By Zhang Li
　　
　　"Ding-dong." A crisp notification rang out as an email arrived from UNFICYP (the United Nations Peacekeeping Force in Cyprus). The message instructed me to set off early on June 25, 2025, and arrive the following day for a version of boot camp.
　　I instinctively glanced at the time—it was already June 23 in Beijing, where I was less than 48 hours from departure. In that moment, nervousness and anticipation surged through me. Two days later, carrying these complex emotions, I embarked on my first peacekeeping mission in Cyprus.
　　My first challenge upon arriving in Cyprus was passing the driving skills assessment—a critical hurdle, as failing meant the possibility of being sent straight back home. So, without even having time to recover from my jet lag, I jumped straight into intensive training.
　　Driving here is the opposite of China: right-hand-drive vehicles and driving on the left side of the road. All trainees had to adapt within five days and handle a United Nations manual-transmission pickup truck through multiple tests, including a closed-course exam and an on-road test. Thanks to steady nerves and a solid driving foundation, I passed all the assessments on my first attempt.
　　During the follow-up post-assignment assessment, the training officer told me that I had the top driving skills in my group, which blew away the interview panel. Largely because of this, I was assigned to Linou Police Station in Sector One. Of all the stations, it covers the largest area of the buffer zone, has the most challenging terrain, and demands the best driving skills.
　　Many foreign officers avoid this posting, but for me, it was the greatest recognition of my professional abilities. In the work that followed, I also took on the task of helping new officers at the station, guiding them in mountain-road driving and the proper operating procedures.
　　The area I was assigned to is in the mountainous region of Cyprus, where most patrol routes wind along steep, treacherous slopes. On one side, the mountainsides are prone to sudden rockfalls; on the other, sheer cliffs drop hundreds of meters. The patrol paths, paved with loose stones, are narrow and winding, allowing only one-way vehicle traffic. This made real-time radio communication and precise knowledge of road conditions essential for safety.
　　Along these mountain roads, I would occasionally see tombstones erected for fallen peacekeepers. These silent reminders kept many first-time patrolling officers on edge. A Montenegrin officer who had arrived slightly before me told me it took him a full three months to adapt to these roads. A colleague from Nepal, after patrolling with me, remarked, "This feels like a completely different Cyprus. I’m used to mountain roads in Nepal, but this is far more dangerous and demanding for a driver."
　　For this reason, I could never afford the slightest lapse in focus. Yet even so, reality was full of constant challenges—and sometimes danger.
　　I had just finished a patrol and returned to the station. Before I even had a chance to rest, new orders came in: four modified 4x4 off-road vehicles had been spotted in a neighboring district, moving toward the Linou area at extremely high speed. I was instructed to head out immediately to monitor and handle the situation.
　　I quickly gathered my gear and set off. Along the way, I reported my position over the radio while tracking the vehicles’ directions in our work group chat. The information showed that these vehicles were speeding through the buffer zone, and when passing through neighboring districts, they had deliberately driven close to UN patrols, splashing them with mud in an obvious act of provocation.
　　I drove on while mentally rehearsing possible responses: if we encountered them head-on, how could I maintain a safe distance? If their behavior escalated, how could I control the situation and call for backup? Safety was always the top priority.
　　By the time I reached the designated location, the vehicles had already taken a side road out of the buffer zone. I immediately reported to my superiors and continued monitoring the area, updating their movements in real time.
　　Later, after verifying with the South Cyprus police, we discovered that one of the four occupants was a murder suspect wanted by the local authorities. The verification sent my colleagues into a shocked and creepy silence.
　　In mid-November 2025, a 5.4-magnitude earthquake struck Cyprus, with tremors felt across the island. Since my district is in the mountainous region, the earthquake, followed by several days of continuous rain, made the patrol routes even more hazardous.
　　At the time, I was temporarily serving as team leader. I immediately contacted the military outposts along the mountain routes and the sector headquarters liaison officers to assess route safety. I reported the status of personnel at the station and the patrol areas to my superiors, issued emergency instructions, and canceled certain patrols to ensure the safety of United Nations personnel, vehicles, and supplies.
　　UN peacekeeping officers come from all over the world, so I have built my own approach to maintaining effective communication and good working relationships on the job.
　　In my work kit, I usually keep sticky notes, pens, wet wipes, adhesive patches, band-aids, iodine swabs, painkillers, medicated oil, candies, snacks, small bottles of water, glue, tape, a power bank, a phone stand, and other everyday essentials and emergency supplies. At first, this was just to be prepared, but it had an unexpectedly positive effect.
