Saturday, August 30, 2008

Philanthropic genocide

Admitting Karen refugees from the overcrowded refugee camps in Thailand by the ten thousands the U.S. is committing cultural genocide, said a Karen Burmese political asylee and a volunteer Karen translator from New York.

She says so because she believes that many of the newly arrived refugees will lose their Karen identity over the generations. That the language of this small ethnic minority, whose population is estimated to be between three and six million, will die out as refugee children and parents adapt to their new surroundings in the U.S. That the Karen will not be able to sustain, breed and evolve their cultural heritage in exile. That the Karen culture and heritage might be extinct if there is no political intervention in Burma. 

The Karen are an ethnic minority mostly living in the slim Karen state that is nestled between Thailand and the Southern tip of Myanmar. They are also an ethnic minority that has been purged by the Burmese military junta for fighting for independence since 1948. The Karen National Union, a group of ethnically Karen rebel troops, is considered a terrorist group by both the military junta and the United States.

In the past years, thousands of Karen refugees are now finding new homes in places like New York City, Fort Wayne, Indiana or Elizabeth, New Jersey. Many of them had been living in refugee camps along the Thai-Burmese border for up to 20 years. They fled persecution in their homeland; rape, murder, arbitrary taxation, displacement. For up to 20 years they have been waiting to return to their home country but, alas, the junta is as stubborn as it was twenty years ago during the student protests that were crushed with gun fire and tanks.

To a certain extent U.S. has accepted this sad fact. They have accepted that the 150,000 refugees living along the Thai-Burmese border might not be able to go back to Myanmar in the foreseeable future. And so, one year ago, the Bush administration committed to taking in up to 20,000 Burmese refugees per year from Thai refugee camps.

And that, to the asylee, is cultural genocide.

She echoes a sentiment often expressed by several Myanmar refugees. Many lament that thousands, both well-educated activists and poor farmers, are leaving the country, shifting a successful coup against the junta out of reach by exporting any potential opposition leaders or cultivators of ethnic cultures.

She also hints at the dissatisfaction that many in and from Myanmar feel with the international community. In a recent article in the New Yorker about Myanmar, one interviewee said:
"The only solution is for the U.S, to drop a bomb on Naypyidaw [a city in the heart of Myanmar]. That's the only way!"

What has been done after more than 45 years of a Myanmar under military regime is that the U.N. moved Myanmar onto the top of their agenda in recent years. Yet, as the restricted access for aid to reach Myanmar during the Cyclone has shown, this administrative move has done little to change the situation.

But what can be done? Economic embargos on the country by Western countries seem ineffective when other Asian countries are still doing business with Myanmar. And placing the burden of a(nother) military mission to bring democracy to a dictatorship on the U.S. might be a lot to ask, considering the current economic crisis and the political struggles that come with that.

And though the asylee's comment is extreme she poses an interesting question:
How do you continue to foster and develop a culture that has been exiled from its breeding ground?

Can you resuscitate a language, an ethnic identity, a way of life that is more and more solely existing in the past?

And to come back to those people that the Burmese Karen asylee was speaking about:
How can those, who are beginning a new life somewhere else, carry on traditions, manners and beliefs on foreign soil without a critical mass of their own people and without access to the homeland that provides exposure to their ethnic group?





Fashion video

A fashion video I recently edited. 

Monday, July 28, 2008

The new role of the image...?

Someone talked to me recently, told me that it'd take very long to take a great shot. You wake up before dawn, he said, you go on top of a tall building, talk your way in, if you have to. Or you schlepp yourself from street to street, the body of your camera dangling off your neck, the strap grinding its way to your bladebone. A quasimodo-to-be, ten years from now. Or you swarm around troublemakers, a parasite digging invisible, needle-like arms into the open pores of their subject/object. 

You get the right angle, turn a little wheel on your camera, correct your lighting, click, you got your shot. 

It sounds like an idealist's ode to the photojournalist. And yes, there seem to be a few great photographers out there, who seem to be able to live for a month on one photo's earnings. 

But the viewer clicks on. To photo slideshows, photo series, photos tagged in albums, to interactive maps and graphics. And so a photographer either goes on a scavenger hunt for the next interactive map, running from one building/person/event to the next; or has to take mug shots of 50 people who give representative opinions, Man-On-The-Street polls on the elections, Britney Spears, Detergent; or is s/he is one of 40 random photographers who work for Getty Images, the AP, Reuters, Corbis, who contribute namelessly to a larger project. 

It slaps the photog ego in the face, which is sort of satisfactory to me. It takes away from Walter Benjamin's prediction that photography politicizes/is inherently politicized due to its fake objectivity, its need for a verbal framing. Now the multimedia framing negates its singularity. Takes away from its wordlessness. Contextualizes the photograph for the consumer, while s/he is just as capable of re-contextualizing the image through posting it on facebook/blogger.  The image has become a free-floating currency. The iconic image mutates into a malleable (both in size and meaning) broche, worn, traded, bought, lost, sold. And it loses its charisma, or to use Benjamin's vocabulary, its aura, once more. 

Thursday, July 10, 2008

Saturday, July 5, 2008

Mao and me

mao_and_me

So here are some observations I've made about life in China:
Some cleaning personnel like to mop carpeted floors here. 
Some little boys piss on the railings of the Forbidden Palace. 
Many people don't give a flying rats ass whether you've been waiting in line and will try to take the spot in front of you. 
For a two-month-period before and during the Olympics, Beijing residents will only be allowed to drive their cars on either even or odd-numbered days. 
Oh, and they are shooting missiles into clouds to make them disperse.  


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Friday, July 4, 2008

From Olympics craze to multimedia craziness

china_cheerleading_1
Cheerleaders presenting their skillz at a press conference organized by the Olympic Committee

I'm experiencing the (physical) pain of being a multimedia reporter. I've been lugging about all sorts of equipment, amounting to about half my weight. I photographed, videotaped, interviewed, even tried to do a stand-up today and will also write a story on these lovely, pompom-swinging girls (while working on six other videos).

So this is the life of a multimedia reporter? I sometimes wonder whether this is just a temporary stage, a transitional phase that will pass and after which a time will come when reporters will once again be able to choose between being photographers, videographers and writers. I wonder which part I'd take and whether being a jack of all trades will have become a habit, a way of life that will both exhaust me, cripple me but also exhilarate me to the extent that I would prefer it to a one-tracked profession.

National Opera
The inside of the National Theatre in Beijing, taken while on a shoot for a video about architecture

I'm sure I'm preaching to the choir. Almost everyone in the business has been lamenting this change. Job cuts here. More unpaid web filing there. Journalists are bearing the burden while media business models are STILL adjusting to the age of mouse-click readers.

But this sudden web-panic has given us 'youngens' a leg-up in this profession. I'm 23, got a well-paid job at one of the big ones and don't feel completely inadequate amidst these Pulitzer-prize-winning reporters because I have a technical fluency they don't (don't get me wrong, I still know that I'm an unworthy minion in comparison to them, but at least I can be of use to them). All the while, I'm getting great journalistic training while on the job with the crop of the creme. And I know that many of my fellow new media majors have gotten great jobs with big companies because they have these skills on top of being good journos. I guess, a little bit of back pain, is a small price to pay for these perks.

Beijing Architecture
Beijing traffic from the Arup office, a company that helped constructing the CCTV tower, taking as I was setting up a camera for an interview