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Jordan: Fighting Corruption, New York, and the Economic Crisis

Mohammad Azraq · 14:17 · Middle East & North Africa , Western Europe

lingua → es · it · zht · zhs

Writing for 7iber, the Danish Ambassador to Jordan HE Mr Thomas Fouad Lund-Sørensen brings up his country's experience in countering corruption and how Jordan could benefit from that experience, particularly, that Denmark recently ranked first in the anti-corruption index, published by Transparency International (TI). He writes:

Let’s have a look at my own country, Denmark that once again topped the ranking of non-corrupt countries. There are a number of reasons for that. First, and foremost, the Danish society has through the years developed a widespread culture against corruption. Starting in the 17th century, corruption was made a criminal offense and enforced rather strictly. The next major achievement came during the 1920’s where a code on public servants that guaranteed a reasonable salary, job security and pension in particular for the lower echelons was adopted, and corruption laws came under review. Today, it is morally and utterly unacceptable to provide or receive anything that could resemble corruption. An example - trying to bribe your way out of a speeding ticket or into a construction permit will certainly get you an extra criminal charge on your neck.

Where does this leave Jordan? The Kingdom ranked 47 in the TI ranking, which is actually not that bad, and a 10% improvement compared to last year’s ranking. I have not firsthand witnessed any kind of corruption in Jordan, but I have, like everyone in the country, heard of possible incidents either directly or from press and reports. And I don’t think Jordan has a choice. Like the other small resource-deprived countries on top of the list there is only one way to become a wealthy Rule-of-Law country and that is to beat corruption, whether in the form of political vote-buying or in its domestic form of wasta.

In the end, it boils down to a change in culture towards rewarding merits instead of socioeconomic ties, and creating more transparency in public affairs. Some serious steps have been taken already, a number of them with Danish support. The establishment of the anti-corruption commission, training of law enforcement and the ombudsman bureau are examples but the real long term hurdle will be changing the culture of favoritism.

More on the Ambassador's view on fighting corruption here.

Meanwhile, Lina Ejeilat, a student at Columbia School of Journalism, writes about her experience in New York City:

I’m sitting outside the Journalism School building, working on my pitch for the New Media Masters project while watching some kids playing on the lawn and enjoying the gorgeous Fall weather. This campus just feels like a park sometimes.

A tiny mouse just passed by. I got so used to these by now, and they’re a much more tolerable sight than the big rats you occasionally see crossing the subway rails. Those are some of the rare moments where I actually miss Amman’s stray cats. You don’t see stray cats on the streets here, but I’d take cats any day over rats and mice.

But this doesn’t make me love New York City any less. One of the amazing things about this place is that it takes you in as one of its own very quickly. Just give yourself one week of living here and you no longer feel like a foreigner. You get on the subway and you see people of all ethnic and cultural backgrounds imaginable. No one is too different in New York. It’s a city of sub-cultures, and whatever your niche, you can be sure to find enough like-minded people who share your interest

One of our main classes at Columbia this semester is “Writing and Reporting I”, and what basically happens is that you are assigned a beat to cover - a neighborhood that you report and write stories on all through the semester. My beat is Red Hook, in Brooklyn, and I find the place so fascinating and interesting. In a way I feel that beat reporting enriches my experience of New York, because I get to explore aspects that I would’ve probably not explored otherwise.

Azerbaijan: Peace Corps Volunteer Blogs

Onnik Krikorian · 11:00 · Americas , Central Asia & Caucasus

lingua → fr

The U.S. Peace Corps started working in Azerbaijan in 2002. Previously, they had been prevented from doing so thanks to the efforts of the Armenian-American lobby which had successfully blocked U.S. assistance to the country because of the unresolved conflict between the two over the disputed territory of Nagorno Karabakh. That changed when U.S. President George Bush waived a provision in the 1992 Freedom Support Act which prohibited such assistance.

Since then, according to the Peace Corps Wiki, over 190 Peace Corps Volunteers have served in Azerbaijan and as was the case in Armenia, a number set up blogs from the beginning of 2006. Operating outside the capital, Baku, the blogs detail life in the regions of an oil-rich country that few would otherwise experience.

