#598 – Dick Bernard: Sami Rasouli

Last evening I was with what seemed to be about 200 or so others who had gathered to honor Sami Rasouli at the Crescent Moon Banquet Hall in northeast Minneapolis.
Sami: native of Najaf, Iraq; thence Minneapolis resident and restaurateur and U.S. citizen; thence back to Najaf to work at restoring destroyed relationships between the U.S. and Iraq; establishing Muslim Peacemaker Teams on the model of Christian Peacemaker Teams. Sami also was the inspiration which became the Iraqi & American Reconciliation Project.
It was an inspiring evening, and I’m glad I went over to northeast Minneapolis. The evening was an honor richly deserved by Sami Rasouli.
The name “Sami Rasouli” is well known in the peace and justice community, and the cuisine community of the Twin Cities. His Sinbad’s restaurant was well known. In fact, the first speaker last night was Jeremy Iggers, long the Food critic of the Minneapolis Star Tribune and more recently Executive Director of Twin Cities Media Alliance, which publishes the popular on-line newspaper, the Twin Cities Daily Planet.
In 2009, the city of Minneapolis entered into a ‘sister city’ relationship with Sammy’s home city of Najaf, Iraq. It is not a routine matter to become a sister city, and a real mutual honor to any city which enters into such a relationship. Najaf is one of only nine cities throughout the world that are ‘sister cities’ to Minneapolis, and Minneapolis has an extensive sister city program compared to most.
It is an impossible task to adequately summarize Sami Rasouli in a column such as this, which is why I reference the google page on Sami above.
Enroute home after last nights event, I decided to word search my computer to find out whence came my first reference to Sami Rasouli. The result, two very long posts from Iraq in early 2005, are at the end of this blog. Similarly, the first photograph I have is from a meeting with Cong. Betty McCollum’s staff in St. Paul in March of 2007. That photo is below.
At an early point I was asked to join the committee which ultimately resulted in the Iraqi & American Reconciliation Project. I participated but only for a very short time, solely because there are only so many hours in a day, and too many possibilities of things to participate in. I am delighted that the organization endures and is succeeding.
There are many people who are inspirations by their actions. Some are very well known, like Gandhi and Martin Luther King.
The real inspirational people are those like Sami Rasouli who by largely anonymous work and action every day make this world a better place.

(click to enlarge)

Sami Rasouli at Cong. Betty McCollums office, St. Paul, March 13, 2007


Here are the first two transmissions I have via Sami, filed in early 2005. While very long, I am publishing them unedited to retain the writers full intention.
Date: Mon, 17 Jan 2005 05:50:04 -0800 (PST)
From: Sami Rasouli

Subject: My recent trip to Ain At tammer.
Dear friends,
I would like you to share with me the following report about my recent trip to Ain At tammer accompanying two courageous Iraqi ladies, Dr. Eman and Dr. Intisar for examining and evaluating the horrible conditions of the people who escaped the destruction of their hometown Fallujah. This story is written by Dr. Eman.
Be safe and may God bless your souls,
Sami
Jan13,2005
Ein Tamor (Spring of Dates) is a small picturesque spot in the western Iraqi desert, 90 kilometers to the west of the sacred Karbala. It is part of a bigger oasis that contains the Razzazah Lake, many smaller towns, date palm and fruit thick orchards surrounding the lake, and a very important historical fortress called Al-Ekheider Castle. In the seventies, this area was developed as a resort; a tourist complex was built in Ein Tamor.
The tourist complex was fifty small flats surrounding the lake and the colorful natural springs. After the 1991 war, and during the UN economic sanctions against Iraq through the nineties until 2003, this tourist area was neglected, like many other similar places all over Iraq. During this period, when tourism was not a priority in Iraq, the complex was mainly visited by newly wed couples who spent their honey moon there. In April 2003, after the occupation of Iraq, the complex was looted and damaged, nothing remained except the walls.
Now it is a refugee camp for more than 50 Fallujan families, who fled the bombing and killings last October. It is like Habbaniya, another refugee camp, which was a tourist complex 40 kilometers to the north, near the Habbaniya Lake.
Obviously, Fallujans fled to these places because there were walls and roofs which can be used as better shelters than tents in the cold season. Ein Tamor, once one of the most beautiful areas of Iraq where picnics were made especially in winter, is now one of the saddest places. To go there, one has to go through the Triangle of death south of Baghdad, where many attacks against the occupying troops take place daily.
Usually it takes an hour to go to Karbalaa. It took us 3 hours, because of the check points, a bombed car that was still on fire, and traffic jam due to fuel (kilometers-long) queues. The roads are not the same. I used to go there to visit my grand mother. These are not the roads I used to go through; they are not roads at all, nothing is straight, just snake-like curves in the dusty wilderness. Paradoxically, the way from Karbalaa to Ein Tamor was calmer, better, and easier to go through, although the Iraqi Human Rights Watch members who accompanied us to the refugee camp warned us of looters.
The refugee camp was a club of sadness. Every one there had a story, even the children.
“No one visited us, except these people” said Sabiha Hashim, pointing to the Iraqi HRW members who accompanied us. She is a crippled widow in her fifties, and a mother of two young boys. She was burnt two years ago, and was handicapped since. Wrapped in a blanket, she was sitting in the middle of her miserable properties. Few dirty dishes, a blackened broken oil lamp that has not been cleaned ever, small primitive oil stove…etc. There was a new electric heater donated by some generous donor, but there was no electricity. Sabiha was silent,” why do not you talk to this lady” Sami of the Iraqi HRW asked her, pointing to me,” she came from Baghdad to see you”.
“She did not ask” replied Sabiha.
“How did you come here?” I asked looking for some thing to say, after I saw her inhuman, totally unacceptable situation.
“The neighbors brought me when the bombing began”
” She promised to give me a dinar for every joke I tell her” said Sami, trying to lighten the very gloomy atmosphere ” she is my fiancée now”
“poor Sami” I said, “now you have to look for 1000 jokes to get 1000 dinars” ($ 0.7)
“What do you need”, I asked Sabiha
“My medicine”
“What is it?”
“I do not know, I did not bring the doctor’s receipt, there was no time. It is unfair” that was the only thing Sabiha said about her tragedy.
I looked for my friend Dr. Intisar, she is a pharmacist who is working with me and other Iraqi doctors to help Falluja refugees with medicines and supplies. I could not see her any where, but I could see a big crowd of women and children near the gate.
“Your friend, Dr. Intisar, is examining the children and giving medicines”, said Ismael Chali, a man in his fifties who is helping in running the camp.
It was not raining that day, Ein Tamor was sunny and warm. The gardens are no more than dusty yards now, few dry trees scattered, the once beautiful tourist flats are just walls, with hanging sheets of cloths serving as doors and windows. Falluja women did amazing job keeping the whole place clean.
“May be you want to see this old man” Sami said and pointed to a man sitting in the sun, two crunches in his hands. Hussein Abdul Nabbi, had an accident and broke his thighs. He is the father of a family of 18; two of them are young and very healthy looking men.
“What are you doing here?” I asked them, in a rather criticizing tone.
“Waiting for God’s mercy” one of them replied,” we are cotton carders, our shop was burnt, three electric sewing machines, cotton and cloths that worth 2 million dinars, and other equipments ,all are gone”
“But staying here does not help, does it” I insisted
“We went to Falluja a week ago; we waited the whole day but could not pass through the check points. Next day we went at 3 am, it was not before 3 pm that we could pass through the third sonar check point. Our house was destroyed, there is a huge hole in the ceiling, the fence is totally ruined, and the furniture damaged. The soldiers told us not to move out side the house or open the door after 6 pm. We are not supposed to make any noise; there is no electricity, no water, no shops, no hospitals, and no schools. How are we supposed to live there with our families? There are no families there, only men, those who can not live in tents any longer.”
Other Fallujans told us that burning houses, bombing and looting are still going on until now.
Mustapha, 20 years, a student, said that he found his house, the furniture, the door, and the car destroyed and burnt. But the American soldiers told him not to use any thing from Falluja, not to use the sheets and blankets for example, not to drink water, and that if he does, it is his own decision and he has to take the responsibility for that.
“What does that mean?”
It means that everything in Falluja is contaminated” ”
Ahmad Hashim, a guard in the Falluja sewage station, and a father of 3 children, found his house, which was no more than a room under the water tank, burnt.” If a child gets ill, he simply dies, it is suicide to decide to go back to Falluja now”
Alahin Jalil, a young beautiful wife and a mother of 4 children, decided to go back home , no matter what. She was too tired of difficulties in the refugee camp, “I have to go to Karbalaa for medicines, there is no water here, no fuel, no money” . When she went to Falluja, she found out that her house which was in Nazzal district, one of the most bombed areas in Falluja, was totally destroyed. She decided to return back to the refugee camp, but it was not a better option. “For the whole family we get half a sheet of ampiciline (anti-biotic)
Money was the most difficult problem in the camp. These families consumed all their savings, if they had any. Food is given according to the food ration ID. Many of them fled Falluja without bringing their documents. Those get no food.
“What about the 150.000 dinars that are given to each Falluja family that we read about in the newspapers this week?”
“We never heard about them” every body replied. Where is UN, the Iraqi government, the humanitarian orgs, the Red Crescent, the Red Cross…they asked.
Darawsha is a small village 5 kilometers to the west of Ein Tamor. The Iraqi HRW in Karbalaa told us that its villagers share their houses with Falluja refugees. When we entered Darawsha, I remembered what James Baker said before the 1991 American attack on Iraq. “We will return Iraq to the middle ages” he said. This is not even the middle ages. The narrow muddy streets, small clay huts were dark, cold and crowded with big families. The smoky burning wet branches are not giving warmth to the damp cottages, more than the thick suffocating smoke .
Sheikh Farhan Al-Duleimi, the local council head, said” my name is Farhan (happy), but I am very sad for what happened to Falluja… at the same time this is a good example of the Shiite-Sunni unity in Iraq. Darawsha families are all Shiite, but they are welcoming Sunnis from Falluja as if they are one family, despite the fact that they are poor, and already in need of much help themselves.
We decided to stop in the middle of the village, and to donate the medicines and financial help to the families, promising them and ourselves to come back again to listen to their stories. It was already 4 pm, we need to hurry back because it is too dangerous to be on the highway after sunset. There are at least 85 Falluja families here. Dr. Intisar opened the car box and began to donate medicines. A young, shy girl approached her and said “do you need help, I am a pharmacist”. We asked the villagers to form a committee with at least one woman in it, to receive the money and distribute it on the Falluja refugees.
“You need to go to Rahaliya and Ahmad bin Hashim villages” said Abbass, from the Iraqi HRW, who was accompanying us all the time,” the situation in those refugee camps are much more difficult, and they rarely get any help, because they are too far away”
“Then we need to come back again soon”, I replied
“Yes, you have also to visit refugees from Basra, Amara and the marshes”
“What are you talking about?”
“There are refugees from the south, fleeing from the worsening security situation”
The way back to Baghdad was the most difficult part of the trip. At 5.30 it was deep dark. No lights on the way, no moon and too much dust. Some of the check points were already deserted by security men. The highway was almost empty except of us. “If you were men I would not worry “Ahmad, our driver said. We could tell that he was very tense, reading lines of the Holy Quran all the time, and smoking too much. “Those looters are the worst of criminals”.
Dr. Intisar was very calm and exhausted “I love you” she suddenly said.
I was too tired to ask what made her say so. Surprisingly, we were not afraid at all, of any thing.
Date: Thu, 3 Feb 2005 07:15:28 -0800 (PST)
From: Sami Rasouli

