Mount Qiloane, symbol of the Basotho. (Photo: mjj)

MASERU, Lesotho – At the U.S. destination of “Four Corners” – where the states of Arizona, Colorado, New Mexico and Utah converge – flexible tourists bend over to be photographed with a limb in all four.

Today, I try a global Four Corners: as an American foreign correspondent, journalism teacher-trainer, and freelancing father of three striving for a simultaneous presence in southern Africa, Far East Asia, Central Europe and North America.

This blog, which I’d dubbed From East to East — as I oscillated between my home in post-Communist Eastern Europe and work in China — now swerves south into sub-Saharan Africa, to document a journalistic journey that includes writing from our new home in the “Mountain Kingdom” of Lesotho, teaching in Hong Kong and training in Prague.

Spliced in are my articles and photos for Foreign Policy, Christian Science Monitor, Harvard’s Nieman Reports, The Mantle and many others listed to the right. Thank you for reading! … mjj

Mridu Khullar Relph (Courtesy MKR)

Q&A With Michael J. Jordan, International Journalist

No, not THAT Michael Jordan. Although when it comes to his craft, he’s just as good.

I first “met” Michael online through a friend and was immediately struck by how open he was with his contacts, how helpful and encouraging. Michael and I became part of a small freelancers group that shared tips, editor names, and advice with each other, and when I interviewed Michael for my mailing list, I got such an amazing response, that I knew I had to share it with more readers.

His official bio: Michael J. Jordan is an American freelance foreign correspondent and journalism teacher-trainer now based in Lesotho. Beyond southern Africa, he also maintains a toehold in Asia and Europe, as a Visiting Scholar at Hong Kong Baptist University and as Senior Journalism Trainer for Transitions Online in Prague. He has previously been stationed in Hungary, Slovakia and at the United Nations, as a correspondent for the Christian Science Monitor and many others.

Q. Can you tell me a little bit about yourself and the work that you do?

I’m an American foreign correspondent, journalism teacher-trainer, and freelancing father of three young children. Since November, I’ve lived in tiny Lesotho, in southern Africa, for my wife’s job in international development. I’ve been a freelance foreign correspondent since 1994, when I was based in Budapest, Hungary, and went on to report from nearly 25 post-Communist countries in Eastern Europe and former Soviet Union. Over the past decade, I’ve also branched into teaching, having now taught journalism on faculty in New York, Slovakia, Czech Republic and Hong Kong – where I’ll soon serve my fourth stint as Visiting Scholar at Hong Kong Baptist University. Meanwhile, in Prague I’m the senior journalism trainer for the TOL Foreign Correspondence Training Course, where I’ve led the reporting project since 2007.

Q. You’ve had long-standing relationships with publications like the Christian Science Monitor and Global Post for years. How do you build these relationships and how can freelancers get such regular clients?

Freelancing boils down to a simple formula: a compelling, salable story idea, plus the ability to deliver what you promise, equals freelancing success. Of course, the formula only seems simple. Plenty of journalists out there generate wonderful ideas, but fail to deliver the goods. There are also plenty of journalists ready to do whatever it takes to get the job done – but can’t seem to hook editors with their ideas. However, if you can do both – reliably and consistently – then editors will look very kindly upon you. And in all likelihood, they’ll welcome your next round of pitches and green-light another assignment. (If they have the budget.) This is how a relationship is born and cultivated.

Q. How do you get assignments? Do you query, send letters of introduction, or meet the editors you want to work with?

Definitely through a query, in which I “pitch” concrete story ideas. But that’s for the clients and editors for whom I’ve already written articles. If it’s a prospective new client, then I make it a combination of introduction and specific story ideas. If you only send a friendly “I’m here and ready to write for you” sort of introduction, that could be empty blather and a wasting of their time. Who cares if you’ve done this or that in the past, if right now you can’t produce compelling story ideas – and then deliver the goods? Proof is in the pudding. An important reporting principle is to “show, don’t tell” the audience with facts and anecdotes. Well, the same holds true when trying to impress an editor: don’t just tell them you can produce compelling story ideas from your country or new home-base – show them with a specific pitch or two or three.

By the way, as a freelancer who’s spent most of the past 18 years abroad, I’ve never met many of my editors. Which is normal, I think. Email communication is enough, though voice-to-voice phone or Skype calls may help break the ice, or further warm a relationship. When visiting stateside, I’ve occasionally dropped in on some editors in New York or Boston, to greet them face-to-face and chat about the state of our relationship: in which direction I, or they, would like to see it go from here. But I think editors themselves are now used to never meeting some of their freelancers in the field.

Q. What are your top tips for writers and journalists based outside of the US who want to write for US-based publications?

Whether you’re an American freelancer living outside the U.S., or a non-American, non-native English-speaker also trying to break into the U.S. market, you’re an entrepreneur of sorts, flying solo. So start to think like one. That means you need to research the marketplace and learn about the potential clientele. Which outlets, publishing about global topics, would even accept submissions from freelancers? Which have the budget for it? Do they already have a regular contributor on your topic, or from your part of the world? Which are interested in the topics that interest you? Which have published – and would continue to publish – on topics from your region? And so on.

This means reading up on these clients: peruse their “Submissions” section (if they even have one), search their archives for anything close to your topic, as well as any articles they’ve published from your corner of the globe. When was the last time they published from there, if ever? Or, how often from there? In what writing style? First-person or third-person? As reportage, travelogue, essay or commentary?

Q. You’ve taught journalism to students from over 30 countries. What are the most common mistakes international freelancers make?

Two stand out. First, failing to keep in mind your audience, whether it be American, Western, international, or anything else. When it comes to international reporting, it’s essential to remember that you’re not writing for yourself, for a “Dear Diary” journal you stash under your pillow. No, I always assume that I’m writing for a smart, curious audience – after all, who else would be interested to read about the rise of the far-right in Hungary, or the mounting pressure on social media in censorious China, or how an HIV-afflicted country like Lesotho copes with the epidemic? So my task is to enable my smart, curious audience back home to grasp a fascinating situation in this far-away land from which I’m reporting. How to give them a reason to read, a reason to care?

The second thing I’ll mention, then, is how to bridge the gap between situation and audience? This is why it’s so crucial to always “humanize” a situation, bringing it to life with real stories of real people with real voices, directly affected by this situation. Not just with rich anecdotes but deep, meaningful quotes. Then, “broaden and deepen” the story to better inform and educate the audience: regional context that explains whether this situation is unique to this country, or part of a region-wide trend. And historical background to show this situation didn’t happen overnight, but evolved.

Q. For someone just getting started, what are the first, second, and third things they need to do to start getting assignments?

By “getting started,” if you mean someone who wants to survive exclusively off their freelancing, I’d suggest a few things. First, arm yourself with two marketable skills, not just one. Back in my day … Not to sound too much like a dinosaur, but when I started in journalism two decades ago, reporters reported, photographers photographed, videographers videographed, editors edited, and so on. We specialized – and the industry held respect and appreciation for the skills involved with each specialty.

Today, as you know, the frenzy for all-things-multimedia means many journalists thirst to be a jack-of-all-trades. More worrying, though, many clients now demand it. Quality suffers, inevitably. How rare is it to find, say, a talented writer and photographer? Very rare. The lowered standards are obvious, with all the uninspired snapshots and shaky footage some media outlets post online.

Nevertheless, that’s the new reality. So even if you’re a sharp reporter with a literary flair, don’t rest on your laurels. I’d urge you to take a hands-on course in photography or documentary filmmaking, to broaden your skill-set. If you’re out in some exotic corner of the globe, seeing interesting things, meeting interesting people, why wouldn’t you offer editors a story package both written and visual? You’d be short-sighted not to.

The second point: where to plant a flag as your new base of operations? Before you lunge for your dream city – London … Paris … Beijing! – think strategically. Choose someplace affordable. Breaking into foreign correspondence is hard enough without the stress of feeding yourself. Are you ready to subsist off ketchup packets, ramen noodles, tinned meat or baguettes?

Yet cost of living is only one factor. The shrewd move is to strike a balance between a country that’s “hot” versus one too far off-the-beaten path. Meaning, if your heart is set on a state that also happens to be of vital importance to your home audience, or is embroiled in some sort of conflict or crisis, well, let’s just say that you wouldn’t be the only moth drawn to that fire. For example, let’s say you’ve long been fascinated by the Arab-Israeli conflict and want to move to Jerusalem. Do you realize Israel is said to host the highest per-capita number of foreign correspondents in the world?

