Category Archives: Text

Theres a New Correspondent in Town

I wanted to bring over some spillover from a discussion over at Radio Open Source about the “Death of the Foreign Correspondent”. For anyone not familiar with the term, the Foreign Correspondent would be that person who appears either in print, audio or video reporting from some far away place telling us – the audience at home – what is happening there and why.

I haven’t listened to the show yet, by the initial post is about how more and more media outlets are closing down their foreign bureaus. This is, above all, to save on costs, but according to some.. it is also because there is a lack of interest for news from certain parts of the world. So they’re getting rid of the position or they’re merging with the foreign desk of another media company.

The post and the podcast ask the question, what are we losing as media consumers who want to know what is happening in the world around us… including in far away countries. Some of the comments bring up the point that we are losing alot, in terms of expertese and information, that the correspondents had long provided in ways few others could.

In certain cases I think this is a valid point, as historically there are great individuals who have played that role in media from far off places.

However I would say this is a great occasion for the rise of blogs, podcasts, and vlogs. This is the moment where we can and we will – fill in. Because, first — there will be a void, a void of information and understanding, and where else will people turn than the internet for information about places that their old media outlet isn’t giving them. second – because we are here and we want the world to understand what is happening where we are. By we I mean anyone anywhere. You sitting in Brazil are certainly a potential foreign correspondant to someone in the Netherlands. You there in New York City are a fine candidate for correspondent to someone in New Delhi.

Sure they will argue that you aren’t trained properly or that you aren’t reporting on the right issues.. but in the end.. that is up to the user to decide… the consumer.. the viewer/listener/reader. And furthermore, as someone who did extensive university level training in journalism, I- for one- saw that -in fact- this is no elite group of geniuses, plenty of people are capable of acquiring the necessary equipment, knowledge, and will..to start broadcasting their experience or the experience of something taking place right now, somewhere in the world.

These are the new foreign correspondents… and the best part.. is that they have the capacity to be better informed and more genuine than any sweet talking, khaki vest wearing, veteran news correspondent from super-giant-network news.

Real Coverage of the Peace Movement

Watching the movie Bobby got me thinking about the mass support the peace movement had during the vietnam era. Those images from the demonstrations, the marches, the leaders… I start to wonder how what is happening today across the United States might look similar.

Then my dear roomate mentioned how difficult she found it to locate any good reports about the mass demonstrations against the way that took place last week all across the US. She pointed to television and other big media who seemingly swept the story under the rug.

Myself I experienced the demonstration through what is quickly becoming the best way to see the world and events unfolding: video blogs.

Therefore on this beautiful weekend of trying to get my Amsterdam life in order, I give you a few links to excellent videos of the demonstrations in places like Los Angeles, Minneapolis, and Washington DC.

Full credit and compliments to those excellent citizen reporters, especially as I’m too far away to properly participate in such beautiful actions.

Farewell Molly

While it is always comforting to get back to Amsterdam and what I like to call, normal life, I arrived to some bad news yesterday.

Bad news for journalism. Bad news for the United States. And therefore.. at some level.. bad news for the entire world of journalism.

First, the news that Josh Wolf, a videoblogging comrade and journalist, his requests for appeal have been rejected.. and it seems he will be in jail for even longer.

And then…. Molly Ivins,

One of the great writers and freedom fighters of our time passed away last night. When I was at university in new jersey, studying journalism, I remember discovering both her column and her books.. and being inspired.

Naturally many people have inspired me in this life, but to hear of Molly Ivins death was certainly sad news. I will miss reading her new words and thoughts, but thankfully she led an exciting and important life, and her words are always there for when I want to go back, read, remember, and be inspired.

Belgrade I hardly Knew Ste

As the hours flew by, we sat there at Rex (cyber-culture-center-thing), catching up on internet work and enjoying the most excellent environment that good people like D and N help create.

Eventually we realize it is getting late, and we’re due across town to meet the super interesting Vlidi, international Serbian of mystery, who I very much wanted to interview on the podcast.