Subject: My 3rd trip to fullujah Refuhees Camps on Jan. 21, 05
Dear Friends,
Here is part II of my third trip I made to refugees of Fallujah in areas of Karbala with Eman, Intisar, Ahmed and Abou Ali the driver. This report is written by my friend Eman again.
Next story will be about the ELECTION IN IRAQ soon.
Be well and may God save your people and protect your cities,
Sami
We were supposed to leave to Karabla’a, and from there to two Falloja refugee camps deep in the western desert, at 7 am, but Ahmad who insisted on accompanying us for protection, showed up at 9.00am. I was impatient.
-“I had to stay with my family for awhile; there were American snipers on my roof” he explained…
-What?!!
He told me the story. His wife went up the roof to check the water tank at 4.30am. For the last three days there was no water in Baghdad. Families fill their water tanks at night when water is available some times. It was still dark. On the roof, she was taking another ladder to go up the attic roof, when she heard a “shshshsh …” sound. Stunned, she looked in its direction, she could not figure out what was there, then she realized that there was a man, an American soldier, heavily armed, pointing his gun at her. Another voice, whispering, came from the other side of the roof, this time it was another soldier, a black one. He said some thing in English and the first soldier put his gun down. He waved to her to go down silently. She did, but she did not know what to do next. She decided to wait for a while. Half an hour later she went up again, they were gone. When she waked up her husband she was still shivering, it took him two hours to calm her down.
Eid?!!
This is the second day of Eid Aladha (Sacrifice Feast)*. There were not any of the usual Eid manifestations in Baghdad streets, no children in new colorful dresses, no traffic jam of jubilant families celebrating Eid, visiting relatives and friends, going to parks…etc. The streets were almost empty, except for few quickly driving cars, Iraqi National Guards pick ups, filled with young men in black masks pointing their guns in every direction, police cars and a very long line of American big trucks loaded with tanks and many humvees and armored vehicles heading north. The streets themselves were not of Baghdad that we knew. Sand barriers, cement blocks, burned out and destroyed buildings, with many elections posters pasted every where. Dr.Intisar, my friend, the pharmacist with whom I am working on donating medicines and aids for Falluja refugees, was weeping silently as usual. I remembered that Christmas and New Year celebrations were canceled too. This is the election season, which is in Iraq very different from any where else; it is also the season of extreme insecurity.
On the Way
On the way, through what is called now the Triangle of death south of Baghdad, the situation was worse. Too long queues at the check points, even longer queues at fuel stations, many ING pick ups stopping at the road sides, too serious masked men jump quickly and run in different directions, obviously on a dangerous duty. Some of them were at the check points handing over elections announcements, many burned or destroyed cars, walls covered with bullet shot holes . One of the buildings in Haswa was flattened to the ground; a new neighboring building was thickly surrounded by 2 meter high sand barriers.” This is the new police station “Abu Hussein, our driver said “the other one was exploded by cooking gas tubes”. He is from Najaf, and he works on this line long enough to be well-known at the check points. Some times we were delayed for an American patrol to pass.
Different kind of Refugees
Mr. Mohannad Al-Kinany, the Iraqi Human Rights director, with all other members, happily volunteered to help us around again. We told him that we want to see the Falluja refugee camps and the refugees from the south too. He explained to us the story of the southern refugees and how badly they are in need of help. Karbala’a population is around 790.000 thousands, he said, now they are 1.050.000. Over 200.000 refugees came since the 1990s, from Basra, Nasiriya, the marshes, Amara, and Samawa, over 70.000 came after the occupation in 2003. “It is a big problem that no one is taking care of”. These refugee communities have become a fertile ground for crime. We decided to spend the next day in these places.
Ahmad bin Hashim
On the way to Ahmad bin Hashim village (ABH) we passed by Ein Tamor camp, to greet them for the Eid and to give them the medicines that they asked for two weeks ago when we visited them last time.
Ahmad bin Hashim is the name of a grandson of Imam Mosa Al-Kadhim or Imam Al-Hassan (both are of the 12 imams in Islam who are descendants of the Prophet Mohammad family). It has been a sacred place where people visit to get the blessings in a kind of pilgrimage. It is a very beautiful calm village west of Razzaza lake. The villagers built rows of big rooms for pilgrims coming from far away places. These rooms are now the Falluja refugee camps.
Cultural Crime
Near ABH there is also an unexcavated historical site that goes back to about 4000 years. It was protected by the Iraqi police and the Tourism State Institute before the occupation. Mohannad told us that this very culturally precious site was looted after the invasion, and that the Iraqi HRW in Karbala’a has documented everything on tapes. He told us how looters attacked the place, dug the tombs and stole what ever was buried there of historical jewelry, beads and household properties… The place is buried again now by tons of sand for protection, we could see the large freshly covered area on the foot of a big castle called the Berthaweel Castle in the middle of the desert.
Roofed Walls
There are 18 Falluja families living in the ABH pilgrims’ rooms. The majority of them were from Jolan district in Falluja, which was heavily bombed last October. As expected, there is no electricity, no clean water, to bathrooms in the pilgrim’s rooms. Mohannad who owns a hotel in Karbala’a offered his hotel free to these families, but they preferred to stay near the shrine. Ten other hotel owners in Karbala’a did the same. These relatively wealthy people and others formed a group called the Karbala’i Group to collect and donate aid to the Falluja refugees here and in other places. It is another example of the Iraqi people unity between Shiite and Sunnis.
The rooms are very primitive, just roofed walls. Falluja women kept them very clean and tidy, although the rooms were used for sleeping, cooking, washing and living. The most needed thing here is medical. The sick and the old are most hurt, and of course women because they have to run everything in this too difficult environment.
Abdulrahman Khalaf, for example, suffers from chronic schizophrenia that goes back to his years in the Iranian POW camps in the 1980s. He is married, has 6 children, and very friendly. His only abnormality is repeating himself many times.
-“I am the honored one, I am the honored one, I am the honored one, I am the…..” He repeated at least 8 times, replying to Sami of the Iraqi HRW when he said “I am honored to meet you”.
He was repeating the number 50, tens of times. I felt so ashamed of myself when I thought he was asking for $50, because his relatives explained that he needs Modicate injections/50 m, and that was what he was asking me. They showed me his chronic diseases card; he used to get his medications from Falluja hospital free, as all Iraqis who have chronic illnesses used to in the past. Not any longer. I promised to bring him the medicine as soon as I can get them from Baghdad.
Solution rather than Aid
Aalaa’ Hussein, 6 years, suffers from hemiplegia; She looks ok except for her left leg which was shorter and slack. Naufa Hamza, awoman in her70s, suffers from joints pain. Tilba Ali, another old woman who does not know her age, 60 or 70, she said, suffers from diabetes. Sahira Ali, 35, suffers from hormone abnormality; she keeps on getting fatter and fatter. She also suffers from chronic diarrhea, “because of the water” she explained. Dr.Intisar saw them all and promised to send the medicines. Ahmad was busy giving the children some toys donated by the American Families for Peace delegation. I tried to take some pictures of the children, but a young tall man, dashed in, and threatened to beat one of the young girls who joined the others for the picture
“What kind of help is this, just for the media, I know your kind” he was talking to me.
“I understand your feelings very well” I replied, and did not take the picture. “Please do not beat her, here is my camera, I did not take the picture”. He left silently, giving me a very angry look.
Other men apologized, and invited us for lunch.
UN Silence Unacceptable
I did understand his feelings; at many times I feel the bitter humiliation these people feel. They do need aid, but what they need more is a solution to their problem. They are not beggars. They used to have their houses, jobs, lives and every thing. May be they were not rich, but they were dignified. Everyone said that they want to go back to Falluja. This is a big human rights violation that must be investigated, accounted for, and compensated. International organizations, especially the UN, should give this problem the utmost priority. The occupation is responsible for their misery. Silence, justifications, excuses are totally unacceptable. All the human rights, political, medical, law, journalists, teachers….organizations all over the world should not keep silent to these crimes.
Rahaliya Refugee Camps
Rahaliya is a village on the borders of Anbar. Mohannad told us that there are at least 150 families here. I realized that I am in a big problem. I can hardly cover 30 families
, and by covering I mean giving them a gift for Eid Al-Adha. We decided to visit 3 camps where there are many families. There were two schools and a clinic where such camps are, again promising ourselves and the others to try to come back. In the first school, Al-Waha Al-Khadra (the Green Oasis) which is a boys’ high school, 15 Falluja families live, each one(or more) in a class room, the teachers’, and the director’s. The director’s story is interesting. When the refugees came last summer, he decided to give them the school except his room where he kept the files, books and documents. In the last minute a woman came with her children, she had no place to stay in, he gave her the room. The school time table is still hanging on her stove, the books piled under the mattresses. The desks are piled in the unpaved yard, on which children clothes are hanged now to dry.
-“What about the students?!” was my question.
-” there are no schools in all the cities of the Anbar governorates this year, the students just had mid-year exam formally, the boys in the yard and the girls in one class room”
-“what about other schools?” I insisted
-” it is the same in the majority of Anbar schools”. Children gathered near the desks pretending to be very polite to get Ahmad’s toys. Their naughty eyes exposed every thing. Sami, Dr Intisar and Ahmad were very happy with them, asking for more and more pictures.
Beida’a, Iqbal, Amaal, Sajida, Haala, Montaha, Aziza, Um Sofian, Sundos… and others were young women and mothers running the camp. They were heroines, simply, doing an extraordinarily amazing job keeping life going on as smoothly as possible. Cleaning, cooking, making fires, washing, baking bread, and taking care of the children. But Sami was unhappy. He asked Sundos who was a teacher” why did not you open a class for these children?” she was embarrassed, “this is a good idea”, she replied” I will think about it”
When Sajida talked, dr.Intisar could not help her tears. Sajida is a very beautiful girl in her early 20s. She suffers from some kind of brain damage that made it difficult for her to speak normally. She lives in a room with her mother who sells petty things on the street side. Thier room was destroyed. Sajida made a great effort to tell us how her glass dishes, cups and other small belongings were smashed.
Medical Needs
I asked Ghazi Mnachid, an assistant doctor in Rahaliya clinic about the situation. “Very bad” was his reply, “we need medicines” and he gave me a long list of most needed medicines. The majority were children’s. Cold, fever, antibiotics, skin, intestinal worms…etc. The most dangerous thing is that there are no vaccines in the clinic. This village is in danger of a health catastrophe if this problem is not solved soon.
All the women agreed that the bathroom is most difficult thing. The toilets were more than 50 meters away from the nearest class room; mothers have to take children all this distance in the cold at night. With no electricity, no water, no fuel, it is almost a miracle that women can manage to take care of the children, and keep so clean and tidy rooms. “You should see the well we dug behind the school, you would not believe it” Iqbal Abdulla , 29, a mother of 5, said. Some times women go to a brook outside the village to wash in cleaner water.
Night in the Camp
“It is almost 5” Mohannad said, “we need to go back to Karbala’a now, it is becoming too dangerous now”
“I am staying here. I need to listen to these women, I need to see how they live here” I said. Dr. Intisar, Ahmad and Sami exchanged glances. Dr.Intisar pulled my arm and took me a side “these people can barely manage their food and supplies, you are embarrassing them”. Falluja people are well-known for their extreme hospitality; they would do any thing to make the guest comfortable. Actually there are many jokes on there almost illogical hospitality. We had some food, but we know that it is almost a crime even to show your food while you are in a Falluja house. I know that Dr.Intisar was right.
“I can just put my head on my arm and sleep, I do not need any thing, you go if you want” I insisted again. Sami was the first to approve and support.
“I am not leaving you alone here” Dr. Intisar said. Ahmad and the driver had nothing else to say.
We decided to go to the clinic first, then to visit the Refugee houses. We had plenty of time to talk.
“Dinner is going to be here” said Mohammad Abdulla, a taxi driver who is unemployed now.
“No, dinner is at my place” Ghazi objected, referring to the clinic camp.
“Listen, we are here to work, let us finish the job, and then see what we can do about dinner invitations” I said.
The Clinic
Many men gathered to talk to us in the Diwaniya (guest room for men). Beautiful mattresses and pillows were layed on the ground for us to sit on.
“Why do not you ask the women to join us?” I asked, although I know that women do not share such men gathering in Falluja. “May be you can talk to them later” replied Ggazi.
They began to tell their stories. The houses which were bombed, burnt, looted and occupied…
“What do mean by occupied” I asked the speaker.
“Our house is occupied now by the American troops, it is now a headquarter for one battalion”
“Which one?”
“I do not know. But the Iraqis are down stairs and the Americans are on the second floor. Actually they took the neighboring house too, and opened the wall between the two houses. It is not a house any more. It is surrounded by barbed wires, the aerials on the roof; we can not even go near”
“What did you do?”
“I went to them; I asked them to give me back my house, an Iraqi captain said this is impossible, I asked what am I going to do, he replied: go wherever you want to go. My mother does not want to give up. She goes there every day; sits in front of the house til the afternoon, just looking at her house.”
Another man sitting in the room laughed and said” prepare your self, you are going to be arrested tomorrow”
-“are there any foreigners fighting in Falluja?
-“even if there are, how do we know! They do not go around saying we are foreign fighters. The majority are Fallujans defending their houses. Many of them were killed guarding their homes. There are bodies till now in some places like Alqudoos mosque, many injured people were shot in the head, and few injured people were left. Falluja smells very bad”
Living in a Barn
The other man lives in a cow barn now. There is a store room in the barn that he sleeps in with his family, a wife and 6 children. The room was dim, wet and smelling bad. Again the main problem for the wife was the toilet for the children, especially at night. This man went to Falluja the day before, he went on a wrong road mistakenly, his car was shot but he was not injured. A tank approached and hit his car from the back. The soldiers told him to get down; they tied his hands, put a sac on his head and took him through a zigzag road. They investigated him for two hours, then let him go.
“Why did not you ask them to pay for repairing the car?” I asked….
“I wanted to run away as soon as possible, I was afraid that they are going to arrest me again”
Abid Awad Sheilam, a driver in his 50s, is a father of a family of 12. They live in an unfinished house structure whose owner let them to use, but Abid had to put a roof for one of the room. He did, using date palm trunk and leaves and a tent donated by Rahaliya mosque sheikh.
Iraq Smell
“Oh, this smell!” Sami said, taking a deep breath, while we were entering the roofless house. It was a typical Iraqi farm smell, a mixture of smoke, fresh bread being baked, fire, thick green plantations, and dust. It was not dark yet, there were few deep red lines still hanging in the sky, dog barking in the distance. Abid’s daughter was preparing the traditional Iraqi fire place, manqala. There were two empty water barrels.
“How do you get water?” I asked
“Water tank car comes some times and fill the barrels, now the driver says he has no gasoline, we have to pay him to come again”
Shiha, Abid’s 98 year old mother, was deaf and blind. She kept on kissing Ahmad, Dr. Intisar and Sami, and cursing Bush for preventing her of going back to Falluja. There was no door, just a sheet of cloth. Another sheet traditionally embroidered “In the Name of God, the most Gracious, and the most merciful”. The family told us how their house in Jolan was shot, how the furniture was destroyed. Strangely enough, every body we met told us how their glass and porcelain buffet were smashed. The American soldiers must have fun smashing these things.
Sami told the family how he spent 20 years in the US, how his friends were crying in the good by party, how they asked him to tell the Iraqi people that they have nothing to do with killing the Iraqis and occupying their country.
Sami asked Lina, 15, one of Abid’s daughters:” If I were an American soldier what would you want to tell me?”
“Get out of my country”
“and if I were a civilian American coming as a guest?”
“I would say you are welcome, you can stay”
“for how long?”
“As long as you need”
Abid said we thank the American people who reject the war. Isam, a neighbor in his 30s, a graduate of electricity institute, but studying to be a teacher now, said the resistance is legal, as far as there is occupation people resist. We do not want to be humiliated. We do not want them (the American) to be humiliated. But they did not suffer as we did.
Mohammad Kreidi, is 85, he lives with his 4 sons and there families in one house. He can barely feel what is going on around him, he was dying. Dawood Obeid is 73, he suffers from muscles atrophy, and he lives in another house with his 15 daughters and sons….
We had to go back to the school camp. The women have baked fresh bread, cooked dinner and were waiting for us.
Back to the school
It was very dark in the school, the oil lamps can hardly help in the big class rooms, neither the fading embers, or the kerosene heaters which were sending suffocating smoke. It was getting very cold; obviously it was going to rain. Dinner was a big meal, with meat, beans, rice, salad, potatoes, typical Falluja tea, black, sweet and hot, and even Eid cookies. The women helped us wash in warm water.
I was telling them how deeply impressed I am with the wonderful work they are doing in the camp. Sundos said that 25 years of war taught us a lot. Her father was the first man to enter Falluja ten days after the October bombing was over.” The decomposed bodies’ smell was the most hideous thing “he said. Many people stayed in Falluja because they did not imagine that it was going to be so notorious, and because they had no place to go to. Some are still under the rubbles till now. Many houses and shops were looted, even after the bombing stopped. Sundos and her mother tried to go back to Falluja; they found a 20 kilometer queue of cars.
The American soldiers were using obscene words, if some body objected they beat and arrest him. One soldier near the new bridge was repeating “Haush ,Baa’ …Haush, Baa'”(calling the people cows and sheep).
When we went to the toilet we realized what the women were talking about. It was already raining, we had to cross the unpaved yard to the toilet which was dark, blocked, and there was no water. The drain was open, sending very bad smell. Dr. Intisar was furious; she gave the men hard words for leaving the drain open, jeopardizing the children lives and every body’s health.
The night was noisy with foxes and wolves howl. We had to leave early in the morning. It was colder and the still raining heavily. We had other kind of refugee camps to visit and write about. Sami had to attend a training course in the Iraqi HRW office, as a facilitator. It is a course suggested by the Christian Peacemakers Team, an organization which has been working in Iraq for more than two years. This training course is about creating an Islamic Peacemakers Team.
I am supposed to write now about the Karbala’a refugee camps, the 200.000 thousands refugees on the outskirts of the city. But this story is already very long, the new one is different and my computer battery is running out in few minutes.
.
*Aladha Eid is connected to Mecca pilgrimage. God ordered Prophet Abraham in Mecca to slaughter his son, when he was about to do it, God sent him a ram to slaughter instead of his son. In this Eid Moslems slaughter sheep and feed the poor, and to celebrate the Mecca pilgrimage.

