I’m from India. Where’s my luggage?

“I’m from India. Where’s my luggage?” A lost, somewhat distraught traveler asked me this during one of my shifts at the Málaga airport a number of years ago. I don’t remember being very gracious as I impatiently pointed out that I wasn’t an information desk. I was there to rent out cars, so if he had any unrelated questions, he should go to the information desk right next door. (I didn’t say this in so many words, but I’m sure my sentiment was reflected in my tone.) I hated life at that point and I was fed up with frazzled travelers asking me questions that had nothing to do with why I was there.

Anyways. 

What recalls this particular memory is the fact that his question has kind of become my go-to example of the general disorientation and bewilderment that I myself often feel. Not so much in the sense that I’ve just arrived and don’t know where my luggage is, but in the broader sense of I don’t know what I’m doing and I’m not sure how I got here. 

I don’t say this in a negative sense. Actually, finding myself in situations I have no business being in has kind of become my thing. I feel so unqualified doing the things I’m doing, but I have the most awesome time doing them. From the outside it may look like I stumble indiscriminately into things, but really it’s a series of seemingly random connections that end up not being random at all but divinely orchestrated. I can’t explain how I got here or what the heck I’m doing. But I’m having a marvelous time. And I can’t take credit for any of it. I’m just busy living in the favor of God. 

Favor. Tremendous, unexplainable favor. (By the way, I just recently discovered that my name means favor and grace. No joke. Google it.) 

I’ll give you the short version of what I mean: Nearly three years ago, an acquaintance of mine in Málaga suggested I attend a conference for Christian business leaders to be held in Berlin. At that time I was busy not being a business leader - I was a teacher. But for some reason, he felt I should attend. So I did. I happened to be on winter break that week, so why not? It turned out to be one of the best weeks of my life. Hands down. I had no business being there, but I was absolutely in the right place. (For the full story, see previous blog post: http://annikagreco.blogspot.se/2013/02/some-personality-types-are-just-meant_20.html) 

At this conference I met a German man who worked in leadership development. For whatever reason, he saw potential in me and has since kept in touch sporadically. A year ago he emailed me just to ask how I was doing, and I told him I had recently started grad school, was looking for internship opportunities and did he have any contacts or ideas? He in fact did. He recommended me to one of the executive leaders of World Evangelical Alliance, and this exec, without knowing anything about me other than what he’d heard from my German friend, contacted me and shortly thereafter sent my inquiry to WEA’s New York office. Which is where I spent 10 fantastic weeks this fall (see previous posts “Little girl, big city”).

While at the WEA’s NYC office, I met another member of the leadership team who took an interest in what I wanted to write my master’s thesis on. He said he knew a few people who could lend me insight on the subject matter and that they would all be gathered at a global youth leaders’ conference in Rome in December. He would try to get me in. 

And now I’ve just returned from this conference with my head full of ideas and heart full of hard-to-verbalize emotions. Aside from the fact that I got to sit down and converse with some wonderful African thinkers and doers (my primary reason for going), I got to meet people who are doing some incredible work in Syria and Lebanon in the midst of war and crisis. I feel so inspired I hardly know what to do with myself.  

And this is the craziest part: Back in October, I was gripped with the idea that I wanted to go to the Middle East to see for myself what is happening there. I of course know no one in the region, have nothing to contribute really, I don’t speak Arabic and would probably feel pretty clumsy and disoriented in general (that would really be an I’m-from-India-where’s-my-luggage scenario). But I told God that I wanted to do this and that He would have to connect the dots because I certainly had no clue how to go about it. Guess who I meet at this conference? The national director of a global ministry in Lebanon who, along with his team, is doing a lot of work in the Syrian refugee camps. He told me that the outside world is not getting the accurate story of what is happening in the region and could I come visit them and tell their story? 

Mind blown. Again, I had no business being at this conference - I'm not a youth leader - but I was absolutely in the right place. 

In short, I have no idea what I’m doing or how I got here, and even though this is unsettling for a control freak like me, I’m starting to think I’d never want to live any other way. Not knowing where my luggage is is turning out to be pretty freakin’ sweet. 

Little girl, big city - Episode 4: Translators, delegations and celebrity sightings.