Competition can be fierce. So why would you, a novice, go head-to-head with that? On the other hand, don’t settle in some spot too remote. You may find it too tough to sell reportage from a place too few people have heard of, let alone care about. When you move to a country, don’t think you’re there to only cover that country. Turn the entire region into your “beat.” Follow developments in each country, connect the dots, draw parallels. Then make the case for why editors should agree to publish a story from you.

Lastly, whether you’re looking for freelance full-time or part-time, from your home-country or abroad, create your own blog. Post everything journalistic you produce on there, from text to photos to video clips. The blog is not just a modern-day CV, but a space in the ether to establish your credibility, to hang your shingle, to announce you’re open for business, where clients and others can find you. I’ve evolved from blog-skeptic to true believer, for it’s the most effective marketing tool a freelance journalist can muster. Quite simply, your site enables you to show, not tell editors who you are, what you do, what your capabilities are – far more convincingly than any sheet of paper that lists your experiences, achievements and references.

Q. With so many people, including former full-time correspondents, now becoming freelancers, how can we set ourselves apart from the crowd?

The easy answer is: Be good at what you do. The better response is: Be different. Carve yourself a niche or two or three in the market. Study what major news organizations and wire services cover – and how. Identify the gaps. Then strive to fill those gaps.

For example, during and after 9/11 I lived in New York and covered the United Nations as a freelancer. During the run-up to the Iraq invasion, the effectiveness of past UN anti-Iraq resolutions came under scrutiny. So I wrote a slew of historical “backgrounders” and “explainers” for U.S. papers to show why those resolutions proved ineffective.

In October 2010, Hungary grabbed international headlines when a Communist-era reservoir of aluminum-production “red sludge” collapsed, causing post-Communist Eastern Europe’s worse ecological disaster. I marked my calendar, and in October 2011 followed up with one-year-later features for Foreign Policy and the CSMonitor.

In early 2011, while living in Slovakia, I watched the Arab Spring unfold in North Africa – and wondered how to contribute to the coverage, short of parachuting in there myself … along with thousands of other Western media. Instead, I reported for Foreign Policy from Slovakia, explaining what Egyptian and Tunisian revolutionaries could learn from Eastern Europe’s anti-Communist revolutions two decades earlier.

In each of these examples, there was no real demand from editors for such coverage. Yet I convinced my editors of the value-added of my contribution. You can, too.

Q. What is the future for international journalism? What options should journalists now be looking at to further their careers?

Despite gloomy forecasts about the “death” of international journalism, I agree with longtime overseas chroniclers like Timothy Garton Ash: we’ll always need credible foreign correspondents for the “witnessing, deciphering and interpreting” (http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2010/dec/08/long-live-the-foreign-correspondent) of events and trends in faraway lands.

However, it’s another question as to whether the current or the next crop of young international freelance journalists can live exclusively off of their reporting and writing – or if they’ll be paid anything at all for such contributions.

It depends on many factors, like: the demand for news, features or commentary from your corner of the globe (though reporting from hot-spots again means you have more competitors); how affordable the cost of living is in your region; how deep the pockets are of your clientele; your own level of energy and ambition; the sort of topics you specialize in (for example, writing about business and investment may be more lucrative than writing about labor and environment); your willingness to compromise and report on topics, or for certain clients, that do not excite you – but pay well – in order to subsidize the reporting that does inspire you; and so on.

Since freelancing itself is rarely lucrative, I suspect that many who want to live and report from abroad may need to compromise on if they can do it full-time. This may mean balancing it with a part-time, even a full-time, job doing something else, like teaching, editing or PR, or writing for a company or NGO. That sort of thing. In fact, now that I’m in Lesotho and living in the developing world for the first time, I see how frantic international non-for-profit organizations are to produce human-interest “success stories” that show sponsors and other supporters how effectively they spend donor-dollars. In some cases, the organization is ready to pay someone to do it – or teach them how to do it themselves. Describing a situation over here, to make it accessible for an audience over there goes to the heart of what we foreign correspondents do.

Q. What kind of work do you most enjoy doing? What’s next for you?

More than two decades later, I still enjoy the thrill of producing my own journalism – though I’m now shifting toward longer-form writing, with a couple book projects. (One on China, the other on Lesotho.) That said, I’m surprised to see how much I enjoy teaching young journalists and student-journalists. Especially here in Lesotho.

When I taught university journalism for two years in Slovakia and the Czech Republic, which were already 20 years into the post-Communist transformation from dictatorship to democracy, my aim was to teach young Slovaks and Czechs the need for watchdog journalism – and how to hold their leaders accountable for their words and deeds.

In Hong Kong, where I’ll soon return for a fourth stint, I teach mostly mainland Chinese graduate students. China is one of the most heavily censored countries in the world, but it’s also the emerging global superpower. In my own modest way, the type of journalism they learn to produce just may shape the kind of superpower that China becomes.

Then there’s Lesotho, which suffers the world’s third-highest rate of HIV infection – a staggering 23 percent – and 40 percent of its children are malnourished. Yet no real nuts-and-bolts journalism education exists in the country. So focusing in on “health journalism” feels like a matter of life and death. Teaching ethnic-Basotho journalists how to report health issues in a more serious, responsible way may not only improve public health, but even save a life. So, yes, I’m enjoying that work.

Q. Anything else you’d like to add that I’ve missed?

Despite all the challenges I’ve noted above, nothing should discourage the hardier of your readers to at least try to freelance – especially to try it from foreign lands. Sure, this career path has turned my hair prematurely grey, but I haven’t regretted any of it.

**

Visit Michael’s website at http://jordanink.wordpress.com.

Nagymező utca, the “Broadway of Budapest”: one of countless spots to soak in atmosphere. (Photo: mjj)

[The following piece appeared Sept. 7, 2012, on The Mantle.]

BUDAPEST, Hungary – I’d fallen out of love. This summer, I wanted so badly for that passion to reignite. No, I’m not referring to my marriage, but to the grand old city of Budapest.

Eight weeks later, I’m delighted to report: the embers still smolder. The elegant architecture. The vibrant café culture. The festive night life. Feels like 1997 again!

Budapest is in my blood. I’m a Hungarian-American who launched a career here as a freelance foreign correspondent, back in 1994. I enjoyed the best years of my youth in the city, from age 24 to 30. My father was born here. My wife, too. My three kids spend large doses of time here – and speak the tricky language as well as natives.

Yet the politics of the place have often mortified me, during the two decades of transition from cruel Communist dictatorship to rapacious capitalist democracy. As the atmosphere descended into one of the most noxious in all of Europe, with hatred and depression sucking up oxygen, the capital, too, grew uglier: graffiti scarred the urban landscape; so many shops, boarded and abandoned; pee-stained alcoholics crashed out on benches along once-regal, Habsburgian boulevards.

We now live in Lesotho, in the hardscrabble mountains of southern Africa. In the tiny capital, Maseru, the three or four cafes, three or four restaurants, just don’t compare to Central Europe. As a frigid winter approached, I flew my kids – more an evacuation, really – up to the summer steaminess of Hungary. They’ve spent weeks reconnecting with their grandparents along the family-friendly, fried-fish-peddling shores of Lake Balaton.

Meanwhile, I’ve flown solo in Budapest much of the time, with the luxury – during hot days and breezy nights – to mill about the old stomping grounds of my free and footloose years of early adulthood.

My conclusion: both city authorities and denizens show signs of resilience.

Most striking for me, they scrubbed most of the spray-painted vandalism that has enraged and saddened me. I always saw it as a cry for attention from an increasingly thuggish younger generation that ranks as one of the prime “losers” of this economic transformation. The few jobs available promise a lifetime of financial hardship, surviving paycheck to paycheck, fretting about short- and long-term job security.

No wonder nostalgia for the past is on the rise: as long as you kept your head down and mouth shut, the Party guaranteed you the same minimal standard of living as everyone else – albeit punctuated by occasional deprivation – plus a dreary job the rest of your life. One drawback, though, was paranoia of a colleague spying on you.

While soaking in the atmosphere, a wayward elbow devastated my espresso. (Photo: mjj)

Then, democracy in 1989 ushered in the freedom of speech – and freedom to spray-paint. Hardly a single building was unmolested. None that I saw was “artistic.” Primitive tagging, as if a vindictive, disillusioned youth, eyeing a future of despair, flipped a collective bird at society – and at modern Hungary today.

This summer, though, to see so little of that urban blight left enabled me to once again enjoy Budapest’s antique architecture and eye-candy of daily pedestrian life. Sure, the alcoholic and homeless seem to have proliferated. But at least I unleashed no more graffiti-related rants, for which my blood pressure is most grateful.

