[New York Times] Getting A Whiff Of The Conference

Maastricht, a small and peaceful town in the south of the Netherlands, has been overtaken by a strong odor. An old university building in the city center reeks of stale coffee and unwashed suits, causing unknowing passersby to wrinkle their noses. The source of the smell lies behind closed faculty doors: since Friday, hundreds of world leaders have flooded the city for a high-profile conference, and three days of intense debates and heavy decision-making have infused the committee rooms with a pungent smell.

A group of journalists has been sequestered in the building and is exclusively reporting their experience to The New York Times.

***

I am meeting Brooke Betten in front of the university’s large wooden entrance. She went outside for a much-needed smoke break. “I needed a breath of fresh air,” says the Al Jazeera journalist. Attending the conference for the third day in a row, she seems exhausted by the constant exposure to stuffy air. “The EUCO room is by far the worst,” she shares. “Every single time that I was in there, I felt like I was trapped inside of a fart. But the AU is also particularly stinky on this Sunday afternoon”.

During a press conference at the EUCO committee this morning, Betten had to resort to passing a note to a colleague, reading “they need to open the goddamn windows”, in order to make it through to the end.

Other journalists on-site are equally affected by the situation. “If the room is very smelly, it impedes our work as journalists,” Léa Besnard shares with the NYT. Besnard is reporting for Fox News, and has been attending various committee sessions. “It is not just about personal harm, it is a harm to our profession. Anyone who does not open a window in the room does not respect freedom of the press,” she complains.

As I enter the building, I get to form my own impression. The wide entrance hall smells fine, but when two committee members pass by, I catch a whiff of Axe body spray trying to conceal musty body-odor. Sarah Hourquet, head of the International Press Corps (IPC), meets me inside. “Tension is rising so much in the Historical Security Council that it will be very very smelly very soon. So be aware,” she warns. I do not dare to enter the room, but I trust her journalistic integrity. After saying goodbye, Hourquet sends me a private message. “AU IS SMELLY!”, it reads, and I make a note to avoid this room, too.

From the journalists’ experience, I deduce a direct correlation between intensity of discussion, caffeine consumption, and the smelliness-level of the committee room. When I approach Dominique Berendsen from Reuters about my suspicion, she responds affirmatively. “In rooms like BRICS+, the debate is quite heated, which makes it stuffy,” she tells me. “I feel like it’s the distress of the delegates. The room is very smelly, and especially the Brazilian delegate. In UNODC, on the other hand, the air is fresher than the conversation.”

To conclude my investigation, I am invited into the IPC’s press room, which has all windows yanked wide open. Jaap Steunenberg from CGTN and Claire Anderson from POLITICO agree to give me an interview. “The EUCO room reminds me of stale coffee and unfulfilled childhood dreams,” Steunenberg explains. Anderson also considers EUCO the smelliest, telling me how she had to leave the room just two minutes after entering, when she was supposed to report on an important committee session. I gather that the world leaders’ ignorance regarding air quality poses a real issue for press coverage of the conference, and that there is a serious need to invest into initiatives fighting for fresh air and scent neutralisation at such high-profile political events.

Anderson asks me to share a direct appeal to all delegates: “This isn’t a rewear-your-suits-every-single-day kinda situation. And please, open the windows,” she urges.

I am relieved when I finally exit the faculty doors. The group of journalists will have to keep reporting until tomorrow, but I hope that my article can make their job a little easier. Then, right before publication, I receive a final anonymous hint.

ECOSOC smells like a sock, it says.