Signs of the earthquake in Haiti are everywhere in neighboring Dominican Republic. Hospitals are overflowing with the injured, aid workers fill the hotels, and signs asking people to send a text message and donate to the Haiti relief effort plaster the main thoroughfare through Santo Domingo.
The center of Port-au-Prince—its palace, ministries, schools and office buildings—lies in ruins. On January 12, the earth shook for less than a minute, but in those 35 seconds, buildings cracked and toppled, floors of concrete collapsing one atop the other, crushing hundreds of thousands of people as they fell.
Some of the most impoverished parts of the Dominican Republic are batayes - shantytowns that once housed sugar industry workers. For years, Haitian labor fueled the Dominican's large sugar industry. When the sector collapsed, many of these people had nowhere else to go – some had been in the country for decades and no longer had homes in Haiti; others were born in the Dominican Republic. Unemployment in the bateyes today is sky high; the HIV rate is also far higher than the national average.
In the last 18 months I have traveled through five continents reporting about research on, and impacts of, climate change. In Europe I reported on the heatwave of 2003, which scientists say was made more likely by Earth's rising temperatures. I interviewed researchers who predict more and warmer extreme heat events in the coming decades. In India and Bangladesh I reported on the impacts and possible responses to rising sea levels caused by melting glaciers and warming sea water.
On the front lines of Obama's campaign in Afghanistan.
Mondays and Fridays are market days in Dajabon, the small frontier town in the northwest of the Dominican Republic on the border with Haiti.
This is the first post of Living on the Margins: Haitians in the Dominican Republic. There are two of us reporting – I'm Stephanie Hanes, a print reporter; looking over my shoulder at the screen is Steve Sapienza, a video journalist. We've collaborated before with the Pulitzer Center.
The elephant in the room of my reporting on security issues within India and Pakistan is the messy, insecure relationship between them. The components of that relationship will be familiar to students of territorial conflict elsewhere: perennial border skirmishes punctuated alternately by all-out war and half-hearted peace talks; sporadic public outbursts calling for deadly final solutions mixed with heart-rending anecdotes about cross-border love.
President Ali Abdullah Saleh, who once described ruling Yemen as dancing on the heads of snakes, has stayed in power for three decades through a clever mix of money, tribal ploys and government corru
Reporting from Cairo and Sana'a, Yemen
The terrorist who's dead is still alive.
A perverse contradiction? No, just another day in the Yemen news cycle, where rebels, separatists, extremists and government officials conjure a surreal world of spin, lies and propaganda. It makes one wonder if reality exists at all in this cruel and beautiful land.
Reproduced with permission from The Christian Science Monitor.
The specialists know the warning signs. Analysts and scientists and field officers and academics spend years writing white papers, issuing reports and holding conferences, trying to provoke interest in issues that often seem arcane. Please, they have urged governments and the United Nations and activists, think about something that sounds boring – land disputes – before it turns into something that is not – war.
"I'm not going to Kashmir," said my brother defiantly. We were in the ticket line at the New Delhi airport about to board a flight to Srinigar, the capital of Kashmir. "I just don't have a good feeling about going to this place, it's just too dangerous." When I looked at the fear in his eyes, I realized there was no way he would board the plane.