So the UN General Assembly is in session and it’s been causing some chaos as entire avenues have been sectioned off to make way for the Pope, President Obama and other VIPs. I find it annoying all of the security measures being taken to be honest. Does the Pope really need an entourage of six SUVs and 6,000 police? The guy rides around in his little Fiat with the window down. I mean if someone really wanted to shoot him, it wouldn’t be that hard. 

Snipers on the roof of UN HQ

Also, the avenue sidewalks are more crowded than usual with delegates in from all over the world. Cultural differences manifest themselves in a number of ways, including the time it takes to get through a speech or down a sidewalk. Africans don’t seem to be in a hurry ever, and are completely immune to time constraints. I freely admit, I have no idea what this feels like. 

In other news, I’ve been here for six weeks now and I still haven’t seen any famous people walking around. The only celebrity sightings I’ve had have been at the UN this week. I missed seeing David Beckham by a couple of hours which is unfortunate (Instagram informed me of this). But I have sat in the same room as Kaká (the Brazilian fútbol player and WFP ambassador) and Laura Carmichael (the actress who plays Lady Edith in Downton Abbey). Shakira and Connie Britton (actress from the TV show Nashville) also spoke at forums I couldn’t get in to but watched via UN webcast. Normally I’d be able to get in to most seminars with my UN badge, but since everybody and their grandmother is in town for the General Assembly, only delegations and staff are being allowed in to certain events and suddenly I’m much less important than I used to be. It stings, I’m not gonna lie. 

That's Kaká to the far left

I feel I’ve been a little bit negative in my attitude regarding the UN. But there is one aspect that I am sincerely impressed by. Every high-level event will have translation into the six official UN languages: English, French, Russian, Spanish, Arabic and Chinese. This is reasonable and not that impressive until you take into consideration that each of these languages is being translated into each of the other ones. And when there are non-UN languages being spoken on the floor, they also have to be translated into each of these six. Which means we are talking about translators who are translating to and from upwards of five languages. That to me is amazing. For example, one time I noticed the same natively British male voice translating from Kazakh, Belorussian, Russian, French and Arabic into English. How does a person learn all of those languages to such a sophisticated level? That takes years of study and/or immersion in those languages and cultures, which makes me tremendously curious about the lives these UN translators have lived… 

Little girl, big city - Episode 3: An important dinner

As mentioned in my previous post (http://annikagreco.blogspot.com/2015/09/little-girl-big-city-episode-2-united.html), a large part of my role as “UN intern” at the WEA is attending UN events on a variety of topics and writing summary reports that are forwarded to the relevant person within the alliance. For example, if I attend an event on gender inequality, my report goes to the Executive Director of the Women’s Commission, or if I attend a forum on religious freedom, my report gets sent to the Co-director of the International Institute for Religious Freedom. I really like this role as I enjoy writing and I’m gaining a lot of insight into some very important topics that are affecting the global geopolitical and socioeconomic realities.  

In my last post I ranted a bit about the egos that work in diplomacy and foreign affairs. There are a lot of people who are in it for the status and/or cushy job. But I do need to say that there are also a lot of career diplomats, both in and outside the UN, who truly do care about making the world better. There are many people who hold very stressful positions and juggle an enormous amount of complexities and contradictions and continue to do so because it matters. Last night I was able to spend some time with a few of these individuals. 

The entire WEA executive team is in town this week and I got to join them for dinner at a very expensive establishment on Wall Street (http://www.thecapitalgrille.com/locations/ny/new-york/nyc-wall-street/8039) where we were ushered downstairs into a private dining room which used to be a gold vault. I spent the evening hoping it wasn’t obvious that I’d never been in such a swanky restaurant before (I mean, I’ve been to some pretty nice establishments, but this was a whole other level). The food was rich (both in price and quality) and I could go on about how good it was, but I don’t want to make you jealous of me even though you should be. 

