Matador Network's Blog, page 2308

Welcome to the inside of a tornado

ON MAY 27th, 2013, a wedge tornado tore through northern Kansas. Meteorologist Brandon Ivey, protected by an armored car (which looks something like this), managed to record what it looks like to be inside the bowels of one of the most destructive forces of nature I know. How everything managed to stay in one place, I have no idea. The footage makes me wonder how anything survives a tornado, really.

The post 1 reason NOT to move to Kansas: This is what the inside of a tornado looks like appeared first on Matador Network.

Notes from Rwanda's church memorials

Photo: _rh

“I am the un-missionary…beginning each day on my knees, asking to be converted. Forgive me, Africa, according to thy multitude of mercies.”

- The Poisonwood Bible, by Barbara Kingsolver

“How long have you known the Lord?” a young parishioner asks me after my first Sunday service at my host family’s church. I just explained to church members why I’m in Rwanda. “East African Politics,” I said, because it’s easier than nonchalantly dropping the phrase “genocide studies” into conversation, especially in a church.

“My whole life.”

“Wow. That’s so nice. I want to know the Lord like that.”

I want to tell him I’m burdened by my faith. I want to tell him the Bible he reads helped craft the genocide ideology that killed his family. I want to tell him his church is named Victory Mission for a reason. But I smile instead, grateful for his congregation’s hospitality.

It’s no wonder, then, that the genocide came to fruition in the very place where its message was first planted — the churches.

In the year 1900, Jesus, accompanied by German colonizers and then the Belgian government, arrived in Rwanda in the form of a white missionary. He held a Bible in one hand and a gun behind His back. Instead of His usual parables about the prodigal son and the woman’s search for her lost coin, He wove tales about power, telling the Tutsi people about their God-given right as superior humans. With this God-given right came the ability to rule over their brothers, the Hutus.

Tutsis, according to the widely held interpretation of the biblical story of Ham, were made in the image and likeness of God, except they had the misfortune of being clothed in skin the color of darkness. The Hutus, though, were humans of a lesser breed, possibly made as an afterthought on the last day of creation. Let the children come to me, He told them, but only the Tutsi ones.

Later, after World War II, inspired by theologies about social justice, Jesus and his Belgian disciples switched their allegiance to the Hutus. The Cains of Rwanda yearned for revenge against the Abels, and through the Church’s guidance, their will would soon be done.

It’s no wonder, then, that the genocide came to fruition in the very place where its message was first planted — the churches.

Nyamata

Our guide points to a small crucifix resting on the bloodstained altar. “This cross was used to kill people,” he says.

Photo: Author

Next to the cross lie a machete, a few rosaries, and ID cards used to differentiate Tutsis from Hutus. On the wall to the left of the altar sits a statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary.

I wonder what horrors those stone eyes witnessed. How many died with a rosary in their hand and her name lingering on their lips? Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Amen.

They were the sacrificial lambs, killed in communion with one another, the body of Christ literally broken on the altar of the Lord.

Matted, soiled clothes of the dead sit in heaps scattered around the humble wooden pews of the small church, as if anticipating one last homily. Eventually, our guide gathers us near the back wall. He points out the blood on the wall and tells us that the Interahamwe dangled babies by their feet and bashed their heads into the wall. Then they raped the children’s mothers before finishing them off with machetes. The sound of schoolchildren’s laughter seeps through the grenade-studded, open doors and reverberates off the bricks marked with the remains of Rwandese children, children who are most likely relatives of the ones playing outside.

Then our guide leads us downstairs to a glass case filled with bones. In 2001, my parents took my sisters and me to Italy as part of a church choir tour; it was the ultimate Catholic pilgrimage, even concluding with an appearance by Pope John Paul II. Confused by the Catholic Church’s obsession with the remains of saints and popes, I nicknamed Italy, “The Home of the Dead Bodies,” an innocent observation for an 8-year-old fascinated with history and the intricacies of the Catholic Church.

But I was wrong. Rwanda is “The Home of the Dead Bodies.” Except these bodies are not relics to be fetishized. These bones are victims of genocide. I imagine the thousands of bones and clothes of Nyamata put on display at the Vatican, skulls gazing upward at the ceiling of Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel. Would the world care then?

Ntarama

By the time we arrive in Ntarama on the same day, we are numb. It’s unfathomable that there is another church like Nyamata littered with shattered bodies that once tilled and breathed and rejoiced among these spectacular hills.

Photo: Greg Kendall-Ball

Even here, between the decaying bricks and coffins filled with the dead, it’s still impossible to imagine. I think that is what frightens me the most about this trip. I am here. And yet, I still struggle to imagine Rwanda in 1994. What about the people back home? How can they ever begin to imagine a time in history that only exists in their most feverish nightmares?

Our tour ends in the former nursery school. Once again, our tour guide points out the blood and brain mixture still sticking to the walls of the building. Once again, he demonstrates how small, innocent bodies were thrown against the bricks.

