bout de papier, Vol. 3, No. 1 (1985) — March 1985 // Mars 1985, pp. 5–6
Those Well-housed Staffs
Editor, bout de papier:
There were, for me, three reasons why it was a pleasure to read Michael Fine’s article Going Broke in Washington, in August issue of bout de papier. First, an officer dared to complain that our life is less than perfect; second, that you actually published the letter, and, third, that something was actually changed because of these actions. I have, therefore, taken heart and am writing to you in the hope that my letter may encourage others to voice their complaints so that we may improve some of the conditions which govern our lives abroad
We are presently serving in Addis Ababa where an already difficult post in an L.D.C. is made more so by the indifference and inefficiency of those very people whom, we have been assured in the Pre-Posting Briefing, are there to help us.
At first I thought I’d begin this letter in a humourous vein by comparing the Post Report to the real estate ads — you know the one about “Handyman’s Special”. “The staff is well-housed” really means across the street from the sewage treatment plant with the master bedroom barely 10 feet from the outdoor privy of our Ethiopian neighbours and lacking a regular water supply. “Garden suitable for entertaining in the dry season”
– that is if you can find two consecutive inches which are level and enjoy an unobstructed view of a corrugated tin shanty and a rusting water tank, and the fact that after 14 years of Canadian occupancy the garden has nothing to cover the tin-topped wall and there is not one flower or shrub in the garden. Entertaining? Not for me and certainly not for my three small children who can’t manage its cracks and crevices to play on their swing set. In fact you risk a sprained ankle just crossing the lawn to inspect the water level in the rusting water tank. But it’s not funny is it? One of my daughters has a large scar on her forehead and my husband has an injured elbow from falls on the house’s crumbling staircase that neither the Ethiopians nor the Canadians will fix. One-third of our air freight was missing for six weeks – sent through Heathrow A.K.A. in the trade as “Thiefrow”, where it was divided for shipments to Addis on at least two flights, on British Airways and Ethiopian Airways when Frankfurt and Lufthansa stood as a ready alternative. And all this under the supervision of a summer student. For nearly six weeks we had to worry about replacing all our clothing, kitchenware and silver and where do you find children’s summer clothes in September? We had to move into a house that was too small for our family and inadequate in many other respects as well, so that we could claim what luggage was here and so save it from a watery grave in Addis airport. It was only thanks to the persistant intervention of a friend in Canada that our belongings were ever found since both British Airways and Ethiopian Airways alone were unable to locate them – especially with the incorrect air freight numbers. You may rest assured and unsurprised that we have never received a word of apology for this mess from the Department.
It is exhausting to be in yet a third post with shabby furniture and an uncertain water and electricity supply. Why must this happen in post after post? Who is allowed to choose the orange and chartreuse living rooms and to decorate small bedrooms in three fighting shades of navy blue? Why do we always get the torn and paint spattered drapes, and the garden that no-one has tended for years. Why after 14 years of Canadian occupancy does this house still have only two towel racks in the bathrooms and no medicine cabinet — a real hazard with small children? Why are conditions allowed to deteriorate to this extent and why can we never find the person responsible? And how can the Post Report lie and say “the staff is well-housed”. We live in dumps.
During our two years in Lagos, we complained about the appalling housing and critical lack of water and electricity and nothing happened. When our replacements refused to accept our house they were given a better one and all personnel were given a housing deficiency rebate. During our stay in Switzerland we were refused a furnishing scheme for our new S.Q. and were given most shabby mismatched, soiled and unsuitable furniture left over from a closed section at another mission. When we complained about this my husband’s colleague who had given us the furniture confided to a friend “I don’t know what they’re complaining about, their bottoms didn’t sit on so good in Canada”
And now we are here in Addis, in the midst of a devastating famine with almost everything difficult to obtain. Since we were not warned of this impending disaster when we left Ottawa in July, and since the climate appears to be totally different from that described in the famous Post Report, our choice of personal effects is inadequate to meet the situation. And so we asked for a supplementary shipment – and so it was refused.
In no post report or conversation with our predecessors did anyone bother to say that even the scarce supply of local flour is heavily diluted with soya and corn. It has an unusual and decidedly acquired taste. We would prefer to import pure white or wholemeal flour but with a post index of 105 we find it financially impossible and so must make do in a most unsatisfactory way.
