2014 Fellows

Rights of Sexual Minorities in Ghana

July 29, 2014 by dlk361

David Krebs
Accra, Ghana
The Human Rights Advocacy Center

It’s always been a struggle for me to write about my experiences working, living, and traveling abroad. When it comes to writing about expectations, culture, cultural differences, etc., it is incredibly easy to venture into verbally dangerous waters, and this seems to be especially true when writing about experiences in “Africa.”

News coverage and social media surrounding this year’s World Cup offered some poignant examples of the pitfalls that seem mandatory when it comes to outsiders’ understanding of “Africa.” Delta airlines was hit especially hard when it tweeted the paired images of the Statue of Liberty against a giraffe (USA v. Ghana), apparently unaware that giraffes, in fact, don’t exist in Ghana (please read Africa is a Country). One may be surprised that Delta would make such an error considering it is the ONLY airline that offers direct flights between the US and Ghana.

Our understanding of what an African city or country should look like is often far from the realities on the ground. Ghana is interesting in this respect because it doesn’t fit very well into the singular narrative of what an African country looks like (reminder: there are no giraffes).

I am fortunate to have a basic understanding of what a major African city might look like. My experience working in East Africa offered me the opportunity to spend time in large metropolitan centers such as Dar es Salaam, Nairobi, Kampala, and Kigali, which gave me an idea of what life in Accra could be like. Despite the geographic shift from the east to the west side of the continent, I believe my time in East Africa prepared me well.

I chose to spend my summer in Accra because Ghana seems to be a bit of a paradox in regards to sexual rights and LGBT rights on the continent (my area of focus). A recent Pew survey which asked, “Should homosexuality be accepted in society?” placed Ghana between Uganda and Nigeria as the least accepting of homosexuality, with 96% of respondents saying “no.” This is of interest to me because unlike Uganda and Nigeria, Ghana has remained largely out of the international spotlight in regards to LGBT rights.

Part of my work with sexual minorities in Ghana looks at the role international activism plays in the movement, which is why I was especially happy to attend the first official Gay Pride event in Ghana, hosted at the US Embassy in late June. The event focused more on “knowing your rights” and “how to stay safe” as opposed to celebrating identity or identification.

One of the main arguments against LGBT rights in Ghana (and other African states) is that it is a Western imposition and “un-African.” With this in mind, the fact that the country’s first Pride event was hosted by and on the grounds of the US embassy doesn’t do much to refute the argument of homosexuality as un-African.

It was widely reported that the British government threatened to cut aid to Ghana and governments of “countries that persecute homosexuals” unless they stopped punishing sexual minorities. While the intent may well be to uphold the rights of sexual minorities on the continent, cutting aid disregards LGBTI and broader social justice movements on the continent.

Donor sanctions may in fact be one way of seeking to improve the human rights situation in a country but does not necessarily result in the improved protection of the rights of sexual minorities. Donor sanctions are by nature coercive and reinforce the disproportionate power dynamics between donor countries and recipients. Further, sanctions sustain the divide between sexual minorities and the broader civil society movement. In the context of general human rights violations (gender-based violence, access to health, food security, etc.), singling out LGBTI issues emphasizes the idea that sexual minority rights are special rights and hierarchically more important than other rights.

The Right to Pleasure in the City of Joy

July 16, 2014 by cvj212

Christine Janumala
Durbar Mahila Samanwaya Committee
Kolkata, West Bengal, India

the author holding a toddler — with Christine after bath day at Nabo Jibon

As I sit in Kolkata’s Au Bon Pain writing to a soundtrack of airy café music, a man walks by the window led by his capuchin monkey. At first I mistook her for a tawny street cat, but the monkey’s face is startlingly animate, tender, motherly, and her baby clings to her underbelly with the same soft stare of a street child.

The first time I saw the traveling troupe, it was through a window in a Vodaphone store after nearly three hours of standing in line trying to get an international SIM card. (The wait would extend another three hours the next day.) Seeing a man walk a monkey while I was sitting surrounded by the latest touchscreens has become the visual mascot for what I love about the city. It’s not just the City of Joy; it’s a city of joyful, in-your-face, laugh-out-loud paradoxes. It’s an ashram of absurdity and a meditation on flexibility. It may be a tough pill at times, but with the density of sweet shops in West Bengal, there’s always a spoonful of sugar nearby.