Apart from the amazing gastronomic experience, this was a really significant dinner for me personally. Understand something - I am a nobody in this field. But I got to sit next to and converse with some very influential somebodies because I am just busy living in the favor of God. Here’s what I mean: The WEA’s permanent representative to the UN (and the one footing the bill for this splendid meal) invited me to join after having known me for about five minutes. She absolutely insisted. And then during dinner she told me she’d received high praise for my reports from some of the other executives and heads-of-commissions around the world and apologized profusely that the WEA didn’t have enough funding to offer me a paid position upon graduating but that I should send her my CV and she’ll pass it on to some contacts she has in Washington DC and New York. And I’m like, whaaaaaaat!? That’s favor. 

And then the Under Secretary-General of the United Nations and Acting High Representative for Disarmament Affairs, Mr. Kim Won-soo, walked in and joined us. And I’m (very calmly and collectedly) freaking out in my head because I just saw him speak at the UN event on nuclear testing last week and included his statements in my report. To meet the man in person was kind of awesome for me. And as I listened in on the conversation, I realized that he has probably the most difficult and the most important job at the UN right now. With the geopolitical situation as it is, with all of the divided politics surrounding the issue of nuclear weapons and disarmament, and with Russia exerting its influence in the Middle East in increasing measure, this guy is kind of important. If you a person who prays, pray for this man. 

In conclusion, I am a nobody. I’m just busy living in the favor of God. And right now He’s allowing me to make some incredible connections that may be significant in the future. I graduate in June of next year and have no idea what the next step is. Truly no clue. But I am genuinely unstressed about the whole thing because I know that I don’t have to worry. I’m just enjoying the ride. 

The photo is terribly out of focus, but the Under S-G is the man in the middle with the magenta tie.

Little girl, big city - Episode 2: The United Nations

A large part of my internship consists of attending meetings/seminars/forums at the UN HQ or at other designated locations in the area. These events cover topics like nuclear arms testing, the culture of peace, human rights, civil society and democracy, religious freedom, etc. A lot of it is very interesting; some of it is incredibly long winded and sleep inducing. After having spent a few weeks in this environment, I have mixed feelings. On the one hand it’s tremendously exciting to breathe the same air as distinguished diplomats and NGO workers who have been in the thick of it and are in great part responsible for setting the global political agenda. I won’t lie and say that I don’t ever want to work here. I want the power suit, I want the badge, I want the status. 

On the other hand, it’s pretty ridiculous. And what I mean is, while it’s necessary and meaningful to discuss these important issues that impact people all over the world, so much of it is merely the importance of being important. Granted, the panelists who speak on the topics are often not career diplomats and they have dedicated their lives to advocating for a certain issue or people group. This part of the forum is often quite interesting to listen to. But then the member state delegates start taking turns reading their prepared speeches and the majority of the content is just politically digestible soundbites that are void of sincerity or any actual bite. When the delegate from Qatar touts the importance of upholding human rights, or the Russian delegate says that his country is committed to full nuclear disarmament, or the American representative praises the role of the media in promoting peace, one wants to just roll one’s eyes and say My God, do these people have no sense of irony? 

I acknowledge that it is necessary to gather and exchange ideas in a neutral setting so that we are aware of what is happening in the world of development and diplomacy and so that we can be reminded of what we should be doing. There are so many organizations, working groups, committees and coalitions that it is hard to keep tabs on everything that goes on. Case in point, I’m learning to navigate the endless list of UN organizations and their acronyms. I defy you to know what all of these stand for without googling: WFP, WHO, UNHCR, UNDESA, UNICEF, UNEP, UNFPA, UNDP, ILO, IMO, IFAD, FAO, IAEA, ICAO, ITU, UPU, WBG, WIPO, WMO, ECOSOC…..But I digress. 

Here’s the issue: Words are being spoken but nothing is being said. Or what is being said has already been said a thousand times. When does the status quo actually get challenged by actions instead of words? The United Nations doesn’t have that much power. It can’t legislate, it can only make suggestions. And the only UN body that actually has any power (the Security Council) is more often than not paralyzed because its members don’t get along. The system is broken. It’s dysfunctional. So the only thing it can do is organize meetings and seminars and forums that gather the organizations and the working groups and the committees and the coalitions to talk about things that have already been discussed and that every informed person already knows. 

So. It is clear to me that what is truly important in the world of diplomacy is the importance of being important. The hierarchy, the bureaucracy, the verbose job titles all serve to prop up the egos of the insecure, the comfortable, and the (sometimes) inept. 

