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Posts in category Africa

Playing with the boys…

Laura Gordon | Posted August 1st, 2009 | Africa

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Yesterday it was an American called Tom (also known as Chief)’s birthday, so I bunked off work early in the afternoon to go to Bora Bora and play beach volleyball with the marines and other US Embassy staff. Which I’m pretty sure I’ve never played before, but which was actually pretty fun. Considering that I have more or less the worst hand-eye coordination in the world, and avoid ball sports like the plague, I was also less awful at it than I expected – definitely an experience to repeat! I also just about managed to avoid making any gratuitous Top Gun references… until now, that is!

The evening ended at the marine house watching movies and staring open-mouthed at their utterly sweet house – huge pool, gym, massive TV, playstation, airconditioning etc. At one level I was jealous, thinking grimly of my cold hand-held shower, but at another, it highlighted for me one of the big problems with expatriate living. They had everything shipped in from home, and really only talk to other Americans – with some honourable exceptions, they interact with Burundians so little that they might as well have stayed home. They have cars and drive themselves – so no need to get their heads around the local public transport. They never go to the market. They have their own hangouts and talk to each other (partly due to different tastes – I seem to like totally different places to my Burundian friends!).

The expatriate scene can be all-encompassing, fuelling its own assumptions and prejudices about the host country, and is a major problem when it comes to international agencies staffed by foreigners who never really interact with locals – causing a lack of understanding that can derail projects. Even when people want to get to know local people and the local scene, it can be difficult – they don’t know where to start, and anyway, there’s always another party to go to. This is definitely something I’ve experienced – when I lived in Uganda my HQ was very definitely Bubbles O’Leary’s, the Irish pub frequented by expats.

Here I’ve had the opposite experience – for the first month or so I didn’t have any bazungu friends, and instead I’ve made some great Burundian friends who I hope I will stay in touch with and maybe one day see again. Lack of transport and a determination to demonstrate my independence forced me to take on the mighty beasts of the local buses and the marche central – encounters that left me flustered, but more or less victorious. I’ve lived in Africa in a way I haven’t before – and I hope that I won’t go back.

Having said that, my month of total immersion did drive me slightly crazy, leaving me escaping to Rwanda for weekends. I realised that I do need to speak English, make jokes that I don’t have to explain, and, occasionally, laugh over Burundian idiosyncrasies (personally I still find the way they talk about Rwanda hilarious, but of course I can’t say that to Burundians!). In the last week I’ve finally made some bazungu friends, and jumped into the expat scene feet first – making up for lost time. Everyone is great, and I have fun with them. But I’m starting to feel claustrophobic already – obligations every night, and always the same people. And the guilty feeling that I’m neglecting my Burundian friends has crept into the pit of my stomach. Next week is my last week, and I think it’s time to leave expat land for Burundi.

Profile: Eric Niragira

Laura Gordon | Posted July 31st, 2009 | Africa

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In the two months I have been in Burundi, I’ve got to know Eric pretty well. Perhaps the most important point to make, is that speaking to Eric, you wouldn’t ever guess that he had ever been a former combatant. Well dressed, eloquent in French and able to communicate effectively in English, he is conspicuously intelligent. You don’t need to know him well, to see that he is highly motivated, having put himself through university at the same time as founding and running an organisation that represents 25,000 former combatants (and counting).

Survivor Corps put me under significant pressure to profile Eric as the first thing I did. But I’m glad I didn’t, because at the time I hadn’t had the opportunity to get to know him, and there are questions - about the war, his motivations for joining - that I can’t ask a friend. But through watching and listening, I’ve started to see the other side to Eric. When we went to the interior and he pointed out the hills in which he fought as a rebel; when we meet General Joseph Nkrunziza, the head of the Army’s former combatants unit, he refers to him as ‘my general’; when we look at a box of grenades and magazines ready to be handed in and he picks one up and criticises the rust before replacing it. These throwaway lines and gestures give a window into Eric’s past, and a key to understanding who he is.

Eric was only with the rebels for a short time but, he says, he saw a lot. He left early and voluntarily, returned to school and then university. The idea to found CEDAC came to him gradually, as he watched the first steps towards peace; talking with former combatants, he had a vision of harnessing the energy used to destroy the country to rebuild it. Since then, the organisation has grown to become the largest former combatants’ umbrella organisation in the country, organising peer support groups for former combatants and victims of war, micro-projects (some funded by donors, some funded as mutual support and self-help projects). They support training for their members, including supporting a training centre for young people in Bujumbura - Eric is considering starting similar centres elsewhere in the country, if funding can be found. And they have started a programme to use their members to sensitise their communities about the importance of peaceful elections.

