Drinking from the Saucer: A Memoir

Charlene C. Duline

	Format	ISBN	Price
	Paperback (6x9)	9781434381040	$ 11.00

Drinking From the Saucer" is the memoir of an African-American woman who was among the first from Indiana to be accepted into the Peace Corps in 1962, and also was the first black woman seen by the Quechua Indians in Cuzco, Peru. After Peace Corps service she joined the United Nations as an International Secretary and served in New York City and Dacca, East Pakistan. With that background she became a Foreign Service Officer, i.e., diplomat, and continued serving her country, usually working in remote countries suffering from corruption, lack of infrastructure, rampant diseases, poor medical care, and often ruled by dictators.

Her position with the U.S. Information Agency included managing cultural centers, libraries, and educational and cultural exchanges. public affairs advisor to ambassadors, and principal speech writer.

Charlene C. Duline rose from an impoverished childhood in Indianapolis, Indiana to become the first African-American woman from Indiana to enter the Peace Corps. She trained in the rain forest in Puerto Rico in 1962, physical training that forced participants to reach deep inside themselves for endurance. Her Peace Corps experience, along with her United Nations experience led to a career as a diplomat.

She is a graduate of Indiana University and Johns Hopkins University's School of Advanced International Studies. She is an avid animal lover and a volunteer at the Indianapolis Zoo. Her other volunteer Since retiring she has taken on volunteer work as an instructor of creative writing at the Indiana Women’s Prison; established and headed a prison ministry at her church; a Child Advocate; a hospital and church Eucharistic Minister; Bereavement Minister, a mentor, and is active in other activities.

She is currently working on another book, "Warrior Princess," written in the voice of her miniature poodle daughter, Ebony, who crossed the rainbow bridge a few months ago leaving a deep hole in her mommy’s heart.

A Dangerous Welcome

As our caravan of three embassy cars rolled through the dark, empty streets of downtown Monrovia, I wondered if this would be the last night of my life.

Liberia was under martial law and a curfew had been declared by Head of State Doe. No one was allowed on the city streets from midnight to 6:00 a.m., and here was our small caravan of cars moving through downtown Monrovia shortly before five o’clock in the morning.

Two weeks earlier the Chargé d’Aff airs Edward J. Perkins, had announced the arrival of our new ambassador, William Lacy Swing, and said all senior officers would greet him at Liberia’s Robertsfield International Airport. As the Acting Public Affairs Officer for the U.S. Information Agency I was to be in the welcoming party.

Against my will and better judgment, I now found myself in the second car of the small caravan praying that I would not only meet the ambassador but that I would live long enough to see the next African dawn.