It is common knowledge that UN missions are full of funny stories, and weird episodes, which are worth remembering later. Here’s one from UNDP mission in Luena – Angola – back in 1992.
A certain morning, after all the UN aircraft had took-off from Luena’s airfield to support Angola’s first free elections; I realized I finally had a moment to rest. Seating on an empty Jet A1 fuel drum, I took my portable cassette player (Walkman) to listen a peaceful music. That was when I noticed the Walkman’s batteries were flat, and needed to be changed. I knew I had a spare pair of batteries, somewhere in one of the (too) many pockets of my flight suit. While I was struggling with all those pockets, a local child cautiously approached me, observing every movement I was doing. It was normal to see local kids hanging around in the aircraft ramp, with a can on their hands, trying to collect wasted fuel dropping from the poorly sealed fuel tanks; therefore, I didn’t pay much attention to the kid.
– “Mister … please give me the old batteries.” – He asked.
– “These batteries are old, they’re flat, there’s no power on them; do you understand?” – I replied.
– “It doesn’t matter mister, please give me the batteries.” – He insisted.
– “Listen kid” – I replied – “I’ll give you the batteries, but they are not good; you won’t be able to take anything out of it!” – I said, while handing the old batteries to the child.
–“Yes I will” – He answered with a wide smile on his face – “I’ll cut it in half with a machete and put them inside a pot full with old fruit and fermenting corn bran; tomorrow I will have Caxipembe [a strong brandy made of corn … allegedly!], to sell at the open market.”
– “There you go! … I’ve just received a one-on-one chemistry lesson from a 12 year old kid! … So that’s the way you make the brandy we’re buying in the marked?
But the child had already run away towards the exit of the airfield, carrying the fuel can in one hand and my flat batteries on the other. That day on, I was concerned with the health of my Russian crews, which used to sing serenades at night, under our the colonial porch, heavily sprinkle with several bottles of Caxipembe “Expresso”.
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