As part of the National Theatre’s 50th anniversary celebrations, the 2010 National Theatre Live broadcast of Hamlet, in which Rory Kinnear played the young Dane, returned this week to cinemas across the UK. A total sell-out on its first circuit, this modern-dress performance, with its thematic attention on the topical rub of media misdirection, state surveillance and espionage, particularly suits a celluloid reincarnation. Indeed, Horatio’s premonitory remark at the appearance of Hamlet Senior’s vengeful ghost—‘This bodes some strange eruption to our state’—has never more tellingly punned on ‘state’.

Despite being largely derivative of Gregory Doran’s 2009 filmic adaptation of Hamlet, in which Elsinore became a prison of mirrors and secret governmental supervision--equipped with CCTV, a disquietingly bleak and detached perspective for the audience--this performance holds its own by replacing CCTV with eavesdropping security guards and by shifting the focus of examination to the façades of media coverage—Claudius’ inaugural monologue to register his brother’s regretful (ha!) death, for instance, is filmed by an on-stage camera crew as a message to the unsuspecting public of Denmark. He might as well have started, 'My fellow Danes...'

As in Doran’s adaptation, the filmic aspects offered to audiences of this production—that is, its being filmed and appearing on-screen—constitute an interesting thematic scheme. If, for instance, as Peter L. McNamara posits, ‘theatre eradicates the psychological boundary between art and life and achieves the communion of actor and viewer, [and] it persuades man to study experience in its mimetic mirror,’ then, perhaps, the cinematic experience reconstructs (or, at least, accommodates) this boundary with the intermediary camera lens, thus engendering a mirroring process which functions outside and distant to the actual occasion of performance, that is, independently of the conventional theatrical experience. In short, by resituating the viewed experience to a recorded-live (rather than simply live) interaction, phenomenological tension is generated.

But, aside from thematic intrigue, does this have a detrimental effect on the performance itself? In many respects, I would argue: yes. It is true that recorded theatre has extraordinary potential, not least in the fact that, I imagine, the public will be more inclined to pay £10 to go to the cinema than to pay up to six-times that to attend the theatre, and consequently more theatre will be watched--always a good thing. But—and here’s my concern—with recorded theatre, the multiplicity of audience perspective is radically limited. Instead of the viewer being afforded the choice of perspective, and thus, interpretation, this is surrendered to the director himself. In short, we see only what the camera allows us to see, and thus can interpret only what is offered for interpretation. There were many times in this production in which the total impact of a scene was constrained to a close-up on one character. Where the live-theatre audience member can witness secondary stage directions and reacting characters’ behaviour to inform their interpretation of a scene, those in the cinema are often presented with the facial expression one character alone. In short, the myriad of observable facets which constitute live performance are drastically reduced, and likewise the possibility for various, discreet interpretations.

For all its criticism of media misdirection, then, the recorded-live form functions to cap possible truths the play itself could offer. The power of observation is conferred to those with control of perspective. Of course, the list of instances in which media coverage has engendered particular, motivated perspectives is endless, but in light of recent distortions of truth, apropos the UK Leader of the Opposition Ed Miliband’s late father, who, according to Miliband, was unjustly portrayed by the Daily Mail as unpatriotic), the rise of screened theatre should be held from an analogously guarded standpoint. Perhaps, then, we should revise the cautionary phrase, ‘Don’t believe everything you read’; perhaps it should be, ‘Don’t believe everything you see—or, for that matter, don't overlook everything we aren’t allowed to see.’

Nathaniel Ogle, VOIX Culture Editor.

Based in Manchester.

Before I have the likes of PETA and Greenpeace jumping down my throat, I’d like to firstly say that in thinking of Cruella de Vil as a style icon, I am in no way condoning the fur industry, smoking, kidnapping puppies or driving like a maniac. I am a faux fur girl all the way and my closest friends know the unsavoury consequences of when I come into contact with cigarettes. I do, however, want to argue that I am struck by the undeniable sense of glamour that is a part of Cruella’s character. She is without a doubt a villain and a psychopath but I cannot help finding her, fur obsession aside, oddly sartorially inspiring.

With her cheekbones, protracted use of the word ‘daaaahling’, Givenchy style LBD, her fabulous monochrome hair and her boudoir scene complete with stacks of perused magazines, hair rollers and vintage style telephone, Cruella exudes glamour, self conviction and a clear challenge not to mess with her. All of these should be good things, and used in the construction of a confident and powerful female lead. However Cruella, as her name rather unsubtly suggests, is a devilish villain. More often than not in films, well dressed, glamourous women have evil roles, with their sassy outfits and the obvious attention given to their appearance in their clothing and make-up, acting as key components of this characterisation.

This has one of two outcomes: in the case of the femme fatale, for example Jessica Rabbit or Vesper in ‘Casino Royale’, the combination of glamourous clothing and sexuality lulls, usually the leading male, into a false sense of security or stupefaction so that said femme can have her wicked way with them.  Or, on the other hand, well dressed glamourous women are instantly supposed to ring initial alarm bells as superficial and bitchy, going on to fulfil the stereotype, like Regina George and the rest of the Plastics in ‘Mean Girls’.  This latter outcome is at its pinnacle in films about fashion and the fashion industry, most obviously in the portrayal of Miranda Priestly and the rest of the Runway office in ‘The Devil Wears Prada’, but also in the less well known 1996 remake of ‘101 Dalmatians’ where Cruella, played by Glenn Close, is the head of her own fashion house. Coincidently, all of these films have heroines (Cady, Andrea and Anita) who in the end actively reject their horrid but well dressed rivals to become better rounded individuals and, consequently, sartorially un-exciting. Ultimately in both schools of the glamourous villainess, dressing well is a tool of intimidation and does not connote trustworthiness and benevolence.

It is deeply frustrating that film has dictated that well dressed women, particularly in films centred around fashion, who care about their self-presentation are intended to stimulate our defences and we are to anticipate their nastiness. A stylish outfit acts as a visual narrative to signpost that a woman is shallow and calculative, denying her an in-depth 3D characterisation. Even the now popular phrase ‘she looks fierce’, although meant to be a compliment I’m sure, rings with violent connotations of an almost animalistic and aggressive intent behind wearing an outlandish outfit, which in Cruella’s case is rather accurate. But why not have glamourous women who are also good natured and kind?

I think this has been made impossible by the film industry largely because women, like Cruella, who are presented as confidently pursuing their own sense of style (again, to reiterate, I am not talking about her use of fur but the way in which she carries herself and presents her appearance in other ways)  are perceived to be powerful. This, especially to some men, is thoroughly intimidating and made to be socially unacceptable by portraying them as villains. However, having glamourous villainesses who reek of power, confidence and excellent taste through their dressing makes me want to side with them against my better judgment, putting me into a right moral muddle. Cruella is a fabulous dresser and despite Disney’s attempts to demonise her by portraying her sadistic and twisted plans for cute puppy dogs, I have to admit, I kind of love her.