Then there are the slew of new pedestrian walkways and cafés. Kavéhaz kultura is always something I’ve adored about Budapest – and “Mitteleuropa” itself. I’ve now stumbled upon close to ten zones in Budapest that were once narrow streets packed with traffic – overflowing with parked cars and smears of dog crap – and but are now paved over and dotted with outdoor restaurants, cafés, pubs and benches.

Two weeks ago, I met a visiting Dutch friend – who likewise lived here in the late 1990s – at one such watering hole in front of the majestic law school, Eotvos Lorand Egyetem. With columns aglow, it was an ideal setting to catch up with my pal, and grow toasty from a few drinks. Dozens of others likewise schmoozed the night away.

A couple friends nurse drinks among the ruins of a funky open-air Budapest romkocsma. (Photo: mjj)

Then there’s the emerging phenomenon of the romkocsma: literally, “pub in ruins,” but actually new eateries and hangouts built beside the unrestored ruins of a 19^th-century building, left exposed for customers to revel in its noble dilapidation. In some cases, these joints have replaced a parking lot, so what better way to beautify an eyesore?

Sure, much of the clientele socializing in the romkocsma and pedestrian zones are tourists. But many Hungarians, too: young and old; elites who sweat no cost; a middle class that must pace itself; lower classes who splurge once in a while, likely spending beyond their means. Regardless, they resist the relentless negativity – where emigration out is a popular topic – to make the most of a bleak situation.

All of which fosters a more pleasant urban experience – and fans warmer sentiment for a city to which I’ll forever be linked. Budapest, I’m getting that old feeling again …

Graduates of the July 2012 Foreign Correspondent course decompress afterward. Seated center is TOL Director Jeremy Druker. (Photo: mjj)

PRAGUE, Czech Republic – Foreign correspondence is dead. Long live foreign correspondence!

So wrote the British journalist-scholar Timothy Garton Ash not long ago. I couldn’t agree more, as a freelance foreign correspondent who has trained hundreds of young, aspiring colleagues in Prague – and just guided my 17^th batch of trainees in how to secure their first foreign-datelined article.

Despite the plummet of foreign-reporting budgets and rise of the not-quite-a-journalist “Citizen Journalist,” various traditional and online media continue to allocate space for serious contributions from abroad. As Garton Ash rightly noted, there’ll always be a need for credible correspondents to do the “witnessing, deciphering and interpreting” of global events and trends for audiences back home.

What I can’t guarantee wanna-be correspondents, though, is that you’ll find full-time work abroad. Or can live exclusively off freelancing. Or will always be paid for material many editors now expect for free. You’ll surely have to hustle, as many do in a city like Istanbul. Or you may ultimately settle for a bit of foreign reporting on the side, coupled with a teaching, editing or PR-writing job.

But that said, nothing should discourage the hardier of you to at least try. Some surely will, to judge by the burgeoning of journalism programs world-wide, many of which seek to “internationalize” both curriculum and practical experiences for students. (See here and here.)

With this in mind, my latest training in Prague for the Transitions Online Foreign Correspondent Training Course gave me pause to consider how I myself broke into the business – and how I’d modify it today if I were to start over again. Here, then, is a revised roadmap to foreign correspondence.

From the outset, I’d arm myself with two marketable skills, not just one. In my day … Not to sound like a dinosaur, but when I started in journalism two decades ago, reporters reported, photographers shot, cameramen filmed, editors edited, and so on. We specialized – and the industry respected and appreciated the skills involved with each. Rare to do two of them well.

Today, the frenzy for all-things-multimedia means many journalists thirst to be a jack-of-all-trades, one-man-show like Kevin Sites, toting enough gear to present text, audio, video – and cut it themselves. More worrying, though, many clients now demand this juggling. Quality suffers, inevitably.

How unusual is it to find, say, a talented writer and photographer? Very. The lowered standards are obvious, with so many uninspired snapshots and shaky footage that media outlets post online.

Nevertheless, that’s the new reality. Not surprisingly, I myself have begun to take my photography more seriously in recent years, to not only enhance the appeal of the “packages” I offer, but also to supplement the modest income I generate from these assignments.

This means that even if you’re a sharp reporter with a literary flair, don’t rest on your laurels. Take a hands-on course in photography or documentary filmmaking, to broaden your skill-set. If you’re out in some exotic corner of the globe, interviewing unique people doing unique things, why wouldn’t you offer editors a story both written and visual? It’d be short-sighted not to.

This leads to a tip as true today as when I first broke into the business: invest in yourself, invest in all the gear and technology you’ll need. Like any self-starting entrepreneur – and that’s what you’d be – stomach the fact you’ll have to sink cash into start-up costs, to reap greater returns down the road.

Back in 1994-95, I overcame my concerns about the cost to snail-mail my portfolio from the Budapest post office, then to call long-distance to editors – to check if they’d received the darned thing. Perhaps today you could get away with using only an IPhone to do all your reporting, recording, writing and correspondence, as a young Italian foreign correspondent I know does from Ukraine. Yet as I did early on, you may also need to eat the costs of your initial assignments, to establish yourself first. If you have no track record, no credibility, why should they throw expenses your way?

OK, so let’s say you’re now armed with both the tools and skills to get started. In which country will you plant a flag as your new base of operations?

Before you lunge for your dream city – London, Paris, Rome, Tokyo! – think strategically. Choose someplace affordable. Breaking into foreign correspondence is hard enough without the stress of feeding yourself. You ready to subsist off ketchup packets, ramen noodles, tinned meat or baguettes?

Yet cost of living is only one factor. The shrewd move is to strike a balance between a country that’s “hot” news-wise versus one too far off-the-beaten path. Meaning, if your heart is set on a hotspot that also happens to be of vital importance to your home audience – or is embroiled in a headline-grabbing conflict or crisis – well, you wouldn’t be the only moth drawn to that flame.

Let me guess: you’ve long been fascinated by the Arab-Israeli conflict and want to move to Jerusalem? Do you realize Israel reportedly hosts the highest per-capita number of foreign correspondents in the world? So why would a novice like you go head-to-head with fierce competition?

On the other hand, you wouldn’t want to settle in someplace too remote. You may find it tough to sell reportage from a place that too few people have heard of, let alone care about.

In retrospect, I was fortunate to have chosen Budapest in the early 1990s. In reality, though, Budapest chose me – it was my father’s hometown, as he and his family had fled the Hungarian Revolution of 1956. Post-Communist Hungary overlapped three compelling story-lines: the wars of the former Yugoslavia, raging to the south; Eastern Europe’s drive to join quintessentially “Western” institutions like the NATO military alliance and European Union; and the struggle of the nuclear-armed, resource-rich ex-Soviet orbit, led by Russia, as it transformed from dictatorship to “democracy.”

When you move to a country, don’t think you’re there to just cover that country. Turn the entire region into your “beat.” Follow developments in each country, connect the dots, draw parallels, create an archive for yourself. While Hungary was rich in Hungary-specific stories, my reportage – for the Christian Science Monitor and many others – typically used the country as a microcosm of some trend that “opened a window” onto the region as a whole. In Budapest in the late 1990s, selling one article – say, for US$300 – was enough to cover the rent of my one-bedroom flat in central Budapest.

From 2006 to 2011, I embraced my new base in Slovakia the same way: with some unique stories of its own, but more so to illuminate the whole post-Communist-cum-EU-member community.

Skip to 2012. Where would I go today, if I were you? The Arab Spring sure is a hot story – and a smart, curious audience cares about the fate of those epic revolutions. But how many foreign correspondents do you think are currently camped out in Egypt, Tunisia and Libya? And today, in Syria?

If I’m a greenhorn, I may opt for Morocco. Home to less competition, and it provides choices. Offer clients the occasional Morocco-specific story with a more exotic dateline – Casablanca! Or, use Morocco as a window onto trends across North Africa. Or, as a base to parachute elsewhere in the Arab world. Morocco also boasts its own restive minority and region. Worth the occasional feature-story!

A place like Kyrgyzstan holds similar traits. Post-Communist, post-Soviet, predominantly Muslim Central Asia straddles the great divide between Christendom and the Islamic world. Kazakhstan is the region’s heavyweight and contains huge oil reserves; Turkmenistan sits atop the world’s fourth-largest natural-gas field. The latter is hermetic; the former, home to several foreign correspondents. But Kyrgyzstan? It offers the same local-regional appeal of Morocco – with a touch of civil unrest to boot.

