NationStates Jolt Archive

Knootoss, Knootcap

Jeffrey Lee Malcolm smiled happily as the doors of the train opened. He walked out under the steel half-domed roof of the Amsterdam train station. Before him, the wall was glass, and he could see the ships move through the harbor – dark-green freighters and virgin white passenger liners. The glass barred the sounds, and it was as if the ships moved on the greyish water silently, only the rare siren breaking hrough the barrier. It was beautiful.

He turned, and walked down into the underground passage that would take him under the rails, up, and out of the railway station. The glass doors swung open, and the Allanean diplomat walked out into Amsterdam – for the first time after years of political disconnection.

A casual observer would have probably failed to identify Malcolm as an Allanean – he spoke English with an accent not unlike that of a pure-blooded Midlonian, he wore a suit made by a Reichsburgian tailor, and he carried Rejistanian papers. The only thing denoting that he came from a nation that hated dresscodes was an obscenely yellow tie.

Jeffrey was still beaming as he walked out into the small square in front of the train station. The sea air was pristinely clean, the buildings – real eighteenth-century, unlike the tasteless imitations back home, and the people rather friendly – and of course there was none of Allanea’s biggest curse – no music! (Allanea may be a great society – but it’s also a loud one. )

He began to walk swiftly across the square – still marvelling at it all. One of the reasons Jeffrey Lee Malcolm was considered a good diplomat was that he has seeped in the culture of the refined countries where he was raised – though it meant he considered his home rather crude and barbaric. His visits abroad inspired in him a true and real pleasure.

Speaking of it, he had three hours until his meeting with the Knootian representative – scheduled to occur in a Menelmacari restaurant on the outskirts of the Old City. In the meanwhile, he had to find something fun to do. And he had just the idea…

Fifteen minutes later

“Right now, we are passing into one of the city’s most famous canals. It is only the beginning of Amsterdam’s extensive canal network…” As the elongated tour boat moved quietly and swiftly under the bridge, Jeffrey brought his camera to bear on it and pushed a button.

Click.

David Davinci (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/David_Davinci) strolled into the Menelmacari restaurant in Amsterdam with the calm air of someone who is coming to meet an old friend on a lazy Saturday afternoon. His eyes were shining brightly as one of the waiters directed him to the table of Jeffrey Lee Malcolm.

He quietly mused to himself that this meeting might prove to be most interesting. True, this was all very unofficial , and true, he had an entire department devoted to low-key diplomatic events, and true… his agenda was piling up on his desk (he had verified this himself when he had visited his office last week) but this did not really matter. The helicopter trip to Amsterdam had been most diverting, and meeting an Allanean would surely be great fun. After all, they were a very amusing – if somewhat insane - people.

Malcolm looked up from his menu and at the Knootian official who approached him. He had researched the information the Allaneans had on Davinci – which was not much, considering the small amount of effort that his homeland dedicated to diplomacy as such. But what he knew would already be enough for him to admire the Knootian.

“Good day, Sir.” – he smiled. “What would you eat?” He has already chosen his own order, and was now only waiting for Davinci to make his own. He has decided that he would have food fitting to the occasion – simply black coffee and something simple made of the local fish. After all, he was the guest here.

As the Knootian looked at the menu, Malcolm relaxed in his chair – but only physically. His mind was working feverishly, trying to analyse the facial expression of the foreigner - and to figure out whether he would have to return to Allanea, or indeed be lucky enough to live in this city for the next few years and get paid doing it.

Davinci was of course perfectly inscrutable.

Davinci patiently ordered some sort of elvish dish, smiling paternalistically at the waiter as he did so. After that he turned his attention to the Allanean, observing hem with a detached sort of curiosity, and looking at him as if he were waiting for something to happen. Judging by his eyes, it was probably something very amusing.

"… so Mr. Malcolm", he said, "I have always wondered if it were true that nudist boyscouts form the elite core of your military, if you can forgive me my curiosity. It always seemed to me a very odd and unsubstantiated sort of rumour, but then there have been odder things in this world."

His lips formed an amused sort of smile as the ambassador answered.

Malcolm followed up with his own order, his own smile polite and friendly - a cup of coffee and some herring dish. Then, he turned towards the Knootian, looking at him with the kind of happy look children get when explaining to an adult the nature of their games. He began to speak, his voice carrying a tinge of a laugh in it, somehow:

“Well, Mr. Davinci, yes and no. The Boy Scout organisations are not any form of elite unit – more of a weapon of last resort, you might say. However, our military does include all sorts of informalists, often organised on a unit basis to increase cohesion – there’s a Furry Airborne Brigade, a Trekkie Infantry Brigade, and every other sort of thing. I am virtually certain – although I never inquired into the matter – that somewhere out there there is a Nudist Airborne, or a Fully-Naked Engineers unit. Certainly it is true that the current Commander of the Navy prefers that form of… fashion, if you will.

