JoeJoe Bloggs

Photo essay on our Red Cross visit to Northern Ukraine yesterday

2012-02-14T15:51:00.001+01:00

LudmillaKostrikina, 71, lost her passport and with it her entitlement to a 100-euromonthly pension. Since then, she’s been sleeping in a doorway for eight monthsin the Northern Ukrainian town of Chernigiv. “Soon this damn winter will endand will be spring again”, she said.

UkraineRed Cross nurse Olga Demyanchenko outside the tent shelter opened by UkraineRed Cross is the northern city of Chernigiv last week.

The centre of the historic city of Chernigiv, NorthernUkraine, where temperatures have fallen to as low as -34 Celsius in the currentcold snap. Over 2,000 people have received aid from the regional authorities, the Red Cross and church organisations in the past tendays. The Red Cross is targeting 375 homeless people through drop in centreswhere they can find warmth, food and clothes.

Homelessmen enjoying a hot meal at a Red Cross centre in Chernigiv, Ukraine. While foodand hot drinks are provided using emergency funds released by IFRC, the localRed Cross cares also supply clothes, boots and even give the men a shave.

UkraineRed Cross nurse Nadezhda Golovach supervises lunch at a centre for homelesspeople established at the beginning of the current cold spell in the city of Chernigiv.

One of the clients at a drop-in centre and soup kitchen opened by Ukraine Red Crossin the northern city of Chernigiv during the current sever cold spell, wheretemperatures have reached -34 Celsius

Ex boxer AlexanderSemenyuk, 52, is one of the homeless community in Chernigiv, Northern Ukraine.He finds occasional work and accommodation at a local monastery, but duringthis current freezing weather he is a regular attendee at a Red Cross soupkitchen, where’s also received new clothes.

UkraineRed Cross nurse Nadezhda Golovach shares a moment with one of the clients at a homelesscentre set up by the organisation using IFRC emergency funds in the northerntown of Chernigiv

The Ukraine Red cross team running a drop in centre for homeless people during the sever cold weatheraffecting the north of the country. Clients can get hot food, drinks, clothes,personal hygiene and stay out of the perishing cold, which is expected to lastuntil the end of the month.

RedCross volunteers in the northern Ukrainian town of Chernigiv go into public places (like the railway station) to find homelesspeople and let them know where they can go to warm up, get hot food and new orsecond-hand clothes.

Ukraine Red Cross staff inside a tent shelter set up in apark in the northern city of Chernigiv which supplies warn drinks, food andclothes to homeless people during the current cold snap which has killed dozensacross the country.

Foodand drinks being prepared on a wood-burning stove at a Ukraine Red Cross homelessshelter set up in a park in the northern city of Chernigiv. Homeless people areinvited to stay from 8am to 8pm, or longer if needed to escape the ferocious-34 Celsius weather,

Local Red Cross boss Oksana Rubets with clinets at the drop-in tent shelter for homless people in Chernigiv

IFRC RELEASES EMERGENCY FUNDS TO HELP 50,000 HIT BY EUROPE’S BIG FREEZE

2012-02-07T22:31:00.000+01:00

A German Red Cross worker talking to a homeless man in Berlin this week. Maurizio Gambarini / EPA

I'm off to Kiev on Sunday to work for a couple of days with Ukraine Red Cross, covering their relief distributions to homeless people and others affected by the big freeze. Here's the press release we issued late today.

The International Federation of Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies (IFRC) has increased its emergency support and operations across Europe as temperatures remain in double digits below freezing across much of the continent.

A total of 576,000 Swiss francs (477,300 Euro, 625,000 USD) is being disbursed from the IFRC’s Disaster Relief Emergency Fund to help national Red Cross Red Crescent societies bring direct relief to some 50,000 of Europe’s most at-risk. More allocations are expected in the coming hours and days.

The organisation is concerned about the plight of tens of thousands of vulnerable people: the homeless, elderly people trapped in their apartments, or those cut off in remote villages. Hundreds of people have died, with Ukraine (131) and Poland (53) seeing the highest death tolls. Fatalities have also been reported as far apart as France and Lithuania. Travel has been severely disrupted, and fatalities have been caused by infrastructural damage such as the dam burst in Bulgaria which claimed eight lives. A group of 40 migrants from Libya, Afghanistan and Algeria were rescued from a forest on the Hungarian-Serbian border by Hungarian police.

National Red Cross societies across the continents are working as part of their governments’ emergency plans, in their role as auxiliaries during crises and disasters.

“We are deeply concerned humanitarian situation affecting the most vulnerable; the homeless, elderly, frail, and those with chronic illnesses”, said Anitta Underlin, Director of the IFRC’s Europe Zone office in Budapest. “This cold snap came on so suddenly and with such intensity that it caught those living on the edge of society by surprise and the needs are immense. The response has been speedy with volunteers working around the clock, however the freezing weather, which is predicted to continue in much of Europe, often makes hard to reach those most at risk and get them the aid they need.”

Funds are being rushed to the Red Cross in Belarus, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Montenegro, Serbia, and Ukraine to purchase and distribute warm clothes, stoves, food parcels and warm drinks to supplement local aid efforts. Hundreds of volunteers have been alerted to help get aid to remote villages and temporary shelters. Red cross Red Crescent volunteers are also taking part in rescue operations, and evacuating elderly or injured persons – often using sleds – to receive medical care.

The IFRC warns that thousands of Europe’s “new poor” may be at greater risk than the long-term homeless as they have not developed the “street smarts” to cope with living rough in such extreme temperatures.

· In Belgium, the Red Cross is giving financial assistance for people who cannot pay their home heating bills, visiting the homeless at night on the street and bringing them hot drinks, warm clothes and food. The Red Cross soup kitchens are in strong demand, and more volunteers are needed to help run them. A call centre has also been opened with a free hotline.

· Temperatures in Malta have not fallen below freezing but he Red Cross has distributed 150 blankets to (mainly African) migrants living in temporary accommodation centres.

· Italian Red cross has opened its headquarters in Rome to shelter 50 homeless people.

· Albanian Red Cross is providing food and clothes to 70 homeless Roma in Tirana and preparing food parcels, hygiene kits and blankets for a further 200 families in hard-to-reach rural areas.

· Bulgarian Red Cross is running a national fundraising campaign to bring aid to those most-affected by the fatal dam burst on February 6 and another breach the following day. Floodwaters may reach Greece and Turkey.

· German Red Cross is active in Hamburg and Berlin, distributing blankets, sleeping bags, jackets and hot drinks to homeless people. In Essen the Red Cross has converted a warehouse into a temporary shelter to supply services to the homeless.

· Hungarian Red Cross has assisted over 4,000 people over the past three days through 15 homeless centres and door to door services in rural settlements. Twelve deaths have been reported in the country during the cold snap.

For more information please contact:

Joe Lowry, Communication Manager, IFRC Europe Zone, Budapest, +36709537712, joe.lowry@ifrc.org

Giovanni Zambello, Communications Delegate, IFRC Europe Zone, Budapest, +36709537712, giovanni.zambello@ifrc.org

Jessica Sallabank, Senior Media Officer, Geneva, +41799481148, jessica.sallabank@ifrc.org

Red Cross responds to Europe's big chill

2012-02-02T09:52:00.001+01:00

Belalrus Red Cross volutneers at work yesterday

When it gets cold in Eastern Europe, it gets really cold and fast. In 2006 Lena and I got married in Kiev - the temperatures plummeted from freezing to minus 30 in six days before the celebrations, and the Russians cut gas supplies to Ukraine at the same time. It was rough for many guests from outside the area, not least my friend Justin's Mexican wife who had barely seen snow before.

But how much worse it must be for the homeless, the elderly, single mothers, young children, or those on the edge of society, not homeless but living in sub-standard accommodation? We posted this story last night on www.ifrc.org

The extreme cold wave gripping Central and Eastern Europe continues unabated, with wind, heavy snow and Siberia-level temperatures – in some areas as low as -32 C –has led to the death of over 80 people from hypothermia and frostbite, caused power outages, traffic chaos and seen the closure of schools and nurseries in parts of Ukraine, Belarus, Poland, Serbia, Romania and Russia.

The majority of the victims are homeless people, already victims of the prolonged economic crisis.

The death toll in Ukraine is edging close to the figure of 47 recorded two years ago in a simlar cold wave.

In Belarus, hospitals in the capital Minsk are seeing an elevated number of people suffering from frostbite and hypothermia.

Red Cross Societies in the countries gripped by the cold have been working around the clock to meet the basic needs of the affected people, with hot meals, warm clothing and blankets.

“Although we expect harsh winters in this part of the world this curent freeze has come towards the end of a mild winter,” said Zlatko Kovac, IFRC representative for Belarus and Ukraine. “Homeless people have been caught unawares and unprepared. They don’t follow long-range forecasts and are extemely vulnerable.”

Just over 140,000 Swiss francs (108,000 Euro, 141,000USD) have been released from the International Federation’s Disaster Relief Emergency Fund (DREF); 46,000 CHF to belarus and 94,000 to its larger southern neighbour.

The money is being used to support 1,500 homeless people in Belarus, via temporary shelters. It will also enable Ukraine Red Cross to respond to its Ministry for Emergencies’ request for support in supplying tent shelters with food items and blankets and to jointly assist the vulnerable people.

In Poland - where five people have died of hypothermia in the last 24 hours, bringing the death toll from the cold to 15 in the last four days - the Red Cross in the west-central part of the country, runs a hostel for homeless people. With a capacity of 59 beds, the venue is now hosting over 65, as more and more are arriving.

The local police force is monitoring gardens and narrow streets in the town of Konin to find the homeless and offer them safe and warm shelter in the Polish Red Cross hostel. The reception centre is receiving strong support from loval citizens, who are contributing blankets, bedding and warm clothes, and from the local food bank, which cooperates with the Polish Red Cross branch in providing daily hot meals.

Look Sharp! Saint Billy joins Southampton

2012-01-31T11:32:00.002+01:00

New Southampton signing, and club legend in the making, Billy Sharp pays a fitting and brave tribute to his late baby son Luey. See below.

Not perhaps the post I should be leading with as I head to Genevato talk about humanitarian diplomacy for three days but cha know what? I can'thelp myself. My little footie team, Southampton FC, is on the way back, and thesigning of Billy Sharp from Doncaster Rovers for about 1.8 million pounds (thatshould perhaps read "t sahnin of Billih Shahp frum Donkasta Rurvers for acouple of million quid") has got me all a-quiver.

Much as I try, (and I am composing this at 10pm on the couch)I can't fully concentrate on my powerpoint on long term planning frameworks andcross-cutting issues as I meander off to contemplate Southampton's potential strike force. Billy Sharp andRickie Lambert up front... and maybe Guly Do Prado as a fearsome third striker?The new Japanese boy on the bench. And why should I not allow my mindto wander? This blog does warn you that I will occasionally talk about thebeautiful game.

Ok. Let's backtrack a little bit so you can understand why I ampurring like a New Forest wildcat at this news, sweet as a stick of rock fromMilford Haven, sunnier than an afternoon on Pennington common.

Backtrack a mere season or so and Southampton were in the dropzone from League on into League Two - pretty it up how you please - but league two isstill Division four. I had been moved to pen this piece SaintsGo Marching Into Oblivion when it really seemed I would no longer havea club to follow. Oh, it was bad enough to plummet from FA cup finalists andUEFA contenders in 2003 to the farce of playing in the first round of the FAcup, to have league games on rainy November nights in snazzy joints like Southend,Rochdale and Yeovil, without seeing the club on the brink of extinction. (Andlet me put it on the record that I feel no joy in our fierce rivals Portsmouthgoing through the same pain right now. Much as we hate the skates, south coastfootball would lose massively if Pompey get wound up. One of my best friends is a Pompey fan.)

We had some good managers and players who were plucked off forplummer posts (and of course the rot started with the Great Evil, Harry Redknappwho just plucked off when the going got tough). And we had some pretty poormanagers, who just about managed to field teams of youngsters while themoney-men bickered, There were some awful boardroom decisions, like bringingrugger man Clive Woodward in to direct football. And the malfeasant presence ofthe horrible Robert Lowe, who confessedin an interview "sometimes I wake my wife up at night and ask am I reallya wanker?"

Rupert. Clive. Not really football names. Which brings me back toBilly Sharp. There's a real footie name. None of your Waynes or Ryans or Rios.Billy Sharp. Like Roy Race or Billy Dane. Or in the real world Nobby Stiles, OrJack Charlton. Blokes who'd tell you they'd snap your neck off and crap downthe hole, and then buy you a beer after the game.

Roy Race and Billy Dane - Proper footie names

I think Billy Sharp is going to be a sensation on the south coast,alongside our boy Rickie, and I think he'll be scoring goals in the Premierleague for us next year too. I am so glad Celtic hung on to Gary Hooper, eventhough we offered silly money for a player who only gets a couple of toughgames a year. Besides, being a Mick I have a thing for he Bhoys of Sallick andthey have performed miracles this season.

Our wobble, which saw us lose the unbeaten run, hive off a load ofpoints and slip from the top of the table seemed to start when we got alittle big for our Predators. Our best players out suspended and injured andwe're talking about bringing in new blood. Unselttling. I watched the gameagainst Leicester, a horrible 0-2 home defeat, and could only agree with thefan who tweeted "team of strangers". But strangers unsettled by toomuch transfer talk.

The bosses, Adkins and Cortese (I won't print their first names,as they are not really footie names either) got their act together and how.An unheralded grab for the man who has been setting lowly Doncasteralight this year succeeded late yesterday.

I think Billy is going to be a club legend for many reasons. Amongthe most important non-technical assests he seems to possess are his brain andhis sense of humour. He suffered the immense personal loss of losing histwo-day-old son earlier this winter, and made a wonderful, brave, manly response.Got his boots on, went out to do his job three days later, and when he scored (abeauty of a volley) he pulled up his jersey to reveal a t-shirt saying"that's for you son". See the video, which made headlines around the world, here. The passion is evident, awesome.

You can be booked, or even sent off, if you have inappropriatemessages on your t-shirt, or if you pull your shirt over your head. Billy wascareful to bring the shirt behind his head, avoiding being booked, and as importantly,avoiding giving the referee the dilemma of cautioning a man for showing suchrare and brave sentiment, dedicating the moment to his lifeless child. Credit too tothe fans and teammates who started the game with a minute of applause to celebrate Luey Sharp's short life.

Incredibly, there were accusations that (at a later game) at leastone opposing "fan" had, with unspeakable inhumanity, chanted somethingabout Billy's loss. In a tweet, Billy said "I didn't hear it. I just heardthem calling me a fat bastard and a Sheffield reject. I wasn't so fatthat I couldn't score the first goal though".

I started this piece saying it wasn't so appropriate on the eve of an important set of meetings for me, but guess what? The examples above are fine gestures of humanitarianism and diplomacy, making Billy Sharp a role model for young people.

Billy, welcome to St Mary's mate. Do the business against Cardifftonight, then bring on the Hammers on Valentine's Day. As Joe Jackson said, you gotta look Sharp.

Hireland: fixing the crisis, one job at a time? I could do that

2012-01-29T19:37:00.004+01:00

Any chance of a start? Yosser Hughes, Icon of the jobless crisis in Tellyland in the 80s.

A modest and relevant proposal on how to kickstart a jobs recovery in Ireland (or anywhere else come to think of it.) This was posted on The (ever better) Journal.ie webiste over the weekend, and as the meeja is supporting it with half a million euro of free publicity, joejoebloggs thought it could also pitch in.

A NOT-FOR-PROFIT jobs creation initiative vowed this week to encourage employers to hire skilled people who are out of work. Hireland.ie was launched just a fortnight ago and already, over 1,500 jobs have been ‘pledged’ by companies around the country.

Today, Hireland’s co-founder Gerard O’Neill explains where the idea came from – and why he and his fellow volunteers think it will work.

There’s a simple psychological insight behind Hireland: people copy other people. Our tastes, beliefs and preferences are influenced by what others like, believe and prefer. It’s only human: we’re social creatures after all.

But what has this got to do with job creation? It all began back in February 2011 when a group of friends – with backgrounds in marketing, media and business – started discussing how best to tackle Ireland’s unemployment problem. They soon realised that we have a communications problem in Ireland not just a job problem: we hear about job losses all the time – monthly live register statistics and all that – but only intermittently about job gains. Sure, the big job announcements get plenty of attention. But most of the time, most of the jobs that are created happen in ones and twos in small and medium-sized companies throughout the country. No fanfare, no press releases.

So the idea was simple: let’s create as much news about the businesses that are hiring as we currently hear about those that are firing. Better still, why not give Irish business men and women the opportunity to publicly state their intentions to hire, thereby inspiring others who might be sitting on the hiring fence to get off it and take on new staff.

It’s back to psychology again: by making people’s behaviour and choices more visible then there is a greater probability that others will be inspired to copy them. It works for brands so why not for employers?

Easier said than done of course. Such a task would require a smart advertising campaign supported by national and local media. Luckily for the group of friends they had other friends: and some of them even worked in national and local media. And so Hireland was born: a campaign aimed at Irish employers and decision-makers, supported by half a million euro worth of free advertising, editorial and marketing from the nation’s television, radio and press owners and a great crew of editors, designers, researchers and project managers.

After just one week of launch, Hireland has already seen over 1,500 jobs pledged by Irish employers on the Hireland.ie website. But we are only at the beginning. The initial campaign will run until the end of February as the message rolls out across different channels, both online and offline.

We’re not asking anyone to hire staff ‘for the good of the nation’

The target is to get 5,000 jobs pledged by the middle of 2012. Hireland will ultimately need more support to achieve its aims as the goodwill support of the media has already been committed to the launch. Future funding will be required to sustain and extend our campaign to get Irish employers copying one another (in a good way, that is!)

Remember, Hireland is a voluntary movement, organised by business people for business people. We are not asking anyone to hire staff ‘for the good of the nation’. Instead, we believe (and our research shows) that it makes good business sense to hire sooner rather than later.
Firstly it sends a message to your customers that you will be able to do more for them. It also sends a message to your staff, one that will boost morale. Finally it sends a message to your competitors: you’re hiring and growing so watch out…

But we will get there: we have already demonstrated the extraordinary appeal of the Hireland message in these difficult times. Hireland shows how that we must switch from tunnel vision – with its focus on problems – to ‘funnel vision’, focused on opportunities. It is only by seizing the opportunities that we will solve the problems that we face.

All recessions end in recovery and so will this one. We’ll get there one job at a time, one sale at a time. So if you’re an employer, go ahead: hire one.

Syrian Arab Red Crescent Sec-Gen shot dead

2012-01-26T15:57:00.000+01:00

This is the last photo taken of Dr Dr Abd-al-Razzaq Jbeiro, President of the Idlib branch of the Sryian Red Crescent, who was shot and killed yesterday in a vehicle clearly marked with the Red Crescent emblem. Visit ifrc.org to learn more

Our Red Cross and Red Crescent world is reeling today with the shock news that Dr Abd-al-Razzaq Jbeiro, secretary-general of theSyrian Arab Red Crescent, and president of its Idlib branch, was shot andkilled near Khan Shaykhun on the Halab-Damascus Highway yesterday.

He was travelling in a vehicle clearly marked with the Red Crescent emblem, an emblem protected by International Humanitarian Law which identifies the bearer as coming from the Red Cross Red Crescent Movement and taking no part in hostilities.

Both the International Federation of Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies and the International Committee of the Red Cross called on all those involved in violence in Syria to respect the mission of the Red Crescent, which is to aid and assist people in need in a neutral and impartial manner.

In a message to the President of SARC, IFRC President Tadateru Konoé and Secretary General Bekele Geleta, said they were ready to offer any support the National Society needed. “The loss of such an experienced and committed Red Crescent leader in the course of his humanitarian duties is hard to bear,” they wrote. “Our movement is greatly diminished by his passing."

Beatrice Megevand-Roggo, head of ICRC operations for the Near and Middle East, said that regardless of the circumstances, the ICRC condemned attacks of vehicles carrying the Red Crescent emblem. She told Reuters: "The lack of respect for medical services is still a great issue in Syria."

In the last 10 months, staff and volunteers from the national Red Crescent society have played a vital role assisting the injured and also supporting those affected by the violence with food parcels, hygiene packs and provisions for children.

The President of SARC has submitted an official request to the Syrian authorities to investigate the death of Dr Jbeiro.

Storm in Kosovo causes misery for thousands

2012-01-23T15:46:00.001+01:00

We received this report from our woman in Kosova, Vjosa Macula, late last week. I was really impressed with the way she wrote it, given that she is neither a writer nor a native English speaker. I felt she captured, better than many professional communicators, the terror and the sadness of a common-place event like a violent winter storm.

I could really feel how it must have been for the mother, standing on the roof trying to patch up the storm damage while her kids cried below at the loss of their schoolbooks.

For us, growing up in a fairly affluent suburb, losing our schoolbooks in a storm would be better than telling the teacher "the dog ate my homework". But for these poor kids, many of them from the Roma community, losing their books was a tragic event.

The one glimmer of good news is that we, as an organisation, were able to respond quickly to this unpublicised and localised disaster, and give local people not just material aid, but a sense of solidarity. Not surprising really, when you recall that the local Red Cross volunteers are part and parcel of the affected community - not just here but worldwide.