One new PCV in the country this year is Chris Sensei in Azerbaijan. In an extended post accompanied by photographs, the blogger introduces readers to his work site.

We are staying in and around Sumgait. A place that could have been a beautiful resort town on the Caspian but instead the Soviets built refineries and chemical factories here. It was one of the most polluted place on Earth for 20+years, with cancer and child mortality at astronomical rates but Independence brought the collapse of those industries. Its gotten much cleaner since then. Many crumbling factories and pipelines remain but the streets are cleaner than those I saw in India and rural China and the water is clean enough to drink without filtration. […]

In the suburbs most of the roads are unpaved and lack drainage so. It had been raining that morning so as we were being dropped off we had to deal with mud roads and puddles like small ponds. Most of the housing around here is brown concrete Soviet built apartment complexes and family compounds surrounded by walls built from brown concrete, limestone, and rusted scrap metal. The outsides seemed depressing at first but years of Soviet oppression taught people to let the outside look drab and uninviting while the insides are generally very nice and inviting.

In addition to writing about the problems, however, PCV bloggers such Eric's Peace Corp Adventure In Azerbaijan have also detailed what steps are being taken to address them.

Things have been going well lately. Yesterday the trainees took part in an environmental clean-up initiative sponsored by a new recycling company in the area. Until now, there has been no system set up for the recycling of plastic bottles in the Sumqayit region. Bottles, along with most other waste, has been disposed of by burning. With the help of this new company, however, there will be an opportunity for people to dispose of their plastic trash in an environmentally safe way.

The trainees met yesterday near the beach by the Caspian Sea, armed with rubber gloves and garbage bags, with the goal of picking up plastic bottles. Although the large truck was filled up quickly, we made only a small dent in the overall plastic problem near the beach. But the important thing is that it was a start, and media coverage of the event might publicize the dangers of plastic to the environment. […]

But, with patriarchy prevalent throughout the South Caucasus region, posts can irk some Azerbaijanis. At the beginning of October, for example, Jeff at 27 Months in Azerbaijan describes one of the better students attending his English-language class.

My student’s name is Fidan. She’s awesome. […] After she scolded a boy in the class for actin-a-fool, I told her she needed to calm down a little bit. She responded by saying “Mr. Jeffrey, today I am calm like a cat.”

“Wow. What are you like when you’re angry?”

“Like a tiger.”

I almost fell down it was so good. For context, no one in my school speaks English this well. Not only did she know the words she was saying, but she spoke them with an ease and attitude that was missing from my other students. […]

She also had a great attitude. Most young Azerbaijani women are shy and reserved, following the be-seen-and-not-heard mentality (this is true at least for young women around men, which by definition how they are around me. […]

[…]

[…] Fidan’s family falls on the more ‘rusified’ part of that mix which makes them, and her, seem to have a more western mentality. She listened to different music, is critical of injustices in society, and has a strong intellectual curiousity. […]

An Azerbaijani male reader, Atilla, took exception to the post and attacked the PCV blogger.

Hey dude, I would suggest that you be a little careful about the language you use in describing the Azerbaijani culture and women. Yes my way of living, life style and understanding of honor is much different than American men (thanks to God), but it doesn’t make my culture or way of living abnormal. […] I would suggest you to refrain from assesing cultures and women of other nations. I am proud of being Azerbaijani and being a real men vs. the girly men like creatures in USA who can’t have no understanding of honor and extremly immoral. Soo keep your morale and propoganda for American women. Nobody here wants to listen your “precious” and highly subjective and illogical advise. […]

27 Months in Azerbaijan responded in a separate post and highlights why information from the regions of the country is so important.

