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by Michael E. Campana
(being a semi-fictional account of my sabbatical adventures, designed to amuse; to be read with a dose of skepticism)
23 September 2002
I'm staring at a gorgeous pastoral scene verdant hills, tidy farmhouses, golden arches, all beneath a gray, drizzly sky. It's 21 September and I am about an hour south of Vienna at Krumbach, staying in a medieval castle at a retreat being run by the Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe (OSCE), affectionately known as the Organization for Spreading Confusion in Europe, for its environmental and economic field officers (EEOs). Since I am working on a NATO/OSCE-funded water project in the South Caucasus, I was invited down to talk about it. It's humbling to be among these folks - mostly young - who are on the front lines in places like Georgia, Moldova, Belarus, Ukraine, Kosovo, Albania, Bosnia-Hercegovina, Macedonia, the stans of Central Asia, trying to build economies, civil societies, environmental ethics, fast-food franchises - indeed, nations. Daunting but satisfying (and stressful) work. Some of the people had humorous stories. A woman from one of the Balkan countries was in charge of OSCE's election monitoring, a task none too appreciated by some of the local officials. She found out that her charges had learned their English quite well. A few weeks before the elections, posters began appearing with the OSCE logo, but this time "OSCE" was translated as "Oh, Shit! Controlling our Elections!" One interesting development: some of the countries where OSCE is active have requested permission to monitor elections in Western Europe and the USA. That prompted some discussions about how to explain Florida. We also had an interesting conversation about the precept known as the McDonald's Principle of Conflict Prevention: No two countries with McDonalds have gone to war with each other since each got its McDonalds. Yes, this is true.
I also learned that we have a big water meeting in Tbilisi, Georgia, in early November, and I'm on the agenda. I sure hope IAEA tracks down those port-a-nukes by then, and that someone flushes the Chechens out of Pankisi Gorge (but to the north). To me, the Chechens signify the problem with defining a terrorist. As a wise person once said, "One person's terrorist is another person's freedom fighter." Take your pick. The Chechens are tough reportedly the only group the Soviet gulag couldnt break.
One thing about the river system we are studying in the South Caucasus, the Kura: the river is so polluted (undrinkable) as it flows through Tbilisi that the city's water supply intake is located farther upstream. Downstream in Azerbaijan, that same river system supplies 80% of the drinking water. The OSCE EEO for Azerbaijan told me about the absolutely unbelievable environmental degradation in the oilfields outside Baku, the capital. He said he has never seen anything so dismal, and he worked in Russia and Eastern Europe for seven years.
I have noticed a rise in anti-American sentiments at the UN complex. At first I attributed it to W's Iraq policy, but that was not the cause. The Starbucks invasion? Nope. I then learned that prices were rising in the Commissary and whose fault was it? The USA's! The fact that we have procrastinated in paying our UN dues has finally forced the Commissary commissar to raise prices dramatically, thus fomenting the ill will towards us. Cuban cigars just went up to 75 cents each, and premium single-malt Scotch now goes for $8 per liter. I can barely show my face around here! Please write your elected officials and describe the suffering now rampant here and ask them to fork over the billion or so we owe.
You're all aware of the infamous black helicopters the UN purportedly has in parts of the USA. Many of us attribute these sightings to the fringe elements of American society, but I have news for you: they (the helicopters, that is) exist! While deep in the bowels of the UN parking complex a few weeks ago looking for bicycle parking, I stumbled upon a huge floor with nothing but - you guessed it - black helicopters! Must've been hundreds of them. I actually encountered the man who is in charge of them: the Schwarzkoptermeister himself, Heinrich "Heinie" Assen. He was kind enough to give me a tour of his facility, and it was clear this was a man with pride in his work. He told me that there were actually many more schwarzkopters, but that most of them were on assignment, although he could not specify where. But I did notice one that had "Idaho or bust!" scribbled on it.
Heinie had an interesting past. He used to be the driver for Kurt Waldheim, the former UN Secretary-General and Austrian President. If you recall, Kurt had some troubles a few years ago -- turned out that was not an old Boy Scout uniform in his closet -- and retired in disgrace. Although Kurt had since left the UN, the powers-that-be decided that they needed to make a statement, so they revoked his lifetime Commissary pass, a coveted privilege granted to all former S-Gs. Legend has it that Kurt was okay until that revocation came through, but that about did the old guy in. For months afterwards, he would stand by the Commissary entrance, hoping to find a friendly face willing to let him slip in behind them. Mala suerte, Kurt!
