For the first time in a few years myself and Anna travelled
abroad this year, this time to Berlin in Germany. It was also my first time flying out of
Bristol Airport, a curious place nestled in the Somerset countryside. Myself and Anna have a joint mission to
explore more of Europe. I have travelled
fairly extensively in my life, but curiously few of these travels have centred
on Europe. I find Europe a fascinating continent. It is a tiny continent in size packed with
many different cultures and countries that look very different from their
neighbours. We did Paris before. So Berlin was our next choice. We stayed in an interesting hostel. It lost its charming element somewhat when I
was forced to unblock a communal toilet on the first morning but it was safe,
warm and very conveniently located. We
were only a 5 minute subway ride away from the centre. We went up the Ferhnstrum (the massive tower
in the city centre), we walked down the Unter Den Linden, Checkpoint Charlie,
saw the Brandenberg Gate, saw the Reichstag, the Berlin Wall and the Holocaust
Memorial among other sites. We even saw
Hitlers’ bunker, or rather its site.
Hitler wasn’t home owing to him having the long term and incurable
condition known as death. Berlin is a
fun and varied city. There is plenty to
do and there is a curious mix between the old and the new. Berliners by and large were friendly. Waiters and waitresses had manners far
exceeding their Parisian rivals. I never
had the chance to experience much German food, apart from a Strudel. I have made it my personal mission to have a
huge Bratwurst on my next visit to Germany.
Myself and Anna have resolved to come back in the near future. Perhaps to Munich. Friendly people, culture, fantastic
infrastructure, carnivore’s heaven food, very clean cities and with lots to see
and do makes Germany quite country.
After the unfortunate start to the summer this was the definitely a
satisfying way to end it.
Sometimes life sends you a strange curveball. On the day this happens you start the day
conventionally enough and then decide to do something completely out of
character at the end of it. About a
month ago I watched a very eye opening BBC Panorama documentary about the Ebola
Crisis in Africa. The programme followed
a young doctor who volunteered for Medicin San Frontieres to help in the Ebola
relief efforts in Sierra Leone. The
facilities that were being used were little more than camps. New patients had to be spoken to several
yards apart from the doctors before entering the camps, to prevent further
infections. After mounting his extensive
protective gear the doctor attached a camera to his goggles and went about with
his work. What his footage revealed was
distressing to say the least. Patients
were seated on very basic camp beds.
Some asleep and others were in comas.
Some just waited with a look of fatalistic resignation on their
faces. But the awful virus’ handy work
was never far out of sight. When it
attacked people with full force it was like a horror film. Bloody oozed out of the eyes, nose and ears
of the victim. I am normally pretty
stoic when I see this sort of thing on the news. But one particular scene in this documentary
got to me. During this scene a seemingly
recovering father had a brief talk to the father and then rose from his bed to
have a shower. Near him was his 3 month
old baby son who was under close observation, no one could be sure he had
Ebola. The doctor looked at the baby,
seeing no obvious signs of the virus he left the tent to check on the
father. As soon as the doctor stepped in
the shower he saw the father had fallen and was not moving. After seemingly recovering from Ebola the
father had died, possibly because his body was exhausted from fighting the
virus. Shocked the doctor went to check
on the baby boy who was now an orphan.
The doctor gasped as he approached the baby, eventually I could see what
he was gasping at. Blood was seeping
through the boy’s eyes, he was in the grip of Ebola. He was crying at the same time and his tears
were made of blood. He was alone,
confused and frightened. The doctor left
in a hurry realising there was nothing he could of done, resisting the urge to
stay there and take his protective gear off and hug the infant as he passed
away. I was in floods of tears.
I decided then that I had to do something to help with this
awful crisis. I decided to do some sort
of sponsored event. I ruled out sky
diving. Sick baby or no sick baby I
would need more of an incentive to jump out of a perfectly good plane! Such as it being on fire. That night I decided to train for an run in a
sponsored marathon for Medicin San Frontieres. In this way I will kill two
birds with one stone. I will raise money
for a good cause and lose weight (the latter a much delayed pet project). Also in my own way I will be sticking two
fingers at the sadly brewing sense of defensive nationalism and sneering contempt developing in this country for
problems outside of the UK’s borders.
Once too often I hear the quotes like “we have problems too” and
“charity begins at home.” The latter
quote is usually uttered by ignorant blockheads who would turn their nose up at
a Big Issue seller and think that Ebola is the name of some sort of new
band. A bad moon is rising in the politics
of this country. I will go into this
more in my State of the Union 2014: Political.
Stay tuned.
The more things change in another year, the more they stay
the same. In that tradition I have
remained committed to my nerd passion Model United Nations (MUN). Despite leaving university I still go to the small
and mighty University of Bristol’s MUN Club. I live in the same neighbourhood, so I have
all the more reason to go. But the main
reason I still go is that I bloody love it.
I mean there is nothing better than coming back from a day of working in
a soul destroying work and then arguing in favour of an American invasion of
Micronesia. I have spent a lot of time
in other university clubs but have never felt as at home or accepted as I have
done in this one. I was initially
hesitant coming back this academic year, wondering if I was a bit of a sad git
reliving uni glory days. But you know
what? If that is what I am I simply
don’t care. I have fun with what I do,
and two award for international conferences says I am good at what I do. The University of Bristol MUN is about to put
itself thoroughly on the map. As it is
the MUN world is pretty establishment minded and stitched up in terms of power
and influence. The big clubs spread their peacock feathers and instead of
crying out to mate, cry out for those to come to their international
conferences. To facilitate this very
greaseball arrangements are made, mirroring the real corruption in contemporary
politics. This even goes so far it stitches
up awards and dooms young clubs with new conferences to have a handful of
delegates. For fellow MUN delegates
reading this, note carefully. I am not
going anywhere any time soon. And while
I am here I plan to denounce, protest against and obstruct till this MUN Old
Boys club is consigned to the dustbin of history. Mark my words!
Myself and Anna in agreement. This year 2014 was the flat year. The year that the wave of activity and
excitement seemed to break. In the years
2012-2013 either myself or Anna was studying with high hopes about where we
would end up. 2014 seemed to represent
the iceberg of cold reality at the end of the wave. We have come to a mutual agreement that we
both need to aim high and push ourselves.
I have resolved to push for a PHD scholarship. Anna has resolved to explore other more
fulfilling career paths. I am tired of
working in menial jobs. I am tired of
working in place in which I am undervalued.
I am tired of being talked down to by incompetent agencies. I am simply tired of working in a job for
jobs sake. So I have resolved to push
for PHDs next year. If that fails I will
go all out for jobs in International Development and Relations. If that fails then the Last Chance Saloon is
the civil service; likely in either the Department for International
Development or the Diplomatic Service.
In any case 2015 will be a year of change and of setting my horizons
high. All that is left to do now is to
thank you all for reading and wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.
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