It is a different church. A different tour guide. Different souls. But the same calculated method of killing. Our tour guide picks up a stick; it must be at least seven feet long. He explains how the stick was shoved inside a woman’s body, reaching all the way to her head. And then they killed her. I find myself thankful she died.

A group of villagers watches us process back to the bus. I avoid eye contact with them, embarrassed that I have made a spectacle of their home and their dead. “Now you come,” their eyes seem to say. “Now you come with your cameras and your passports. Well now it’s too late.”

Soon after our visit to Nyamata and Ntarama, I attend church with my host family again. “He will save us. He will save us. He will save us,” the congregation chants. If there was a time for the Savior’s second coming, it was in April of 1994, but He never came. What makes them think He will save them now?

Kibeho

“How old were you in ’94?” Sister Macrine asks me as we walk towards Kibeho Parish. I’m in Kibeho as a part of an independent study project, researching the building’s dual role as a memorial and active church. I’m hyper-aware that this trip is a pseudo-pilgrimage, my twisted, yet academically driven way of confronting my faith crisis.

“Only a year old.”

“Ahhh, so young,” she says half laughing.

“Do you know why it is still a church instead of a memorial?” I ask, even though I know the answer. Kibeho Parish is not a memorial like Nyamata and Ntarama because the Vatican is embarrassed about the Church’s complicity during the genocide. Instead, the Rwandan government and the Catholic Church compromised, hiding a small memorial behind locked doors. An open memorial would mean confessing the Church’s sins. And though they may promote the sacrament of reconciliation, the Vatican doesn’t always practice what they preach.

“I don’t know,” she says.

I can tell my obsession with the Parish confuses her, even pains her. She can’t understand why I’m not here to pray at the Sanctuary of Our Lady of the Word, the church down the road, where in the 1980s the Blessed Virgin Mary appeared to three Rwandan school girls, and at the Holy Mother’s request, the church was built in her honor. She can’t understand why I’m not like the rest of Kibeho’s pilgrims who come searching for divine intervention. If only she knew that I have come to Kibeho hoping for a miracle as well.

She tells me she doesn’t like going into the crypt. I assure her multiple times that I can go alone, but she comes anyway.

“Don’t cry,” she says before we step down into the cellar filled with shelves stacked neatly with bones.

White, lace-fringed curtains covering the shelves curl in the breeze, revealing skulls that once bore the faces of Kibeho residents. I pull open one of the curtains to find entire bodies encased in white powder, similar to the victims of Murambi, a former vocational school now a memorial. Small, patchy tufts of black hair cling to some of the bodies’ skulls, and even though the sight mimics Murambi, it still surprises me; for some reason, I’ve always associated hair with life.

Next, she takes me to the Parish to pray. A plaque on the looming, desecrated building states the church was established in 1943. That same year, oceans away, the Nazis had already infiltrated remote Polish towns, and erected chambers and barracks that would soon house the Jews of Europe. Half a century later, Kibeho Parish would serve the same function, except this time, the killers were so sure of themselves they wanted God as their witness.

I that I would feel angry inside the building that betrayed more than 25,000 Tutsis. I thought I would be able to feel the spirits of the dead, dancing around me, haunting the humans thoughtless enough to ignore their presence. But I feel nothing.

I’m jealous of my classmates who came to Rwanda with no belief in God. They have nothing to lose. [image error]

The post “Do this in memory of me”: Reflections from 3 of Rwanda’s church memorials appeared first on Matador Network.

How to piss off someone from Wales

Photo: David Jones 大卫 琼斯

Suggest that Wales is part of England.

Here are some facts:

he UK is a country made up of four countries. Only one of which is England.
England and the UK are not synonyms. They never have been.
If you refer to a Welsh person as English, the UK as England, or say that “Wales and England are basically the same,” a Welsh person will definitely punch you in the gob.

While we’re on this point — England, we’re looking at you — Wales is a country and not a principality. You can check Wikipedia and everything.

Try pronouncing Welsh words you saw somewhere once.

I’m not even going to start on people saying the Welsh language is an unattractive glottal minefield of nasal mutations and missing vowels. Because while it may sound like your mongrel dog is being sick on the carpet again, Rover is our mutt, and we’re trying damn hard to keep the bastard alive.

If you speak Welsh, I applaud you. We need more people like you. On the other hand, if you haven’t studied it, been forced to speak it by nagging relatives, or been plagued by bilingual announcements every day of your life, then you probably are not very good at pronouncing our native tongue. If you still pronounce “Pontypridd” as “Pontyprid,” “Cathays” as “Cathys,” and “Cymru” as some mess of sounds similar to “Psymeroo,” then please don’t even try. You’re impressing no one.

But here are some hints for you: The ‘dd’ is more like an English ‘th,’ the ‘ch’ is a bit like that noise that Donald Duck makes when he’s angry, and the ‘ll’ is the hiss your cat Babwyn makes when you try and put him in the bath.

Point out the Welsh minute.

In Wales, everything that ever has, is, or ever will happen, happened / is happening / will happen “now, in a minute.” Please don’t point out to us the grammatical contradiction in that something can’t happen now and also in a minute, for you mere mortal do not understand the Welsh minute.

