Water Quality Manager at Veolia Franciliane, Julie Schmitt left to train Médecins Sans Frontières staff in Pakistan. Why did she do this? She is a Veoliaforce volunteer from the Veolia Foundation, in parallel with her position at the Méry-sur-Oise plant. Here's how.
You've just returned from Islamabad, where you spent a week with humanitarian workers. What's it all about?
Julie Schmitt: With the agreement of my superiors, I signed up as a Veoliaforce volunteer with the Veolia Foundation. This means that I can be asked to work on a Foundation project during my working hours at Franciliane. So I have to combine my day-to-day work at the Méry plant with any parallel assignments. The idea is to be useful for the Foundation's humanitarian partners without disrupting the rhythm of the Franciliane teams.
What did you do in Pakistan?
JS : Two years ago, the Veolia Foundation intervened with Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF) to provide emergency drinking water after catastrophic floods that had compromised access to water in several districts. Several Aquaforces, the mobile water purification units designed by the Fondation pour l'humanitaire, had been deployed and were then stored at Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF) on site for other needs. With my partner Frédéric Gogien, who had already left in 2022, our mission was to train MSF's Pakistani staff in the use of these Aquaforces.
Had you already done any training in your professional career?
JS: Being a trainer was something new for me. As much as I'd supervised apprentices and helped trainees grow, leading a group and energizing a group was a new experience for me. I had to adapt the level of learning to get everyone on board, and find the right tone, neither too cold nor too close or intrusive. But during the practical part, everyone was very diligent and motivated, and it was a real pleasure to train them, as well as sharing several funny moments. We succeeded in establishing a real climate of trust, which enabled them to ask us all their questions.
How many people did you train?
JS: There were 11 learners in the group, all men. At first, I was feeling my way around a bit, especially as a woman. I was afraid of doing something inappropriate in spite of myself. In fact, I wore the veil without knowing that I didn't have to, but I thought it was a sign of respect for their customs. But it was more a matter for me than for the group: Frédéric and I were perceived as the holders of a skill, which we passed on, rather than as a man and a woman.
Culturally, it was a mission quite far removed from your everyday life...
JS: Yes, of course. I arrived with my eyes wide open in Islamabad, a city where precarious dwellings made from three pieces of wood coexist with Western-style comforts. The contrasts are all the more striking when you consider that you are sometimes far removed from local customs. When you order a dish at the restaurant around the corner and the chicken is slaughtered in front of you, you shudder, but then you realize that the meat is... fresh. And their food is so good, you forget how it was prepared!
How did the training go?
JS: The mission was postponed twice, first because of visa problems, then because of security issues. So I had plenty of time to prepare. We thought we'd have plenty of time to teach the courses and then... there are the vagaries of the field. On the first day, everyone arrived two hours late. The next day, we had to wait for oil for a few hours. And then there's the obligatory break for Tchaï (a black tea sweetened with milk), a morning and afternoon ritual with which they don't mess around! In short, we adapt! At the end of the week's training, everyone had what they needed to deploy Aquaforce, and we had identified leaders who will no doubt in turn be able to train others. This is undoubtedly the most gratifying aspect of the job: in addition to imparting knowledge and skills, training also lights a flame that will be passed on.