Elizabeth Harper, VOIX Fashion Editor, @E_S_Harper

Based in Nottingham and Manchester

As London Fashion Week draws to a close and the fash-pack jet off to Milan and Paris for the fashion festivities to continue, let’s take a look back at the highlights of what the coolest and most eclectic capital had to offer. The designers certainly did not disappoint; the Spring/Summer collections were bold, beautiful and creative. It took me a while to narrow down but here is a round-up of my five favourite shows:

Burberry Prorsum

Christopher Bailey embraced ladylike elegance with his collection of prim shapes in pastel shades, perfect for Spring. His designs were given a modern edge with lace fabrics, sheer detailing and a selection of bold prints. Will the spotty design seen on several shirts in this collection replace the distinctive Burberry heart print that has adorned so many this season? My favourite piece had to be this lace, bejewelled Burberry trench, putting a spin on the brand’s classic mac. Perhaps not as practical but infinitely prettier!

Mary Katrantzou

Fashion is never boring with Mary Katrantzou. As usual, her designs were a feast for the eyes. Katrantzou’s trademark trompe l’oeil prints were back in a big way with shoes being a key feature. There were leather brogues, colourful trainers as well as many close-ups of buckles, laces and chains. Next came beautifully bright cocktail dresses, heavily embellished and in a variety of interesting shapes, from origami folded skirts to frilly necklines. This collection, although perhaps a bit avant garde for most of our everyday lives, was technically brilliant and definitely one of the highlights of London Fashion Week.

Topshop Unique

The Topshop Unique show was one of the most eagerly anticipated shows by fashion editors and celebrities alike. With a palette of bright blues, sea greens and sunny yellows, summer was in the air. This summery feel was accentuated by dreamy beach music and a grassy runway for models to strut down.  Silhouettes were relaxed, floaty spaghetti strap dresses and playsuits being one of the most prominent shapes sent down the runway. The designs were kept modern through the use of almost kaleidoscopic geometric patterns. Overall, this collection definitely achieved its ideal of capturing the feel of being ‘young in the sun’.

Giles

There was a definitively spooky atmosphere at the Giles S/S 14 show. There were darkly atmospheric film stills, romantic screen prints of models Amber Valetta and Kate Moss and even a batty ballgown for the finale that wouldn’t have looked out of place in a Tim Burton film! Barely there make-up and Adidas trainers gave the collection 90s style laidback cool. Pop Art lip motifs were another key feature in Giles’ designs which made for a playful hiatus before a return to the dramatic gothic dresses.  

House of Holland

Henry Holland never fails to bring the fun factor to Fashion Week. Holland cited Baz Luhrmann’s Romeo + Juliet as a key influence and, with Virgin Mary motifs in abundance, it is easy to see elements of Baz’s vibrant, eclectic style in this collection. It was quirky and unique; even the invitations were original and sent in the form of a temporary transfer tattoo. Tattoo prints tights, along with gun holster accessories, backward caps and chunky oversized jewellery, brought an edge to the 50s style full skirted dresses. ‘Homegirls’ was a decidedly grown-up collection for House of Holland but retained the brand’s characteristic offbeat and sexy feel.

 So that’s my round up of my favourite shows from the Spring/Summer 2014 London Fashion Week. If push came to shove, I would probably say that my ultimate favourite was House of Holland’s – I can’t resist a bit of Baz, plenty of glam 50s style dresses and a smattering of brassy jewellery!

Francesca Bender, guest blogger for VOIX Fashion, @fb14_

Based in London

There is a culture of exclusivity that separates footballers playing at the highest level from the viewing public. It seems wonderfully romantic that these young men of typically modest background can quickly achieve great wealth and fame, but most of them quickly - and predictably - become estranged from working class values and experiences. Sadly, this means that a group from which we desperately need to take strong role models for youngsters is sorely lacking in them.

With the exception of a very small number of players, the vast majority of professional footballers will have been on the youth academy books of one club or another from childhood. By the time they have reached their middle teenage years, they will almost certainly be attending school fewer than four days per week. As such, as their craft is developed by an increasingly intense schedule, the young men of football become progressively further removed from ‘normal’ life and the lifestyle of their peers.

The accusations often levelled at our misbehaving soccer stars tend to focus on irresponsibility and immaturity. Having spent most of their crucial formative years sheltered inside an artificial bubble before being catapulted into a position of extreme fame and intense popularity, it is unsurprising when these young men occasionally make the mistakes that they do. A similar trend dogs the fortunes of child stars from the film and music industry, whose well-publicised eccentricities and shortcomings essentially stem from the effects of missing a stable, normal childhood.

It is no coincidence that some of the most supremely confident and flashy players on the pitch can at times be the most troublesome off it. Players in the mould of Mario Balotelli have amassed a great deal of column inches on account of their impulsive and ‘mischievous’ personalities away from football. The arrogant attitude fostered by their coaches and perpetuated by the adulation heaped upon them week in, week out by fans can often give such players a superiority complex. Couple this with the fact that many of these players know that they are almost guaranteed game-time regardless of their misdemeanours, and we reach a point where certain footballers believe themselves to be professionally invincible. What inevitably follows is a complete apathy for their moral responsibilities as publicly influential figures.   It has to be said that the readiness of fans, managers and team-mates alike to forgive the bad behaviour of their superstars does very little to discourage future transgressions. In the last couple of years alone, we have seen two of the Premier League’s most divisive personalities return from hefty bans following ugly incidents involving racist abuse to re-establish themselves as not only first-team regulars but firm fan favourites. The English Football Association found both John Terry and Luis Suarez guilty of using racist language against Anton Ferdinand and Patrice Evra respectively and punished them accordingly.

Whether or not the bans given out (four games for Terry and eight for Suarez) were severe enough is a separate issue, but Liverpool’s handling of ‘Suarez-gate’ was especially troubling. Kenny Dalglish steadfastly stood behind Suarez and refused to accept wrongdoing on the part of his striker, even as the issue re-ignited when Suarez elected not to shake Evra’s hand before a game upon their next meeting. The actions of Liverpool F.C. as a whole were distasteful at best and damaged the reputation of the club and manager in equal measure. Furthermore, the whole episode was a sorry reflection of how players in the modern game are seldom held to account for their actions to any meaningful extent.

To tar all footballers with the same brush would be lazy and unfair, as there are indeed many examples of good role models within the professional game. However, those ‘bad apples’ too readily vilified in the media are as much a product of the system that produced them as the squeaky clean David Beckhams of this world - too often footballers emerge from youth academies as wonderful athletes with painfully little perspective and self-awareness as responsible adults. Until the education of these young men is re-examined and improved drastically, we should learn to suspend our surprise when we are delivered more sinners than saints.

  Jon Watts, for VOIX Sport

Based in Birmingham, UK

In the last few months (although I’m really quite late in catching on), I have become unhealthily addicted to the television series called ‘Scandal’. Don’t get me wrong I am a happy addict because I am quite pleased with the new addition to my addiction list, which so far includes drinking ridiculous amounts of stimulants (coffee, tea and energy drinks), watching old TV shows, ogling of handsome TV stars on the internet etc.