The Welsh minute is somewhere between immediately and within the next year. For example, you can be eating your scorching hot Welsh cakes “now, in a minute” (immediately while scolding your mouth), take out the recycling before the binmen come “now, in a minute” (sometime this evening probably), and also go on that long-awaited weekend away to Tenby that Gwyn recommended “now, in a minute” (in August), for the Welsh minute is not limited to your flimsy perception of what 60 seconds really is. The Welsh minute is infinite, it is eternal.

While we’re at it, we know our coats and jackets can’t be “hanging” on the floor, but we just like to think of them as such.

Criticize the Welsh accent.

Sadly, this one may just be about me. With three years at university in England, three years spent living abroad, plus an English father (we don’t like to talk about him), my accent has morphed and changed as the years go on. However, whenever I’m home, and I speak with my sister in particular, my accent goes back to what it always was, virtually incomprehensible to anyone from outside where I grew up.

I’m from Cardiff. While many Welshies would argue this isn’t ‘proper’ Wales, I would urge you to accept me as one of your own. I, after all, went through 12 years of Welsh language education like the rest of you.

When you, Welsh and non-Welsh folk alike, tell me my accent isn’t Welsh, I hasten to point out that we can’t all have that delightful sing-song dialect of the valleys. Unfortunately, some of us have this sort of throaty, chavy Cardiff / Newport accent and others, even more unfortunately, have that nasal North Walian drawl. But we all do have Welsh accents. It’s just not the one you’re thinking of.

Quote Gavin and Stacey

Oh, how we laughed when James Corden was angry about onion bhajis, or when Ruth Jones implied she’d fingered herself, or something like that. Okay, is this where I can safely admit I’ve never even seen the show? Despite being proud of Ruth Jones’ achievements as one of our nation’s best comediennes, she did unwittingly destroy a little part of being Welsh for me. Even nearly five years since the finale aired, the show’s traumatizing legacy lingers in the hearts of its fans.

I have to admit that while I was curious to watch a show labelled as one of the best things to echo Welsh life since Twin Town, and had people wetting their pants even just reminiscing about past episodes, I never even dipped in a toe.

So no, sorry, I may be Welsh, but I’m not called “Bryn,” I am not flattered when you tell me that, as a fairly unreserved woman, I am “just like Nessa,” and finally, and I think above all, I don’t know “What’s occurring?” But I do know what will be reoccurring if you ask me that question, and that is a fist meeting your face over and over again.

Say, “My mom is Welsh.”

Oh, really? Where did she grow up? Because if it wasn’t somewhere within the Welsh borders then, I’m sorry, but she does not belong to the Land of our Fathers and neither do you.

We don’t give a flying fuck if you have some sort of Welsh ancestry somewhere way back when, or how you’re distantly related to some Welshman you don’t even know the name of. I’m sorry, but we just don’t.

Assume England is better than Wales, mainly because it’s bigger.

Sitting atop Mt. Snowden, in one of Wales’ beautiful national parks, trying to spot the world-famous railway station Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch in the distance, popping a couple pills I got free on prescription, admiring the degree I got for free after studying at my Welsh university, my cariad (sweetheart) and I drink Brains as we idly chat about the fun we had at our childhood Eisteddfods, our last two Six Nations wins, and how proud we are that Bale refuses to play for England, and I ponder the question, “Is England better than Wales?”

The answer is simply, no. Because no country is ‘better’ than any other country.

Arguing that England is better than Wales just because it’s bigger and has more people and more money is really just reaffirming our belief that the English are cultureless morons. If bigger always meant better, we’d still be carrying around those comically sized phones from the ’80s.

Wales is not better than England, and England is not better than Wales, but if you were going to ask me which country I’d prefer to live in, I would have to pick the one that warms my heart, and fails to destroy my soul. I would have to pick Wales. [image error]

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Music to veto to

LAST NIGHT, Arizona Governor Jan Brewer vetoed SB 1062, a bill that would have given businesses the right to turn away gay customers on the grounds that serving them could violate merchants’ religious freedom. In honor of the governor’s rare moment of insight, I want to share a special track. I’m typically not a fan of the rapper Macklemore, but his song “Same Love” gets a fresh update by artist Angel Haze.

Known for spitting quick verses over menacing beats, she slows down here to confess her own painful coming out story. She begins, “Hi Mom, I’m really scared right now,” — a hint of vulnerability beneath an otherwise badass image. “At age 13 my mom knew I wasn’t straight,” she says, later adding, “she sat me down on the couch, looked me straight in my face, and said you’ll burn in hell or probably die of AIDS.”

The message is that political, social, and legal forms of discrimination against LGBTQ folks needs to stop. Angel Haze is over it, and it’s time for some pockets of American society to catch up. “It’s funny now,” she raps. “But at age 13 it was pain. To be almost sure of who you are and have it ripped away.”

The post Music to celebrate the veto of Arizona’s anti-gay bill appeared first on Matador Network.