The man and his monkeys usually perform their little drum skit outside of one of the area’s most expensive hotels here on Park Street. Businessmen crowd around, smoking sleek cigarettes and dropping coins into the monkey’s palm. Drive west to the river and the city’s slums rise like funeral ash from the swollen banks of the Hooghly. Drive east to Kolkata’s luxury Quest Mall and find 6 floors of brands from Gucci, Armani, Prada, Michael Kors, Swarovski. India has always held a place of surreality in my heart, as both my homeland and a land of strangers, but rarely does a city thrust this surreality as sharply into focus as Kolkata can.

My journey here thus far has taken a road as long and winding as any of these curving city streets. My first lesson in flexibility came after I had already been named a Gallatin Global Fellow. My original placement in Berlin fell through and I found myself in Kolkata instead. I had not expected to come back to India. I was born in South India, in a city called Chennai, but had been raised in California since I was 3. I had returned twice, once when I was 9 and again when I was 12, to visit my family in the south.

Kolkata, on the other hand, is a city so culturally, linguistically, and geographically distant from my family’s region that it is just as foreign to them as it is to me. Yet after nearly a month here, I can’t imagine a place that could have taught me more about trafficking (my area of interest here) as well as progressivism, paradoxes, and myself.

little girl holding up three fingers — a girl I met volunteering at Nabo Jibon

My first days in India, before I began my 9-week internship placement, I volunteered with Mother Teresa’s Missionaries of Charity. I washed street children and was attacked with baby powder in return. I spoon fed a girl as old as me who had cerebral palsy. The community of international volunteers, many of whom also stay at the Baptist Missionary Society Guesthouse with me, is a rotational family of Mexicans, Americans, Canadians, Spaniards, Russians, Italians, Koreans, Finns—all of whom have been great viewing partners for the World Cup.

two boys on a swing — Street children at Nabo Jibon

My internship itself began three days after I arrived. Durbar Mahila Samanwaya Committee is a collective of 65,000 sex-workers across West Bengal advocating for the decriminalization of prostitution. Explaining this project to locals and other international volunteers has been a demanding verbal dance.

“Are you trying to get them out of the brothels?” — No, they consider them their homes.

“Do you try to get them to do other work?” — No, they consider this their work.

“So, what does Durbar actually do?”

man accepting an award onstage — RedFM football event for Durbar’s boarding school for sex-worker children

Durbar, as I’ve learned firsthand, does quite a lot. They offer vocational programs for women leaving sex work, educational services for children of sex-workers, a self-sustained lending cooperative, two boarding homes, a cultural activity troupe, HIV/AIDS testing and prevention services, an LGBTQ community, and my arena of focus: self-regulating boards to combat trafficking.

The organization is located in Kolkata’s red-light area, known as Sonagachi, home to 11,000 of India’s 3 million or so sex-workers. The 2005 Oscar-winning documentary, Born into Brothels: Calcutta’s Red Light Kids , propelled Sonagachi’s many residents and frequenters into international focus. However, despite the film’s international acclaim, it has faced stark criticism for its unilateral treatment of prostitution as being synonymous with child endangerment and neglect. Sonagachi has a robust history of advocacy and activism through Durbar and other internationally respected community-based organizations in the region, yet such local groups were never mentioned in the film.

The Sonagachi I see is not the Sonagachi of the film. It is just too simple to decry Sonagachi’s poverty and sexual trade without addressing the roots of these conditions—roots which, like the base of a banyan tree, are twisted and deep. These roots reach to bitter wells of misogyny, caste hierarchies, patriarchal fixation, and sexual repression. Yet despite these apparently oppressive beginnings, the people here are strong. Whether transgendered, HIV-positive, sex-workers, or children of sex-workers, none of them offer an apology in their eyes or ask for pity. They stand as proud members of a committee and a community they themselves have built and envisioned.

woman posing — Retired sex worker and peer educator

The infrastructure and network that Durbar offers its members—a society of social cast-outs—is more efficient than many of Kolkata’s competing non-profits and underfunded governmental agencies. Durbar’s Self Regulatory Boards (SRBs) illustrate this well. They are unusual in the anti-trafficking community. Much as Born into Brothels depicts the children of Sonagachi as desperately in need of rescue and rehabilitation, most contemporary trafficking perspectives offer the same semi-infantilizing approach.