I am now a ‘Scandelette’ (if you want it to sound exciting) or an ‘Oliviette’ (for the more reserved audience). I asked myself, "what is behind this revolutionary series? What did the writer hit on that has transformed a million female folk into ladies who aspire to wear white suits, drink glasses of red wine and abandon sleep for the pursuit of achievement? After much research and a lot of thinking this why I think it’s such a massive hit.  The series creator, Shonda Rhimes has managed to explore all angles of today’s feminist woman. Olivia Pope is a strong (dare I say black) successful woman who has definitely worked hard to achieve her status. She has it all, brains, beauty and a tongue that could bring down a thousand armored guards.

Although she is successful professionally, the writers still expose her vulnerabilities but with so much finesse that in the end, her sleeping with the married president seems glamorously acceptable to even the most virtuous ladies. One of my favorite quotes from her (I paraphrase a little) is “I don’t want to be the girl you get at the end of the story, I want you to fight for and earn me”. This  challenges every Snow White inspired romance where the princess lies lazily waiting to be rescued by her Prince Charming.

The series shows that a feminist woman is not like a man. She’s a woman with strength, ambition, drive and very feminine vulnerabilities, and weaknesses which mean she could make a thousand mistakes. It shows a new view on how much power a woman can yield without resorting to man bashing.

Many of you will mention the devious schemes that she gets involved in but I guess you have to have the side attractions to keep the show going. As a massive fan of this revolution, I think it’s absolutely fabulous watching her famous escapades, her brilliantly plotted interventions, her admirable fashion sense and how she rarely ever sleeps but still looks so beautiful in the morning!

If you haven’t seen this series, please do have a go and if you don’t like it, go and sip your haterade elsewhere.

Ugochi Ofor, Guest blogger for VOIX Lifestyle

  Yesterday I was chilling out on my couch and watching television. At that moment the News broadcast the whole parliamentary session of the morning. After having watched some of the spokesmen present their topics, I became aware of the many troubles which a few of those politicians had to be able to speak properly and clearly. The lack of oratory skills as well as the lack of a good rhetorical scheme made these representatives fail in their communicative purpose.

  It is certainly a rather tough task to present a specific topic successfully. Many factors such as eloquence, language, pronunciation and audience play a relevant role in our speech. Nevertheless, once we are able to persuade our listeners through language we get to the point in which a powerful tool has been given to us. Aristotle’s The Art of Rhetoric claims that ‘it is absurd to hold that a man ought to be ashamed of being unable to defend himself with his limbs, but not of being unable to defend himself with speech and reason, when the use of rational speech is more distinctive of a human being than the use of his limbs [...] A man can confer the greatest of benefits by a right use of these, and inflict the greatest of injuries by using them wrongly ’.

  It is no news that using our oral skills may cause benefits or injuries. Think about for a second of  M.L King’s worldwide-known ‘I have a dream’ speech. King knew very well the sort of language he had to use so as to gain people’s sympathy. He, as a preacher, focused on a particular audience who were in communion with the type of speech he gave. White and black Americans shared for the first time an immense feeling of hope and change.

  Orson Welles’ radio broadcast of The War of the Worlds is also another good example. The citizens of New Jersey -where the alien attack was taking place in Welles’ fiction- panicked and believed that such story was totally real. Welles gave his fictional speech  an unprecedented realism. He surpassed the storytelling role and adopted a rhetoric style based mostly in accuracy.

  They both found the means of persuading through speech by paying special attention to their audience; what they needed, what they expected, what they were looking for. A rich oratory is not enough if the speaker does not take into consideration the kind of audience to whom s/he is addressing. In other words, the bigger your approach is the wider your audience will be.

  To sum up, speaking properly is not an easy task if you are not used to speaking in public. Nonetheless, I cannot help feeling embarrassed when some politicians –who are supposed to be representatives- are unable to keep any eloquent speech in public. In the end, they have been elected to provide concise explanations to those citizens who voted for them.

      Lucas Ballesteros Sabater, VOIX Culture editor  @lucas_voix

Based in Barcelona

Click side arrows for more photos.

In Venezuela, the Theory Never Matches the Practice

As a precursor, this article is a critique of one the groups I thought I could relate to the most. I was highly optimistic of the recent rise of leftist movements in Latin America, and especially so of the vanguard of these movements: Hugo Chavez’s PSUV. A visit to Hugo Chavez’s grave –or should I say shrine- gave me a lot of reasons not to be overly optimistic and gave me another usual blow: the theory never matches the practice.

On Saturday August 17, 2013 I visited the Cuartel de la Montaña, where Venezuela’s ex-president was buried last April. To start, the military base has been provocatively named 4-F (4th of February, a reference to Chavez’s failed coup d’état in 1992- which is a very divisive event in modern Venezuelan history). At the gate of the Cuartel, there is a burning torch and a quote under the torch: “ElAmanecer de una Esperanza” (Dawn of a Hope). After waiting in line for nearly 90 minutes, a Colonel of the Venezuelan army started our tour. We had to stand in a circular formation while he rambled about Chavez’s achievements. There was an excessive use of terms like Comandante Supremo (Supreme Commandant) in his talk about what sounded like a perfect 14 years in power. Don’t get me wrong, the guy did really good things while ruling the country, but some of the policies are catastrophic. I lost count while listening, but I think he mentioned some 30 different misiones (missions) that Chavez founded to solve some societal problems (not all have a scrupulous record, but that’s a different story). Now I personally think that the missions are not a catastrophe in themselves, but I could not see the benefit of listening to some sort of quiz of what the different missions are for. Add to that a perpetual recitation of the slogan “Chavez Vive, La Lucha Sigue” (Chavez lives; the struggle continues.) between every few sentences, and we had a strong case of hard-to-digest propaganda. Since I was with my Polish friend, we were given more attention in the propaganda sessions.

Afterwards, we were taken to the inside of the Cuartel, and we were lucky enough to see the change of Guards of Honor while we were there. After walking around the grave, as if it was someKaaba, we were taken to the chapel in the Cuartel. Now I don’t know which is worse: an army base having a chapel in a secular state or a leftist propaganda tour taking us to a chapel (I am now sure that these Chavistas have never bothered to read Marx’s writings, despite claiming to be Marxists.). Now already bothered by the fact there was a religious hall near Chavez’s grave, I sat listening to the Colonel act as a priest for some 10 minutes. All conformed to the rest of the propaganda, until he said that Chavez was Christ the Redeemer for the people of Latin America! At this point, I was sitting just because it would have been really rude for me to walk out. How delusional must these people be to actually claim that Hugo Chavez was Christ? How brainwashed must the listeners be to accept that this influential ex-president can actually be compared to a figure that is worshiped by nearly a third of humans, including the mass majority of Venezuelans? Are these my fellow compatriots who vote for the Leftist option? Are they voting for whom they view to be a reincarnation of Christ? This part left me with many questions I wish to find answers for.

The last part of the tour was the museum dedicated to Chavez’s life, where the army Colonel got closer to my friend and I. There he told us how he is on his way to become a legend, and in the near future. After listening to him spew so much propaganda, I am not sure of his ability to become a legend, but time will show (I wrote down his name to check on his status a few years from now). We saw the pictures of Chavez’s life, and there were some really cool pictures like this “Chavez eres tu” (You are Chavez) picture. But also, it was an exposition of Chavistas’ contradictory views, where the failed 1992 coup d’état is celebrated but the failed 2002 coup d’état is condemned (if you ask me, both are unfortunate events in Venezuelan history and I am glad that neither of them succeeded.)