“Speaking of military customs, is it true your troops ride bicycles into combat?”

"Why yes, yes, I believe they do", Davinci replied amused. "Bikes are good exercise, and they do not expend much fuel while still making our troops go faster than walking infantry", he said with a smile, "although I readily admit that I do not know much of military matters."

He was already congratulating himself on the idea of handling this matter personally as the food arrived. For Davinci there was some cold green substance or the other, while the fish dish ordered by the Allanean ambassador looked fresh and crispy.

"Smakelijk eten", Davinci told the Allanean as he grabbed his fork and knife.

The Allanean blinked at the reply. Although he did not possess an Allanean education beyond the junior high schol level, he was quite aware of the disadvantages of the bicycle as a military vehicle. On the other hand, he felt that he had no place of calling anything the Knootian did weird – and not just because doing so would be in violation of his native customs.

So he decided to turn his attention to the fish. It was excellent of course, as he had expected it to be. As he ate, he looked out at the street outside curiously – perhaps in the same way as Peter the Great had as he ate in this city centuries ago. He waited for an opportune moment – basically, one wherein the older man’s attention would be diverted from his food – and asked:

“Would I be correct to assume you’re not following events in my homeland, Mr. Davinci?”

"Hmm?", the Knootian looked up, "not really no, I'm afraid" Davinci admitted. "Although I did see a rather interesting report, which mentioned a copyright violation by some Allanean business. A... gas, if you will, which was used in your capital? I was quite surprised to learn that it had found its way to Allanea. The openness of the World Market has progressed further than I thought it had."

Davinci frowned a little, not too personally concerned by the whole affair, "the fact of the matter is that your homeland has been quite irrelevant for any Knootian interest for a long time, Mr. Malcolm. Your people have shown themselves to be hostile to Knootian interests and that sort of peace which is required for fruitful commerce; your nation has been destroyed time and again by the mayor powers of this world; your culture – if one can call it that – is amusing at best and destabilising at worst, and your withdrawal from the Treaty of the Wolf has assured that my government cannot recognise your legal existence."

He paused, frowning for a moment before inclining his head slightly in a polite gesture.

"No offence intended, of course."

“Indeed, Mr. Davinci. The terrorists who did it may have overdone the dosage of the substance – I believe the doctors in the capital have not done treating all the vicitms. And yes. You may be surprised, but I in fact agree with everything you say. The Confederate foreign policy so far was about as successful as a trainwreck. Not only that, but I would argue that Allanea’s internal policies have in many aspects have been as successful.”

He sipped on his coffee.

“Allanea is one of the freest nations in the world – I don’t think there’s grounds to dispute that. However, no amount of personal freedom will help or save a nation when it’s people lack culture, self-discipline, and decorum. When a nation’s politicians begin to think that appearing nude in public will boost their political ratings, something is very, very wrong.”

He put the half-empty cup of coffee down and looked at the Knootian.

“Mr. Davinci, I do not come here to implore you for political alliance. I wouldn’t be able to market that to the boys back home in ten years’ time. I come not to ask you for some trade deal – I know that your trade policies are already extremely progressive. I come to ask you for help, Mr. Davinci.”

“I don’t seek to appeal to you on the iffy grounds political alliances are made on – half-threat, half-flattery, half-bribe. I appeal to you on the grounds of your humanity – and of your understanding of the laws of the Market. You know, like none else, that the more successful, contributing members there are in the world community - the better off we all are.

And that’s what I ask you to do, Mr. Davinci. Help me make Allanea such a member of the world community – and help Knootoss’ business make a killing doing it.”

As the Allanean continued, Davinci raised one eyebrow, and then the other in surprise. With an unexpected confession, this lunch was becoming very exiting indeed. He smiled magnamously, again almost paternalistically, at the Allanean.

"Well, what exactly is it you are asking for?", he asked inquiringly. "The idea of a world community is nice and all, but you are not asking for anything specific."

http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=450387

The Allanean smiled: “The key to a world community is education. The Allanean system is good at imparting skills – History, economics, marksmanship, even medicine and engineering. However, it fails abjectly to impart what would be considered in the other countries as the basics of socialization skills. You see me here in a suit and a tie, but most of my countrymen wouldn’t have gotten as far as comprehending why this would be even needed.”

“Knootoss, conversely, is famous for its diplomats and businessmen. Your successes in that area are spoken of at the dinner parties of Reichsburg and at the Colsack Nebula – and even people who do not hear of you buy your products. They serve PBC at Sol One, you know.”

He paused for a second, returning his attention to the fish.

