Kimchi days

This article was published in early 1998 in a magazine called "Humanitarian Affairs" and this was the introduction: Marie-France Bourgeois worked as an expert in assessing and monitoring humanitarian aid for ECHO in North Korea in 1997 and 1998. Below is an exerpt from her diary.

" It's a cold, crisp October morning. The sun is shining and I am being driven along the deserted highway in a rented Mercedes - our official ECHO vehicle, the only car available. That's a first for me: a humanitarian aid worker in a Mercedes! We're five minutes from the national capital, Pyongyang, and we have yet to pass another car. The double white lines are redundant. There is no traffic at all just outside this city of a million people. What planet am I on?

PS: The photo represents a nurse at the Wonsan orphanage with one of the many orphans. In this particular orphanage I was taken to a room filled with 25 dying children on a gray autumn morning of 1997. I shall write on this difficult morning in a later blog page... 10 years after when I remember that dreadful morning tears fill my eyes... How can human do this to babies???

From a distance, alii can see on the road are blobs of blue and red. As our car rolls alongside, I realise I'm seeing children in uniform, hundreds of them, marching and chanting energetically. Some of them carry huge banners with slogans glorifying the Great Leader. Where are they going? I see no schools, no play grounds, no
buildings, only the highway and the surrounding fields.

"They're going to harvest kimchi in the fields,' Mr Yun, my interpreter explains. He is my shadow for the duration of my mission in North Korea. Kim what? Kimchi. Kimchi is for Koreans, from North and South, what wine is to the French: never a meal without it!

Kimchi is a long green and white cabbage which is harvested in October, pickled and then eaten until stocks run out in about July. You mean to say that the kimchi I have been eating since my arrival in August is not the real thing? Of course not. That's the stuff made with pickled cucumbers, eaten during the summer until the new harvest is in.

Making kimchi is a traditional family activity that predates communism. It gathers the entire family around the mother, each of whom has her secret recipe. As we go through the suburbs, I see big brown clay pots full of kimchi on everyone's balconies. They are full of finely shredded cabbage, radish, onions, garlic, ginger and of course, red peppers, a symbol of virility here. When a boy is born, Koreans hang a cord bearing red peppersoutside the house. The kimchi has to ferment for at least five days at 15 degrees centigrade to produce the authentic taste and texture. It supplies most of the vitamins in the diet during the winter.

Suddenly, we catch up with five heavily overloaded trucks. At last, we are not alone on the highway! They belch out dark fumes into the clear sky. They run not on diesel nor gasoline -- since the collapse of the communist system, North Koreans have little access to fuel -- but on a local concoction that makes the engines hiccup all the time. They are so overloaded that they sway under the weight of their cargo of kimchi, dropping cabbage heads along the highway in a trail.

It goes without saying that kimchi is the national dish, so national that the North Koreans have declared the harvest a national holiday. It's the only holiday not related to some communist remembrance date. From the excitement I pick up, I would say that kimchi days are the most significant, sociable holiday in the country's calendar.

In truth, the holiday is a means for the Communist Party to institutionalise some extra days of particularly hard work. The entire workforce and transport system, consisting mostly of trucks belonging to the army, are mobilised for the occasion. Some non-governmental organisations are complaining they cannot get essential drug supplies to targeted hospitals on time because all army trucks rented from the government have been requisitioned to carry goods other than ECHO's medical supplies. Blame it on kimchi days.

Even my monitoring visits are hampered by the frenzied activity. I go to a warehouse to check ECHO-funded stocks of High Energy Milk. No chance. The person with the key has gone to the fields to give a hand with the harvesting. Blame it kimchi days. I go to a centre for the elderly, and ask to see the group of single widows I know are supposed to be there. Sorry, not today. They've all gone picking_. yes, kimchi. Even my home help won't come to work - she says she has to go and pick kimchi too.

Like most people, I enjoy Asian food, even after the stress of missions to North Korea and a bout of hepatitis. Do not invite me for rice and kimchi.I've eatenn more than enough of them for a lifetime already."