One final example: the country I now call home, Lesotho. Never heard of it? Neither had I, really, until my wife – who works in international development – told me late last summer that we’d be moving here with our kids. Lesotho is remote indeed, surrounded entirely by South Africa, a “Mountain Kingdom” of just two million souls with the “highest low point” in the world.

So I’m starting over, once again. This time in both journalism and journalism-training. With my journalism, I’m following the same blue-print outlined above. I don’t cast myself as a “Lesotho correspondent,” but my new sphere of journalistic interest is southern Africa. With each story idea I pitch, I try to answer the questions that every editor around the world asks: Why does this country, this situation, this story, matter? Why should we care? Why should our audience read/watch/listen?

Lesotho itself is possessed of unique stories with an exotic dateline. I’ve also drummed up several arguments for why my clients and their readers should care: With the world’s third-highest HIV rate, tiny Lesotho opens a window onto how she and her neighbors are coping with the epidemic. With the Chinese here as the greatest foreign investors, tiny Lesotho opens a window onto a Chinese economic expansion verging on neo-colonialism across the whole of Africa. Nearly two decades since the end of South African apartheid, its legacy of racism resonates within Lesotho. And so on.

The formula, then: carefully choose a country, carve a broad beat, and make a robust case for why editors should green-light an assignment.

A last point. While much of the game-plan above mirrors what I myself endured 17-18 years ago, the Information Age has added an important new wrinkle. Wherever you decide to go, create your own blog. Post everything journalistic you produce on there, from text to photos to video clips.

The blog is not just a modern-day CV, but a space in the ether to hang your shingle, to announce you’re open for business, where clients and others can find you. I’ve evolved from blog-skeptic to true believer, for it’s the most effective marketing tool to “build your brand” as a freelance journalist.

Quite simply, your site enables you to show, not tell editors who you are, what you do, what your capabilities are – far more convincingly than any sheet of paper that lists your experiences, achievements and references.

None of this will make you rich. Nevertheless, foreign correspondence remains a noble mission. Despite all the technological advances, the audience needs us in the field more than ever. As Timothy Garton Ash put it: “All my experience cries out to me: there is nothing to compare with being there.”

A tiny mountain nation’s peaceful election and transfer of power is a lesson for all of southern Africa.

Rosina Moiloa, who had warned, “No change, no peace,” got what she wanted this week. (Photo: mjj)

THABA BOSIU, Lesotho — It was election day in Lesotho, and after almost three hours of standing in line, Rosina Moiloa had nearly reached the doorway of the threadbare school that doubled as the polling station in this village. But Rosina, a first-time voter, wasn’t griping about the wait.

The textile worker earns $140 per month, but spends nearly half that on the 30-minute taxi commute to her T-shirt factory in the capital, Maseru. In a country of 1.8 million, where half live in poverty and three-quarters lack electricity, she craves affordable educational opportunities for her two children.

So in the latest test of democracy in Africa, Rosina, 42, withstood the early-winter chill in the “Mountain Kingdom” of Lesotho, to reject the 14-year reign of Prime Minister Pakalitha Mosisili.

“We’ve been told that one vote can change a nation,” she proclaimed, with hands stuffed in her coat pockets for warmth, as other queuing villagers nodded. “I want to see if this is true.”

The May 26 balloting was hailed by political observers as one of the most transparent elections southern Africa has ever seen. Moreover Lesotho appears to have achieved a relatively smooth power transfer. The election resulted in the country’s first opposition victory and the formation of a coalition government. There were no accusations of vote-tampering. There was calm in the streets. And it appears that Mosisili will step down peacefully this week.

In a corner of the globe with little tradition of compromise and power-sharing, the election challenges notions about the dire fate of democracy in Africa and reminds me that many of the oft-derided “Western values” are in fact universal values. What society wouldn’t want to hold its leaders accountable for their words and deeds?

It has not always been this way in Lesotho. As recently as 1998, post-election violence saw rioting and fires in Maseru. South Africa, which surrounds this mountain enclave, sent in 700 troops. Overall, some 58 locals and eight South African soldiers died.

More from GlobalPost: High-altitude ponies help fight HIV in Lesotho

As the May 26 elections approached, Basotho and foreigners alike grew anxious about the potential for renewed violence — especially after pro-government and opposition forces clashed on April 19 and were beaten back by baton-wielding police. Ten people were injured.

More from GlobalPost: Economic growth pulls Rwandans out of poverty

Days later, though, I was heartened by a 62-year-old Basotho housekeeper named Anna, who unwittingly made the case for freedom of expression and a multiparty system.

“If a party makes promises you don’t like,” she explained, “choose another party. We must respect different opinions.”

Although Mosisili encouraged supporters to “retaliate” if attacked, there were other signs of hope.

Three days before the vote, state-controlled Lesotho Television — the country’s lone channel — broadcast its first live, televised election debate. In a Maseru café, as mindless music videos throbbed from a television screwed to the wall, a quartet of middle-aged Basotho men asked the waitress to flip to the debate — to watch democracy in action.

On election day, I headed to Thaba Bosiu, a name that resonates across the nation. In the Sesotho language, it means “mountain of the night,” as the village sits at the foot of the eponymous red-rock plateau. It was the stronghold of the venerated 19th-century king, Moshoeshoe, who’s been called southern Africa’s “first democrat” for his open-air, parliamentary-style gatherings of local chieftains.

On that day, along a rutted, unpaved road, past herds of grazing cows and traditional dung-packed huts known as rondavels, democracy unfolded as orderly as anywhere in the West — albeit at a snail’s pace. Voters filed in, one at a time, to cast
their ballot in cardboard booths, while eagle-eyed representatives of each party sat and watched. A lollipop-sucking policewoman even enforced the rule against politicking outside, advising me not to be too provocative with my questions.

More from GlobalPost: Lesotho’s prime minister and cabinet resign

“Careful not to influence the other voters,” she said, without removing her lollipop.

Since the voting there has been a relatively smooth transition toward forming a new coalition government that may include from three to five opposition parties.

A former foreign minister, Tom Thabane is expected to be sworn in as the new prime minister on Friday.

Although there are some clouds on the horizon — such as questions over how long the various opposition parties will coexist in one government — if Lesotho can carry out a peaceful, democratic change of government it will not only be a historic achievement for this nation but for all of southern Africa.

Michael J. Jordan is a Maseru-based journalist, a Christian Science Monitor correspondent since 1995 and a Visiting Scholar in the Hong Kong Baptist University International Journalism Studies program.

After a number of setbacks, with disputed elections leading to civil war, the African kingdom of Lesotho holds an election that boots the incumbent. A coalition government is in the works.

By Michael J. Jordan, Correspondent / June 1, 2012

Some Basotho outside Maseru say they waited up to three hours to vote. (Photo: mjj)

MASERU, Lesotho – Lesotho – the tiny mountain kingdom surrounded by South Africa, with the best (ok, only) skiing in Africa, and one of the world’s highest HIV infection rates – is getting recognition for something else: carrying out a peaceful election with a likely transfer of power.

After elections held this week, a majority of Basotho voters turned against the 14-year rule of Prime Minister Pakalitha Mosisili, expressing frustration with empty promises. With no party enjoying a convincing majority, five opposition parties this week cobbled together Lesotho’s first-ever coalition government and claim at least 61 seats of the 120-member parliament – with an ex-foreign minister, Tom Thabane, tabbed as the new premier.

With its straightforward process and absence of violence thus far, Lesotho gives a lesson in democracy that many other African countries — such as Mali, Guinea-Bissau, Cote D’Ivoire, Kenya, and even nearby Madagascar, Zimbabwe, and South Africa could learn to emulate, political observers say.

“If a sitting government actually leaves office gracefully, this will be a first for southern Africa,” says Nqosa Mahao, a coalition-government expert at South Africa’s University of the Witwatersrand, who advised the major parties here prior to the May 26 elections. “It will put Lesotho on the map for its democratic credentials – and set a tone for the rest of the region.”

Setbacks in African elections — notably the four-month civil war in Cote D’Ivoire in 2010, after the losing President Laurent Gbagbo refused to step down — have recently raised questions about whether democratic culture is actually taking root on the continent. Far too many elections feature heavy vote-rigging, intimidation, and sporadic bouts of violence, rendering the final vote count questionable in the eyes of election observers. Yet the election results in Lesotho shows that some African countries can hold world-class elections, even in a country with plenty of excuses for failure, including poverty and rugged terrain.

Even seasoned Western observers found much to praise.