Two weeks have passed since my visit of the Cuartel, and I am still somewhat traumatized by the experience. As an old lady in Caracas said, I must be a sadistic person for taking my friend there on her first visit to Venezuela (and if I may add, a masochist for taking myself there.) But I feel that the trip was necessary to wake me up from any illusions I had about the majority actually being rational in their demands for social justice and that they actually knew what they are doing. It just happened that a very populist leader was able to direct them to this direction. In the process, he was transformed into something much larger than what he was, and he was nowhere as efficient as a statesman should be. Even before his death, he was transformed into a symbol for the population. After his death, his lovers fell into the typical trap of worshipping the guy (the current government plays no small role in idolizing the guy, for they need the figure of Chavez to rule). I believe the Venezuelan Left, and possibly the Latin American Left, needs to restructure itself soon to be guided by ideals and by practices that are not crazy. Until then, I dissociate myself from any ideology that worship men.

Mohamad Awada, guest blogger for VOIX Politics

Original pictures from Mohamad Awada

In much of the Western world, for the generation now hitting their twenties, ‘travel’ is the big buzzword. In fact, the romantic notion of globetrotting has become so prevalent that it has also been much ironised, producing the well-known ‘Gap Yah’ slur – a recognition of the fact that the notion certainly has a grip on the cultural consciousness.

But this ‘Gap Yah’ retort for all its humour also opened up the serious debate surrounding the fashionable notion of the wanderlust. 

The idea of Gap Year-ing, taking a year out to ‘find yourself’ or volunteering to build a school half way across the world have all become a bit of a cliché. But nonetheless the tempting lure of travelling as something that offers you freedom, the chance to gain ‘life experience’ and the opportunity to learn more about other cultures remains strong. 

And for all the clichés, these things are all valid aspirations. But a practice of travelling which is becoming closer to imperialism than to cross-cultural education is ever more pervasive. 

The emphasis on undertaking travel as a means of self-improvement and intellectual enlightenment is not a new phenomenon. As far back as the 1600s the British landed gentry embarked on Grand Tours of Europe, perceiving it as a means of furthering their cultural horizons by exposing themselves to artifacts of classical antiquity and the polite sophistication of European society.

At the same time travel has long been bound up in ideological ties. The Grand Tour was not free from the shackles of class and power: not only was the tour inaccessible to classes of the lower social order but it was also a means of cementing hegemonic rule as this was partially ensured through a superiority of cultural knowledge. 

Today, travel is presented as a chance to challenge our views of the world, but perhaps it is actually a little closer to the Grand Tour than we think.

Though the infamous ‘Gap Yah’ joke was born out of a comedy Youtube video its satire of the pretentious, relatively well off Western traveler figure seemed to ring true for some. Its final line, in which the traveler – I’m sure you can picture him, its not like we don’t all know the video word for word right? – refers to his ‘lash’ in a Burmese prison as ‘just like Fulham’, highlighted the extent to which the highly revered idea of travel at times boarders more on ‘Brits abroad’ than cultural exploration.   

The desire to travel is bound up in a contradiction: it professes to be a way of expanding perceptions and overturning received cultural ideologies but all too often it is only accessible to a certain strata of the population and it ends up becoming another way of maintaining existing power balances.

What seems to be growing unrestrained today is a specific travel culture. This is more about taking your own culture and placing it somewhere more exotic with less restriction than you face at home, joining a traveler route in which you meet people similar to yourself. In many ways this is a natural result of high levels of tourism, but there is the risk of becoming part of an expat community in which little respect is upheld for the local people.

Obviously as individuals and products of our societies and cultures we never come to anything completely neutral and travel will always, as with everything, be a politicized discourse. Ultimately, even despite travelling, we can never completely shake off the cultural practices in which we have developed, whether we practice or oppose them. But perhaps acknowledging this in the first step in attempting to travel and experience other cultures in a more genuine way.

I am in no way doing down the value of travel, I think it’s important and incredibly worthwhile and this is why I think the politics of it are important. This may all sound rather utopian and moralistic but maybe considering and re-evaluating the way in which our perceptions of the world and our travel habits are themselves informed by our own cultural ideologies would also be interesting before we hop on a plane to ‘Sin City’ (aka. Bangkok as it is seemingly lesser known these days) in an attempt to become the fifth member of the wolf pack and chunder everywhere.

  Hannah Lawrence for VOIX Travel. 

Based in Yorkshire, UK.

  When critically acclaimed second work of author Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, Half of a Yellow Sun was published, it was received on the wings of promise. Finally, the Nigeria/Biafra civil war story was being rehashed and not in an ‘uninformed, unimaginative’ way as the author believes it has been told, previously, to the day. Hers was a tale that demanded substantial volumes of emotional investment. For those, who lived in the times the book was set, hers was a tale that revisited festering wounds. Some found a measure of closure. Others were happy that their unforgettable anguish and pains that rankle still were mirrored, especially in the book’s crystal, painstaking prose. Perhaps only few imagined that the story would set forth beyond the pages of its progenitor. 

In 2008, a film adaptation of the book was announced, the screenplay to be written by playwright, Biyi Bandele. Fast forward five, long years after, filming wrapped, on a rainy July Tuesday, a teaser of the finished product seared cyberspace, accompanied by an announcement that the movie was to premiere at the Toronto International Film Festival. The two-minute, forty-second-long trailer elicited an avalanche of positive reviews and endless reams of anticipation.

The wait is over. Sort of. Half of a Yellow Sun, the film, had its world premiere, last Sunday at the 38th annual Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF) a leading public film festival in the world that screens more than 300 films from 60+ countries every September. An auspicious, watershed moment for Nigeria’s blossoming film industry. A befitting debut on a global stage. A strong show of intent from a sensational production. A chance for the world to see via a lens of cinematographic genius, one of Africa’s great untold stories. However, the movie will not premiere in Nigeria till December 2013.

Set in 1960s Nigeria, the film is an epic love-story that follows the lives of four people who become enmeshed in a web of turbulence as a result of the Nigerian civil war. The romantic drama opens in and plays out through the eyes of Olanna (Thandie Newton) a privileged daughter of a noveau riche family in a Nigeria that has just won freedom from British rule. 

Returning home with her twin, Kainene (Anika Noni Rose) from an English education abroad, both decide to beat starkly different paths. Olanna decides to take up a teaching position at a university (town) where she will be with her ‘revolutionary lover’, Odenigbo (Chiwetel Ejiofor) and his devoted houseboy Ugwu (John Boyega) Kainene, the self-professed ugly twin turns to running a portion of her father’s business empire and surprising herself and her family even more by falling in love with Richard (Joseph Mawle) an English writer.

Preoccupied by their romantic entanglements, desperate to navigate the fractious politics of the day, the relationship between the sisters soon turns sour as the knife of betrayal strikes the centre that holds them together and things fall apart. The sisters then become victims of the civil war,-the book’s ‘emotional truth’- that threatened to render Nigeria into halves, into a broken geographical expression. They become unwilling actors in a blood-soaked episode of Nigeria’s history that splits the country along ethnic fault lines, till date.