Marcel and his big furry winter hat, Tim and his old man hat, me and my luggage-on-wheels dragging behind, said a quick goodbye to the good REXians and ran to the taxis. Speeding across town, I noticed some press near a government building, We passed that white Orthodox church thing that D says is such a dull monstrosity. Passed the open-air-maket, and eventually we stop at this huge apartment building that makes me think of socialist-housing-planning. It also reminds me of Newark, only I never walked into the projects in my ironbound childhood.

Suddenly I think it must be his wife, a fantastically pleasant young lady, who answers the door and we find ourselves in a cozy home full of life and things to look at. Of course, there’s no time for any of this, I have 30 minutes in which to interview the man about his experiences and knowledge of Kosovo. He knows this, and we get right down to it.. a wonderfully interesting interview from my perspective.. and of course we could have gone on and on. But Tim gives me the 5 minutes hand signal and I realize the clock is ticking to catch a train to Zagreb.

I say goodbye to all of them with a heavy heart… my travel companions and my new friends. From here on in, Im on my own. Running down the street eyeing the horizon for a cab… a banged up unknown brand of car pulls up and the cab driver gives me the “lets roll” signal. He zooms down the broad Belgrade avenues and suddenly I see what I was wondering if I’d ever get to see:

Stretching my neck out to manage to look all the way up… I see a massive building with every window blown out. It looks grey and completely abandoned, almost like a huge windstorm of grey dust is eating away at it. A huge gaping hole in one side that normally one might joke.. looked like a bomb had destroyed it. Of course, a bomb did destroy it. A NATO bomb.. maybe more specifically.. an American bomb. Either way.. even if it had been a East Timorese bomb, I would have felt the same degree of sadness at the sight. 16 people, I thought to myself.. I think 16 people died in that building.

The speedy cab driver drove on. Probably passes the building 6 times a day and doesn’t suffer from any flashbacks that somehow.. I get on my first visit. I jump out at the station, say the one Serbo-Croatian word I know how to say “Hvala” and just like that.. I’m on the train. As far as I know.. the right train.. to Croatia.

On the trainride home I sit alone in one of those cabins. Watching the sun go down over the Serbian horizon… its big.. its fairly empty.. and its beautiful. I turn off the mp3 player.. put away the book.. open the window and lean out… listening to the train sounds.. and whatever else I can hear. Occasionally smelling those wood burning stove smells.

So it goes, only a pair of days in Belgrade and Im back in Zagreb.. preparing to get back on the plane for home. My one big thought… I’m not ready to leave yet! Therefore.. I’ll be back quite soon.. so stay tuned.

Good Evening Serbia

Well… I can’t properly put into words how amazing it feels to be in Serbia. Plus.. internet is not so easy to come by in Belgrade, in the middle of the night.

So here’s a photo of the border patrol, on the way in from Croatia this evening… Ill be back in the morn.

Oh.. and yes… Belgrade has some very cool personality to it.

Ex Yugoslavia

Standing at the nightclub this evening, my eyes are scanning the crowd. going from face to face.. I keep asking myself.. do I see any differences.. between these kids and the kids in amsterdam.. or the kids in lisbon.. or the kids in new jersey?

Most would say there is no difference. They dress the same. They drink the same. They party the same. (?)

But I always see one difference. History. The history, not so much of these children per se, but that of their families. My mind starts wondering all sorts of crazy questions… how many of their parents were in the military… fighting in the war against Yugoslavia/Serbia, a bit more than a decade ago. How many have gandparents who can tell stories of Yugoslavia under Tito, or world war II when the Germans invaded. Each of these kids has a family history that would probably blow my mind. Yet here I am, having a drink side by side with them, and they seem less obsessed with the turns of history than I am.

I think it is truely interesting to be living in an ex-anything. Ex- GDR in Germany, ex-Soviet Union in Estonia, ex-Indochina in Vietnam, and yes.. Ex-Yugoslavia in Croatia. I guess every place on earth can claim to be an ex-something.. but being at a recently turned EX, I somehow see it in every piece of sidewalk or trainstation. A combination of an over active imagination and a quest to know as much history as possible, crammed into a few late night reading sessions and conversations with kind locals.

Eventually the boom-boom-boom of what seems like the same DJ Ive seen all my life broke me out of my deep thoughts. Time to move on, brave the below zero temperatures, and head back to this warm hotel.

Day 2…. done.