, Ireland, Italy, Luxembourg, The Netherlands, Norway, Sweden and the United Kingdom.”

“Later on the Federal Republic of Germany, Austria, Iceland, Switzerland, Cyprus and Malta also joined the Institution, followed by Greece and Turkey.”

“These states were also joined by Spain, Portugal, San Marino, Andorra, Monaco and Finland. In 1996 Russia was officially integrated to the Council, enlarging the institution’s eastern border. As a matter of fact since 1989 with the decline of the Berlin Wall, the Council of Europe integrated the countries of Eastern Europe: Hungary, Poland, Bulgaria, comprising a bloc of eighteen new members.”

The Council is based on the following structures: “The Committee of Ministers (executive body)”, “The Parliamentary Assembly” (votes the agenda and ensures the accomplishment of obligations), “The Congress of Local and Regional Authorities” and, of course, “The European Court of Human Rights”.

During our stay in post in Strasbourg, we happen to head back to Bern to undergo extension courses pertaining to my husband’s formation. I always cared to accompany him, an opportunity to see my parents in law in Zurich, during the seminars that were not intended for me. Some of those conferences were held in Gerzensee, on the heights of Bern. A marvelous castle, owned by a bank, provides the necessary facilities for meetings and seminars. Officials come from all over the country. It’s quiet and peaceful, modern and provides the suitable atmosphere for studies.

Being the grand daughter and daughter of painters, very early I learned to carry my sketch notebook everywhere, together with a small watercolor set.

I overheard of a beautiful lake in the area, which I had no time at all to visit. At the end of our two day stay, we did check-out after breakfast and the conferences continued until that afternoon.

As I found a good opportunity to complete my sketch notebook, I just did some drawings of the neighbourhood. But I had to sit in the garden, once we had officially left the hotel facilities.

Suddenly the lady who served at the restaurant, recognized me as she came to smoke during her pause from work. She liked my “art work” and commented I should visit the famous lake, which made famous that beautiful city. Then I explained I could not cross the hotel fields anymore, once I had no more badge. She kindly offered to open the way for me and so she did! As I keep hypnotized by such an astonishing view, like paradise on the earth, my new friend disappeared through the alley formed by centennial oak-trees. Perhaps she didn’t hear when I asked: “Are you an angel?”

Some months later as we returned for a private weekend I bought a box of chocolates, in order to thank her. But no one in the hotel seemed to know about the lady…! Mysteries of life…

On the way back to Strasbourg, that afternoon, my thoughts and memories bring me to my activities of the last twenty years. As a member of the diplomat’s wives association I had the opportunity to visit hospitals and orphanages sometimes. We would bring toys, clothes, food or books. Nobody had the pretention to solve social inequalities, but our contribution was a drop of water in the ocean, the one that could make the difference to people living in extreme poverty conditions. Those visits would happen regularly along the year and particularly for Christmas. Then we could share a snack or simply listen to what those children or hospital patients had to say.

We would then take notices and try to adapt our next donations to their real needs. A small girl once took my hand and I bent to my knees in order to listen to her. She asked about my job, I replied my husband was a diplomat. “Do you know what we do?” I asked. Then she replied:

“A diplomat is someone who comes to speak to the King and try to stop the war”… I giggled to her innocent remark. But indeed, how many people around the planet have no idea about this job! Even in my family there is a misinformation linking our work to gala dinners and mojitos around the swimming pool. And much has been said about diplomatic immunity, privileges.

Actually there are no privileges, on the contrary, mainly duties. We pay income taxes like everybody and must structure our lives on a budget. And on top of that there is an extra stress represented by the fact of living and working abroad! Our husbands are in the offices, ministerial meetings, accompanying delegations, but we have to assure the logistics. And the backstage job means the assuring of our daily life. It also means that we must deal with suppliers, school faculty when there are small children, doctors, dentists and the best of all, neighbors! Living in any community, a building or a compound of houses, can be heaven or it can be hell, just like in the song “Hotel California”. How much I saw along these years…

In our present building in Strasbourg, we happen to have a very special situation… And it could not be different, in terms of my personal experience! Well, the building presents no fire escape, no external staircase and we occupy the last floor. The building’s television antenna is located over the roof, right above our heads. Our kitchen counts on a closed veranda that I use as the laundry room. There is also in this laundry room, an iron stair, like the ones you see in boats. And it leads to a small door on the roof. Whenever there are works concerning the roof, guess who must stay the whole morning at home in order to open the door to the workers? I tried to explain that we are moving away in four months, and we must organize our personal effects, paint the apartment and clean up everything. Do you know what I heard from one of the neighbors, a very old person? I had the obligation to authorize the worker’s passage, once it was in the name of the collectivity’s well being, which was not true. Later I heard he was defending his own private interests. Shame on him!

