Executive

Dearest readers,

I am sorry it has been so long since my last entry. Though this post will refer to “last Monday,” I am actually referring to the Monday of last week, which is in fact two Mondays ago. However, the former flows much better, so I will use that phrase anyways. Before I begin, though, I would like to thank all of you that left a comment on my previous entry, putting the comment count at a record high.

Now I will start by reminding everyone that I am not a morning person. I hardly ever get the proper amount of sleep, so getting out of bed is tough. I usually find myself in front of a mirror, where I find that my hair looks like it is exploding off of my scalp. After this, I typically discover that I want to go to the bathroom, shower, and eat my bowl of cereal all at once, and so have to spend a minute contemplating which to do first. And no matter how early I awaken, I always end up running late.

However, last Monday (see note in paragraph one), my morning felt genuinely good. This was even more exceptional because I was up earlier than ever and had to start work at my supervisor’s apartment building and not at the office. This joyful mood was a result of my upcoming day at the World Food Programme (WFP), spending the day observing its Executive Board meetings. The Executive Board is a group of member countries to the United Nations (UN), who serve as the governing body to the WFP. Thrice a year, they gather to discuss and approve of the WFP’s budgets, strategic plan, country expenditures…etc. In short, it is when all of the WFP decisions happen; when all of what I study about the organization comes to life. In fact, during last year’s Model UN conference, I represented Algeria on the mock WFP Executive Committee. Now I was about to see the real thing.

It was a forty-five minute taxi ride from my supervisor’s complex because unlike to the Food and Agriculture Organization (FAO) the WFP is far away from Rome’s center. I asked my supervisor what she was looking for as she dug through her purse. “My badge,” she replied casually, but it hit me like a brick, because my badge was hanging on my door handle in room (where I though I would not forget it). She was nice about it, but told me frankly that I was not going to get in without it.

After some deliberating and investigating, I managed to do the following. I left the WFP, went down a narrow sidewalk that took me to a street, which led to a train platform. The train was approaching as I was, and so I did not have time to find the ticket counter, so I just snuck on, which is extremely easy and commonplace to do. This eventually connected to a Metro stop, which eventually returned to my stupid badge hanging on the door knob. One shuttle ride from FAO later (which was not available earlier at 8:00am) and I came to the WFP. So now I was about the see the real thing. Phew.

There are two places to watch the Executive Board while it is in session. Of course, one can be in the room itself, but only a select number of people from each country delegation are permitted, and since our list was nearly twelve people long, I never made the cut. The alternative is the WFP Delegate’s Lounge, which has three plasma televisions with a live connection feed and individual headsets. These ear pieces are necessary for everyone because they are channeled to the translators, who were available in English, French, Spanish, Arabic and Chinese. Though the lounge was away from the action, it certainly had its luxuries; one could slouch in a sofa or stand up and stretch without appearing rude to whoever was speaking. However, if someone behind the televised speaker fell asleep in the Board Room (and they did), then everyone in the Delegate’s Lounge was immediately aware.
I spent a good portion of the entire week in this board room, staking out a full portion of the room for the large American delegation. I was there half a day Monday, half a day Tuesday and all day, from 8am to 8pm, Wednesday. I quickly learned that the WFP Executive Board Meetings were not terribly exciting since it was all formal procedure. Most of the progress made was done in side-meetings during small lunches and dinners. In fact, I heard others joke that it was a productive week, “oh, and the Board Meeting is going well too.” Moreover, though I appreciated the decisions being made, since I was not aware of each proposal in detail, the small and unexpected remarks from commenting countries were entirely over my head. Of the twelve or so of the American delegation, I would say that only five truly grasped all that was deliberated.

Despite this, I am very content now that the week is over, having left with an improved understanding of the WFP. Though the formal procedures of the Executive Board could be repetitive and dull, they are necessary. However, I learned it was the frantic and dedicated preparation beforehand that made them a success. Be rest assured that the United States did this well. The last day that I attended the meetings, last Wednesday, the morning began with me letting my supervisor borrow five Euros to pay for our long taxi ride. At the time, it seemed like a harmless gesture, but about five hours later it backfired on me. I stood in line at the WFP cafeteria cashier, realizing that I was short twelve cents as a result of me lending out the five Euros. Embarrassed and flustered, I picked up my tray to go return some food, when I was shocked to discover that our US Ambassador was next behind me in line. “Do you need me to lend you some money?” he offered. Great, I thought, this looks really mature. I tried to act like I had it under control, so I said sheepishly “that would be nice.” He still has yet to let me live that down, claiming that I am the first intern he has ever lent money too. I tried to explain over lunch to him and others on the US delegation that it would not have happened if my supervisor had enough money that morning, but you know what they say: no good deed goes unpunished.

When the Executive Board concluded on Thursday, the Ambassador hosted a well intended reception at his residence, to which I was gratefully invited. The night was a wet one, since it had been raining all day, but I had no choice but to walk. A little ways from the house though, I noticed a professional woman on the opposite side looking a bit confused. I offered if I could help, since I sort of knew the area. “Yes, do you know where the US Ambassador’s residence is?” Indeed, I did. In fact, I was just on my way. We got in her car and after I introduced myself, she informed me politely that she was Director of Communication of WFP. Though that may mean very little to you, she was someone that I was very familiar with on paper. To meet her in person, as I told her, was quite a pleasure. Others at her level at the reception I hardly had a chance to speak with, so it pure happenstance that I had this opportunity.

When we finally got the reception, the Ambassador was waiting to greet us at the door. I did so with five Euros and thirty cents. “6% daily interest rate, right?” The reception was the best I have been to yet. Not only was the food delicious, but there were so many people that someone was always free to talk with the intern. And since I seem to have the gift of gab, probably passed down from my father, carrying a conversation was never difficult. I spoke with a whole range of people, exchanging information cards on a few occasions, to follow up on requests. Once all of the guests left, just the American delegation and other USUN employees remained. We gathered in the Ambassador’s living room and toasted to a week well done. In the conversation that followed, it was interesting to see everyone so relaxed. We took a picture, and it was probably the first time that I actually like I was one of them. Because of the late night, very few people arrived last Friday morning on time. I was one of these very few, even though I longed to sleep a few extra hours, mainly because I had stayed up even later packing. It was important that I was in though, because I had much to do and my supervisor had to explain to me some new responsibilities since she would be on leave next week. All of this had to occur before noon too, when I was told that I could go on a half-day leave. So right at noon, I was out of the office promptly. I went back to my room, picked up my bag and headed for the train station. Where was I off to? I dunno. I guess you will wait until the next post.

Thank you for reading. God bless.