The story first appeared on www.ourworldyourmove.org

Damaged homes in Istog, Kosovo

The first thing I noticed when we arrived at the town of Istog was the huge trees uprooted by the storm and lying like fallen dominoes. It was like a scene in the movies. While I was here to see the after-effects of the severe weather, poverty was the first thing I noticed. People were living in a miserable old barracks which had been battered by the strong winds. I could also see some newer houses were the roofs had been half torn off and people on the top trying to cover the gaps.

I realized the truth in the saying that disasters can hit anyone; rich or poor. Disasters have no borders.

One of houses I visited with local Red Cross staff looked quite nice from outside, but when we entered we were able to see that only one room was habitable. A 45-year-old woman was living there with her four children and her mother-in-law. They live on social assistance, and the oldest son is disabled.

Her late husband’s brother – who lives abroad – helped them to build the house but was not able to finish it all. We asked her about how they spent the night of the storm. “We’ve never lived through anything like that before,” she said. “We all woke up at the same time from the terrible noise coming from everywhere, and then suddenly we started hearing the roof cracking. We also thought it was an earthquake at the same time. We felt like the earth was shaking as well.”

A young boy warms himself on a fire near his damaged home in Istog, Kosovo

The next family we visited had a similar story to tell. Sinavere is a single mother with four children, living on a meager social assistance. From the Roma community, her house was not in good shape even before the storm and now it looked very sad. It was freezing cold in there. Two of her children go to school while the other two are still babies, still clinging to her.

She said: “I am so happy we went that night to my parents. It’s stronger than house but even there we were scared. When I came home next day I was shocked when I saw what happened to my house. If we had been there that night some of us would have been injured for sure.

“You see the roof? I climbed there and put some tiles back. I don’t know if I put them right but I couldn’t wait for rain or snow with no roof. The Red Cross was the only organization that visited me immediately and discussed with me the damage the wind caused as well as my immediate needs and I would like to thank them.”

Another family, again with four children, lives in a old barracks. Their roof was also blown away but they found some pieces on the field and tried to fix it. “While I was afraid that the wind will take the whole building, my children started crying for their school books and notebooks that the wind took away,” said the mother.

The storm is just another blow for so many similar families in Kosovo which – so many years after the conflict – still suffer from the deep socio-economic crisis.

Remembering Raoul Wallenberg

2012-01-17T12:13:00.001+01:00

Picture of a tribute to the Jews who were sent to their deaths from Budapest in the 1940s or killed by the Danube. This photo was on Carl Bildt's Twitter feed this morning, Raoul Wallenburg day

Most days Idrive or walk past the monument to the great humanitarian Raoul Wallenberg,which is at the bottom of the hill from our home in Budapest. I know he is apersonal hero of my friend and colleague Maude Fröberg, and as it is his daytoday I publish a short tribute to him.

Born 100years ago, the Swede Wallenberg arrived in Hungary in 1941 when his businesspartner, a Hungarian Jew, found it impossible to travel there due torestrictive, Nazi-inspired laws.

By 1944 therewas a humanitarian crisis in Hungary, where the plight of the Jews was morewell known than in other lands. President Franklin D Roosevelt despatched anenvoy to Stockholm and, to make a long diplomatic saga very short, Wallenberg eventuallygot to Budapest where he started the process of issuing protective passports toJews in danger of deportation. These were not strictly legal but were generallyaccepted.

With themoney raised by the US government's War refugee Board, Wallenberg rented 32buildings in Budapest and declared them to be extraterritorial, protected bydiplomatic immunity. He put up signs such as "The Swedish Library"and "The Swedish Research Institute" on their doors and hung oversizeSwedish flags on the front of the buildings to bolster the deception. The buildingseventually housed almost 10,000 people

The followingeyewitness account, from driver Sandor Ardai, illustrates how personallyWallenberg took his responsibilities and gives an indication of the truegreatness of the man.

"... heclimbed up on the roof of the train (bound for Auschwitz and began handing inprotective passes through the doors which were not yet sealed. He ignoredorders from the Germans for him to get down, then the Arrow Cross men beganshooting and shouting at him to go away. He ignored them and calmly continuedhanding out passports to the hands that were reaching out for them. I believethe Arrow Cross men deliberately aimed over his head, as not one shot hit him,which would have been impossible otherwise. I think this is what they didbecause they were so impressed by his courage. After Wallenberg had handed overthe last of the passports he ordered all those who had one to leave the trainand walk to the caravan of cars parked nearby, all marked in Swedish colours. Idon't remember exactly how many, but he saved dozens off that train, and theGermans and Arrow Cross were so dumbfounded they let him get away withit."

His story, asmany know, has a tragic and mysterious ending. He was reportedly murdered enroute to the Red army HQ in Debrecen on this day in 1945, summonsed by marshal Malinvsky. Other accountsput him in Moscow's notorious Lubyanka prison (another landmark I used to walkpast, or take the subway under, most days on my way to work between 1999 and2001.)

Hungarian postage stamp paying a stark and poignant tribute to Wallenberg

He may havedied here in 1947, of "heart failure", the euphemism for tortured todeath or shot, and his body cremated without autopsy.

But severalformer prisoners have claimed to have seen Wallenberg after 1947. In February 1949, former German Colonel Theodor von Dufving, whilein the transit camp in Kirov, en route to Vorkuta, encountered aprisoner with his own special guard and dressed in civilian clothes. Theprisoner claimed that he was a Swedish diplomat and that he was there"through a great error."

Renowned Nazihunter Simon Wiesenthal searched for Wallenberg and collected severaltestimonies. For example, British businessman Greville Wynne, who wasimprisoned in the Lubyanka prison in 1962 for his connection to KGB defectorOleg Penkovsky, stated he talked to, but could not see the face of, a man whoclaimed to be a Swedish diplomat. Efim (or Yefim) Moshinsky claims to have seenWallenberg on Wrangel Island in 1962. An eyewitness asserted that she had seenWallenberg in the 1960s in a Soviet prison.

During aprivate conversation about the conditions of detention in Soviet prisons at aparty reception in the mid-1970s, a KGB general is reported to have said that"conditions could not be that harsh, given that in Lubyanka prison thereis some foreign prisoner who had been there now for almost three decades".

The lastreported sightings of Wallenberg were by two independent witnesses who saidthey had evidence that he was in a prison in November 1987.

ASwedish-Russian working group was set up in 1991 on Guy von Dardel's initiativeto search eleven separate military and government archives from the formerSoviet Union for information about Wallenberg's fate.

RaoulWallenberg's half-brother, Professor Guy von Dardel, a well-known physicist,retired from CERN, was dedicated to finding out his half-brother's fate. He travelledto the Soviet Union about fifty times for discussions and research, includingan examination of the Vladimir prison records.

Over theyears, Professor von Dardel had compiled a 50,000-page archive of interviews,journal articles, letters, and other documents related to his quest. Many,including Professor von Dardel and his daughters Louise and Marie, do notaccept the various versions of Wallenberg's death. They continue to requestthat the archives in Russia, Sweden and Hungary be opened to impartialresearchers. Wallenberg's niece, Louise von Dardel, is the main activist inthe family and dedicates much of her time to speaking about Wallenberg andlobbying various countries to help uncover information about her uncle.

In 2009,reporter Joshua Prager revealed in the Wall Street Journal that Raoul's motherand stepfather both committed suicide by overdosing on pills two days apart in1979. Their daughter Nina Lagergren, Raoul's half-sister, attributed theirsuicide to their despair about never finding their son.

Nina'sdaughter, Nane Maria Lagergren, married Kofi Annan

MLK and me (and U2)

2012-01-16T15:20:00.002+01:00

It's MartinLuther King Day. As iconic figures go, they don't come bigger than he, and aswith many cut down in their prime we can only wonder what influence he wouldhave wielded on the world had he been allowed to live. He is an inspiration formillions, even 44 years after "shot rang out, April sky". Hisinfluence extended to Ireland, as westruggled to find a way out of the dark decades of the Troubles. Nobel prizewinner John Hume affirming " He was an enormous influence. He was verystrongly committed to his approach to non-violence, even when you were beingbeaten on the streets, the message was don’t retaliate. Let the world see whothe real aggressor is."

Sadly,thousands of lives were lost before the message was truly heeded, but today weare close to half a generation into a peaceful Ireland.

I've atenuous reason to feel closer to Martin Luther King than some, my (almost)namesake was one of his contemporaries, the wonderful nonagenarian Dr JoeLowery, who led the benediction at President Obama’s inauguration. See a past joejoebloggs post for more on that.

I've linkedto a video of U2 performing their tribute songs Pride and MLK Croke Park Dublinlast summer. Many readers will know why this is an important place to stressnon-violence, if you don't, read up on Sunday bloody Sunday.

The clip goeson to an empassioned speech from “Arch” Tutu, it also features Bono advocatingfor the release of Aung San Suu Kyi – now a reality, though it seemed far awayin 2009.

Lampooning U2is a national sport in Ireland, but I submit no other band comes close to themfor passion, longevity and - to an extent - musicianship. Certainly no band inhistory has had the profile of these middle-age, middle-class Dublin dads, orperhaps ever will.

MLK is searedin my memory because I saw U2 perform it on one of the strangest days of mylife, the day Diana died. The day has become almost a pastiche of itself in themind, but transport yourself back to where you were when you heard, and how therest of that day and week unfolded.

I took a businto Dublin that day, on the route I took to school every morning a decade anda half previously. Three stops before the stadium, outside the British embassythat had been burned down in the 70s, that had been the focus of many angryrallies, people were laying flowers.

People in thestadium were wondering if Bono would make a speech in tribute, the sort ofcringe-worthy rambling paean for which he had been rightly pilloried in thepast. In fact, Dublin columnist and former Milwall footballer Eamon Dunphy hadinvented the word "Bonospeak" to describe a worthy tirade whichultimately said not a lot.

So, towardsthe end of the gig - perhaps at the very end - on a hot summer night, fourWarholesque pictures of Diana appeared on the screen behind the band. AndBono's voice, uplifted in song, for once unforced, not over-egged by hispassion, floated out on the gentle breeze. "Sleep, sleep tonight".

40,000 peoplewept as one. For a British princess. For a mother, for a woman who had brokenfree of the golden cage that held her, who wore the Red Cross emblem withpride.

Dr King wouldhave approved.

Ireland overrun with asylum seekers? Believe half of what you read and less of what you hear

2012-01-12T14:33:00.000+01:00

Was back in Dublin, my home town, for a couple of weeks recently and was struck by the way the place hasn't changed. It's a bit like the Celtic Tiger never happened. And it's a better pace for it. Health care is lousy and expensive (despite the excellent medics that provide it), groceries are expensive, the weather is much better than you remembered, the sea air does a body good, and the mates are a little older but wearing the years well and still the best people in the world.

The economy is at the bottom of the pan, and ordinary decent people are scraping to make it through. Thousands are sailing, and a select few are pissing their pants laughing as they wrangle their way to fortunes, go bankrupt, stash the cash in the Caymens and start again. But the conspicuous consumption has by and large stopped. (Consumption... not long ago it meant counging yer lungs up, but sin sceal eile). We have gone back, in some ways, to being the people we were famous for being. Once again we seem happy with a few pints, some tall tales, a song and a spiceburger, rather than a Cabbernet Sovingyon and Taggliatelly Cora-Bonora and a slideshow of the new apartment in up and coming Tirana.

What has changed is the number of people from overseas living in Ireland. As far as I could see, good people all, working in hospitals, driving taxis, behind the counter in the bank, just doing what they have to do to earn a euro, and often taking the jobs that the Irish never wanted. Of course there are anecdotes about the Nigerian woman who gave birth at the airport, or the Romanian family of 20 living on a roundabout but I can honestly say I never met anyone who's life has been negatively affected by an asylum seeker in Ireland. Comment below if you know different.

But it irked me to hear that the place was full of asylum-seekers, sponging off the state, sneaking into our land of saints, scholars and... oh... welcomes to scab off our super-generous welfare system. More than once I heard "if you go up O'Connell Street you won't hear a word of English spoken".

Here's a good piece from the Journal that tells the truth. More than that it gives us something to be proud of: that our state fulfils its legal obligations towards the tiny number of people who have here because they have been tortured or persecuted in their home countries, that we deport those that we find fraudulent, and that we refuse entry to many people who are, as we say, taking the mick.

And the conclusion, hard to avoid, is that the media panders to ignorance and prejudice to fuel a non-existent story, to sell papers.

From thejournal.ie, which I enjoy more every time I read it.

How many read or heard the news that over 25,000 people from 112 countries applied last year to be citizens of a state with a banjaxed economy? Or that 164,000 people from outside the European Economic Area, most of them from India, applied to live in that state?

It would seem newsworthy to report that so many people from so many countries would want to become citizens of such a state. After all, one would expect people to be leaving an economically challenged country.

But it is Ireland, in fact, that is the aforementioned economically troubled state. However much distraction was caused by the fact that Ireland was supposedly overwhelmed last year by 1,250 people who came here seeking protection from tyranny, torture and fear; the much maligned asylum seeker.

It is amazing that those 1,250 applications for asylum made up barely one percent of the 164,000 applications for visas, citizenship and protection received by the Irish Naturalisation and Immigration Service in 2011 – however they received the most attention.

The phrase “missing the wood for the trees” springs to mind when looking at how the media covered Minister for Justice Alan Shatter’s statement on immigration in Ireland in 2011. The Irish Times put on its front page on Wednesday that the number of asylum seekers had fallen due to the recession and tougher controls. The Irish Independent reported that over 4,000 people were deported from Ireland in 2011. Actually only 280 people were deported. The other 3,700 people were refused entry to the state when they arrived at our airports. Radio stations and news websites used the Irish Times report and focused on the number of asylum seekers rather than other aspects of the statement.

In a wide ranging statement from the Minister, there was much to report. There was, for example, the more than 25,000 people from 112 countries applying to be citizens, the fact that our cash-strapped state earned €29 million from issuing visas and other registration fees, or that 32,000 non-EEA people resident in Ireland are students who attend our financially beleaguered education institutions and pay international fees.

The announcement that through the visa waiver programme Ireland is targeting particular key tourism markets (i.e. countries such as Brazil and China) to encourage people who intend to visit London during the Olympic Games this year to also visit Ireland. Another little reported story is that civilian staff will perform immigration control at the airports instead of Gardaí. There was ample material in the Minister’s statement to report on but for some reason the media chose to focus on a tiny portion of the migrants who arrived in 2011.

When the media chooses to focus its attention on those seeking asylum it perpetuates many of the false ideas about asylum seekers, such as the simplistic assumption that all asylum seekers are simply economic migrants abusing the system to gain access to the labour market.

At the Spiritan Asylum Services Initiative (SPIRASI) we provide services for survivors of torture and others who have been subjected to serious human rights abuses, to work with them to overcome the impact of their experiences. Of the 1,250 people who sought asylum in the state in 2011 14 per cent were referred to our Centre by medical and legal professionals and were clinically assessed and admitted to our services. We have cared for over 3,200 people since 2001 and have an active caseload of 700 people – men and women, who have survived some of the most unimaginable atrocities that leave deep physical and mental scars.

It is simply wrong to assume that all asylum seekers are faking it so that they can avail of better economic opportunities.

The further injustice caused by such reporting is the perception that all immigrants are asylum seekers. Asylum seekers are a tiny minority of the larger non-EEA national group that currently reside in the state, which has been estimated in the statement at 130,500 people; of this group asylum seekers in direct provision constitute only 5,400 or 4.1%. The next time you see or interact with someone from a non-EEA country the overwhelming possibility is that they are a student or economic migrant, not an asylum seeker.

It is understandable why this happens. Asylum seekers are a soft target. They are vulnerable and completely dependent on the state. By law, asylum seekers are forbidden to work, and are by design, forced to avail of direct provision accommodation. This makes them open to accusations of sponging off the state or being indolent or lazy. Asylum seekers have absolutely no power to change their situation and are subject to the policies of the state. There is no negative fallout to bashing asylum seekers at a time when sentiment, understandably, is to look after ourselves before others.

It is time for the debate and discussion around these issues to become much more rooted in fact and less concerned with the sensationalistic marginalisation of a very vulnerable group.

Greg Straton is the Director of the Spiritan Asylum Services Initiative (SPIRASI) based on the North Circular Road in Dublin which assists asylum seekers and refugees. It is the only organisation in Ireland that provides care for survivors of torture.

A proud godfather and uncle!

2012-01-12T09:29:00.000+01:00

This from today's Irish Independent. Well done Mary, well done Togher. Wise beyond your years.

WHAT'S in a name? Quite a lot, according to budding young social scientist Mary Hand.
The 14-year-old second year student at Our Lady's College in Drogheda, Co Louth, used her own Christian name in an experiment to see whether people pre-judge others based on their names alone.
And her findings, revealed on the opening day of the BT Young Scientist and Technology Exhibition at the RDS in Dublin yesterday, speak volumes about the way we view strangers based on their names.
Using a list of the top 10 most popular names in 2010 and in 1960, she asked respondents to assign characteristics to the names.

She found that the more traditional names like John, Mary and David were received positively, while "trendy" names like Ethan and Jackson were regarded much more negatively.

"For whatever reason people prefer old-fashioned names," she said in her stall at the 48th annual science fair yesterday.
A poll of teachers she conducted also revealed the same prejudice.
"When they read the classrolls of students they hadn't seen before they would say 'that person is going to be trouble' just because their name was a bit more modern or sounded different," she said.
Having a name like Mary herself has been both a blessing and a curse, she added.
"People treat me as though I'm an adult sometimes. I'm expected to be mature and responsible -- especially if they just hear my name, they think I'm older," she said.
"I feel awkward telling someone my name is Mary because I think they're going to treat me that way," she said.
A few booths over, transition year students Chloe Kilmartin (16) and Natasha Conteh (15) asked the burning question: "What goes through the minds of teenage girls?"
Not much, according to their findings.
The students from the all-girls Scoil Mhuire Gan Smal in Roscommon surveyed fellow students aged 13-16 on the top 10 thoughts that occupy their minds each day compared with their colleagues at Roscommon Community College.
Not surprisingly, boys ranked at the top of both lists, followed by their appearance, friends and social outings.
"The least thought-about thing was politics," said Ms Conteh, adding that thoughts of school and careers also ranked near the bottom.
Among the 1,200 students at the exhibition -- who are being quizzed by judges on their projects for the coveted title of BT Young Scientist of the Year -- was Enya McNamara (15) and Nora Spillane (13).
The transition year students from Colaiste Choilm made some startling discoveries about the hidden dangers lurking at make-up counters at department stores and pharmacies across the country.
They set out to find if brushes used by make-up artists harbour hidden bacteria and other germs.
Their answer was a disturbing yes.
The majority of brushes that they swabbed tested positive for dangerous bacteria like streptococcus, which can cause serious infection, especially if it enters the bloodstream through a cut.

Meanwhile, the exhibition, which opens to the public today, was launched by Taoiseach Enda Kenny yesterday and he encouraged the students to pursue a career in science.

"I very much hope that some of the projects researched and exhibited here today will be the start of yet more ground-breaking discovery, innovation and application," he said.

- Allison Bray

Haiti - Memories two years after the quake

2012-01-10T13:57:00.004+01:00

Two years ago I switched on Euronews at 8am Minsk time and saw a Cathedral collapsed, fires all over a destroyed city, bodies in the street. A scene of apocalyptic mayhem. The pictures were coming in live, without commentary and my brain scrambled to analyse what was happening and where. As the people running confused, mourning, were black I first thought it was a war in Africa and then quickly realised it was Haiti, and this must be an earthquake. The newscaster soon confirmed this.

As I walked across the car park in front of our apartment my phone rang. Paul Conneally, our head of media in the Red cross in Geneva. "Are you ready to move?" he asked. (his excellent account of his pioneering use of social media in a disaster zone is on his blog

Paul got on a plane and headed for Haiti to spearhead the media response. By the time I joined him a few days later, the awful first response had wound down. I did not have to endure the horror of seeing human remains piled in the street, nor have Vicks smeared under my nose to stave off the stench of death.

But still, my time in Haiti remains as the highest-octane, intense, physically-punishing and professionally rewarding stints in my 19 years in humanitarian response. That response has been patchy at times, misguided at times, but I believe from an institutional point of view it has been intrinsically correct. We did two things in Haiti - put the Haitian Red Cross centre stage, and also started long-term recovery from day one.

It's easy to commend a humanitarian organisation and its staff and volunteers for leaping into the fray, trying to save as many lives as possible. It's equally easy to criticise misguided efforts, abysmal coordination, mis-spending of funds, lack of involvement of the host community, shipping in superstars and so on. But, as I constantly remind people, disasters are called disasters for a reason. If affected communities could cope there would be no need for external support. And when the infrastructure of an already deeply-impoverished country tumbled in minutes - well, if no external support is forthcoming then mere anarchy is unleashed.

I was fortunate to travel into Haiti with Will Rogers, a global authority on beneficiary communications. Will is an occasionally irascible Aussie whose language would make a navvy blush. His intuitive mastery of his art, and his incredible sense of humour was oxygen to me. And having a handover from Paul C himself, to literally put on his clothes and take over his role was a privilege and a daunting task. The team of communicators I walked into, Morten from Norway, our Caribbean star Gennike, Noora from Finland, German Red Cross Freddy, who had access to a fridge to cool water or something fizzier, Mori from Japan, who I worked with two years previously in Myanmar.... and the big guns on the relief side. Big Paanu, who said little but said it better than any spokesman. Our bossman Andre, a veteran from the area, under massive pressure but always ready to listen. American Steve who played jazz deep into the night into the little shack that housed fifty or so makeshift workstations. Jean-Pierre, team leader, calmness personified, coolness in human form. And so many more. The tecchies who got internet up and functioning. The watsan people who were bringing a million litres of clean water a day to P-au-P within days of the calamitous quake.