From my kitchen floor - August 2006

Dear friends,

In DRCongo, the elections’ results announced late on Sunday night have resulted in warfare between the presidential guard and the opposition leader’s personal force (who also happens to be the Vice President in this transition government), in Kinshasa, the capital.

By coincidence, my bungalow is un-conveniently located some 700 meters away from the headquarters of Mr. Bemba, the current Vice President and at the same token, opposition leader. This HQ will be the centre of the warfare for the 3 days.

I am just like a blind person, I can hear the “sheer madness” but I am imprisoned at home, behind tall walls (thank god for it). Hence, what to do to give me some peace besides praying and practicing yoga? Write, as I have always done… Hence, I have decided to share the events and its developments, as I live them. As I start this “confinement diary”, I have no idea how long we will hide. Will we have to go through this again? What will be the security situation for us in Kinshasa from now on until the next tour?

First, I set up my own little “headquarters”: my equipment comprises of three basic communication assets: first, a hand set radio (and a rechargeable battery), allowing constant contact with the United Nations Security Office. The latter provides insight and advises on staying put and on the ground when fighting is too heavy. The second, is my portable telephone, it allows me to be in direct and constant contact with my colleagues and my friends outside DRCongo. Last, but not least, my short wave radio (in Africa, the international French radio presents hourly development updates).

Not much is seen on TV. Euro News has no images which depict the situation we have gone through. I have not seen anything on BBC or on CNN. Priority news such as a plane crash in Ukraine makes it ahead of the events in DRC. I get a feeling that I am in the eye of the storm but no one cares. Tom could light up my lantern??? Does it go by the number of deaths??? It suddenly occur to me that when one goes through these events “live”, we realise how little the world cares. Surely Lebanese felt that way recently, how to blame them? This is how I often felt when I lived in North Korea and/or when I worked in the refugee camps in Rwanda. We are one world but with so many compartments that do not touch one another, as it seems but they do, the world just like to forget it…

Why all this fighting about, you may ask? I frankly do not have the answer. However, it’s based on the elections results which were announced on Sunday night.

On 30th July, DRC held its first democratic elections (without the help of the international community it would have been impossible) in 40 years. The Congolese were so proud to vote, imagine, an entire generation who had never done so… On first August, people were rejoicing and you could read their

Story will tell at the end of this email.
Day I: Sunday 20 August 2006

On Friday, the United Nations Security team told us to prepare for an eventual confinement and we were told to stay home from Sunday on-wards. I bought fresh water jerry cans, food (lots of pasta for me) and candles (they usually cut electricity off on Sundays). I just had no idea what to expect.

11h00: I sneaked out of my compound but did not take the office UN car as it’s forbidden. I am “mentally preparing” for the events ahead. Elections results will be announced tonight at 20h00. Exhilarating, I am realising a secret dream I have had since I was a child. The polo “maillet” is long. I am trying to hit the ball without hitting the poor horse’s legs or face

20h00: Elections’ results are post-poned to 22h00. Better this way, there will be less people in town so less problems.

22h10: The round of fire guns has initiated. Still do not know why exactly but the mess has started for how long, no one knows...

23H00: Luckily for us, this Sunday, electricity has not been cut off as it is usually on Sundays… Great, my frozen food has remained… frozen.

24H00 : Hell has broken loose, fighting around the forest compound about, some 3 km away from here and near by the UN Forces in Dacono called MONUC. Five deads and lots of internationals stranded in their offices in the embassies… It has gone wrong. I go to bed but keep counting the sheep without sleep arriving… as I hear constant fighting. Finally, I doze off to be awaken throughout the night…I do not sleep well…

Day II: Monday 21 August 2006

07H30 : My new boss sends a message that all is calm and we may proceed to the office. I believe she is making a major mistake. I first check with my sources and find out that its better to stay home and monitor the situation. As history has proven to me (remember Mongolia when I escaped death), I’d rather prefer to listen to my gut feeling than any other order.

