Opportunity Unlimited

The Age

Saturday August 20, 2005

INTERVIEW: CLAIRE HALLIDAY

The best piece of advice I was given was from a senior army officer when I was a 19-year-old platoon commander on an army exercise in Townsville. He said to me, "you can do anything". At the time it was a throwaway line but as you go on in life, and I went back to university and then to law school and started to achieve some stuff, those words came back to me. I do a lot of public speaking and that's the main message I pass on. If you want to be a racing car driver, you can be a racing car driver. If you want to be a writer, be a writer. Do it because you devote all your passion and energy to it. I wanted to get to the UN and that's what I did.

We live in the best country on earth. Australians don't seem to like being too patriotic because it seems a bit 'dicky', but for me, Australia is the best place to be. I've been away on and off since I was 18. Everywhere I go in Afghanistan, and even in my previous roles overseas, I have a bullet-proof vest and we live in a compound with high walls, drive around in an armoured vehicle, we live in a compound with high walls, lots of guards and lots of guns. I look at the kids in Afghanistan and think, 'where are these guys going to go - what future do they have?' whereas when I look at a kid in Australia I see someone who could really do whatever they want. I come back home and listen to people complaining on talk-back radio about how we have to pay tolls on roads, but at least we don't have to sleep with guns under our beds.

I have been able to sort out what's important from what's not. All this material crap doesn't mean anything. It's all about family and friends. People usually come to that realisation at some point . . . but I just came to it quite young because of the things I've seen and done.

I'm not going to change the world. Anyone who says that - whether it's George Bush or the Pope - is dreaming, but you can make a difference. The UN is a huge organisation on the ground in some of these troubled areas and I think we are making a difference. Roads are being built, schools are being refurbished, health programs are being run and elections are being held. It comes at a cost - lives have been lost - but I always remain positive. We're always moving forward but sometimes it's baby steps.

In Afghanistan, guys my age have known nothing but war. They grew up with Russian soldiers with guns, Islamic fundamentalists with guns and US soldiers with guns, but their human spirit is amazing.

Everyone asks me why I do what I do. They tell me to come back to Australia and be a lawyer and live the good life without exposing myself to danger, but I couldn't derive the same feelings from normal work that I can from knowing that I have played a part in watching Afghan women go to vote for the first time in their lives, or watching a kid go to school for the first time. Going to an area where, for decades, kids have been crippled by polio and seeing that a simple vaccine is putting an end to that, that's what keeps me going. Yes, it's a dangerous place but there are incredible rewards.

I have got a lot of respect for writers. Writing my book was hard for me. It's a year of sitting there by yourself, with your laptop. Once again, though, it's taught me that you can do anything. I wanted to tell my story - I think it's a good story.

My top three tips for surviving? One - situational awareness. It's a fancy way of saying 'watch your back'. Wherever you go and whatever you do, you have to be aware of everything going on around you. Two - Look after yourself physically. Eat well, don't drink alcohol, don't smoke, and make sure you exercise. I run around what is essentially a prison exercise yard for an hour. Why? It keeps me fit and it gives me time to think. Three - respect the people. It's their country. If you think that you're some foreigner expert who's there to tell them how to live their lives, it doesn't go down well. We talk to a lot of bad guys - drug dealers and war lords - but they will put their life on the line for you because you can walk in, say hello to them in their language, give them a hug, sit down on the floor with them, drink tea, eat goat and listen to their views. A 15-minute conversation in the West can take five hours over there but you have to do it. It's respect. It's probably the most important thing.

I was about 10 metres down the road from Paddy's Bar in Bali when the suicide bomber detonated himself and it was about two or three seconds later when the car bomb went off outside the Sari Club. I was on leave from my work in East Timor and on my way to the bar. I tried to do some internet banking but it didn't work so I had a beer, then walked back out of the bar to finish my banking. I was thrown and probably blacked out for about 20 seconds and when I came to there were flames and people running everywhere. I had a choice then - I could have got up and bolted and never looked back. Just as I was trying to put everything together, a guy stumbled past, carrying his own arm, which had been severed. I made a choice to help. Had I chosen not to - just gone back to the hotel and got the hell out of there - I reckon I'd probably be insane now.

You're never going to find the answers, so just forget about it. I could spend ages thinking about why I walked out of that bar in Bali, at that time, and after Baghdad (attack on UN headquarters), thinking 'why did I walk out to make a phone call just before the bomb went off?' I don't know. I don't believe in fate. I'm not a religious guy at all. I'm not going to go to any church or mosque or temple - nobody's going to give me the answers.

Bali to Baghdad and Beyond by Rodney Cocks, Viking, $32.95