Citizen Reporter

Syria Comes Closer

I have been silent over the past 2 weeks, trying to process a recent journey and an experience that had a profound impact on me. Although it would seem there are several ways to tell this story, I will start from the beginning and later this week delve into more specific details.

It is late April 2013 and I find myself working in Istanbul as a media trainer for a group of about 12 Syrians. Outside our hotel is the bustling city of 12+ million people, living their lives in a relatively prosperous and peaceful nation, which despite its problems feels more like an oasis when compared to what is happening just south of the border. (despite the recent car bombing) Inside our hotel, day after day, I find myself getting to know a group of Syrians who only last week were living in a war zone. Who next week will be back in that war zone, and the only thing that will have changed is that -hopefully- I (together with my partners on this project) have successfully taught them new and better methods for reporting the extremely important and tragic events unfolding around them.

Friends in Istanbul. - April 2013 — Friends in Istanbul. – April 2013

But while there may be peace outside and inside this Istanbul hotel, in our classroom war is ever present. Every piece of advice we have to give on recording and story telling has to be tempered with the disclaimer that if your city is being bombed and you’re in constant risk if being shot, you might have to do this another way. In between lessons we see the students consulting facebook and other independent Syrian media outlets for the latest developments back home. They show us photos and videos that depict unspeakable horror, and in between photos of children smiling amidst the rubble, people showing a peace sign in font of their destroyed homes. We are told about the terrible loss of friends and family over these past two years. The harsh reality of life in Syria today becomes more real to me in these rooms among these beautiful people, in a way that I have never felt before.

I want to hug my new Syrian friends (and we do hug). I want to do something more, yet everything feels insignificant considering the size and scope of the struggle they face. There is even the irrational desire in my heart, to take them all away to some place safe. Put them all living as my neighbors where we can have dinner every night together and enjoy the peaceful life they so obviously deserve.

But that is not the goal of this project nor of these new friendships. Each one of these people has a personal mission to return to their city, to keep trying to get the information out to the world. To at the very least, document the loss of life and culture, when no one else has the ability or the courage to do so. 2 years ago many of them were university students of science and humanities, when suddenly their world collapsed. Most never intended to be reporters or journalists, but when war broke out, they saw it as their personal responsibility.

After one brief but intense week together, I too was left with a renewed sense of personal responsibility. Though it pales in comparison with the task they have undertaken, I too want to help record and communicate the stories of Syria. I want to honor my students, my new friends who are toiling right now in different parts of that precarious land, by sharing their experiences and their stories with anyone and everyone who cares about human life in this world .

Marcela Olivera: After the Water Wars

The year was 2000 and on the streets of Cochabamba, Bolivia, people marched and demonstrated against the privatization of their water. In what became known as the water wars, the people on the streets emerged victorious, kicking out private water companies and re-instating the municipal system.

It was a huge moment in the war for who controls public resources, but as Marcela Olivera explains on the program today, it was only one battle is a very long process that is complicated and incomplete. But the core question remains as it did in 2000, who has the right to claim and control resources that are essential for human existence?

Food and Water Watch

Forgotten Schools, Limited Vision

While spending some days in Portugal this month I got to enjoy the beauty of spring in the small agricultural villages of my ancestors. Places where social and economic life has slowed down over the past few decades, as tens of thousands emigrate in search of steady income and a more certain future. Those that don’t leave the country, choose instead to move to bigger towns and cities where urban life may bring them the future their home town could not. Despite the mass exodus, these villages remain standing, all be it with more empty houses and quiet streets than ever before.

Among the growing list of institutions and concepts of the small village that have been discarded over time is the iconic school house. Built during the dictatorship as part of the plan that all Portuguese children should attend primary school (between 1940 and 1970), you can find this school in the heart of most any village. Prominently located with its simple style, these traditional buildings are increasingly being abandoned in favor of centralized urban schools where the few remaining children in villages are sent. A more modern and cost-effective approach to education in an era where the government tries everything it can do to cut costs and services.

Somewhere in the plan to have modern centralized schools, the fate of the old fashioned school house never received much consideration. Locking them up and letting time or the elements wear them down seems to be the only idea being carried out. This is despite a few exceptions where villages have found a way to re-purpose their school house as a community center. Rare examples of some proactive thinking that will allow a main stay of the community to have new life. (assuming there is a community in the area still)

For the most part, in the villages where my ancestors grew up, the very school houses they sent their children to, lay empty and forgotten. They don’t fit into the new Portugal (and world) where small and old has little value, while bigger and cheaper is considered the best path to take. And regardless of what photos are taken and what comments are made for a few corners of the internet, they will remain shuttered, a beautiful relic of a bygone era.