“It is essentially a love story,” Biyi Bandele says of the adaptation and his feature-film debut. “It’s about people falling in love and the sacrifices you have to make sometimes when you are in a relationship. It is about a generation of Nigerians who grew up in the 1960s, which is when Nigeria along with most African countries gained independence. And this was a generation of Africans, of Nigerians, who were so imbued with confidence, with enthusiasm, with optimism about the future of the country and of Africa. Before the end of that decade things begin to unravel before them, around them, and the dream they had for that country becomes very, very complicated.”

The premiere witnessed the strength behind the movie in full force. The principal cast members were present in persons of British-born Nigerian actor, Chiwetel Ejiofor, Thandie Newton, Genevieve Nnaji, Onyeka Onwenu, John Boyega, and Anika Noni Rose. Also present and adding verve and panache to the evening, in a splendiferous yellow dress was the author of the book, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie.

Directed by UK-based playwright, Biyi Bandele and produced by Andrea Calderwood-(HBO’s Generation Kill, The Last King of Scotland: winner of three BAFTAs and an Oscar) and shot at Tinapa Film Studios, Calabar and in London, the film’s first screening was greeted by a rapturous reception and is already been forecasted to be one of the talking points of the film festival. The cast’s powerful, tug-at-heartstrings performance was appreciated by a lengthy standing ovation. Given special praise was Onyeka Onwenu’s riveting portrayal as Odenigbo’s mother, a key character in the film.

The film, on a mission to further cement its status as a critical success, is set to continue its journey on the world stage and is billed to show at film festivals in Dubai, Trinidad & Tobago and London. One dares say that this is a propitious undertaking.

Ayodeji Rotinwa for VOIX Culture @ayodejirotinwa

Austin Tice: Missing in Syria for One Year to Date.

They are us, we are them.

Each second is a colour that is forged onto the fabric called the world. Each second adds millions of faces and different effigies into the eternity and it, likewise, has mourning too. These seconds witness billions of breaths at the same time. When considered, this planet is the globe, which tries to survive in the winds of human beings. Now I have three breaths to utter on my tongue, three different lives.

First breath, first step and first words are virtually the same. But each of them is a different student of different geography. If we were to talk about the age, it would be months or years that could name the gaps. However, I do not think that this is important for a mother or a father.

Each of them had been rebuked more or less. Either voluntarily or involuntarily they saw many different cities away from their core cultures. In that time they learned. From time to time they could not tell their sorrows yet I am sure they loved freedom. Different names were written on each of their lives. They watched versatile effigies on the film in which they were the leading roles. Some set up lives, made the world win beautiful hearts. Some had their jobs as their only troubles and the other’s had anyone who expected them.  Like all of us.

Our schools, our jobs, our women, our men, our children, cars, houses, cities… shortly our lives. What if they are taken suddenly? If your freedom was beaten in the walls of a room suddenly? Maybe it is a cruel question however, in how many different types could a human being miss the beloved when his or her freedom is taken? Or in how many different languages is he or she missed by the expectants?

I think my writing of this is senseless. You are right, I have never been into the middle of the war before. No bombs have fallen near me. I have not lost any of my friends or it hasn’t taken any part of me. But each of my age brought an enclosed war that was followed roughly.

You would be in their shoes today. Not as a journalist, cameraman, reporter but as an artisan, engineer, doctor, student, a mother or a father. Imagine a cold and a dark room, a group of walls, which would be your home for months? How would you stand?

Tomorrow, we will take Mika’s camera. Tomorrow, we will run not Remi. Tomorrow, we will complete what Maria has left. Tomorrow we will leave off where they have remained. And tomorrow they, will be us. There is no reason for forgetting, because we are them.

For Austin TICE, Bashar Fehmi KADUMI, James FOLEY and innumerable friends and colleagues of us, of you, whom we haven’t heard of.

For the memory of Maria COLVIN, Remi OCHLIK, Mika YAMAMOTO, Gilles JACQUIER and friends and colleagues of us, of you, who had passed away in battle fields.

Ismail Okan Ukav, Istanbul Aydin University for VOIX Politics 

Based in Istanbul, Turkey

Food wastage is a serious problem that we all contribute to on a daily basis. With an increasing global population and diminishing resources, we can no longer continue to waste food at the rate that we are today.

A recent study by the U.N. Food and Agriculture Organization (FAO) highlighted the gravity of our food wastage. Each year, a THIRD of the food produced globally is lost or wasted.  28% of the World's agricultural land grows crops that are wasted, and this is equivalent to the total land area of China, Mongolia and Kazakhstan, and with that, 250 KM³ of water is wasted.

The FAO study also found that unconsumed food costs $750 billion annually, which is basically equal to the GDP of Switzerland.  But wasting food doesn't just mean an economic loss; the natural resources used for growing, processing, packaging, transporting and marketing the food are lost as well.  

Forest and marine habitats and their biodiversity are also lost with the expansion of agriculture and fisheries into wild areas and the exploitation of natural resources. Most importantly, wasted food emits 3.3 gigatons of greenhouse gases. If that was a country, it would be the third largest CO2 emitting country in the world! The irony in all of this is that as the food is being wasted, a reported 870 million suffer from chronic undernourishment.

So the facts are depressing and alarming. We must cut down on our food wastage and start saving. Each and every single one of us must take action, and together we can surely make a difference.

           Think.Eat.Save is a campaign of the Save Food Initiative, which is a partnership between UNEP, FAO and Messe Desse Düsseldorf in support of the UN Secretary-General’s Zero Hunger Challenge. In hopes of getting people involved in reducing food wastage, the campaign suggests these top ten tips to help reduce your 'foodprint':

Shop Smart—plan meals, use shopping lists and avoid impulse buys. Don’t succumb to marketing tricks that lead you to buy more food than you need, particularly for perishable items. Though these may be less expensive per ounce, they can be more expensive overall if much of that food is discarded.

Buy Funny Fruit—many fruits and vegetables are thrown out because their size, shape, or color are not “right”. Buying these perfectly good funny fruit, at the farmer’s market or elsewhere, utilizes food that might otherwise go to waste.

Understand Expiration Dates— in the US, “sell-by” and “use-by” dates are not federally regulated and do not indicate safety, except on certain baby foods. Rather, they are manufacturer suggestions for peak quality. Most foods can be safely consumed well after their use-by dates. In the UK, “best before” dates are also generally manufacturer suggestions for peak quality. Likewise, most foods can be safely consumed well after these dates. The important date is  “use-by”: eat food by that date or check if you can freeze it.

Zero Down Your Fridge—eat food that is already in your fridge before buying more or making something new, which will save time and money. Follow storage guidance to keep food at its best. Websites such as www.lovefoodhatewaste.com can help you get creative with recipes to use up anything that might go bad soon.

Say Freeze and Use Your Freezer—frozen foods remain safe indefinitely. Freeze fresh produce and leftovers if you won’t have the chance to eat them before they go bad. You can also do this with take-away or delivered food, if you know you will not feel like eating it the next day.

Request Smaller Portions—restaurants will often provide half-portions upon request at reduced prices.

Compost—composting food scraps can reduce climate impact while also recycling nutrients.