Basotho await their turn to vote, while a man checks election-station instructions. (Photo: mjj)

“After a number of African elections that haven’t gone so well, this is more good news that free and fair elections can be done in Africa, too,” says Hans Duynhouwer, the European Union’s ambassador to Lesotho. “A coalition will be a novelty for Lesotho, as well: it will mean a change in the political culture, where they’ll have to develop a consensual approach across party divides.”

The question now is whether Mosisili, who holds sway over the army and police, steps down peacefully or stubbornly clings to power – as so many African leaders before him. In 1998, post-election violence in Lesotho spawned widespread arson in Maseru, triggering a minor invasion by neighboring South Africa, which then saw the deaths of at least 58 Basotho and eight South African troops.

As of Thursday, it was reported that Mosisili had submitted his resignation, but that the constitution required his caretaker leadership until a new Parliament could be seated within 14 days of the election. That was followed by rumors swirling of Mosisili’s minions feverishly horse-trading to buy votes of individual MPs, hoping to lure enough across the aisle to form a majority of their own – an unsettling scenario for hundreds of international observers in the capital, many of them fellow Africans.

Joseph Mokhele casts his vote while watchdogs from various political parties look on. (Photo: mjj)

Mosisili “assured me he would be the first to congratulate the winner – and we pray that will be the case,” says Bakili Muluzi, lead observer from the Commonwealth, a union of 54 pro-democracy countries. Muluzi, who himself had a checkered 10-year run as Malawi‘s president, says he now advises others: “Once the people have spoken, that must be respected. For those who want to stay in power, when their time has come, I tell them there is always life after politics – perhaps even a better life.”In many ways, Lesotho is an unlikely candidate for democratic trend-setter.

The former British protectorate gained independence in 1966, with subsequent decades marked by instability, military coup, one-party rule and sporadic violence – including political assassinations. However, the flames and bloodshed of 1998 scarred the public psyche. A startling reminder of that came on April 19, after a clash between pro-government and opposition activists injured 10 Basotho.

Unlike many post-colonial African societies, though, Lesotho has a single language – Sesotho – and one ethnic group, the Basotho people. In the absence of ethnic, religious, geographic or other divisions – ripe for leaders to exploit – the main rivalries here are political and personal.

(Outside this Maseru school, the crowd was large but patient. (Photo: mjj)

Locals say this fuels an aversion to Basotho fighting Basotho, a desire for peaceful compromise, and a focus on the real issues that plague Lesotho. Beyond HIV, half the Basotho here dwell in poverty, three-quarters lack electricity, and 40 percent of the children are malnourished.

Of the two leading opposition parties, the first split from Mosisili six years ago, while the other peeled off just a few months ago. With these cleavages, Mosisili’s party claimed just 41 of 80 constituencies – mostly in the remote mountains and valleys, where the primary mode of transport is horse, donkey or on foot – while urbanites, women and younger Basotho largely rejected him.

This thirst for change was palpable on election day.

In village voting stations set up across the spectacular landscape, many Basotho waited for hours, orderly and patiently, to file one-by-one into dilapidated schools and churches. They cast votes in cardboard booths, under the watchful eye of election officials, local cadres from each party, police officers and occasionally, international observers. Their ballots were dropped into sealed plastic bins, which from the most inaccessible locales were then flown by army helicopter back to Maseru.

Likenkeng Khetleng, a grandmother of four who ekes out an existence peddling South African oranges in the village of Thaba Bosiu, waited three hours to vent her anger.

Likenkeng Khetleng, after voting. (Photo: mjj)

“I’ve suffered as much as I can endure,” she shouted. “I want to see the government changed – and to know I played a hand in it.”

Yet with such enthusiasm for these elections, some voters also hinted at the disillusionment and apathy that may follow if no real improvement comes over the next five years.

“You know how it feels when you want something so badly?” asked Joseph Mokhele, a jobless 20-year-old who voted in the impoverished outskirts of Maseru, as cows grazed nearby. “If none of these promises is fulfilled, I won’t vote next time. Because it will mean my vote makes no difference.”

From here, then, it seems the ball is in Mosisili’s court.

Not a peep of protest in Thaba Bosiu. (Photo: mjj)

“The continent as a whole has made significant progress toward embracing liberal democracy and the rules of the game,” says Mahao, the South African law professor who is himself an ethnic Basotho. “If you have an electorate here that participates very peacefully, but there’s another setback, that would be a great betrayal. It would show that the leaders are not as mature as the followers.”

Political violence has flared ahead of May 26 Lesotho elections, but Archbishop Desmond Tutu urges candidates to keep the peace and respect election results.

By Michael J. Jordan, Correspondent, Christian Science Monitor

Bishop Tutu exhorts Basotho politicians to keep the peace. But will they listen? (Photo: mjj)

MASERU, Lesotho – Archbishop Desmond Tutu, the legendary anti-Apartheid activist and Nobel laureate, is officially retired from public life.

But he made an exception Friday for the tiny mountain kingdom of Lesotho.

Political violence in the enclave encircled by South Africa has flared up ahead of May 26 elections – an ominous sign in what one analyst calls the latest “stress test” for democracy in sub-Saharan Africa. Cracks have emerged here with high-profile assassinations, rumors of a “hit squad,” and clashes at campaign rallies.

So the United Nations invited Archbishop Tutu to bolster democracy in the land, where, before launching his crusade against Apartheid next door, he served his first bishopric from 1976-78. On Friday, his “prayer meeting” extracted a pledge among political rivals to keep the peace and respect election results.

Citing the past political violence of South Africa, Tutu urged an audience that included the prime minister of Lesotho, “Please, please, please, please do not let the same happen to this stunningly beautiful land. Nothing can be so precious that it can be bought with innocent lives.”

Lesotho’s election is more than a contested vote in a remote country rarely heard from. It comes on the heels of successful elections across the continent: Ghana, Guinea, Liberia, Niger, Nigeria, and Zambia have recently all experienced peaceful elections. There have been a few notable blemishes: a couple of coups des états in Mali and Guinea-Bissau, and a contested election in Cote D’Ivoire in late 2010 that briefly turned into a civil war.

The “democracy dividend” of those peaceful elections, the Brookings Institution recently observed, has seen triumphant African states “rewarded by the international community and the private sector through increased investments in durable infrastructure that directly contribute to faster growth.”

US Ambassador to Lesotho, Michele Thoren Bond, adds, “A hard-fought, transparent, credible election here in Lesotho reinforces the fact that this is becoming the norm, rather than the exception, in Africa.”

A Basotho politician signs the pledge on April 27, under Bishop Tutu’s watchful eye. (Photo: mjj)

In the mono-ethnic, mono-lingual country of Lesotho – almost entirely comprised of the Sesotho-speaking Basotho tribe – there’s less a focus on the carrot-and-stick diplomacy of outsiders than an emphasis on nurturing home-grown mediation between the feuding factions. It’s led by a coalition of churches and cultivated by the UN, which has invested heavily in technical assistance.

External interventions routinely foster resentment with locals and prove unsustainable, said UN Resident Coordinator in Lesotho Ahunna Eziakonwa-Onochie.

“The Basotho are a very proud nation and believe in their ability to solve their own problems,” Eziakonwa-Onochie said after Tutu’s speech. “But if there was anyone from the outside who could come and be acceptable to all parties, it was Bishop Tutu, who loves Lesotho like a second home.”

Nevertheless, many Basotho in the capital, Maseru, openly worry that the political process is slowing unraveling and may descend into the spasms of violence that have marked modern Lesotho.

For centuries, the Basotho were simple herders and subsistence farmers, dwelling at Africa’s highest altitude, expressing a fervent wish for “Khotso, Pula, Nala” – Peace, Rain, Prosperity.

Independence from Britain in 1966 was followed by heavy-handed rule, then a military coup, and uneasy constitutional monarchy. Accusations of vote-rigging spurred violence in 1998, and South Africa invaded with 700 troops. Dozens of South Africans and Basotho were reportedly killed, and arsonists targeted South African-owned shops in Maseru and elsewhere.

Against this backdrop of political volatility, a nation of 2 million has deteriorated, suffering the world’s third-highest rate of HIV infection and 40 percent malnutrition among children. Beaten down by poverty and HIV, agitating for democracy seems a luxury.

Meanwhile, more unrest followed the 2007 elections. Over the past two years, the UN has guided the authorities toward passage of a new electoral law, which enshrined compromise and power-sharing. Yet recent months have seen a return to a win-at-all-costs ethos.

Several politicians have been gunned down, and the March 29 slaying of a renowned radio presenter, Thabang Moliko, sent a shudder through journalists and civil society. Marafaele Mokhoboli, one of Lesotho’s peskiest reporters and president of the Lesotho Association of Journalists, told the Monitor this month “my bags are packed – just in case. You can never relax and sit back here, because you never know when they may hit you.”