I immediately call my team, composed of 7 persons; two of them are international and the rest are national staff. I suggest, against the new boss’s order (and yes, I will bear the entire responsibility if she does not agree with my judgement) to remain at home. They will all listen to me but one lady, Véronique. Later, she will have serious troubles getting back home…

Throughout the day : The day was calm, too calm perhaps as one could feel tension in the air. There has some fighting on and off yet it’s not pleasant as some seem very close. I avoid going outside in my garden, you never know, a lost ball and you are hurt. Apparently this is what happened to a Japanese national last night. He was on his balcony to see what was happening and bang, he was shot dead. Some detonation behind somewhere…

14H00 : I find out that my new boss finally comes to her senses (after strong convincing arguments from my colleagues) and decides to leave the office with the few “brave” who had showed up. I knew that if I showed up I could face serious problems in getting back home. Some other from other UN agencies, embassies and European Union personnel will be stranded in their offices until 22H30 tonight while other have slept at the office. They will finally be escorted by the MONUC tanks to their homes while bullets are flying right and left. An Italian friend comes back and is in shock. Some will sleep there…

16H00 : I had just fallen asleep, suddenly, a strong detonation wakes me up. They are now beginning what will become a “non stop six hour fight” which I become a “listening witness” to (as I can not see anything but hear everything). As I mentioned earlier, my house is located some 700 meters from the centre of the events.

Next time, I promise to myself, when I choose a house, I shall inquire about my neighborhood’s background. Lesson learned!!!

18H00 : Dawn is setting on Kinshasa, usually; it’s my favorite time of the day. Today it’s different; the birds’ songs are covered by the noise of the guns, Kalashnikovs, canons and mortars, all shouting near by. The heavy fighting has been raging for two solid hours now.

20H00 : I have been on the alert non stop since 16H00. I am scared, really. Too close for comfort. The Presidential guard (Kabila) and the opposition Leader troops (Bemba) have intensified their fighting near by. Mortars, guns, raffle, you name it, I have not seen it, and just the noise has convinced me of “real warfare” in my neighbourhood. By staying on the floor, I will avoid any “lost bullet”…

20H30: The guard Maturin knocks at my house, he is collected coffee for the national army who’s stationed itself in front of our gate. This means money and/or food. I give him 10 USD. Some of my neighbours will prepare rice for the 10 soldiers.

21H00: The Representative of the United Nations and the six ambassadors I mentioned earlier, met with the opposition leader and Vice President’s (Bemba) house has been shot at by the Presidential guards. This is why fighting has been so intense in the past hours. The UN and European forces (EUFOR) have arrived on the scene and are trying to negotiate their safe return to the UN base camp.

21H15 : This intense and heavy fighting has been raging for over five hours They are some eight thanks located near by. I am thus writing sitting on my kitchen floor, as far as possible from the window. I am writing live. I do not see anything, but I hear the warfare. Luckily for me, Michel my best friend and head of Okapi Radio (the UN sponsored by the Swiss) explains what is going on. I describe what I hear and he tells me what it means. I am a blind witness. Nothing on TV about DRCongo, I find it strange. The world does not know and/or does not care?

21H30 : Two lost balls have landed in my garden!! I have stayed on the floor since 16H00. I am drafting this portion of this diary from my kitchen floor. I have sat as far as I could from the windows while facing a wall. That’s my best protection. Problem with the Congolese is that they do not know how to shout straight. That’s why there are so many “collateral” damages when they fight.

21H45 : The UN and European troops were able to get them out of the bunker, all safely back to MONUC headquarters. The international community has helped the country in providing safe and democratic elections and this is the way its two mean leaders react. If I was an Ambassador, they would surely hear from me.

22H00 : My Senegalese colleague has been escorted by soldiers out of the hotel to another one away from the storm. While I spent these six hours on my kitchen floor she spent that time on her bathroom floor. To each it’s own floor!!! We kept in touch all afternoon, even cracking jokes over the phone, providing comfort to one another amidst madness.

