1976 - Another Eventful Year.

A Month Away is a Long, Long Time! - The UNICEF Staff Seminar
when I was chosen to be one of the 24 or so for the annual Staff Seminar, I was naturally excited, but also worried about leaving Adit for three to four weeks. He was just 2 ½ years old, but when I told him I would be out for a month but that Appa and Annaiya would be with him, and that he should be good etc., etc., he did seem to understand and internalise the admonition. The adults were also quite sanguine about taking full charge and so I set my mind at rest.

The Staff Seminar was UNICEF's major global training event for which promising staff members from various levels and categories were chosen. In our group, most were middle level professionals, both international and national, but a few were senior general service staff. The orientation package told me that this year the Seminar was to be spent partly at the Institute of Public health, Zagreb in what was then the federation of Yugoslavia, and the Institute of Social Studies, the Hague in the Netherlands, about ten days in each place. There was also a brief visit to the Central Warehouse that UNICEF has in Copenhagen, for an orientation on our supply operations.

Off and on, I had heard from Margaret, my friend, about her exciting trip to Israel [she was about 1/8th Jewish – part of the original diaspora, like Diana's forefathers]. I had also been very impressed by the interesting advances that Israel had been making in every field and very sympathetic to the kibbutz concept. Now, while planning the trip, I decided I should include a peek at Israel before I came back home! So the whole trip would take a month.

With Diana's help, I got a good deal again that gave me a night and a couple of days almost in Athens en route to Zurich, where I was to connect to Zagreb. I had my fill of exciting sightseeing in Athens, reliving the Romantic poetry and Greek drama that were so much a part of my literature loves. I fell in love with another exotic Greek masterpiece, their cuisine – the salads with feta cheese and olives, stuffed grapevine, spinach pie and so on. I was lucky to get a hotel that overlooked a square that had some very nice yet cheap restaurants around, the weather was pleasant, and so it was altogether very lovely. There was the flip side to all this too as a to save costs, I shared a taxi with a lunch companion when going up to the Parthenon, who I found was very much on the make! I had to ditch him hastily and thank my good luck that I got away with it.

By the time I got to Zurich, I was tired and bravely was struggling not to nod off for fear I would lose my connection, when I sensed rather than saw and heard some 'UNICEF presence'. Let me try and convince you that such a thing is possible! It has happened to me again, though years later. Nor was it only something that happened only to me. I forget if I sidled up to the man standing a few feet away or he to me, and asked very tentatively, 'Excuse me, but do you happen to be from UNICEF?' 'Yes' was the astonished answer, 'Are you? How did you know', etc. More surprises were to come, one after another, and the group was joined by more from different parts of the world, and soon we were nearly 12! when we got on to the plane, one of us remarked there was a rule that forbade more than a small number , six I think, traveling by the same plane – reasons obvious. Well, there was not much we could do so we made the best or it -just got to know one another.

The Institute of Public health in Zagreb was a premier institution in the then still undivided Yugoslavia. A few years since the passing away of Josef Tito, the federation was still strong and socialist-oriented. We started with an introduction to the country and its economy, politics and society; what struck me most was the ratio of the salaries of the lowest in public service and the highest – 1:20. I think in India it can be even higher than 1:20,000! A double-edged point in their system of socialism was that consensus was sought for key issues but this involved an inordinate number of meetings that each adult seemed to have to attend. Unfortunately, it was not easy to discuss politics as such with anyone and we could only observe and deduce or rather guess at the situation. There were a reasonable amount of goods in the market, or at least so it seemed to those of us coming from India [those from the West might have noted a paucity of goods or extraordinarily high prices].

After the faux pas at the Gruns' dinner, I had decided I would try again to eat non-vegetarian fare so I would not stand out or create a fuss in the international crowd. Of course, the Yugoslav cuisine has been somewhat influenced by the Middle East, due to having been under the Ottoman sway for a while, for example, Kabobs were a regular on every restaurant's menu. So it was a far cry from the insipid fare that I had tried to gulp down at the Gruns'. After a few days however, I realised that I was eating hardly anything at the one restaurant meal that the group generally had together, lunch being by common consent a catch-gobble-run affair, both to save time and also to cut down on heavy food twice daily, thus avoiding drowsiness during the lectures and discussions. Like many others, [who incidentally were not vegetarians] I used to shop in some grocery for something simple, light and quick. My choice usually was a meal of bread, cheese, fruit and yogurt. The others might choose some cold meat sandwich and beer or a soft drink. I realised I was subsisting on this meal plus the breakfast that went with the room when I did take eggs most often. I gave up pretending I could return to non-vegetarianism; childhood socialisation was just too strong!
The last straw was our last dinner before leaving Zagreb. It was at an outdoor restaurant on the banks of a river and was quite festive. Our reserved table was already laden with some dishes and everyone went 'OO, ah!' over the centrepieces – on one table it was a large fish looking glassily at one from every angle and on the other was a placid-looking roast suckling pig with an apple in its mouth! I was nauseated and quickly chose a seat at the far end, and ate what I could, not looking at the centre even once again! I knew then that it was no use struggling to eat non-veg again.