The DMSC refers to this as “patriarchal legislation,” which attacks trafficking through efforts like tightened border control, tougher anti-prostitution laws, and severe sentencing. However, this often diminishes the capacity for a trafficking victim to become anything other than a victim of trafficking in the government’s eye, and this reduces her ability to seek redress from exploiters and represent herself and her will.

In my conversations with the residents of Sonagachi, many women have described their trafficking experience with a nonchalance that is almost startling. For most, their trafficker was a lover or a close friend. Their experiences are very varied, but their willingness and strength in discussing these experiences is indicative of a solidarity they all share.

Durbar has offered them a voice beyond victimhood, where their retelling is not merely a rekindling of trauma but an opportunity to reflect on what civil and political society needs to know and understand about trafficking from an individual rights perspective. For example, there is the young woman pursuing a vocal music career after intervention through the SRB system. There is also the SRB board member who was both a victim of trafficking and later a willing sex worker. These women’s experiences indicate that trafficking cannot be summarily treated by blanket legislation or tightened migration laws. Rather, as Durbar proudly proclaims, “only rights can right the wrong.”

woman posing on varanda — From rescued trafficking victim to willing sex worker to peer educator

Before I left, one of my biggest questions was how to prepare for the sadness here, but so far I’ve found little. The women laugh easily; it is as common a sound here as that of bangles clinking on their arms. They joke and tease the men—doctors and client alike—in stark contrast to the down-turned glances often sported by most women outside the community. My research has put me in conversation with many survivors, some of whom have continued sex-work and some of whom chose not to. I deeply believe that Kolkata’s singular message to me has been of empowerment despite (or perhaps through) patience and paradox. The women here are unafraid to question the mental shackles of many of those trying to “rescue” them.

When I am asked what I am learning here, I struggle to put it into words. How can I begin to explain I am learning cheerfulness from trafficking survivors? Political progressivism from retired prostitutes? That the words of those targeted for rescue, for rehabilitation, have been pivotal in rescuing me from my own narrow expectations? Often all I can say is that I am learning why this is called the City of Joy.

Empowering Migrant Workers in Mexico

July 2, 2014 by lbm316

Leah Mlyn
Centro de los Derechos del Migrante
Mexico City & Oaxaca, Mexico

It’s hard to believe that I’m halfway done with my time at el Centro de los Derechos del Migrante (CDM). My position as a volunteer/intern has had its ups and downs (mostly ups), but it’s important that I briefly summarize my efforts and experiences thus far.

The office I was working at in Mexico City was a short walk from my apartment through the streets of Colonia Condesa, a neighborhood within the Cuauhtémoc district of Mexico City. It has a sophisticated, safe, Parisian vibe, distinct from other parts of the city. Cupcake shops and espresso cafés scream the globalization of “hipster” culture, but only a few steps away can usually promise a torta stand, fresh fruit juice, or La Michoacana paleteria (these mango, coconut, strawberry-vanilla popsicles are truly the best I’ve ever had).

My coworkers in that office were bright and friendly. Half are Mexican women, half American women. This was not something I was expecting, and that’s evident in my reflections prior to my placement regarding my position as an unemployed gringa in the struggle for migrant rights, labor rights, and Latina women’s rights. I feel comfortable in the office setting, though being thrown into a fully functioning organization with rituals, jargon, only 2 phone lines, Skype meetings, “flexible Fridays,” and late lunch breaks can be a little overwhelming. A few of these smart, powerful women are lawyers.

CDM does more legal work than I anticipated, though they emphasized to me during my orientation that their work is truly divided and varied, in terms of outreach, litigation, and transnational attempts at policy reform. This is what I have come to realize defines a truly successful human rights organization; human rights and labor rights violations are complex, multifaceted, stemming from a broad range of actors and power structures and must be addressed through various veins of activism, litigation, and hard work.

The problem with a 5-week internship in CDM’s Mexico City office and a 5 week internship in the same organization’s satellite office in rural Oaxaca is that it’s easy for my position to feel very temporal, unimportant, and outside-the-action. My supervisor has gone to wonderful efforts to make sure my work is engaging, appropriately time consuming, and challenging, but I can’t help but feel not wholly responsible (a bad feeling).

