Meet Merete Engell, is a seasoned Danish traveller with extensive experience in humanitarian work through her longstanding tenure at the international organization Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF), also known as Doctors Without Borders. As a trained nurse, she has received the prestigious Florence Nightingale medal for her contributions to nursing within MSF, where she served in various conflict zones and volatile regions worldwide. Currently, Merete holds the position of head of learning and development at MSF in Copenhagen, Denmark. A proud member of the LGBT community, she passionately explores the world, often embarking on solo adventures with her daughter.
You can also watch this interview in video form on our NomadMania YouTube channel. This interview was conducted by NomadMania Executive Committee member Yui Pow Redford.
Tell us about your early life. Can you tell us a bit about your early years and how your interest in travel developed? Do you recall your first international trip?
I grew up in the Copenhagen area. My mother was originally from Finland, which sparked early trips to Finland and Sweden. However, my first venture beyond Scandinavia was at 14 when I joined a youth club hiking trip to Switzerland. Seeing mountains for the first time ignited a curiosity in me that I couldn’t ignore. Later, at 16, I hopped over to London to catch a musical, followed by Ibiza for a party at 17. These experiences fed my appetite for exploration, and I realized travel was my calling. It became a way for me to break free from societal expectations and explore the world on my terms.
Your career with MSF has taken you to various conflict zones and challenging environments. Can you share some insights into your experiences working in these places and how they influenced your perspective?
My journey into humanitarian work was sparked during my time in Israel, where I worked in a nursing home in a kibbutz. There, I cared for Holocaust survivors, which profoundly impacted me and ignited a passion for humanitarianism. This led me to pursue nursing and eventually join MSF.
My first assignment with MSF took me to Ethiopia, and from there, I worked in Afghanistan, Liberia, Darfur, Congo, Niger, Haiti, Libya, and Iraq, among other places. Initially, the allure was the adventure, but soon, the desire to help others became central.
However, my early experiences were characterized by naivety. Over time, I delved deeper into the complexities of each situation, grappling with questions about healthcare access, political dynamics, and gender inequality. Working in conflict zones was both humbling and overwhelming.
I formed close bonds with the people I served, yet felt the weight of their suffering and the enormity of the challenges we faced. Despite the danger and adversity, every small act of assistance felt significant.
Adapting to the unfamiliarity of each environment was a constant learning curve. Even mundane tasks like enjoying a morning coffee posed challenges. Returning home, I often found myself marvelling at the simple comforts of everyday life, like switching on a light or flushing a toilet.
In essence, working on the ground in conflict zones is a journey of perpetual adaptation and learning, where every experience shapes your understanding of humanity and the world.
Did you find more of a connection with certain countries, or were they all unique and memorable in their own way? And how do you feel about how the media portrays life in these places?
Having been through my fair share of media interviews amid various disasters, I’ve come to realise just how skewed the narrative can be. They tend to focus on the most dramatic aspects, positioning themselves amidst the rubble and chaos. While they occasionally sprinkle in human interest stories, it’s usually the most sensationalised bits that make the headlines.
It’s my sincere hope that more people would take the time to look beyond these televised snapshots of crisis zones. There’s a whole world out there waiting to be explored and understood, beyond the sensational headlines. Travelling with my MSF colleagues to places like Gaza or Ukraine, I’ve encountered this pervasive perception of danger. While conflict zones do pose risks, it’s vital to acknowledge that life persists amidst adversity.
What often gets overlooked is that within these regions, everyday people continue to lead their lives amidst the turmoil. Families strive to maintain a sense of normalcy, children go to school, and communities band together to support one another. Yet, these everyday narratives rarely make it to the newsreels, overshadowed by the spectre of violence and tragedy.
Having lived through such experiences, I’ve come to appreciate the stark contrast between media portrayals and reality. The disconnect is palpable, and it’s a sentiment echoed by many who’ve ventured beyond the confines of sensationalism. When events in distant lands dominate headlines, it’s easy to forget the vastness of the world and the humanity that binds us all.
As someone who calls Denmark home, I’ve noticed how global incidents can shrink one’s perceived reality. A bomb explosion hundreds of kilometres away suddenly transforms the entire country into a tiny island in the minds of distant friends and relatives. It’s a reminder of the interconnectedness of our world and the importance of reaching out to loved ones during times of uncertainty.
If you ever hear of something happening in a far-off place, remember to check in with those who reside there. Because in times of crisis, the world may seem vast and daunting, but a simple call can bridge the distance and offer solace to those affected.
