Ended the day at the British ambassador's residence, meeting
with him, the Dutch Charge and the UN Special Representative (a
Norwegian). I was sipping some fine scotch as we compared notes and
talked about serious Sudan stuff. It was approaching six and, as
usual, we had all probably had almost nothing to eat since breakfast.
Often don't have time to eat. We therefore made quick work of the
cashews and chips that had been provided with the drinks. The
Ambassador's wife offered her husband to refill the bowls. He,
understanding we'd make a meal of any choice snack foods he set out
in front of us, sensibly, if quietly, declined his wife's offer. We
kept drinking and talking but eventually I gave in and thought I'd
try one of the wrapped things in the bowl in the center of the small
table in front of us. Unwrapped it and since it looked soft, popped
it into my mouth. I immediately realized that it was not soft but,
in fact, hard as steel. It may never have been soft but clearly had
also been in that bowl for some time. Because it is what diplomats
do, I soldiered on as best I could. It was too big to discreetly get
rid of anywhere. I thought of letting it slip into my drink but
realized that could not pass unnoticed. I had no napkin. So I
downed some more scotch in the hope of dissolving it and eventually
ground it down to swallowing size. Needless to say, I did not
contribute much to the conversation during this period.
The
Ambassador noted my situation. An attentive host, he made a mental
note to get rid of the wrapped stuff at first opportunity. However,
the UN Special Representative did not notice. After my ordeal was
finally over and I could speak again, he reached for a wrapped thing.
The Ambassador, torn by a sense of responsibility and also
embarrassment, mumbled a warning about it being "hard candy"
but took no further action. The Norwegian popped it into his mouth
just as his phone rang. He got up and wandered into the hall to
talk. A few moments latter, I got up to leave. Said goodbyes and
went into the hall where I stuck out my hand to the Norwegian. By
the rules of diplomacy, he had no choice. He had to shake my hand
too. One of his hands was holding his phone so he stuck out the
other. In the middle of his palm was his discarded hard candy thing.
It was there in the middle as our hands clasped. Fortunately, he
was re-wrapped by this time. It's these moments that make this all
bearable.