Addis is a post where employees rent an FSD-30 vehicle. Since my husband is physically handicapped and can drive only a car with an automatic transmission and, since the post thought that Ottawa had ordered it and Ottawa thought the post had, our lot fell on a four year old, Ethiopian maintained Fiat with a faulty clutch and doors which, though locked, pop open when the car goes over a bump. This is the vehicle, with no seat belts of course, which we use to ferry three small children to school, and which costs us, in addition to the monthly rental, $55 a week in gas for its normal trips around town. (The Volvo wagon in Canada cost us $25!)
In the 3-½ months since we’ve been here my husband has been asked to travel for extended periods of time on several occasions. This is a most unsettling situation for both of us because should we lack water, electricity or even the feeble Fiat the Embassy is in no position to provide anything more than moral support. It is incredible to believe that the Department would expect a husband and father to willingly leave his wife and children in such circumstances.
Had these problems arisen in only one post I would have felt that it was just bad luck, but since they have plagued us since the beginning of our career we certainly find ourselves among the many who are (continued on page 6) seriously wondering whether or not this is the life we really want. It seems that if we remain in the Foreign Service we will alternate between two cycles; one in which we repaid the damage done by tenants to our homes and gardens in Canada and the other in which we take a deep breath, fly halfway around the world and, exhausted, begin to do these same things all over again. Must it be like this?
One of the most galling aspects of this whole affair is my inability to find someone who can solve these problems – one idea might be for the Department to consider hiring an Ombudsman (person) with powers of redress.
I am fully prepared to acknowledge that many difficulties are inherent in life abroad. We can’t change the Ethiopian attitude towards women or the push and shove of the African market — but they are the types of cultural acclimatization which we expect to make. We don’t expect to, nor should we have to, fight tooth and claw to live a decent, safe life for which the Department scrupulously charges in rent share, FSD-30 vehicle rental and meticulously pieced out allowances but which they make so little effort to provide.
I would be pleased to hear from anyone who has experienced similar problems, especially those who might also be handicapped, and who might have ideas of how we can solve them.
Suzanne Mooney
Soward Memorial Fund
Editor: bout de papier
You will have heard, I presume, the sad news of the sudden death of Dean Soward on New Year’s Day. He will be much missed by all his friends and former students.
We at the Department of History are taking counsel to get up a soward Memorial Fund in order to establish a Graduate Fellowship in History and International Relations in his memory. We believe that Fred Soward’s national reputation was such that there may be people connected with External who would like to have an opportunity to mark his passing by contributing to supporting a young Canadian to follow in his footsteps.
Fred Soward was a Canadian nationalist but always understood this as encompassing and serving the aims and ideals of international partnership. As a leading member of the League of Nations Union, the Canadian Institute of International Affairs, the Institute of Pacific Relations, and the United Nations Association, he always sought to demonstrate that Canadians had much to contribute as world citizens. Like his contemporary, Lester Pearson, Fred Soward believed in the value of diplomacy and conciliation, and the particular role which Canada as a middle power could play in the promotion of liberal democracy. His numerous writings on this theme and the highly popular annual lectures he gave to the Vancouver Institute were evidence of his deeply-felt commitment to the educator’s of informing and moulding public opinion on these vital topics. His war-time service as Special Assistant to the Minister of External Affairs in Ottawa was equally part and parcel of his recognition that scholarship and service went hand in hand.
John S. Conway Professor The University of British Columbia 1297 – 1873 East Mall Vancouver, B.C.
What Do They Say In…
Editor: bout de papier
In his little contribution to the recent edition ot bout de papier, John Hadwen notes with pride his victory in having M/RC buttons installed on the Tower “A” elevators in the Pearson Building. I wonder if Mr. Hadwen knows that these buttons give rise to one of my favourite episodes from life at the Pearson Building.
One evening one of the departmental secretaries, who has since left the department — a lady of a certain age from Western Canada who had only recently joined the foreign service – was coming down in the elevator after having worked a bit late. With her on the elevator were a number of gentlemen of senior management persuasion, either actual senior executives or those who wished they were. One person observed the new M/RC buttons and asked what the RC stood for. As none of the other occupants of the elevator offered an answer, and as our secretary was brought up to believe that a question deserved an answer, she replied, “It means ’ress de showsay”. After a short silence a voice from one of the honourable gentlemen said with a slight French accent “In French we say ’rray de sshowsay’”
Again more silence, but this time embarrassed. Whereupon our secretary replied “in Alberta we say ress de showsay” Just at that point the doors opened and she walked off to a storm of applause from the other assembled passengers.
Since that time I cannot look at bilingual signs in the Department without asking myself what Alberta would think.
Richard Belliveau
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Originally published in bout de papier, Vol. 3, No. 1 (1985) — March 1985 // Mars 1985, pp. 5–6. Read the rest of this issue →