Where does your travel story begin?

Photo: Sebastiano Pitruzzello

“Every story is a physical map of how to travel from one place to another. Some places are physical; others are not.”

- Don Rowlands, Aboriginal elder and ranger at Munga-Thirri National Park in Australia

This is the final part of a 5-part series, Transforming your travel writing.

WHAT DEFINES A STORY? Each of us has a slightly different interpretation. What I’ve found over the years is that whether methods of storytelling are visual — photography or video — or through writing, all powerful stories share a common quality, something evoked by Rowlands’ definition above: They express movement. The narrator isn’t describing a static place but a world in motion. Or the image compels your eyes to move all over, rendering the story through the interplay of subject and background.

And this movement isn’t limited to physical movement, but a sense of temporality, or time itself moving. Of characters in the midst of experiences and events to which there’s a clear before and after. There is a feeling, as is often said of a successful photograph, of “capturing a moment” in the characters’ lives, revealing their emotions, presenting the story map of their place and culture in a way that shows how things are always changing, always moving around them.

Even simple blog posts, which one might not think of as stories, can be snapshots of thoughts and emotions that contain this sense of movement.

You can also turn this element of movement outwards towards the audience. What effect should your image, your video, your story have? Ultimately we want the reader or viewer herself to be moved. We want that sense of temporality to be powerful enough to enclose the audience, so that when we’re finally released, we come away with new emotions — inspiration, outrage, encouragement, empathy, celebration — all of which can lead to actual movement in our lives — trying something new, booking a flight somewhere, deciding to volunteer, take action. This is when digital storytelling becomes an art form.

Locating ourselves

One way to further understand temporality or movement is to look at the concept of locating ourselves. Throughout life, our familiar routines, environment, and day-to-day activities undergo moments of turbulence, change. Moving to a new city. Quitting an old job and starting a new one. Traveling. Losing a loved one. Getting married. Giving birth to a child. Experiencing health problems. Accomplishing important projects. As we transition through these large-scale changes, we undergo a process of locating ourselves in a new reality. There’s both a physical and emotional adjustment period.

Even our daily lives can be seen as a minute-by-minute experience of locating ourselves. Again, it’s physical: Going out to a new restaurant, literally choosing where to sit, noting who is there, studying what’s on the menu. But it’s also emotional, a process of registering our feelings (anxiety? joy? boredom? curiosity?) as we sit down, eat, converse, interact with the company. In some ways each time we wake up, have our morning rituals, look out the window, think about the day’s schedule, we go back through the process of locating ourselves.

Notice how this process encompasses all different measures of time, or as described above, a sense of temporality. Locating ourselves contains the “now” we’re experiencing this very second, but is influenced by the whole arc of our lives, the series of decisions, actions, and patterns that brought us to this moment.

Photo: Chris JL

This is especially important when considering other characters. When you observe people — say, the patrons of your local cafe — how much of their stories are you actually seeing? A distrait young mom with her legs pulled up in a yoga pose, scrolling through her phone while her daughter plays absentmindedly with a spoon. A man in his 70s with a scarf loose around his neck, solemnly reading the newspaper. An anxious-looking late-middle-aged woman reaching into her bag and pulling out a folder, presenting it to a woman across the table.

If we only look at them in this one moment, we tend to see one-dimensional figures, stereotypes. The yoga mom. The retiree. The saleswoman. But if we could learn how these people are themselves located in this particular moment in time, then we start to see people we can identify with through their stories. Say the young woman is just entering a trial separation from her husband, and is waiting for a girlfriend to arrive, debating whether or not to tell her. Or the retiree has just made the decision to sell his home in the neighborhood and move into assisted living. Or the saleswoman has received bad news about her health earlier that morning, and as she pitches a potential client, she can’t believe she’s actually there working, pretending to be OK, when inside she wants to cry, revolt, escape.

What makes stories resonate with us is that we’re able to inhabit a different temporality for a while. Even just stopping to gaze at a photo can become a kind of transport into another set of emotions. And so by paying attention to how we locate ourselves — and how other people are surely in the process of locating themselves as well — we begin to see potential stories everywhere and how they fit together.

Where you are right now

In addition to looking at how to locate ourselves through different points of time, we can also look at “location” in a literal sense: registering exactly where we are geographically, physically. Consider right now in this present moment. Where are you located exactly? Not just a street address but within the greater geography of the region? If you could map out the local watershed, where are you right now within the branches of creeks and rivers, estuaries and ocean? Where does the water come from? Where does it go? What is upstream and downstream?

Without checking smartphones or other devices, do you know which way is north? Point to it. From where do prevailing winds blow? What phase is the moon in? Where in the horizon will it be coming up tonight, or setting?

What is the name of the street you’re on? The town or city? Who gave it that name? What does that name mean? Who was there before you? What is the history of the room you’re in right now? The lot your house or building is on?

Do you see how this can trigger a story?