Eric is working very closely with Pierre Claver in setting up Survivor Corps’ programme in the country. Here is a clip of him talking about what is has meant for him and for CEDAC:

If you want to read more about CEDAC, you can visit my description of their work here, their website here, and Eric’s blog here - he’s promised to post news and updates at least once a week, so check back to see what he has to say!

Death Duties

Laura Gordon | Posted July 31st, 2009 | Africa

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This week has been a bit hectic. One of Brian’s aunts passed away last week, and Nana spent most of last week looking for a place for her children to stay during the deuil (mourning period). Unfortunately, she wasn’t able to find anywhere, so the only solution was for Brian and Nana to move into Brian’s parents’ house, and me to stay elsewhere – luckily Morgan was able to find me some sofa space, so I’ve moved to Mutanga North, in North-West Bujumbura, and should soon be moving in with Pierre Claver (no idea where) for the remainder of the time here. The whole process has been pretty complicated and I’ll be glad to be settled for the last few days. What makes it harder is that the guy who washes Brian and Nana’s laundry for them has lost half my clothes – 3 out of 6 T-shirts, 1 out of 3 shirts, my boardies, and my sarong. Needless to say I am unimpressed, particularly about the shirt and the boardies, which I actually do need to go rafting in. As a result have been alternating between daily laundry and smelling.

Rant over, I feel pretty awful for the family – they all live in Canada and it’s a pretty miserable way to come back to your homeland after absences of ten years. On top of that, they’ve had to organise last-minute leave and pay for plane tickets, which can’t be cheap, and Brian and Nana have been really good to me this summer, so I’m glad to help where I can. I’ve also found it interesting to learn about Burundian funeral preparations – African funerals generally pull out all the stops, to the extent that funeral costs have been one of the major causes of the impoverishment that has followed the HIV/AIDS epidemic. The Burundian deuil is also interesting; every night, the family and friends of the deceased person gather to support the family – an illustration of the communality of Burundian living. To be honest, that sounds like my worst nightmare; like most Westerners, I like my personal space, particularly when bad stuff happens, and being constantly surrounded by dozens of people sounds highly stressful and like it would make things worse.

I think this difference is perhaps the most important one between (many) African and (many) (Northern) Western cultures – the insistence on or lack of understanding of personal space. It has physical elements – one of the things Westerners here complain about is that Burundians are very tactile – but also social elements – Burundian friends have tended to express a total lack of comprehension when I’ve said that I like to sit at home and read sometimes. I also wonder if it feeds into things like semi-obsessive church attendance – several Burundians have flat-out refused to believe me when I claim that it’s possible to pray in private!

In case it’s unclear, I’m not criticising this communality – it brings enormous benefits in terms of mutual support, though I think that privacy also has a place – just commenting that despite years and years in Africa, this still gives me a culture shock. And I’m looking forward to getting back somewhere where people don’t feel the need to touch me all the time during conversation!

A Different Type of Survivor…

Laura Gordon | Posted July 30th, 2009 | Africa

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Lisa has already posted about Bujumbura’s Musee Vivante, which we visited while she and Bryan were in Bujumbura. While we were there, the crocodiles had just been fed, so we missed out on the joy of feeding them live guinea pigs. However, when my friend Morgan visited with a couple of the marines, they had better luck. Since she is herself a renowned blogger, I’ll let you read it in her own words, but give you a taste by telling you know that one baby guinea pig, which we’ve now named Harry Potter*, emerged victorious from his encounter with the crocodile and being adopted by the marines… but it’s worth reading the whole story! Very cute photos and further updates on Harry’s wellbeing to follow!

*Further investigation has led to Harry being renamed Harriet

Staff Benda Bilili

Laura Gordon | Posted July 29th, 2009 | Africa

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If you want a survivor story with bells on (sort of literally, as it’s about musicians!) check out this article on Congolese band Staff Benda Bilili, who I first learned about while reading the SN Brussels in-flight magazine while waiting to pick up my US visa. All of the band members have physical disabilities, many resulting from polio. They are able to transport themselves on self-built ‘wheelchairs’, and formed a band, many playing instruments that they have built themselves.

The name ‘Benda Bilili’ means ‘look beyond appearances’ in Lingala, and their songs often feature contemporary issues affecting people with disabilities, such as the importance of polio vaccinations.