Some Basotho said last week they fear a return to the trauma of 1998, especially after the April 19 clashes at a pro-government rally, when opposition activists rushed at the incumbents and were beaten by baton-wielding security. Ten Basotho were reportedly hospitalized.

Bishop Tutu and his Basotho admirers. Mosisili, in the back row, in red vest, looks on. (Photo: mjj)

In response, Prime Minister Pakalitha Mosisili encouraged supporters to “retaliate with all your might” if attacked, while the Lesotho military has vowed to “hit very hard” any provocateurs.

So much for the country’s new “code of conduct” law, say some Basotho.

“The sides keep breaching, breaching and breaching it,” says one government worker, who frets that her ministry may be targeted for retribution by post-election rioters, as it was in 1998. “It feels like the situation is getting worse and worse every day.”

Yet some ordinary Basotho hold out hope that democracy will prevail. “The Basotho are a peaceful nation, who only want to walk in peace and sleep in peace,” said Anna, a 62-year-old housekeeper in the capital. “If a party makes promises you don’t like, choose another party. We must respect different opinions.”

Enter Bishop Tutu, the octogenarian orator who charmed his audience by mixing in large doses of Sesotho. He also conjured images of the African killing fields of Rwanda, Democratic Republic of Congo, and the Darfur region of Sudan.

“I’ve been to all these places – please don’t add Lesotho to this list,” he implored, before a final pitch to all parties to approach, one by one, to sign his vow of peace – which they did, including Mosisili. “Whoever does not take this pledge, does not love Lesotho – and does not deserve to be its leader.”

It’s the last Friday of the month: payday in a country of 2 million where an estimated 40 percent live beneath the international poverty line. It’s also raining meerkats and jackals upon a drought-struck land where a survivalist mountain tribe – the Sesotho-speaking Basotho – claim as a national mantra, “Khotso, Pula, Nala.” A simple request for Peace, Rain, Prosperity.

Today, at least they’re getting the rain. But it’s so torrential, I’m sure some misfortunate families are eyewitness to their precious maize crops – the thrice-a-day staple of their diet – slowly washing away. (The World Food Program is already here, helping to feed tens of thousands of families.)

I just rolled into the Pioneer Mall – just about the only place in Maseru where you can seek refuge from the rain with hot coffee or tea. And a modicum of atmosphere. Yet there’s an enormous line of working stiffs, stretched out to the middle atrium, nice and orderly. They’re wet. And unlike their jolly selves.

These are the Basotho proletariat, waiting their turn to withdraw from the ATM. But this line seems much longer than normal. As I motor past, on my way to the loo, I ask the security guard what’s up. He produces one of those irresistible Basotho smiles, and without a trace of sympathy, declares, “The machine just ran out of money!”

So these poor shlubs sense no other alternative than to just stand there – for who knows how long. Now that is a lousy day.

(As I sit here, relaxed, sipping my hot espresso…)

MASERU, Lesotho – The email arrived on the eve of a journalism workshop I’d lead at Kick4Life, an NGO that promotes sport and HIV awareness in a country with the world’s third-highest rate of HIV infection.

Lesotho blends beauty with bleakness. (Photo: mjj)

The three-session workshop would be for the newly formed Writing Club, where young Basotho explore their first-hand HIV experiences with pen and paper.

No one here, it seems, is unaffected by HIV. My task would be to teach them a bit about third-person feature writing – to give voice to the voiceless. (For my dispatch on the workshop itself, watch this space in the near future.)

The email, then, was a collection of their vignettes, names withheld, for me to get a sense of what I’d be working with. The first few pieces start slowly, but they begin to bite harder and harder. Themes emerge: beer, sexual aggression, low self-esteem, risky behavior, HIV.

One teen apparently admit to rape. Another tells of a friend impregnated by her father. A third describes an HIV-induced suicide.

Taken together, they paint a striking portrait of life today for young Basotho. That’s why I’ve posted them below, unedited …

“PROBLEMATIC PREGNANCY”

Though I always visited my girlfriend time and again, that her mother was pregnant I was not aware.

After giving birth, she openly told me she was HIV positive. Hospital officials told her after giving birth. She was so disappointed, lonely and felt alone.

She had played tricks for her not to be tested while pregnant. Along happier times long before her pregnancy, she once said never ever can she go for voluntary [counselling] and testing.

She reasoned that because when HIV positive death time is just around the corner, she fears she will suffer a lot [psychologically]. She could not help struggling to figure out how her four children could survive without her as a single parent.

“TEENAGE PARENTING”

Shortly after giving birth she died; shortly after her burial the [new-born] was no more and also buried.

In a very short space of time more than a lot happened to her eldest child, that’s her daughter. This is the girl who was my girlfriend.

She was 17 years old in late 2007, the period I am [referring] to. After the day her mother died, she was not buried for about a month. There was no money for the funeral and her family elders were busy fighting.

My girlfriend got herself a new boyfriend. I fought the new guy in her life and wanted to win her confidence back. She was the eldest of the five children and had to support them financially and emotionally. Her mother used to run a pre-school and she had to take over and for six or five months she was no more at school because she had to attend her [sickly] mother.

Within two months from her mother’s burial, she got married to her new boyfriend. For once I knew he had beat her before they got married. He was suspicious that she was cheating with yet another guy. My girlfriend’s aunt said at times she would not sleep home.

“BITTER MARRIAGE”

Late 2011 they were forced to separate through the intervention of the police. She could endure the beatings and threats of her husband but no more.

She opted for police intervention because the family was aware and the chief could not help effectively.

Their son is old enough to go for pre-school. She is a shopkeeper and her husband a [gardener].

“LESSON LEARNT”

In between her mother becoming sick and dying, she became desperate, vulnerable and [maybe] confused.

The family was fighting over the burial arrangement, not how the children will progress then afterwards or how they are surviving as of now.

Supportive structures like Kick4Life, LPPA, Youth [Centres], or/and community youth groupings, would be of great help in one way or another.

Worst of all, that she was no more attending school was even much more disastrous. [Maybe] one teacher or a friend at school would notice that there is something strange upon her life, thereby be a supportive good fellow.

“HARSH TIME OF OUR LIVES”

My name is []. I had the friend whose name was Marakalla. We were at the same age, when we had chaos inside our heads. The confusion was that we [couldn’t] detect [the] importance of going to school while we [were] still young. Rather, we decided to steal and sell [drugs] in order to get money for beer.

Firstly, we started by stealing chickens, peaches, carrots, maize as well as potatoes. Immediately after we survived to steal, as [speedy] as rockets we went to town and sell them to some hawkers and some people who need cheap goods. That harsh business grown up, where we [ended] up [reaching] rich places.

Secondly, after we got huge money, we went to clubs to drink beer. Going to the club several times and attending some special [occasions] in [the] club [made] us to be known. We [gravitated] to most of [the] richest women at [the] clubs, [and] we [ended] up having some sugar mummies (mechaufa). That was [the] time [when] I realised that having sex with [an] older person, without [a] condom [is] most enjoyable.

Apart from that we used to buy some prostitute[s] [especially] while our sugarmummies are not there. Even though, we end up attending some counselling course at Kick4Life when we opened after big mistake. (Hee chacha e ncha) youth wake up on time, avoid some [temptation].

“MY DAYS BECOME RUDE TO ME”

I am the boy aged 19 years old. I started drinking beer while I was living with my aunty. We used [to] rumble because she [was] always insulting me. Furthermore, she didn’t want me to [touch] anything: television, radio, telephone, computer as well as her car.

Fortunately, I was [a] well [behaved] child because I’ve been [brought] up by my grandmother. Even though things become worse to me, because she started treating me like a slave, looking [at] me like she saw an ugly monkey [in the] forest. The fact that I’m [an] orphan, I decided to go to my friend to get some advice. Unfortunately, I [got] out from [the] frying pan into the fire.

They said to me, “Boy it’s time to be [a] man, [the] solution [is] beer”. Without any doubts, I started drinking beer. Immediately after I [got] drunk…. [*section of text isn’t clear here*]

I became more addicted to drinking beer. Unfortunately, this leads me to temptation. I remember one day when my problem [overcame] me! On my way home, I met with my old girlfriend who was away from because of her status. The fact that my brain was off, I started asking her to [have] sex but she refused. As angry as the lion I forced her to do it.