As your write, continually circle back to these concepts again and again:

1. How do you show where you (and other characters) are located?

2. How do you portray your life (and other characters’ lives) through certain moments in time?

When you figure out the answer to those two questions, you have your story. [image error]

Editor’s note: This lesson is excerpted from new and forthcoming curricula for the Travel Writing course at MatadorU.

The post What is a travel story and where does yours begin? appeared first on Matador Network.

17 signs your soul belongs in France

Photo: Margot Gabel

1. You not only can but you enjoy surviving off of baguettes, cheese, and red wine (and you’re not an alcoholic because you know wine doesn’t really count as alcohol).

2. You’d rather die than eat or drink while walking, and you’re always one to roll your eyes at the métro lunch-muncher. Seriously, take your time to eat. There’s no rush.

3. You weirdly like the smell of cigarette smoke because it reminds you of warm afternoons at outdoor cafés.

4. You can spot Americans in France from a mile away. They’re wearing a t-shirt, and probably speaking English loudly, as if the reason they’re not being understood isn’t the language barrier but that they’ve yet to make themselves sufficiently audible. Also, they’re likely smiling. Who does that?

5. Cupcakes? Good one. You’ve tasted macarons so you know better.

6. Banter with friends usually includes some sort of jab at people who drink rosé.

7. You always dress like you’re ready for Scott Schuman to photograph you for The Sartorialist.

8. You wholeheartedly agree with the phrase: “Mélanie Laurent is a goddess.”

9. Your non-Francophile friends don’t understand why you care about dates like July 14th and 1789.

10. You ask for a pain au chocolat — not a “chocolate croissant” (even though it probably annoys your friends). Same goes with correctly pronouncing ballet terminology, the names of all those amazing philosophers, even popular restaurants like Le Pain Quotidien.

11. Not taking a two-hour lunch break is one of the seven deadly sins.

12. You know there’s nothing wrong with complimenting someone on his/her appearance. Perhaps you even indulge in a stare while walking past a particularly attractive person because you know they’ll be flattered, not creeped.

13. You often wonder why education isn’t pretty much free everywhere. So too goes for healthcare. Doesn’t it seem rather unethical that Americans are legally required to have car insurance, but not health insurance?

14. You recite the three pillars of deliciousness like a mantra: Gruyere, Camembert, Roquefort.

15. You’re personally offended by Gérard Depardieu’s France-shaming shenanigans.

16. You find yourself cursing British people without really knowing why.

17. Your idea of a perfect afternoon is relaxing in a sunny garden or café terrasse with a fantastic book and a journal for taking down some ideas. [image error]

The post 17 signs your soul belongs in France appeared first on Matador Network.

33 people standing up to injustice

Every now and then, when someone stands up to injustice, there’s a photographer nearby who catches the iconic moment on film.

These images are a testament to what brave people can do when faced with injustice that may seem insurmountable, and may even destroy them. Here are some of the great moments in human defiance.

1

The tank man of Tiananmen Square
The day after the Chinese government brutally cracked down on the 1989 protests in Tiananmen Square, a single unidentified man stood in front of the oncoming tanks. The image—captured by five photographers, most of whom were in the Beijing Hotel—has become one of the best-known symbols of defiance of all time. As the man is unknown, his fate is unknown as well.

(Via)






2

The Stonewall riots
In the '50s and '60s in America, the police regularly raided gay establishments and shut them down, but when they raided the Stonewall Inn in Greenwich Village in 1969, the crowd spontaneously decided to fight back. The ensuing riots are now widely considered to be the start of the modern gay rights movement.

(Via)






3

The Olympic Black Power salute
When American Olympians Tommie Smith and John Carlos won the gold and bronze medals (respectively) in the 200 meter race in the 1968 Mexico City Olympics, they raised their gloved fists for the duration of the American National Anthem. While the gesture is largely considered a symbol of the Black Power movement, Smith and Carlos suggested it was a show of solidarity for all human rights. The silver medalist, Australian Peter Norman, was also a staunch opponent of racism.

(Via)






Intermission





28 freaky ghost towns you can visit [pics]





11 images to remind us of the need for activism around the world





8 hot travel photos on Instagram this week












4

The fall of the Berlin Wall
A protester straddles the soon-to-fall Berlin Wall at the end of the Cold War.

(Via)






5

Making out in front of Westboro
It's become a popular way to counter-protest the awful homophobic Westboro Baptist Church: making out in front of them. No matter how many variations there are of these pictures, they're always delightful.

(Via)






6

Rosa Parks on a Montgomery bus
This photo of Rosa Parks was taken the day after the legal integration of Montgomery's bus system. This advance was the direct result of a boycott of the city's buses initiated after Parks refused to move to the back of the bus.

(Via)






7

The Newsboys Strike of 1899
The Newsboys Strike was a youth-led campaign for higher wages for the deplorably treated newspaper boys of New York City. The strike was a notable early moment in the child labor movement.

(Via)






8

Mahatma Gandhi at his spinning wheel
As part of his campaign against British imperialism, Gandhi encouraged Indians to spend time each day at a spinning wheel creating their own cloth, rather than spending money on British-made cloth. The image is now so inextricable from Indian history that the spinning wheel is featured on the Indian flag.