Coco Ngambali, the group’s primary songwriter, told The Independent: “We see ourselves as journalists. We’re the real journalists because we’re not afraid of anyone. We communicate messages to mothers, to those who sleep on the streets on cardboard boxes, to the shégués (the disabled homeless).”

The article also mentions that the internet has been important in allowing the band to break through into the European market:

Staunchly self-reliant, the band members built up their musical careers with no help from others and have only just recently garnered attention from European world music fans. Prior to their recent success, they would have to busk on the street near the zoo – or even across the street from the United Nations office in Kinshasa – to make money for food.

The powerful web video service You Tube has driven awareness of the band, as hundreds of thousands of people have viewed their videos online.

Disarmament Ceremony

Laura Gordon | Posted July 28th, 2009 | Africa

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UPDATE: You can now see two videos of the ceremony here.

Last week I was fortunate enough to be able to attend a disarmament ceremony in Muramvya Commune, Rutegama Province, in the middle of the country. Getting there was pretty stressful – found out I needed to be at the Gare du Nord while still in bed and about half an hour before I had to be there, so got a taxi there, and found Amable, CEDAC’s youth coordinator, waiting for me. We got a share-taxi up to Muramvya, where we arrived half an hour before the ceremony was due to start, and an hour before it actually started; Burundian time. Amable was very apologetic but I didn’t mind at all – it gave me time to take pictures of the weapons being handed in, watch the performance of traditional dancers (as well as the ubiquitous drumming group, they also had a women’s dance group, who were very good, even if the dance did involve a slightly-incongruous blowing of whistles).

Dance Group
Dance Group

Women's Dance Group
Women's Dance Group

Drumming Celebrations
Drumming Celebrations

I was impressed by the number of people at the ceremony – the whole town had turned out, dressed in Sunday best and patiently waiting for the ceremony to begin. When it finally began, we had speeches from Amable, a local dignatory, and a man from the Disarmament Commission. All the speeches talked of peace – I could pick out the word amahoro – and were greeted with cheers and dancing by the drummers at dramatic moments in the speeches. The speech by the representative of the Disarmament Commission went on for some time – he name-checked the President a few times and, although the crowd started enthusiastic (the CNDD-FDD are strong in this area), they were waning a bit by the end. But on the whole it was an occasion filled with celebration and hope.

Attendees
Attendees

The weapons being handed in
The weapons being handed in

After the ceremony, I had the opportunity to talk to the representative from the Disarmament Commission. Speaking in excellent English, he told me that they had up to 4 of these ceremonies a week, but that they are concentrated at the end of the month, so that there are 6 or 7 a month. He also told me that this will be one of the last ceremonies, as at the end of next month a new law will come into force making possession of a firearm illegal, meaning that the country will effectively move to a system of forcible disarmament.

This is something that in many ways makes sense – there has been a transition period, and it seems like a good idea to minimise the number and legitimacy of weapons before the election – but I also have serious misgivings. If people are holding on to their guns, they often do so for a reason; this is particularly the case in Burundi, where the army has often been a participant in intercommunal violence and, despite the peace agreement and integration of the army, many people still feel that they’d be wise to be cautious. Even more worryingly, there are risks of selective disarmament; the government can only check up on areas that politically oppose them, thus giving their supporters a monopoly of violence by the election. Finally, and less concretely, I have a knee-jerk reaction against anything that seems authoritarian; what I like about this country is precisely that it has not gone down the authoritarian route in the way that some of its neighbours have, and it would worry me if this changed. I have yet to discuss this with any Burundians (I know that Adrien and Claver are reading, so I’d be interested to know what you think!) but hope to do so later in the week, and will update with any insights they are able to give me.

Mining Burundi

Laura Gordon | Posted July 27th, 2009 | Africa

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Nope, not the kind that blow up kids and tanks, the kind that extract nickel. This weekend I was at Bora Bora, and met a South African man sitting alone. It was a slightly awkward conversation – he was very much a member of the distressingly-large number of white people who’ve spent their lives in Africa who always seems to be on the point of saying something racist, but never quite crosses the line, so you spend the whole conversation talking about how great your Burundian friends are so as to make the point that you’d rather they didn’t say anything racist. If you’ve spent enough time in expat bars in Africa you’ll know what I mean. But the conversation was interesting, so I stuck with it.