01H30 : More firing, will it ever stop so I can fall asleep and find comfort in my dreams? My boy friend called to check on me. He tells me he is coming back only on 31st August. I am disappointed, I am so psychologically exhausted by this intense bombing and firing, I just wished Olivier was here with me; it would be so much easier…

Day III : Tuesday, 22 August

5h45 : I was awaken not by the roster’s but rather by loud artillery (tanks, rockets and mortars). Nice way to start what I realize is going to be my 2nd day of confinement. The two factions (the Presidential guard and Bemba’s - the opposition leader’s troup) are fighting near by the Congo River. In the main time, there is also fighting near by the leader’s house: Bemba. Let’s forget about Breakfast at Tiffany’s and let’s call it instead: “Breakfast under heavy artillery”. I stay in my bed, like an infant in its mother’s belly; I find solace in my bed while sipping a hot chocolate (also comforting).

06H15 : My Greek landlord who lives right besides Bemba’s house just called. His wall has been pierced by bullets but its still standing. Later on during the day, he will ask me to get MONUC to escort him out of his house accompanied by his two Mercedes. He tells me that he had an offer by the MONUC to flee his house but refused on the ground that he was only wearing a pair of short. I sadly realise that for some people, personal belongings are more important than their own lives…

07H30 : I keep hearing the “gun and Kalashnikovs fires” in “stereo”, live from my house were I am tucked but also on the UN hand set radio. Guards are being fired at.

8H45 : Fighting continues. French “reconnaissance” planes are hovering Kinshasa. Olivier, (an ex French marines) explains to me via text message what it means ; “they are checking things out prior to intervene”. He will prove to be right later on during the day.

09H15 : The belligerents are chasing one another in the cemetery located one km away. I hear the guns. It’s located right beside the gulf course. A friend of mine lives there. He is locked in with the local staff. There are fewer mortars but more gun fires. It’s changing into guerrilla warfare.

10H02 : I hear it loud and clear; fighting is taking place right beside my house. Is it the national army fighting Bemba’s troup? I guess so. Last night, my landlord has asked one of the commanders to post military at our compound entry. They asked for coffee when the arrived (meaning: payment). The government (for whatever it exists) does not pay its army. Most problems encountered in the field are due to these armed men which are unpaid, their guns is their salary.

09H00 : Bemba, the opposition leader, has tried to “make believe” he was dead, thus inciting the population to raise and loot. It has not worked… thank god.

11H48 : Calm has resumed. No more Kalashnikovs firing around my compound. I can finally hear the birds singing. Their voice is more melodious than ever before. This “TREVE” is due to the fact that UN Secretary General, Mr. Swing, accompanied by the ambassadors which form the CIAT (International Committee Accompanying the Transition) is currently meeting with President Kabila.

12H00 : The house is trembling, tanks are roaming on the street located some 20 meters away. French reconnaissance airplanes keep hovering above my house.

12H39 : The “Shegue” (boys gangs which are extremely dangerous) are trying to infiltrate my office. The guards’ voices reflect their preoccupation. According to the UN radio, the city is now empty. There are cadavers here and there on the road.

13H13 : Helicopters are also hovering over my house.

13H30 : The No 2 of the Belgium embassy just call to ask me if I can find food for the hospital in-patients. In DRCongo, it belongs to the families to feed their patients. Families being restrained at home just like us are unable to tend to their loved one in the hospitals. Just called the ICRC, for the moment, nothing can be done, we are quarantined at home.

14H01 : A friend tries to cheer me up and writes: “How is paradise?” I respond: “it’s hell”… My Belgium friends are now all sending text messages. They are well informed, DRCongo being an old “Belgium colony”…

16H00 : A cease fire has been ratified between Bemba and Kabila the “two enfants terrible”. The UN SG Rep and the CIAT Ambassadors met with them around lunch time. These two leaders should be ashamed of their behavior. They have taken the 60 million in hostages by putting into danger the election process which is not finished. There are still 35 million USD required for MONUC to be able to conduct the second tour. If donors do not provide the funding who will? These two have endangered the peace process and any hope the international community had to see the country to start rebuilding itself. It is hard to believe, as we keep hearing grenades and Kalashnikovs here and there but yes, it has dwindle down

Great. Yet, the snipers are still in the trenches and it will take a few hours prior to the EUFOR and MONUC to get them out. I am happy. It’s now over.

