Here’s a tourist shot of the United Nations headquarters.

Today, I went to NYC for like the fifth time this summer, but unlike those other times, I didn’t go to Chinatown.  I walked the streets of Midtown Manhattan like a tourist, with a heavy backpack (filled with books to catch up on summer work in the library) and a camera ready in my hand.

Practically penniless, there really wasn’t much for me to do.  My mom took my sisters and an officemate to Madame Tussaud’s Wax Museum, a trip that I didn’t want to partake in just because I don’t care much for celebrities.  Instead, I opted to stay alone as my dad worked in the office and the girls ogling the wax effigies in that museum.

Still, nowhere to go.  My mom brought up earlier to finally go visit the UN headquarters, an invitation that I always declined, just because I always thought it was a mere building, filled with offices.  Sure, maybe offices of diplomats, offices of high-ranking peoples, but offices nonetheless.  Nothing to see there.

I was right.

My dad took me after lunch to the UN headquarters, and I finally agreed to go, so I could finally obtain a judgment of the place.  We breezed through these security measures due to my father’s employment in one of the United Nations organizations.  The first room we encountered was pretty large, filled with walls with all these information about the UN.  Probably information about the UN. I didn’t actually get to read any of them because my dad was rushing to drop me off somewhere.  Don’t get me wrong though.  I was actually interested to read some of those to get an idea of what the UN is about.  In that same room, there were some tours going on, with tourists listening attentively to a guide talking about the Secretary-Generals.  Probably talking about the Secretary-Generals.  The tour was in a different language.

Now that might have been worth half an hour to an hour of my time, but still, there was still that “What’s so great about the UN headquarters?” sentiment in my mind.  From what my dad told me, there were two floors where the tours took place.  Compared to over thirty floors of the actual headquarters, it seemed petty.

So why wasn’t I able to read the information on the walls or listen to the tour in a foreign language?  Because my dad could drop me off at the UN library in the UN headquarters.  First of all, when we actually entered the building you see in the picture, it looked like a regular office complex to me.  Hallways, elevators, security guards, and important-looking people.  Second, the library?  Come on.  It’s pretty much like any other library, except bearing the name “UN.”  I even expressed to my dad how disinterested I was at that point, making him finally realize that I didn’t want to stay there anymore.  We left, and he went back to work, leaving me to my own to walk around Midtown.

Now, one would think that I have this loathing for the UN, but I don’t.  I just don’t understand all the fuss about the headquarters, especially how my mom constantly insists that I request a field trip in school to the UN.  I don’t understand what people are hoping to find when entering the UN headquarters.  I wish I understood.  I want to understand.  In fact, I’m fond of the fact that so many nations across the globe have decided to come together to form the UN, but it’s a mere concept.  Nothing to see though.

Maybe these are just the ramblings of an uninformed teenager, but my opinion of the place will not change unless someone points me to a different direction.


2 Responses to “UNinterested?”

  1. your posts are kind of annoying. you seem on the boring side, but your pictures are aliright.

  2. ^That’s pretty rude. Next time, try leaving some CONSTRUCTIVE criticism.

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