#536 – Dick Bernard: Melvin Giles, the Peace Pole and Peace Bubbles Guy. "May Peace Prevail on Earth"

After the recent Nobel Peace Prize Forum at Augsburg College in Minneapolis I posted a small album of 46 photographs of the Forum on Facebook.
I chose as the “cover photo” the grainiest of the lot, taken by someone with a cell phone of my friend, Melvin Giles, giving a small Peace Pole to former S. Africa President and 1993 Nobel Laureate F. W. deKlerk.

Melvin Giles gifts F. W. deKlerk with a small Peace Pole, Augsburg College, Minneapolis, March 2, 2012

Melvin is one of those legions of unsung heroes of contemporary life: people who make a difference almost anonymously.
For St. Paul’s Frogtown native Melvin Giles, the passion is a more peaceful community and world. And he walks the talk.
I don’t recall exactly when I first met him, but I’m guessing it was about six years ago, when this enthusiastic guy showed up at a meeting I was attending and started blowing bubbles, those you often see after weddings. I was the President of the organization then, and Melvin came as one of the reps, and he lit up the room.
I got to know him as the Peace Pole Guy, and if you’re interested in Peace Poles and related links he’d recommend this internet link. He’s an authorized representative in the midwest for this organization, the original Peace Pole Makers in the United States. He is also Regional Peace Representative of World Peace Prayer Society (WPPS). He says, “I consider them the god-parents of the Peace Pole and Peace Message: May Peace Prevail On Earth. WPPS works on a global level and on programs and projects that are youth focus, as well as inter-generational.”
As time has gone on Melvin and I have gotten to know each other a bit better, and my first impression has been reconfirmed over and over. In an unreal world, Melvin’s the real deal. What you see is what you get: a kind, gentle man.
He’s given small peace poles to previous Nobel Laureates at the Forum, and this year was no exception.
See the photo gallery about Melvin below. If you’re ever in the market for a Peace Pole, I’m sure Melvin would be glad to help out. You can reach him at PeaceBubblesATqDOTcom.
“May Peace Prevail on Earth.”
UPDATE March 17, 2012: from Deborah Moldow of World Peace Prayer Society: What a lovely and fitting tribute to a peacemaker of the first order!
Melvin does more than walk his talk: he lives it. From the first, he understood the meaning of the Peace Pole project in a very deep way – and proved it over and over among the diverse population of the Frogtown community.
My very favorite Melvin achievement is the Peace Pole outside the police station that welcomes the immigrant communities with a message of peace in their own languages. Brilliant.
I am proud to know Melvin and absolutely delighted to see him recognized by your loving words. Thanks so much for sharing them with me.
May Peace Prevail on Earth!
Infinite gratitude,
(click on photos to enlarge them)

at neighborhood Peace Garden, St. Paul, August 7, 2007

Peace site rededication Centennial Elementary Richfield MN May 13, 2008

Peace Bubbles dispensed by Melvin at Centennial Elementary May, 2008

With Nobel Institute Director Geir Lundestad at Peace Prize Festival, Augsburg College, March 2009

Melvin (hat at left) at Peace Pole Dedication at St. Paul’s Monastery, Maplewood MN, June, 2009

At Peace Prize Festival March 5, 2010

Presenting mini-Peace Pole to Muhammad Yunus at University of Minnesota March 5, 2010

With Anna Tu at 2011 Nobel Peace Prize Festival

#535 – John Borgen and Flo and Carter Hedeen on Cuba; with additional notes from Dick Bernard

Dick Bernard
This is easily by far the longest blog post I’ve done at this space. The number count says over 8300 words (normal length 600-700 words).
Cuba has always intrigued me, though the closest I’ve been is neighboring Haiti, which has both benefited and been cursed by its proximity to the island Communist Republic to its immediate west.
Fidel Castro came to power in 1959 (the inspiration for Victors 1959 Cafe at 38th and Grand in South Minneapolis (photo including John Borgen below).
Castro’s stay in power was to be brief, at least according to the U.S. Sometime before my Dad’s cousin Marvin, a prominent banker in Brainerd, died in 2006, he told me he’d made a $5 bet with a friend that Castro “wouldn’t last six months”. “I sure got that one wrong”, he allowed, cheerfully. Fifty-three years later the battle continues, to no ones benefit.
Even at the beginning, the boycott was apparently not totally absolute. The July 5, 1961, Viking News of Valley City State Teachers College (my last issue as editor) had this front page article, which explains itself (click to enlarge).
Viking News, Valley City ND State Teachers College, July 5, 1961 page one
John
My sister, Flo, was in the Peace Corps in the Dominican Republic 1966-68, and was back to the DR to help celebrate the 50th anniversary of the Peace Corps. She and Carter decided to add on a trip to Cuba enroute home. Here’s a vintage photo of Flo at the border of Haiti and Dominican Republic about 1967 or so.