[…] I could be completely wrong about this, but I’m 95% sure that this Atilla character is a Bakuvian. When I go to Baku, especially after having spent a long time in the regions, that I’m going to different country. People move differently. They act differently and have access to more information, entertainment, and opportunities that those in the regions. Because Atilla comes from such an environment (again, that’s my assumption), my description of Azerbaijan doesn’t fit the one that he has. […] Still, I stand by the claim that I don’t think that everyone in Baku is in touch with the situation in the regions. If the entire country was like Baku, they wouldn’t need Peace Corps Volunteers. Things are quite different out here,and that not only goes for the development that has taken place over the past few years, but also the mentality of the people and the culture. So while it may be alright in Baku for young women to do something like go outside by themselves, or use the internet, or take a test to see if they are qualified to study in America for a year, it can be very different situation in the regions.

The issue of gender in Azerbaijan also cropped up on another blog run by a PCV volunteer in Azerbaijan, KZ in AZ.

[…] the project is basically informing women about the Azerbaijan Family code funded by the Norwegian Embassy. To briefly explain if women get divorced here the law states that the husband gets 100% of everything. It doesn’t matter whose fault it was or who asked for a divorce (which in this culture is only men anyways.) Women who have experienced divorce often have to orphan their children and move back in with their parents. This is because they don’t have money to support their children and a divorced woman is “spoiled” and will never be able to be married again. It’s a very tragic situation and although taboo happens much more often then people would like to believe.

Our project aims to reach over 150 young women from Khachmaz, Mingachevir, Zagatala and Lankaran regions on the Family Code and incite discussions of this issue within the regional population. […] We talk about family and marriage explaining the juridical aspects. We inform these women about Family Code and Marriage Contracts. […] We hope this will lead to participation in the restoration of the violated women rights and create sense of self-confidence among women. […]

Veemo in the Azerbaijan also touched upon the subject.

Discussions with other volunteers about blogs have made me feel that I say very little about my perception of the local culture. In truth, there are so many nuances I'm still trying to understand about Azeri culture and we've had it drilled into our heads that it isn't our place to change or judge their culture (not that I want to anyway, if I were a local I wouldn't be too kind to some foreigner coming in and telling me I am wrong about everything I know), and yes there are a lot of things that for me as a fiercely independent, single woman raised in the Western world that I have a hard time digesting.

[…]

I recently met a young woman, probably younger than I am, whom I tried to comfort in Baku. A fellow volunteer and I were walking behind her and her male escort (which we determined to be her brother or her husband by the “protective” way he treated her) and as soon as he left, she burst into tears, and rightfully so. […] I tried my hand at comforting Azeri but she spoke English well and she told me that he was her husband and she did not love him at all, her parents forced her to marry him and she was unhappy. […]

[…]

That is not to say that all Azeri men have unchecked behavior towards women, my current host family has me living in a home with a married couple and their 2 young boys. The boys call me aunt since their parents are so close to my own age, my host brother treats his wife quite well and is affectionate with his sons. […] It makes me hopeful for an improvement on Azeri gender relations and roles for future generations.

Of course, PCV blogs are not only full of posts on gender or the environment. Indeed, in among the reflections on life in the regions of transitional countries such as Azerbaijan there are posts on the cuisine and also reflections on their stay when the time comes to leave.

I learned that we live WAAAAAY in excess in the States and am sure I will feel that for a long time to come and hopefully live a little more within what I know is fine for me.

The people of AZ are amazingly kind, friendly and caring people and I am extremely grateful for their hospitality-they made trip unforgettable

There is a list of past and present PCV blogs from Azerbaijan at http://www.peacecorpsjournals.com/aj.html.

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Brazil: The country pays homage to the Samba master

Paula Góes · 09:12, October 12th, 2008 · Americas

lingua → pt · es

Before reading on, please check out the accompanying samba soundtrack for this post.

If he was alive, Angenor de Oliveira (1908-1980), better known as Cartola, would be celebrating 100 years this October 11. To put it simply, Cartola was one of the most important figures in Brazilian samba and the composer behind the first samba school in Rio de Janeiro. Despite having only 4 years of formal education, Cartola composed or co-composed over 500 songs, all of them presenting very elaborate but simple lyrics which are deeply loved by Brazilians.

“Cartola did not exist. It was a dream that we had”, has said Nelson Sargento, another legendary Brazilian composer. On the centenary of this dream, bloggers pay homage publishing their favorite song or poem, quotes, videos, photos and bits and pieces of Cartola's history, a history inextricably linked with the history of samba itself.