And the unheralded heroes. The dozens, the hundreds of Haitian volunteers who left their shattered city before dawn to queue to work as volunteers to help their communities. Who watched an increasingly fatigued 100 or so expats wake from their tents pitched on rocky soil, to do their ablutions in a condemned outhouse. Two stinking latrines and one rarely-working shower. Our choice: to wash and shit in the morning to feel fresh for the 16-hour day ahead, or to wait till the night and expunge ourselves of the cloying dust and sweat that would fetter us all day?

Even if the ground we slept on was rough, there was a level playing pitch. Ourselves and the Haitian Red Cross people, sleeping under the sky, without ready access to sufficient food or water. Of course the difference was that we would leave, that we had not lost friends and family, that our country had not been battered to its knees. But there was a great sense of solidarity, more than I have experienced in many disaster locales. Jean-Pierre, head of communications in Haitian Red Cross, Madame Gideon, the tireless and dignified President of Haitian Red Cross, who seemed to be everywhere, visiting the highest officials, meeting the people, crying and thanking God as she held a newborn, who would never have survived had the German Red Cross field hospital not been functional. The team she inspired, form her officials to our sweet driver Coriolan, who took us to the roughest, hardest-to-reach places in Port-au-Prince and beyond.

An impromptu video blog shot by Norwegian Red Cross photographer Olaf Saltebones in Leogane, January 2010

They are the ones who will ultimately bring Haiti through. Them, and their colleagues who never gave up, who found people alive two weeks after the tragedy. This country has been to hell and not quite back, but it has a magic that is apparent to those of us who were briefly touched by it. I have so many memories, I wrote and photographed so much that it would take more than a short blog post to give true voice to my feelings, two years after I was a small part of a big action.

But one of the reasons I blog is to use my voice to speak for those who have no voice. So this one is for the ghosts that wander over PaP this week. The missing, the lost, the forgotten, those whose desks, classrooms, kitchens are bereft of the happy person who was once there, who completed a family unit. The pain goes ever on for their loved ones, transferred to temporary dwellings that risk becoming new slums. It is heartening to see that the world has not forgotten Haiti, but painful to see the slow place of progress.

I'm taking the liberty of closing with a piece that moved me as I researched and wrote it. As I missed the love of my children, in that field far away in the Caribbean I met an extraordinary boy, my namesake. Here's his story. Think about Joe and he hundreds like him today, pray if you will, but never forget.

Joe, the boy from nowhere

The first time we saw four-year-old Joe was heartbreaking.

He was barely able to sit, wiping crumbs off the little cardboard mat that had become his home. He cleared a space to sleep, like his mother would have done, his eyes rolled back in his head, and he slumped into a daze.

Joe came from nowhere. Someone noticed him lying naked on the ground and he was brought to the Norwegian Red Cross field hospital in the centre of Haiti’s shattered capital.

Mageli St Simon, a Haitian National Red Cross Society psychological support volunteer, started taking care of him. “His head was injured,” she says. “And he was sick, maybe malaria, maybe typhoid.”

Mageli started to interact with the sick child and, after a day or so, she’d got his name. She gave him a pen and paper, and he drew his mother and father.

Then she gave him a toy phone.

“He started speaking to his mother. I asked him what she was saying. He told me: ‘She says don’t look for me, I’m dead’.

"I don’t know how he knew, someone must have told him before he got lost.”

Three days on, Joe’s doing well. He's still sick, but is taking water and a little food. He draws us a cross. I tell him my name is Joe too, and he gives me a long, deep look.

He’s a beautiful, fragile little boy, with a slight squint that makes him look even more vulnerable; makes you want to protect him.

Mageli agrees. “You have to really know yourself before you know other people,” she says. “That’s why I take care of Joe, to know what he needs. I can’t give people any money, but I can help in my own way.”

If Joe has no family members who can take on the responsibility of caring for him, the little boy will go to an orphanage as soon as a suitable organization working with orphans can be found. And he’ll do fine. He’s a survivor.

Reasons to be cheerful, parts one... two ... three

2012-01-09T15:54:00.006+01:00

The new year has started, and I find myself, unaccountably yetjoyously, in an irresistibly good mood. I've no job security, I have debts, Ihave a young family, car loan, mortgage, aches, snuffles, cravings, andhypertension. it's cold and dark when I wake up and when I walk home from work,there's a Hungarian recession turning into a crisis outside the door, butsomehow, some somehow, I feel buoyed up and full of lust for life and theliving and the loving of it.

I even have that most dangerous of feelings that something good isgoing to happen. I feel like I’m walking past a bakery on a cold day, enwrappedwith that gooey warm rush of warm damp dough and cinnemon and raisins. Like thehit from a good coffee, or the hoppy zing of a cold beer on a hot day, when itraces down from your throat to your ankles and suffuses you with an obladiobladah chill.

A friend on facebook, actually someone I've only met once, but shemust be a good person, posted this today, which contributed to my merry mood: "Accordingto psychologists, the subconscious mind does BLINDLY what it is told [itdoesn't think, judge, reason, argue], what it hears from you or from anyone, behe or she a friend or an enemy, whether what it hears is good or bad, right orwrong, a joke or serious talk... One day we think that one thing is bad; thenext, we think that it is good. Things remain the same. They do not change.What changes is our mood."

Aye, life can be a vale of tears at times and despair is onlyround the corner but fish philosophy as expounded by the fish cleaners inSeattle market can help us reach over the dark towers and soar. Fishphilosophy? Introduced to me by the wonderful and indefatigable PamelaLupton-Bowers: Be there, play, maketheir day and choose your attitude.

Gortmahone's finest fish philosophers

So, randomly but sort of chronologically, things that have madethis day divine.

· Watching the Royle family with herself on the couch last night

· A good sleep and wakening from a mundane but happy dream.

· Barry's Irish tea and two sugars

· Setting another quit date to stop smoking and detox

· Happy and fresh memories of close friends and family in Irelandover Christmas and New Year (fish and chips, deep black pints, chitty chittybang bang..

· My eldest daughter, sleep-encrusted eyes, struggling to switch herbrain to English, telling me about the night's dreams.

· My youngest's hug, warm and fragrant from last night's bath andher ten hours under the duvet.

· Giving my wife first use of the shower.

· A bracing, invigorating 25-minute walk to work, with BBC worldservice news podcasted into my ears.

· Walking to work in the ridiculously comfortable Ecco boots I gotmarried in, six years ago this month

· Telling my wife I’d get my own lunch but her bringing me a Mexicansalad sandwich and a big juicy orange anyway.

· A good chat with a colleague who cared about my situation.

· A quiet office, with just enough buzz to get me started on clawingback the days "lost" to holidays.

· The realisation that I had easily enough cash in my wallet to paythe car insurance and cable bills.

· Almost last Camel Light accompanied by hot sweet coffee and brightcold sunshine at 11.

· Happy texts from both my sisters.

· Home-made Serbian pumpkin pie to celebrate Orthodox Christmas withthe afternoon coffee

· The sun setting gently over the Buda hills, turning the Danube,far below me from blue to silver and the knowledge that the second half of thewalk home is downhill.

· The sure and certain knowledge that no matter what trials andtribulations the children throw our way this evening that we are surely growingstronger as a family. Three-year-old's tantrums, tiredness, testiness,five-year-old's fractiousness, feistiness and fernickityness can be sated bythe mountains of Russian chocolates that await. It may not be a perfect family,it bears its scars and pain like any, but its ours and we love it.

· The fridge is full, the heating is on, the water in theshower will be hot tomorrow morning.

· And there's porridge for breakfast.

· And sometime while I sleep, if enough people read this I'llpass 10,000 views on joejoebloggs

· And finally this, a great video about a subject that’s close to myheart and very much on my mind today (Jeff, you know why) posted on FB by Irish Red Cross.

Compassion, care and solidarity in the face of violence in Liege

2011-12-15T12:21:00.001+01:00

Panic on the streets of Belgium. A mother and child flee for their lives during a gun and grenade attack on Tuesday

The violence that left Liege's cobblestones splattered with blood reminds us that peace is a very tenuous thing. We congratulate ourselves on our unity in Europe, on the absence of war, its impossibility, and then we do our utmost to unpick the work of generations. It seems we can't even agree to use the same banknotes any more.

We have had war in Europe, it's been a constant all my life. Northern Ireland, Yugoslavia, Nagorno Karabakh. Osettia.. and of course terrorism and mindless acts of violence like the ones in Liege and Florence, hours apart on Tuesday.

The reaction from our increasingly commercialised and sensationalist press is to highlight the differences between communities. To reiterate the untruth that closing borders will lead to safer communities. To search for the foreign name, the darker face, the beard, the dreadlocks, the burka, the hijab.

This helps no one. Isolationism and hiding being the twitching curtain alienates us from each other, reinforces stereotypes and builds obstacles to understanding. And understanding, communities that live in harmony, not fear, is the cornerstone of safe societies.

Belgian Red Cross showed the way on Tuesday. Their staff and volunteers went into a situation of extreme peril to save lives and to comfort the wounded. The clear message they sent, through their bravery and humanity, is that violence will not be met with violence, but with compassion and a firm conviction that we can exist in harmony.

Here's the text that we're about to put on our website:

The quiet Belgian town of Liege is a town in mourning, twodays after a lone attacker killed five people and wounded 120 before taking his own life. Christmasshoppers in the Place de St Lambert werestunned when shooting, interspersed with grenade blasts rocked the square andsent hundreds fleeing.

Belgian Red Cross were among the first to respond, sending seven teams, including paramedics and 15ambulances to treat and evacuate the wounded. Five advancedmedical posts were set up which tended to over 100wounded in the minutes and hours after the attack.

The Red Cross also supplied blood products and appealed todonors to come forward. Meanwhile six psychosocial intervention workers went tothe devastated area to comfort witnesses, the wounded, and family members.

Their reach was enhanced yesterday with the opening of a RedCross blog and forum specifically designed to provide answers and support tothose affected, as well as platform to air their concerns and feelings. Atelephone hotline remains open and those affected can speak directly topsychosocial team members.

The blog is proving immensely helpful, with dozens of peoplealready posting and receiving answers form trained personnel.

“Is it normal to feel shocked even though I wasn’t at thescene of the attacks”? asks one member of the public.

“Yes, of course!” is the reply. “You don’t have tohave been wounded or a few metres form the attacker to have been affected.People can be overwhelmed because they were there minutes before or go thereregularly.”

A parent writes “my children were on the square and havecome back but are very quiet. Should I do something to help? Must they sufferin silence?”

“Your respect for their situation is positive. If yourespect their silence will they understand where you are coming from? You couldsay you know they have had a difficult time, that they are suffering and youare available to talk when they are ready.”

“I was scared for my life. I can never imagine walkingaround without a care. It’s over”

“Don’t force yourself. Go out with friends, where youfeel safe, have a coffee…”

“When I see images in the press or on the internet I canfeel physical sensations in my body. Can I stop it? Will it ever go away?”

“These sensations remind you of facts you’d ratherforget. Your reaction is a show of respect and homage to what happened, like when a tear comes to our eye when we hear a piece of music or see apicture. “

IFRC Zone director, Anitta Underlin, expressed hersolidarity with the people of Liege and paid tribute to the ongoing response.“We are all appalled and shocked at this terrible tragedy. We know that thisholiday season will be difficult for the affected communities, but we know theycan depend on the proximity of their Red Cross to help them through thissaddest hour.”

--------------------------------------

It's also worth mentioning that the Red Cross Red Crescent is gearing up for some major initiative to put youth, as agents of behavioural change, in the forefront of anti-violence actions in Europe and elsewhere.

31 years after his death, John Lennon still inspires

2011-12-09T16:35:00.005+01:00

Very poignant video tribute, especially for those of us from a land between the Mersey and Manhattan

"John Lennon's dead".

I was barely awake that dark December morning, 31 years ago today. My sister's voicepierced the tumult of the wind and rain outside. For a minute I thought she wasbeing monstrously cruel but then she knew that George was my favourite Beatleso if she was teasing me why John...?

No, no. She wasn't teasing. It wasn't inher nature anyway and then when I came out of the bathroom onto the landing andcould see her looking at me, knowing that she was delivering a message thatwould dive into my heart and stay a dull ache all my life. As I looked back ather and saw the pain in her dark brown eyes I realised something profound hadhappened, something different. A personality whose existence, whose immortalityI took for granted, was gone.

Downstairs to where the radio was on. Where my mother was tryingto get three teenagers and one pre-teen ready for school and out the door. Theradio confirmed what my sister had told me. Shot. Dead. Coming home. Yoko nextto him. Mark David Chapman, a name I reviled for years.

Going to school as a cold, wet, grey winter dawn flopped over Dublin. Grownupsin shock. "Did you hear...? Did you hear...? And my tears falling hot onmy teenage face as a gale blasted me the 15 minutes from Lansdowne Road stationto school.

My class of fifteen-year-olds were split into mods, rockers,hippies, brainiacs, classical music fans, punks, heavy metal heads... and meand Tom Clancy, the Beatles nuts. The chatter stopped as I walked into the class.

"Heavy vibes man", said Rory, a Doors fan. He'd beenthere, his idol Jim long dead. Not in his own memory span. My pain was deeperbut I appreciated the sentiment.

Where was Tom? Where was the one person in my school who wouldconfirm to me that I was right to feel such anguish? (Oh God I can feel it now again,31 years on, this pit in my entrails. A whirling whooshing panic, a grey void Icould taste).

Our first class of the day started. After ten minutes or so incame Tom, in his trademark mac and leather gloves. A bit of a nerd, highlyintelligent, soft-spoken with a fringe that flopped over his glasses. He wasspeckled with rain, out of breath from trying to get to school on time andfailing.

"Where's your black armband Zeb" someone asked him. (Hisbrother was Luke, the names of brothers from some long-forgotten Western TVshow.)

Zeb, Tom looked quizzically round and as his eyes met mine I sawhe didn't know.

He didn't know.

I found my voice. I knew I had to say it before the teacher,before anyone. I was the only person in the world at that time who could sayit, could tell him properly.

"John Lennon was shot dead Tom".

(I could cry again, writing this, for the boys we were, for themen we are. For the music we never got to hear).

Tom froze. His body stopped moving. He blinked, blinked again.Like a mole, I thought, not unkindly. Like a mole emerging into sunlight, tasting the air,knowing this is the world but wanting to retreat back, to never emerge and hearthis truth.

"John Lennon's dead?"

Thirty heads nodded. Awestruck.

"He's dead?"

There was a silence, a terrible silence. I already knew. I had known and hadstarted my grieving two hours previously. Tom was just hearing, hearing thisnoise which formed words which formed a punch that froze his body.

"Dead".

Tom sat down, put his head in his hands and the class wenton.

I went into the city centre on an errand after school, I forgetwhat. All the billboards selling the evening papers, all the snatches ofconversation confirmed and reconfirmed and slap slap slap I had to realise thatthis was real, could not be changed, there would never be a Beatles reunion,that the music we had was all we were ever going to have. That my band, TheSwitch, would never play support at the Beatles reunion concert. As dreams go,that was a big one, but it had sustained me for years and now it was gone.

I went home, my dad told me the NY cops had said "Lennon waskilled by a whacko". It was somehow worse. A jealous lover, a mugger, awronged spouse... that could be understood. But someone killing John Lennon becausehe was John Lennon? No. No.

My best friend at the time, my band-mate, my co-songwriter ofLowry and Donnelly compositions was as shocked as Tom and I.

We watched the news, there was only one news item, at least onlyone that we cared about. Our idol was headline news. He'd just come back out ofsemi-retirement, just turned 40 (how old that seemed) and we'd loved the ideaof him Starting Over, with his Woman.

The satirical TV show Not the Nine o'Clock news was on. It was ourfavourite show. I always watched it in the Donnelly house (we were allowed tosmoke there). I turned to John Donnelly: "If they satirise anything aboutJohn I am never watching it again." For half an hour we waited, and ofcourse, nothing bad about Lennon.

As the closing credits rolled, instead of the usual irreverentcomposition about week's news, a black screen. And Lennon’s voice..."there are places I remember....all my life"

We were so impressed - a massive corporation like the BBC had usedone of the prime spots of the week to pay tribute to our hero.

My home was always full of Beatles music. My brother Luke, sevenat the time, knew most of the first part of the 62-66 collection by heart. Hestill loves it, as he approaches 40. Luke has Down's syndrome, and the Beatlesmusic brings him as much joy as it brings me, still. He didn't realise that dayhow sore it was for me to hear Lennon, but how necessary it was for me to getback on the bike, to embrace the pain and celebrate the music.

I fell in love with the Beatles all over again when I went to workin the ex-Soviet Union and realised how much the Beatles meant to people there,how their music was an oxygen of freedom.

So when I saw McCartney play in Red Square in 2003, a stone'sthrow from Lenin's tomb, I felt a release, a surge of joy, especially at thereprise of Back in the USSR.

Lennon was no angel. But he was a genius. Phenomenally, obscenely gifted. There's talk that the world has gone too far in adoring the Beatles.That naming a airport after Lennon was too much. They were only a popband.

They were that, but much more. When a million people sing"All Publish Postwe are saying, is give peace a chance" you know that a man haschanged the world. How much more Lennon would have given we'll never know. Butfor what he gave, for what we have, give thanks. For people and things, that went before.

Dr Sócrates Brasileiro Sampaio de Souza Vieira de Oliveira himself is particularly missed

2011-12-05T10:42:00.001+01:00

Passing tales and glories of Socrates and Dublin town

Dubliners love a yarn, the more outlandish the better. In fact, the more outlandish the more likely it is to be true. Or at least vehemently defended. So for years we have dined out on the story that the former Brazilian football captain, Socrates, who passed away this weekend, played for University College Dublin. After the second or third pint, someone in the bar will overhear, and inform you somberly, if not soberly, that "ach, he wasn't even good enough to make de first team. Wouldn't give up the smokes."

At which point, the guy at the far end of the bar can be relied on to personally know John Giles' brother in law who told him that Socrates togged out for Shelbourne but didn't; last as he had a problem "with his elbow, if you get me drift". The matter may never be cleared up, but the company will satisfy itself that the Brazilian great did indeed play football in our fair city, proof, if ever more was needed, that Dublin is de greadest ciddy in de fookin worruld.

Bar none.

Except of course, it's not true, which doesn't take away from the sadness that any footballing fan feels on seeing this master of the game die young, having lived fast and left a massive imprint on the game.

First to - sadly - debunk the "Socrates played in Dublin" myth. It seems he was himself aware of it, and had to admit that he'd never even been to Annallivia Plurabella.

This from the website of University College Dublin:

An article in The Irish Times from 1986 is the earliest known reference to this alluring tale. It states as fact that Sócrates played for Shelbourne Football Club during his time studying in the “College of Technology, Kevin Street”. ^[1]

It should be said that Sócrates did indeed study medicine while in college but he graduated from the ‘Faculdade de Medicina de Ribeirão Preto’ in São Paulo.

In 2000, the urban legend was given a new breath of life after a question was sent into the Guardian’s soccer ‘Knowledge Department’. The newspaper was asked to investigate the claim that “Brazilian footballer Sócrates … spent some of his student years in Dublin … and (that) he only managed to make the UCD reserve team”. ^[2]

The question was answered by the late Brendan McKenna, former Football Association of Ireland (FAI) Press Officer, who confirmed that “Sócrates did play for UCD … sometime in the 70s.” and by Gerry Callan of The Irish Star who added that Sócrates played only for the reserves because he couldn’t make the first team’s Saturday games.

The Guardian gave the story yet more veracity in 2002 by incorporating new information from a reader that Sócrates quit the team after only “a couple of games because the coach and manager at the time, Dr Terry O’Neill, insisted that he quit smoking”. ^[3] The Mirror also ran a story on Sócrates during this time with the opening line, “Here’s one to stump your mates with. Which Brazilian legend played football for UCD reserves?”.^[4]

The programme for the UCD – St. Patrick’s Athletic game in 2003 featured an article on the Sócrates tale.^[5] It debunked the claim that he played for UCD but went on to allege that Sócrates studied medicine in the Royal College of Surgeons of Ireland (RCSI) in 1976. The article also asserted that he went to the RCSI’s trials for their Collingwood Cup team but decided to concentrate on his studies instead after seeing the poor football abilities of his potential teammates.

The China Daily, an English Language newspaper published in the People’s Republic of China, ran an article in 2006 that described Sócrates as “an alumni of the College of Surgeons in Dublin”. ^[6]

The legend has recently been given new legs by the addition that Sócrates also won the Sigerson cup, the championship of Higher Education Gaelic football in Ireland. This allegation has been posted as fact on various Irish sport Internet forums.

The Sunday Tribune in 2006 did its best to sink the urban legend with the article “Will Sócrates Myth Ever Be Put To Bed?” ^[7] and in its 2008 Sports Trivia Christmas Quiz. ^[8] But with websites such as Footbo.com, still affirming that Sócrates “spent time in Ireland and turned out for the University College Dublin (UCD) team”^[9] ; the legend isn’t going anywhere soon.

But, what matter? We've never been ones to let a good yarn be killed by anything as whimsical as the facts!

Socrates was a grea tof the game - who claimed he'd only taken up football at 24 and was too thin to be any good at it. He smoke and drank but played like an angel. His role in the Brazilian world cup teams of 82 and 86 are etched onto the mind of any fan.