23H00 : I keep hearing this loud noise and the bungalow (cheap construction) shakes. Once more, I call Michel, "my eyes” to the rescue. What is going on? I describe what I hear and he tells me these are the EUFOR tanks. According to him, they are twice the size of the MONUC tanks. They are fully equipped “à la Rambo”. I can not wait to see them tomorrow. Frankly, I have never been into tanks but these 3 days has changed my vision on heavy artillery.

FINAL NOTE: Tuesday night 22 August

Once the cadavers will have been removed from the city centre, life should resume to some kind of normalcy as early as tomorrow. Again, I will only listen to my gut feeling. If I feel anything, I will stay put, I promise.

I wish to thank all of you who were able to contact me during these 3 days. It was quite an “experience”. Not one that I do not wish to renew nor that I recommend to anyone. At some point today I seriously wondered how long this “experience” would last. We are all lucky to come out unhurt of this sheer madness.

Hence, I promise you all that I will make a point to be out of the country when they will announce the results of the second tour some time (circa November). Once in a life time is enough for me!!! I have had enough of action oriented events I am aiming to a calmer life...

I am moving towards a new chapter, the one of becoming a mother. As you know, I will be going to China to pick up Charlotte some time later on this year (in fact the adoption took place only in 2007)and I must prepare for this new role. I guess Olivier will have some tricks to teach me, he has four children from his previous marriage…I was lucky, very lucky. I only had to stay home for 3 days, I had the basics with me, water, food, exterior contact and a lot of support from my friends much luckier than Lebanese that is a given.

These events are often turning point in one’s life as they allow growing in one way or another. I had time to reflect on a few things as life seemed on a stand still for a while. I had prepared a small bag with my most important personal belongings. The only thing I really cared for was my diary and my computer. I could not think of anything else as I carry the ones I love in my heart.

Out of Africa

Yes, finally, I am out of Africa, I am sure that my friend Tom will be delighted as he told me over and over (he was best placed to know the danger zones in which I worked as he is a "newsman" who covers the world).

I am out and happy to be... Kinshasa had become a bit too violent for my own good. Curfew (and already not much to do so imagine how long the evenings were), bullets flying over my head, hiding in the bathroom or the kitchen floor (see another story on this one)

I am sure that I will miss it, soon or later, its fragrance, its space, its people...

Ce n`est qu`un au revoir Africa,

Adventure mum

Becoming an instant mother - Baby 101

Baby 101 - I was thrown into it a few months ago when I picked up my Chinese daughter Xin Fa at the Social Welfare Institute in Southern China (Nanchang to be more precise).

Imagine a mother who finally picks up the daughter she has been waiting for two years and does not bring a diaper, a bottle nor a cookie. But I brought her a little toy! You`d say; you are not even fit to become a mother. I would reply; yes you are right but give me an hour to get my "motherhood speed into gear".

The fact was that our guide told us there were no need to bring anything as we were to spend only 45 minutes at the Welfare Institute to pick up our adopting daughters (we were 11 couples from Canada who had traveled together).

Once I held a crying and very much disturbed Xin Fa in my arms, her Nanny watched me for a few minutes and realized I had little (say no) experience with a 11 month old child. She kindly came to me with a bottle. The little one stopped crying immediately. Our conversation was made out of body language and hand signing as we neither spoke the other tongue.

So much for motherhood! But I did not give up, not yet on these first instants. I believe that human beings can perfect themselves and learn from their mistakes, can`t we?

I became a better parent the moment we entered our hotel room (my dad accompanied me in this "love journey"). I fed her properly and held her like any "normal" mom would do. See, there is hope when one is given the chance to prove herself!

I did not wash Xin Fa although she stunk. I figured she had already too much to get used. First, she had been "thrown" into someone else`s arms who did not resemble any other Chinese nanny she had knew, she spoke a different language and above all, smelled differently, no wonder Xin Fa was at lost.