Ao shame! She didn’t cry [or] do anything, [even] to go to [the] police or tell her parents, but she said “you will suffer some consequences soon.” After some months I told my friends [and] they [advised] me to go to the clinic to check my status. Badly I found that I’m HIV positive, that where my problems [became] worse than before, because everybody gallop away from me, so guys and girls support all people who suffer from HIV positive.

“UNTITLED”

I used to have a friend who had multiple sex partners. She had a partner [of] her [own] age, while the others were ministers of finance. She was involved in risky behaviour since she did not always use a condom and finally fell pregnant. Lucky enough she was HIV negative.

When she realised that she [was] pregnant she stopped all the relationships she had. The consequences were not good at all because the father [of the baby] denied her. He stated that he was not the only man in her life, so [it was] possible that he [was] not the father.

I have realised that having multiple sexual partners has got bad results even if one can have the material things he/she was seeking. The worst part of it is when you become infected with HIV/AIDS. Fortunately, my friend came out positive and decided to change her life.

“UNTITLED”

Coming to Kick4Life became a life changing experience. I only knew that Kick4Life changes life through sport. Then [came] the how question. I just saw it on TV and knew nothing more about it. I decided to take a step forward and filled a volunteering form. After some time I was told to come to an [intervention]. What was the [intervention] all about?

Not knowing what is so called [intervention], I came. There were games that we played that are related to HIV/AIDS. This was the most, or should I say awesome, games that I have ever played. The reason behind [this] is that we were all taking part while on the other hand we were learning.

Kick4Life has made a great impact in my life, so much that I wish all young people can make time for it and reap good fruits. I have learned a lot about HIV/AIDS since I thought I knew. Most importantly, since the message is portrayed through games, it is not easy to forget what was taught.

I wish all the parents should be supportive enough and let their children come to have this life changing experience. It also helps keep young people [off] the streets where they can easily get into mischief. Come and ride this rocket with me and your life shall never be the same again. Cheers!!

“RISKY BEHAVIOUR CAN LEAD TO DEATH”

Liteboho, a 20 year old female friend of mine who stayed at Ha Pita used to date older guys with their own cars. And they would buy her everything she wanted. One day one of her sugardaddies, Ntate Lereko who is as old as her father, invited her to his house. She wouldn’t turn that one off for she’d bring lots of money from there so she went. As they were having a good time and enjoying each other’s company, there was a knock at the door and before they could know it the door was opened and there a respectable lady was standing: turned out it was Lereko’s wife.

As shocked as my friend was, she tried escaping but couldn’t. She was badly beaten by the furious wife who was, after some minutes, stopped by her husband and there Liteboho was rescued. Because of the bad bruises she had, she had to visit a doctor, and while she was at it she tested HIV positive.

Things got worse when her mother read a note left on the floor by her only daughter apologising for all the wrongs she did, including having to leave the ‘unfair life’. What a miserable day for a single parent [whose] daughter just committed suicide!!

My friend’s story taught me I’m good as I am dating guys my age or rather being single. I believe if she didn’t get involved with older guys she’d still be here because surely she wouldn’t be having HIV. It taught me I need to accept myself the way I am. I mean what my parents [give] me is enough thanks to my friend’s death, because before when I saw her being bought expensive clothes by her sugar-daddies I was really tempted and even considering it so now I know better.

Again I learnt that I need and have to accept and face whatever comes my way whether good or bad and hopefully all youths out there will learn that, because frankly speaking, committing suicide isn’t a solution but only could make things worse for those we’d be leaving behind.

“UNTITLED”

Hi, my name is [], a Mosotho girl aged 19. I used to have fun with my friends not forgetting more alcohol behind because we believed that ‘no fun without alcohol’. One day when we were walking along the [road] with my friends, [a] black Navara stopped by our side. There were two men in it. They asked us to take a journey to Metolong with them. Without no [waste] of time we jumped into the car. At this time [we] did not ask who these guys are, where they [live] or what they were up to.

On our way to Metolong they stopped the car at the lodge called ‘Meleso. They asked us what we would like to have for drinking and we shouted “Savannah!”. Surprisingly when they came back they brought Tasemburg. On our way back from Metolong, they stopped the car near a river at Khorong and we all stepped out of [the] car to take pictures.

Immediately when we were taking pictures we were surprised by bad things they said that involved [us] having sex with them. One of these two men made it clear to us that they are going to share us, each is going to have his two girls for sex. We denied it, but they strengthened their points by telling us that they can’t [waste] their petrol and money to buy us beer for nothing. After this conversation they kindly asked us to jump in to the car so that they can take us home. When it arrived at Thaba-bosiu junction they took a wrong direction, opposite to that will take us home, and started to drive a car with its highest speed.

At this time we were afraid about what was going to happen to us, also we were not patient to go to where they were going because it was late.

While we were thinking about resolutions to our problem, one of our friends jumped off the car, she rolled down like a ball. We cried out for help and the car stopped. We jumped off to help our friend and we discovered that she was badly injured such that her clothes were torn up. The worst thing of this incident is that the two men we were with could not help us but they passed us claiming that we are useless we can’t give them what they want.

At this time it was late, also we were so drunk that we were unable to carry the injured girl. Luckily one taxi that passes near our village arrived on our way, we stopped it and asked for help, they patiently helped us and we arrived home.

About this story I would like to give awareness to girls: Girls be aware of men, they are hungry lions outside ready to swallow one. Also never trust strangers because some can bring [a] sour ending to the rest of your life or piece of fun you have. Be aware of HIV/AIDS, teenage pregnancy and human trafficking.

“THE DANGERS OF ALCOHOL ABUSE”

In 2009 I had a friend, his name was Masuta. He was 25 years old and he lives in Thabong, Maseru. In his spare time Masuta enjoys dancing and listening to music.

Masuta was working at one of the clothing shop[s] in town. As they were not working on weekends, he would spend his time at the taverns drinking beer. After drinking he used to buy sex workers (Likuena) before going home. But that happened only when drunk.

One day he told me that while having sex with a sex worker other time, in the middle he decided not using a condom as that girl was giving him the best. He told me that that happened years ago before knowing me. I asked him if he tested for HIV after that, he said no. I [advised] him to go for testing. He promised to go there and give me feedback. Unluckily he never came back to me. I tried to phone him but his phone was not available for a long time.

So, by not giving me feedback, I thought that maybe he found that he was HIV positive. I learned that drinking too much alcohol is not good and can lead us to HIV/AIDS. It is better to avoid risky behaviours that may lead to HIV/AIDS. And I think we must take part in sports or reading books to get more knowledge about our daily lives.

“UNTITLED”

My name is [] and most people call me []. I was with my friends planning to go partying at a hotel for the whole night in town. One of them called [her] boyfriend because he had a car, so she told him she had friends who wanted to go out. Without wasting any time he arrived with his friends too, and we moved on. I didn’t tell my boyfriend that I was going out with friends that day. When we arrived at the hotel one of my boyfriend’s [friends] called him and told him I was with the guys he didn’t know and I am also drinking alcohol.

Immediately he arrived and [held] my hand and took me out of the hotel. He asked me about those people I am with and I [lied] to him that they were my friend’s friends. Then he didn’t allow me to go anywhere, my friends left me there hopeless. I remember clearly that I was still a virgin at that time. He told me that I was going to sleep with him, as we didn’t sleep [together] ever since we dated because I was already having a partner there that I was going to sleep with. He then forced me to have sex with him, I cried a lot but he didn’t buy anything. I asked him to use a condom but he denied and told me they don’t fit him.

I thought maybe my friends are having a good time. Suddenly things turned out badly. They also slept with those guys they didn’t know because they were under the influence of alcohol. Two of them [fell] pregnant, oh! What a time I also fell pregnant. So to young people out there, I would like to tell you that if you don’t have self-confidence you might [] well find yourselves in the same situation. Think and make a good decision on what you want to have and achieve in life. Think twice before you make a wrong decision that would ruin your life forever.

“UNTITLED”

My name is []. I am a Mosotho girl aged 21. I went to school at St. Stephen’s High School. I had a friend from a nearby school, her name is Lerato. Lerato was an intelligent student, caring and always attending our after school discussions. To [paraphrase] some of the wise men’s words, it is said, “All that [glitters] is not gold.” Likewise, Lerato was intransigent and she never took anyone’s advice if she felt that she did not need it.

We were in Form E when Lerato began acting weird. She came late for discussions and she was the first to leave the group. I marvelled at her behaviour and secretly, I decided to approach her. As usual, Lerato ignored my disapproval regarding her recent behaviour. She became more and more scarce each and every day. Sometimes, she was dropped by our place by different fancy cars. She would lie to us and say, “That was my uncle.” Her excuses became more frequent.

