A Dress For Zeinab

The meeting in Morocco had been scheduled to last three days. It was a restricted, semi-formal consultation, at the invitation of the Government of Morocco, to help finalize an important project for international assistance on the theme of: ‘A national strategy for the protection of the rural environment.’

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The Borobudur File

I distinctly remember it was June 1980. I had just turned forty-five and had been promoted Director of a large division. That Monday morning I was peacefully planning my week at my desk, hoping to catch up with the backlog, when my Secretary came into the office, white as a sheet, to tell me that the Assistant Director General wanted to see me immediately about an urgent problem. Five minutes later he told me that I was to leave on a mission to Djakarta that very evening to represent Unesco at the Borobudur Festival.

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Kabuki, Sumo and Sake

The twelve-hour flight had resulted in a first-rate jet lag. Unfortunately, Melatonine had not yet been marketed and I was desperately struggling to sleep in my tiny room at the Tokyo Hotel. One would assume that at fifty, after twenty years of extensive traveling, my body would have adjusted more easily to these time changes. But not at all! As a matter of fact, it was getting worse as the years went by.

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Kama Sutra and Bollywood

All the directors had been convened for a meeting with the Director-General in Conference Room N° 2. We were told about the financial situation, the necessary cuts in the on-going budget and the inevitable restrictions that had to be imposed on every program. You could sense nervousness pervading the room. When the Director-General spoke of the necessity to cut down on missions, the temperature of room N°2 rose by several degrees.

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The Battle of Leningrad

Three thousand miles after leaving Paris we landed in dark, cold Leningrad. The flight being relatively short, Brigitte could not see why we had waited so long to come to Leningrad. ‘To think that before the age of the railroad,’ said studious Françoise, ‘the journey by coach from Paris took as much as six weeks!’ Aunt Lily informed us that nowadays the trip from Moscow to Vladivostok with the Trans-Siberian railway takes more than seven days. She had inquired at a Paris travel Office, but fortunately had not pursued the idea, remembering the train scenes from the film ‘Dr. Jivago.’

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