One of my main projects included organizing a focus group during one of CDM’s outreach trips at the end of the month in Hidalgo, Mexico, to get feedback from a group of migrant women (both with and without official work visas) with an end result of an updated and revised pamphlet that CDM distributes during their ProMuMi workshops. These workshops are the ones I was most interested in during the proposal and planning process for this summer, in which they educate women on their way to work in the US for their first or not first time about their inherent rights as workers in the US.

My project of organizing this focus group then revising the format (the lawyers will take care of the actual facts/iterations of human rights) of the pamphlet to increase accessibility and usability would not be possible without the involvement of the members of CDM’s comité, a group of migrant workers currently living in different states throughout Mexico who act as community liaisons between the organization and the mass of migrant workers in their home communities. These members are dedicated to increasing access to rights and resources for members of their community through partnership and collaboration with CDM, especially with helping organize location, date, times, and spreading knowledge about the know-your-rights workshops CDM does throughout Mexico about monthly, and for things like these focus groups which I am organizing.

My lack of legal knowledge, lack of graphic design skill, and lack of fluency in Spanish are the central barriers to me taking on the complete project of updating and revising the ProMuMi pamphlet. Even the phone calls in Spanish to the members of comité to figure out the best days, locations, and evaluate community interest in the focus group is extremely difficult for me, because though I imagined my decade-worth of Spanish classes would allow the nuances and fluency of the language to come rushing to me the moment I surrounded myself with Spanish speakers (the whole office functions almost entirely in Spanish), such was not the case.

Each day my brain feels tired and sore from the constant language navigation to which I am dedicated. It feels good to have such a prolific challenge, and I know that my comprehension, writing skills, and communication skills have improved even in these first ~3 weeks here. I take each opportunity to explain myself, talk on the phone, ask for directions, order off a menu, write an email, or listen to a meeting or conversation as a learning opportunity. And I’m being patient with myself.

Other projects I’ve worked on include side projects that support other members of the office. I created a fact sheet about the New American offices in many US states; these offices offer free or cheap services to “new Americans,” like English classes, legal support, connections with community organizers and organizations, and are often run by city or county political office holders in conjunction with other state-wide immigrant-accepting initiatives. I researched grant-givers and foundations, locating similar organizations to CDM that have received significant grants or funding, and worked closely with CDM’s development director to brainstorm ways to get more money to the organization. I did office “bitch work” (it’s important too!) like mailing letters to clients about the status of their class action case. I created a document with a list of tweets to be sent out at later dates about ProMuMi, working on PR for the project and creating new hashtags and spread of information for both migrant women and their allies.

I made calls to the last-known numbers for some clients of one of CDM’s class action cases with whom lawyers at CDM needed to contact regarding the status of their compensation checks (these were clients who CDM had not been able to reach in a while). If their numbers were out of service, I was told to “get creative” and call pharmacies or tiendas in the client’s town and ask the owner if they knew our client and if they could put up a sign with their name and the number of our agency.

One project I took on with the help of an NYU law school graduate was of special interest to me, though it’s quite honestly a bit boring, mind-numbing, and overwhelming. I learned that CDM receives a plethora of calls from migrant workers with cases that our legal services can simply not take on or represent, including legal issues surrounding immigration status, workers compensation, wage & hour laws, and tax cases.

In these cases, CDM works hard to refer the migrant in need to a legal service in the states equipped with a Spanish-speaking attorney, resources to serve clients across the border, and cheap or free legal representation. The NYU law graduate oriented me to the problem, and let me know that CDM does not currently have a comprehensive referral guide to make these referrals to specific lawyers or agencies easy or timely. For about 25 of the top migrant receiving states, she wanted a list of numbers and contact information about state bar referral agencies and legal aid services.

From these numbers, I was to gather more specific sets of resources, including names and contact information for specific Spanish-speaking attorneys that could take on these types of cases. I got a Skype unlimited worldwide calling account, started an Excel spreadsheet, and made numerous calls to referral lines and different attorney offices. My partner on this project even suggested I write an advocacy piece on how hard it can be for certain foreign/temporary workers with certain types of visas (for example, non-forestry H-2B visas) or without visas to receive legal aid from LSC-funded services or organizations, because since 1996 the LSC placed very strict limits on the types of people or cases Legal Services Corporation-funded lawyers could represent.