(Via)






9

Vancouver riots kiss
Okay, so technically this isn't anyone standing up to injustice—after the Vancouver Canucks lost to the Boston Bruins in the Stanley Cup, Canucks fans rioted in the streets of Vancouver. Riot police stepped in, and this photo was snapped. The couple in the photo are Alexandra Thomas and her boyfriend Scott Jones. Thomas was knocked down by the cops and Jones was comforting her. Either way, the image of love in the midst of violence took off immediately on the internet.

(Via)






Intermission





You’ve never seen water like this [65 photos]





13 arresting travel photos from Nat Geo’s 2013 contest





How people pray around the world












10

Flower Power
This iconic photo was taken during a Vietnam War protest in Washington, DC. When a squad of National Guard members kept the protesters from approaching the Pentagon, a number of famous photos were taken, including the one above of 17-year-old Jan Rose Kasmir by French photographer Marc Riboud, and also this one of an unknown protester. Kasmir was part of the pacifist "Flower Power" movement.

(Via)






11

Martin Luther King's "I Have a Dream" speech
MLK, Jr.'s "I Have a Dream" speech is widely considered one of the most powerful of all time, and encapsulates the entire civil rights movement he was fighting for.

(Via)






12

Jesse Owens at the 1936 Berlin Olympics
The 1936 Olympics were supposed to be a showcase for Hitler's Germany, and in many ways, were a great success for the Führer. But American runner Jesse Owens—deemed "subhuman" according to Nazi doctrine—won four gold medals, and reportedly left Hitler furious.

(Via)






13

Thich Quang Duc's self-immolation
Thich Quang Duc was a Buddhist monk who burned himself alive in the streets of Saigon in 1963 in protest of the government crackdown on Buddhists. His protest caused huge problems and led John F. Kennedy to say, "No news picture in history has generated so much emotion around the world as that one." The protest would be repeated nearly 50 years later by a Tunisian street vendor named Mohamed Bouazizi, which kicked off the massive uprising known as the Arab Spring.

(Via)






14

Suffragettes in London
Women's suffrage was achieved (much later than is remotely okay) because of early women's rights activists like these.

(Via)






15

Nelson Mandela's release
When Nelson Mandela was released in 1990 after 27 years in prison, he helped cultivate an attitude of forgiveness in South Africa that would lead to a peaceful transition out of the apartheid regime.

(Via)






Intermission





The 54 best photos of 2012 [Matador edition]





23 photos that will make you want to travel





23 iconic lighthouses around the world [PICs]












16

Madres of Plaza de Mayo
When the far-right Argentine government started "disappearing" (read: kidnapping them, torturing them, murdering them, and then dumping their bodies out of planes into the Atlantic) political opponents, leftists, academics, and clergy, much of the population was silent. But then the mothers of the disappeared started demonstrating in Buenos Aires' Plaza de Mayo, in defiance of the military government. Many of them were "disappeared" themselves. Known as the "Madres of Plaza de Mayo," they are still active in Argentina in working to uncover the fates of their children.

(Via)






17

The pepper spray protesters
During a nonviolent Occupy protest on the campus of UC Davis, this image was captured of a police officer calmly shooting pepper spray directly into the eyes of sitting protesters. The image went viral and instantly became a meme, and a symbol for the overreaction of police forces to the Occupy movement.

(Via)






18

The White Rose
The White Rose was a German pacifist resistance group in Munich. They dropped leaflets in favor of freedom of speech and freedom of religion all across the country until, in 1943, the six most prominent members were captured and beheaded by the Gestapo.

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19

Oscar Romero
After the murder of one of his friends—also a priest—Oscar Romero, the Archbishop of San Salvador, began to use his position to speak out against social injustice, poverty, and the torture and executions committed by the Salvadoran government and military. For this, he was murdered in the middle of giving Mass, by a member of a United States-backed death squad. He remains a symbol of the people in El Salvador to this day.

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20

Joseph Welch vs. Joseph McCarthy
During one of the hearings of Joseph McCarthy's appalling anti-communist witch hunt in the 1950s, Joseph Welch, the head counsel for the United States Army, was asked to testify against a young lawyer when he burst out with, "Let us not assassinate this lad further, Senator. You've done enough. Have you no sense of decency, sir? At long last, have you left no sense of decency?" This outburst, along with the report of journalist Edward R. Murrow, helped to finally end McCarthyism.

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21

The Arab Spring
Touched off by the self-immolation of a Tunisian street vendor, the protests and uprisings of the Arab Spring managed to topple demagogues across the Arab world and led to an outpouring of support for democracy among these nations. While the results have been at best mixed, hardly enough time has passed for us to pass judgment on the Arab Spring.

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22

Live Aid
Say what you want about "Feed the World," ("There won't be snow in Africa this Christmas"? Who gives a shit?), Live Aid, the massive concert organized by Bob Geldof to fight famine in the third world is estimated to have raised £150 million. That's a lot of mouths that are no longer hungry, and all thanks to awesome music.

