What It’s Like to Chill W MLADIC

By

    Only
post attending that day did I truly understand the total lapse of 
security existing then at the United Nations in New York City.  I say
this owing to the social fact that the Law Projects Center was indeed
registered as an United nations accredited NGO it is true.  However,
closed meetings of this sort meant attendance was strictly limited to
head ambassadors of valid United Nations member state missions and non
governmental organizations possessing observer status were not allowed.

   
Unto present, I’ve yet understood whereby I gained entrance into this
privy closed meeting consisting of only United Nations  ambassadors,
but I did.  Walking to the basement floor of the United Nations
building that day, I merely wore a visitors badge given to me at the
front desk in no manner indicating that I was an ambassador of a United
Nations mission;  least of all the Bosnia mission as required for
entrance.  Totally unaware I didn’t possess necessary credentials to
enter the meeting, I walked confidently towards the entrance door and
past the guard stationed outside it.  The guard never bothering to 
examine the type of badge I wore around my neck simply said “good day
Madame” and urged me into the meeting; it was just about time to begin.

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I immediately sensed something wrong once through the door past the
guard.  First, I was uncertain where to sit.  Everyone else had a sign
in front of their seat stating their country of origin. The Israeli
ambassador sat in front of the Israel sign, the Spanish lady sat in
front of the seat indicating she represented, Spain etc.. 

 

   
I looked fervently around the room seeing no seats indicating seats for
United Nations observers anywhere.  The last thing I wanted to do was
to embarrass myself by taking the seat of an important ambassador; I
noticed a couple of men seeming from some African state grabbing some
meeting paperwork nearby so I inquired of them.

    I told
them I was a newbie and inquired where to sit and what I should do. 
With heavy African accents one of them said, “just grab a bunch of
these papers, sit there and look like you are busy,” so I did.  In
fact, I grabbed as many extra copies as I could without looking
conspicuous when noticing another peculiarity. 

    The
meeting papers indicated they were for restricted for the eyes of state
mission heads’ only (chief ambassadors of countries) and allowing other
persons and/or United Nations employees to view them was a punishable
offense.  Uncertain what to do, and with the meeting beginning, I
merely sat there stunned.  My seat and the one the African gentleman
next to me took seemed extras because they neglected having any
indication regarding country origin in front of them on the table; I
felt safe. 

 
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