The most interactive project I was assigned thus far was to help one of CDM’s lawyers organize details for a deposition for one of our clients that lives in a village close to Puebla. I was to find a room in a hotel or university in Puebla, a beautiful, church-filled town about 2 hours outside of Mexico City (DF), with high-speed internet access that we could use or rent for 4 hours one afternoon to complete a deposition with our client and her lawyers in the US. After the room was booked, I was invited to accompany one member of CDM to Puebla for the day via bus, and help support the process of the deposition.

We left from a metro station I had never been to before at 8AM on Thursday morning and returned to DF at 8PM that night after a long day of wonderful interactions with a lovely migrant worker woman who we met up with at the bus station, a successful deposition, exploration of a beautiful university campus, and even poking around the center of Puebla – visiting the church from 1644, sitting in the green central park, and tasting mole poblano enchiladas with chocolate-flavored curry-like mole for which Puebla is famous. It was a beautiful day, and it was an honor to help CDM in this way.

Every day I have calls to make and tweets to write, but my work is low-pressure. I’m not going into communities as much as I thought or hoped I would, but this is because the focus of the DF CDM office is not outreach.

As I write this now, I sit in CDM’s office in Santiago Juxtlahuaca, Oaxaca. I arrived here yesterday morning after a 10-hour overnight bus ride from Mexico City. The town, founded in the early 1500s, is primarily composed of poor, migrating indigenous Oaxacans. Over 2/3 of the people speak Mixtec, and many of those people do not speak Spanish. I met two men yesterday during my breakfast of memlitas (beans inside tortillas folded into triangles – complete of course with cream and cheese and salsa) in the mercado who had traveled to the US (Washington state) to work, and who proclaimed that my Spanish was better than theirs.

The town is the complete opposite of Mexico City; I can walk around the perimeter in 25 minutes flat. Everything is inexpensive, including my shabby (and not chic) hotel room for $100 a month. But everything is beautiful, tasty, and friendly. My tasks within the office will remain mostly the same here, and Adelina, the only other person who works in the satellite office, and I will be responsible for two outreach trips in the state of Oaxaca before my time with CDM ends in August.

I hope my fellow fellows are doing great things all across the world, and adjusting well to our perplexing, challenging positions of outsiders.

Back to Malawi: Research on Ufulu Wamwana & CBOs

July 1, 2014 by bmt246

Bailey Theado
Goods for good
Lilongwe, Malawi

It has now been over three weeks since I threw my duffle bag onto the conveyor belt, hugged my mom at JFK, and spent about 19 hours traveling first to Johannesburg, South Africa, and then to Lilongwe, Malawi. Before I was able to deboard the plane and touch my feet back on Malawian soil, the entire plane became suddenly confused as we were forced to wait on the stairs in front of a sprawling red carpet.

The carpet was lined with men in military garb that reminded me of revolutionary red coats. At the end of the red carpet was a black Mercedes and photographers swarming a man who had been in business class on our flight. Just the day before, Peter Mutharika was sworn in as the new prime minister of Malawi and after asking my colleagues at the goods for good office, they noted that many African dignitaries were flying in to congratulate him. Waiting on the stairs in my jetlagged state, ready to sleep horizontally, I was quickly challenging my perceptions of what my summer might hold.

I had come to Malawi five years ago with goods for good to do a summer English grammar tutorial for students in standard 8 (American eighth grade equivalent). I was living in a town called Chesi that was the center of more than 20 other villages and host to a large market each week. In the weeks leading up to this trip, I remembered what my village was like, riding in mattolas (pickup trucks), filtering all of my water, walking to watch local soccer matches in the afternoons, and getting used to being called “Ms. B” by my students. When packing I knew I would be staying in a village for some time and during my trip to REI to get some supplies, I was reminded of the perceptions of “Africa” as a country as the sales attendant loaded up my basket as if I were going to be on a new season of Survivor.

As I stood on the steps staring in my tired state at the Mercedes and the VIP procession, I thought about how this summer will not just be a rural experience, but a time to engage with impact of the fast economic and political developments in Malawi. Coming back after five years, I can say that Malawi, particularly Lilongwe the capital, has changed a lot – my first observation was that a huge shopping complex had been built where I remembered an empty dirt plot in the center of town. There is a new four star hotel, a massive parliamentary building, a new football stadium rising, and a sports bar that shows every World Cup game on over 25 TVs.