Florence Bernard at Haiti-Dominican Republic Border ca 1967

I was in the Army in October, 1962, when there was a near miss with disaster involving Cuba: the Cuban Missile Crisis it was called. My base was near one of the prime targets. All I remember is President Kennedy’s address to the nation, watched on a small black and white barracks tv with several other GIs, getting up mighty early for a few days, and then it was over.
Life has gone since then, Cuba an enigma.
Then, within the last month, I had the good fortune of having a relative – my sister and her husband – and a long-time colleague and good friend go to visit Cuba within weeks of each other.
I asked both of them to report, individually, on their impressions, which follow below.
Enjoy.
John Borgen:
Here is your requested submission of my Impressions of Cuba from my one week trip to that enigmatic island made in January, 2012.
It is said that we see what we want to see or expect to see. I have been a supporter of a romanticized Cuban Revolution since the early 1970s. I have admired Cuba’s free and universal public education, from very young through university levels. The Cuban medical care, also universal and free, has inspired me, too. There were many other things I saw that I liked. The transformation from a US dominated dictatorship under Batista which pandered to the American mafia to a communist state which has survived an American boycott for 50 years is a victory for the underdog,the canine I seem to always support. Fidel Castro has survived 11 US presidents. Good for him and the Communist Party. The billboards don’t advertise cars or insurance companies or restaurants, rather, they extol the 53 year old revolution. Pictures of the obvious Cuban spiritual “leader”, Che Guevara adorn just about any available surface. It made me feel at home as I have had his picture on my office wall for about 20 years.
But was/is the revolution good for the Cuban people? One of the people on our People to People humanitarian tour referred to Cuba as a “failed state.” I disagreed, of course, saying, given all the difficulties Cuba has faced, not the least of which was a collapse of massive support from the USSR when it came apart at its seams over 20 years ago, and of course the U.S boycott . . . Actually I think it is remarkable how well Cuba has done. Naturally, our Cuban guide spoke positively about the revolution, food is readily available (but rationed), housing is free if not luxurious, crime rates are low, there is no illegal drug problem. Of course the secret police and long jail terms contribute to the later two being as they are. International travel, the world wide web, free expression of anti government politics , boats owned by individuals are among the dreams of many Cubans. I gathered that the Party is trying to navigate a transformation into the future similar to what other former Communist counties have been able to, but I suspect the free health care and education systems will be in place for the indefinite future.
But, I’ll have to say, the Cuban people I talked with and observed seemed to be happy and relaxed. We had the opportunity to visit the brother and sister and nieces of some American friends in their home in Havavna. Nice time! Cubans are reasonably well dressed, resourceful and look healthy. There is virtually no homelessness or the kind of abject poverty that can be seem in other third world countries, which Cuba no doubt was before the revolution. Check out the web site www.ifitweremyhome.com. Compare the statistics of Cuba to other countries.
Our trip, I was with my wife, Janice and about 22 others, was delightful. We stayed at the top hotel in Havana, the Nacional Hotel for five nights and a fairly nice resort in Trinidad (Cuba) a Spanish colonial city established in 1511. The food everywhere was great (Cuban food is relatively bland), we saw museums, a beautifully restored Old Havana, a cigar factory, Ernest Hemmingway’s house, schools, cathedrals, sports facilities, some old 50s US cars, heard great music everywhere, talked with teachers and medical professionals and much more. But this was not a sit on the beach resort vacation. Cuba says 2.7 million tourists, primarily from Canada and Europe were in Cuba last year.
I see gradually expanding tourism to be the future economic engine of any transformed Cuba after the Castro brothers . It has been a dream of mine to visit Cuba before Fidel was gone. I am anxious to return in upcoming years and see how our neighbors, so close but so far away are doing. my experience in Cuba left me with many more questions than answers. I wish the U S would end the boycott and treat this beautiful nation and its 11 million citizens at least as well as we have treated Viet Nam, China and so many other former “enemies.”
One other point in the spirit of full disclosure. While I have considered my self to be a socialist at heart, I am also a free spirit and realize I would have had and still have internal conflicts between my affinity for the Cuban experiment with communism, cheering for the underdog and the free will to explore any ideas and express my beliefs openly and directly. Having said this, I invite any readers of this visit Cuba, see for yourself. It may not be a workers paradise, but the people and the country are beautiful! So for now: Viva Revolucion!
From Flo Hedeen
Travel to Cuba with Lexington Institute
Carter and Florence Hedeen – February 5-20, 2012
CUBA
The plane from Santo Domingo, DR [Dominican Republic] to Cuba was full. We checked our carry-on bags because they were over 5 K. It was nice to not be bothered with luggage. Just hope it shows up with us at the airport! Again, Carter slept and our seatmate, RPCV [retired Peace Corps Volunteer?] Anne Kopley and I talked. She served in the DR 2000-02 and is new on the Friends of the Dominican Republic board. She’s an attorney for Veterans Services in Washington DC.
Arrival was smooth and on-time in Havana. We disembarked by stairs and were transported to the terminal by bus. Customs was cold and labored. I went after Carter, but for whatever reason he was rejected the first time through. I waited on the other side of the door. When he finally came through he explained that he’d been delayed because they didn’t recognize the Park View Hotel, where we’d stay for most of our visit, as our legitimate destination. Then he had to wait as someone in a wheelchair was being served. Customs was just electronic, no removal of anything required!
At the airport lobby we were met by our Lexington Institute Leader, Phillip Peters and his son Tommy. We boarded our huge, luxury tour bus, Transtur, at 4:00 and met our guide, Abel, and driver, Idelio, both employees of the Cuban government Office of Tourism. It was then we learned that our first night in Cuba would be at the Hotel del Bosque (Forest), as the Park View Hotel was over-booked, apparently a too frequent occurrence. Maybe that’s why Carter had been rejected at immigration!
As the bus traveled into Havana our guide talked about Cuba and what we were passing. A first impression was that things are neat, but worn. Transportation took every conceivable form from our huge bus, to horse and wagon, to foot. We were checked into the Hotel del Bosque, a clean but worn place. A guava juice cocktail was given to each of us as we waited in line to register. Our room functioned well for us and included a wall safe. We showered and dressed for our first evening on the town in Havana.
First was a walk around Old Havana, getting $ changed to CUCs [Cuban currency] (1:1) and taking in some music, including classical, in a town square. It was chilly for Havana and for me! Dinner was “open-air” at El Aljibe and featured their specialty, a chicken dish that our leader thought was the best in Cuba. It was good, accompanied by hors d’oeuvres, beverages, salad, and rice and beans, served family style. Frozen yogurt and café topped off the meal. Good conversation kept us animated, but getting back to the hotel, albeit to share a three-quarter bed, was the best! We had to make up for our last night in the DR at the Rancho Don Lulu’.
2/13/12 – Monday We packed to leave and had a big buffet breakfast in the lower level of the hotel. I never realized how many ways eggs can be served! There are still foods that are unfamiliar and very tasty. So far nothing has made either of us sick. Unfortunately, Carter has come down with a cold and sore throat, but he keeps trucking. Our hand-laundered clothes dried easily over-night.
The bus picked us up at 9:15 and we learned of another change of plans – the health care visit fell through, so we went to the Hemingway Museum in a near-by town. Our guide and Phil provided dialog along the way on political, social, and economic issues impacting Cubans in a socialist society. The bye [story?] was that every society has its problems, including the USA. Amen.
Neither Carter nor I was that familiar with Hemingway’s works. His farm was on acreage just south of Havana and has been preserved as an historic site just as he left it. He obviously had money and status, but was an alcoholic, married four times, and ended his life at age 62. He expected the best of everything, including prize wild life from safaris to Africa, but likely could not satisfy himself. The Cubans admire him because he attracted many visitors and money to their piece of heaven in the Caribbean.
Lunch was at La Moraleja, a new, private restaurant. The Cuban government is now encouraging private enterprise, with around 1300 new licenses taken out since Raul Castro took over as President. In addition to the cost of the license, owners pay a percentage of their proceeds to the government, leaving them with cash in hand to use as they wish – new Cuban entrepreneurs. The main course was fabulous grilled fish and the usual abundant accompaniments. Our speakers were priests who edited a newspaper, Especial Laical, funded by churches over-seas and the Catholic Church archdiocese , discussing many topics of daily interest, not exclusively religious. Following are my notes.
They try to represent the full spectrum of opinions in the country: plurality of local and over-seas Cubans “debating” the issues. Well founded opinions, expressed with the spirit of seeking dialog, fraternity, solidarity and respect are published. They believe that this type of communication is required for a better future for Cuba. Initially there was concern on the part of the government that the project might injure the country’s stability. Attitudes expressed however, have abated concerns. It is a well-accepted magazine even though some officials continue to have concerns. It is carefully edited to avoid polarization, neutralizing the lack of confidence among sectors in Cuban society that Cubans who think differently can’t work together for a common cause, the same concern we’re experiencing in the political arena now in the USA.
Topics published include emigration, reconciliation among Cubans, institutionalization of Democracy, and relations with the world and the USA. One issue dealt with various concerns, but no argument was noted. Still the editors seek greater balance, reinforced civic participation, increased capacity of citizens to regulate government power and to strengthen the capacity of local governments and the issue of habeas corpus.
Distribution of the free 4500 copy printing is multiplied by the estimate that each copy is shared with about 10 others. Some communities choose to “sell” the free publication.
Questions raised included on the Taino population of Cuba. They believed that no indigenous people live in Cuba now though a small number may have inhabited the Bargacoa region. Historians lament the way in which they were eliminated. Study of the Cuban genome reveals that the vast majority are a mix of African and Spanish, with a minimal amount of Taino.
In 2011 the Cuban Council of Churches was established. Cuba has a different relationship with Protestant and the Catholic Church because the Catholic Church had imposed severe restrictions and interpretations that held the government to be illegitimate. There is a strong effort to open a more functional path to conversation in order to arrive at consensus.
We continued the bus tour of Havana until check-in time at the Park View Hotel near the Prada in Old Havana. We had to produce our passports, but check-in for Carter and me was very quick. In the process we received a Cuban beverage similar to a frozen daiquiri, but with rum. It was refreshing! We took the elevator six floors to our room. The maid was still cleaning and said it would be ready in about 20 minutes. We decided to walk down the six flights on the narrow, marble clad steps, with barely enough room for two people to pass. After we settled in – with another trip down and back on the steps for Carter to get the key to the room safe, we decided to walk around the area until bus time at 7:45 pm.
There’s not a lot of artificial light at night so it was a bit scary walking further away from the hotel. At the Malecon (highway skirting the harbor) we headed in the direction of the Prada, a busy friendly feeling walking area between streets. Several people offered to help us find a place to eat, but we said “No, gracias.” and headed back to the hotel. Near-by the boat that Fidel Castro used to start the revolution was on display, but was only open for viewing until 4:00 pm daily. Other government buildings surrounded our “government” hotel, as well. Dinner was at the Café del Oriente, a consolation prize for us for the hotel mix-up. It was exceptional in ambiance and food. A trio of piano, bass, and drums played wonderful dinner music. The second meal of fish for the day was more than I could finish, though delicious. Bedtime was 11:30 pm.
2/14/12 – Tuesday Valentine’s Day is celebrated in a big way, here, too!
Everything in our room seems to work well, but it is hard to control the room temperature. In the middle of the night Carter finally just turned off the fan.
We dressed for a day of lectures and were treated to another generous breakfast buffet on the 7th floor looking out to the Havana Harbor. The bus welcomed us at 8:45 am and we went to meet with the editor of a women’s magazine. She wasn’t available when we arrived so an alternate plan was offered to walk the streets in this historic area still awaiting renovation. Just as we were leaving we were advised that the Editor would be with us in 20 minutes. Phil decided that it would be unproductive to wait any longer.
We took lots of pictures of the “collectible” American-made cars, 1950’s and earlier vintage, and other activity along the street, and the general dilapidated appearance of the buildings. Man-made structures don’t take care of themselves and in the 40 years between the revolution and 1996, nothing was done. Now efforts to restore them are being funded by a 90% cut of tourist generated revenues.
Trying to regroup for lunch was challenging as some of the group got separated from us. They hadn’t heard the most current instructions for a meeting place. Finally we learned that they’d returned to the hotel when we didn’t show up for them at the park where they were waiting. After we detoured back to the hotel to get them, we went for lunch at an Italian Restaurant, a government run enterprise to benefit the rehabilitation efforts. As we sat down, a refreshing rum drink was put before us, then a plate of fresh fruit with Italian Prosciutto and fresh Italian bread. As has become the usual procedure, each of us could order two beverages with lunch. Carter and I ordered water for our second beverage as we had failed to bring any with us for the day. Spaghetti was the entre’ and a frozen cake layered with ice cream and café completed our meal.
