Newsletter October 05

I was chanting with a whole crowd of Buddhist friends at a meeting in Friend’s House (a truly somber soulless place that comes alive to the sound of nam-myho-renge-kyo) when my friend Claire Bertschinger came over, and whispered urgently in my ear, "Psssst… you MUST come outside. There is something really important I want to show you." We snuck out bending over so as not to impede the view or concentration of the chanters and sat on a stark wooden bench in the corridor. Out of a bag Claire produced a pair of two inch black stilettos with a neat chisel toe." Do you think they are too racy?"

Well I have teetered on 5 inch sparkling Manolos in my time so I tried to readjust my tuning to a more modest wavelength to suit Claire, a former Red Cross heroine who Bob Geldof and Michael Buerk among others have called a saint.

 

"What’s your dress like?"

"Red!" smiled Claire naughtily.

"Well it’s all about being comfortable in yourself Claire. If the shoes do that for you then fine." I realized this was a very important decision for her but I also knew her feet would not be showing behind the podium where she would be accepting her trophy the following week at the 50th annual Woman of The Year Awards at the Guild Hall.

En route for the presentation lunch my cab driver gave me an unexpected treat as he took a slow detour through Hatton Garden to see the diamonds. When I arrived Claire was all twinkly too, obviously fired up by the photo call she had just finished. Grace, my daughter was by her side, taking care of her every need, making sure that nothing made her feel nervous. It is not easy for Claire, a nurse trained to negotiate the wounded and dying over enemy lines in every imaginable war torn hell hole in the world, to enter the sophisticated, superficial world of the glamorous and celebrated. Her final placement was in Ethiopia during the heart-rending famine where with pitifully limited resources she had the terrible task of choosing which babies lived or died. Captured by Michael Buerk on a TV news report, her plight moved people to get Band Aid and then Live Aid together and recently inspired the Make Poverty History campaign. This experience had not exactly prepared her for the champagne sipping and small talk that the spotlight brings. But Claire was doing her best and succeeding in her no nonsense, have a go, if it doesn’t kill you it’s not a big problem, way.

 

Claire was in good hands so I flitted about chatting to some of my heroines who were attending the lunch – Diane Abbot, Norma Heyman, Joan Armatrading, Esther Rantzen, and Sheila Hancock who informed me that people also told her that we looked alike!

Our table was alongside Tina Turner and Margaret Thatcher who both also received awards. Claire sat on my right and a Commander in the Metropolitan police sat on my left. She was SO glamorous. I am not going to name any names, but the table’s subject matter was too enticing not to mention. So what did this cluster of female high achievers discuss? Well, firstly hairdos. What was the best low maintenance style that was also feminine and fun? The answer remains open and we agreed to reconvene next year. Secondly, if and how much surgery Tina has had, did we approve and under what circumstances we would go under the knife. Thirdly, what was the minimal amount of makeup we wear at work? On this there was complete consensus – lipstick, though most of us had chewed it off by coffee break. Lastly, how did we deal with an all male board, work unit or group of employees who did their best to undermine our input and dismiss our efforts simply because we were women? The responses were truly remarkable but one lady confided that her chairman had informed everyone that he did not like pink; it was tarty, especially pink painted toenails. Since then she has secretly worn luminous fuchsia toes to every board meeting and has now initiated a Pink Day when all the directors, including the men, have opted to wear the offending colour.

 

Then came the serious bit. They applauded politely for Maggie, cheered for Tina and stood up for Claire. Before presenting the awards each recipient had a movie shown of their achievements to illustrate why they had been nominated. Claire’s was incredibly moving. Her award honoured a woman whose dedication to her work, often in demanding and difficult circumstances, has opened the eyes to a world we otherwise would not have known about or even tried to understand. I could feel her anxiety rising as the film of her at work was played so I squeezed her hand under the table. I was hoping that she would not make me turn around because there were tears streaming down my face. I was so proud of her and so happy to have her as a friend.

 

In her acceptance speech Claire said:" I am very honored to receive this award, thank you. Who would have thought that 20 years ago stuck in a remote area of war-torn Ethiopia with no regular means of communication, no running water or electricity, covered in flies, bitten by fleas and with a boil on my bum, that my cry for help was not only heard but also acted upon.

During the intervening 20 years I have not realized what actually happened, my memories were of hell. When Michael Buerk took me back two years ago, I decided that I wanted to create some value out of all the suffering I’d witnessed and lived and that by writing my book, ‘Moving Mountains’, of my life experiences so far, I could show the world that an ordinary person could overcome not only educational but also emotional and physical difficulties and still make a difference to our planet. If I can do it so can you.

Technology has made the world smaller, making us all neighbours, but we have yet to create the village mentality of looking after each other. We ask ourselves, what can I do, I am only one person? You don’t have to be a nurse on the front line to change the world. I believe we can all transcend our differences and make humanity and not economics our highest priority in life."

As she returned to her seat we were all on our feet applauding. I noticed that she was even more diminutive than usual. I looked down. Claire had ditched the posh new shoes and was wearing an old pair of flat ballet pumps. And she looked very comfortable in herself.

 

Most people assume that because their paths in life have run in such parallel that Claire and Bob Geldof are close friends. In fact they have never met each other. This was to happen the following week. I imagine the anticipation on both sides was immense. I forewarned Claire that Bob is a giant of a man towering above most men. When he set eyes on her he gasped, "Oh! But you look like Madonna!" I won’t even begin to go into the Freudian interpretations. No doubt he was surprised that such a tiny feminine form as hers should house such a powerful resolve and the deep compassion that had impacted and influenced not only him but the rest of the Western World so profoundly to take action to fight the evil injustices in Africa. Claire, who is not well informed on pop culture, was puzzled. "How should I take it?" she asked

As a compliment, Claire.

Claire is reading extracts from her book "Moving Mountains" on Wednesday 7th December 7.30pm at Islington Town Hall

 
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