Thinking about some conversations I had before leaving, I wanted to go back in time and tell them that yes, I was traveling to the African continent, but not the skewed assumptions of what “Africa” is like.
I applied for the Gallatin Human Rights Fellowship to Malawi for many reasons, but the two biggest reasons were because of my previous experience as a tutorial teacher, watching my class attendance fluctuate and learning more about the lives of each of my students; I became invested and interested in learning more about the rights of the child, which in Chichewa is “ufulu wamwana.” In future blog posts, I can talk more about my specific research here in Malawi, but my interests in the rights of the child were coupled by my experience working with and visiting Community-Based Organizations (CBOs).

I distinctly remember visiting one CBO and as I was speaking with the director, I asked about a huge map behind his desk. He showed me how he had mapped out the entire community and what were each household’s needs; he even knew how many women were breastfeeding. The CBOs I had interacted with were formed in the early stages of the HIV/AIDs crisis. Communities became burdened with new dependents with no means to exercise their right to life or provide an adequate standard of living, housing, or food. In cooperation with the Malawian state, communities created certification of the “Community-Based Organization” (CBO) under the Ministry of Gender, Children and Community Development (MGCC) to manage orphan care and advocate for the children’s rights.

Coming back to Malawi, I am here to ask what role CBOs play daily in advocating and protecting the rights of children in their communities and how they conceptualize and understand the rights of the child. The organization I am working with, goods for good, works to promote and protect orphaned and vulnerable children by strengthening the capacities of CBOs and is looking to more fully understand how CBOs engage in child protection and with child rights in order for goods for good to better target their programs.

Prior to traveling, I was looking forward to applying the ethnographic research skills I had learned and engaging with real civil society organizations after studying them theoretically in an independent study. goods for good has an office in New York that I had previously interned with, and the team in New York and Lilongwe helped me with many things, from finding a place to stay to visa confusion to preparing for my research.

My initial weeks here were spent preparing for my interviews and research, from working with another intern here at the office, Watanja, to help with translation, to figuring out which CBOs would be interested and open to being interviewed. After my first full week and after speaking with the leader of Bright Vision, it was settled that I would be working with Bright Vision.

This CBO is located approximately 25km south of Lilongwe in an area called Ngala, which means “mouth” because there is a giant rock mountain with a cave that looks like a mouth. Beneath Ngala mountain are the Bright Vision center buildings, but the CBO has smaller branches in the area. In my next post, I’ll be able to share the process of getting approval for my research within the CBO from the local chiefs to the head of all chiefs for Chadza district. Currently, in addition to my weekly interviews I am preparing for my interview and meeting on July 11 with the head of the large Traditional Authority that Bright Vision is located within and a meeting with all of the CBOs that are located within the local district.

Today, I completed five interviews and I’ve realized that on the trip to Bright Vision, I am a bit nervous each time, realizing that I will probably always have more questions and hoping I can make my questions clear. Except when I am done at the end of the day, the energy of the CBO volunteers and our conversations breathe new energy into me and make me wish I could already extend my time here to talk to more people.

More to come! Zikomo! (“thank you” in Chichewa)

Life In Sydney

June 30, 2014 by hih216

Horatia Hopper
New South Wales Council for Civil Liberties
Sydney, Australia

What a whirlwind! I have now been in Sydney for five weeks and the time really is flying by. I’m sure I’ll be wondering where all the time went when I head back to America in August.

I grew up in Sydney and left when I was 12, having been back only twice in ten years. I was raised by my parents with an understanding of Australian culture and with an Australian identity; however, it was inevitable that I picked up parts of American culture during my time there. Because of this, I found myself wondering if I would fit in with the lifestyle that I was entering, wondering if I would be considered an outsider in a place I thought of as home, wondering if I would find myself feeling like an outsider. I found this quite funny, as time and time again in our fellowship seminar, we discussed the politics of being an outsider but doing work within a community, and here I was already feeling the worries of a position that I had yet to fully even occupy.