Sorolla Castro (no relation to Fidel!) was our speaker. Here are my notes.
A Cuban educated sociologist and historian, Professor Castro has traveled, studied and spoken widely in the US about Cuban relations with the USA since the 1932 Plat Amendment was signed. It is the source of the continuing suspicion of American imperialist intentions that began before 1898. Prior to that Cuba had enjoyed American support. Since 1991, the USA has recognized that Cuba was not a security threat. The Bush administration focused more importance on domestic policy and no clear Cuban policy emerged. The Cuban American Community, most in Florida, has largely controlled the debate. Cubans refer to the Special Period following the collapse of the Soviet Union and Communist support of Cuba. In 1992 the USA adopted the Cuban Democracy Act, establishing the historic embargo, which challenged the essence of Cuban independence and punished Cuba for the lack of a democratic government. Regime change became the official policy and created five areas in which the black listing of Cuba could be justified, including: biological and international terrorism; human rights violations; sex trafficking; and forced labor. Colin Powell called these the dumbest plans ever created! In 2006 the transition to Raul Castro began, but the Cuban policy continued. In 2008 Raul was elected President. Cuba is ready and able to sit down and talk. With the Obama Administration expectations were high, but existing policy has been maintained. In 2011, however, there was significant easing of travel for Cuban Americans to and from Cuba to see family. Small actions in proportion to fundamental changes needed are what are being sought by Cuba.
A new guide, Ludwig, joined our group at the restaurant to lead us on a walking tour of historic Havana. Under the auspices of the Cuban government’s Historian, 18 hotels have been restored and are owned and operated by the government. The 1728 Dominican Bank building has been demolished and restored based on pictorial record. The Hotel Ambos Mundos, famous as a Hemingway hang-out where he was first refused service based on his disheveled appearance, keeps his room #511, as a memorial to him.
An interesting stop was the Mother’s Hospital, a place where pregnant women without sufficient resources can stay as long as they need to for their health and that of their baby, through delivery. Birth control and abortion are readily available. Children can be placed for adoption, but great care is taken in placing them. Meanwhile they live in state-run orphanages. Children are treasured.
At the original town square hundreds of tables were set up and decorated for the Valentine’s dinner. There was no shade in the square, but hundreds of people gathered to celebrate the day. Down a near-by street, shaded by tall buildings, Ludwig pointed out the remains of the original aqueduct system built in the 1500’s. Now the water source, a river, is too polluted to use. With that we walked across the Parque de San Francisco, where we’d eaten the night before at the Café del Oriente, to meet our bus and return to the hotel. Carter and I walked to the corner tienda to buy a liter of water – $2 CUCs, much more than we’d heard others paying. I’m no barterer in any language!
It was good to relax in the hotel. Carter slept and I wrote memoirs. We decided to walk with Mary and Lou Ferrand and Cappy and Ron Morgan for an evening at the Parque Catedral to have dinner and hear the band that had played our first night in Cuba. We got disoriented and ended up at the wrong park, but were redirected with the help of Ron’s map of Havana. The band was setting up when we arrived and two tables were made into one for the six of us. Dinner ordering was a bit chaotic. Lou wanted to order wine by the bottle and asked the server the price – $12 CUCs. The beverage steward came later to tell Lou that wine was only served by the glass. Lou objected and the steward left in a huff. Customer service is secondary to being right, I guess. Dinner was good and the entertainment was great, but there was a pall over our table. Mary, Cappy, Dan, Carter and I had an amicable conversation on politics and the League of Women Voters. Lou was tired and nodding off.
We took a taxi home with Ferrands and again Lou struck a hard bargain with the driver for the fare. Cappy and Dan took a horse-drawn carriage. It was good to call it a day. Carter’s sore throat and cold were getting him down, too! A heart fashioned from our blanket welcomed us back to our room! Hospitality, plus …
2/15/12 – Wednesday Nearly everything went as planned – a remarkable occurrence for this trip! We traveled about three hours to the Vinales province, seeing completely different terrain, including round capped mountains and lakes. This area is famous for growing tobacco used in making Cuban cigars. Tobacco growers are independent and farms pass from generation to generation. The cultivation of tobacco is a very specialized skill, not to be taken for granted even under the socialist government.
We had a quick tour of a cigar factory during our trip. The cigar makers have a daily quota and a very high standard to meet for their product. Most are women because they have a lighter touch, according to our guide. Many workers indicated that they’d accept a tip, but they worked behind a glass wall. Later I learned that they’d leave their work to receive CUCs, the tourist currency that allows them to purchase many things unavailable with pesos. I left one CUC with the toilet attendant – worth 23 pesos – but she provided the toilet tissue and brought the pail of water to flush the toilet.
At a rest stop there were lots of tourist items for sale. We only bought post cards, .65 CUC stamps for mailing to the USA, .55 CUC for France, and a pair of stick clappers. We expect to get back to the Art Market in Havana to do more shopping. Phil had arranged for us to visit a small tobacco farmer that he’d met on previous trips. The farm was at the foot of a limestone hill, the ground a brilliant rust color – like dried tobacco leaves! With irrigation the soil produced tobacco prolifically. The farmer was the third generation on these seven hectares, the amount of land that people were allowed to own after the Revolution. Tobacco and corn are rotated with a year of fallow to build up the soil for the tobacco crop. Ninety percent of his crop must be sold to the government. The remaining 10% can be used as he sees fit. He rolled a cigar, expertly, and made them available for sale – 12 for $20 CUCs. It’s a bargain, but we’re not permitted to bring them into the USA. Of course, they also grow tobacco and sell cigars in the DR …
The rich soil also supported vegetables and flowers in abundance. Though everything seems to have stopped in time, it all seems so peaceful and unassuming. People are doing what they must do to live. Lunch was another five-course meal at Rancho San Vincente, this time featuring pork. The band played music that really reminded us of Cuba. We bought a CD. At the local craft vendor’s stand I bought a couple of wooden pieces featuring a couple dancing salsa – the female figure moveable for effect!
The trip back to Havana included a stop for a walk-about in Vinales where nearly every other house had a room for rent for the tourists visiting the area. Carter and I walked in a nearby neighborhood and took pictures of beautiful flowers. The multi-colored houses were generally clean and well-kept. A number were under renovation. The rest of the ride home was very quiet. Carter was suffering from the effects of the cold and sore throat, now three days in the making. When we got back to the hotel he fell immediately to sleep. I wrote post cards and woke him up about 7:30. We prepared to go out for dinner in the neighborhood and ended up at the buffet at the Hotel Seville. Another couple joined us. A large group of bicyclists from Norway had also just arrived filling up the otherwise empty dining room.
Back at the hotel I gave Carter a facial massage to try to relieve his nasal congestion. He was most grateful and had a better night of sleep. Of course, the kissing swans that welcomed us back to our room, fashioned out of towels by our maid, might have helped, too!
2/16/12 – Thursday Finally, the visit to the medical facility actually happened. Phil had gotten a call late in the evening with confirmation from our guide, Abel. After breakfast, eighteen of us boarded our bus and rode about 20 minutes to a near-by suburb of Havana. The area is an attraction for Cubans who want to get away and enjoy the beach. In the city there is no quiet beach front. Again, we were reminded by Abel how ordinary, hard-working Cubans have no possibility of staying in the most humble of resorts because they simply lack the resources in either pesos or CUCs. It’s a very special occasion to spend what resources they have on other than necessities. My notes follow.
Four staff greeted us at the Policlinico – Guanabo, secondary level of care serving eastern Havana’s 33 family doctors and their patients – 1000-1500/doctor. The entire visit was driven by questions from us and most were easily and unequivocally answered. Diabetes is a specialty. Every patient sees the doctor three times a year to make sure they’re following the prescribed regimen of treatment. The Clinic provides 24-hour emergency care and longer term care. Non-compliant patients must see another doctor, including psychologists and counselors. Vaccination of children for polio, TB, Hepatitis, DTHM, and German measles is mandatory, like in the USA. Parents who are reluctant to have their children vaccinated are worked with to convince them of the need, but it’s seldom a concern. The population tends to believe the government in the area of public health. Autism does exist, but isn’t a high incidence disease. The national policy is that new medical doctors with the highest level of achievement go to serve in rural areas for two years of social service. There they can earn their specialty in family medicine. Hospitals are located every 23 km throughout the country. Policlinics provide access to excellent intensive care, radiology, optometry, ultrasound, etc.
The Family Doctor is in charge of guiding the patient through the health care system. Each patient is assigned a level of care: 1) healthy, 2) at risk, 3) sick, and 4) incapacitated. Nurses Training is very good taking two or four years or more to become a specialist. Doctors and nurses make home visits, note dangerous home conditions, and counsel on what must be done to correct them. If they are an in-home patient they are visited daily. Integrated systems of emergency medicine, ambulance service, and hospital serve the medical community and their patients. You can go wherever you want to get medical care, but the assigned family doctor gets feedback. The staff only hesitated when asked about the greatest challenge and answered that the aging of the Cuban population creates the greatest challenge. It is difficult to get some medicines and equipment. The University is in charge of equipment and training of medical professionals. InfoMed tries to maintain a current bibliography of medical information. A clinical trial is going on with a lung cancer vaccine. There are patients who receive stem cell treatment. The Health Ministry determines where these technologies will be provided.
Television is used to educate the public on pharmacology – “the precise dose” – but there is a concern with people self-medicating and sharing medicines, that is now being addressed. Sexual Counseling occurs in clinics, schools, groups of HIV patients, and other group settings. Condoms are freely distributed and public information is readily available. The numbers of students accepted into medical school is set by the government, by province. Doctors going to serve abroad are handled by the Public Health Ministry. Every doctor is asked if they are available and the numbers sent depends on how many are needed by another country. All medical graduates are generalists. After serving their mandatory two year assignment they receive an integrated family medicine degree. According to the need for specialists, doctors can apply for training in their area of interest. Even psychiatrists are first generalists. They consult at policlinicos. In 12th grade if you want to go into medicine, you take an aptitude test. It is important for people to understand that the practice of medicine is that of serving not to be served and that the student is inquisitive. Applicants are peer reviewed. For nursing, a committee reviews the student’s performance and recommends additional coursework. It is a profession of great sacrifice, entered mostly by women. Children of working parents are provided day care in government institutions. There is a shortage of nurses. Cuba doesn’t have nurse practitioners or physicians assistants.
We returned to the hotel to pick up the rest of the group and our luggage. We’ll be in a hotel in Sancti Spiritus tonight. Lunch was at the Cathedral Square restaurant, upper level. A great band played while we enjoyed our choice of fish, pork or chicken. Carter and I chose fish and received generous portions of sword fish, a first for both of us. After lunch we boarded the bus for the long ride ahead, with our final destination of Trinidad, tomorrow. Miles and miles of open country, much of it cropland, went by. Abel commented that even though Cuba has the capacity to provide for its own food needs, production falls far short of the need, even for staples like beans, rice, sugar, etc. Cooking oil is a luxury.
The Hotel Los Laureles where we were booked for the night, is on the outskirts of the city. Some took a taxi into the city of Sancti Spiritus for a look around. We chose to stay put for the evening and had yet another interesting buffet meal in the restaurant. It was hard to imagine that people could put away this much food, day after day – especially with the knowledge that ordinary folks did with so much less. The balance of our evening went to writing post cards and memoirs. One cockroach met its demise under my shoe before we went to bed and another was found belly up in the bathroom, the first of the trip. I gave Carter another facial massage concentrating on his nasal passages. He’s doing much better.
2/17/12 – Friday It was barely daylight when I went out to walk the hotel compound. Carter had nearly no water in the sink for shaving. Meanwhile I saw a lot of water flowing from broken pipes and leaky outdoor faucets on my walk. I walked toward the sound of prop airplanes apparently flying out of a near-by airport. The walkway led to one area of cement block buildings similar to those in the hotel compound, but in severe disrepair. One set looked like it might be occupied. When I left the area by road I passed a sign saying “Employees Only”. It’s amazing how even in disrepair the area had an essence of order, something that seems common in Cuba.
