Greybeard's usual day at the office

It is 6am and through the haze of sleep I vaguely hear a bell ringing in the distance calling local Muslims to prayer. Ding… ding then a pause of a few seconds, ding…ding, another pause then ding, ding, ding, ding, ding, ding. This is my daily signal to leap off the bed (it is too hot to sleep under even a sheet) and wander through for my morning shower. On the way I flick on the jug because I cannot function without my morning cup of tea, and soak some muesli (provided of course that my fridge hasn’t frozen my milk, and the mites haven’t breached the security of my muesli packet) I live on the eighth floor of a 6 year old apartment block that already looks 20 years old, but is reasonably comfortable with tile floor and the obligatory dark stained hardwood furniture common in these parts. 

Shower, dress, breakfast and a check of the cellphone for SMS messages that arrive frequently from various media and other sources to make sure that the world hasn’t ended overnight, then off to the lift and out into the heat, noise and traffic of the morning for my half hour stroll to work. “Good morning Sir” from the building caretaker and security guards at the door. Already at 7.30am it is in the mid to high 20s and humid, and traffic is building up along with the smog. The road along which I walk to work is quite busy and there is a constant tooting of horns (the Sri Lankan equivalent of indicators and road rules). Crossing the intersections can be challenging, but at this time just as school is starting most larger intersections have a policeman directing traffic as the traffic lights just can’t cope – and in any case they are often ignored. My walk takes often takes me past several lady street sweepers who, armed with their ‘witches brooms’ are busy sweeping the footpath clear of leaves, rubbish, and just like NZ - dog poo!

Every couple of minutes a tuk tuk buzzes past and I am either tooted at or “taxi?” is yelled at me by the driver – I have given up replying. If I wanted a taxi surely I would be standing on the side of the road waving at one! A little further on and I pass by the World’s first woman Prime Minister’s house, the late Mrs Bandaranaike, then I come to ‘The Lily Petal’, a little local café that sells me for the equivalent of 70c NZ two bread rolls filled with a sort of savoury omelette, tomato, lettuce and mayonnaise – my lunch. It has become so routine that the shop assistant sees me coming and has my rolls bagged up ready as I walk in the door without a word having been exchanged. I don’t have the heart to change my order now!

I am usually among the first to arrive at the office just before 8am, but thankfully my Sri Lankan colleague Harin, has often beaten me by an hour and has turned the a/c on. I spend the next half an hour or so trying to stop sweating before changing into a fresh shirt. Another cup of tea follows along with a chat to Harin to catch up on anything that has happened overnight. Harin is the National Security Officer and will take over my role when I return to the NZ winter at the end of July. We often spend time analysing current events – what does this decision by Government mean? What happens if this person becomes Minister of Housing? etc. The rest of the morning is spent reading and responding to the 30 or so emails that have arrived since the afternoon before, and reading media and other reports online. Sometimes there are meetings to attend. There are lots of meetings in Red Cross! Often a brief update of the security situation is all that is required. Probably half of these meetings are with people outside Red Cross – UN, other NGO’s, Embassy staff, and a range of other people who all become part of our local security network as we become part of theirs.

We (Harin or I) deliver security briefings to visiting delegates warning them about what to look out for and how to avoid becoming a victim while they are here. Sometimes there are incidents to inquire into or analyse. All security incidents (from traffic accidents, to breaches of regulations) have to be reported to the security unit, investigated, analysed, and recommendations made, and records kept. I also have a variety of reports to write and keep updated so I spend a lot of time in front of a computer.

Before I know it, two milky sweet cups of tea have been delivered (10am and 3pm) and it is time to gather my bits and pieces and wander off home reflecting on the day, dodging puddles, tuk tuks and busses, and chatting to the caretaker at the apartment before checking the mail and taking the lift back up to the eighth floor. The apartment by this time has reached the high 30’s so I collapse under a fan and rehydrate with a cold can as I stop sweating again.

A quick bite to eat – often simple fare as it is cheaper and easier to go to a hotel for a proper meal every few days than cook, check the emails, write a bit, maybe watch Discovery Channel for a bit and I am likely to be on my bed under the fan by 9pm – this being the coolest place in the apartment. Perhaps I will have veges tomorrow, maybe my milk won’t be frozen by the morning……Thus ends another day.