Danton K [pt] talks about Cartola's poor childhood - he was the fourth of seven children - and how this made him interested in music.

Angenor de Oliveira nasceu no bairro do Catete, no Rio de Janeiro, no dia 11 de outubro de 1908. Tinha oito anos quando sua família se mudou para Laranjeiras e 11 quando passou a viver no morro da Mangueira, de onde não mais se afastaria. Desde menino participou das festas de rua, tocando cavaquinho no rancho Arrepiados e nos desfiles do Dia de Reis. Passando por diversas escolas, conseguiu terminar o curso primário, mas aos 15 anos, depois da morte da mãe, deixou a família e a escola, iniciando sua vida de boêmio.

Angenor de Oliveira was born in the neighborhood of Catete, in Rio de Janeiro, on October 11, 1908. He was 8 when his family moved to Laranjeiras and 11 when they went to live in the Mangueira slum, which he would never leave. From a young age he participated in street festivals, playing Cavaquinho in the Arrepiados carnival groups and the twelfth day parades. He went through several schools, and managed to finish primary school, but only at 15 years. After the death of his mother, he left the family and school and began his bohemian life.

It was there in the neighborhood of Mangueira that Cartola met other sambistas and the malandragem. At 19 years, in 1928, with a group of friends, Cartola played an important role in founding a carnival group that later became Estação Primeira de Mangueira, one of the most loved samba-schools in Brazil. Douglas Ceconello [pt] talks about how he combined his two passions in this project:

Cartola não apenas fundou a Estação Primeira de Mangueira como escolheu as cores e o nome. O verde e rosa, achava ele, referiam-se às tonalidades de seu querido e amado - o que naquela época devia parecer bastante paradoxal - Fluminense.

Not only did Cartola found the Estação Primeira de Mangueira but he chose its colors and name. The green and pink, he thought, referred to the shades of his dear and beloved team - which at that time should seem rather paradoxical - Fluminense [Football Club].

In the Mangueira balls, Cartola was distinguished by his elegance and good taste. Luis Castro tells us that Angenor was nicknamed Cartola, the Portuguese word for top hat, because of his excessive care with his appearance. It refers to the bowler hat he wore to keep the cement from ruining his hair style while working as a builder. He also did odd jobs, was a car-washer, a wall-painter, a waiter, a security guard and so on. Castro describes him as a genius:

Cartola was an alive proof of the God wisdom, born black, poor, had no religion, no formal education, lived his entire life over the slums (favelas) and has composed the most beautiful samba verses ever wrote and left a incredible legacy for the Brazilian people.

Murilo Gitel [pt] remembers that as happens with many genius, the sambista was only recognized as such after his death, on November 30, 1980. When he died of cancer at 72 years, samba had just started to leave the favela and hit the city streets. Cartola died, however, nearly as poor as when he was born:

Curiosamente, o artista só começou a ter visibilidade nacional aos 65 anos, quando lançou o clássico LP Cartola, apesar de ter se interessado pela música desde cedo. Em 1976, Beth Carvalho grava As Rosas Não Falam e o sucesso da canção faz com que o poeta apaixonado pelo cigarro, pela cachaça e pelo violão desse um salto considerável em sua carreira. No entanto, Cartola morreu pobre, há 28 anos, numa casa doada pela Prefeitura Municipal do Rio.

Curiously, the artist only caught the national attention at 65, when he released the classic LP Cartola, despite having been interested in music from an early age. In 1976, Beth Carvalho records As Rosas Não Falam (Roses Don't Speak) and the success of this song causes a considerable leap in the career of the poet passionate about cigarettes, rum and acoustic guitar. Despite his popularity, Cartola died poor, 28 years ago, in a house donated to him by the Municipality of Rio [de Janeiro].

Leandro Luiz Rodrigues [pt] explains that for Cartola, music and money didn't go together and so many of his songs were given free or nearly for free to friends:

Sempre viveu à margem da sociedade que o consumiu, só gravou o primeiro LP aos 65 anos e nunca entendeu como uma música (para ele compor era tão natural quanto qualquer necessidade fisiológica) podia ser comercializada. Vendeu suas composições sempre a preço de banana. Quantas belas músicas creditadas a outros compositores não saíram da mesma cabeça que criou “As rosas não falam”?