The course at Zagreb was focused on public health and was very rewarding. We went on one field trip to a primary health facility, a kind of dispensary, which was very educative. Another point that makes that trip memorable was that when we sat down for lunch, all of us including our chartered bus driver ate together. This was unthinkable in India [even in the 90s and the new millennium, we have had no success to make the driver of any vehicle we are using sit down to eat with us, though we keep inviting them to do so! Of course, most Indians would not dream of even asking; rather, they would frown if someone else did ask and woe betide the poor driver if he did venture to do so on his own!].
During the weekend, our group went to the fantastic Plivovitz waterfalls – the waters were a brilliant blue - due to the copper-sulphate in it, we were told. An enchanting place- hopefully it was not destroyed in the war of the last decade.

The Institute of Social Studies, The Hague
A world-renowned academic institution, ISS, as it was universally known, had at that time a definite leaning towards the left. Also, its field studies in developing countries were mostly in Latin America. On the other hand, our group being from all parts of the world, and composed of people with varying political inclination, we were at logger heads with the staff often.

One of them had a panacea for all social and economic ills: Drive out the agricultural landlords and hand over the land to the tiller, etc. there is no use of any social development programme unless this is done. Our quarrel was not with the first part of the strategy, though as UNICEF, we would not advocate violence, but the second. We apprised him, those of us from India especially, of our failed attempts to do precisely this in the first flush of independence – the fudgng of property ownership, the gifting of barren stony land while posing as the benefactors, the return to penury of the tiller or ex-tenant who once again was caught in the coils of the avaricious landlord. Bill Reddaway, from our office in Patna, was the first one to raise objections to the professor's stand - he would start, “But in Bihar,..' and we would knowingly titter.

A visit via the Balcony

I was sharing a room with Suchada, from the Bangkok office. It was a record summer that year in Europe with the temperature in the Hague touching 40* while we were there. Even though we were close to the seashore, we could not get even a whiff of a breeze. the rooms were neither air-conditioned nor had a fan, so we had left the balcony door open. One night, as we were both reading up and jotting down notes for the next day's assignment, we first only sensed a movement from the open balcony of our first floor room. Then one bare leg came into view and I could see Suchada freeze in fright.

With a thump, a fat, fat woman clad only in a bikini stepped over and lurched into our room. She was wildly gesticulating and saying something over and over again in German. All I could make out was 'hund', 'hund'. When it dawned on me what she was repeating, I firmly told her, 'no hund [dog], no hund here'. Instead of going away, she came right upto me and caressed my hair that I had let loose to dry after my shower. What she said I could not make out, but it must have been appreciative of my long tresses.

Suchada was almost hysterical and said, 'Padmini, what shall we do, what is she saying? Why won't she go?'
i tried to pacify her, 'i think she is drunk – let us call the manager if she will not move out' . Once more I tried, 'your hund is not here, and if you do not go away now, we will call the manager'. At that moment, there was a knock at the door, and a man came in apologising, said something stern to the woman, and led her away. We were most relieved, but Suchada shut and bolted the balcony door despite my remonstrations that it was such a hot night!


The awe-inspiring Heyward
during the sessions at the Hague, we had a visit from Dick Heyward, one of the two Deputy Executive Directors of UNICEF, whose reputation was that he was very sharp and demanding. Apparently, he came down for a day or two during each staff seminar, to size up staff members who were potential promotion material and in case they were national officers, prospective international staff. He did not call them for the interview; you had to ask for it. As with such formidable seniors, he was caricatured - never looking one straight in the eye, and silent for as long as it took the other person in a face-to-face situation to break the heavy silence. Also, he had the habit of incessantly rolling up his tie and letting go of it, and then back again. He also mumbled so that one had to strain to catch his Australian accent. .. But everyone wanted time with him – except me. To the amazed queries of the others, I said, well, I am not looking for an international appointment, so why see him? Why indeed, and risk that opaque silence!