What's less-known is his intelligence and ourage off the field. He was a doctor of medicine, directed a play, wrote two books, and while at During his time at Corinthians he co-founded the Corinthians Democracy movement, in opposition to the then-ruling military government. Sócrates and his team mates protested against the regime's treatment of footballers, and showed support to the wider movement for democratisation, by wearing shirts with "Democracia" written on them during games.^[8] Sócrates has stated that his childhood heroes were Fidel Castro,Che Guevara and John Lennon.^[9]

He had time to father six children, and was unquestionably one of the greatest footballers of his generation. A life well lived.

Nice tribute here http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9w1z2Tz_e-A&feature=related

People like us - for World AIDS Day

2011-12-01T12:57:00.000+01:00

The best project I have ever been involved in. Filmed in Ukraine in summer 2010. Still makes me emotional.

World AIDS Day: HIV infections rising in Eastern Europe and Central Asia

2011-12-01T11:39:00.000+01:00

Sona Gevorgyan, youth volunteer from Armenian Red Cross: “I'm very proud to be a Red Cross volunteer and be a part of a big team who works hard to make a positive change in the lives of people in need. The future is in our hands and today more than ever we are all ready and united to say NO to HIV, but not to the people living with HIV”.

Today is World AIDS Day, a day when we draw attention to the disease which, despite progress, is still one of the greatest public health threats of our time. As we enter the fourth decadein the shadow of AIDS, we see that the world has succeeded in arresting and startedto reverse the spread of HIV, with the number of annual new infections fallingby 21% since 1997.

JoeJoeBloggs joins the call forzero new HIV infections, zero discrimination and zero AIDS-related deaths by running anopinion piece we at the IFRC Europe Zone penned for our Director.

Current figures show that significantprogress has been made worldwide towards universal access to HIV prevention,treatment, care and support, and experience proves that an adequate investmentin the response to AIDS does contribute to a marked reduction in stigma anddiscrimination and facilitates people’s access to needed services and information.This decreases their exposure to risk, and delivers thetreatment that can extend and improve the quality of life of those who areliving with HIV.

But whereas the globalperspective looks encouraging, regional figures show worrying trends. Accordingto UNAIDS data for 2011, Eastern Europe and Central Asia is one of the fewregions where the number of AIDS-related deaths continues to increase, andwhere, over the last 10 years, the number of people living with HIV has morethan tripled, reaching an estimated total of 1.5 million in 2010 comparedwith 410,000 in 2001.

Infections remain concentratedmainly among people who inject drugs and their sexual partners. These groupssuffer most from stigma and discrimination and are pushed further to themargins of society. That drags them into a growing spiral where they spinfurther away from information on prevention, treatment and care.

Which are the expectations forthe Europe Zone in the next three years? The question is: how quickly and howeffectively can Red Cross Red Crescent Societies counter current trends andprogress towards Zero?

The spiral of the HIV epidemicwill be only be broken if we advocate for the removal of legal and societalroadblocks, protect drug users from HIV infection, promote harm reduction, fightagainst stigma shown to the most vulnerable groups and to those with HIV, investin young leaders, and guarantee universal access to HIV prevention, treatment,care and support to those who are living with or affected by HIV and AIDS.

Universal access, one of thecore goals of the campaign, does not only mean the possibility for allHIV-positive people to get treatment, but also an active responsibility for theRed Cross Red Crescent to encourage and assist people to stick to it and avoidthat anyone be left without proper treatment, care and support.

The Red Cross and Red Crescentmust bring support and assistance to everyone, in peace and conflict, and be abeacon of impartiality for all those in need.

How a racist rant on a tram has led me to bet on a black man managing England's football team

2011-11-29T15:03:00.005+01:00

"Chain racism"; EU publications, 2001 http://www.arvindguptatoys.com/arvindgupta/whatmeracist.pdf

I've just watched the "racist rant on a tram"" clip on youtube, like a couple of million other people. It shows, apart form the obvious boorishness of racism, the power of social media to capture what goes on in society, what we would rather not see.

Someone had the presence of mind to film a lady... scratch that... a harridan... spewing out ignorant racist cant of the "get back to where you came from" variety. She's been arrested. Thanks to youtube.

Her objection to her fellow passengers was that they were not British (although many of them were). In any case, if she is the zenith, or even a sample specimen then who wants to be British?

Several thoughts occur to me, and I swear, I am close to tears after watching this with my lunchtime sarnie. The first: SHE HAS A TODDLER ON HER LAP. Apart from the bad language he's hearing (and I'm no innocent when it comes to an epithet or two in front of my kids, shame on me), it's the passivity of the poor kid that wrecks my heart. Sweet little fellow, almost taking in racism from the breast.

And then the other kids in the tram, they have to listen to it too.

The dignity shown by the targets of her tirade of invective is laudable. They refer to her as "madam", "lady", and ask her so politely to stop.

A peer, white English, steps in, but loses her temper right away, and really makes it no better, coming close to violence and resorting to swearing.

First time I was a minority was in a Navajo bar in Gallup New Mexico. It was really, the first time in my life when there were more non-Caucasians round me than not. People warned us not to go in. But we had a terrific time, playing pool and shuffleboard, sharing some jokes and not a few shots of tequila.

I've been on public transport in Guatemala, Kenya, Azerbaijan, Thailand... no one has ever sworn at me for being white. No matter that it was people of my skin colour that led colonial adventures, profited from slavery, robbed treasures, and even now run the corporations that pay labour a fraction of what it's worth. No one ever calls me a white bastard, or tells me to fuck off back to where I came from. No one stopped me drinking alcohol or going to my church. People let me be, out of respect for our common humanity, I think.

I'm also sorry for the millions of decent Britons who will wince and be outraged when they see this. England, Britain, is a super place. Full of humour, art, learning, wonderful scenery, great football, cricket lovely cricket, whisky, curry, music, writing.... and tolerance.

A few weeks back I was in Peckham, where racial tension spilled over into violence not long before. But I felt safe there, saw how cultures had preserved their identity but were still creating a vibrant community for everyone.

So why did this one woman feel she had to suddenly vent against "blacks and Poles from Siberfuckinniggeragua"?

And how to answer this ugly, brutal, unjustified ignorance?

Towards the end of the clip a quiet voice says "lady, we come over here to do the work for you, you guys don't want to work".

Is that it? Is there a feeling that people who agree to do the manual work that keeps society going are fair game? Because they clean tables, pump petrol, stack chairs, work on building sites, mop toilets?

No, surely not. White people do that too, and are seen as the salt of the earth, the backbone of the community. And surely not again, as the medical profession, finance and other white collar work is full of people from different parts of the world.

One glimmer of hope. And it comes from football, football full of anguish after losing the gentleman Gary Speed on Sunday in an apparent suicide. Lat night Charlton Athletic's manager, Chris Powell brought his team to the top three in Division One. Charlton is far from being a leafy suburb full of nice stockbrokers. It's rough and raw. Chris Powell, who wore the England shirt five times is their manager. And he's black. Incidentally.

I hear England will soon be looking for a new football manager. And this time they'll recruit an Englishman. I'm going to stick 20 euro on Chris. What say you, white lady on tram? Blatterburger and chips?

Elvis lives thanks to TedxRC2 in Geneva

2011-11-28T15:38:00.001+01:00

The speakers at last night's TEDxRC2 event in Geneva last night

Just back from Geneva where I spent a week with the mediateam reporting on the IFRC’s General Assembly. Amazing event really, 187sovereign organisations held together with the sole purpose of making the worlda better place, and setting the agenda for how to continue doing it over thenext two years and beyond. A couple of reflections will follow, but first Iwant to turn my thoughts to another remarkable event which took place indowntown Geneva yesterday afternoon, the TEDxRC2 event. See more here

TED as many of you will know is an organisation that bringspeople with good ideas together, lets them speak, and puts the results on theweb. TEDx is an offshoot of TED which follows the same formula but lets anyonereplicate the idea. And RC2 (RC squared) is the Red Cross Red Crescent, who puton the show.

And quite a show it was. I was able to watch the live stream from myliving-room in Budapest as my great friend and former blartner (that’s blogpartner) Paul Conneally got up to do his thing, speaking about how social mediahas allowed those whom we still call beneficiaries to have a real voice in the reliefthat we self-described aid agencies give them.

It was wonderful to see Paul onstage, particularly as we had discussed and critiqued his upcoming performancelate into Thursday night. Well, as much as two Irishmen can ever really discussand critique I suppose.

His point was pretty simple: although he didn’t use thequote I pressed on him to illustrate his central theme that people were alreadyshaping the agenda with their cellphones from tents in Port au Prince and protestlines in New York. This data is being mapped to give an amazingly precisedetail about what is really needed, not what we think people want.

I wanted him to say ‘Elvis has left the building’. In otherwords, it’s happening, the horse has bolted, the genie is out of the bottle.Get with the programme.

All the speakers were great in their own ways. The politicalcartoonist Chapatte creates cartoon features, high-brow and relevant and speakingthrough sketches more eloquently than many columnists can manage. He used manyof his drawings during his entertaining presentation.

The stream sadly went down towards the end of the excellent presentationon diplomacy, given by Jonas Gare Store, Norwegian Foreign Minister, whose quotewill forever be etched on my cerebellum: “You don’t make peace with yourfriends, you make peace with your enemies.” More quoteworthy but similar toChurchill’s “jaw jaw is better than war war”.

And Fiona Terry of ICRC spoke plain truth when she said thateven though treating a wounded soldier can mean he goes back to the front-lineto kill, it is better than the other option.

But (Paul forgive me, a dhuine uasail) the best, the most impressive,the most loveable speaker of the night came first. Edna Adan Ismail wasco-founding the Somali Red Crescent society when the Beatles were penning “PleasePlease Me”. At 74, this former foreign minister of the (lamentably)unrecognised state of Somaliland, has the energy and the determination of acollege fresher, with her intellect and experienced grafted onto her dynamism.She’s NY Times columnist Nicholas Kristof’s personal hero, and she’ll have mademany new admirers following her webtalk yesterday.

She talked about how she set up a maternity hospital on arubbish dump, About how that hospital ended up treating diabetes, cancer, spineailments, everything, because “it was a hospital”. No distinctions made by thesick, and none made by the doctors. No one was told to take their TB or theirgangrene elsewhere. There was no elsewhere.

Teenagers are alive today because Edna and her staff – all midwives,easily trained and retained – had simple treatments. They had soap and cleanwater. Implements. Training.

Her plea to governments was threefold: Invest in health.Invest in girls. Invest in education. On one night in Geneva she had the stageto give that message, and the applause was deafening, continuous. She came backon to take the applause and man, she earned it.

Verdict? TEDxRC2 was a huge success. The global audience wasnot huge, but it raised the bar, it gave us proof that we, Red Cross RedCrescent, can stand there with the best and the brightest and be listened to.We need more of this, more plain speaking, more standing up to be counted. Lesssparkle and more substance.

Elvis left the building last night; Elvis lives. A whole lotta shakin to come.

Maldivian Red Crescent joins the family

2011-11-24T11:39:00.000+01:00

Jerry Talbot with our mutual friend Bob MCKerrow and A. Frenchman on the Maldives, back in the day.

A big shout out to a wonderful former boss and friend, Jerry Talbot, whose hard work and dedication to a small Indian Ocean country paid off yesterday, with the formal admission of the Maldivian Red Crescent as the 187th member of the International Federation of Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies.

I spent a year in this archipelago nation in 2006, my first year of married life as it happens, reporting on the post-tsunami recovery efforts, getting a taste for curried tuna and roshi, travelling by speedboat and seaplane to work with communities devastated by the disaster (see my musings on Chernobyl and the Tsunami)

As IFRC head of delegation Jerry poured himself tirelessly into the task of helping a diverse set of interests form a working group to create a new Red Crescent society. It wasn't always easy. There were tough and tense (and loooong!) meetings, with a glass of pineapple or coconut juice (and tuna sandwiches) to close at 11.30pm every Wednesday, but little by little and then in great leaps, the group started to mesh and work towards fulfilling the ten conditions needed to be admitted to the Red Cross and Red Crescent movement.
And yesterday a good man, a great fan of Irish literature, Ibrahim Shafeeg led his delegation to its place in the growing Red Cross Red Crescent family. Quite an achievement, by him and his team, to build a Red Crescent society form the ground up in just seven years. we wish them well.

Here's my report of yesterday's event which first appeared on www.ifrc.org

Maldivian Red Crescent officially joins the IFRC at the 18th General Assembly

Published: 23 November 2011 22:37 CET

IFRC President Tadateru Konoe present Ibrahim Shafeeq, President of Maldivian Red Crescent, with the admission certificate at the General Assemly in Geneva yesterday

The Maldivian Red Crescent Society became the 187th member of the International Federation of Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies (IFRC) at its 18th General Assembly in Geneva today.

Having fulfilled all the conditions necessary for membership, the new society was welcomed to the IFRC by President Tadateru Konoé and attendees from 180 fellow National Societies following this morning’s opening ceremony.

The process of forming the new National Society began in the wake of the devastating 2004 Indian Ocean tsunami which affected over 27,000 people in the Maldives. These low-lying islands will be among the most threatened territories should sea levels rise significantly.

Maldivian Red Crescent Society president, Ibrahim Shafeeg, said preparation for another catastrophe is only one part of the organization’s work. “As a member of the National Disasters Council we work with the government on disaster preparedness and response. We are also trying to do more to prevent child abuse, to empower women, to combat drug abuse, and to help young people adopt healthier lifestyles.”

The society is also planning to expand its first-response activities to assist people injured in domestic violence or street fights.

The Maldives is best known as a tourist destination and as one of the best diving spots in the world. Accordingly, the the Maldivian Red Crescent provides first aid training for boat owners and diving schools, and has started awareness and fund-raising among the thousands of tourists who visit its shores each year. It’s 700 volunteers have also been at the forefront in public information campaigns about dengue fever and other communicable diseases.

Speaking after his society was formally admitted, Mr Shafeeg said: “We feel great, like we finally made it. We will go forward faster and full of confidence. We are very proud to be a part of the family.”

Memories of South Africa, a decade ago

2011-11-22T12:05:00.000+01:00

A couple of weeks back, when I posted about the South Africa Arms deal and the impact it had on the country's death toll from AIDS I reminded myself about a trip I took to the Mozambican border area back in 2001, when money was surely being spent on fighter jets that would never fly, rather than getting antiretrovirals to people that needed them. I can't forget the day nor the impression it made on me. A kind soul asked me to reproduce the article I wrote following that long, life-changing day, so here it is. Four days later the world was about to be changed by the moment that defined the decade. It was a week where so much happened to me - flying from Abidjan to Brazzaville to Joburg to Durban to Joburg to Zurich to Moscow to Zurich to Abidjan. A lot of time to reflect.

First printed on www.ifrc.org 7 September 2001. (Since then of course, South Africa has had many triumphs, notable hosting a wonderful world cup. I wish the wonderful country well).

Patricia Segigi leaves home at dawn. Patricia is a volunteer with the South African Red Cross Society in Mabopone, Pretoria. She is one of the many Red Cross and Red Crescent volunteers and staff around the world working to mitigate the effects of the disaster that is HIV and AIDS.

Photo: David Chancellor/International Federation of Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies

Last week, as delegates to the World Conference against Racism talked about discrimination, two hours down the road in Durban, Natasha Scott, secretary of the Red Cross branch in Zululand, her family, and a band of dedicated Red Cross volunteers, were out on yet another visit to those living with HIV/AIDS, under the intense South African sun. For them, talking is fine, but action is better - they're "walking the walk".

"In thirty years' time we're going to see a dramatic drop in HIV infection rates in Zululand". That's the pledge from Natasha Scott, secretary of the local Red Cross branch, as she grits her teeth with determination and drives further into the brick-red mud roads of Zululand. This young mother is part of a Red Cross dynasty - her father is in the car behind with food parcels garnered from local shops, and her mother, local branch chairlady, ill with the flu, has stayed behind but monitors our progress by cellphone.

Using their own cars, not really built for the cratered dusty backroads, Natasha and her co-workers - Nancy, Gloria, sisters Princess and Bright-Lady, Lillian, Victoria, Mizipo and others - are implementing a remarkable programme funded by British Red Cross. While the debates on racism, discrimination and related intolerance rage on in Durban, these volunteers are taking the precious Red Cross messages of impartiality and humanity into the mud huts and townships of Kwazulu-Natal.

And they are making a difference. Behaviour is slowly changing. In a culture where wearing a condom is seen as a form of emasculation, where it is whispered that having sex with a virgin will remove the disease - nine-year-olds have been raped as a result - the task might seem insurmountable. Princess Mchunu (26), a trained teacher, knows thereality. She has seen high-school friends fade away, she knows that HIV/AIDS is scything through her generation. Everywhere you can see grandmothers, weary from the pain of nursing and losing their adult children, struggle to raise orphans, often on a pension which amounts to no more that CHF 10 per month.

Princess explains: "Back in the 80's it was different. People said 'AIDS
kills', so there was panic. People with AIDS were killed or locked away when they disclosed their condition. Now people are used to the sickness but we still have to be careful". Her colleague Lillian nods assent. "We visit people two or three times a week, getting their confidence. Their family gets used to the Red Cross coming to see their sick relative. If they have a positive test we discuss it with them and help them make their disclosure".

This "disclosure" is often made posthumously. One of the first South African AIDS activists to publicly acknowledge she was living with the virus, Gugu Dlamini, was brutally beaten by a mob as a result of her admission, and died. Ten days ago, Simon, a 52-year-old man, passed away after a long illness. He is buried in a thorn-topped grave beside his house, among his relatives. At his funeral, it was announced that he had been taken by an AIDS-related illness. Red Cross workers were among the mourners, and ran an information workshop afterwards.

The task facing these young women seems overwhelming. Local newspapers have claimed the HIV rate is running at 60 per cent. Recently, a nearby maternity hospital recorded 100 per cent positive tests among birthing mothers in a single month. The Port Richard cemetery, built to cater for local needs until 2050, may be full within three years. Young girls are taught to view every single man as HIV positive. And this is just one small corner of South Africa, a tiny dot on the planet's surface.

We visit another home, where a man of 58 lies quietly on his bed, a packet of Panadol his only relief from constant pain. He admires the Red Cross camera, with the eye of aformer professional photographer, we chat. I shake his hand in farewell. He winces in pain at the gentlest touch. His grandniece is outside, smiling, perched on the back of her mother. Both seem a picture of health. As Nancy Khuzwayo, the Red Cross nurse, takes the baby's hand the child cries out. Nancy can't help a sad, wistful smile."Ah, she remembers me taking a blood test from that hand." The test was positive. The mother's too.

It's hard to see hope in this vibrant, lush land. Outside children kick a football, raising a red dust from the hot earth. Hips sway on every street corner to tinny, dizzy music. The elderly sip bootleg booze at wayside shebeens. Everything seems to be as it should. Yet every home, it seems, hosts a battered armchair, where a tired young person is waiting to die.

Meanwhile Natasha and her colleagues muddle, struggle and battle on, hoofing it from door to door when the potholes get too big for the tiny Fiat. They bring pieces of carpet donated by friends to insulate TB-patients' houses from the nocturnal chill; they carry bags of grain donated by local shops. They think about seeds for doorstep gardens, ways to encourage local people to use goats-milk, market local crafts, produce paper; they borrow, cajole, encourage, motivate, welcome, smile.

Most of all, they carry hope. Hope for those they visit that a friend will
come and spend some time with them. Hope for us, that we can see beyond the disease.

For more on the British and South African Red Cross response to HIV in South Africa see HIV programmes in South Africa

Red Cross Red Crescent prepares for Statutory meetings - JoeJoeBloggs will be there!

2011-11-17T16:05:00.002+01:00

I'm very excited to have been asked to joincommunications colleagues from our HQ in Geneva and worldwide to assist at thestatutory meetings in Geneva next week. This will be the first time I'vebeen involved since the General Assembly in Seoul in 2005 and my fifthtime at the crease overall.

I'll be working with the media team, which will bea first for me. In Seoul I was in charge of the Daily Bulletin, which was aright rollercoaster, with up to eight pages a day needing preparation andsignoff before being emailed back to Geneva, eight time zones awayfor translation and layout.

We managed, thanks a great team of Andy McElroy, Maude Froberg, Alison Freebairn, a youthful Matt Cochrane and more all held togetherby the smooth Lebanese organisational skills of the lovely Lea Salwanand dear Sue Pavan, who sadly passed away earlier this year. We made it throughthe late nights and the lack of fresh air with remarkable littleupset, thanks also to our generous Korean hosts. It was a great team to workwith and I'm looking forward to meeting the new team, some of whom I know well,others by reputation. I don't think my old pal Bob McKerrow will be there, but I’llnever forget our night of poetry, polar explorer yarns, songs and a bottle ofJW Black, high above the Korean capital.

The first great thing about Red Cross Red Crescent,apart from its mission, is how it unites humanity in the service ofhumanity across 186 countries (soon to be 187 - the Maldivian Red Crescent,in which I had some small part in the formation with the wonderful Jerry Talbotin 2006) is scheduled to be recognised and admitted to the family at theupcoming meetings. And the second thing is the rich panoplyof characters (like Bob, though there are precious few like Bob) itbrings together.

