Yesterday the day started grey and wet, but still warmer than home. By the time breakfast had passed and it was like a different days with sun and blue skies, so I set escorted my sister to the UN, for a look around while she went to work. Security measures were 'American', pockets emptied, sandals removed, and metal detectors deployed. I only set the alarm off twice, once with my belt, once with my bracelet. When I'd removed them and walked through, the guard asked me to raise both hands. I explained I could do one hand, but not both, as he had my belt and it could be a little tricky. His colleague smiled, almost laughed, but he was 'not amused'. However he gave my my belt back before scanning me. I don't think I've enjoyed saying "have a nice day" with a touch of pathos so much.
Once inside the building I have to hand over my passport and be issued with a red visitors pass necklace - "not my colour don't you have black" I want to ask, but there seems to be a lack of humour over here. Gillian disappears into the bowels of the UN to see if she is required, I observe the staff and visitors entering, some of whom you can identify their nationality by sight alone, others chatter away and give audible clues.
Inside and out of the building there are some lovely works of art. I won't write about them here, but will post a link at the bottom of the page.
My impression of the UN is based on Thunderbirds, it's the light blue hats. I don't mean to be disrespectful, but they are a kind of modern day rescue society. Countries veto and vote with their own interests, not with the general ethos of humanitarians, and so many people are condemned because their country has the wrong religion or accepts homosexuality, there land doesn't contain oil, or it does, in the case of Darfur.
I think Virgil, Geoff Tracey, Brains and Lady Penelope must have their heads hung in shame in a glass display case somewhere.
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