Day 2: Long Lines, Massive Rooms and Comfy Chairs

Written by Joshua James, intern at UFI

I endured some more inhumane line waiting today, this time it was made bearable (actually, enjoyable) by a UN Secretary from the Philippines. He was passionate about family, just like me.

He told me stories from his peacekeeping days in Sarajevo. While he was there he met a woman that was due to have triplets, but the government, community and family were pushing her to abort. He willingly volunteered himself and some friends to adopt the children, but the woman refused.

He left the country a few days after that conversation, only to find out later that the babies were aborted.

“I cried,” he said. As he told me, tears billowed in his eyes like storm clouds.

I couldn’t help but get choked up myself.

Our conversation was cut short when we both scuffled off to receive our new badges. We were able to exchange information, so I hope to keep in touch.

From that conversation I was reminded there are great people within the UN—but that doesn’t make the UN good.

After conquering another line, I was now ready to attend my first parallel event.

A parallel event is usually a panel or lecture series organized by a non-government organization (NGO) in a room somewhere on or near the UN campus.

Parallel events are organized for two main purposes: one is to inform delegates concerning a certain issue, hoping to persuade them to vote in a specific way; and the other is to inform NGOs concerning a certain issue, in hopes to persuade them to advocate for a specific cause.

The information provided at these events gives delegates and NGOs an easy reference for when they are involved in negotiations of a document (tomorrow the first document negotiations will begin, I’ll explain the process and the importance of the process then).

Oh, and (I forgot to mention) CSW parallel events are usually run by the most liberal, anti-family organizations in the world (couldn’t leave that out). Organizations like: Girl Scouts of America (I was surprised too), International Planned Parenthood Federation, Catholics for Choice, the International Lesbian and Gay Association and many, many more.

The events cover just about any issue that may (or may not) be facing the women of the world. Topics range from sexual orientation to maternal health (abortion), religious “freedom” and climate change to downright sexual revolutions.

The parallel event I went to today was on Climate Change and Gender Responsiveness.

The event wasn’t as tantalizing or controversial as I’d hoped. Climate change rhetoric was prevalent through out the presentation, but it was given by cute, old Korean women—it would be pretty tough to debate with them. Not only that, they fed us Korean food at the end. Even if they had been advocating murder of innocent war refugees, I probably would have smiled and nodded. (Note from Shellie: Josh is a terrible person. Don't worry, not all UFI team members will turn to the dark side for Korean Food)

Here they are. I told you they were cute.

Other members of the team found a little more controversy. You’ll hear from them on the blog—just keep reading.

Continued...

I spent about an hour in the Economic/Social Conference room. It’s a large, well-lit room, with rows of long white tables. I sat at one of the tables in a comfortable brown leather chair that faced the front, where a panel of seven women faced back at me. In front of every seat there was a microphone and translation machine on the table. The machine itself didn’t do the translating, I know because I could see the translators through windows on the side, but no matter who spoke and no matter the language they spoke—I heard English through the machine (if only I had this machine on the streets of New York!). The meeting began with a formal presentation about women in politics, then each delegate who chose to, could have the floor for 2-3 minutes. When the delegates spoke, their voice (or the translator's behind the window) is the only voice that comes through the translation machine, and the speaking delegates are featured on giant screens located all around the room. Most of the time I didn’t know how I should feel, bored or fascinated. It seemed that when the delegates spoke in English, the intrigue faded (there’s no awesome translation machine action) and I’d get really tired (I told you the chairs were comfy, and I didn't tell you the delegate's statements were flat and overstated, but they were). I was on the verge of leaving (or sleeping), when one delegate got me to sit straight up. When the chair announced El Salvador would be next, I didn’t think much of it. Even though she was speaking Spanish, which always made things more interesting, I expected more pontificating—I was pleasantly surprised. The El Salvador delegate started with a story (I love stories). She explained that El Salvador is debating with itself these days. Since the release of the CEDAW (Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination Against Women (I guess CEAFDAW was too much)) document, El Salvador has been disputing whether or not the document should be adopted in their country. In El Salvador, abortion and homosexual marriage are not legal, but the CEDAW document would demand otherwise. The El Salvadorians are unsure if adaptation of the document would be worth the sacrifice of local values. El Salvador is facing a problem many nations face. Most of the smaller countries naturally want to be seen as internationally responsible nations by accepting international law. Also, the acceptance of these documents often brings financial aid, something some smaller countries desperately seek. These documents seem to create an “in-crowd” that countries feel pressured to be a part of, even if they have to sacrifice their morals (sounds like high school to me). Her story helped me learn for myself that these documents do spread the UN dogma, even to countries that oppose the UN morality. After the El Salvador delegate finished speaking, I slouched back in my chair. I only sat up straight again as I started making preparations to leave twenty minutes later. I don’t know how the delegates do it.