He had been in Burundi for about six months, and initially to investigate the possibility of a nickel mine and now in the process of starting it up; he expected this to take another 18 months. He worked for a South African company (he did tell me which but I was a couple of Primuses in by this stage and I honestly can’t remember!), and we talked a little about how important South African finance is for African development; my personal feeling is that South African companies are better at taking individual African countries on their own merits, rather than having a knee-jerk country-emerging-from-conflict reaction of “No Way!”. Added to this the fact that they’re prepared to absorb more risk in Africa, and you can see why they can be crucial to the development of countries like Burundi; there’s no way that a Western company would be starting a mine here until after next year’s election.

Now obviously, there are questions about whether finding natural resources is a good thing – the natural resource curse is well known – but my feeling is that Burundi has done a pretty good job of beating itself up without natural resources, so having them can’t be a whole lot worse. Plus there’s the fact that it’s one of the poorest countries in the world, so any investment and any jobs created are a Good Thing. It’s also optimistic that an Anglophone company, led by staff who don’t speak French, is managing to operate in Burundi – Rwanda is already progressing well in its shift towards English, and now that both countries are members of the East African Community, English will be crucial to their development. This is something Burundians recognise – Everyone seems to want to learn English, and I’ve been surprised by the number of people who at least understand it* – but which it is pretty hard to actually do. One of the things I spent the whole of my first month trying to find out was what Burundi actually exports, eventually working out that the answer was coffee, tea and flowers. Those aren’t a great basis for an entire economy, so I hope that diversifying into raw materials as well will help the country.

One last thing; he told me that they will be exporting via Tanzania, because they are in the South of the country. This pleased me greatly; I find it very hard to understand why, when Mombasa is further than Dar and involves three border crossings instead of one, and the main roads in Tanzania are generally better, all of Burundi’s produce seems to go out through Rwanda – incidentally also making Burundi vulnerable to disturbance in three countries instead of just one. I keep asking my Burundian friends why this is, and apart from vague aspersions about Rwandan hegemony, they don’t generally have a clear answer. I’m glad to see that I’m not the only one that sees the other way as making more sense!

*I’ve got a theory that DSTV showings of premiership matches help by exposing people to English, but this might be just one of my theories!

Africa Time

Laura Gordon | Posted July 27th, 2009 | Africa

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One of the things that drives me, and most of the other bazungu I know, absolutely crazy, is the fact that here it is not only acceptable to be several hours late for meeting someone, with no obligation to call and let them know that you’ll be late, but also that it’s OK to just not show up. But there is, of course, a flip side, and I wanted to share an incident from my trip to Rwanda; while we were walking along trying to find our hotel, we stopped a young woman and asked for directions. Rather than just pointing us in the right direction and sending us on our way, she walked with us almost the whole way to the hotel, on the way telling us that she had just finished qualifying for a lawyer and was in the interview process with a job with Avocats Sans Frontiers, and that she hoped later in her career to study International Law in The Hague. Figuring that she was probably on her way to meet someone and will have been late because she was showing us the way makes me feel much better whenever someone is hours late to pick me up!

Visiting Goma

Laura Gordon | Posted July 26th, 2009 | Africa

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So while I was in Rwanda last weekend, I was able to follow up my long-held ambition to visit DRC – mainly so that I can say I’ve been (already added it to the facebook ‘where I’ve been’!), but also because I’ve always thought it would be really interesting to go and just have a better image of what it’s like than you get from the news (even if only a little bit better). And I’m really glad I did – I’m still having a little trouble processing, but thought I’d post some of my reflections, and I’d be interested to know what people thought.

The first point is one made well by Richard Dowden in his new book, but which I’ve also picked up from reading fellow Peace Fellow Walter’s blog from Uvira; Congo doesn’t function like a state. You have to pay a lot of bribes (Walter to get his passport back from a random guy, and on our trip Parker paid a $20 bribe to get out after forgetting his yellow fever certificate, and that was only within about 4 hours), and even in the centre of town there are barely the modicum of services; things like piles of trash EVERYWHERE, no need to change money because no-one uses anything but dollars, etc*. Then there’s the usual war-zone stuff – but taken to a whole new level. Normally there are a lot of NGO cars and a lot of UN air-conditioned vehicles. Here there were barely any NGO cars and barely any UN civilian cars – but a host of UN military vehicles, petrol tankers, and the like, and a massively fortified base complete with airstrip. Proof that the development enterprise has yet to hit – just too dangerous to work effectively.