The sun was up and I explored a performance area. The sign there indicated that no American logos, displays, or clothing could be worn. I can understand Cuban suspicion of us! I walked back to the cottage and found Carter wondering if I’d remember I’d locked him in leaving him without a key. One had to use the same key on either side of the door for it to function – like Cousin Mary Kay’s, but only one lock! Breakfast was a pretty familiar affair by now – except we had fresh made ham and cheese omelets. The bus was ready and waiting for us at the appointed time to go into Trinidad.
Mountains came into view along the way. Abel shared the history of sugar cane production, the major crop in this area. In Colonial times Spanish barons grew cane for sugar export around the world. They used legions of African slaves for the labor intensive process. It’s hard to understand how Cuba can’t now grow cane enough to meet the needs of its own people.
In Trinidad the first stop was at a pottery factory. The family had had the business for three generations and the man at the wheel demonstrated his prowess with a hunk of clay producing a tea pot with a rope handle and lid, and several other items from the same clay. We bought a couple of souvenirs, including woven wrist bands with CUBA in pottery pieces. As we left there were many needlework vendors gathered who were anxious to have the first crack at rich tourists, which, indeed we were. Buses can’t negotiate the narrow streets of the center city so we walked to the restaurant where we were to have lunch later. We again were given the choice of hanging with the group or exploring the city on our own until then. We chose the tour of the museum of a sugar baron’s restored mansion just off of the city square. It was ornate with gilded décor and heavy, imported furniture and goods. Only a very few pieces were original in the 1700’s building. Remarkable was the indoor toilet – that dumped human waste three stories below, to keep the smell away!
As we walked through the market places, a big feature of Trinidad, most items were similar or identical from stall to stall, but clearly handmade. They had character and some ingenuity, i.e. cameras, cars, and other items made from aluminum beverage cans. We did some bartering, but really found little of interest. Instead Carter took a picture of a little boy with a mutt and her puppy. The boy tried to get the pup to nurse, but neither mom nor babe was up to it. The boy was jubilant with the CUC Carter gave him! Later other members of the group gave water by the capfuls to the pup and scraps of meat to the dog. I thought about the children watching, who likely also had empty bellies. Poverty is rampant and nasty in this socialist country. So, too, in a democracy like ours. Dare I say, there’s always hope for better times in the USA?
Lunch was once again an endless series of buffets. This time I topped my meal off with a small scoop of ice cream – delicious! We sat with Herb and Pat. RPCVs share so many common stories! Herb had started a fishing coop as a PCV in the DR and worked on building another coop in retirement in AZ. We had an hour to shop in the market after lunch. The heat was unrelenting, yet the vendors bore the brunt of it, packed together along both sides of the street. We walked into some shops, again seeing about the same things. The paintings were especially bright and colorful, just like the city of Trinidad.
We took a route back to Havana along the Caribbean, again passing much land in agricultural use or taken over by an invasive thorny bush. When we were told about the Bay of Pigs fiasco we were in the vicinity. I asked if we could wade in the water there, but instead we started a more northerly route, away from the sea. Later I requested that we make a real effort to get back to the hotel in time to go to the ballet. That was honored with much encouragement even by those with no special interest in attending!
We actually had time to rest a bit before walking to the theater about four blocks away off the Prada. Fifteen of us got front of the hall tickets for $20 CUCs ($2 pesos for Cubans!), thanks to Tommy’s help, and we were surprised and delighted by the Spanish interpretation of the Ghost based on the Phantom of the Opera and performed by the Havana Ballet Company in flamenco! There are two subsequent performances to finish the whole production, but this was the only one we could attend. Like most other things here the theater was old, ornate and very worn, but still displayed a degree of dignity. After the dance performance several of us went to the restaurant atop the Hotel Seville, of American gangster fame in the 30’s and 40’s. Cuba certainly has little reason to be impressed with American culture!
We were greeted by a trio of tenors singing well known arias, etc. Carter got a CD for our future enjoyment. We ordered only hors d’oeuvres salads and shared in a bottle of wine. No hassle this time! We really have little time or activity to use up the calories we consume every day! It was past midnight when we got back to our room. I gave Carter another facial massage, hoping he’d get a good night’s sleep. At 1:30 he woke me up to put on mosquito dope, fearing otherwise coming home with maleria. A mosquito was on attack and Carter hadn’t yet fallen asleep. Now I had to work to fall asleep again!
2/18/12 – Saturday We woke early in spite of the interrupted sleep over-night – our last full day in Cuba. After another hotel buffet breakfast we boarded the bus and before leaving for a tour to the central Market we offered our thanks and a tip to our guide and the bus driver. Filling the Market’s arena-sized space were beautifully displayed and abundant fresh foods and staples. I bought bananas, 15 for $1 CUC, something we’ve hardly been served since we came to Cuba. The meat counter was another jolt to the digestive system. Nothing is refrigerated and there’s no visible effort at sanitation. No wonder everything is generally cooked so thoroughly or no meat at all is eaten. The live chicken area was inhumane, at best. The birds were in crowded cages and handled very roughly. Six goats lay alive in a huddle, their feet tightly tied to keep them down. Fresh flowers in beautiful arrangements were a bright spot on our tour of the Market of the people.
From there we went to the historic Havana Fort to experience the annual book fair where people can buy any book available. It was a moving mass of humanity that we by-passed quickly under Abel’s leadership to get to the actual vendors from around the world. We stopped to talk with a vendor from Great Britain. The seller was a young man from NYC. Most of the books appeared to be pro-socialist. We couldn’t get the one title that had been recommended to us, “Cuba: the Search for Freedom.”
It was hot, stuffy and crowded in the expansive fair-like setting. We walked to the wall and Carter took pictures, before we left a bit early for the bus. A number of other people were already there. No one had bought anything except refreshments. We were off to the hotel to pick up more of the group before going to lunch at a private French themed restaurant. The new entrepreneurs had purchased the entire fourth floor of an apartment building. Each Cuban is permitted to purchase one piece of property. This one came equipped with a whirlpool tub in the bathroom, and toilet paper! Seafood was the fare. The food was tasty, but simple and started with tuna salad, fish fritters, and cold tomato soup. Two scoops of ice cream capped off the meal. Jan Jorgenson joined us at our table. She talked enthusiastically about her birding experience at the Bay of Pigs with two other women from our group. Most impressive to them was being able to talk with their hosts about the lives of Cubans. The most simple things in life (including toilet paper!) are inaccessible on the pay received for government work, about $40 pesos ($1.75 CUCs)/ month. CUCs earned from private enterprise, including renting out rooms, is essential.
As we walked to a children’s theater, La Colmenita, Carter paid a man with a parrot $2 CUCs so he could take a picture of me with the parrot on my shoulder! The 40-50 children who greeted us in their after school program in acting performed a fairy tale about courting the little “lady bug” by various animals. The mouse won the match-making and the children came into the audience to get us into the wedding dance. It was delightful to watch their enthusiasm and see our group respond positively. Not even Carter could resist their invitation to dance! The theater is for “play” acting only and helps to develop the children’s character: gratitude, camaraderie, kindness, and cheerfulness. What we saw was pretty convincing except when “Lady Bug” had the mike taken away from her by an older performer. She cried while she was out dancing with us. Why we don’t know, but her smile was back for the closing number on stage! The children from 33 groups of 30-60 children, ages 5-15, from all over Cuba, have performed around the world, including in the USA, their expenses paid by their hosts. They asked nothing of us but I left 20 CUCs, a pittance for us, but so much for them.
We hurried the bus trip back to the hotel because we had just one hour to visit the Museum of the Revolution before it closed at 4:45 pm. Six of us exited the bus a block before the hotel to get to the museum entrance quickly. The staff could only be considered cold and unfriendly. Most of the visitors appeared to be Cubans. We had been advised to visit the 2nd floor, first, but the docent wouldn’t permit us to go anywhere but to the 3rd floor.
Definitely history is written by the recorder of it and we saw the revolution through the eyes of the revolutionaries. By the second floor, the USA was a definite enemy of the Revolution. Defeating USA efforts to assassinate Castro and support insurrection in proverbial David and Goliath battle made me feel sad as an American Christian. Before leaving the museum, I bought some nice items from the only vendor, picking out six pieces for a total of 15 CUCs. We still had so many more CUCs to spend or exchange before we left Cuba in the morning.
Back at the hotel we showered and began preparations for our trip home. We left a tip and some clothes, albeit unwashed, with the hope that it will serve someone else well. That also left room in my suitcase for most of the souvenirs. We went to the Hotel Seville to exchange the remaining CUCs and learned that we’d have to wait until we were at the airport.
Dressed in our finest clothes for the farewell dinner at La Toree, a restaurant over-looking Havana from the 33rd floor, was the last item on our trip agenda. I really couldn’t look down! The Ron Cuba was OK, but lacked a lime. The best we’ve had was as we arrived at our hotel outside of Sancti Spiritus. We walked to the 32nd floor for dinner in a room with no ambiance. The food was well presented featuring a huge piece of rare beef tenderloin, not a joy to eat after the meat market experience. A trio of women offered about a half hour of musical entertainment. Words of gratitude and a tip were given to Phil and Tommy for their leadership. We got back to the hotel about 11:15 pm, exhausted after yet another very full day being tourists, and did a bit more packing before trying to get some sleep, difficult knowing that we’d have to be up again at 4:45 am and depend on Carter’s watch alarm to alert us on time.
2/19/12 – Sunday We got up for the day at 4:30 am, had a wake-up call from the hotel at 5:00 am, were solicited by the doorman for our bags shortly after and were down to the lobby for a quick breakfast, complements of Abel, before loading on the bus at 6:00 am for the airport. I gave some souvenir Minnetonka moccasin key-chains to Randy, Lou, and Jan, explaining that while I’d bought them at home they were actually made in the DR! The sun was just breaking dawn as we took our final bus trip in Cuba. We said our last good byes to Abel, our guide, and our driver, Idelio. They seemed genuinely grateful to us for our generous hearts, as we were genuinely grateful for their services.
Getting tickets, paying the airport tax, changing the CUCs (and losing another $10), and getting through immigration was routine. We have no official documentation that we’ve been to Cuba – unbelievable! We’d received 4 CUCs and 25 cents change. Three CUCs went to the bathroom attendants for their services and toilet paper. I tried spending the last 1.25 CUC on ice cream, but they had no spoons, so couldn’t sell me the cup of the frozen treat. Instead the remaining CUCs went to one of our group for her daughter’s upcoming trip to Cuba. We certainly could have done more!
I shared our family album with Jan and on-lookers. I had no recall of RPCVs having been told of TJ’s death. I had even less recall of other stories that were shared from our PC training days. I don’t remember fearing being deselected as nearly half of our group was, either in training or in service. I have a vague recollection, now, of staying with Mom and Dad in St. Brieux, Sas. a few days longer than expected, but thought it was because of the airline strike that took me half-way around the world to visit them, not because our PC service to the DR was being reconsidered due to the political strife there. It’s all water under the dam – and the adventure continues!
Our flight from Cuba went without a hitch. Finding our way through immigration in Santo Domingo was most challenging. We got separated from Jan and Anne at our gate so we had our last Dominican meal of the trip by ourselves. Later they joined us again and bought lighter fare from another vendor to our table. Irma and Pete were having some issues with making their connecting flight in Miami, but we didn’t catch up with them there to know the outcome. In fact, we were pretty much on our own, never really getting to say good-bye to the people with whom we had spent such significant time! We’ll never forget them or our shared experiences.
Immigration when we got to Miami was of no consequence, in spite of declaring that we’d been in Cuba and had been in agricultural areas there and also in the DR. Phil had told us that it would be easy! We had plenty of time to walk the miles of corridors to find our next gate. Pizza Hut pizza and a final Presidente beer from the DR will hold us until we get back to Minneapolis around 10:30 tonight. We were successful in changing our seats to side-by-side across the aisle. All is good!
In Minneapolis we used an actual pay phone to call Dick to be picked up. We were exhausted and very happy to have a place to spend the night before heading back home in the morning.
2/20/12 – Monday President’s Day Dick got up before us to go out for coffee, but not much later we were also up and ready to go out for breakfast with them before the long drive home. It was good to debrief with someone and share with them the small regalos we’d gotten with them in mind – a Taino picture, the bracelets from CUBA – our only contraband – and a Cuban newspaper from the airport. Dick was anxious to share things with another friend who had recently visited Cuba [see John Borgen, above]. Wonder how our stories will compare?
It was wonderful to pull into our driveway in Park Rapids at 3:00 in the afternoon and find everything pretty much as we’d left it, thanks to our neighbors’ vigilance! Snow had melted and it was 34 degrees.

