Leaving Las Vegas

Elvis has left the building.**

As of 6pm today (well 6.45 by the time I finished clearing my cupboard), I no longer work for the OECD.
Wow.

Walking home from the metro tonight in the teeming rain, reflecting on my last day. I know a few people are probably wondering, what does it feel like to finish work at the OECD? After all, this was the first tangible round of goodbyes, to people I have seen week in, week out for years. After 3.7 years, it feels like the end of an era, but also the start of something.

The farewells started last week on a team retreat, and then continued with various coffees, lunches, and my final trip to the pool with my swimming buddy.

 I didn't know at all how my last day was going to feel, or how it would pan out. I had a list a mile long of things I wanted to tidy up and get squared away, and I have been pretty fixated on crossing things off this list for a few weeks now. But deep down I knew my last day wouldn't, couldn't be about that. I launched a new series of papers and sent out my final newsletter, so those were two big things that I could be justifiably proud of. And then I felt this wash of lightness, of release. After all, I only had a few hours left in the building. What was more important, filing every last scrap of paper or having a proper leave-taking?

So I went to lunch - for two hours. I didn't mean to. I had emailed the team the week before to say anyone who wants to join me for a sandwich in the park is welcome. But then summer has signally failed to arrive (ok weather gods, what's up this year - please!) and so I suggested the canteen. It's close, quick, relatively cheap, and coming from a culture with no institutional school lunches, but growing up on American sitcoms, I get a kick out of lining up with my tray.

But the team were having none of it, and dragged me out to a bakery / brasserie on posh Avenue Victor Hugo. Lots of big glass windows and light, surrounded by patisseries (millefeuille au cafe thank you very much!). And then that was when it hit me. How very very lucky I am, and have been, to work with such fantastic people. I think I have lost sight of that in the day to day grind, but the people at the OECD are some of the most talented, dedicated and warm human beings you hope to could come across.  The collegiality, the helpfulness, with no expectation of a quid pro quo - I have come across this before (especially at NZTE, where I am still in touch with a large number of kindred spirits) but what is stunning is how it is just endemic in such a huge organisation, despite the staggering workloads and for some, the uncertainty of employment in a project-based organisation. And sure, you meet some people along the way who haven't learned to play nicely with others, but you get that everywhere - and that's not what today was about.

Back at my desk I started writing a farewell email. There were so many people I wanted to thank, for their professionalism, but also their sheer warmth, which makes all the difference. I couldn't help include the proverb that is almost compulsory in any farewell email written by a Kiwi:

He aha te mea nui o te ao

What is the most important thing in the world?

He tangata, he tangata, he tangata

It is the people, it is the people, it is the people

And thinking partly about the high-stress situations we find ourselves in sometimes, me included, I added: Be kind to oneanother.

Well, I sent this out and kept clearing up my personal network folders. And then the emails started coming in, one after the other, faster than I could answer. People rang me to say goodbye. My team came in as they left for the weekend. The French "kiss on both cheeks" turned into proper Kiwi hugs. And the last two hours just turned into this wonderful celebration of all the fantastic people I have worked with over the last few years. I felt slightly bad that I didn't organise a larger farewell, but I am not sure I could have handled such an outpouring of emotion in one room. At one point I put down the phone and nearly cried "I take it back! I'm staying!!".

6pm came and went, and I was starting to feel reckless. I was meeting friends for dinner so I didn't have the luxury of time. Out went the years of archived notebooks, scribbles that only I could understand, draft reports that were finalised long ago. File, file, file, delete went the emails. Was the essential passed on? Yep. Would the world stop if I missed one thing? Nope. Luckily I was due to meet someone at the metro, so beyond a certain point I just had to go. I cleared the last few snacks and herbal tea bags out of my desk, gave up my badge, picked up the backpack with my flippers and sports towel, and walked out the door. And as I walked the short distance from the office to the metro, I ate my last madelaine.


So the short answer is that I feel happy and sad at the same time. Happy, because of the enormous luck I have had to meet and work with such great people. Sad that this is the moment I have to leave them all behind. But I know that the right thing for me is heading back to New Zealand. Going home feels like coming full circle and starting new adventures all at the same time.

And I know that I'll find a job that I will love almost as much back in New Zealand, managing web content in the public sector, with more incredible people. Because I'm lucky that way.

** not a reference to the horribly depressing movie with Nicholas Cage, but just the terribly catchy Sheryl Crow song, which always comes to mind at big life moments like these.