Clusterfuck madness (and gladness)

What a week?! It’s Saturday morning and I’m enjoying my coffee in serene quietness after a stretch of non-stop madness, both good and bad. By Friday afternoon I accepted that I wouldn’t get out of the office till late, but declared to colleagues that a well-deserved stiff drink should be had come the end of the day. But that dream got spoiled at 17.15 when senior management get called in to a meeting to operationalise our quick response to the tense situation that’s been escalating over the last few days, the worst since the 2008 war. "Can I please ask everyone to be on standby, sober, for the next 24 hours". We all smile and revise Friday evening plans.

I had my week all planned out, and it was looking prima. I spent Tuesday out in the field joining colleagues from Mskheta on a patrol along the administrative boundary line with South Ossetia. We hiked in the forest to observe borderization and military installations and spoke with teenagers and old men in the nearby villages about their living conditions in the conflict zone. Oh happy day – when I’m in the field. The following day I was a part of the team receiving a delegation from the Swedish Parliament to brief them about the security situation and show them how people’s freedom of movement and access to basic human rights is hampered by military and border presence. After two days in direct sun and intense heat I was feeling faint so followed recommendations from my Swedish police colleagues and guzzled down litres of “resorb” (electrolytes, sugar and salt) and went to bed at 19.00 and slept for 12 hours.

Thursday morning is when the shit hits the fan. I have taken over the responsibilities of a colleague who’s gone on leave for two weeks so have three people’s jobs to manage (since I still don’t have a deputy). I wake up to 56 messages with reports of escalating tensions in Chorchana, a contested area along the Georgian/South Ossetian boundary line. Both sides are nervous and boosting their presence of security actors, accusations fly and threats are made. It’s become a hotspot and The Mission responds in real time. We’re told by the conflict parties that our ground presence is needed 24/7 in the area and yes, we deploy patrol teams and negotiation teams to the spot day and night. The offices are churning out reports with such dedication. It’s clear that our role is very important to contribute to stabilisation as the only organisation with physical presence. The conflict situation has not been this bad since the actual war 11 years ago. The sense of camaraderie is strengthened when we talk about how we know without a shadow of a doubt that we're making a difference. I feel so grateful to be a part of this Mission right now.

Not only are we in high alert mode as an organisation, but the deadline for our six-monthly report is due. And for anyone with experience of report deadlines you can just imagine the flurry and stress involved. I am coordinating inputs to the results reporting and there just doesn’t seem to be enough time to work on it. Talk about competing priorities. I suggest we ask Brussels for an extension of the deadline and am tasked with making the call (good one Jess, haven't you learned that voicing an idea is the same as doing it). I use my best negotiation skills but no go from Brussels.

But the real clusterfuck madness is the work I’ve taken over from my holiday-frolicking-colleague (no, he deserves his leave, but come on, it's all about timing!). “Jessica, so let’s have a handover. On top of normal tasks you have to plan the upcoming TWO high-level VIP visits to the Mission!” The focal person I’m dealing with from one of the delegations is a complete disaster who oozes insecurities. She manages to piss me off during our first phone conversation (me: "can you please send all these requests and questions by email so that I can respond after consulting with relevant colleagues?", her: "Haha Jessica, I am sitting in a car without my computer and I'm telling you all my requests and questions and I hope you will understand and remember, so please inform me tomorrow of the answers!"), and the offensiveness continues daily for a week. Not only does she ruffle my feathers, but she visits our field office and succeeds in offending just about every colleague she comes in contact witt. This women is rude, arrogant; a wannabe “Devil wears Prada” or “Cruella Deville” type of person. I attend a planning meeting at the Georgian President’s protocol office on bequest of the focal person/lady, accompanied with our security officer (who concurs that Madam is of the "I-would-love-to-strangle-her" category). I learn about the details of VIP protocol planning to include security aspects, motorcade parking, gift-giving, handshake protocol, photo angles, etc. Oh joy. But we get it right, and we deliver on point. Thank you lovely colleagues for coming together so professionally.

I spot several guys walking around in kilts on my way home Friday evening. “How you doing?”. Georgia will face Scotland in rugby tonight, and I’m meeting up with some colleagues from all of our field locations at the Irish bar The Hangar to watch the game. Oh I’m sure it will be a fun night. Must find the Scottish fans in town. Can’t say it’s been a boring week. How will it end?

I always said, as long as you have solid boots you'll be ok