Regardless of status as outsider, insider, tourist, or local, there is no doubt that Sydney is a beautiful city. I live in Bondi Beach—from my backyard I can hear the ocean and if I walk two minutes up the road I can see the vast expanse of one of the most beautiful beaches I have seen yet. I grew up and went to this beach as a child and it is strange to look upon these same waters as an adult; however, even though years have passed, the beach is just as amazing. The people are friendly and the culture is extremely relaxed, nothing like the bustling city of New York where everything and everyone is on the move. Here there is a sense that you can take your time and enjoy the view.

My work was originally going to be located at the New South Wales Council for Civil Liberty’s head office in Sydney’s Central Business District (CBD), however, the location changed last-minute to the president’s private legal offices in a different area of town. It takes a bit of a while to get there each day (about an hour and fifteen minutes each way) but it has allowed me to see parts of Sydney I haven’t seen before. My time has been highly productive and extremely interesting, teaching me a lot about human rights work and allowing me to take a step back and really examine the way human rights work actually takes place in the day-to-day lives of those who do this work. I’ve been excited about this as it was a key part of my focus for the fellowship—that is, asking the questions of who implements human rights? How does this work happen? Who does this work and why? And finally, what are the politics behind advocacy? My time here has certainly answered these questions, perhaps not in full but definitely in part.

My work so far has consisted of a lot of research, which has been very beneficial to me, particularly because I am not as intimately acquainted with Australian politics as someone who has lived here all their lives, particularly someone from New South Wales. My work at the organization is slightly different than what I expected; however, I am learning a lot and I am understanding more about human rights work in Australia. Last week I attended the committee meeting of the organization and it was extremely interesting to see the make-up of the committee members and to hear about the various ideas/issues discussed, as well as to see the ways in which the logistics of an organization like this take place. A lot of the work of the organization is through a legal channel and this has lead me to learn a lot about the legal system of Australia, particularly about the politicians and their interaction with society. I am currently working on a project to document the increase of police power implemented with amendments to the Law Enforcement (Powers and Responsibilities) Act. My next task is tracking the case of an Australian citizen sentenced to death in Vietnam for drug trafficking. The variation within my work has allowed me to look at rights through a multitude of lenses.

Something that has caught my attention often is Australian politics in the media. A noticeable difference between Australian and American politics is the presence that Australian politicians have in the media and the direct interaction they have in participating in news stories and debates. Toby Abbott, the current Prime Minister of Australia, appears on news programs and interacts with people who call in or appear on the program and I often take note of this, as this seems less prevalent in the United States. Another funny aspect of this political arena is that there really is no limit to what is said here; the things called out by the media and stories that are aired probably wouldn’t be shown in the US and I appreciate the (somewhat) honesty of this, as it is refreshing to have this no-frills attitude.

Next week I am attending a talk about the freedom of speech. This should be extremely interesting and should provoke an interesting discussion with the panel members who are leaders within the human rights field in Australia.

There are other international interns at the office and it has been great to talk to them and exchange experiences about previous internships and collaborate on tasks for the organization. I love interacting with them and talking to them about various issues. We have an office lunch every Friday and we have gotten to know each other quite well!

So far, so good! Sydney has surprised me and intrigued me, and my work here continues to enlighten me. There is the possibility that I may be able to visit one of the detention centers for asylum seekers and refugees here in Australia. Fingers crossed that this happens, for I would love to have an opportunity to actually see the centers firsthand. I know this would be an extremely humbling experience were it to take place.

My Summer at Zhicheng

June 19, 2014 by al3511

Angie Liao
Zhicheng Public Interest Lawyers
Beijing, China

I’m really excited to start blogging about my experience in Beijing this summer. To introduce my fellowship project for what feels like the 500th time, this summer I’m working at a public interest law firm in Beijing, China. The law firm, Zhicheng Public Interest Lawyers, is an umbrella organization with pro bono branches dealing in migrant workers’ law, women’s rights law, children’s welfare/children’s legal aid, criminal legal aid, and social development law.

I have two research projects to juggle this summer. One is within the children’s legal aid department of Zhicheng, where I have commenced the hefty task of researching child welfare and children’s legal aid policy in 12 different countries. My research notes will be compiled into a gigantic research brief for the law firm’s director, Tong Lihua, who advises several Beijing children’s rights committees and is in an opportune position to make policy recommendations to the Chinese government based on the research of his lawyers.