Use FIFO (First in First Out) as a kitchen rule. Check your pantry. Cook and eat first what you bought first. Store newly bought canned goods at the back of the cabinet. Keep older ones in front for easy access.

Love Leftovers --tonight’s leftover chicken roast can be part of tomorrow’s sandwich. Diced older bread can become croutons. Be creative! Ask your restaurant to pack up your extras so you can eat them later. Freeze them if you don't want to eat immediately. Very few of us take leftovers home from restaurants. Don’t be embarrassed to do so!

Donate—non-perishable and unspoiled perishable food can be donated to local food banks, soup kitchens, pantries and shelters. Local and national programs frequently offer free pick-up and provide reusable containers to donors.

      Anoud Al-Fawwaz, VOIX Environment editor - @AnoudAlFawwaz

Based between Manchester, UK & Amman, Jordan

Click arrows for more photos.

September 3, 1959

Saigon, Vietnam

"We defeated France… you defeated us. Therefore, you will defeat France!" 

Exhaustion acquiesced to measured amusement as a ripple of laughter escaped deep from within the aching midsections of a dozen spent football players.

Saigon’s grandiose Royal Banquet Hall played host to quite the unconventional gathering that night. At the front, closer to the dais, sat North Vietnam's elite delegates and representatives, the most of prominent of whom now stood at the lectern, delivering a keynote address - Ho Chi Minh. A few rows back, in the centre of the hall, sat three rows of North African men. They were dressed for the occasion sporting dark, ocean-blue blazers with an asymmetric green-white-red patch emblazoned over their hearts - the unacknowledged flag of a free and independent Algeria. Lining the perimeter of the hall were accredited international journalists and photographers. Each scurrying to capture this most fascinating of stories. 

The hall engulfed its few dozen attendees; it was much too large for the occasion. But the excess space only accentuated the gravitas of the evening as sonorous echoes bounced off of its wide hips and high ceiling.

"European Imperialism has finally run its destructive course. For far too long has the colonizer exploited our lands and pillaged our resources," he continued. 

"We, the people of Vietnam, commend you, Algerian footballing freedom fighters, for your sacrifice. Know that we stand with you in arms, and in spirit. Long may you continue your struggle, and long may you triumph!" he concluded, a beaming and searching smile plastered on his angular figure.

Spattered applause broke out as the hungry players eagerly glanced around for the Indochinese cuisine they had grown accustomed to.

As the busy staff converged upon the exorbitantly decorated dining tables, Rachid Mekhoufi, one of the aforementioned Algerian footballers, took a second to ponder his surroundings. Ho Chi Minh and his guerrilla brigadiers had inflicted a series of draining incursions on the French, capitalist satellite regime. In France, Chi Minh was condemned for his ruthless guerilla tactics, so that even sitting in his vicinity would warrant persecution for Mekhloufi and his teammates who were, de jure, French citizens.

But he quickly dismissed such anxious thoughts, for what was the lame threat of persecution vis-a-vis the menacing grimace of the death penalty?

  Guest blogger Maher Mezahi for VOIX Sports @MezahiMaher

Based in Canada

With a penchant for patterned leggings and a steadfast refusal to buy skirts that actually cover my knees, my pre-holiday wardrobe was not exactly India friendly. A trip to Westfield Stratford City, and an extensive raid of my mum’s clothes, sorted me out with an array of high-waisted trousers, floaty maxi skirts and baggy t-shirts that would ideally keep me appropriately covered up and cool yet still somewhat fashionable. The idea that women only, or even primarily, dress for men has always been something that gets my goat. I dress for myself; I really enjoy finding great pieces and putting them together in an inventive way. Being told what I should or shouldn’t be wearing was definitely something that frustrated me as I was traipsing around the shops trying to find appropriately long/loose/non- sheer clothing. I don’t mean to say that I don’t understand the culture behind this emphasis on women’s modesty or that I really wanted to be prancing around the Golden Temple in hot pants and a crop top. However, I did resent the suggestion that dressing ‘immodestly’ said something about us and our respectability.

                On arrival in Leh, we were greeted by a huge sign detailing the correct way tourists should behave and, specifically, how to dress. The sign described, as we’d heard before, that shoulders and knees should be covered to be respectful to locals. The sign concluded that failing to do so, i.e. dressing inappropriately, would “cause” harassment. As a fairly opinionated girl who harps on a lot about the right to do what you want and wear what you want, this kind of causal language regarding our sartorial choices and the apparently consequent risk of harassment is maddening. However, what we tend to forget while getting whipped up into a flurry of indignation is the context; many Indians, especially in more rural parts of the country, are unused to seeing white women, period – let alone white women dressed in more revealing Western clothing.

“Hijab is security” – billboard advertising the hijab as protection against harassment from men

As Westerners travelling around India, you are stared at a lot. It’s something that takes a fair amount of getting used to. For the most part, the staring comes from a natural curiosity, however, sometimes it’s undeniably hostile and leery. On one memorable occasion in Goa, myself and two female friends were followed (sadly, not a one-off occurrence!) by a guy on a bike who, after we shockingly decided not to engage this delightful man in conversation following his shouts of “hey baby hey baby what’s your name”. He then told us very firmly that we were in his country, we were there for him and we were going to talk to him. Our outsider status as Westerners in India, crystalised here, is designated by inferences from our skin but also from what we wear. Clothing does not cause intimidation or street harassment – the reasons are much more ingrained and complex than that – but it is worth considering its contribution. After all, you experience very different treatment while wearing a headscarf.  

One Indian friend suggested a possible reason for the excessive, leery staring and harassment could be that one of the most common places Indian men encounter young white women is in porn. Obviously, this is not uniformly true of the Indian public and may just be conjecture, but it’s an interesting angle from which to consider the impressions people had of us. Even when dressed modestly with arms and legs covered, our skin and our clothing (often cut to flatter body shape) still carry a certain connotation of what Western women are like. Whether you choose to buy into this association or not, the clothing you wear affects how people perceive you. It is what the clothes signify that is important, an indication of the West’s overly sexualised culture; the idea of ‘slutty Western women’.

On returning to the UK, I was surprised to notice that both my sister and I were dressing somewhat differently, choosing to cover up more, even when returning to uncharacteristically hot English weather! It’s odd that we continued to adopt the notion of covering up, despite actively resisting the indications of it while in India. There remained a residual impact of our experiences in India in the clothes we were choosing to wear. Arguably, though, the overt process of equating revealing clothing with loose morals we encountered in India occurs in the UK too, albeit in a much subtler form. The pornification of women in popular culture sees young women being encouraged to be overtly sexual but then vilified when they act and dress in such provocative ways.   You only need to look at discussions of Miley Cyrus’ recent antics at the VMAs and in her new video ‘Wrecking Ball’ to see that discourse is centred around how absurd/disturbing/pitiable her behaviour is, instead of reflecting on her situation; why she feels the need to display her sexuality almost as almost as an initiation into adulthood ‘evolving’ from Disney Channel wunderkind to barely adult popstar. Neither is the role of the questionable Terry Richardson in directing ‘Wrecking Ball’ often called into question. Richardson, epitomising the permeation of pornification from popular culture into the fashion world, captures through his lens this double standard of perceived immodesty being upheld as both sexy and condemnable. The margins are wider at home, we are freer to wear more outlandish clothing, behave in more outrageous ways, yet the boundaries are still there. We are able to experiment with fashion, express ourselves with our clothing choices without facing continual intimidation – just one of many things that we are able to appreciate but can still take for granted – but are ultimately still constrained by our own societal norms, and open to harsh judgment if we deviate from these standards.