There. I’m done spewing. 

Little girl, big city - Episode 1: Restaurant etiquette, air conditioning and the United Nations.

I’ve been in the Big Apple for almost two weeks now and I’m feeling quite at home. It’s a livable city under the right circumstances and I’m favorable to moving here for a period of time if I end up getting a (very well paid) job after graduation. These 10 weeks are a trial run if you will. 

I’ve not lived in the US for eight years, so there are a few things I’m having to get used to again. Like tipping in restaurants. Waiters in Europe are salaried and the service is included in the price, so tipping isn’t a norm - something I find quite efficient. Of course I want to support waiters everywhere in their pursuit of the American Dream, but it gets hella expensive. It’s a bullet I need to bite unfortunately. Everybody eats out all the time here and I am inclined to follow suit since I’m sharing a minuscule kitchen with four boys, three of them very messy. Needless to say, this doesn’t inspire me to go at it in the culinary department. And so I’ve resigned myself to returning to Sweden destitute and rotund…sigh. 

Another thing I’m reacquainting myself with is the aggressive usage of AC. Within one hour I experience the gamut of temperature variation during my daily commute. It’s a wonder I haven’t gotten sick yet. The air in New York is still heavy with heat and humidity, and by the time I’ve walked the four blocks from my apartment to the subway station, I’m dripping sweat. It gets worse. By the time I’ve descended the stairs into the furnace that is the subway platform, I want to shoot myself. Then I climb onto a train that blasts ice cold air and I have to sit there for 30 minutes as I feel myself growing hypothermic. Then it’s out onto the street to defrost before settling into a chilled office for the day. Uff, it’s a tough life. 

But like I said, New York is a livable city under the right circumstances, and I am learning my way around. It’s not the city of my childhood and I feel like a little girl stepping out into an unexplored yet distantly familiar world. The people around me are stressed, but I’m still excited. 

I attended my first UN event this week. It was a panel discussion on revolutionizing data on women’s leadership in public life. Data collection is not my favorite topic by any means, but I found the tensions and dynamics in this area of development work nonetheless interesting and important to discuss. Besides the fact that the seminar was held during the exact hours I yawn uncontrollably and struggle to stay awake - between 2 and 4 pm every day without fail - I was glad to be there. I mean my goodness, it’s the freaking UN and I’ve dreamt of setting foot in this place for years. 

One thing though: My introverted self hates to mingle. I always cringe when the mediator says it’s time for a coffee break and wouldn’t it be a great time to have a chance to talk and exchange ideas. NO!! Even though I may be bored out of my mind, I’d rather sit in the seminar and not have to interact with any of the strangers in attendance than make small talk during the coffee break. Oh the agony! Oh the discomfort! 

Obviously this is something I must get over if I’m to rule the world. Hmm…

A shout out to good dads everywhere

As I wait at Schiphol airport for my flight to JFK, I’m reflecting on something I witnessed a few days ago while in Málaga. My parents and I went to see a couple of friends play with their jazz quartet at a resort on the coast, and while the atmosphere was nice and the music excellent, what really caught my eye and kept me entertained was a certain British family occupying the table in front of us. At first glance it was your typical family on holiday, but closer observation saw a father thoroughly engaged and present with his three boys as the mother sat back, relaxed, and recorded the memories being made with her camera. These boys were young - the eldest not more than ten - but they were all active, well-behaved and having fun. Most of all, they were reveling in their father’s attention. He’d get up at regular intervals and start dancing to the music with them, or he’d play the air guitar on their tummies, or he’d sit with one of them on his lap. I remember thinking, I hope this mother knows what she has. 

Sadly, what was playing out before me has become an atypical scenario. The new normal is parents with their 2.5 children, each sitting with their smartphone or tablet, fully absorbed in playing Candy Crush or some other senseless game on their devices. They ignore each other, unaware of their surroundings, detached from the present. Not rarely enough, one or both of the parents are slowly getting drunk and irritated as their children grow bored and petulant. 

I don’t know this British family, but what I saw blessed my heart. From the relatively short time I watched them, I could tell there was a lot of love and order there. This family sat for several hours enjoying the music and their surroundings. None of the three boys had a device. When they weren’t moving to the music, they were sitting around the table in well-behaved fashion. At one point, one of them pulled out some toy cars to play with. I can’t remember the last time I saw a kid play with actual toys. 