Eight years ago in Geneva we had a choir of RedCross HIV care workers from Soweto opening events in Geneva. During one oftheir off-site concerts the redoubtable Mandisa Kelekle-Williams, SecretaryGeneral of the South African Red Cross jumped out of her chair in the audience,leapt on stage and joined the choir n a spirited rendition of "This LittleLight of Mine". Character indeed.

So much has happened in the intervening years, butnow the Statutory Meetings return to the gargantuan and sombre surrounds of theCentre International des Conferences in Genève. In total, over1,000 delegates from the Red Cross and Red Crescent movement and Statesparty to the Geneva Conventions will discuss matters ofhigh import in the humanitarian world, and together withtheir governments pledge to work together to improve the lives of the mostvulnerable.

Here's a quick run-down of the events at theGeneral Assembly, the Council of Delegates and the International Conference,with together make up the Statutory Meetings.

Monday, 21 November: Announcement of meetings with a focus on healthcare in danger and volunteerism
Tuesday, 22 November: Law and disasters: reducing disaster risk and ensuring access to land and shelter
Wednesday, 23 November: Culture of non-violence and peace, with ties to the issue of migration
Sunday, 27 November: TedXRC2
Monday, 28 November: International Humanitarian Law
Tuesday, 29 November: Barriers to health, inequitable access
Wednesday, 30 November: Volunteering in emergencies: protection, promotion and recognition
Thursday, 1 December: Conference closing, main resolutions and agreements

The event on Sunday 27 will be worth watching (in Geneva or online) particularlyfor me as my old buddy Paul Conneally participates in the TEDX talk, havingforged the institutional relationship with TED before moving on, regrettably,to pastures new. (Click the link for more).

All 186 Red Cross and Red Crescent Societiesworldwide gather every two years at the General Assembly todiscuss major humanitarian challenges and agree on the way forward in servingvulnerable communities. The General Assembly is the supreme body of theInternational Federation of Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies and this year,it will take place from 23 to 25 November in Geneva. Major discussion themesamong participants will include community resilience, lessons learned frommajor disaster responses, promoting a culture of non violence and peace andmore.

Winners of the global IFRC youth,volunteering and Henry Davison awards will also be announced. Equally excitingwill be the expected recognition of a new National Society as a member of theIFRC, which would bring the number of National Societies serving vulnerablepeople and supporting the development of healthy communities worldwide to 187.

The Councilof Delegates is responsible for proposing candidates to chair theConference and fill other posts. It also adopts a provisional agenda for the InternationalConference.Although the Council can meet on its own initiative, or if a thirdof its membership so requests, it normally meets immediately after the biennialmeetings of the Federation’s General Assembly. In years when an InternationalConference is held (normally every four years) the Council follows the GeneralAssembly and precedes the International Conference, whichis the supreme deliberative body for the Movement. At the InternationalConference, representatives of the components of the Movement meet withrepresentatives of the States Parties to the Geneva Conventions, the latter inexercise of their responsibilities under those Conventions and in support of theoverall work of the Movement.

“Together theyexamine and decide upon humanitarian matters of common interest and any otherrelated matter” (Article 2 and 8 of the Statutes).

The Conference is a unique event and inprinciple meets every four years. It brings together representatives of StatesParty to the Geneva Conventions (194 states) and a global RC RC Movement, whichcomprises representatives of autonomous national organisations - the recognisedNational Red Cross Red Crescent Societies (186 National Societies)- with theirInternational Federation of the Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies (IFRC) andthe International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) with its specific mandateestablished in the Geneva Conventions.

The Conferenceprovides a non-political forum for dialogue on humanitarian matters of commoninterest and is widely seen as perhaps the most important humanitarian forum inthe world bringing States Parties into dialogue with the components of theMovement on equal grounds. Each of the members has one vote. Therepresentatives of the States party to the Geneva Conventions, who attend theConference, must respect the FundamentalPrinciples of the International Red Cross and Red Crescent Movement (theFundamental Principles)

The Conference takes its decisions in theform of resolutions in order to ensures Red Cross Red Crescent unity of effortand respect for the Fundamental Principles. “The Conference shall endeavour toadopt its resolutions by consensus” (Article 11.7 Statutes of the RC RCMovement).

In addition to the resolutions, any membersor observers of the Conference can make individual or collective pledges.

All in all, a hectic but inspirational few days are to be expected. I'llstop by and share my impressions when the meetings are over, and I've had timeto draw breath!

Ever wonder how it feels to be a victim of human trafficking?

2011-11-14T14:45:00.001+01:00

The sign above the girl's head reads "Sexual Exploitation. The photo says it all.

Here's an interesting piece from my colleagues Giovanni Zambello in Budapest and Sergei Boltrushevich in Minsk. It shows how impotant it is that youth are aware of how easily they can be duped into travelling abroad for a glamorous job, only to be suckered into modern-day slavery. This article first appeared on www.ifrc.org

Even though the global scale of human trafficking is hard to quantify, according to the International Organization for Migration (IOM), some 800,000 people may be trafficked across borders every year. Probably many more within the borders of their own countries.

In the European context, the problem of trafficking human beings involves especially Belarus and the Scandinavian countries. Belarus, in particular, represents a source, a destination, and transit country for women, men, and children subjected to sex trafficking and forced labour: according to data from the Belarus Ministry of Interior of the country, from 2003 to 2006 the number of victims identified by state authorities increased by 316 per cent, with some 1,107 individuals in 2006 alone.

In July 2010, the Belarusian Red Cross, the Icelandic Red Cross and the International Federation of Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies launched a joint knowledge and capacity building project called ‘Youth volunteering to prevent trafficking in human beings’ aimed at informing and assisting those who were victims of human trafficking, and at enhancing prevention activities among people at risk of being trafficked.

In the year after the launch of the project, a total of 1,345 young people at risk benefited from awareness raising campaigns, training and educational sessions. More than 9,000 representatives of communities were mobilized through 241 Red Cross volunteers and staff, and 18 people who were victims of trafficking are now receiving re-integration assistance in the Belarusian Red Cross branch in Gomel.

“I am a law student and I was already familiar with the problem of trafficking from a legal perspective, so I decided to contribute as a volunteer,” say Anna Kovtun, a volunteer of the Belarusian Red Cross. “Last year we had a small initiative to distribute information on anti-trafficking. We raised questions such as: What is trafficking? How not to become a victim? How to go abroad and work in safe conditions? Of course, we could not target a large group of people, but those who were trained have relatives and friends who will also be reached through them.”

In order to improve awareness among potential victims of trafficking, a number of peer-to-peer activities such as role-playing games, simulations, forum-theatre and active participation exercises have taken place.

Support in developing a role-play game on trafficking was one of the tasks of an international youth exchange project organised between Belarus and Denmark in May-June 2011. The role-play, which will be fully developed during the second year of the project cycle, is intended to put young people in the position of a person who agrees to go abroad without know what they will face.

A similar activity was organized in a summer camp held in July 2010, where participants were asked to give their passports to people they barely knew, made to sign documents stating that they would owe the organizers money, and transported away without being told where they were going.

“By using a bottom-up approach, such activities force youth to put themselves in the shoes of the people they work for and with. They experience a glimpse of what it feels like to be vulnerable, to have your documents taken away from you, to be deceived and to be tricked into signing documents containing information which is the opposite to your expectations,” says Ekaterina Leleka, anti-trafficking coordinator in the Belarusian Red Cross.

“This helps to switch a person’s usual perspective to that of someone who was trafficked, who experienced fear, confusion and isolation. Once you have done that, you are much more capable of understanding the other.”

How do you sleep? The South Africa Arms Deal and HIV.

2011-11-09T15:13:00.001+01:00

I'm still reeling from a report I heard on the radio news (ok podcast, but it's all radio) earlier this week. I should explain, that ten years ago, I was in South Africa at the world conference on racism, discrimination and related xenophobia. Nonplussed and disillusioned with the theatrics on display in the Durban conference hall I fixed up a trip to the Mozambican border area, to see a British Red Cross-funded programme which was helping those living with AIDS.

Dying from AIDS.

What I saw that day changed my world forever. An 18-month-old HIV+ baby. A wonderfully dignified, but terribly sick former photographer, living in a hut, with only aspirin to salve the pain. And a corpse, a man who died as the Red Cross nurses were on their way to see him... a man wearing a t-shirt which said "why", on his lifeless body.

It was on that field visit that I first heard about the rape of children to purge AIDS, where I saw the monument to a women of immense courage, murdered because she disclosed her status. I sat with men, old long before their time, getting drunk on rough beer in a shebeen, saw children bringing up children, huddled in shacks, with nothing but scraps of lino on the bare earth. Saw the townships which would have been so off limits to my white skin seven years previously. Watched the kids play football, kicking up the rusty dusty soil, heard the crazy music booming from cars and shops ... saw life go on.

But that day I was slapped in the face and punched in the plexus by HIV. It was everywhere, and the wonderful Red Cross nurses - Brightlady, Princess and others, showed me the paupers' graves, fresh humps and hillocks where cemeteries had never before been.

And now, and now... I read and hear Andrew Feinstein's work, his exposé of the arms deals that enriched a select and corrupt few, and squandered the wealth of a nation on shiny white elephants, fighter jets and other weapons, that have never been used but cost South Africa up to 10 billion dollars.

Ten billion. Remember, all wealth comes from labour.

Every rand, every cent used to pay for the weaponry, in the name of defending the people and the land of South Africa, was earned by the small farmer, the barrow boy, the petrol pump attendant, the accountant, the nurse, the teacher, the lawyer, the miner, the hairdresser.

And many, many of them would have been working while the HI Virus was active inside them.
And how many were denied medicine? How many more of them, men and women like the photographer I met, who winced in pain at the gentlest of handshakes, were denied antiretroviral drugs during this period?
330,000 says Feinstein, and more.

330,000 people DIED because the country was too poor to buy antiretrovirals, according to its leadership.
2.2 MILLION person-years were lost to the country, according to researchers at Harvard.

Soweto Red Cross caregivers choir in action in Geneva in 2003
In 2003 we opened the General Assembly of the IFRC in Geneva with a wonderful choir made up of Red Cross workers who brought care and treatment to people with HIV in Soweto. Some of them were HIV+ themselves, and all of them saw snow for the first time when they landed in Geneva. It was a joyous occasion, despite the tension of putting on the event. What they could have done with a fraction of the loot splurged on fighter planes...

I've snipped the main lines from ex-ANC Minister Feinstein's recent article from the Africa Faith and Justice Network website below (www.aefjn.org), but I just want to go on the record as saying one thing:

Those of you who profited from those deals: how do you sleep?

A South African view of the arms trade

By Andrew Feinstein
I come at issues related to the arms trade from two related perspectives: as a former African National Congress (ANC) Member of Parliament in South Africa, who witnessed at first hand the pervasive and damaging consequences of the arms trade on South Africa’s young democracy; and as a researcher and author who is developing an understanding of the global trade, legal and illegal, and the inextricable link between the two, as I write a book on the impact of the arms trade on democracy around the world.
While I obviously accept that every state has the right to defend itself, especially in an ever more complex and dangerous world, I believe that the manner in which the arms trade is organized and conducted means that:

•by virtue of its products, it fuels and often sustains conflicts, not just in the most obvious sense, but also because of the remarkably high incidence of political and military blowback, where weapons end up in the hands of those they were meant to defend against, thus further intensifying conflict.
• the arms trade contributes directly and indirectly to human rights abuses—not just in war zones, but on the political battlefields of Zimbabwe, Myanmar, and many other states.
• it is the most corrupt of all trading activity (accounting for about 40 per cent of all corruption), depriving millions of people in purchasing countries of much needed socioeconomic development, and resulting in massive wastage of the taxpayer money of selling countries through subsidies and incentives. As a consequence it often undermines accountable democracy, transparent governance, and the rule of law, both in countries that buy and countries that sell.

These effects are only possible because, currently, decisions about arms deals—whether they are worth many billion or a few thousand dollars—involve very few people in the decision-making process and are hidden behind the veils of national security and commercial secrecy.

The South African arms deal

This year the world celebrates the 20th anniversary of Nelson Mandela’s release from jail. As we celebrate we should reflect on how the arms trade has undermined the very institutions of democracy that Mandela and hundreds of thousands of others sacrificed so much to achieve.
As early as 1991, with Mandela free from prison and the ANC unbanned, big arms companies from Europe attempted to persuade key ANC leaders that arms deals were, inter alia, a good way to raise money for the party.
After the 1994 elections in South Africa brought Mandela to power, government leaders from European Union member states fell over each other trying to convince the new government to buy their country’s wares.
The ANC came to power promising to cut defence spending in order to increase social spending. As early as May 1990, Mandela (1990), in introducing the ANC plan for social reform to South African business executives, had said, “Enormous savings will be made as a result of the abolition of the multi-headed hydra represented by the various apartheid administrative structures. Defence spending will also have to be reduced radically as a result of the thinning down of the defence establishment.” Nevertheless, in 1998-99 South Africa committed to spend over $6-billion US (over the life of a contract that would run until 2018) on arms and weapons1 it didn’t need and barely uses today (Ensor 2007). Even senior members of the South African National Defence Force thought that such expenditure was absurd.
It appears that, as part of the arms deal, over $300- million in bribes was paid to senior politicians, officials, and the ANC itself (Feinstein 2009, pp. 139, 158). While these allegations have not been proven, it would seem that bribes were a key motivator, because the ANC was bankrupt and needed to finance an upcoming election. On the most expensive contract for jet planes, the winning bidder didn’t even make the technical short-list. The South African Air Force made clear that it didn’t want the equipment (which was 2.5 times the cost of the equipment that had topped the short-list). They went so far as to say that they would only accept the equipment if forced to do so by the politicians.
To overcome these hurdles, two-thirds of the way through the process, the Minister of Defence took the 8 extraordinary decision that on this, the most expensive contract democratic South Africa had ever entered into, cost would be excluded as a procurement criterion (p. 142).
On that deal alone there is evidence that £116-million was paid in bribes to the Minister, his political advisor, and others.

Social and political costs

South Africa has paid for this deal in lives. At almost the same time that he signed contracts to spend all this money on arms, President Thabo Mbeki announced that the country could not afford to buy the antiretroviral drugs required to keep alive the more than 5 million South Africans living with HIV/AIDS (Gumede 2008). A Harvard University study (Chigwedere et al. 2008) stated that, between 2000 and 2005, “more than 330,000 lives or approximately 2.2 million person-years were lost because a feasible and timely ARV [antiretroviral drug] treatment program was not implemented in South Africa.” These AIDS victims were, as a leading AIDS campaigner has said, “too poor to buy life sustaining treatment” (Kaunda 2000).
Social groups and journalists2 have pointed out that the money spent on the arms deal could have been used to build and staff new schools, hire new doctors, and pay out a monthly Basic Income Grant (for the duration of the contracts) to the almost 30 per cent of South Africans then unemployed. According to a Treasury study presented to the cabinet but never made available to the public (Sole 2008), the deal could be responsible for reducing GDP between 0.1 and 0.4 of a percentage point for every year of the contract.
To prevent the corruption from being exposed, Parliament and the prosecutorial and investigative bodies have been fatally undermined, diminishing the institutions of our young, hard-won democracy. Many of them continue to deteriorate.
This deal was the point at which the ANC lost its moral compass. It marked the beginning of a series of similar corrupt transactions that have continued to benefit the ANC and undermine the provision of basic social services.3

The need for a strong arms trade treaty

The UK’s Serious Fraud Office has recently decided to settle with the major British company concerned, closing its investigation into the South African deal, and raising myriad legal questions (Radebe 2010).
The arms trade is unique in that its products generate significant profits while its losses are measured in lives. Therefore, the trade in weapons should be subject to the greatest scrutiny and regulation.
In the interconnected age in which we live, where communications and finance are truly global in scope and impact, the world is crying out for a set of global principles and values that prize honesty, accountability, and integrity over corruption, intrigue, and deceit; that value a better life for all over profit and ever increasing inequalities; and that value enhancing life over ending it.
Over the next two years the members of the Arms Trade Treaty Steering Committee can make an enormous difference to the lives of hundreds of millions of people by working without ceasing for a robust, just, and enforceable international arms trade treaty that brings greater regulation and transparency to this most opaque of trades.
This article is based on a presentation given in Vienna in February at a meeting of the Arms Trade Treaty Steering Committee. Andrew Feinstein is an author and lecturer, as well as chair of the AIDS charity, Friends of the Treatment Action Campaign. An updated paperback version of his book After the Party was published in May.

One million Swedes can't be wrong

2011-11-04T09:10:00.000+01:00

Andy Channelle asked "what's a snu?" Andy, this is for you and all my Swedish (and Norwegian) pals.

Turkish Earthquake: Red Cross Red Crescent Response

2011-10-27T16:47:00.000+02:00

Minutes after the massive quake hit Van province in Eastern Turkey on Sunday my colleague Alberto Monguzzi called me. Soon after, the media started to ring. The phone rang and rang non-stop with requests for information and interviews, and I was honoured to play my part in the huge relief effort, even from a mobile phone in Budapest. Our office is still working flat out to help mobilise and direct support to the largest quake in Europe in over a decade, giving all the support we can to the tremendous men and women of Turkish Red Crescent. Right now I am participating in a telephone conference with 20 other Red Cross and Red Crescent societies, from Hong Kong to Canada. I'll post more in the coming days, but for now here's the press release we issued minutes ago.

A small child saved from a collapsed buidling in Ercis on October 24

October 27th 2011– Budapest/Geneva: A preliminary appeal for more than ten million Swiss francs (USD 11.4 million, Euro 8.2 million) has been issued by the International Federation of Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies (IFRC). The funds will be used to support Turkish Red Crescent (TRC) assist 50,000 people in urgent need following the massive quake which hit the east of Turkey on Sunday.
The death toll from the 7.2 magnitude quake has exceeded 500 with some 1,700 injured. Many people are still missing and thousands are homeless. The freezing nights in the mountainous area surrounding the epicentre in Van province are a source of great concern, making re-fabricated houses and winterized tents among the most needed relief items.
The relief operation will prioritise sheltering the most vulnerable through the winter months, as thousands of homes have been destroyed or heavily damaged. The bulk of the aid sought is prefabricated houses and tents, with blankets, clothing and sleeping bags making up the remainder.
These shelter materials will be distributed all over Van province, with a detailed assessment already under way to determine where the needs are greatest. TRC is working alongside the authorities to ensure the most urgent cases are prioritised. This in-depth assessment will help to refine and increase the scope of the operation.

Turkish Red Crescent personnel prepare food for people sleeping rough in the quake zone
The damage caused to houses and infrastructure is enormous, both in urban and rural settings, and TRC is taking this into account in its planning. Many thousands of people are still sleeping in the open, in temperatures below freezing as the area is still experiencing aftershocks (including one of 5.7 magnitude yesterday in Van province). Even if houses are still standing, most residents are afraid to stay indoors.
The appeal will complement the rapid response already undertaken by hundreds of TRC staff and volunteers. Within minutes of Sunday’s quake the TRC crisis coordination centre in Ankara was established and the first response teams had been deployed to Van. Links with the IFRC’s zone office in Budapest were immediately activated and coordination mechanisms set up.

Disaster Management Centres across the country were put on high alert as aid poured into Van. By Sunday evening thousands of tents and blankets has already been provided, along with food aid, water and kitchen sets. Psychological support for people grieving or suffering from post-trauma shock was made available to quake-hit families and individuals, as was blood and blood products.
“Turkish Red Crescent’s response to this huge disaster has been rapid and commendable”, said Evgeni Parfenov, Head of Operations in the IFRC’s Europe Zone office. “Launching this appeal means the rest of the world can show its solidarity with Turkey and help one of its most remote regions recover from this tragedy.”

For more information, or to set up interviews, please contact:
• In Van, Turkey: Alper Uluca, Disaster Management, Turkish Red Crescent, +905493099348, Turkish, English

• In Ankara: Aydın Özdemir, Head of International Programmes, Turkish Red Crescent Society, phone: +90312 293 6003. Email: aydino@kizilay.org.tr
• In Budapest: Joe Lowry, Communications Manager, IFRC Europe Zone, Budapest, +36709537712, joe.lowry@ifrc.org (English, French)

• In Geneva: Jessica Sallabank, Senior Media Officer, Geneva, +41799481148, jessica.sallabank@ifrc.org English, French)

• In Budapest: Evgeni Parfenov, Head of Operation, IFRC Europe Zone, +36709537722, evgeni.parfenov@ifrc.org (Russian, English)

• Giovanni Zambello, Communications Delegate, IFRC Europe Zone, +36709537709 giovanni.zambello@ifrc.org, English, Italian, Spanish

• Alberto Monguzzi, Disaster Management Delegate, IFRC Europe Zone, +36709537710, alberto.monguzzi@ifrc.org, Italian,English

• David Lynch, Disaster Management delegate, IFRC Europe Zone, +36709537706, david.lynch@ifrc.org, English, Icelandic

• Lourdes Perez, Resource Mobilisation manager, IFRC Europe Zone, +36709537720, lourdes.perez@ifrc.org, Spanish, Italian and English

• Branimir Knezevic, Organisational Development Manager, IFRC Europe Zone, +36709537703, branimir.knezevic@ifrc.org, Serbian and English
For photographs from the earthquake zone in eastern Turkey, please follow the link:
https://av.ifrc.org:443/pincollection.jspx?collectionName={9d9e51cb-d235-4500-9c89-97f4b2256e05}
About the IFRC
The International Federation of Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies (IFRC) is the world’s largest volunteer-based humanitarian network, reaching 150 million people each year through its 186 member National Societies. Together, the IFRC acts before, during and after disasters and health emergencies to meet the needs and improve the lives of vulnerable people. It does so with impartiality as to nationality, race, gender, religious beliefs, class and political opinions. For more information, please visit www.ifrc.org. You can also connect with us on Facebook, Twitter, YouTube and Flickr.