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23

Daniel Ellsberg and the Pentagon Papers
Disgusted with the war in Vietnam, military analyst Daniel Ellsberg decided, at great personal risk, to leak the Pentagon Papers, a set of documents that revealed the administration knew how destructive and unwinnable the war would be. The leak not only helped turn public opinion against the war, but set several legal precedents for whistleblowers and freedom of the press.

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24

Malala Yousafzai shot
After actively campaigning for the right of young girls to go to school, at age 14, Malala Yousafzai was tracked down and shot in the head by the Taliban. She managed to survive and, despite further threats, has continued to campaign for girls' education in Afghanistan.

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25

Cesar Chavez and the Delano Grape strike and boycott
In protest of the low pay given to grape pickers—their demands were that they be paid at least minimum wage—Cesar Chavez's United Farm Workers and a number of other groups led a 5-year boycott against California grape growers. The successful boycott was one of the first actions that brought attention to the plight of migrant workers in the United States.

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26

Julia Butterfly Hill and the tree-sit
In order to keep the Pacific Lumber Company from clear-cutting redwoods, Julia "Butterfly" Hill climbed 180 feet into a redwood named Luna and lived there for 2 years. The tree (and all trees around it for 200 feet) were saved, and a deal was reached with the loggers.

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27

Crystal Lee Sutton forms a Union
When she was fired from her job in a textile plant for trying to form a union, Crystal Lee Sutton went to the middle of the factory floor, wrote “UNION” on a piece of cardboard, and silently turned it around on the floor. The rest of the factory workers shut off their machines and held the “V for Victory” sign. She was forcibly removed, but her act won the workers a union. Note: As no picture of the actual event exists, this photo is from Norma Rae, the film based on Sutton’s life, starring Sally Field.


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28

Aung San Suu Kyi’s house arrest
Aung San Suu Kyi, the peaceful Burmese pro-democracy activist, was under house arrest on and off for 21 years. Though she was allowed to leave Burma several times during this period, she chose not to for fear that she wouldn’t be able to come back. Her husband died while she was under house arrest. She was released in 2010.


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29

The Second Battle at Wounded Knee
To protest corruption on the Pine Ridge Reservation, as well as more general and longstanding grievances with the US government, a group of American Indian Movement activists occupied the symbolic site of Wounded Knee. The following siege by US Marshals and FBI led to 3 deaths, but managed to bring national attention to the poor treatment of American Indians by the federal government.

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30

Elizabeth Eckford goes to school
Elizabeth Eckford was a member of the Little Rock 9—the first group of black students to be allowed into Little Rock’s segregated school system. In this picture, she calmly walks to school while being pursued by a hostile white mob.


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31

Horace Greasley confronts Himmler
British POW Horace Greasley was a badass. He escaped the Nazi war camp he was in 200 times as part of a love affair, and when Himmler toured the camp, he confronted him, as seen in this picture.


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32

Christian protesters protect Muslims during prayer
The Arab Spring in Egypt has been marred in many cases by religious violence. But this picture, taken in 2011, shows Christian protesters protecting Muslim protesters during their daily prayers from the government forces that often rode through Tahrir Square and attacked them.


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33

A child vs. austerity
After the 2008 crash, some European nations instituted serious austerity measures, which were met with protests. During one such action, this child walked up to the riot police and handed them a heart-shaped balloon.



(Via)

The post 33 iconic photos of people standing up to injustice appeared first on Matador Network.

On standing out in Afghanistan

Photo: The U.S. Army

I shook my lighter in frustration, trying to get enough flame to light the end of the crumpled cigarette hanging from my mouth. “Come on you worthless shit,” I mumbled. Noticing how aggravated I was, my Afghan colleague produced his lighter and helped me out. He smirked at me as I took a deep and overly dramatic drag of that cigarette. Adeeb knew that I don’t smoke cigarettes and that I was handling the stress of the moment poorly.

On this particular Tuesday afternoon, we were standing by our armored vehicles in the parking lot of a government compound in Kabul. Guarding cars is not my job, and there are few people less qualified to “pull security” than me. But my coworkers (ironically all former Special Forces guys) had a meeting to attend and left the new guy behind. So there I stood, looking very American in a crowd of people who all seemed to be scowling at me.

Sure, I could have taken off the Ray-Bans and tried to blend in a little. But if I was going to get shot, I wanted them to find my body and say, “Damn! He looked good today!”

This particular government compound was a bit of a disappointment, honestly. It resembled a really shitty community college in America, complete with trash-strewn lawns, dumpy three-story buildings, and overcrowded parking lots. I was also aware there had been a number of attacks against Westerners here. “Sticky bombs” are especially popular in Kabul at the moment. They are magnetic explosives that can be stuck to the undercarriages of vehicles and detonated by cell phones at inopportune moments. But for the chance to kill a six-foot-tall American standing in a public parking lot in broad daylight, an insurgent might be so bold as to try something more direct. As such, I was being a little more paranoid than necessary and was immensely grateful for Adeeb’s company.