He always lived on the edge of the society that consumed [his art], he only recorded his first LP at 65 and he never understood how a song (composing for him was as natural as any physiological need) could be commercialized. He always sold compositions at a bargain price. How many beautiful songs credited to other composers in fact came from same mind that created “As rosas não falam”?

Journalist Monica Ramalho [pt], who has researched and written extensively about Cartola, publishes a piece she wrote in 2006, when her then editor commissioned a story showing a different side of the sambista. Here is an excerpt of an interview she did with Ronaldo de Oliveira, Cartola's adopted son, who regrets not having appreciated Cartola the musician as much, but remembers many of his father's lessons:

De uma delas, em especial, o herdeiro não esquece. “Quando tinha uns 16 anos, fiquei desempregado. Cheguei para ele e falei: ‘Seu Cartola, amanhã não precisa me chamar às 6h porque eu fui mandado embora'. Ele respondeu: ‘Tá bem', mas quando chegou no outro dia, Cartola foi lá me acordar no mesmo horário de sempre. Eu reclamei e ele disse: ‘Eu sei, meu filho, mas levanta e vai procurar um emprego. Ou então faz alguma coisa, varre o quintal, arruma o armário, sei lá, ou você vai se acostumar a levantar tarde e não vai mais procurar emprego'.

One of them, in particular, his heir does not forget. “When I was about 16 years, I lost my job. I came to him and said: ‘Mr Cartola, you need not wake me up at 6am tomorrow because I have been fired.” He replied: ‘All right', but then next day Cartola woke me up at the usual time. I complained and he said: ‘I know, my son, but get up and go to look for a job. Or go and do something, sweep the backyard, tidy up the wardrobe, whatever, otherwise you will get used to getting up in the afternoon and will not seek further employment.

His music

Bruno Galera [pt] who has, in another post, compared Cartola with the Blues masters in Mississipi, tries to explain the effect his music has on him:

Mas outra coisa importante sobre a música dele é o que notei hoje: é impossível se acostumar. Sempre que paro para realmente prestar atenção na letra e no andamento que ele dá à declamação, acabo invariavelmente sendo obliterado por alegria e tristeza profundas. Conta-se nos dedos de uma mão quantos músicos conseguiram imprimir efeito similar à minha pessoa. Algo que posso classificar como regozijo absoluto.

But there is another important thing about his music I noticed today: it is impossible to get used to it. Whenever I stop really paying attention to the lyrics and the way he recites them, I invariably end up obliterated by deep sadness and joy. Only a handful of musicians manage to have a similar effect on me. Something I can describe as absolute delight.

Mário Chrispim [pt] goes on about a natural talent for music that welled up:

Embora não tivesse estudo musical teórico, Cartola possuía uma inventividade musical assombrosa. Tinha soluções harmônicas muito sofisticadas que não eram comuns no meio do samba. Além disto, era um letrista brilhante, que criava imagens poéticas fortes e originais.

Although he didn't study music theory, Cartola had an astonishing musical inventiveness. He came up with very sophisticated harmonic solutions that were not common in the samba field. Furthermore, he was a brilliant lyrics writer, who created strong and innovative poetic images.

Because of this, Elisa Queiros [pt] says that Cartola belongs to all Brazilians, to all of those who can understand the beauty of lyrics composed by a poet who laments to the roses over the loss of a woman he loved only to realise that the roses had stolen her perfum:

Pela natureza de suas melodias e harmonias, simpliciade cotidiana de suas letras, Cartola toca nossos corações e se torna trilha sonora de nossas vidas, de forma que cada um se apropria dele - Cartola é de todos, é de cada um.

With the nature of his melodies and harmonies, the everyday simplicity of his lyrics, Cartola touches our hearts and becomes the soundtrack of our lives, so that each one of us borrow him - Cartola belongs to all, he belongs to everyone.