Irish surgeons show Chernobyl Heart

2011-10-17T11:13:00.000+02:00

I received this article from a woman I have tons of admiration for, Adi Roche, who runs the Chernobyl Children's Project International in the beautiful county of Cork. Adi is the best President Ireland never had. I've known her for several years thanks to contacts made by my wife Lena when she was a staffer at the IFRC in Minsk, and we keep in touch. It's impossible to listen to Adi talking about her work without tears pricking the eyes, and this article is a very good illustration of how an ordinary Irishwoman can do extraordinary things:

A Miracle in Ukraine: Baby Bogdan's story

Monday, October 10, 2011

A few weeks ago, I visited a run down and ill equipped children's hospital in Kharkiv, Ukraine. A volunteer surgical team funded by CCI worked alongside local medical teams to perform free heart operations.

The first bed I stopped at when I walked into the ICU held a tiny baby boy named Bogdan. He was so small that I almost missed him -- except that all the medical equipment attached to him drew my attention to look closer.

He looked so fragile and vulnerable with his little chest heaving up and down. I could immediately see that he was in distress. The veins in his chest were enlarged, and the rapid rise and fall of his chest was unnatural. The volunteers told me that he was an abandoned baby with a poor prognosis. In fact, he had only a 10% chance of survival -- he had only about 72 hours left in this world.

Luck was on Bogdan’s side. I was accompanied by two of Ireland’s top cardiologists, Professor Mark Redmond and Dr. Paul Oslizlok. They examined Bogdan, and recommended to the team that immediate intervention was the only thing that could improve his chance of survival. Before I knew what was happening, Dr. Oslizlok and the team were gowned and scrubbing up for emergency surgery.

Bogdan was gently wrapped in a warm blanket and carried to the operating theatre where we all watched and awaited the outcome. Afterwards, the surgeons gathered us around his bed, with tentative grins and relief on their faces. “Bogdan’s chances have improved to 50%. We think he’s going to make it! He’s a plucky little one, a real fighter!”

I recalled our original mantra: Heartbeat by heartbeat, breath by precious breath.Bogdan has put his heart and hopes in the hands of our surgeons and volunteers, hoping for a miracle, the gift of life. On returning home to Ireland, I heard from the team that Bogdan is making a heroic recovery, and is now taking his bottle feed with great gusto. And with a very hope filled life ahead of him!

These sorts of miracles happen every time we are able to send, with your financial support, a volunteer cardiac team to Kharkiv.

Every year in Ukraine, over 6000 children are born with genetic cardiac disease. More than half of the children will not receive the surgery they need to survive and will die. In partnership with the International Children’s Heart Foundation, our intervention has saved the lives of hundreds of children who suffer a marked increase in cardiac birth defects since the Chernobyl disaster. Volunteers work along side local staff, teaching them the latest techniques in taking care of children with congenital heart defects.

How you can help

Your intervention is badly needed, both to save young lives now, and to help Ukraine build a sustainable children’s heart surgery program for the future. Last year, we planned to support six volunteer missions to Kharkiv, Ukraine. Sadly our fund raising fell short and two missions had to be cancelled. Watching little Bogdan come back to life only underscored for me how important it is that this work continue.

Cardiac surgery is especially dependent on modern, professional education and state of the art equipment. We have high hopes to help in this sphere as well but again, we need your help.

You can click here to make a personal donation . If you know of any businesses, corporations, or individuals who might be in a position to make a larger commitment, please write to me at adi@chernobyl-ireland.com. Together, we can make miracles happen for so many children like Bogdan! (Here are more pictures of our "Chernobyl Heart" children of Kharkiv, Ukraine.)

Communication Comme une Commune - Or Aid ain't just Bucks and Trucks

2011-10-13T10:59:00.001+02:00

A very cool video from Infosaid on the importance of information and communications in aid delivery, receipt and recovery

I've started work on a new project which greatly excites me, editing a beneficiary communications guide/manual/handbook (exact title to be determined). It's been put together by my auld mucker Will Rogers, with whom I shared a stony field on the edge of Port au Prince, days after the devastating Haitian earthquake of 2010.

Will, and his colleague David Tafler, are experts on the subject of communicating with people affected by disasters, working on the premise that communication is a human right, that it is as important an item of aid as medicine, food, water, or shelter. How can you get what you need when you don't know where it is?

More importantly, they believe, and passionately, that the affected communities must have the strongest say in what aid they get and how they get it. Not to be content with food being dumped on them, or being settled in dangerous difficult locations.

Mothers, children, the elderly, the handicapped... all the people who struggle hardest when their normal way of living is upended, they are the ones who should be able to say what they need, and the humanitarian agencies should listen and react without question. Yes, we may have the bucks, the truck and the personnel to make an aid operation happen, but we are doing it for people, not for ourselves. And we should look on the communities we help, or purport to help, as part of our team, not baby birds squawking in the nest, waiting for mummy bird to come with a juicy mouthful of warm, regurgitated grubs.

I have the luxury of a welter of excellent material prepared by Will and David, with input from many experts (real experts, those who have actually been part of emergency operations in the field, not with their arses parked on soft chairs in Geneva or New York). These people, the virtual team with whom I am working, have slept rough, gone hungry, missed their kids, had dysentery in some of the most challenging post-disaster contexts like Indonesia, Sri Lanka, Pakistan, Japan and of course Haiti.

That's why I am excited about working with these great minds. I'm also looking forward to working with the local Red Cross and Red Crescent communicators whenever possible. They are the ones who come from the disaster-affected communities, and they have the inside track on what it really feels like to need aid.

Back in February 2002 I spent some time with the Brooklyn Branch of American Red Cross, working with people affected by 9-11. I wanted to write a story about a person who never thought they'd be e beneficiary, to have to turn to the Red Cross for help. And I found one, a stockbroker, a self-confessed Wall Street yuppie, who had lost his livelihood and his apartment in the dust and ash of that awful day.

"When I get back on my feet I'm going to give every penny and more back to the Red Cross", he told me.

Wow! The perfect quote. What's your name sir?

"Sorry, I'm not going to give you my name. I don't want people to know that I had to accept a handout."

If he feels that way, why should a pastoralist in Kenya, or a welder in Karachi feel any different? It isn’t easy being a "beneficiary". If you have to accept help you feel you've failed. (Guys, how do you feel when your wife says "stop and ask directions?")

And that's why we have to listen, to be part of the communities we assist, and - wherever possible - put the power of assistance into the hands of the people that need it. Not easy, but surely possible.

Richard Branson on Steve Jobs and Leadership

2011-10-07T16:20:00.000+02:00

Not sure if I have the right to lift this, so let me say this was first printed in the Daily Telegraph. I wouldn't expect Sir Richard to object to me passing on his thought to my own small audience (and besides, it has a facebook share button). I just loved this article - nothing schmaltzy, no exaggerated claims, just a nod from one great CEO and man of ideas to another.

Leadership doesn’t have a secret formula; all true leaders go about things in their own way. It’s this ability to think differently that sets them apart - and that enabled Steve Jobs to create perhaps the most respected brand in the world.What leadership boils down to is people.

Whatever your style, whatever your method, you need to believe in yourself, your ideas and your staff. Nobody can be successful alone – and you cannot be a great leader without great people to lead.Steve Jobs’s leadership style was autocratic; he had a meticulous eye for detail, and surrounded himself with like-minded people to follow his lead. While he was incredibly demanding of his people, he wasn’t the best delegator – he wanted to involve himself in every detail, which is the opposite of my own approach.

Personally, I have always believed in the art of delegation – finding the best possible people for Virgin and giving them the freedom and encouragement to flourish. When I set up Virgin Records, I even decided to separate myself physically from the company, by moving into a houseboat.If you are not always there, it forces other people to call the shots, which in turn improves their own leadership skills, builds their confidence and strengthens your business.

But whatever your approach, it is necessary to give other people the space to thrive, to catch people doing something right, rather than getting things wrong. Look for people who take their roles seriously and lead from the front, but who are not slow to see the lighter side of life. People who are inventive yet organised, focused yet fun, tend to be determined to succeed, and equally keen to have a good time doing it. A company should genuinely be a family, who achieve together, grow together and laugh together.

Steve Jobs wasn’t known for his sense of fun, but he was always at the centre of everything Apple did. Over his extraordinary career, he learnt the same lesson I have – that even when you’re successful, it is vital that you don’t solely lead your company from a distance. Walk the floor, get to know your people.

Even though I don’t run Virgin’s companies on a day-to-day basis any more, I still find it crucial to get out and about among our staff. No one has a monopoly on good ideas or good advice, so as a leader you should always be listening. Be visible, note down what you hear and you’ll be surprised how much you learn.

Having said that, you also need to know your own mind. You have to walk the walk as well as talk the talk – and that’s something Jobs showed in everything he did. Nobody respects a leader who doesn’t know how to get his hands dirty and innovate personally. The trick is in striking the right balance between empowering your staff and being an example for them to follow.

Of course, there will be times when strong and decisive leadership is necessary, to make sure the right moves are made. If you place the emphasis on getting the little things right, and address the everyday problems that come up, you can encourage a culture of attention to detail. You can also have a lot of fun with these relatively tiny issues, whether it’s dealing personally with customers’ complaints – as Jobs often did via email – or surprising your front-line staff with a visit.

Despite his long battle with illness, Jobs never lost his love of Apple. Indeed, if you don’t enjoy what you do, then it isn’t likely to work out. I try to find fun in everything I do, from business commitments to philanthropic ventures, to my personal life. You are far more likely to be inspired and have great ideas if you love what you do, and can instill that spirit of fun throughout your company.Jobs may not always have been the best leader of people – which may, in part, have been due to his health problems – but he was innovative, determined and, above all, passionate.

Finding gaps in the market, and creating products that make a real difference to people’s lives, can only be accomplished if you have passion for what you are doing. If you make something you are proud of, that filters down to your staff, as well as your customers. Today, more than ever, you’ve got to do something radically different to make a mark.

In a 1997 marketing campaign for Apple, entitled “Think Different”, Jobs said: “Here’s to the crazy ones. The misfits. The rebels. The troublemakers. The round pegs in the square holes. The ones who see things differently.” I am proud to say that, in the accompanying montage, he counted me as one of them. I think it’s an attitude that’s shared by all leaders who make a difference – and it’s one reason why, despite our vastly different styles, Steve Jobs was always the entrepreneur whom I most admired.

Prime Irish steak and Kidney - We can win rugby world cup

2011-10-05T11:19:00.000+02:00

"Vowing never to be broken"

In Ireland we have a saying... well, several... ("severial" even). It's "the mockers". As in "don't put the mockers on it" - which is exactly what I will be accused of doing, if this (still unthinkable) headline doesn't come to pass. And it brings me into front-row, head to head, chin to chin contact with my old buddy Bob McKerrow, who has tipped his team, the All Blacks, to win. As would I have, and did, until Dan Carter got injured.

In social media spaces, in pubs across Lord-of-the-Rings-land, the Kiwis are lamenting the loss but saying "one man maketh not the team" (is John Fleming reading this in Aukland's finest hostelry, the Dog's Bollocks? What way are you swinging John?),

On the other wing, their media is as rattled as the dingleberries on the back end of a shaggy Merino ram being stalked by a Kildare-man. So much so that some pundits are predicting an England Australia final (and man, for a Kiwi to say that.. well it must be like gargling with those aforementioned dinglers.)

We can take Wales. Done it before, can do it again. This Ireland team, despite having many of the same throats that choked in 2007 is a different proposition. Older than all, wiser than most. Heavy and tactical. We can dictate the game against Wales. The Taffs may have been tested physicially so far, and may have gotten a good taste of goal-line chalk, but this will be a game of Celtic wizardry, and I see Declan Kidney as the master sorcerer.

"Why would you be looking beyond the quarterfinals"? says BOD, citing respect for Wales, and that's as it should be for the man who has to make it happen on the park But for the rest of us?

Hell yeah. We've been looking beyond Wales all our lives. You can SEE Angelsea from Killiney Hill on a fine day, and before Ryanair, Wales was the beautiful green craggy land you rattled through on the way to England, after hours on a cramped, stinking, puke-spattered ferry from Dun Laoghaire.

Back in the day, back in the hungry 80s... The hungry 80s. when we beat England ("Back to Kiernan.. the drop at goal...") to claim our first triple crown since the days when homburg hats went flying in the old newsreels that celebrated the feat (1949, against Wales). When Nelson's one eye squinted down O'Connell Street. Before King George's memorial got one of its balls blown off, within sight of that stinking vomitorium that was the Sealink ferry. Back in the day.

I digress, but not much. That brings us, clanking like the old British Rail trains through lovely Snowdonia to England, brave Albion, who I believe and hope we will face in the semis. Having said that, I do think the French are worth more that the 16-1 you can get on them, if - big if - they get their merde together.

England are, well, like Martin Johnson really. Big and arrogant. Nothing beautiful or artistic there at all. Brawn and a defensive mentality, which has seen them concede but one try so far. I see this one being bloody, bruising and ultimately not very enjoyable, but England to progress. They took the Scots too lightly, they'll be warier against the French.

The other semi-final should be between New Zealand who will be run closer than they would have liked against Argentina. They may even have to wait till the second half and rely on Piri Weepu's boot rather than glorious sallies and flair, but I still see them getting through to a semi against...?

Well who?

In terms of clashes of Titans, Australia v South Africa comes too early for most (but not for us, evil cackle) and means that one of the real favourites for the title won't gtet beyond the last eight.

Che sera sera. Not for that faint I, nor moan nor murmur.

So hard to call this one. It'll be a massive clash. My head says Australia, especially with Francois Steyn out. And my heart says it too - we've already beaten Australia and if we do pull them in the final we know what we have to do.

Which leaves my semi-final lineup the juciest possible: England v Ireland and NZ v Australia. Oooh yes. Even Naomi Cambpell would get out of bed for them games.

Or stay there, alone.

And who and why for the final? It's impossible, impossible I tells ya, for anyone who wears the green to countenance falling at the penultimate hurdle to perfidious Albion. There's no sweeter feeling in sport, in life perhaps, than the soft Guinnessy glow that swathes the 32 counties when we vanquish England, and with MJ in charge sticking it to them down under would be sweeter than Tupelo honey.

And - whisper it - that means a world cup final. For Ireland. And - eek - a first victory over the men in Black should they emerge as southern champs? Forget - oh only for a while, gentle reader, only for a while - Munster's 12-0 rout way back when. (And I'll never ever forget shaking Christy Cantillon's hand in O'Brien's of Kiev, the hand that pushed that ball over that line in 1978. How could I forget, I shook his had eight times, just to be sure, to be sure).

I won't predict how the game will go. The nerves will be so frayed, the nails so bitten to the quick, that few of the 70 million in the Irish Disapora aorund the world, and all those millions more who will don a green jersey for the day, will recall much of what may transpire.

But we are old enough, and we are ugly enough. We have wise heads, we have muscle and some young legs. Prime Irish steak. And Kidney...

Allow us to dream, and allow me to articulate the dream. BOD lifting the Webb Ellis in New Zealand... then tears will flow down those Godlike cheeks. And that, my Kiwi friends, without mentioning The Incident, would be the first time you would have made Prince Brian of Leinster weep. And yes, I think we might even stop talking about the You Know What then.

Should volunteers be paid?

2011-09-29T11:54:00.000+02:00

This story generated a lot of comment on social media and in bars and cafes near the venue of the Global Volunteer Conference in Budapest. Most people think "volunteer" = "unpaid". But the concept, particularly in the Red Cross Red Crescent World, is not so clearcut. I'll return to this topic soon, but for now, here's the story as it ran on 16 September on www.ifrc.org/news

A stark and difficult set of questions was posed at the Global Volunteering Conference in Budapest today by Eduard Tschan, country representative and head of delegation for the International Federation of Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies (IFRC) in Haiti.

The conference bought together over 200 participants from 65 Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies, civil society organizations, academia, governments and the private sector to discuss - and celebrate - the value of volunteers.

Mr Tschan, speaking as a frontline field worker, challenged the concept of rewarding volunteers with ‘a cap and a t-shirt’, and said that in emergences such as the earthquake in Haiti, volunteers should be the first beneficiaries.

Acknowledging that his views could not be applied to all scenarios, Mr Tschan nevertheless said the movement needed to change the way it worked with volunteers. When faced with the belief that paying volunteers is not sustainable, Mr Tschan asked: “Are we talking about the sustainability of the volunteer or sustainability of our programmes?”

Volunteers, he said, have been the life-blood of the Haiti emergency and recovery programmes. The IFRC alone has engaged more than 5,000 people since the operation began, and these were part of a volunteer force of over 40,000, meaning that the six dollars per day that they are paid benefits 200,000 people in the volunteers’ extended families.

“I have worked with [the economist] Jeffrey Sachs and I share his belief that getting onto the first rung of the ladder is the hardest part for the world’s poorest people. A lot of people are taking that first step through volunteering in Haiti,” said Mr Tschan.

“We are talking about real people who want a job. They don’t want a sheet of tarpaulin; what they want is an opportunity, they want knowledge. And we can give it to them. There are many people in this room earning $80,000-100,000 a year; why are we debating whether or not to give people six dollars a day to volunteer?”

The point that pouring millions into Red Cross and Red Crescent National Societies could leave them worse off than before major aid interventions was not lost on Mr Tschan. He said it was an issue he discussed regularly with Haiti Red Cross (HRC). Yet he noted that volunteers have been lifted out of poverty through the incentives paid to them in Haiti. They have been able to establish their own livelihoods, rather than depend on aid.

Taking care of volunteers in material terms in Haiti has improved service delivery, he said. But volunteers remain in danger as they are seen – particularly by the gangs who control some areas of the capital – as outsiders, tied to a rich international organisation. “Are we protecting them?” asked Mr Tschan. “They know the communities best and should be seen not only as a means of service delivery but also as the best local intelligence. Our volunteers have helped us solve serious inter-community violence.”

The devotion of HRC volunteers was illustrated in a video screened during Mr Tschan’s address. It featured Robertson, a volunteer paramedic who said “I don’t see myself doing anything else till I die. And if there is a Red Cross in heaven, I want to be in it.”

Women drivers

2011-09-27T16:29:00.001+02:00

Two snippets, from articles running side by side on bbc.com/news (I know it's not the coolest thing to say, but still my favourite site on the web).

One - A Saudi woman is sentences to ten lashes for the outrageous crime of driving:

"A court in Saudi Arabia has sentenced a woman to 10 lashes for breaking the country's ban on female drivers.

The woman, identified only as Shema, was found guilty of driving in Jeddah in July.

Women2drive, which campaigns for women to be allowed to drive in Saudi Arabia, says she has already lodged an appeal."

And two: Women are to be allowed to fulfill all roles, including frontline combat, in the Australian armed forces:

"Australia has lifted all restrictions on the roles that women can carry out in its armed forces.

Suitably-qualified female soldiers will be able to serve in the special forces and front-line combat units.

Defence Minister Stephen Smith said the ban would be lifted immediately but may take up to five years to implement. Critics described the move as premature and a gimmick."

There's a lot of cheap comments we could make in the locker-room or down the pub, but it does underline, once again, what a weird world we inhabit. In once country women can drive a tank and use it in deadly combat, in another they get whipped for nipping around in a Smart car. At least they got the vote, right?

Brilliant. A true "light bulb moment"

2011-09-16T16:13:00.001+02:00

This shows how brilliant people are. But don't tell the big companies - they'll only come up with a bottle that blows after 100 hours.

Have you ever wanted to kill a team member? Or: useful links regarding psychosocial health of humanitarian workers.

2011-09-06T12:50:00.001+02:00

Nice set of links from my new bud on LinkedIn, Denis Bours. www.linkedin.com/in/dpbours I found him, and this piece at the International Red Cross Red Crescent delegates group page www.linkedin.com/groups?home=&gid=150330&trk=anet_ug_hm

Hyperlinks aren't working... ifyou're interested cut and past the links till I work out a solution. JL

Most of us have been there; you just can’t take it anymore. You had enough.
Why am I doing this work?! I need to consider what to do with the rest of my life…

What triggered it? The always annoying logistician? (Dennis is one, so he can say that…) The shelling at night? Being mugged… Again! Everyone wants to be 'your friend', but in the meanwhile you can't relate to anyone? All the misery you see and it just never seems to end? Your partner who is fed up with the long distance relationship?

Below some resources on how to cope with stress, but also how to handle the psychosocial health of your staff. Another great discussion with resources was already started by Alessandra Pigni (http://www.linkedin.com/in/mindfulnessforngos) on the group Humanitarian Professionals: To go to that discussion – if you’re a group member: http://tinyurl.com/68wqnt2

Good boss, bad boss: A Peek Inside the Minds of the Best (and Worst). Stanford Prof. Robert Sutton gives a college on his recent book: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lmBSh1FGQyY. How to cope with a bad boss, or a bad team member as such.