Francesca Bender, guest blogger for VOIX Fashion, @fb14_

Based in London

Over the past couple of months or so I have spent a great deal of time arguing, including many angry rants whilst travelling around India, about feminism, fashion, and all manner of things to do with women that always get me riled. Inspired by Hadley Freeman’s talk at ‘Bestiversity’ last weekend, and Elizabeth Harper’s excellent review of it for VOIX 7 days ago, I decided to channel my annoyance with the triviality people place upon fashion into something a tad more productive. The incredible power of the fashion industry, with the fashion media as its most influential platform, is often overlooked, unless it’s being hounded at for its damaging effects on young women. I don’t wish to defend the un-defendable; there are far too many problems with the fashion industry’s obsession with body perfection, beauty and wealth to delve into here. Instead, I would like to suggest that the power and reach of one of the world’s most influential businesses – because fashion is, we tend to forget, a thriving and dynamic business – can be utilised in a more positive and enabling way.

The fashion media has a responsibility to take up key issues of concern for young women, namely its often damaging effect on body image and self confidence. Reading about Vogue’s new educational initiative this morning, it struck me that this is just the kind of action the fashion industry needs to take, and exactly what young women need. Driven by British Vogue editor Alexandra Shulman, this initiative plans to send a 10 minute video and accompanying lesson plan into secondary schools to educate young women on the artifice of the fashion industry. The video illuminates the extensive processes involved in creating fashion shoots, from the model and make-up, to the camera work and photoshop techniques, all intending to clarify that what is portrayed in these beautiful, carefully constructed shoots is fantasy not actual reality. It attempts to teach young women – and I would hope it is also to be shown to young men too – that the images the fashion world creates are ones of fiction, designed to ‘inspire and entertain’ rather than reflect and construct a supposed ideal of reality.

The initiative has received much criticism from the British press as ‘fashion fakery’ or merely a transparent attempt at shifting blame elsewhere for a ‘poisonous culture of perfection’. Liz Jones, columnist for the Daily Mail, argues that Shulman fails to understand the damaging extent of the fashion industry’s seductive and compelling nature. Speaking of her own experiences within the fashion industry, Jones states that she “was taught to hate my body by an industry I loved, but that never loved me back.”  This is a serious issue, and Jones’ concerns are valid, yet for me the severity of her statement only convinces me further that a systematic un-teaching of the influence of the fashion industry is what is required today. This is exactly what Shulman’s initiative has the power to do. Perhaps this is the fashion media’s chance to actively harness and utilise the power of the fashion industry in a way that could eventually begin to combat its darkest, most damaging limitations.

Something that really grabbed me whilst thinking about Shulman’s initiative and Freeman’s championing of fashion was this notion of its inherent creative power – as one of fantasy, renewal and spectacular surprise. The limitless power of fashion to transform and celebrate the bodies of both men and women, expressing not just their whims and fancies but using fashion to express what excites them, illustrating with their bodies and clothing their own image of their personality. Shulman’s initiative, if carried out effectively, should ask young women to think critically about how they respond to the world of fashion that they see, and participate in, every day. They will be able to see its endless possibility and creativity and, crucially, in realising the smoke and mirrors that goes into creating catwalk shows and magazine spreads, they will be armed with the tool of awareness and the empowerment of inside knowledge.

In a culture of social media and constant connections, as consumers we are more powerful than ever. Third wave feminism, and its relationship with fashion, is rooted in our online activity – blogs, Instagram, Twitter – the list is endless and these enabling social platforms already go some way in breaking down the boundaries between the fashion industry and the real world. Real people are able to construct and create their own images of fantasy online. They themselves use filters and camera trickery; they choose to play with these endlessly creative tools in the same practices of artifice. Recognition of that fact is incredibly empowering; we now have the opportunity to be creators as well as consumers. The fashion world is evolving and initiatives like Shulman’s make it a more inclusive world, a world of creative opportunity for all. In laying bare the artifice of the fashion industry, the magical yet all-too-exclusive world of fashion is made more accessible to everyone. Crucially, it is enabling rather than alienating.

If we both realise and harness the power of fashion as fantastical, perhaps we can teach young women that they in fact are the ones with power of choice and opportunity. The fashion media can be both corrective and empowering; Vogue is leading the way by taking a hugely positive step away from damaging and mindless media that denies the spirit of fashion by dictating to us What Not to Wear.  It is vital that the fashion media takes up its duty to not only open young women’s eyes to the dynamic, vibrant possibility of fashion but, importantly, arm them against its potential dangers as a world that is, ultimately, unreal.

Charlotte Bender, guest blogger for VOIX Fashion

Based in London

  When asked to tell stories of our thirty-five day trek through Europe there is one story that is my favourite. It unfolded in that same moment of letting go. It started somewhere in that decision to stoke the fires of adventure, to say yes and be up for anything.

We were in Copenhagen; the second last stop of our journey.  Wandering through the streets and pathways of Christiania when a young woman approached me.

“I must have your hair!”

“Pardon?” I said a little confused.

“I must have it,” she repeated.

My hair had been done with yarn extensions and was an explosion of rainbow coloured braids. “Can you do this to my hair?” she asked with wide eyes. I explained that the full process could take over fifteen hours but that I could probably show her how to do it. 

In the morning the three of us sat under a tree and began to speak of our lives as I braided the yarn into her long, brown hair. We met her boyfriend and a couple they had just befriended the night before. We shared lunch on the beach; fresh fruit, pastries and milk.  We waved to passersby and learned their names and stories.  We were given a back stage tour of the unique village and learned about their strong community.  They welcomed us into their Tee Pee and made us tea over a fire. They played us music and everyone exchanged laughs and smiles and a beautiful contentment. 

It’s not a story to make a movie out of; it lacks the classic bickering and drama that turns to laughs and lessons. I am not the dramatic, emotional wife and he is not the stubborn husband who refuses to ask for directions. We traveled together much like we live together; as a team.

What makes this story stand out for me is the “yes” factor that can sometimes get lost in a world of “no”.”  It was a small quiet moment of relishing in yes and recognizing that we must keep that spirit alive. Beyond the museums and the statues, the food and the landscapes the most memorable, wonderful part of backpacking through Europe was looking at each others smiles and knowing we wanted to keep seeing that smile. That adventure smile, that “yes” smile.

Jaleesa French, guest blogger VOIX Travel

Click side arrows for more photos.

In Syria, the Fear is Gone

Mohannad Rachid, 19, and a group of other Syrian-Americans felt helpless back in the United States as they watched Syria become engulfed in conflict and despair.   

Born in New Jersey but having spent much of his childhood in Abu Dhabi, Mohannad spoke fondly of the many trips he took to Syria and the summers he enjoyed in Damascus.  With much of his immediate family living in the Syrian capital, he stays in touch with them frequently to get updates on the latest news on the ground.