Making Private Water Public Again

Has your water utility been privatized in the past decade? Are today’s water companies really investing in infrastructure and improvements? How much democracy is there in your water bill? If any of these questions sound familiar, you probably care about who is in charge of bringing water to your home. And after all the promises that came with the privatization of water systems, many cities around the world have determined they want their water utility to be transparent, democratic, and public again. They call it, the re-municipalization of water. And on virtually every continent, it is taking root.

Today on the podcast, in an effort to understand what is happening with water companies and the re-municipalization of water, we hear from Dr. David McDonald of Queen’s University Canada. Over the past few years he has been studying and speaking about what is happening with water around the world. He co-authored the recent book “Remunicipalisation: Putting Water Back into Public Hands” which looks at case studies of from around the world. Cities like Paris, France; Hamilton, Ontario; Buenos Aries, Argentina; and Dar-es-Salaam, Tanzania. (available for free download)

Visit the Municipal Services Project for more background information and news on this issue. I also recommend their video below which is a great tool for better understanding what is going on with our water systems.

Why I Talk to Jehovah’s Witnesses

Years ago, when I finally put my last name on the front door bell of my home in Amsterdam, I began getting visits from Jehovah’s witnesses. Not just any run-of-the-mill witness, but Portuguese and Brazilians who noticed my last name and figured – here’s a guy we can talk to!

Sure enough, each time they rang, I would come out to greet them. Usually it was the kindest elderly Portuguese couple that reminded me of all my favorite relatives. Other times I would chat with two middle aged Brazilian ladies who were always smiling and pleasant. In either case a long tradition began, the word was out: some Portuguese guy lives in that house and he’ll talk to you, he’ll even invite you in for tea sometimes.

Why would I, a person who has no religion and no desire for one, spend so much time chatting with people who are constantly asking me if I believe in all these religious names and writings? My simple answer is- I live far from the Portuguese environment I grew up in back in New Jersey, I miss the daily contact and the language that brings me right back to my childhood and my family somehow. I’ll watch a copies of the newsletter pile up in my recycling bin; I’ll never turn one down. I’ll even dodge the question of whether or not I read the last one, so as not to hurt their feelings.

There is another reason I speak with Jehovah’s witnesses- the journalist in me is fascinated by people and their life missions. I obviously have mine, right here on this website. And I know how hard it can be, to carry on, to be heard, and to keep your faith (in my case, faith in my own abilities). I imagine my gentle Portuguese couple, walking the cold streets of Amsterdam, and getting doors slammed in their face. It makes me sad and want to boost their spirits, by preparing the tea and asking questions about their home towns and their families. Sure, they can ask me a few questions about god in exchange, it is a fair trade I suppose.

People probably think Jehovah’s Witnesses are weird. Part of me does. But if I think longer about it, about all the beauty in a warm greeting and friendly conversation over tea, I’m reminded of all the other missions people have in this world that are deemed understandable. People dedicated to making money. People dedicated to their partners or children. People dedicated to their art. These things are not all the same, but I see a certain similarity between everyone and their personal missions. Even those who’s mission is religions, one of my least favorite topics.

Not surprisingly, while I was visiting New Jersey in late 2012, I answered the door at my parents’ house. There, standing before me, were two Brazilian Jehovah’s Witnesses asking for my father by name like he was an old friend. “Is your father home? We normally chat with him and he always accepts our literature.”

Lizz Winstead: Political Windsurfing While Droning Your Neighbor

You can’t windsurf, because that would be elitist. But, if you’re the American president, you can drive around your ranch in a golf cart shooting guns, because people can relate to that. As comedian and writer Lizz Winstead explains it, sometimes there is no debate possible if we don’t agree on fundamental and proven facts. Over the past few months Lizz has been promoting her book “Lizz Free or Die” and travelling around the United States to see what people are doing and what they think about politics or life in general. Having written for several memorable television programs which includes having co-created The Daily Show with Jon Stewart, Lizz can tell you thing or two about what is good and what is bad about politics and media in the United States.

By chance, I ran into her at a conference in Sweden earlier this month and spent a few afternoons having excellent discussions, such as this one featured in today’s podcast.