week in review

Periodically, I have to write reports about what I do for the people who pay me and the people who sent me here. Usually, these aren't very interesting. I don't know if this one is any different, but it is more than an analysis of the internal dynamics of my office. I was asked to write about "an average week." I cut parts that are already posted on this blog. Enjoy:

There really is no such thing as an average day. Some days, I expect activity and there is no one in the office all day. Other days that I expect a calm day, I find myself up late to finish a project. With that in mind, here is a week in my life. I don’t know if it is a particularly representative week (I usually don’t travel this much.), but it is a relatively interesting week & shows a lot of what I do. Wednesday and Thursday are the most average days, or as close to average as I have – meaning that I have one or two days like them every week.

Day 1: Saturday

[mostly previously posted]


I stopped by the office to e-mail a project proposal that I spent much of last week writing. We're working with a Kosovar women's NGO to send a joint Serbia-Kosovo women’s monitoring delegations to the Kosovo final status negotiations in Vienna. The delegations will hold press conferences to highlight the importance of protecting women’s rights and including women in decision-making processes. (There is only one woman at the negotiating table.) I sent the proposal to the leader of the Kosovar NGO and our contact at a funding organization, who has made encouraging noises -- she might fund it.


Day 2: Sunday

This was the first day in months – or at least what feels like months – that was completely unscheduled. I didn’t leave my flat. It was glorious. I caught up on e-mails, quilted, listened to This American Life, baked cookies, talked to my parents, and watched a bad movie on TV. If you ever have the chance to see Rules of Attraction, don't.

Day 3: Monday

I spent my morning studying Serbian before going to the office in the afternoon. (No one is ever in the office in the morning.) I checked the office e-mail & no one had responded to my project proposal. I had a brief meeting with my boss, during which I was told to work on writing more grants. I suggested that I sew some banners, which would be a fun project for me – I like being crafty.

That evening, a few WiB activists and I went to a lecture by a woman peace activist from Sierra Leone. It was fascinating to hear about the conflict there – of which I am completely ignorant – and make comparisons between women’s peace activism there and here.

After the lecture, we returned to the office, so M could pack up an overnight bag. Then he and I headed to the bus station where we caught the next bus to Novi Sad. We spent the bus ride talking in a bizarre mix of English, Serbian, and Spanish, about our families, women leaders, and the history of Nicaragua.

As N, the woman from an NGO in Novi Sad, drove us from the bus station to her office, she asked me to speak about racism in America the next evening at the roundtable on racism they organized to mark the International Day of Action against Racism. I agreed, but had no idea about what I should talk. I spent the rest of the evening chatting with people in the office, eating a late dinner, and being guided around the center of the city.

Day 4: Tuesday

M and I woke up early and went out in search of breakfast. We found a bakery and ate on a bench in the central square before wandering around a beautiful city park. We went back to the office and met up with Nada who took us along for erranding and siteseeing. We went to the bank, the beautiful old fortress overlooking the river, a coffee shop, and out to lunch. I had my first-ever pizza topped with raw cucumbers, carrots, and parsley. It was surprisingly delicious – like a salad on top of the pizza.

We then returned to the Esperanca office where I chatted with the activists, learned about the programs they are running, prepared what I would say later that night. As we wandered, I decided to speak about the racism experienced by Native Americans, drawing upon my experiences doing volunteer work on Lakota and Yakama reservations, my dad’s work with some tribes in Northwest Washington, and the stories told to me by my best friend, a member of the Coquille tribe. I feel like I can speak with some authority about that type of racism – all others would require some research.

And then: the talk. There were three of us speaking to a crowd of a few dozen in a student cultural center. After a professor spoke about the history of racism, I was up. I spoke of history – tribal disbandings, the trail of tears, and Indian boarding schools – and the present – tribal sovereignty, controversy surrounding tribal casinos, the lack of positive images in media, rural isolation and underdevelopment, and the issue of “blood percentage,” how native Americans, unlike any other race, have to prove membership. Following my speech, I fielded questions on the first amendment, Hurricane Katrina, and the existence of Neo-Nazis in the United States.

We then all returned to the office for a party. We drank rum and cokes and ate an apple-mayonnaise-walnut salad. At 10 that night, M and I caught the bus back to Belgrade.

Day 5: Wednesday

This was a slow day, to balance out the busyness early in the week. I spent the morning studying Serbian. In the afternoon, I went to the office to check in. I read the office e-mail. There were generally positive responses and a few changes to my proposal. The next step is to e-mail the proposal to a few more people. I was told that the woman who has those e-mail addresses would e-mail them to me shortly.

There is usually a meeting every Wednesday evening, but it was cancelled this week. No one that I talked to knew why. After a few hours of checking the news online and chatting with coworkers, I headed home for a not-so-exciting night of cleaning my house, watching a John Cusack movie, and reading the just-arrived December issue of The Messenger.

Day 6: Thursday

Another morning of Serbian study. I then walked around the city running errands: buying the book for the second level of Serbian classes, picking up a few groceries, and buying a train ticket to Thessaloniki. My brother lives there and I am planning to spend the weekend with him.

Again, I headed to the office where I sent a few e-mails that Stasa wanted me to write, wrote most of this report, did a bit of research on funding organizations and chatted with people in the office. I wrote e-mails to Belarusian NGOs asking what slogans they use in their activism for democracy. WiB is planning a protest in support of them next week and we would like to use their slogans – in Belarusian so the Belarusian authorities that we are targeting will understand us. I also wrote an e-mail to Pervez Musharraf demanding that he protect the rights of his country’s religious minorities.

Day 7: Friday

My first task of the day was packing and otherwise preparing for my upcoming visit to my brother in Greece. I then went to the office of KtK, a Swedish NGO that funds WiB and other women’s groups in the region. The women who work there invited me to stop by their office weeks ago and we finally managed to find morning that we are all free. We spoke about the situation for women and women’s NGOs in the region, regional politics, and our travels. They told me the history of KtK and gave me some of their recent reports on gender and peacemaking. The meeting was cut short when one of them left for a weekend trip to Kapaonik, a ski resort in south Serbia.

I then went to the office, where my coworker J greeted me with, “I need you to help me with research. I am trying to find information on the history of popular tribunals, specifically posthumous tribunals.” I spent the next hour googling and looking through the academic databases that I can access through my library cards in an unsuccessful search for anything on those topics.

I ended the workday checking office e-mail, writing to a new NGO contact in Hong Kong, writing this report, organizing some papers, and debating the merits of black banners with white letters or white banners with black letters before rushing home to grab my bag and head for the train station to catch the overnight train to Thessaloniki.