Do not walk outside this area

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Where was I? We will get there on a train that begins in Milan and goes to Italian Alps near Mezzo Corona.



Years had passed drifting from one project to another at the UN. Most of the people I worked with journalists of some sort in the Department of Public Information. If they were lucky they were on a short contract and would be moving on to “field work”. If they were unlucky like me they spent short days at their desk writing emails to the UN staff in the field and reading about the world outside on long coffee breaks or on the TV monitors in the halls.

At one point one particular journalist really got under my skin. He had a passport with stamps from countries I had to Google to believe. When time came to renew my contract, I decided to venture outside the secretariat building and see what would happen if I gave myself year. Of course, in hindsight, it turned out to be a bad year to decide to un-employ myself, but such is life.

I went around to some colleagues at human rights groups and commissions and asked if they would have any use for photos if I brought back some from different countries (my plans were still vague). One particularly kind former colleague and warrior of the good fight, Jenny Perlman Robinson at the Women’s Refugee Commission, sat down with me and generously offered me guidance for my plans. She couldn't have any idea how far her little boost would take me.