I fed her and played with her. She slowly put a smile on her little face. By time afternoon came, she locked her eyes into mine and seemed to say: I get it now, you are now the person who will take care of me.

Since then, four pounds and two inches later, its been bliss between Xin Fa and I.

An "adopted" mother

From Kinshasa - Christmas letter - 2006

3rd of December 2006: If I close my eyes for a moment and listen to the sound of joy coming from the "kinois" (name for the Kinshasa inhabitants) who have taken the streets of Kinshasa to celebrate the victory of the first democratic elections in 40 years (if ever really), I could think, for a split second that I am back in Rome in July when the Italians won the "Mondiale".

However, the noises are different; in Italy the predominant noise was "honking". In Kinshasa (where less than 10% of the 8 million inhabitants own cars) there is no honking instead; I hear the joyous beat of tam tams and "whistles". These are used at weddings and even at funerals (honestly, I have never seen people having a better time than at funerals; especially for elderly people - Congolese believe they have had a rich and long life being an elderly is an exploit in a country where life expectancy averages 43 years).

Alas, as the "Mundele" that I am ("white" in Lingala) and contrary to Rome where I joined Italians' celebrating, I can not do so in Congo. We have been summoned to leave the office early and stay at home. Following the August events (where I spent 2 days on my kitchen floor being the blind witness to an uprising but where I heard distinctively the noise of rockets, Kalashnikovs, mortars and tanks), the United Nations has applied "tight security rules" for the staff who has remained in the country. Tonight, Bemba (the opposition leader and looser of this election) could retaliate, no one would be surprised, as he does not "believe" the elections have been fair!

Since August, both Bemba and Kabila (the elect President) have been arming their troops. There are more soldiers posted at corner streets than there are stop signs! The Supreme Court of Justice was also set into fire a few weeks ago only, while we were waiting for the elections results (it took almost 3 weeks as nothing is computerized in the field); this was another coup from Bemba.

Back to the celebration evening I am "witnessing" in Kinshasa. The compound where I reside is safely "tuck" behind a 3 meter high wall. Hearing such joyous noises, I cautiously venture to take an "historical eye witness peek". Congolese have taken on the streets and are walking by, singing their happiness and pride and hope of a better future for basic rights such as:

- free primary education;
- accessibility to potable water (meaning a proper well providing clean water, I am not talking here of the fancy idea of obtaining running water in houses, a luxury not thought of) and;
- roads' rehabilitation (imagine, in a country as big as Europe, DRCongo has only 300 km of routes and I am not talking above paved roads but dirt roads!).

Above all, resumption of security is the main concern; the national army should receive regular salaries this alone would stop ramping looting and false taxation from soldiers. Last, I hope that political efforts will be made to stop impunity and that children will be left "to simply be children".

On 5th of December, I heard another bang, this time the noise had a joyous connotation. It represented a symbol of hope as President Kabila was sworn in.

Today Sunday 17 December, during the Latin Mass, while the Priest preached on "waiting for the arrival of the new born who will save the world", I saw a bird flying over my head; he started singing, I took it as a good omen. The circle is now complete, the noises have transformed into a delicious song of hope and peace for this New year where waiting will finally end for Congo, Charlotte (my adoptive daughter I will pick up some time in 2007) and for myself. I hope it is for you too

The long march towards Xin Fa

Two long long years "in waiting", this is the time it took me to finally hold Xin Fa, my adoptive daughter from China, in my arms. This was longer than an elephant pregnancy!

Did I despair during these moments, yes I did... I did not see the end of the tunnel as the "pick up date" was post-pone over and over and over. I thought I`d never see her little face nor hold her in my arms.

I had imagined our first encounter as "a magical moment" and it was... but... not in the way I had envisaged. My fault - I was so nervous and under great emotional turbulence.

As we were approaching the "adoption room" at the Social Welfare Institute in Nanchang, Southern China, we heard the 11 little girls crying. When we entered the "adoption room", we discovered these little angels who were held by their nannies (two children per Nanny).