This is just a minor story among others, set in different countries. If bad behaviour could justify the reason for murder, half the world’s population would go away tomorrow!

Now, honestly, would you exchange your peaceful life, where everything seems to obey a natural order of harmony, to enjoy these highly spiritual enhancing experiences? This is just a part of our real life, so different from glamour and parties. This also reminds me, due to the global financial crisis that erupted in 2008 and happened to affect so many countries, the actual tendency concerning celebrations, is to invite only the diplomatic official, alone. For some time, I insisted to attend some receptions despite my name was not mentioned in it. Of course, I did so with my husband’s support. But someone with a good sense of humor wrote at the back of his invitation: “This invitation refers only to you, don’t bring your wife”. Lovely isn’t it? And I barely touch any meal, due to my eternal diet. Obviously it is not me, the reason of their need to cut expenses. What about banking system?

Now and then, I happen to meet young graduate ladies during professional meetings or professional diners. Sometimes they ask themselves how it would be, if they had to do my job. The answer is that my option was carefully analyzed, I knew what I was doing. It has not been an easy task and becoming a good mother was even more challenging. But believe in your potential, respect your feelings. Bear in mind that you can walk one more mile, even if you fear to fail. This is your life, your own story and you are the main character. Do the best you can, because no one will live it for you. Accept eventual mistakes but be kind to yourself. Try again, next time will be better. Innovate, create, never deny your help. Remember that many people need to see that you succeeded, so that they can carry on as well.

Some people will disappoint you, others may even abuse on your good will and faith. And there is nothing that you can do, because we all have our own scripts which, most of the time, do not coincide in the same play. Whenever this happen, be thankful to those who gave you a bad example, not to be followed. Your journey continues, as your caravan crosses the desert, majestically, while ignoring the wild dogs’ barking…

While I observe the sun set at the end of our daily routine, something to meditate about: which was the poorest human condition I ever saw along the road?

Until now it was so far, one soul’s misery. Both in North or South Hemisphere, developed or in development countries. For loneliness in the old age is the worst of all plagues, it’s the unhealed wound that devours late in the night, in the silent hour of the wolf. Absolute nothing can sooth it, not even the ultimate television antenna will be able to bring them salvation in the form of a film.

For the time being, our efforts concentrate in assembling and packing our tent, while a new mission has just been assigned to my husband. As I contemplate the breathtaking and glistening sunset behind the Eiffel tower, waving goodbye to France, I hear an ancestral chant of many beautiful voices. Suddenly, earthy scents and magic sounds bounce from an enchanted rain forest, opening the scene to an infinite golden savannah…

How will our future be? An old African warrior makes his way through the crowd of tourists at the Trocadero Square, as he brightens up his most beautiful smile, I hear him whisper: “Hakuna Matata” (No Worries). I smile back at him, tears of emotions blurring my eyes. He seats beside me at the sidewalk, silent.

Now the city lights of Paris make the passage between the sundown and the night, what I call the “Twilight Zone”, a strip in time and space where you have the power to make all your dreams come true.

The warrior whispers one more time: “Remember, always fight for your dreams…” Having said that, he kisses me softly on my face and disappears amongst the crowd, the same way he came.

Now, I look at this empty seat beside me, and find the shield and arrow that he left me as a gift, a gift to never forget to fight for my dreams no matter what, to never lose courage, hope, faith and perseverance and to always keep going in life.

“Hakuna Matata!”

Acknowledgements:

Mary Rose Reade

Hanne Berge

Patricia Gardiner

Laetitia Gros

Léonie Gros

Theresa Gubler

TO LOVE, VICTORY

AND TO THE GLORY

OF GOD…

Sunday, July 27, 2014