“My mom has 10 siblings and they all live in Syria.  My father has three brothers in Syria and I have over 50 first cousins, “ he said.   “My grandmother lives in Damascus.”

This past January, Mohannad ventured to Syria by way of Turkey to do something about the helplessness he felt back in the United States.

With little more than a hole in the fence that you just walk through, he described the experience of crossing the border and the business-like venture it has become. “It’s like a business now, the people were on both sides of the border, to get in illegally,” he said.  “You give them 20 dollars but if you were foreign you would have to pay extra.”

Mohannad and his friends planned the trip out in advance and had connections with people in the liberated areas of Syria.  Once on the other side of the border, his ride was waiting for him and he traveled about 15 minutes from downtown Aleppo.

The devastation and destruction that awaited him was hard to describe.  “It was horrible, it was heartbreaking,” he said. “This is my home country, to see all the destruction and that people were just trying to live their own lives but couldn’t.”

Mohannad had hardly been in Syria before he experienced his first taste of war.   “We were just sitting down with some FSA (Free Syrian Army) guys, and all of a sudden a warplane comes out of nowhere and 300 meters from us it dropped a TNT barrel,” he said.  “All of a sudden the room just shakes and there was a glass window and it shattered.”

Asked whether or not he was afraid after that, Mohannad gave an unexpected answer.  “Before the warplane came, we were sitting in a room and I was talking with my friends, we felt like we were at grandmas house, it’s so safe.  It is not that bad.  Five minutes later the warplane came.”

The experience near Aleppo rattled them.  They returned to Turkey where some decided not to return to Syria due to the risk of getting injured or worse yet, being killed.  Despite this, Mohannad and half of the original group returned to Syria shortly after to complete their mission.

Organized by the Syrian American Council but funded individually, Mohannad and his friends traveled to Syria to deliver medical equipment and to assist refugees in the country.   They raised $20,000 in cash and provided aid and equipment to refugees living in the camps.

They visited the Atmeh camp inside Syria where they found the conditions to be extremely dire and the living conditions unbearable.

Mohannad said that there were around 15,000 registered refugees living in the camp he visited but that it did not have enough bathrooms to accommodate that number.  “For 15,000 people there were around 40 bathrooms.  We donated 2,000 in cash and we built another 20 bathrooms,” he said.

“You hear all these organizations saying that they are donating, giving millions of dollars to these refugee camps but when you go there you don’t see that at all. It’s horrible.”

For those living inside the camps, the accommodations were not only unbearable but also dangerous. Many of the tents were plastic so that if they caught on fire, the whole thing would burn. 

Mohannad recalled one story where tragedy struck an entire family.   “There was a family of five actually that died because their tent was set on fire,” he said.  “The most ironic part was that they survived a bomb.  It was a mom and four children.  They survived a bomb that fell on the kitchen of their house in Hama.”   “They were trying to escape death but death still caught them,” he said.

Many of the refugees in the camps that he visited disliked President Bashar al-Assad and were pro-revolution and pro-FSA.

Even the kids in the camp were participating in the revolutionary enthusiasm.  You could see it in their spirit and blood, Mohanand said.  “Every time they would start a little protest or chant, it was something that they loved.  They wanted freedom and democracy.”

Mohannad speaks with his family often in Damascus.  His family lives close to each other and that they often joke when a bomb goes off.  For them, it’s normal now.  They remain confident that democracy will come and a few of them are in the FSA.

His family members have had enough and want to return to their normal lives.  His cousins can’t attend school or university right now and to remain safe, they stay at home.

“They are not afraid. But it’s about being smart nowadays,” he said.

The regime’s brutality hit home for Mohannad who said his uncle was detained for two months and tortured for no apparent reason.

His uncle had been sleeping at a friend’s house when the regime came to search the house for weapons.  They found nothing and decided, according to Mohannad, to take his uncle into custody.

“My uncle came out losing 30 pounds and he had torture marks on his back,” he said.

The regime arrested and tortured people just to put fear in people but Mohannad said the Syrian people were not afraid anymore.  He said that he Assad family instilled fear in people for decades but that the barrier was now gone.

“Every time I would go to Syria, my mom would tell me, make sure you don’t speak anything about the president because they will come after you.”  He said that everyone knew that if you said anything about Bashar or his father or about the regime for that matter, they would take you.   But when the revolution started the fear was gone

“People would use anonymous names when the revolution started but now people use their normal names because no one is afraid anymore,” he said.  “People want freedom to come, they are trying to show Assad that they are not afraid anymore.”

Back in Chicago studying pre-med and finance, Mohannad is focused on his studies but feels helpless to do much being so far from the conflict.  “I see my country burning, I see my people dying and there is barely anything I can do. It really hurts,” he said.

He plans to return to Syria in the coming months to assist in the humanitarian operation and to create a documentary.  For him it’s a duty to go because this is his family and his people.   “Me staying here, there is no reason for me to stay here.  I have to do it. I have no excuses.”  Asked if he was afraid to go back, he said, “we are way past that now.”

Garret Pustay,  VOIX Politics Editor 

Based in Chicago and the Middle East

Before I graduated from Uni, there was one question that I absolutely didn’t want to answer. To ask it was taboo. To even give the impression that you were thinking it was taboo. Asking the forbidden question was the surest way to guarantee that I never speak to you again. The question was, “What are you doing after graduation?” It still hurts to think about it. If you’d asked me then, I’d have killed you a hundred thousand different ways in my head. Be that as it may, I always answered it with more gusto and enthusiasm than I felt. “I’m going back to Nigeria, to complete my year of National Youth Service.” The question that followed that was always an “Oh! What does that entail?” And I’d chirp along, never letting that forced smile slip into the more natural grimace, “It’s an amazing (ah-mazing) year of citizen building and fun that’s mandatory for all Nigerian graduates. You’ve got to do a month in the army, and then you work in a school or government office that you’re posted to anywhere in the country. I’m so excited! I’m genuinely positively thrilled that I’m doing it!” They were convinced. I was so enthusiastic that I almost convinced myself. I cannot imagine why they believed me. It’s perfectly plausible that while you’re off to London to earn a £40,000 a year salary, I’ll be perfectly happy to go crawling through the mud in god-awful uniform, and receive a stipend of £80 per month for my trouble. Which is why I was absolutely delighted to learn that the Conservative MP of Kettering, Philip Hollobone is fighting for a similar scheme in the U.K.

BAHAHAHAHAHA. That’s exactly how I guffawed when I heard about it. It’s brilliant. It’s a few years too late if you ask me, but it’s better late than never all the same. The bill will be debated in Parliament early next year. As it stands it’ll require all 18-26 year olds to participate in a year of compulsory National service. The best thing about it is that if it passes next year, it’ll pass with more than enough time to catch all the buggers I graduated with.

I was a little disappointed that a certain activist in Falmouth called Debbie Sayers, started a change.org petition against it, because apparently young people should be allowed to choose their own futures. I didn’t sign her petition. I will never sign her petition. If I can do it, you can do it too.

Mwahahaha. 

Damilola Ade-Odiachi, VOIX Lifestyle and Health editor,

Based in Lagos, Nigeria