Part of me fell in love with this dad. I know nothing of his character or the dynamics of his family life, but what I saw was a father who was engaged and present, showing his boys how to have a good time, how to enjoy the moment, and how to make their mother glow. It’s hard for me not to be cynical at this stage of my life - most men just aren’t like this anymore. But to be fair, while there is truth to my cynicism, I know that there are good dads everywhere. They are fewer and farther between, but they are there. In fact, I know several of them personally. 

If you are one, I applaud you and I thank you. If you aren’t one, there’s nothing stopping you from starting. And maybe someday there’ll be a stranger sitting at a restaurant watching you and thinking, dang, I hope his wife knows what she has. 

Dealing with disappointment

I haven’t felt truly disappointed in several years. Obviously I’ve had to deal with small scale disappointments on a regular basis just like anyone. But generally things have steadily been going the way I want them to for about four years now. But this week I had to swallow a bitter pill that turned the tables on everything and made me feel like I was right back at square one. (Just a side note, I’m not actually back at square one, it just felt like that. Feelings are not truth!) 

The most amazing opportunity had virtually just landed in my lap and it was so wildly beyond anything I could possibly have thought up or orchestrated myself. There were just too many ‘coincidences’ and details falling into perfect place and all of the important people in my life were united in their affirmation and encouragement. It was literally one of those ‘too good to be true’ moments, except that it was actually happening. I could hardly believe my good fortune. I thanked God for his favor, reveled in his plan and praised him for his goodness. 

And then yesterday I got a call containing the worst imaginable news: Never mind, we can’t go through with it, we’re very sorry. The ‘too good to be true’ stopped being true and went back to being just ‘too good.’ The balloon had popped in a most spectacular fashion. I missed His favor, felt disappointed in His plan and questioned His goodness. 

I felt soooooo disappointed. Disappointed in myself for the impulsive mistake I’d made at the outset of this whole thing (even though I didn’t realize it was a mistake at the time); disappointed with the individuals who were in charge of deciding my role in this (I mean, my word! How inconsiderate!); but more than anyone else in this story, I felt disappointed with God. Why had he allowed such a spectacular buildup only to let it fizzle out into nothing? What was the point? Why drag me into this in the first place? Why present me with the answer to so many prayers just to snatch it away? How can this be good for me?!?! 

Also, I felt confused. How could I have mistaken random happenings for the hand of God? How could I have felt such peace and joy over something that wasn’t meant to be? And not just me, but the most important people in my life!?! Several of them had sensed the same thing as I had, that this was truly a God idea, not just a good idea. So what the heck, Lord? I DON’T GET IT!! 

Let me be clear: These were all emotions and questions coursing through my mind and heart, and legitimately so in my opinion. But these were not truth. 

The TRUTH is this: God is good to me. He has always been good to me and will continue to be so. He does have plans for me that are beyond my wildest imagination. He will give me the desires of my heart. He will entrust me with realizing the dreams he has placed in my hands. But he’ll do this in his own way and in his own time. And he will, for reasons only he knows and understands, ask me to let go of those dreams more than once. 

I’m reminded of the lyrics of a Nick Mulvey song that seem so pertinent right now: “The only way to hold on is to keep letting go.” This is such a hard truth to accept sometimes (heck, let’s be honest - most of the time). Because when we see His hand move to orchestrate things, when we see things starting to come together in ‘typically God’ fashion, when everything in our spirit says “Yes, this is it!”, it is so incredibly easy to fix our eyes on the form in which it happens rather than on He who makes it happen. My Morfar (maternal grandfather) reminded me of this yesterday as I sat crying on the telephone. He said, “Annika, this is not the end of the story. But you’ve got to seek Him, not the way, not the form, not the process. Seek Him.” 

So. In the words of Job, “Though He slay me, yet I will trust in Him.” Dramatic wording, I know, and I’m not comparing my current circumstances to Job’s because that would just be foolish and inaccurate. But the principle here is the same. I trust in God’s plan because it is better than mine. There’s no getting around that fact, regardless of how disappointed I may feel right now.