I have to say, at several other internship positions I’ve struggled with the frustrating feeling that my work was jettisoning off into a void of unused oblivion, but this is not one of those cases. I’m very excited about this research project and really enjoying the work, particularly because it’s teaching me a lot about juvenile justice and attitudes towards legal aid all over the world. A lot of countries, like the United States, have declared it a constitutional right to receive legal representation in criminal defense cases, but it turns out that these policies have a lot of loopholes and still leave open a lot of questions. Should civil legal representation also be a constitutional right? What happens when public defenders’ case loads are simply too full to represent anyone else in need? What about special standards for the prosecution and defense of juvenile offenders? And so on.

In my spare time I also created an English-language website for Zhicheng! I’ve gotten some very kind feedback about it, and I think it’s important that Zhicheng makes its resources and news about its projects and lawyers as accessible as possible.

I’m also pursuing an independent research project outside Zhicheng with an attorney supervisor, but it’s likely I won’t write much about it until the end of the summer, when I can give a more well-rounded report!

In terms of general life, I’m loving my experience so far. The Zhicheng lawyers are wonderful, kind, generous people, and I’ve already made really great friends with the other interns. This weekend, thirteen more interns will be arriving at Zhicheng, all from the University of Sydney – really exciting for me, as I think I developed a mild obsession with Australia last semester.

So far I haven’t had time to explore Beijing except on weekends, but the excursions I have been on were all wonderful. (I recognize that my list of adjectives for describing this project is limited). My first weekend here, I went to Houhai with another intern, James, and our supervisor. James and I were supposed to go on a trip that weekend to Yanqing, which I hear is very beautiful, but our transportation was cancelled due to rain! I was really upset about that but it turned out to be a blessing in disguise. When we decided to go to Houhai instead, the sky was still gray and rainy, but by the time we got there, the clouds had opened up to show a beautiful blue sky (rare in Beijing) that we were able to enjoy, followed by an incredible sunset. We even got to see a rainbow! So I guess the trip cancellation was really a blessing in the skies! Heh, heh, get it?! Sorry, I don’t get too much sleep these days.

Houhai is flanked by two man-made lake-ish bodies of water. We managed to cram a lot into a stay of a few hours – we ate a delicious hot pot dinner, walked the promenade, took a pedal boat out into the water for an hour and a half, and listened to some sweet jazz from a retired man who was playing by the water. Here are some pictures from Houhai:

the author with two colleagues by water — James, our supervisor Qi Xiaomeng, and me

Beautiful, right?! I definitely want to go back soon.

Last weekend, on Friday we went swimming and afterwards to a famous fish head restaurant in the Fengtai District. Amazing. On Saturday, I visited Sanlitun with one of my friends from high school, who also happens to be in Beijing until the end of the month. He speaks way better Chinese than me, so it was nice to let him navigate. We walked around and I got to soak in the Sanlitun vibe (which is really interesting), and then had dinner at a Mexican restaurant! Sanlitun is in the Chaoyang District of Beijing, where most of the embassies are located. Consequently, there’s a lot more access to foreign conveniences like imported foods and international restaurants than in other parts of Beijing. It was like a little piece of home!

This weekend we’re planning on going swimming again, and hopefully at some point I’ll be able to go to the cinema to see Godzilla. I’ve wanted to see that movie so badly since it came out, but never had the opportunity before I left the States. So far I’ve found two other people willing to go with me: James, a lawyer at Zhicheng, and Guoke, my flatmate. Keep your fingers crossed for me because, seriously, you don’t know much I have wanted to see Godzilla.

It’s almost lunchtime and one of our lawyers who is attending a conference in South Africa this week just dropped off more work on my desk so I’d better go. Before I do, a little humor: we recently got a Nespresso coffee machine in the office (if you don’t know about Nespresso, it comes with a bunch of different flavored coffee bullets with really elaborate Italian names that no one can figure out). So no one knew what flavor of coffee they were getting until James wrote out descriptions of the coffee flavors for the office. I found them extremely humorous so wanted to share! My favorite is the description for Fortissio Lungo.

OH ANOTHER THING, which is also humorous: Did you know that Nespresso has exclusive “clubs”? Like, they’re Nespresso store-type venues, but only MEMBERS of the club can enter the store or order coffee. There’s one in Sanlitun. I just don’t understand.

photo of menu — (sorry this one is kind of shaky, I was still laughing)

Okay, I have to go. Look forward to more titillating blog posts in the future!