“And so, Mr. Davinci, this is where you come in. Some of us – particularly those at the Department of State – understand those things. What would be desirable would be an opening of the doors of Knootoss educational establishments – private schools, universities, and so forth – to Allanean students. Something like a student visa program.”

“I know that Knootoss officially does not recognise Allanea as a political body – but perhaps this could somehow be circumvented… for example, we could set up a ‘private business’ that would defacto serve as our embassy here. But I trust that you already get my general drift on this.”

Davinci smiled. He was a man who was easily flattered by the thought of being talked about at parties and at dinner tables, and mentioning Pink Bunny Cola in this introduced an element of personal pride which showed itself into a beaming grin. When the Allanean began to talk about education and embassies, however, he appeared much more serious.

“Well, I do not think that there will be any problem with our universities accepting Allanean private students in this way”, he mused, “I suppose that the way of going about the introduction of student visa is merely a practical consideration – after all our education system is open to paying foreign customers. If Reichsburg okays this plan of yours I can take it up with our Minister of Education. She wouldn’t object if the F.E.R. lobby is behind it, I’m sure.”

Davinci looked down at his plate, looking slightly bored having to worry about practical details, and disappointed that he had already nearly finished his dish.

“I wonder about the impact of such a programme though,” he mused. “The formative stages of a human being are at a much younger age, especially if you are talking about manipulating cultural values through socialisation. In our country we start pre-school education at the age of three, and if the State Department wishes to see foreign education having a severe impact on the youth it would have to introduce Allaneans to Knootian education before puberty at the very least. We are talking a long-term project to introduce socialization skills here, I take it, and this will require the subjects to actually socialise into the alien system. If you send Allaneans over here at twenty-tree they will do nothing but getting in gunfights and wearing hideously discoloured ties.” An amused grin played over the face of the State-Secretary as he took a sip from his own drink. “I realise of course that what I am proposing is a bit more drastic, or thorough if you wish.”

The Allanean nodded to Davinci. “Most certainly. You must of course understand I cannot force any children here by force – not from a nation without compulsory school attendance laws, of course. Also, many parents are worried about the preservation of whatever good things there are in Allanean culture – after all, those children do need to come back home at some point, you understand. But that is a matter for opinion polls and market surveys. As for myself, my nephew will get here as soon as he turns sixteen – I am sure I will find a good school here for him. Something with a focus on classical education. Latin, Greek, Quenya, that sort of thing.”

He looked at his own plate, picked up his herring and ripped it up with near-native skill, then ate it in a single gulp. Now, to return to the main, and more salient points of the discussion.

“And of course, there’s the question if this is a ‘programme’ at all. In this case, my Government is merely responding to a situation, if you will. There are many… important campaign donors back home who would be very interested if their chidlren could study abroad. And given that currently the Graham Administration is in rather difficult waters in terms of its popularity, every little drop of campaign money matters – thus, they became much more amenable to the ideas of people like me.”

He sipped at his coffee, and then continued.

“You must understand that many of the people of the Confederacy – especially those with an actual education of any form, or those with a good salary – are tired of the antics of this administration and the previous one. The lack of decorum in our legislatures, the naked admirals and the diplomats who make the Aumanii look like the pinnacle of politeness and class is seen by many – not enough, unfortunately – as counter-productive. And this is why I am here. I am ready to discuss any additional programs, too – guest worker programs for Knootian tutors, affiliate programs with your universities, anytihng like that. But my main point is this: please let our children reach for the founts of your culture - for the desert is dry and we don't have all that much water of our own.”

At that last remark, Davinci burst out laughing.

"Why I ever…", he started. "you are a very funny man, Mr. Malcolm. But really, there is no need to be so obsequious. I know it when people are trying to flatter me, you know", Davinci said with an amused grin.

"Your people can do what they want, of course. It would be ineffective to transplant children only when the hormones have begun to do their nasty work already, but at least it is something." He stroked his chin thoughtfully. "As for guest worker programs - you can always try to lure Knootian lecturers to your country, but I sincerely doubt that many of our more accomplished academics will want to seek a position there. The anti-intellectual climate, the rural demographics, and of course the.. ah, the very problems you are trying to solve. Unless you have significant funds to bribe them into coming, of course…"

The Allanean chuckled: "Anti-Intellectual climate? Heh. That's a new one to me. And the culture is not rural. It's suburban. A very small difference, I'd wager, but a difference nonetheless... now, as to the formalities, what would the deal look like? I would also wish to establish a certain form of 'representation' here - under the auspices of private enterprise of course, I realize the problems you have with my government..."

OOC: Posting from college, sorry about the shortness.