You don’t hear about the Afghan people who had to secretly watch Titanic on a tiny black-and-white television during the Taliban days.

“Mr. Charlie, what province are you from?” He could clearly tell I was on edge. Adeeb was quick with a joke and always ready to laugh, however serious the situation.

“I am from the province of California. It’s really beautiful — I can drive to the beach from my house in 15 minutes.” Adeeb had never been to a beach, but he smiled knowingly and said he would like it.

“What about you? Where is the best place in Afghanistan to visit?” He began describing rivers and lakes in the north of the country, places in the high mountains, places I knew were not safe to visit anymore.

As we watched streams of people come and go from the buildings around the square, we both became transfixed by a trio of women who did not look Afghan at all. They wore the traditional head coverings, but their faces looked more anglo/oriental than anyone I had seen in Afghanistan, and they were strikingly beautiful. Without my asking, Adeeb knowingly said, “Those women are Hazara.”

Afghanistan is a tribal land. Roughly speaking, the Pashtuns dominate the south and east, the Tajiks the north, and Hazaras can be found in the west. Of course, there are more tribes, but these are the three largest. Now and then you’ll even see a blond Afghan. These people still surprise me, because for years the only Afghans I saw on the news wore turbans and waved AK-47s.

As the trio of girls came closer, Adeeb and I both became very involved in our cigarettes and tried to look cool. The girls smiled and blushed and hurried past. Adeeb is a Muslim, so to be sensitive to his beliefs I refrained from making any jokes about getting their numbers. But he surprised me when he turned and said in his thick accent, “You can look, but don’t touch!”

Slowly relaxing, I lit another cigarette and stuffed my hands in my jacket pockets to keep warm. My eyes continued to dart from face to face. I watched hands, studied passing cars, and kept an eye on loitering people.

A fat Afghan National Army general walked through the parking lot with his uniformed entourage. Standing no taller than 5’3″, he looked like Danny DeVito with his shoulders thrown back and his gut protruding unnaturally in front of him.

I listened to Adeeb gush about Pop Tarts, girls, and soccer. I was impressed when a blind man asked him for money and he quickly handed over a few bills.

The unmentioned tragedy of war is that it forces us to be suspicious of innocent bystanders.

On the one hand, I want to blame the media for making most Westerners think the average Afghan speaks Arabic and wants to join the Taliban. There are good people here. There are people wearing Afghan uniforms who would (and do) die to make their country safe. The people you don’t hear about are the Afghan women who can walk around Kabul without a man escorting them. You don’t hear about the Afghan people who had to secretly watch Titanic on a tiny black-and-white television during the Taliban days, and who now listen to Celine Dion on the radio.

But on the other hand, I have to blame myself for being persuaded that any group of people could be so uniformly hateful. The extremists here have always been a minority — a powerful minority that uses fear and force to do terrible things, but still a minority. Even though I work here, I find myself constantly struggling to remember that the average Afghan wants peace. The unmentioned tragedy of war is that it forces us to be suspicious of innocent bystanders, especially if they happen to be ethnically similar to the people we’re fighting. Standing in that parking lot, I understood in a very real way how that suspicion works, and how distracting and unhelpful it is.

The afternoon continued to pass uneventfully, though I was careful not to become complacent. Adeeb demanded that we take a selfie, and that I hold my M4 assault rifle a little higher to get it in the frame. He wanted to post the picture on his Facebook so his friends would know he was a badass.

Afghanistan has been at war since Ronald Reagan was President, but many think that it is close to becoming self-sustaining. Maybe it’s not, and maybe things are about to get worse. But hanging out with Adeeb, you sure as hell wouldn’t know there was a war on. [image error]

Author’s note: Some names, places, and times have been altered.

The post On standing out in Afghanistan appeared first on Matador Network.

Surreal timelapse from the PCT

THE FOOTAGE taken by Brad Goldpaint (Goldpaint Photography) is from the Pacific Crest Trail which he hiked after his mother’s passing. Of it he says,

This time-lapse video is my visual representation of how the night sky and landscapes co-exist within a world of contradictions. I hope this connection between heaven and earth inspires you to discover and create your own opportunities, to reach your rightful place within two worlds.

Brad used around 7000 photos to compile this gorgeous timelapse.

The post Surreal timelapse shows delicate interplay between land and sky appeared first on Matador Network.

90% of women are subjected to this

WHILE IT’S NOT an excuse, it’s no wonder men and boys are completely clueless when it comes to how big of a deal female sexual harassment is. How many men do you know have been touched inappropriately by women? How many men do you know, who feel unsafe when traveling by themselves? How many men would be unable to fight off a woman, if suddenly attacked by one?

I often feel like the best way to help someone understand a culture, is by immersing them in it. This PSA, created by the UN Women’s Egypt Country Office, is a step forward in helping males understand what it’s like to be a woman in their community. It’s not fair to say that every man in Egypt behaves this way, but 90% is an unnervingly high statistic.

The post 90% of Egyptian women are subjected to what happens in this video appeared first on Matador Network.