I immediately spotted Xin Fa (I had obtained her photograph 6 weeks earlier). She looked more blemish and skinny than on the picture the orphanage had sent me. Her skin was in a terrible state and she seemed tired. She was dirty and under a great stress.

These little girls knew something was "in the making". They had been moved from their orphanage most likely for the first time in their little short lives (average age was 10 months old) and bused to the capital city where, us, the adoptive parents would meet them. Imagine the shock and the distress they felt... It was tangible and I could have cut it off with a knife.

I approached the Nanny who held Xin Fa (I was too nervous to take her into my arms and I waited for the guide to "officially hand me MY baby") and kept wondering if she was in good health or not. She looked at me with great surprise. A long nose was trying to engage with her... A woman who spoke to her in a language she could not understand...

Once she was "officially" mine, she was handed to me by the Nanny and Xin Fa, as a welcoming gift, Xin Fa started crying. I could not stop her. I was desperate. Me, the mother who hoped to soothe her and take care of her could not stop my daughter from crying! That was a terrible start believe me, my heart sank.

I whispered to her that I was her mummy and that I would take care of her from now on. To no avail, my words had an effect contrary to what I had hoped; she started crying even more and sobbed and sobbed.

Actually, Xin Fa needed some water. Luckily for me, as I had not prepared my first encounter properly (I must admit I was a bit "out of myself that day") with a bottle and cookies, the Nanny gave me her water bottle. Xin Fa immediately stop crying.

These first moments are never how you expect them to be. It was not as romantic and easy going as I had dreamed but these first minutes are not the most important, what really matters is the bond which is developing between us, and this has been and is real bliss...

Tips for landing a job overseas

If you desire it "body and soul" you will get it but first and foremost, you must do your "homework". This entails the following:

1) do the research on newspapers and on the internet for the "potential" employer. At first you may cast your net widely and you will downsize little by little. Depending on the industry you are interested in, the diverse engines will lead you to headhunters and/or specialized web sites and/or magazines (examples: for mining, finance, teaching overseas, summer student employment, internships, travel and/or humanitarian and development work there are several job "listings" on the internet).

2) Once you have made a list of potential employers you must read carefully read their history, achievements and goals to see if it fits your the type of job in the environment you are seeking. However, at the beginning of a career one can not be too "choosy" the importance is to get "related experience and up grade your skills" in your working field.

3) Post your resume "on line" (if the employer offers such facility). Ensure that you are tailor your resume to the job advertised (use their jargon and make it sharp and snappy).

4) If such facility do not exist, tailor your resume to the company`s goals. Once its done, call the Human resources officer so you may call her/him and ask to meet so you can hand-deliver your resume.

5) If all the above are "just impossible" and unless you can interview from your home-country, frankly, the best way to land a job overseas is to travel to the country you wish to work in.

Again, careful planning is required. Make a list of potential employers which are already established (example the big hotel chains and/or travel agencies) so you do not arrived unprepared. Only take a visitor`s visa - careful this is not feasible in a country like Ethiopia and/or China - and a return ticket so you do not encounter problems upon your arrival in the host country).

Do note that one trend observed nowadays is to hire more and more local staff of the given country (say India as its labor force is extremely skilled), hence be careful prior to set out.

This has worked for many of my friends in the humanitarian world. When a crisis "erupted" people showed up and landed jobs with the Non Governmental Organizations (NGOs) but they had skills to sell for though...

Bonne chance!

Should I stay or should I go?

What a difficult question. I am thorned between two choices; one is to continue my 20 some years career with the United Nations and the other one is to stay in Canada in my home town with my family and friends... The second choice would mean more support for me to raise my adoptive daughter while the other could help me land the job I have been dreaming of in Geneva.

Not easy... let`s see what life has in store for me in the up coming weeks...

The adventure mum

Life is like a novel

We are all "walking novels". You are and I am one of them. Our past is rich and if everyone took time to listen, really listen to the other, he/she would hear incredible stories, acts of courage and heroism...

We are all walking novels and I hope to discover yours...