Let me interject just a few words about the UN complex, the Vienna International Centre (aka "Kofi's House"), where I work. It has about 4000 employees, third most after New York and Geneva. The International Atomic Energy Agency (2500), the United Nations Industrial Development Organization (1000) and the Comprehensive Test Ban Treaty Organization (100+) are headquartered here, and about 400-500 employees work for the various UN agencies with offices here. The VIC is extraterritorial, so when I pass through its gates I'm no longer in Austria, which owns the VIC and leases it to the UN for $1 per year (who says the UN is stupid?). But that $1 yields a great benefit: if you figure the average UN employee's annual salary is $100,000, then that's $400,000,000 in salary money alone available to the Austrian economy each year (Austria sure isn't stupid!). Add to that figure all the money the UN spends to buy stuff, and that goes far in a country of just 8,000,000 and a city of just under 2,000,000. A salary of $100,000 is a lot of money, but Vienna is expensive. A house that would be $150,000 in Albuquerque might be $400,000 or $500,000 here.
Some of the IAEA Safeguards Division folks have bizarre senses of humor. They have to; these are the people running around the Caucasus, Central Asia and elsewhere looking for misplaced nukes, and the ones who will be heading back to Iraq to look under Saddam's bed. The other day I was taking the elevator down when two guys in orange suits lugging a heavy box got in. As we neared the bottom floor, one of them looked at me and smiled "You know, you really shouldn't have been riding down with us" and nodded towards the box. I thought for a second, held up my lunch sack, and replied, "That's okay. I'm just taking these anthrax spores down to the incinerator. You guys have had your shots, right?"
Last time I promised to tell you about the Meldezettel. When I heard this term two images arose. I thought it might be a medieval war implement ("Frau! Gibt mir mein Meldezettel, jetzt! Die Turkischer sind hier!") or a legendary beast who lurks in the Vienna Woods preying upon children ("Frau! Wo sind die Kinder? Der Meldezettel ist hier! Ahhhhhhh"). Actually, neither was correct. The Meldezettel is an innocuous-looking form all resident foreigners must submit to the Austrian government - a registration form. So I went to my district branch of the Rathaus to present my credentials. I really wasn't worried; the Austrians run an efficient ship and I figured I wouldn't have a repeat of my visa renewal in Egypt (talk about a Kafkaesque experience) or my dealings with Customs officials in Belize. However, in the back of (what passes for) my mind, I figured there might be a chance that my Meldezettelperson might be some cranky old civil servant, who remembers "the fires" (what many Wieners euphemistically call the Allied bombing in World War II), and is not fond of Americans. After a minute of waiting, I was summoned - no, ordered - into the Meldezettelperson's office. Imagine my relief when I noticed the posters on the wall: the Manhattan skyline, Bon Jovi and Tony Soprano. I was initially appalled that someone would dare associate New York with New Jersey, but decided it best to keep my mouth shut. And who should occupy the desk but a Fraulein half my age (though she looked older than 21) sporting that not-found-in-nature-color-of-red hair. No hay problema aqui! She was very efficient, but started smiling when she saw in my passport that my Geburtsort (birthplace) was New York City, and just started peppering me with questions about the Gross Apfel. She had already visited twice, and just loved the place. Suffice it to say that I got my Meldezettel stamped. Now I just have to remember to get it un-stamped, else I won't be allowed to leave, unless it's to New Jersey.
Fashion note: the upscale Bruno Magli shoe store is still in downtown Vienna, although I have noticed that they no longer carry the once-popular "O.J. Oxford", the stylish blood-red casual loafer that was such a big seller six or so years ago.
Some historical perspective: you're all aware of how popular tortes, those delicious desserts, are in Vienna. Few people know that they were invented in 1832 by Franz Sacher, whose name is now immortalized by the Hotel Sacher and its world-famous Sachertorte. When another establishment claimed it had created the original Sachertorte, this prompted a long, bitter court fight eventually won by the Hotel Sacher. This case was so significant in Austrian law that the most popular and prestigious specialty at the University of Vienna School of Law is torte law.
With that, I should leave. Auf wiedersehen, damen und herren.
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