Managing stress in humanitarian workers - Guidelines for Good Practice: http://www.antaresfoundation.org/guidelines.htm

Managing stress in humanitarian workers: (Antares 2005) http://psychosocialnetwork.net/regions/126/upload/managind_stress_in_humanitarian_workers/view_resource/

Understanding and addressing staff turnover in humanitarian agencies: (ODI Network paper 55) http://www.odihpn.org/report.asp?id=2806

Assessing psychosocial distress – which lens? Related to the beneficiary population, but the assessment of psychosocial distress is surely applicable to humanitarian workers as well. http://www.odihpn.org/report.asp?id=2861

The Psychological Health of Relief Workers: Some Practical Suggestions http://www.odihpn.org/report.asp?id=1043

Managing Stress in the Field - English: (IFRC 2004) http://psychosocialnetwork.net/regions/126/upload/managing_stress_in_the_field___english/view_resource/

Headington Institute, Coping with traumatic stress online course: http://www.headington-institute-elearning.org/stress_course/

Headington Institute, Peace by Piece: Monthly Tips for Self-Care: http://headington-institute.org/Default.aspx?tabid=1293

Headington Institute, Stress self-assessment tools: http://headington-institute.org/Default.aspx?tabid=1379

Headington Institute, Journaling: http://headington-institute.org/Default.aspx?tabid=2205 (never tried it myself, but I probably would have if I knew about it 6 years ago...)

People In Aid - Guidelines on Mental Health and Psychosocial Support in Emergency Settings http://www.peopleinaid.org/publications/MentalHealth.aspx

People In Aid - How to Manage Leadership Stress http://www.peopleinaid.org/publications/LeadershipStress.aspx

People In Aid - Resilience of aid workers http://www.peopleinaid.org/publications/ResilienceofAidWorkers.aspx

An apology to non-native English speakers

2011-09-05T11:05:00.002+02:00

Some levity, for a change.

We're sorry. English is, they say, one of the richest languages in the world, which means you have to learn more words to say what in your own language might be something rather easy. (Like in Georgian, the word for "the day after tomorrow" is simply "zeg".)

Our world relies more and more on English as a global lingua franca, even though the actual number of native speakers is declining. Living in Hungary, and working for an international organisation, not a day goes past without me appreciating how lucky I am to have absorbed my native language almost through my pores.

I marvel at the way my own kids (and Mrs L) switch from English to Russian without missing a beat, and am glad they'll never have to sit down and grapple with learning some of the examples below.

And even though I speak smatterings of French, Spanish, Russian and Irish, I am in no way as proficient as some of the mums and dads I meet in the park, who quickly zip from English to Russian to Hungarian to Italian and back. And you should hear their kids, pint-sized polyglots all. You can see their faces scrunch up in concentration as they approach the sand-pit, and relax as they follow and join the chatter that registers.

Equally dazzling is the range of accents among, say, the Libyan rebels. Is it any coincidence they dominate airtime with their savvy Bronx, their clipped cockney tones? And of course west Africans... the greatest polygots of all. I remember driving across Guinea with Osman, a working dude, who would speak French to me, Susu at the petrol station, Pular on the road, and some Wolof as we headed north. When we got to the Bissauan border he asked me to take over. "Uh? You don't speak Portuguese? Pff! Well try Spanish then!"

Or my man Tope Akinwande, a great colleague now based in London; a relation of the pugilist Henry Akinwande, if the name rings a bell (pun unintended). His French and English were perfect, his Yoruba maternal (I don't actually know how many of Nigeria's 500+ languages he spoke) and as we were hanging out in southern Ghana he picked of a dictionary in the Twi language... "I always wanted to have a go at Twi" he told me. If you're interested, http://www.omniglot.com/writing/twi.htm

I'll dedicate this blog to all the folk at the EDL who delight in telling immigrants to "learn English". And make the remark that when the counterprotesters were chanting "they shall not pass" they were not referring to the EDL's chances in the GCSEs.

Enjoy.

1) The bandage was wound around the wound.

2) The farm was used to produce produce.

3) The dump was so full that it had to refuse more refuse.

4) We must polish the Polish furniture.

5) He could lead if he would get the lead out.

6) The soldier decided to desert his dessert in the desert.

7) Since there is no time like the present, he thought it was time to present the present

8) A bass was painted on the head of the bass drum.

9) When shot at, the dove dove into the bushes.

10) I did not object to the object.

11) The insurance was invalid for the invalid.

12) There was a row among the oarsmen about how to row ...

13) They were too close to the door to close it.

14) The buck does funny things when the does are present.

15) A seamstress and a sewer fell down into a sewer line.

16) To help with planting, the farmer taught his sow to sow.

17) The wind was too strong to wind the sail.

18) Upon seeing the tear in the painting I shed a tear.

19) I had to subject the subject to a series of tests.

20) How can I intimate this to my most intimate friend?

Let's face it - English is a crazy language. There is no egg in eggplant, nor ham in hamburger; neither apple nor pine in pineapple. English muffins weren't invented in England or French fries in France. Sweetmeats are candies while sweetbreads, which aren't sweet, are meat. We take English for granted. But if we explore its paradoxes, we find that quicksand can work slowly, boxing rings are square and a guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor is it a pig.

And why is it that writers write but fingers don't fing, grocers don't groce and hammers don't ham? If the plural of tooth is teeth, why isn't the plural of booth, beeth? One goose, 2 geese. So one moose, 2 meese? One index, 2 indices? Doesn't it seem crazy that you can make amends but not one amend? If you have a bunch of odds and ends and get rid of all but one of them, what do you call it?

If teachers taught, why didn't preachers praught? If a vegetarian eats vegetables what does a humanitarian eat? Sometimes I think all the English speakers should be committed to an asylum for the verbally insane. In what language do people recite at a play and play at a recital? Ship by truck and send cargo by ship? Have noses that run and feet that smell?

How can a slim chance and a fat chance be the same, while a wise man and a wise guy are opposites? You have to marvel at the unique lunacy of a language in which your house can burn up as it burns down, in which you fill in a form by filling it out and in which, an alarm goes off by going on..

English was invented by people not computers and it reflects the creativity of the human race, which, of course, is not a race at all. That is why when the stars are out they are visible but when the lights are out they are invisible.

My Vlogs - Joe Lowry in the field and in front of the lens

2011-08-31T15:43:00.011+02:00

Just so these are in a convenient place for anyone who wants to check out my interview skills, and to satisfy my inner narcissist:

April 2011, Chernobyl 25 years on. Did a piece to camera which film-maker Luke Tchalenko ended up using as the impromptu script. We had one day to make a film... this is how it turned out:

January 2010. In Leogane, Haiti just after the quake:

Late February 2011. On BBC, minutes after I smuggled Ben brown to the gate dividing Tunisia from Libya, where thousands of people were pressing to escape violence following anti-Gadhaffi protests: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-africa-12589348

Loading a truck in Tashkent for transport across the Pamir mountains to refugees from inter-ethnic violence in Kyrgyzstan:

Late February 2011. On the Libya-Tunisia border the moment guest workers and refugees started to spill across. Filmed on a mobile phone and a little nervily as I had been told there was a sniper on the arch over the Libyan border.

May 2008. Press conference in Foreign Correspondent's Club, Bangkok. I was professionally fortunate enough to have been the first aid communicator into Myanmar after Cycline Nargis. My colleagues John Sparrow and Andy McElroy organised the presser on the day I came back. About 20 cameras, 40 mikes and 60 hacks quizzed me for an hour. Tough but a rush.

UN: 2.5 Million Affected in Burma Cyclone from NTDTV on Vimeo.

Survivors and victims - A bit of a rant for better coverage of the Horn of Africa famine

2011-08-31T13:11:00.004+02:00

When hurricane Irene was making its way up the eastern seaboard of the USA excited journalists in wellington boots splashed around in Battery Park and roared above the clamour of the wind and rain about how emergency preparation was under way. Cut to anxious residents boarding up their windows, storing food, making shelves for their poodles and cats. Cut to aid workers appealing for people to heed warnings, to come to their shelters, to look after their neighbours. All good stuff. All very humanitarian, very dignified, showing people in charge of their own destiny, supported by a caring government and media. Of course the spectre of Katrina was hovering, and thankfully Irene passed without causing the horror witnessed in NOrleans a few years back.

Those who live in the path of a storm are commendwd for taking control of their destiny. Those who live under the talons of famine are not. They are portrayed as victims, weak, unable to help themselves. What do we think they were doing for the last ten years? Squandering their scarce resources? Whopping it up? Do we – media, humanitarians – ask what herculean effort they made to cope? Can we even begin to appreciate the answer, we who turn on taps in our houses and rink the water, who defecate on enamel thrones, who feed steak to our mutts?
I just did an images search for "hurricane Irene survivor" and found the t-shirt ad you see here. I'm not so pofaced really. Of course it's fun to make shirts like that. But do a search for "Horn of Africa drought survivor" and you find what you expect. Sorrowful eyes, ten kids round a bowl of porridge, pieta-style poses, dead goats. Artistic indeed, but screaming "HELPLESS VICTIMS!!!"
(The captions generally say "a Somali woman..."..."displaced family..." at best. Get their names at least! I care more about their names than I do for Marty and Lou O'Wiscizky of Phumbuck, S Carolina)
I've written about racism in aid communication and journalism before. Here http://joejoebloggs.blogspot.com/search?q=crack and here http://joejoebloggs.blogspot.com/2009/08/monday-june-15-2009-mama-meets-maslow.html and here http://joejoebloggs.blogspot.com/2009/08/challenge-to-aid-workers.html.
But now I'm boiling up about it. Because we still cannot get beyond the easy soundbite, the shocking image. Somalia? What do you see? A child with his eyes full of flies, sucking a cracked nipple on a leathery breast?
Or a jeep with an anti-aircraft gun on the back of it, with drug-crazed young men rampaging through smoking ruins?
That is what you have been fed over the years. While we said we were feeding the world, we also felt the need to produce miles and miles of film, tape and print about the craziness and the injustice of war and famine.
Good, so we should. Journalists are the chroniclers of history. Humanitarian organisations are there doing their thing. They are the story.
Yes?
No.
They are not the story. The story is the people who have survived the hellish hand they have been dealt. The people who were born in lands where the odds were stacked against them. Whose mothers walked miles to find water for drinking, cooking and washing. Whose fathers went away to find work, or were killed in wars or other violence. Whose sisters were raped or suffered other abuse. And where education and regular access to food was never assured due to the vagaries of weather and conflict.
For most, there was a constant. The love of a mother who would wake before dawn, say her prayers and dress for the day. Find water, prepare grain, sweep the house, make charcoal and start cooking. And make sure that for as long as she could, her kids dressed in clean clothes, had ribbons in their hair, said their prayers, did their homework, washed their hands before they ate and kept healthy.
She watched the food carefully, noting with alarm when stocks dwindled. When the animals started to die she found other ways to feed the kids. And when it all became too much, facing the hot breath of death, she gathered up the kids, carrying one or two on her hack, and made a trek across a hostile desert which was also a war zone, to end up living under a scrap of tarpaulin in the bedlam of a "displaced person's camp".
I love my mother, and the sacrifices she made for me, and my wife for her devotion to our daughters. I hope my kids will recognise and respect their mother for the same reasons. Yours too. But nothing compares with the anguish that mothers and fathers across the Horn of Africa are facing today, yesterday, and for months and years ahead. Many have become widows and grieving parents while still teenagers.
Yes, they are victims. But they are survivors. They are immensely strong, so so much stronger than you or me. In our world warm beer or sour coffee can ruin our day. We, you and me, we would simply never have the physical strength, the moral wherewithal, the fortitude, the drive to do so much for our families, our kids. Thankfully, we'll most likely never be tested.
Even those of us who get to see it up close and personal, the journalists, the aid workers, the politicians, who don’t see it through a plasma screen, we still go back to a cool shower, a pizza and a g and t at sunset. In the camps the dust kicked up by our 4x4s settles, the sun goes down and the battle for survival goes on.
Everyone in that camp is a hero. Not so much the angels of mercy who come from the North and West to render aid. Not the buff CNN anchor in his tight black t-shirt and $400 hiking boots.
So let's ensure we find a way to pay tribute to the incredible spirit of survival in the horn of Africa. That's what my colleagues Kate Roux, Faye Callaghan, Abbas Gullet, John Sparrow, Maude Froberg, Alexander Mateou and many more are doing on our website, www.ifrc.org. They are showing that perpetuating the myth that those that live alongside hunger are victims, deserving of our pity has only one result - to prolong the agony. Respect, realisation of the strength of the millions surviving and investment in that strength is the only way to make poverty history

Thoughts on the humanitarian situation in Libya

2011-08-26T15:10:00.001+02:00

Six months ago I was standing on the Tunisian-Libyan border, at Ras al Jdir, watching the mass of humanity fleeing Libya press up against the border wall.

Right then no one knew what was to follow. A quick popular uprising? Protracted demonstrations with little change> A violent repression of dissent? All those scenarios and more had already played out in this amazing Arab Spring.

War, sieges, exodus, a frontline shifting faster than a desert dune, NATO strikes, and then an unforeseen surge into Tripoli's Green (Martyr) Square. Jubilation, confusion, resistance, attack. Events moved at breakneck speed.

The situation in Libya is fascinating political commentators, military strategist, humanitarian organisations and media. It is a story that has been at least 42 years in the making, as Gaddafi's fortunes and reputation have waxed and waned. From sponsoring terrorism to sanctions to a dazzling return to the world stage, and now... now what exactly?

Assuming (dangerous game, but let's assume) that we are seeing the death-rattle of his regime, the uncertainly only grows deeper as to how the current crisis pans out.

The dreaded scenario, a protracted civil war, and Iraq situation, would take a high toll on the most vulnerable, the children, the elderly and the mothers of Libya. Even now we learn that hospital care is worse than basic. Heart-rending reports show children with gangrenous wounds writhing in agony for want of treatment.

Rubbish has not been collected in six months. Electricity is sporadic in the capital. Jay Garner, the man put in by President Bush to administer Iraq post Gulf War 2 was on the radio yesterday, saying Libya needs, first an foremost, law and order. Without that (and there is no stabilisation force going to go in and rebuild) nothing else matters. Next, service have to be restored. Finally unity. In Libya, as in much of North Africa and the Middle East, loyalties run: family, clan, tribe, country. As in Egypt, when the regime falls the danger is the common cause is gone, and the opposition splits.

The hope is that Libya's oil will flow and lift the nation (and the world's markets, of course). The UN has unfrozen $1.5 billion in assets for humanitarian needs, and a meeting of donor nations is meeting in Doha trying to raise another 2.5 billion to pay the salaries of government workers and treating people injured in the six months of fighting.

My good friend Jeff Loane of ICRC has been very visible in the media in recent days. Tripoli may be a long way from Tipperary but the Irishman has neatly illustrated how the ICRC's recent "Health in Danger" report was incredibly timely.

Health workers, local and international, have to negotiate with different faction, block by block, street by street, to get lifesaving emergency medical supplies to hospitals. Simple bandages and antibiotics, that you and I buy at the corner pharmacy, have to be inched into the hospitals that need it. "But we can do it because we are the Red Cross and we are respected", Jeff told the BBC.

Amen and inshallah to that.

Meanwhile news is coming in that an ICRC surgical team is on its way to Libya. See http://www.icrc.org/eng/resources/documents/update/2011/libya-update-2011-08-25.htm for more.

Club Med - A La Sarkozy

2011-07-27T12:01:00.008+02:00

While 11 million people face starvation in the Horn of Africa, while 800,000 languish in the abomination that is the Dahaab camp, while thousands are prepared to walk through war zones and across deserts to flee violence, famine and oppression, it's good to see Nicolas Sarkozy concentrating his mind.

On camps. Yes people, that is what the French President, the inheritor if the phrase "Liberté, fraterniteé et egalité" has in mind for those who do what any sensible person would do when the merde hits the ventilateur at home: get the hell out.

Before we get to hear about Nicolas' Grand Dessein, let's get one thing straight. I am no francophobe. Check out some previous posts on this blog for the evidence. I took up the cudgels for France in a bar in New York when an American asked me, during Gulf War/Arms Fair V2 why the French "play in blue and not yella'?" I detest the phrase "Cheese-eating surrender monkeys" for the gross insult it pays to the Resistance. Even after Henry's chicanery which denied Ireland a trip to the world cup I still favour France in most sporting events (after the boys in Green of course). Don't get me started on the language, the literature, the ladies, the wine, the food, the architecture, the painting...

But this latest publicity stunt of Sarko's, rolled out to swipe some of Marine Le Pen's faithful fascists, really attraps my chevre. (It gets my goat, dear.)

The little prince suggests setting up "giant humanitarian zones" for migrants, to be based in Tunisia and Egypt. To ensure, you understand, that the dividend from the Arab spring doesn't turn into a deficit. But most brazenly, he claims that the 27 European leaders have "reached agreement" on the plan to corall hundreds of thousands of people into "giant humanitarian zones", with "schools for the children" (how nice) in order to guarantee these leaders "peace of mind".

Mais bein sur. The same piece of mind they have about Dahaab perhaps? Or the peace of mind that the vast camps in Pakistan gave us when they spawned the Taliban. Or the peace of mind of the West Bank?

The bad news is that "if you build it they will come". And like Sangatte, a problem dumped on humanitarian organisations, this jamboree will soon grow and grow, facilities will get worse, and - don't you see this Nico? - before long you will have a million people living in a canvas tower of Babel, with nothing to do except fulmitate and plan on how to raise the 3,000 dollars to cross to Lampadusa (deck level, sea view, self catering). Or worse. To raise the 3,000 to send their daughters to Lampedusa. Or maybe one or two of them will want to get to Lampedusa to make a statement, something to draw attention to their plight.

We've just seen - and I really don't want to unpack this thought - what happens when people view black, brown and yellow people, or people who pray differently, as threats to our society. These extremists might take some solace from coralling humans into Sarko's seaside holiday camps rather than give them (with their degrees, their nursing training, the ambition they have for a better life) jobs pumping petrol or cleaning tables.

Sarkozy's heritage on his mothers side - if nothing else - should be screaming NOOOOOO to this kinky idea.

I remember getting on a plane in Viet Nam, the week Sarkozy was elected. I wasn't feeling too good about his victory, to put it mildly, and when a crowd of half drunk, mixed-race young French guys spent half the flight to Bangkok singing "Sark-o Sark-o Sark-o"...

If their hero has his way their parents' neighbours' kids will be spending a long time on the beaches of the southern med, assuring the "peace of mind" of Nico and his buddies.

... Delicious, serendipitious irony. Just as I was about to publish this I got a Google news alert that originated from the Times of Malta. Ironic because my boss sent me the link to the Sarkozy camps story from the Times of Malta, where he is currently on a hardship mission. And also ironic because it is a thoughtful, intelligent and compassion piece on the Red Crescent camp in Tunisia, written by a Maltese MEP, who knows, better than Sarkozy, how new arrivals can affect a small, mainly mono-ethnic community. Worth a read: http://www.timesofmalta.com/articles/view/20110727/opinion/A-day-in-the-camps-of-Choucha.377520

A too strange, too sad weekend in Norway and Camden

2011-07-24T15:57:00.011+02:00

The world feels shrouded by death this weekend. Not just the death that will take us all in the end, but the sort of death that makes you want to rail at the Almighty. To shout and scream at the sheer non sense of it all. First an attack on the headquarters of government of one of the most peace-cherishing nations of them all, then the monstrous violent assassination of some 90 teenagers in the first bloom of their idealism, and then the loss of the prodigious, soulful talent of Amy Whitehouse.

I'm not even sure where I am going with this thought, but I do know that this weekend will be one that will stick in my memory forever. Amy's voice, rougher than sandpaper, smoother than balm, will eternally be the soundtrack of the horror of the twin attacks. Like fuzzy newspaper images in a movie scene that seeks to evoke a past epoch, her songs will, now and forever, be indelibly linked with this dark weekend.

You can bet that 90 per cent of the young people that were "pulled away" (as one translator poignantly rendered PM Stoltenberg's words) had a whole lotta Amy on their Ipods. They would have been saddened this weekend with the loss of one of this century's most singular talents. For their friends, for the survivors, the news may float like an autumn leaf onto the numbness they must be feeling, another ache in the chasm of agony that will gape for them for weeks, months, years to come.

I am too soft, too sensitive sometimes for a newsman, it's true. But hearing the young Norwegian voices, clear and pure as mountain snowmelt, on the news all day yesterday was very like listening to soul when you are out of love. There's innocence in the Norwegian accent, and simplicity, a cadence you don't find with the Swedes or the Danes or the Finns... maybe the Icelandics have it. But those voices should have been reserved for singing ballads, reciting poems. Never, never for uttering lines like "my friend was swimming next to his girlfriend as she was shot. She just floated away."

Or "I could feel his breath, feel the warmth of the gun". Tears came, receded, came, receded. The dignity of Stoltenberg, his anguish raw and personal, as he talks about his youth paradise turned to a hell. Was there a catch in the translator's voice? A supressed tear?

And today, the flowers mass in Oslo and near Utoya. Candles flicker in the summer breeze. Albinioni's majestic adagio brings the emotions welling to the surface, as it should. We'll see funerals this week. We’ll see families utterly bereft, distraught. Grief will rush like a torrent all over lovely Norway, all over every land, nation and soul that loves peace, loves democracy, loves the notion that we are all brothers, sisters, tutti fratelli, one love. The sombre northern churches will welcome those of all faiths and none, be a rallying point for empathy, a haven for those awash with the most traumatic emotions. Church, state, political parties, all skin colours, all genders, all orientations will hold hands and wish the souls of all who were cut down too soon, God's speed in their journey to eternity.