There’s also obviously massive poverty – even in the centre of town, the standard of housing is poor, there are a lot of ragged and malnourished street children (we spotted one chewing an electric wire), and almost no cars except those owned by the UN. Also, as you would expect, there is lava everywhere and are a lot of houses in various states of disrepair. Interestingly many of them had pretty new-looking roofs, which would presumably have been nicked had they been there long; this suggests that they’re being built – but who would build big fancy lakefront houses in Goma?

That bit was the depressing stuff – but the real reason I’m glad I went was that it made it more three-dimensional than what you see on TV; Congo isn’t just warlords and fighting and women getting raped; it also has towns where, despite everything, people cope. They use matatus and moto-taxis like everywhere else in the region. On Sundays they get out their best outfits – well made out of beautiful pagnes – and go to church – we visited one that had an altar cloth using a cut up ICRC badge for the cross. When they need to transport stuff they build wooden push-bikes that they attach dozens of jerry cans to; the technology is medieval, but it works and they can build and fix it themselves. There were also signs of 21st century Africa, with adverts for mobile phones everywhere – but unlike everywhere else, they take up all the shopfronts, showing how utterly the Congolese economy has collapsed. Visiting Goma is depressing and in the context of Congo’s vast mineral wealth it is a monument to war and the resulting poverty. But it is also a testament to human ingenuity; it made me realise how people are adaptable; being born Congolese is a pretty bum deal, but people cope, and do everything they can to help themselves – to put it crudely, they don’t need saving, they need a little help, and if they get it they’ll use it imaginatively to get the most they possibly can out of it.

It was also interesting to compare Goma to Burundi, and Buj in particular. Buj has developed really fast – the suburban streets are still heavily rutted dirt tracks, with only the main arteries paved, and my friends are constantly taking me down roads that, they say, were only recently paved. As I posted a couple of days ago, visiting Kigali came as a major culture shock – obviously Kigali is cleaner with better roads than almost any other African city anywhere, but until then I hadn’t realised how underdeveloped Bujumbura is. Visiting Goma made me think that this must have been what Burundi was like ten years ago, in the middle of the war – and coming back to Bujumbura, it made me realise how fast they’re rebuilding their country and how far they’ve come – while visiting Kigali made me want to come back in five years to see how far they’ve travelled along that path.

Lastly, there was the element that was simply weird; Bujumbura is, at times, faintly threatening. Congo takes it to a whole new level. The whole time we were there we were followed by a guy with a rock, which slightly scuppered our attempt to walk out of town. He didn’t try anything, he just followed us with a rock; at first we thought he was going to rob us, later we wondered if he was going to claim to have been our protector and ask for money. But he didn’t ask, so we have no idea; he just followed us with his rock for three hours, occasionally throwing the rock at a passing UN vehicle and choosing another, and foiling all our attempts to lose him by going to church, diving around corners, and so on. Can only imagine the conversation he had in the bar that evening; “I followed some Muzungus for three hours, it was amazing!”

I apologise that this post is a little rambling; as I say, haven’t quite managed to put it all together, but I’d be interested to hear any responses!

You can also see Lisa’s thoughts about the trip here.

*As an aside, my father always makes me take a bunch of $1 bills with me when I travel on the basis that they’re useful for paying for stuff. I’ve never once found this to be true, and am pretty sure that the $1 bills I brought with me this time are the same ones I took when I first went travelling, in 2003. But here there were pretty useful, so I guess I should thank him!

A Trip to Rwanda

Laura Gordon | Posted July 24th, 2009 | Africa

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After Bujumbura, Kigali came as a major culture shock. Rwanda’s roads are well known among old East Africa hands (talking about the state of the roads seems to be the expatriate equivalent of British people’s obsession with talking about the weather), but it still comes as a shock every time. Riding the taxi-moto, I kept bracing myself for the potholes that didn’t come. Walking to the restaurant in the evening, I kept noticing new things – like street lights and pavements – that in some ways seem so natural but in others are downright weird. I found the whole thing very disconcerting, but it was good to be in a country where everything works for a change, and good to see Lisa again and meet Bryan.

We spent the first evening in Kigali, where we had a great Chinese meal with some of Lisa’s friends, who were mostly American but some Europeans, then the next morning up early to get a bus to Gisenyi. We got there in the early afternoon, found a hotel recommended by one of Lisa’s friends, and checked in. Then waited hours for lunch. Lisa, Parker (her housemate in Kigali) and I had all ordered pizza – which turned out to be a mistake, as it resembled nothing so much as a hard bread base with pasta sauce on top like a layer of soup. I actually didn’t find it that bad once I scraped off the pasta sauce, replaced the cheese, and ate the pasta sauce separately, but I was in the minority!

