Considering the immense number of powerful people attending the Earth Summit + 5 at the New York UN Headquarters this week, you would think security at the conference would have been executed to the pinnacle of perfection. With a distinguished list of delegates and speakers ranging from Princess of small islands with long names, to President Bill Clinton and Prime Minister Jean Chrétien, there were indeed plenty of UN guards and an army of NYPD (New York Police Department) officers around.

There were blue (NYPD) and black (UN) uniforms swarming the entrances and on the roof-top snipers.

Anywhere from one to four blocks of 1st street were blocked off (photo of street), depending on the level of importance (let's just say Prime Minister Chrétien got 1-2 blocks, the president of Argentina got none, and President Clinton got 4 and an army of media). But did this presence exhibit form or function? Let's examine the evidence. Day 1 My first day at the UN, I decide to attend the opening plenary session. I take my camera along, afterall I'm a photographer, and am promptly asked to leave it at the front gate. No problem. I head out the building doors and ask two guards if I was heading in the right direction. Sure. I arrive at the front entrance, only to find an abandoned office. I return to the building door. The guard assures me I could leave my camera at the front gate. I assure him I wouldn't leave $2,000 worth of equipment without a gun and a guard in front of it (after all, this was New York City). He tried to re-assure me after calling the front gate guard-apparently the front gate guard "just took a break." HMMM...

Day 2 I decide it's time to get the guards to speak. I'm practically arrested for pointing a tape-recorder at an officer. "We aren't allowed to make comments on security," was the official response. Of course, this was after several minutes of candid discussions on factual foils of security in the absence of that deadly recording device. HMMM...

Day 3
Security Headquarters, UN--It's time to go to the top (actually, it is on the first floor, but that's beside the point). Head of Security, Mr. Macahn will not comment. He refers me to Mr. Samir Sanbar, Assistant Secretary-General for Public Information. It appears the Head of Security isn't really heading security. He assures me I won't get permission for commentaries on security, but I should try. HMMM... Mr. Sanbar is on the 10th Floor-must be more important, so I give it a try. I miss him the first day.

Day 4
Public Information, UN --Now that I'm on the 10th floor--maybe I'll get some answers. After a brief wait and introduction from a pleasant assistant, I'm greeted by a smiling, portly, middle-aged man with an attractive and indistinguishable accent. "What can I do for you Mr. Duerksen?" I thought of telling him about my back problem and the fact that I forgot my lunch money that day-but I was sure that's not what he meant. Instead, I asked him if he could release his people from the vow of silence, the bondage from babbling, the muzzle that kept their tongues from wagging, the - you get the idea. "Free them!" I said. "Let them speak!" I demanded. "Is there no freedom of speech at the UN?!" Mr. Sanbar turned to answer the phone.

After several awkward minutes making small-talk with the assistant (although, I find out that Winnie the Pooh will be playing at the UN theatre-the UN has a theatre?). Mr. Sanbar hangs-up the phone and re-directs his attention to me: "I'm sorry, you were saying?" HMMM...

We talk pleasantly for several minutes about security. He tells me freely of a time when a very important head of state was the principle speaker at a recent UN conference and was late. "His car approached the guards at the gate, but he wasn't allowed to enter. The guards told the man that there was an important event going on and that in no uncertain terms would he be permitted to enter, at least until it was over. The speaker promptly informed the guard that if he wasn't let in, there would be no event." Sanbar says that security requires a lot of communication and task delegation between units. He then informs me though, that he is not the one I should be talking to-I should be interviewing Mr. Machan because "He is head of security". HMMM...

Day 5
The big day. The UN is bustling with activity. Odd looking "civilians" with earphones and sunglasses are lurking on the outskirts of the UN building. President Bill Clinton is coming this afternoon. Security numbers virtually double for the once modest, middle-class Arkansas schoolboy. Four blocks are cut-off to the public on 1st street and people gawk from the sidelines, most of which probably don't even know who the famous one will be for that day. I run to the second floor to get my pass for the press booth (a neat balcony-like the ones at the opera for rich people, only without curtains and plush seats). I'm told by the security guard that I can't enter without a pass, to get my pass--??? I assure him that I'll have a pass to enter, once I enter and get my pass. My sincerity seems to convince him. I enter without my camera, because I'm not supposed to be "in there" so at least my camera should stay "out here". My camera is punished; I enter. My esteemed colleague (Megan, you rule) convinces the pass people that if we "the only Canadian youth journalists to cover Clinton's visit" are not allowed to have a press box, it might look really bad when we write our articles on what we didn't see at the Earth Summit + 5.

While we wait, I chat it up with a UN-NYC tour guide. She tells me the most serious threats to UN security in the past 2 years of her work there have been a "strange looking person" on one of her tours and a "guy jumping over ropes" (those thick velvety ropes that are held up by brass pedestals at banks and museums and kids like to swing on). She assures me security is tight. Every person entering the building must be registered and have a number. If anyone is seen to be confused or lost in the building, they are immediately questioned...I wonder why I was never questioned since I seemed to spend so much of my time in the UN confused and lost. HMMM... Five minutes and we've got a stellar view of Clinton speaking. My camera and I are reunited. From the booth I notice Clinton's security guards standing a few feet away during his speech and ponder what would happen if I took out my water gun? I take a picture instead.