　　Whenever colleagues urgently needed something, their first instinct was usually: "Find Li, she’ll have it." Over time, I became even more reliable than the station’s supply room. Naturally, a nickname followed: "Doraemon Li." One of my Italian colleagues said I reminded her of a wizard from a movie she had seen, someone who always had everything in her bag, so she started calling me "Wizard Li."
　　Once, a colleague who was patrolling a side route heard over the radio that I would be passing nearby and called me: "Li, I need your help." It turned out that a driver in the convoy had twisted his ankle and was in too much pain to drive. She had called me on a whim, thinking I might have something to help. After all, in everyone’s mind, my bag always seemed to contain whatever they might need.
　　Of course, I didn’t disappoint her. The moment I pulled out an adhesive patch, she exclaimed, "See? Li’s bag really does have everything, even things you’d never dream of.!" It seemed they had been jokingly betting on whether I could help. I smiled at the driver and said, "This is a medicinal patch from China; it works quickly for pain." About five minutes later, he lifted his head and said his ankle felt warm and the pain had eased enough to drive home.
　　A week later, when we met again, he said, "Li, my ankle’s much better. The Chinese medicinal patch really is amazing."
　　Moments like these genuinely made me happy. It’s really rewarding to serve in a peacekeeping mission while also getting to showcase Chinese culture. Perhaps it was these small gestures, combined with solid professional skills and a willingness to help others, that gradually earned me my colleagues’ respect. One of them once said to me, "Li, because of you, our police station feels like one big family." I replied, "It’s not because of me, it’s because everyone here is so wonderful."
　　Every moment, everywhere, my heart is touched. Most impressive was a UN peacekeeping representative from Argentina who presented me with a joint commendation. At our farewell, the representative was on the verge of tears.
　　"My friend Li, I just want to sincerely thank you for always being so kind, warm, and professional. As an Argentinian, I really appreciate the respect and enthusiasm you’ve shown me. You’ve shown that cultural differences aren’t barriers, they’re bridges that connect us. This is my last week here, and I’ll soon be heading back to Argentina. I’ll take with me the wonderful memories of working with you and the precious memories of your caring nature. Thank you again for leaving such a lasting impression on our time together."
　　In my daily interactions, I tried to seize every opportunity to introduce the real China to international colleagues and local friends. I used online video platforms to share stories about China’s technological developments and the application of technology in policing, giving them a clear view of our achievements in social governance. At this year’s Spring Festival Gala, the robot dance won praise from colleagues from many countries.
　　Many of them said that through these firsthand experiences, they gained a better understanding of an open and friendly China. At the same time, I noticed they started taking the initiative to learn more. Some watched travel videos about China made by foreign bloggers, competed to see who could learn the most Chinese, practiced the Chinese song "Glorious Years", tried their hand at Chinese cooking, and even explored traditional tea culture. Some even started watching Chinese costume dramas. Some of these dramas are so intricate that I wasn’t sure they really understood them. But seeing them try to discuss the plots and greet me in Chinese warmed my heart immensely.
　　In that moment, I felt even more deeply the charm of my homeland, the excellence of Chinese culture, and the pride of being Chinese.
　　With four months left before the end of this mission, I sometimes find myself thinking again about a simple question: Why did you choose to serve in peacekeeping? Brief as the question is, the answer is of enormous weight.
　　During the selection interview, an interviewer asked me the same question: "Why do you want to join peacekeeping?" I still remember my answer: "For peace." I often browsed the UN website and learned that peacekeeping could make a real contribution to world peace. In the past, I had regularly donated to UNICEF. Now that I had the opportunity to contribute in person, I felt it was a responsibility I could not turn away from.
　　Later, a Chinese resident in the mission area asked me the same question: "Why peacekeeping? Is it really necessary here?" I found it difficult to explain that peace is hard-won yet can easily be lost. So I simply asked her in return, "What if there were no UN peacekeepers here?" She fell into a long silence. After all, the value of some things is often understood only when they are gone.
　　Colleagues back home put it more bluntly: "You’re a single mother; why go on a peacekeeping mission? What about your child?" My answer was simple: "I’m lucky to have my parents help take care of him, so I can serve without that worry." But deep down, I’m aware that motherly love may manifest as companionship, but it is by no means the sole form.
　　I want to share a different story with my child—one about what a mother is striving for, far away from home.
　　And it proved to be the right choice. When I returned home on leave last year, I saw the certificates and report cards he had brought back from school. He had become more independent and more confident. In that moment, I felt a deeper sense of fulfillment than any accolade could ever bring.■
　　
　　（Translated by Wei Dong）