#530 – Dick Bernard: The Nobel Peace Prize as a controversial issue

Full disclosure: When Barack Obama was awarded the 2009 Nobel Peace Prize I was pleased and not at all surprised. From the moment he took office, the tone of U.S. relations with the rest of the world began to change, and changed rapidly. I was a new blogger when he spoke in Egypt in June, 2009, and as blogs are something of a permanent record, here is what I said at the time he spoke in Egypt. Here, is my opinion when it was announced President Obama had received the Nobel Peace Prize in November, 2009.
I believe most of us who supported Mr. Obama’s election share my pleasure at his selection. But not all were happy, and they protest aggressively.
The issue was formally addressed at the 2012 Nobel Peace Prize Forum at Augsburg College.
*
On February 14, Valentine’s Day, I was one of those invited to a preview of the upcoming Nobel Peace Prize Forum. We were all given a 12-page single spaced copy of the agenda and workshops for the Forum. It was an extraordinary schedule, chock full of descriptors of the plenaries and workshops (there were 90 in all; I attended 16, the maximum possible).
At the time, I didn’t notice the session scheduled for 12:30 – 1:45 p.m. on the final day. “Controversial Nobel Peace Prizes: Successes or Failures?” with Dr. Geir Lundestad, for 22 years Director of the Nobel Institute in Oslo, the agency charged with the responsibility of selecting the Nobel Peace Prize Laureate each year.
Had I noticed the agenda item, it wouldn’t have surprised. In the history of the Nobel Peace Prize, there have been numerous controversial awards. In fact, in March, 2011, Dr. Lundestad, at Augsburg, had given a 5-minute talk to several hundred students and adults about the controversy swirling around the 2009 Award to President Barack Obama, then in his first year in office. Dr. Lundestad’s explanation, then, is here.
I viewed that talk in person.
On February 25, a week before this years Forum, I started receiving copies of a “petition” requesting an investigation of supposed “Betrayal of the Nobel Peace Prize”.
I received from three people an identical document, all coming from people who would probably self-identify as progressive left, all criticizing the Obama selection. I knew there was criticism but was surprised it came up almost on the eve of the Forum. I was wondering whether/if some protest would develop (to my knowledge, none did.)
As I typically do with my own mailing list, I sent the item on, even though I disagreed with its premise. People have rights to their own opinions.
But the agenda item, which I had paid no attention to at first, now became more interesting, and when faced with an array of choices for the post-lunch workshop, it was an easy decision to join well over 100 people in the College chapel to hear Dr. Lundestad explain Nobel, Nobel’s Will, and the history of the Nobel Peace Prize, especially a number of controversial awards, the final one, the President Obama controversy.
When it came to President Obama, Dr. Lundestad essentially repeated the position stated at the 2011 event at Augsburg (film linked above).
The Nobel Committee, appointed by the Norwegian Parliament as an independent entity, is mostly women, he said, and is accustomed to controversy from any or all, and is willing to stand on principle. There are very large numbers of nominees (all kept confidential, including the selection process, for a period of 50 years), and the debates inside the committee can be vigorous.
That didn’t appear to have been the case with the selection of President Obama. Far more than anyone else, he met the criteria.
Of course the Committees choice doesn’t satisfy the critics, who feel Obama should give up the prize.
The talk, with ensuing questions and answers, went on for the full hour and 15 minutes. Dr. Lundestad, a historian, dealt with most every type of concern that has been raised over the years.
It appeared that within the audience in the hall, the overwhelming majority saw no problem with how the Nobel Committee operates, but were interested in the conversation.
A great deal of information about the Nobel Peace Prize is accessible here.
Take a look.
(click on photos to enlarge them)

Dr. Geir Lundestad, March 3, 2012, Augsburg College, Minneapolis


Portion of audience at Geir Lundestad presentation March 3, 2012


The posts written about this years Nobel Festival appear at March 1, 2 and 3, and begin here.
See also a followup post on March 5, here.

#529 – Dick Bernard: Day Three Nobel Peace Prize Forum at Augsburg College, Minneapolis. Global Issues

After reading my post on Day Two, a friend asked a perfectly reasonable question: “What is the takeway for you each year you attend this Forum?”
My answer: exhausted as I am, back home after the third and final full day of the Forum: I feel, as I’ve heard said in another context, “touched, moved and inspired” – an energized exhaustion. I’m ready to go another round, and when the next Forum convenes at Augsburg (March 7-9, 2013), I’ll be there, Lord willing.
I’ll likely do a fourth post in the next few days, attempting to summarize the many takeaways from this years Forum. These takeaways will all be simple: in short, I came to conclude, as I was driving home an hour or two ago, that the Forum’s official theme: “The Price of Peace”, is essentially an identical twin of the occasional play on the phrase that I heard the last three days: “The Prize of Peace”. They are tied to each other.
You can’t win the prize, without personally and individually paying the price. Peace is not a spectator sport, where you simply pay for admission and watch the action.
In many and diverse ways the assorted speakers and performers demonstrated these ‘twins’. But that’s for later.
As before, video of today’s major sessions, featuring F.W. deKlerk and Naomi Tutu (Desmond Tutu’s daughter), are archived here (see first two programs archived there).
A small photo album of my experience today is below.
I need to comment, briefly, on former S. Africa President F. W. deKlerk, this years honored Laureate.
I’m like most people: there’s far too much information, too many issues, and too little time to absorb more than a smidgen in particular areas or passions. In this manic 21st century, we all become ‘specialists’ in our own bias or interest. This causes intellectual shortcuts about everything else which result in generalizations that often are not fair or accurate.
I’ve been involved with Augsburg and the Peace Prize program for the last four years, and when I heard that F. W. deKlerk had been engaged as speaker for this years Forum, I wondered why.
Apartheid came to mind of course, and we’d seen Invictus (excellent), and most everybody knows about Nelson Mandela, and I wasn’t aware Mandela and deKlerk were co-laureates in 1993.
September 15, 2011, I wrote Forum Executive Director Dr. Reed a short memo: “I know F.W. deKlerk has been engaged for the 2012 Forum/Festival. This summer I had occasion to read Naomi Klein’s NYTimes Bestseller “The Shock Doctrine: The Rise of Disaster Capitalism”. It might be good for you to take a look at Chapter 10 of that book pp 245-275. Its “Democracy Born in Chains: South Africa’s Constricted Freedom. The book, now a few years old, is widely read, and in many ways prophetic of our present day.”
Said book wasn’t especially kind to post-free election South Africa.
So, I had “[pre]judged the [deKlerk] book by its cover”.
Rushing to judgement is always a dangerous proposition.
Yesterday, President deKlerk made my day, as described in yesterday’s post, here. Here he was, a real human being sitting three feet or less from me, one of the most important persons I’ve ever been in proximity with, identifying with and obviously moved by those First Graders singing from the heart….
Last night we were one of those privileged to meet him in person, and have our photo taken with him. Lynn and Donna Elling were with us – we had our photo taken together – and I gave Mr. deKlerk my card which features the website, A Million Copies, which honors the immense contributions to peace of Mr. Elling and Prof. Joe Schwartzberg.
President deKlerk put the card in his pocket, and if I’m lucky he’ll take a look at the site sometime.
The two personal close calls with the human being deKlerk opened up a greatly enhanced listening space for me when I heard him speak this morning. His remarks on-line speak abundantly for themselves.
As for me, I’ve learned once again that important lesson: never pass up the opportunity for personal contact with someone you don’t think you’ll like. Maybe you might learn something…about yourself.
Thanks Nobel Institute, Augsburg College, and everyone who made this years Forum possible.
It was great.
Other summary learnings in a followup post. The previous posts are at March 1 and March 2.
Here are a few photos from today (click on photos to enlarge):

Nobel Laureate and former South Africa President F. W. deKlerk addresses the Nobel Peace Prize Forum, March 3, 2012


Heatherlyn (left) and John Noltner (right) teamed for a great session on music and peace, one story at a time.  The room was packed.
John Noltner’s website, APeaceOfMyMind.net; note . Heatherlyn’s as well.

Geir Lundestad, Director of the Nobel Institute in Oslo, gave a fascinating and informative talk on the history of controversial Nobel Peace Prizes.


Norwegian Nobel Peace Prize Institute here

LaJune Lang and Nadifa Osman led a packed workshop on The Price of Peace n the Horn of Africa


International Leadership Institute here (per Judge Lajune Lang); and Nadifa Osman

#527 -Dick Bernard: Day One, Business and Art and Music Day, at the Nobel Peace Prize Forum at Augsburg College, Minneapolis MN

UPDATE March 8, 2012: A personal photo album from the entire Nobel Peace Prize Forum is accessible here.
A wonderful Jazz combo from Augsburg College opened the 2012 Forum, first with a fine rendition of John Lennon’s Imagine, and Sting’s We Work the Black Seam Together.
It was a neat beginning to a superb day, jam-packed with thought provoking talks and workshops on the general topic of Business around the Forum’s theme: “The Price of Peace”. We came home very tired and very satisfied.
There is no adequate way to condense six jam-packed hours into 600 words or less. Here’s an attempt.
The first day was fully subscribed.
In the general sessions, Alf Bjorseth, chairman of Scatec As, gave a highly informative talk on “Renewable Energy:The Business of Renewing Peace & Stability”; Republic of South Africa Ambassador Ebrahim Rasool, discussed the role of business in stabilizing the wider world and local communities as well; at the close, South African Sakumzi “Saki” Macozoma, five year veteran of infamous Robben Island Prison, talked about Business and the Price of Peace in Post-Apartheid South Africa. (click on photos to enlarge.)

Alf Bjorseth, at right, with Johnathan Mann, March 1, 2012


S. Africa Ambassador Ebrahim Rasool and responder panel March 1, 2012


Sakumzi "Saki" Macozoma Mar 1, 2012


All three of these talks, which were live streamed around the world, are archived and are already available for viewing on-line at the Forum website. They are all well worth the time. Bjorseth and Macozoma’s talks were followed by q&a expertly moderated by CNN’s Johnathan Mann. Ambassador Rasool’s talk was followed by a responder panel moderated by Caux Roundtable founder Stephen Young and including Roger Conant (International Investment Advisor), Doug Tice (Minneapolis Star Tribune), and Carol Kitchen (Land O’Lakes).
The sessions for the next two days will be live-streamed as well.
Attend if you can. Register on-line here.
Between major sessions today were a wide array of workshops.
My choices were Business Innovators as Pillars of Peace; and Feeding 9 Billion.
The Feeding 9 Billion workshop was especially interesting, organized by Land O’Lakes, and expertly presented by five persons.
The meeting room was packed to standing room only, and after brief and interesting presentations by five very impressive people, one a native of Kenya, we divided into small groups.
I joined the group facilitated by Bob Beck, a Regional Agronomist (Illinois), Winfield Solutions. There were perhaps a dozen in his ‘circle’, and it was most interesting to note the demographics of our group, and the assorted opinions expressed on various issues relating to U.S. business assistance in other parts of the world. Two women in the group, one Ethiopian, one from India, had strong opinions; others fed in as well with assorted points of view. Beck handled the conversation very well.
Even in 15 minutes discussion, it was possible to conclude that the issues addressed are by no means simple. Words like “honesty”, “trust”, “government”, “business” swirled around. When you sit in circle with people of differing points of view you can learn something. Points of disagreement? Of course, there are those. In human society, where differences are where it’s at, in-person consideration of other points of view is essential.
South Africa has emerged as the informal general theme for this years conference, and Thursday and Friday I’ll hear F. W. DeKlerk speak. DeKlerk won the 1993 Nobel Peace Prize with Nelson Mandela. DeKlerk and Mandela together, and the imperfections of the last 19 years in S. Africa, demonstrate that reaching peace is hard work, and a forever process; slow, but better than the alternative.
Sitting next to us at today’s closing was a young Black man. My spouse struck up a conversation with him. He was a Fulbright scholar from South Africa….
Did we solve the world’s problems today? Will we tomorrow, or Saturday?
Of course not.
But it was great to be a participant in today’s Forum, and I expect the same Friday and Saturday.
Attend if you can.
Follow up posts on Day Two and Day Three are found here and here.

