Across the Ocean to a new life

The MPO with its various subsidiary plans of operations, and the State Plans turned out to be a massive tome. Actually, it was several tomes. The new RD, Dave Haxton, had a good idea – it needed a summary. So he called me in and said so. I agreed and he asked, “So, what about it?” I shot back, “So, what about it?” He blurted out, “You are the one to do it”
“no, way”, I had to retort. “ i am due to leave for my new assignment at the end of the month, and I have yet to help conduct the Goa planning workshop since I have committed myself to it. I have other loose ends to tie up too”.
He had to accept my stand, and we left the job to be done by Manu and my successor, Kamala who would be joining soon.

The Goa workshop was a good one with some more talent and capability surfacing among the support staff. It seemed a fitting end to our series of Planning workshops and to my tenure in Delhi UNICEF, as I had begun it with my recommendation to Grun to have a systematic training for senior support staff.

The last two weeks were spent in last minute shopping for my own needs and packing. And in last minute instructions to the household help, Saraswathi, who had replaced her sister, Sharada when the latter went to try her fortune in Kuwait. There were the children of course with so many questions, and I don't know what.

The flight to Addis was from Bombay, and I had some time before it took off. I went to see J.P.Naik who was sinking fast, lying on a hospital bed. [to recall what I recounted much earlier, it was JP who had given Irawathi Karve the grant for our study on the Social Aspect of Cooperatives in Maharashtra in 1967. Just a few years back, Satish and I had got UNICEF to support his and his wife, Chitra's, non-formal education project with some seed money.

This project was among shepherd children who never had been to school. Classes were held for them in the evenings in some cave or other shelter near the pastures. It had been very successful and a model for others to follow. J.P. remembered this with such gratitude that I was embarrassed. I could see he was sinking and so silently I bade him goodbye.

On the Air India plane to Addis the next morning, I alternately was absorbed in writing up the executive summary to the Situation Analysis that had so far not got done, and watching the unfolding scenery changes through the window. I had got an upgrade to business class, thanks to my brother-in-law, Sundara's position as a Director of Air India at that time.

What a treat the panorama unfolding itself under my eyes was! For some reason, the flight was throughout at an altitude low enough for me to see the entire landscape. Also the flight path was via rather north-eastward over Pakistan and then the Arabian peninsula before turning towards Ethiopia slightly south-westward. So after stretches of sandy dunes and plains that had specks of the oases, and the thin ribbon of more hilly Yemen, we were over the Red Sea, and most fascinating of all, the bleak desert of Dankil, bordered by the sharp ravines of the Rift valley. Suddenly, the land was all green hills and plateaux, and as we touched Addis, it was still the same.

The morning air was fresh and crisp. As I walked to the terminal building, I felt a bit insecure - a new life was beginning and I knew only Manzoor, and him too only slightly. But even as I was about to pass through Immigration, a man in some kind of uniform, like a chauffeur or guard, took charge of me and everything else in a friendly way that put me entirely at ease. Thus I got my introduction to Dagne Helawi, UNICEF Addis's chief driver and protocol man, who, once later, Wendy, then Admin officer, suggested be sent to all formal functions we 'officers' did not want to , or could not easily manage to attend, since so long as this impressively dignified man did not engage in any serious conversation, no one would be the wiser!