After lunch, we headed to the beach to lie in the sun for a few hours – we used ‘muzungu power’ to walk purposefully into the Serena Hotel, to use their private beach, which was stunning and avoided inevitable uncomfortableness on the public beach next door. The beach was stunning, and the lake great to swim in – a little cold at first, and a bit of a rocky floor in a band just off the shore, and a little bit of an undertow, but that was made up for by the lack of salt, and the waves to play in, bringing out my inner three-year-old. We stayed to watch the sunset, and when the most spectacular rays had passed, wandered back into town – and on the way found a performance by the most incredibly talented acrobatics group. Unfortunately none of us had our flip camera with us, but I got one picture and I think Lisa and Bryan took some photos, some of which will hopefully come out. They were amazing though, leaping and tumbling over one another and forming the most amazing pyramids. Embarrassingly, after the performance they came over and shook hands with Lisa and I; but if you’re ever in Gisenyi on a Saturday night it’s worth wandering down to the park by the Serena to see if they’re there.

Lake Kivu
Lake Kivu

Acrobatic group in Gisenyi
Acrobatic group in Gisenyi

For dinner, we followed our hotel’s recommendation and headed to White Rock, a restaurant by the lake. This turned out to be a Good Decision – one of the best meals I’ve had since I got here, delicious Tilapia in a butter sauce, with potatoes and vegetables, and a crepe with lemon and sugar for desert (the Americans found my pronunciation of ‘crepe’ very amusing) . Then off to bed – slightly challenging as it was a pretty dark night and none of us had a torch – spotting the glowing red of Goma’s volcano on the way. Went to sleep hoping that there wouldn’t be any eruptions or mudslides in the night that might cause Lake Kivu to explode and kill us all, then up in the morning to follow my long-held ambition of going to Congo – on which, a separate post above!

Fellow: Laura Gordon

Survivor Corps in Burundi


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Annelieke van de Wiel
Juliet Hutchings
Kristina Rosinsky
Lucas Wolf
Chi Vu
Danita Topcagic
Heather Gilberds
Jes Therkelsen
Libby Abbott
Mackenzie Berg
Nicole Farkouh
Ola Duru
Paul Colombini
Raka Banerjee
Shubha Bala
Antigona Kukaj
Colby Pacheco
James Dasinger
Janet Rabin
Nicole Slezak
Shweta Dewan
Amy Offner
Ash Kosiewicz
Hannah McKeeth
Heidi McKinnon
Larissa Hotra
Hannah Wright
Krystal Sirman
Rianne Van Doeveren
Willow Heske

2007 Fellows

Johnathan Homer
Adam Nord
Audrey Roberts
Caitlin Burnett
Devin Greenleaf
Jeff Yarborough
Julia Zoo
Madeline England
Maha Khan
Mariko Scavone
Mark Koenig
Nicole Farkouh
Saba Haq
Tassos Coulaloglou
Ted Samuel
Alison Morse
Gail Morgado
Jennifer Hollinger
Katie Wroblewski
Leslie Ibeanusi
Michelle Lanspa
Stephanie Gilbert
Zach Scott
Abby Weil
Jessica Boccardo
Sara Zampierin
Eliza Bates
Erin Wroblewski
Tatsiana Hulko

2006 Interns

Laura Cardinal
Jessical Sewall
Alison Long
Autumn Graham
Donna Laverdiere
Erica Issac
Greg Holyfield
Lori Tomoe Mizuno
Melissa Muscio
Nicole Cordeau
Stacey Spivey
Anya Gorovets
Barbara Bearden
Lynne Engleman
Yvette Barnes
Charles Wright
Sarah Sachs

2005 Interns

Eun Ha Kim
Malia Mason
Anne Finnan
Carrie Hasselback
Karen Adler
Sarosh Syed
Shirin Sahani
Chiara Zerunian
Ewa Sobczynska
MacKenzie Frady
Margaret Swink
Sabri Ben-Achour
Paula
Nitzan Goldberger

2004 Interns

Ginny Barahona
Michael Keller
Sarah Schores
Melinda Willis
Pia Schneider
Stacy Kosko
Carmen Morcos
Christina Fetterhoff
Stacy Kosko
Bushra Mukbil

2003 Interns

Erica Williams
Kate Kuo
Claudia Zambra
Julie Lee
Kimberly Birdsall
Marta Schaaf
Caitlin Williams
Courtney Radsch

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