And the stars will come out to say goodbye to Amy. Who joins the 27 club, along with Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Kurt Cobain, Brian Jones... "those the Gods love die young", we say at times like this.

Perhaps, perhaps. But it hurts. It's beyond sad. It's senseless. Amy chose to live her life fast and furiously, but she brought joy to millions. The youngsters of Utoeya, many still children to my eyes, were choosing a different way to change the world. Not the language of music, but the language of liberty, of dialogue, of accommodation. The art of the possible, in the very best sense of the word. Not in the sense of compromise, but of exploring every new way of looking at the world, of going further and further towards a brighter tomorrow. They were looking at ways to keep Norway a land of welcomes, a land of tolerance, where no one feels persecuted, where no one has to live in fear.

That land, that aspiration will, must persevere. This sure and certain knowledge is the spark that lights this dark dark night. Light will defeat darkeness, hope will overcome despair. We are neighbours on this globe, neighbours as never before. To (almost) quote Amy: the night will meet the morning star.

Colleagues from Norwegian Red Cross on Utoya this weekend
"

Great Irishmen: Bob Tisdall's Golden Moment

2011-07-22T13:53:00.006+02:00

Just been on the skype with my old mucker Bob McKerrow, a veteran blogger and aid professional who curently runs the show for IFRC in Sri Lanka. Somehow the name of Ronnie Delaney came up in conversation, that great Irish athlete who brought home gold from Melbourne in 1956.

Bob recalled listening to the broadcast on "the wireless" back in the day. I went looking for some info on Ronnie and, sated, was brought to a link about another great Bob, with Sri Lanka connections.

Robert Morton Newburgh Tisdall did the business for us in 1932, when the newly-independant Irish state's team brought back two medailles d'or from Los Angeles. It was almost 89 years ago to the day, (August 1) when Bob and the great Dr Pat O'Callaghan won two golds within an hour, on the track and with the hammer. (A statue to them, and Johnny Hayes, another Irish gold medalist, stands in Nenagh Co Tipperary).

Bob Tisdall's story is special and quite delicious. Very, as we say, Irish.
Bob was born in Sri Lanka, Ceylon as it then was, way back in 1907. He had, in the midst of The Depression, what he described as "the best job in the world", as an aide to a young Indian Maharaja, escorting him around Europe, showing him the cultural and natural sights. To pursue his Olympic dream, Tisdall had to leave this job and live in a disused railway carriage in an orchard, where he trained by running around the rows of trees. Early in 1932, he wrote to General Eoin O'Duffy, then the President of the Olympic Council of Ireland, and asked to be considered for the Irish Olympic Team in the 400 metres hurdles and he also confessed that he had not previously run in the event. (O'Duffy was in his time Chief of Staff of the "old" IRA, Commission of the Gardai - the Irish police force, leader of the Fine Gael party, and of course leader of the Irish brigade that fought for Franco in the Spanish civil war. He apparently proclaimed himself the third most important man in Ireland, after fellow fascists Hitler and Mussolini.)

Anyway, we owe him one thing. O'Duffy was convinced that Tisdall could achieve a good time and later invited him to compete in a special Olympic trial at Croke Park in Dublin. Tisdall failed to make the qualifying time, but O'Duffy gave him another chance and Tisdall qualified for the Irish Team by winning the National 440 yards (402 m) hurdles title at the Irish Championships, also at Croke Park. At the team training camp, Tisdall discovered that there were no hurdles, so he collected driftwood from the beach and set up some crude hurdles on the greyhound racing track. This took him much of the morning, but just when he was ready to hurdle, someone activated the mechanical rabbit, which sped around the track rail, promptly knocking all the makeshift hurdles over. Finding out that there were hurdles available at a local girls' school, Tisdall cycled there and back each day, to use the hurdles, as the students were on vacation.

Other accounts have Bob jumping over sheep in Southeast England to aid his training. They aslo say he only gave up smoking and drinking a few weeks before major events!

After winning his preliminary Olympic heat in Los Angeles, Tisdall equalled the Olympic record of 52.8 seconds in the semi-finals. As this was only the fifth time he competed at this event, Tisdall says: "I said to myself, 'Well, you've run in the semi-finals and equalled the Olympic record; Bob, you're really getting the hang of this!"

Then in the final, despite stumbling at the final hurdle, he won the Olympic gold medal in 51.7 seconds which would have been a world record but for the fact that he had knocked over the last hurdle, and under the laws prevailing at the time, this ruled out recognition of a world record. It is worth noting that four Olympic hurdles champions appeared in that one race.

"At that moment I experienced a strange feeling of loneliness--everything was strangely quiet--I began to wonder if the rest of the field had fallen over" - Bob Tisdall, approaching the final hurdle of the 1932 Olympic Games 400 m hurdles final, five meters ahead of the field.

He moved to South Africa, where the gym he establsihed converted into a night club n the evenings. He grew coffee in Tanzania, but moved to Queensland in 1969 with his wife Peggy, where he farmed fruit crops and cattle. He admitted to running his last race at the age of 80, though he ran in the Sydney Olympic torch relay at age 93. At that point he was the oldest living recipient of an individual track and field Olympic medal and was offered the opportunity to present the medals for the 400m hurdles at the Sydney Olympics but declined as he felt it would detract from the attention due to the winner.

At the age of 96 he fell down a steep set of rock stairs and broke his shoulder, ribs and ruptured his spleen. He never completely recovered and died on 27 July 2004, aged 97. At that time, he was the world's oldest track and field Olympic Gold medalist.

Tisdall did not want a funeral, because "they are altogether too sad." His wake was attended by family and a few friends.

A great life, a great man.

Otto von Habsburg - A happy man with brains and charm

2011-07-19T12:37:00.008+02:00

Being based in Budapest, hosted by the Hungarian state with much assistance from Hungarian Red Cross, we have the pleasure of working with the affable and erudite Georg von Habsburg. President of Hungarian Red Cross, Ambassador-at-large of Hungary and Knight of the Order of the Golden Fleece.

Just recently, my boss and I were ruminating over a beer (we normally fulminate, but that's another story) and Tore said to me something along the lines of how a century is but a moment in time. His mother-in-law is apporoaching hers. "Just imagine, when she was born, Georg von Habsburg's grand-uncle was on the throne in Vienna".

Last week, the son of the last ruler of the Austro Hungarian emperor, father of Georg and six other children, passed away. His body was buried in Austria, while his sons carried his heart to its final resting-place in a Hungarian abbey. Many tributes have been paid, and the obituary below, from the Economist probably says it all, poingnantly and simply: "He died a happy man, right about almost everything, if usually too early".

IF ONLY his great-uncle had died earlier. Franz Joseph I was a masterful ruler of the Austro-Hungarian empire, but his 86 years brought rigidity when the times called for reform. This doomed the noble legacy that his great-nephew (full name Franz Josef Otto Robert Maria Anton Karl Max Heinrich Sixtus Xavier Felix Renatus Ludwig Gaetan Pius Ignatius) could have inherited. He remembered the old man, as well as the coronation of his father Charles in December 1916. It was a short and gloomy reign, in a botched war that left Europe’s most successful multinational state, the 11-nation monarchy run from Vienna and Budapest, beyond saving. The four-year-old—first crown prince and then uncrowned pretender — served nine decades longer, with brains and charm.

The Habsburg family at Otto's 95th birthday

Not that people were grateful, especially at first. A gallant British officer helped the royals escape from Austria, a turbulent and shrunken republic with no taste for the finery of the past. The other realm, Hungary, was nominally a monarchy but run by a regent (who, absurdly in a land-locked country, was styled admiral). Exiled in Spain at a threadbare and tiny court, the young Otto was schooled for the empty throne: he was fluent in Croatian, English, French, German, Hungarian and Spanish. And Latin, too—he was perhaps the last politician in Europe able to conduct business in that language.

In 1922 he became the head of the House of Habsburg: “Your Majesty” to legitimists, and by the Grace of God “Emperor of Austria; King of Hungary and Bohemia, Dalmatia, Croatia, Slavonia, Galicia and Lodomeria; King of Jerusalem, etc; Archduke of Austria; Grand Duke of Tuscany and Cracow; Duke of Lorraine, Salzburg, Styria, Carinthia, Carniola and Bukowina; Grand Prince of Transylvania; Margrave of Moravia; Duke of Silesia, Modena, Parma, Piacenza, Guastalla, Auschwitz and Zator, Teschen, Friaul, Dubrovnik and Zadar; Princely Count of Habsburg and Tyrol, of Kyburg, Gorizia and Gradisca; Prince of Trento and Brixen; Margrave of Upper and Lower Lusatia”. His other titles were more minor.

The Nazis sought his help, hoping for some stardust from a real ex-empire to give lustre to their gimcrack one. But the prince detested them, having slogged his way through “Mein Kampf”. As a student in Berlin, he irked Hitler by refusing to meet him. In 1938, as Austria’s leaders quailed before the Anschluss, the Habsburgs’ scion offered to return and rally resistance. Luckily, he didn’t get there. The Nazis ordered that he be shot on sight.

At Roosevelt’s invitation he spent the war years in America, where he plotted vainly to get Hungary to dump the Nazis, and more successfully to help Austria shed its image as Hitler’s poodle. But post-war Austria stayed nervy and vengeful, declaring him an “enemy of the republic”. He could visit only in 1966, five years after reluctantly renouncing his claim to the throne, becoming—there and there only—humble Mr Habsburg-Lothringen. He found his compatriots’ post-imperial neuroses a tempting target for his jokes. Told of an Austria-Hungary football match, he asked impishly: “Whom are we playing?”

Exiled monarchs mostly find it hard to keep their dignity: absurdity, and a court full of creeps and fantasists, are never far away. That was not the Habsburg style: his family maintained cordial relations with Europe’s other émigré royals, but his business was more serious. First he had to restore the family fortune on the lecture circuit, which well rewarded his erudition and wit. He brought up seven children (five glamorous daughters, then two much-awaited sons) with his wife Princess Regina at a lakeside villa in Bavaria. Real politics followed: “opium”, as he fondly called it. He became a member of the European Parliament in 1979 when that body was just a talking shop, seeing it as a harbinger of bigger things to come.

A family history going back to the eighth century helped him see the continent’s destiny in grand terms, with the European Union a wider and better version of the Holy Roman Empire (his family had headed that lamented outfit until history caught up with it in 1806). He was no fan of the Brussels bureaucracy, but promoted the integration his name epitomised: common culture, open borders and, above all, no more wars. Only the meanest Austrians remained uncharmed.

His glory days came late, in 1989, when what had seemed a sentimental preoccupation with Mitteleuropa—merely a meteorological term, cynics sniffed—was suddenly practical politics. A lifetime foe of the communist usurpers in eastern Europe, he plotted with reformist politicians in Budapest to stage a symbolic cross-border Austro-Hungarian picnic in the summer of 1989, breaching the Iron Curtain for ever. Once drenched with blood and tears, the division of Europe was washed away with tea and lemonade. Some of his fans wished he had run as the first president of a free Hungary, providing a way back from the disastrous turning taken 70 years before. Sadly, his modesty prevailed. He concentrated instead on lobbying for speedy and generous expansion of the EU to the east, most recently Croatia.

He died a happy man, right about almost everything, if usually too early.

Otto Von Habsburg with his son Georg, President of Hungarian RedCross

Smart-phone packin' papa/mama, put that smartphone down

2011-07-18T10:49:00.007+02:00

I was intrigued, as a parent, to hear that teaching kids good phone etiquette (as in when to use it and when not) starts very early in life. If you want to ensure your kids are not stuck inside their phone when shovelling food into their faces or at a movie, or at your inl-laws you can't make up rules when they are aready ten years old. They have to accept that there are rooms, places and times when using a phone is not acceptable. And like everything else with parenting, it starts with you, and it starts earlier than you think. If you are on the phone when collecting them from school, during their concert, when they are starring on the pitch then - not only will they realise you don't put them first (which should be reason enough it itself) they will also pick up that it's ok to put virtual people before real ones.

OK, you can say "get with the programme; life is already like that" and that's up to you. Personally I care more for flesh and blood than a chunk of plastic and chips, or at least I try to. If you can't resist DMing or FBing at least tell your kids, or your parents, or your date, or especially your spouse, WHY you need to leave the interaction for a minute.

The tips below, from an article on LinkedIn (lightly amended) are a useful guide.

Studies have shown that smartphones are invading every room in your house — from the bedroom to the bathroom—and a recent study by social dating site Zoosk says one -third of dates end prematurely due to poor cellphone etiquette.

Don’t let those numbers influence your behavior. Rise above the fray. Start with these six occasions in which people, not a smartphone, should hold your attention.

When dining out with friends, a date, or family. Go ahead, do a quick check-in. But do so politely, perhaps excusing yourself or mentioning that you’ll only be a minute. Then put your phone away. Checking your phone constantly throughout a meal sends a message: I don’t care about what the people I’m dining with have to say; I’d rather be on my phone. Next time, go out to dinner by yourself with your phone. It’s cheaper and less rude.

During a meeting. Meeting hosts have more to grapple with than ringers going off. If you’re not using your phone or iPad to take notes, you’re ignoring the meeting that’s taking place. It’s a bad impression and a great way to show your boss you just don’t give a tweet about what he or she has to say.

In the middle of a conversation. Again, you’re sending the message that you don’t care what the other person has to say. If you have to put out a workplace fire, excuse yourself or let the other person know you’ll just be a moment. But typically there aren’t fires—you’re more into Angry Birds than your friends. Maybe get more interesting friends? Or just accept that your phone is your one true companion.

During a play or a film. I sat nex tto someone who used his phone at the Bolshoi Ballet. That is beyond ignorant.

In a church. God is watching you. If you don't beleive it, turn it on its head. Would you like someone to come and pray the Rosary next to you when you were on a call?

And finally, and this is my own one, and I know it's going to be controversial - breastfeeding. Isn't that the time, the only time, when you can sit and meditate on the wonder you have created?

Quand la France a luttée pour la gloire de l'Irlande

2011-07-14T16:30:00.008+02:00

Premerment publié en Anglais peu après l'incident notoire Thierry Henry handball, et 211 ans après la mort de Wolfe Tone. Republié au'jourd'hui, le jour de la Bastille, avec appreciation sincere pour l'amour francais de la libertée.

Quelques réflexions sur Novembre 1798, et pourquoi les Français sont le droit de haïr Thierry Henry.
«Voici enfin arrivés au Français parmi vous! Brave Irlandais notre cause est commune. . Union. . Liberté, la République d'Irlande. . Laissez-nous marcher. Our Nos cœurs sont consacrées à vous, notre gloire est à votre bonheur ".

Sur ces mots, à partir de la déclaration d'une République d'Irlande par le général Humbert en 1798, ont été les relations entre la France et l'Irlande repose sur plus de 200 ans, et donc l'intelligence mal que Henry a infligé à sa propre nation par son tour de main.

L'histoire d'amour français pour l'Irlande est profond, aussi profond que leur antipathie pour notre ennemi commun. Et - blip de la semaine dernière à part - nous devons beaucoup de ce que nous sommes à la française, bien que s'ils avaient été mieux marins histoire aurait été différente.

Il commence par un atterrissage effectif français, en août 1798, et se termine le 19 Novembre, le jour de la mort de Theobald Wolfe Tone. Le même jour, 211 ans plus tard quand nous avons dû composer avec la mort de nos rêves de Coupe du Monde par traîtrise français, par opposition à sa vaillance.

Bien sûr, il n'est pas juste de comparer la gravité des événements, mais la citation, par le propre fils de Tone, trouve un écho en Novembre 2009: "Le jour suivant a été adopté dans une sorte de stupeur un nuage ou la crainte sinistre semblait pendre. la ville de Dublin. "

Après plusieurs faux espoirs, l'arrivée des Français à Killala en général Humbert. Le village à l'entrée n'était pas le meilleur endroit pour lancer une insurrection, mais Humbert a fait des choses remarquables. A sa grande déception, il a été rencontré, dans la baie de Killala par quelques paysans mal équipés mille sans éminents dirigeants. Les Français avaient été amenés à croire que l'ensemble de l'Irlande se soulever et à rejoindre les Français une fois qu'ils avaient atterri. (On suppose, étant donné leur incapacité à toucher terre précédentes, nous avons pensé que le jour ne viendrait jamais). Néanmoins, la collaboration française, irlandaise avait succès immédiat.

Humbert a décidé qu'il doit annoncer sa présence en Irlande et attiser la flamme de l'espoir que les soulèvements de 1798 avait déjà enflammé. He Il a choisi d'engager les Britanniques. Il avait appris d'une force de 3.500 soldats britanniques avancent sur sa position. Il a supposé qu'il pouvait être efficace que si il les engagés à Castlebar. Vaincre les Britanniques à Castlebar, en particulier depuis le commandant des forces britanniques a été le lac général qui avait vaincu les piquiers irlandaise à Wexford, serait le genre de démonstration que le peuple irlandais besoin de montrer qu'ils pouvaient, avec l'aide française, la défaite des Britanniques .

Avec 700 cavaliers infanterie française et presque le même nombre de rebelles irlandais, Humbert mené un mile de vingt à cinq forcés mars à petites routes pour atteindre Castlebar. La stratégie était brillante. Avec un seul canon, les Français ont envahi les Britanniques et forcé les Britanniques à courir, laissant derrière mousquets, des packs, des canons, des drapeaux, des munitions et bagages, même général Lake. Connu plus tard comme "les courses à Castlebar," (à gauche) cette défaite a été l'un des plus ignominieuse défaites dans l'histoire militaire britannique. Les Français et les Irlandais établi un gouvernement provisoire à Castlebar. Puis, un peu comme la semaine dernière, les Irlandais ont pris leur yeux de la balle et, comme nous avons coutume de faire, sont allés se feter un peu. Humbert et ses garçons ont été wined et dîné à une échelle plus somptueux par les gens de la Castlebar et ses environs. Ceux qui n'ont pas s'inscrire pour le service actif a chargé avec des dons de viande, beurre, volaille, œufs, poissons, etc, pour les troupes. Une partie est venu avec un boeuf qui avaient été cuits dans une carrière près de la ville sur les dalles de calcaire chauffée, une coutume qui remonte au temps d'Hannibal. Les dons de vêtements et des chaussures offerts par les commerçants de Castlebar et les villes voisines sont également arrivés.

Se préparer pris du temps, et les Britanniques finalement encerclé et défait Humbert. Michel, le frère de Tone a été pendu. At À l'époque, la tonalité était lui-même sur le chemin de Lough Swilly à Donegal avec une autre force française qui a rencontré une flotte largement supérieur anglais.

Bataille faisait rage. Amiral Bombard cloué ses couleurs au mât, ce qui signifie qu'il avait l'intention de descendre se battre. Les officiers français a exhorté Tone pour échapper à une frégate qu'ils avaient préparé. Rappelez-vous que la tonalité est un VIP et plus encore. Il avait rencontré Napoléon plusieurs fois, était un écrivain et penseur de renom, et à seulement 35 était en passe de devenir l'un des plus grands Européens de son époque.

Dans la chaleur blanche de bataille, face à la défaite et la mort presque certaine, quest-ce Tone - un protestant - a fait? Prenez la voie de la facilité? Une handball meta[phorique? Pas lui. Il a demandé ", il sera dit que j'ai fui lorsque les Français se battaient contre les combats de mon pays? No Non, je me tiendrai par le navire ".

Ce - galanterie - il n'ya pas d'autre mot, laisse une bosse énorme dans la gorge. . Tone a commandé une lutte contre la batterie "comme un lion, s'exposant à tous les périls», selon un historien du 19e siècle. «Un des combats les plus obstinés et désespérés qui n'ont jamais été battus dans l'océan", lit un compte autre. "Pendant six heures, elle soutenue le feu de toute la flotte jusqu'à son mâts et le gréement ont été emportés, ses dalots coulé avec le sang, ses blessés, a rempli l'habitacle, ses côtes brisées bâillait à chaque nouveau coup et laisser dans cinq pieds d'eau ... une démonté épave ... en lambeaux ".

Capturé et remorqué jusqu'à la rive, les prisonniers furent conduits vers Letterkenny, où ton a été reconnu par un compagnon ancien collège, un orangiste. Il a été remis à la police et tenus dans les fers, incitant seulement le commentaire: "Je me sens fier de porter ces chaînes que si j'ai été décoré de l'étoile et jarretière d'Angleterre". Il a été condamné, pour sa trahison, à la mort par pendaison, en dépit de son plaidoyer pour être abattu comme un soldat. La seule consolation était légère que son crâne était de ne pas être carpé dans un lieu public.

Certains mystère entoure sa mort. Il ya une suggestion que d'une tentative d'assassinat a été bâclée, et une balle au cou blessure qu'il a été réduit par une lame pour faire le look traumatisme initial comme le suicide. La version généralement admise est que Tone coupé la gorge pour faire fonctionner le bourreau est impossible.

Sa blessure était habillée par, de toutes les personnes, un médecin français, qui chuchote à un préposé que toute tentative de Tone pour bouger ou de parler entraînerait la mort instantanée de la patiente. Tone avait écrit ses adieux à sa femme et ses enfants, et en faisant un léger mouvement dit "je peux trouver encore des mots pour vous remercier monsieur. C'est les nouvelles les plus bienvenue que vous pouvez me donner. Que dois-je souhaiter de vivre? "

Ainsi mourait Wolfe Tone. Avec honneur et fierté. Avec lui, est mort de la rébellion de 1798, et le nom de l'Irlande comme une nation.