Years later, when I got to know him a bit more, he often sauntered into one's room with some idea or the other, and then he did not wait for one to speak, nor did he ever roll up his tie and back again! It was true that generally he looked down at it as he mumbled and one had to staring to catch his words. Even after he retired as Dy. Exdir, he came and worked daily in the office on an annual honorarium, one heard, of one dollar. He was prepared to help any of us in proposal writing, planning a new programme, or doing field visits and advise on policies and programmes after that.

The Israeli Visa

Soon after World War II, as Israel made phenomenal advances in various fields, I had developed a great admiration for it. I knew a little about the history of the creation of Israel and sympathised strongly with the Palestinians who had lost their everything in the wake of the creation of the Jewish state [Remember Golda Meir declaring ' A land without people for a people without land'! ].

Yet, the achievements of the Israelis and the lingering sympathy for holocaust survivors had overshadowed that enough for me to want to see the country for myself. A lot of the glamour did fade away during the Six-day war in 1967 when the Israelis after defeating the combined Arab forces, just annexed the territories it had taken during the war and even a decade later had not relinquished its control, UN resolution or not! Even so, the kibbutz, the greening of deserts, etc., were too appealing.

The trigger that set me off to try and make it there now was a report from one of my close friends, Margaret, who was of Jewish [Indian] extraction through one grandparent. She had visited Israel some years earlier and was enthusiastic about it. I was told that I would get the visa in Europe, so I tried in the Hague. When my Arab colleagues heard of my plan, they were aghast. We had all become friends, and they could not believe one of their own, so to speak, was actually planning to visit Israel! I was equally firm in my resolve so the only advice they gave me was not to get the Israeli visa stamped on my passport if I ever planned to visit any Arab country.

It turned out that the Israelis themselves were sensitive to this problem and I was given the visa on a separate sheet that was to be attached to the passport for the duration of the visit. The visit to the consulate itself was a bit of a worrying experience, though today, one might consider such security arrangements routine. I had to pass through a special cubicle possibly screened like a piece of baggage and asked a thousand questions. This tight screening process was perhaps due to the fact that the Entebbe raid had taken place just recently.

In the meantime, our group was due to spend two days at the organisation's headquarters of its Supply Division and the Central Supply Warehouse. It was mind-boggling to visit the latter – huge but more important, the briefing revealed to us how well managed and coordinated the operations were. Our claim, regularly tested and validated, was that in an emergency, UNICEF supply kits for immediate relief could be delivered anywhere in the world in 24 hours. These kits, if I remember right, consisted of, at a minimum, tents, children's nutritious snacks, first aid and essential medicines and cooking utensils [as often grains are provided by the World Food Programme or other agencies but no utensils]. Our tour of the warehouse showed how this was possible – it was so well organised and labeled that any type of packet or kit could be located and stacked for delivery in no time at all. Nowadays, computerisation must have made this even more efficient.

We enjoyed Copenhagen greatly. I recall especially the famous pedestrian streets choc-a-bloc with the commercial area. We had a lot to gawk at and giggle over – the sex shop, the blue cinemas, though some of us at least were too timid and embarrassed to visit any of these! Then there were the Mermaid statue and other sights.

Our seminar was officially over with this visit. I had decided to visit the U.K. For a few days. In London, I visited Dr. Trudy Harpham of the Institute of Tropical Medicine – she was the editor of a book on child health to which I had contributed a chapter; and the UK Committee for UNICEF. Then on to the University of Sussex, for its Institute of Development Studies, which involved a pleasant train ride to Brighton and back.

But my very first visit was to the famous Veerasami's, a hoary Indian restaurant renowned for its mulligatawny curry. Not that I chose that dish. When the waiter proffered me a menu, I waved it away; instead, almost about to collapse with longing, I demanded 'have you rice and rasam?' [a staple thin soup that one mixes with rice in the usual South Indian menu]! He had, and I plunged into that homely dish, sooooo tasty and soul-filling after nearly a month of coping with all kinds of vegetarian combinations and adaptations in lands that were inherently non-vegetarian!

I did a lot of shopping too here, mainly for Adit and the house, but also for myself, and then found my inexperience had led me to accumulate more than my suitcases would take. I had to leave some stuff in the local Engineers India's office for them to send through anyone coming next and having some free baggage space.

Israel
Now my last stopover – to Israel. At London airport, my suitcase was opened and searched so thoroughly that not even a pin could have escaped notice. Still, I told the apologetic official I did not mind since this was just after the Entebbe raid and it was natural, I felt, that the airlines should be so wary. But in those halcyon days, such searches and the now standard question, 'did anyone have access to your suitcase since you packed it?' etc., were not common.

