“There is an information war going on in Tunisia,” Adel explains to me one beautiful afternoon in a suburb of Tunis, “people are constantly consuming and waiting for that next message.” In an unexpected podcast conversation my new friend began right away talking about the good news and the bad news when it comes to changes in Tunisia over the past 2 years. He also talks about the importance, now especially, to be an activist-cyclist in this nation in transition. He guided us safely during our critical mass ride and in this conversation he guides us through how he lived the revolt of 2011.
Nadia Khiari “Willis in Tunis”
I’ve learned that Tunisia has a fantastic tradition, especially since the Uprising* of 2011, of cartoons with attitude. Nadia Khiari’s “Willis from Tunis” was born from the new freedom to express yourself and criticise things in public and he has wasted no time in becoming a recognized symbol and fearless critic of politics, culture, and Tunisian society in general. But behind the crazy cat there is an even cooler person, a Nadia that knows what she wants out of life and for her country, and since waking up from being a self proclaimed “zombie under the dictatorship”, she is now determined to never stop living her dream – making cartoons.
(Audio features Chris Lydon asking the questions, and me behind the scenes)
* I have decided for myself, with the help of many wise friends, to stop calling it a revolution or a spring, and start calling it an upheaval or uprising.
Amin’s Beautiful Family
The idea was to start our Arab Artists adventure with something extra special, with someone that could get us moving on the right foot, and that person turned out to be celebrated author and journalist Amin Maalouf. So before flying down to Tunis, Chris and I met up in Paris for 2 days of preparation and conversation. 2 days during which, it turned out, we would get to spend some quality time with a very wise man and his inspiring family.
We were scheduled to meet for a morning session; a long interview covering the middle east in the present, recent past, and much more. We hoped to talk history, arts, politics, and enjoy the life stories Amin might bring forth. But instead of waiting for that morning appointment, the night before Chris tells me “we should just go over there, drop by, say hello, and see if we can’t get some ideas out for him to sleep on.” My immediate reaction, even though I should realize Chris has been doing this very many decades, was to remind him that people are busy on Saturday nights, and he won’t be home (or he doesn’t want to see us until our agreed appointment).
We arrive at the address and sure enough realize we didn’t bring that essential Parisian tool, the door code. We stand at the door, periodically crossing the street and looking up at the window as if someone will look down and yell — “Oh its you guys, come on up!” – Right around then a neighbor opens the door and invites us in, “who are you looking for?” — Mr Maalouf, I explain. The woman doesn’t hesitate as she points me to the appropriate hallway. 30 seconds later, we’re warmly greeted by the sweetest couple that must have been a little shocked at this inter-generational journalist duo that just wandered in off the street. In his relaxed around the house clothes, Amin sat with us in the living room and immediately began to talk about a projects he is working on, people we have in common, and the latest updates about the US election race.
Not 12 hours later we are back in that same living room. This time Mr. Maalouf is sitting in the living room dressed nicely as I’ve often seen on BBC programs where he is interviewed. He’s been thinking about some of the things we talked about, and just as I figure out the ins and outs of Chris’s recorder, off we go on a 2+ hour journey through time and space. I kept expecting him to run off needing water or to answer a phone, but instead he stays with us and considers every question carefully. It was both exciting and exhausting as I reviewed in my head, every idea he put forward.
After those hours of holding the microphone and resisting the urges to comment, ask a question, or speak up in any way, Chris grabs the mic and puts me in his seat “Your turn Mark… time for you to let loose.” To his credit and my surprise, even after such a long discussion, Amin looked at me with interest. As if to say, “yes, you’ve been sitting there nodding and almost talking for a while.. Id like to know what you have to say.”
The whole discussion was already a massive success in my mind. But just when i though it couldn’t get any better, Mrs. Maalouf comes to get us, to make a plate and join the family for lunch. Now we’re launched into conversations and creative back and forth idea sharing, as the rest of the family is just as kind and engaging as the man himself. It was as if I was speaking with old friends who have long been working on similar ideas. Combine that with the best Lebanese food imaginable, and you get an afternoon that I hoped would never end.
The Energy of Beirut
Ask Katherine Maher to describe the Beirut that she loves and you get stories of a place that sounds like Brooklyn, Berlin, London and Rio de Janeiro crumpled up and dropped onto the map in a region filled with anxiety, trauma, and uncertain futures. A place where life is lived to the fullest, by day and by night. And if you want art, you’ve come to the right place.
On one fine October afternoon in Amsterdam, Katherine sat down with me to tell me of Beirut and the things a visiting journalist seeking storytellers and artists should keep in mind along the way.
“Now is a very interesting time… there is an incredible level of activity and activism among civil society that I have not seen in any comparative form in the last ten years.”
Here Til Its Gone
I’m sure many of you, like myself, have spent time over the past years watching either a TV series or a film involving an end of the world type scenario where our systems fail and people have to cope with the new reality. There is this mix of fascination with the possibility and concern with reality, that seems to be one reason why we watch those psy-fi dramas.
Here on the podcast, we have had guests who explain how in real life, system failure happens and can happen at an even greater level than we have seen so far. But when a major disaster hits and the possibility becomes a reality, even on a small-temporary level, the connection is seldom made that in fact, it would not take much to shut down the infrastructure that we are so accustomed to, and very little is being done to improve those structures.
Rare is the city or rural area where new drainage or power capacity is installed. De-centralized power generation continues to be a small movement with numerous obstacles to keep it from expanding. Services get bought, sold, and re-sold, prices go up, but few improvements get made. All sides claim a lack of funds and promise improvements for another day.
Instead of these more complicated and expensive discussions, most content spit out on the internet is about when its getting turned back on. Or, what political party will allegedly keep your house from being washed to sea. Massive deficiencies in the working of our beloved infrastructure are ignored in favor of the quick fixes and consumer level complaints.
Meanwhile we watch the zombie apocalypse, the end of electricity, and entire nations becoming submerged under water on our screens. Somehow, if its on a screen and the characters are good looking, its just a fun escape to help us ignore the fragile, rotting system beneath our feet.
How to See and Hear Egypt
Since the revolution began in 2011, many a foreign journalist has gone to Egypt filled with good intentions and enthusiasm. And while some have done interesting or inspiring work, there are still many in the international media that consistently get half the story or hardly any of it and go home proclaiming that they know what’s what.
With our upcoming journey to Tunisia and Egypt, our challenge is to get past those tendencies and see beyond our own natural limitations. To best do that, we turn to our Egyptian friends in-country and from the diaspora, and ask about their experiences and what they most wish journalists would take note of and stay open to while doing their work.
Today on the podcast I speak with a new friend of the program, herself an Egyptian living abroad and living-breathing the revolution everyday even if she isn’t on the streets or in the square; Hanna Yousef is my special guest as part of a conversation to learn her beautiful story and ask what advice she would give to a outsider-journalist like myself, heading to her beloved country for the first time, in search of stories. In many ways this is the preparatory conversation that every journalist should have yet we rarely get to hear as its considered unworthy for your ears; too candid and imperfect. exactly the type of conversation that makes me love podcasting.