#526 – Paul Miller and Dick Bernard: Haiti, remembering eight years ago

About this time of year in 2002, Paul Miller and I met each other at a meeting, and we learned we lived in the same community.
Paul was already active in the cause of Justice for Haiti, and over the coming months he began to urge me to visit the island Republic with him. It took a while. Though I was a geography major, I needed to re-learn where Haiti was, and a little about it.
Finally, Paul won me over, and on December 6, 2003, we landed in Port-au-Prince, just in time to see the democratically elected government of Jean-Bertrand Aristide begin to fall to a foreign state sponsored coup d’etat, which ended with President Aristide and his wife being spirited out of the country in the middle of the night, early Feb. 29, 2004, aboard a U.S. aircraft, with a final destination in the Central African Republic. (I guess, though I don’t recall it, that I’m the one who told Paul that Aristide had been taken out of the country.)
Our week, December 6-13, 2003, was an extraordinarily rich learning experience, which gave lots of direct context to assess the later reporting, which left out the positives we had experienced: our context simply didn’t fit the official U.S. narrative….
For those with an interest, there’s tons of information readily available from the Aristide government point of view. Don’t stop with the “official” U.S. narrative.
Following the photo (click on it to enlarge) are’s Paul’s thoughts, and following those, a link to my own reflections written late December, 2003, on our memorable week in Haiti, December 6-13, 2003.

Group visits with Michelle Karshan, President Aristede's foreign press liaison, Dec 11, 2003. From left: Jeff Nohner, Paul Miller, Rita Nohner, Michelle Karshan, Rita Nohner, Fisher, Dick Bernard


Paul Miller, February 29, 2012:
“Seems like yesterday, but also seems like a really long time ago
Haiti, 8 years later
I remember very well where I was when I learned that President Aristide had left Haiti in the early morning hours of February 29, 2004. It was my “where were you when you heard JFK was shot” moment, although I have that memory, too. It was at Caribou Coffee in Woodbury, Minnesota and my friend, who had traveled with me to Haiti in December of 2003, 3 months earlier, informed me that news reports were saying that Aristide had left Haiti. LEFT HAITI? No way, was my first thought. I did not think that Aristide would ever abdicate his presidential term in Haiti by his own choice after the 1991 coup against him and his 1994 return. Stunned and devastated would accurately describe how I received this most depressing news.
The facts would come to show that my instincts were right. President Aristide had no intention of leaving Haiti on that night or on any night during the remaining time of his presidency. Clearly he DID NOT leave that night of his own volition. You can choose to believe whatever you want to believe about US actions on this day and about US actions towards Haiti on any given day. However, if you choose to value the truth, then you will accept /learn that the facts show that Jean Bertrand Aristide was removed by US force/s and yet another coup d’etat took place in Haiti. The only real evidence offered of an alternative scenario are the self serving statements from those at the top of our government, chiefly George W. Bush, Donald Rumsfeld and the sycophantic Colin Powell.
It’s not ancient history, like a lot of our nefarious actions towards Haiti. It was 8 years ago. Yesterday it was announced that President Aristide is being investigated for drug violations. Our hypocrisy really knows no bounds. What a coincidence that once again we are challenged to question Aristide’s integrity and ethics rather than to be reminded that there was a US sponsored coup that undermined Haiti’s hope for democracy and stability on this day, 8 short years ago.”

Dick Bernard reflections written late December, 2003: accessible here.

#498 – Dick Bernard: Haiti. Thoughts on the second anniversary of the earthquake

There are, of course, many perspectives about realities in Haiti. Following are three for the second anniversary of the earthquake, January 12, 2010. Comments are solicited. Access at the end of this post.
The Haiti micro-finance Fonkoze
had a very interesting one hour Webinar on the situation ‘on the ground’ in Haiti on January 11, 2012. It can be heard/seen online here.
A significant book, Tectonic Shifts, released this week, gives many perspectives on the aftereffects of the Haiti earthquake. Details including full description of contents here.
My personal thoughts: Today is the second anniversary of the devastating earthquake in Haiti. A year ago we had Bell Ringing for Haiti at the moment of the earthquake. It was very successful. This year there are any number of commemorations of the awful event.
Haiti recovery continues, though slower than desirable. There have been and continue to be many very serious problems.
I choose a ‘good news’ message this year.
In October, 2011, my friend Paul Miller sent the following photo, taken June 1, 2011, somewhere in the Port-au-Prince area of Haiti (click on all photos to enlarge).

Natalie Miller and Lavarice Gaudin, Haiti, June 1, 2011


The photo was of Paul and Sharon Miller’s daughter, Natalie, with Lavarice Gaudin of WhatIf? Foundation, looking at locally grown Haitian agricultural produce to be used for the food program at Ste. Clare church in Port-au-Prince. (You can read the WhatIf? and Ste. Clare story here.)
This photo is a shining sign of hope for Haiti.
In November, Lavarice came to Northfield MN as a guest of the Haiti Justice Alliance, and on November 9 we heard him speak at the University of Minnesota.

Lavarice Gaudin, November 9, 2011, at University of Minnesota


I’ve been around the Haiti Justice community long enough to know the drill: there is injustice; you can go to Haiti and see injustice; someone comes from Haiti to speak about injustice. And the injustice continues.
But I’ve been seeing increasing evidence that the action conversation between Haiti and the massive number of NGOs involved in Haiti is slowly but perceptibly changing, and WhatIf?/Lavarice Gaudin/Haiti Justice Alliance together are one piece of what I hope is increasing evidence of change from a charity to a justice model of outside involvement in Haiti.

Lavarice – who we first met in Miami in March, 2006, on a visit with Fr. Gerard Jean-Juste – is native Haitian, college graduate. I had the privilege of meeting Fr. Jean-Juste at Mass in his Ste. Clare parish in early December, 2003, subsequently following his life through trial and tragedy…imprisonment and ultimately death at a too-young age. On that March, 2006, visit, I was put in touch with Fr. Jean-Juste through Lavarice Gaudin, who in turn I had learned of through passionate Haiti advocate and Haitian Marguerite Laurent (“Ezilidanto” in one of the google references to Jean-Juste, above).
I mention all of this because there are endless networks between the U.S., other countries, and Haiti. Unfortunately, the dominant ones, as our own government, have too often been negative and oppressive and dis-empowering to the Haitians.
But there are very positive networks as well. They don’t all agree on tactics and strategies, but the important thing is that they are working tirelessly for justice, part of which requires self-determination for the Haitian people, who have been denied that self-determination.
I was attracted to that photo of Natalie and Lavarice because of the many things it symbolized.
Here was a young, idealistic, American college student, an intern for WhatIf? Foundation. Here also was a Haitian with lots of talent and lots of ideals who moved easily in the U.S. and in Haiti, and who had come back to Haiti to work for a more secure future for the people of his country.
And here, symbolized by the growing corn in the field, was a Haitian farmer, who if I recall Lavarice’s words correctly, was paid for use of his land, and also paid for the produce of the land, which was in turn used to feed the people of Ste. Clare.
Certainly, this is just one example, of many, but it is an example.
A couple of days ago I had occasion to use that warm Haitian proverb, common in many cultures: “Men anpil, chay pa lou” (“Many hands [make] the load lighter.”)
This proverb presumes people working together, not at cross purposes. Many hands fighting each other does not make “the load lighter”.
The road to change is long and very, very difficult, but I hope that year three after the earthquake will bring more and more progress and true recovery to the wonderful people of Haiti.

Fr. Gerard Jean-Juste and parishioners at Ste. Clare Parish Port-au-Prince Haiti December 7, 2003


Enter the word “haiti” in the search box of this blog and you will find many references to Haiti.
My personal web site re Haiti is here. It includes a comparative map, and historic timeline. Yes, it needs updating….

#497 – Dick Bernard: The Nobel Peace Prize Forum at Augsburg College, Minneapolis, March 1-3, 2012

I’d encourage your participation in the 2012 Nobel Peace Prize Forum at Augsburg College, March 1-3, 2012. Details are here, and more suggestions are in the last paragraph of this post. Here is some background.

BACKGROUND:
In 2007, I was invited to join the planning committee of the annual Nobel Peace Prize Festival, and join the Board of a group, World Citizen, dedicated to Peace Education in the broadest sense of that word. More information on both are accessible here and here. (World Citizen has a long history in the Twin Cities dating back to 1982. World Citizen founder, Lynn Elling, co-founded the Nobel Peace Prize Festival)
The allied (with the Festival) Nobel Peace Prize Forum also has a very long history, 23 years, beginning in 1989, and since the beginning has been a cooperative venture between the Norwegian Nobel Peace Prize Institute, Oslo, and the five Norwegian Lutheran Colleges of Luther (Decorah IA), St. Olaf (Northfield), Augsburg (Minneapolis), Concordia (Moorhead) and Augustana (Sioux Falls).
The Forum/Festival are unique in the world.
(A similar conference for the four Swedish Nobel winners (Economics, etc.) is held at Gustavus Adolphus each year. Details here.
There is some understandable confusion about the Oslo and Stockholm Nobels, best explained by the respective websites, here and here. It is not a matter of competition between Norway and Sweden; rather it was intended by Alfred Nobel himself.)
Following the 2011 Forum, the five colleges and Nobel Institute agreed to move the Nobel Peace Prize Forum (primarily for college level and above) to Augsburg College for 2011 and 2012. In addition, the previous Festival (primarily for K-12 school age students) will be integrated into the Forum and have a specific day.
All details about the Nobel Peace Prize Forum at Augsburg College in Minneapolis are available here and will be updated regularly.

HERE ARE SOME SUGGESTED WAYS TO PARTICIPATE IN THIS YEARS FORUM AT AUGSBURG:
As one who has experienced both Forum and Festival at Augsburg, I would highly recommend this years activity, and urge your support, which you can provide in several ways:
1. By participating yourself (you can register on-line)
2. By letting others know about the event.
3. By contributing financially either as an individual or through your company or other institution.
4. A fourth way, if you wish, could be through pooling of donations through an ad hoc group I have set up (with knowledge of Augsburg). Details are accessible here: Nobel Festival 2012001
Whatever you do, I encourage your support of this fine program.

At Augsburg Nobel Peace Prize Festival March, 2008

#496 – War Horse…Imagine Peace

We went to an outstanding movie at the local theater yesterday: Steven Spielberg’s War Horse. My spouse asked me more than once, “are you all right?” It is one of those films that elicits strong emotional response. I would guess I wasn’t alone among the surprisingly large crowd in the dark, quiet theater.
War Horse opened Christmas Day and is set in WWI England and France. There are a great plenty of reviews. Take your pick.
My personal reviewer – the friend who urged us to see the movie – was my friend, 90 year old Lynn Elling, born shortly after WWI and a veteran of the Pacific war in WWII, an officer on an LST in both WWII and Korea, who saw in person the carnage at places like Tarawa (WWII ship biography for LST 172 at end of this post).
Lynn saw War Horse opening day. The Elling’s Christmas letter, received pre-release, urged receivers to see the film.
Lynn’s visit to Hiroshima in 1954 cemented his lifelong dedication to seeking enduring peace in our world; he is tireless in his quest.

Lynn Elling aboard LST 172, 1944


(click on photos to enlarge them)
Lynn’s story can be found here.
Sure, War Horse is simply a story, as are most movies we attend. But it elevates the better side of humanity.
I would suspect its timed release on Christmas Day in some way was meant to mirror the oft-told story of the Christmas Day Truce on the WWI battle lines. There are endless renditions of this true story. Here’s the portal to them – take your pick.
There is truly an opportunity for peace on earth, and it is the people like ourselves who will make it happen.
See War Horse for yourself. I don’t believe the two hours and twenty minutes will disappoint.

Lynn and Donna Elling Sep 22, 2011


The account of service of LST 172 in WWII, below (click to enlarge) and in pdf form here: Lynn Elling LST 172001
Biography of LST 172