My itinerary had been arranged by the Israeli Director of Social Welfare, whom Margaret had written on my behalf. It was a mix of project visits and sightseeing. I was keen on a stay at a kibbutz, but the scales fell from my eyes when I did so. Like some other kibbutzim, this had become more of a tourist venue and a very crass one at that. There was almost no agricultural activity, and the hallmark sharing ethos was evident only in common meals and laundry.

Even more disappointing was a visit to a preschool on the edge of Jerusalem. It was in an Arab neighbourhood and the state -run facility was shown off proudly. But I could see that it was not so well-appointed as the one I had seen at the kibbutz. Even so, it was much better than the standard Indian anganwadi. Boasting about how the state provided such good facilities, the social worker asked me why in India we did not have similar ones. I retorted that we could then only serve a fraction of the eligible group [Not that we have even today managed to serve most of them with the minimal standards we use].

The sightseeing held no such disappointments. Apart from Jerusalem, I went to Nazareth and Bethlehem. But the political and economic aspects intruded upon even this enjoyment when I saw everywhere the plaques proclaiming the sleek building or monument to be the gift of someone whose name inevitably was Jewish, always from the USA. The whole country seemed to me to be propped up by American Jews.

My brief interlude in Israel ended, I returned to India, but years later, I was to learn more about the country from the perspective of the various Arab countries I had to deal with when in the Middle East and North Africa section of UNICEF, especially with the Palestinian Occupied Territories. This led me to delve into the complex history of the Israeli- Palestinian conflict only to find myself confused still. This is not the place to go deeper in this question, nor am I an authority on it! But, how often opportunities to resolve the problem seemed to have been lost!

Representing UNICEF
Back in India, I was given the responsibility of being the programme focal point for various international events that were to happen during the decade such as the Alma Ata Conference on Health for All scheduled for 1978, the International Year of the Child [1979], and the mid-decade south asian regional conference on the Women's Decade [1980].
On the information side, Razia Ismail, our Information Officer, was the focal point for IYC. We had to work together on these events, and to represent UNICEF SCARO [i.e. the Delhi office] in meetings with Government, NGOs and other UN organisations. Sometimes very frustrating, or boring, but useful experiences. Working closely together on this and other issues, we became fast friends and remain so still.

Once we both had to go see the Jt. Secretary, Ministry of Social Welfare, then the nodal ministry for child welfare and development, regarding one of these events. As we entered his room, the J.S. looked very markedly beyond us and remarked “ Oh, nobody senior from UNICEF?” In a flash, as always with her, Razia rejoined, “ If you look quickly from Padmini to me and back again several times, you will note there is one senior between the two of us!”

We found A.B. Bose, the officer in charge of data collection and analysis in the Department, and the Deputy Secretary, Saha, easier to get on with. As one involved myself in data issues, I got to know and respect Bose specially. Saha had a special interest in adoption, and we from UNICEF worked with him to try, as an initiative of IYC, and get an uniform bill that allowed adoption by all communities passed by Parliament. India has many acts that apply only to Hindus, as the Govt. is reluctant to interfere with the personal laws of the minority communities, for e.g., the Hindu Code Bill was passed soon after independence – this changed a lot of archaic laws so that women had a better deal in inheritance, marriage and divorce, etc. a number of people clamored for the bill to be extended to other communities but the Govt. was afraid to stir up a hornet's nest as some of the rigid sections of certain communities were vocal in opposing the idea. Unfortunately, the amended adoption bill did not see the light of day, nor has it even now in that form, though some changes have been made.

Razia and I worked on many other initiatives for IYC. One was to get the rich to sponsor infrastructure badly needed - health centres , Anganwadis for child development, schools, parks and so on. Our slogan was “ India is a poor country with many rich people”. The bait we held out was that the sponsors' names would be emblazoned on the buildings they funded. A particular version of this was a children's park where health checkups and health education would be imparted to street and working children, and children of the poor., when they came in to play [a captive audience!]. Unfortunately, none of these initiatives got underway, due to various bureaucratic or political hindrance, I do not recall which.

We also interacted with the Tribal Development Commissioner, Dr. Vidyasagar, a scholar and activist for tribals on some special schemes for them. Again various hurdles got in the way of any real action. on one occasion, Dr. V remarked that he was not perturbed by reports of proselytization by Christian Missionaries, if they were able to uplift the tribals. What have we Hindus done for them all these centuries, he asked. A view not many in India would fully agree with, though his question is still valid.