"Oh, I'd have to take up all these issues in the cabinet for open discussion", Davinci said almost bored. "I'd really not like to present a done deal. Vologdov would be furious", he grinned as if he had just seen something terribly funny, "and although there certainly is an amusing quality to seeing her wrath, I'm not in the business of needlessly angering people." He smile turned a little thinner. "After all, we're just two people having lunch."

"You know what Mr. Malcolm, I'll take the issue up for you in cabinet meeting next Friday. If my colleagues agree I'll get back to you on this issue."

"Thank you very much, sir." - smiled the Allanean - "You have no idea how extremely pleased I am - and I am sure my nephew will be, as well." -at this, he moved his head ever so slightly in a courteous half-bow, then returned to his lunch.

When it was all over and the Allanean left the restaurant, he left a small box on the table for the Knootian. If Da Vinci ever opened the box, he would find a metal cigarette lighter made by Allanean Arms - one in a gold sheathing, inlaid with a variety of precious stones, the Allanean Arms logo a diamond and ruby inlay.

OOC: Please contact me via telegram or otherwise before continuing this - this is not I would hope the end of this thread.

OOC: It is appropriate, I think, for this post to be accompanied by a link to information about the Knootian Education System (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Knootoss#Education)

This article posted on page 7 of De Volkskrant, a left-wing Knootian newspaper:


Cabinet: let Allaneans study in Knootoss

THE HAGUE – in its Friday weekly meeting, the cabinet agreed to allow for a bill to be submitted to the Staten-Generaal allowing universities to set up twinning programmes with Allanean institutions and facilitating the large-scale enrolment of Allanean students into Knootian Educational Institutions on a private basis.

The government emphasised that this does not entail recognition of the Confederate States of Allanea, which has illegally separated itself from the Treaty of the Wolf and is not recognised as a legal entity by the government. “This bill is about Citizens, not States”, Green education minister Dr. Mientje Hoogland told De Volkskrant in a clarification of the decision. “The bill aims to allow young Allaneans to come here and learn from us. It is entirely consistent with the government policy to spread Knootian values. Knootian values do not stop at borders.” She was more ambivalent about a guest worker programs for Knootian tutors to teach in Allanea, as that would entail an agreement with the Allanean government.

In a response, the Liberal Teachers Union and the Union of Knootian Teachers also opposed a guest worker programme, citing fears for a brain drain while also casting doubt on the willingness of Knootian teachers to go to Allanea voluntarily. They did however come out in support of allowing Allanean students to enrol into higher educational institutions on a private basis. “Allowing foreign student private enrolment is a great way to widen the financial base of the system”, an LTU spokesman said, “Especially considering that Allaneans will be paying the full fee.”

The bill may still face some opposition in the Staten-Generaal. The Conservative opposition party RCPK has already come out against the proposal, and some SLP and Green MPs are still ambivalent about the proposal, demanding concessions from the Allanean government with regards to the Treaty of the Wolf first. “The Allanean government should recognise that withdrawing from the treaty was an illegal act”, Liberal MP Pim Geluk said, “Allanean problems will not be solved by some Philosophy courses at the University of Leiden. It will require a profound change of mentality.”

And it soon became known in Allanea – through the semi-official announcement on the Department of Foreign Affairs website, through Internet postings, through rumours – that ‘sending yar kids to ‘note-oss is gonna be easier now.’ And that was beginning to be done – slowly, but surely – by compant executives, by journalists and professors.

On the top floor of a rented 16th century Amsterdam building, the Allanean ambassador – well, the CEO of ‘Jeremy Travel, Inc.’ – sat smiling happily, sipping on Columbian coffee and talking to his nephew.

‘Take off that T-shirt. Grab yourself a normal shirt. With buttons and such. Gods, not that one. A sensible color. White is good. And a black tie. Black. Not striped with grey dancing elephants. Black.. This is Knootoss here, not Moosef*ck, Midna Ceti. Dig it?’

Port Allanea International Airport.

‘But Mom! I don’t want to go there!’ – the fourteen year old child was nearly in tears. Leaving everything you know is hard… even if you are going with half your class. As Shirley lived in a rich neighborhood, that happened to be the case.

‘Just. Shut. Up. And get on the plane. I’m tired of arguing this with you, really.’

Professor Jorgensen heard about the program from his colleague who was sending his son to Knootoss - and he jumped on the opportunity. Of course, his daughter was nearly succeeding in persuading him to let her stay.

Nearly.

George Washington Memorial High School Board Meeting, Western Virginia

‘You think we can fund it?’

‘Well, we have gotten ourself a sizeable donation fund last year. We can hire a Knootian tutor to teach them Dutch and good manners… it’d certainly help their upbringing some.’

The school board voted in favor of sending the invitation, 5-2.

((OOC: Allanea, please contact me re: this thread.
This is also a poorly hidden tag now that I can login with Knootoss again.))