UNSpecial N° 692 • Fevrier 2010
ON A UNOG HONEYMOON
As I write this, it is 2010 and the 2nd official day of work in the United Nations, Geneva. Earlier, I looked out to capture the view and the windows in the opposite building were shrouded in grey, unlit, taking a break from their occupant. Or maybe like me, working in the dark...
It had snowed and the panorama from where I was showed the tops of trees totally covered in white fluff. The courtyard-park yard was deserted other than the die-hard smokers tanking up on their compulsory dose of nicotine.
Although employed since years by the United Nations, I have only ever worked on the periphery of the main premises: Conches, Châtelaine, rue de Montbrillant. And then the occasional two weeks for meetings, sharing a space in the “E” building. Only recently have I become part of the UN staff actually heading each day to the Palais and it is amazing to be here!
Each morning walking to work, I see, from a distance, the gigantic three-legged chair. While a meaningful symbol of awareness, it is an ugly sight (and so it should be as a reminder). I wonder if anyone has ever sat on it, all the way up there, where only birds can reach; the next thought is whether it is clean, or if pigeons have invaded it, turning it into their penthouse nesting place and streaking it with their wastes...
As I near this humongous chair, I am already distracted! My attention is riveted towards this resplendent building: the very impressive Palais des Nations!
At that morning hour, I see the usual endless cars moving along and people spilling out of trams and buses rushing to wherever they need to be before the clock strikes. Once I cross security at the gate, I revel in the colourful beauty of the flags, flapping away depending on the weather at that hour. My ears are tuned into their tinkling sounds chiming in the winds. I think of the labour that goes into keeping these flagpoles clean, whether a particular flag is lowered to half mast on the death of its Head of State. I am awed and take my time to marinate in the feeling that I am actually in the Palais. I have still not identified all the insignias or flags.
The Palais is a maze of discoveries. I have done the tourist circuit of UNOG, but it is rather limited in what is on display. Now – thanks to my colleague – I know the existence of at least three corridors that actually lead to some interesting destinations along the walkabouts! Although so far, I have only learnt on a need-to-know basis. I can now get from where I am to SAFI without having to stick the tip of my nose out in fresh air. It is such an adventure. I had initially wondered why I saw such few people in the courtyard: it almost always looks deserted, even during peak hours. And then I was struck by a corridor epiphany: the buildings are interconnected. And then there are innumerable approaches to the cafeteria and I can decide how much of a cardiovascular activity I want before I get there.
The cafeteria is a dim and somber place, pining for natural light and the prime hotspots are by the long windows! At lunchtime it gets a life of its own, with all the hustle and bustle of staff, delegates, visitors, the noise of clanking cutlery and crockery and chatty diners. People-watching is a great pastime and this is the prime location for me to indulge in it. I could spend hours there (but I don’t) observing in fascination my colleagues: the ethnicity, the glamour, the hairstyles, the clothes, the different ages, the colors, the race, mannerisms, branded fashion accessories. I feel as though I am seated at a terrace café outside a Paris bistro! Around me I hear various languages and while my intention is never to eavesdrop, it is just to recognize the language being spoken. Sometimes I am lucky and often I am at a loss. But it is a fun game. I also challenge myself by trying to identify the nationality of the people.
Each day, I attempt to take the stairs to the top floor. And that is when I realize the height of these ceilings – a recurring theme on my mind – each level almost two storeys high with never-ending steps!
I feel like Jack(y) climbing the beanstalk, out of breath, wondering when I will reach my destination up there, somewhere. By the time I arrive, it is the Himalayan Summit! As much as I love going to SAFI, I also avoid it in equal measure as it is a cavern laden with wonderfully wicked temptations: particularly the mouth-watering display of delightfully sinful and calorie-laden foodstuff that I usually do my utmost to resist but succumb to about once a week.
These goodies destroy my will power. I also window shop, fantasizing about my future watch, but am currently in no rush unless I want to start a new trend of adorning one watch on each wrist.
A week ago, I had to meet someone in the conference section, in an office located somewhere on a floor I never knew existed. I got lost in the maze and requested directions from a helpful colleague. I wished I had created a breadcrumb trail, but was relieved to recall the route back to my point of origin. On my corridor expeditions, I enjoy reading the office door nameplates and am thrilled when I notice the name of an individual I have dealt with in the past. Now all I need is to summon up the courage to knock on the door and introduce myself...
I often tell my immediate colleagues that we should be provided with a “trotinette” to speed up reaching far-flung destinations as this is what I consider them: destinations. I also like the idea of whizzing by on rollerblades and this is most tempting in the endless corridor connecting to the E building.
And then there are these areas abandoned and forlorn probably having lost their use like the Reception area at Door Two. There are also these corners, nooks and crannies that I hope to discover. I imagine Anne Frank finding the choicest spot to hide herself. I am still ignorant about where the déménageurs sit and wonder if there is a woman déménageur in their midst. Where is the menuiserie section situated and is there a dedicated workshop for books to be bound. I have also heard of a gym on the premises I have not yet taken a full tour of the grounds, nor explored the garden or other exit points, but am certain that it will be another enjoyable expedition.
All this to tell you that each day in the Palais I have to pinch myself as it continues to feel so unreal. You could say I am still on a honeymoon. I want to jump for joy – literally – and scream from the top of the building “Look at me: I am here, I am now in the Palais and I feel, finally, that I am a United Nations civil servant!”
* LCh-finally@unog.org (and this is not my email address)