My cognitive skill became real one day when Lerato came to our group with two ladies who were rumoured to be top class prostitutes. They were as drunk as a swimming fish. That had always been my fear, new expensive jewelleries, clothes and food. Lerato was literally a prostitute. She was involved in both transactional and transgenerational relationships. Lerato had [reached a point of no return] with her behaviour and we concluded that it was time to confront her, whether she would listen or not.

The next day was Saturday, a good day for a meeting and a very crucial one for that matter. When the meeting initiated, Lerato was down to earth. We told her [the] dangers of having multiple sexual partners, older partners that normally chauffeured her in fancy cars to her place, alcohol abuse and negative peer pressure from the recent friends she had lately.

We told her that, with these risks surrounding her, she was much more likely to [contract] HIV/AIDS. After talking to her, she told us that she suspected that she was pregnant. We [advised] her to go to a clinic and test for HIV since she was engaged in sexual activity with different people.

She took our advice but the news [was] bad. She tested positive. We told her to take ARVs as the nurse had recommended. Lerato did as she was told and she went to the clinic frequently for treatment (PMTCT). Her baby boy was born later the following year without HIV. Lerato went back to school again and she became more engaged than ever. She was healthy and we gave her all the support that she needed. She passed with first division and right now she is a nurse and youth counsellor.

“UNTITLED”

Me and my friends [used] to party a lot at teen stage, by that time we were still at school and had no money for parties but since we liked going out then we had to find the means of income. One of my friends by the name of Lineo started dating older men and they always [gave] her money.

One day Ntate Thabiso, a rich man who has many fancy cars, proposed [to] Lineo and without a doubt she [admitted / accepted?] the proposal. Everybody or every lady wanted to date Sthabi (that is how they used to call him), he also go around with several girls.

Sthabi could take us to the hotel for drinks and book a room for him and Lineo. We never card what was happening or could happen to our friend because she was spoiling us with whatever we wanted. When time goes by my friend told us that Sthabi never want to use a condom anymore reason being he is always with Lineo, love her very much and gives her whatever she wants. We warned her and she also insisted that Sthabi loves her.

Lineo fell pregnant and was also HIV positive. [She] told Sthabi and Sthabi admitted that he was [the] father and he wanted to marry Lineo. Lineo was in shock because Sthabi was old and she thought he could have had a wife by then, but she told him to go to [her] place and talk to her mother since her mother was a single parent.

Before Sthabi can go to Lineo’s place, she told her mother that she was pregnant and the father of her baby will come soon. Like every mother who always [strives] for the success of her child, tears run down her face but nothing she could do. After a period of a month, Sthaby went to Lineo’s place and he find Lineo’s mum, aunt and brother. Lineo’s smile was dancing at the corner of her lips when she saw the father of [her] child entering the door, but immediately her mother fainted. What could have been the reason for Lineo’s mother to faint when [she] saw Sthabi, that was a question to Lineo, while she was open-mouthed she saw Sthabi running away and never come back.

Her mother was taken to the hospital and while still recovering she told Lineo that Sthabi will never marry her, there was no way she will allow that. Lineo wondered why and her mother told her that Ntate Thabiso was Lineo’s father.

I have realised that having an older partner can lead to serious consequences such as HIV, unplanned pregnancy and more importantly: an older partner can be your father especially when being raised by a single mother.

As for me and my friends [we vowed] never to go partying because there is where peer pressure is.

MASERU, Lesotho – Last week was one filled with nostalgia and melancholy.

Li Yu survived the Wenzhou train crash. (Photo: mjj)

From my new base in Lesotho, three other adopted homes – Hungary, Slovakia and China, all dear to my heart – each resurfaced in the news with depressingly familiar story-lines. From thousands of miles away, they reminded me of past reporting – and how little changes.

First up, Slovakia, where I recently lived for five years. One of its historic, hilltop castles burns to the ground – apparently caused by two kids, 11 and 12, messing with cigarettes on a windy day. From an adjacent village, they accidentally set fire to some dry grass, whose embers floated upward, igniting the castle’s timber roof.

Poof! In minutes, a gothic, seven-century-old memento, gone.

The Slovak and Czech reaction? Gypsies! It must’ve been those damned Gypsies! More than a rush to judgment, it was a virtual blood-libel against Europe’s largest and most marginalized minority, known more respectfully as Roma. Over the years, I’ve chronicled countless times [like here, here and here] how post-Communist Central Europe always finds something to blame on the Roma. (Even if there’s no love lost in Slovakia for castles that are essentially relics of Hungarian overlordship, while Slovaks toiled as serfs.)

This fire came on the heels of public outrage over a galling corruption scandal, followed by an election that ousted the ruling coalition. If a beaten child has no recourse toward his parents, he turns to kick the dog. Especially in a region saddled by congenital resistance to introspection, which much prefers to point the finger of blame elsewhere.

Though in this case, soul-searching is well warranted, as a Slovakian art historian asserted. The brushfire threat around the castle always existed, he charged, and state authorities were negligent to protect and preserve it.

“It is forbidden to burn grass and it is certainly wrong to do so, but it is just as sick to put the blame on ‘unidentified perpetrators’ who are allegedly members of a minority in the interest of distracting attention from one’s own responsibility,” said the art-historian, Július Barczi.

Next in the news, China.

I’ve spent the past three fall semesters teaching in Hong Kong – “China with an asterisk,” I call it – and explored a sizable chunk of the mainland. Like last October, when a former journalism student and I ventured to Wenzhou, to profile a city that was scene of the deadly, July 23 high-speed train crash. A fatal combination of lightning strike, technical malfunction and human error caused the train plunge off a viaduct, killing up to 40 commuters.

The world’s emerging superpower was traumatized, spewing rage into the Chinese blogosphere about how Beijing’s blistering pace of modernization shows reckless disregard for ordinary folk.

Then, on March 12 – just weeks after China’s Ministry of Railways ramped up hundreds of billions of dollars’ worth of new high-speed rail line – official media conceded a section collapsed amid heavy rain.

I recalled the words of Li Yu, a Wenzhou train-crash victim, whom we interviewed – and I photographed during his physical-therapy session to rehabilitate a crushed right foot. Near the end of our visit, Yu lamented how little lives are valued in the world’s most populous country.

“China always competes to be the biggest, the best, the first – why can’t we compete to be the safest?” Yu told us, while sitting gingerly on the edge of a hospital bed. “Maybe it’s that China is too large: if one, two or hundreds die, who cares?”

China is already rattled by the people-power that drove the Arab Spring, and, post-Wenzhou, is whittling away at social media. When, if ever, will we see a tipping point for the Chinese public?

Finally, there was Hungary. Oh, Hungary! Forever in my blood – and that of my children. My father was born there, I lived there for six years, my wife’s from there, and my kids enjoy dual citizenship. So, yes, I have a vested interest in its present and future. Still, I worry I’m too rough on the place, focusing unfairly on the unflattering. Although last year, I produced comeback-kid narratives here and here after a toxic spill of “red sludge” killed 10 Hungarians.

Still, Hungary has clearly slipped from post-Communist front-runner to the region’s bad boy, in terms of its sickly economy, noxious politics and cowed media. The capper was a “constitutional coup” sealed in January by a ravenous government wielding absolute parliamentary majority. Brussels howled in protest. Hungary, after all, had for years banged on the door of the exclusive European Union – to join the “winning side” of the Cold War – which it finally did in 2004.

Last week’s Hungary news began with a spark of hope. A Hungarian court rules that the country’s most independent-minded radio station, Klub Radio, could continue to broadcast despite efforts to seize its license. Then came March 15, and national commemoration of the Hungarian role in the 1848 revolutions against Vienna and the Habsburg Monarchy.

Hungary’s pugnacious premier, Viktor Orban, let loose with what may be par for the course for his domestic speeches, but reads from afar as nothing less than an anti-Europe diatribe comprised of a frightening mix of paranoia and delusion, megalomania and more scapegoating. He drew repeated parallels between today and not only the 1848 uprising, but the bloody 1956 Hungarian Revolution against the Soviet empire and its Communist puppets in Budapest.

“We will not be a colony! … Hungarians will not live as foreigners dictate it, will not give up their independence or their freedom … Freedom for us means that we are not inferior to anyone else. It means that we also deserve respect … We are more than familiar with the character of unsolicited comradely assistance, even if it comes wearing a finely tailored suit and not a uniform with shoulder patches … Our freedom fights always meant a step forward for the world. They meant progress because we were right. We were right even if everyone denied this … European bureaucrats look at us with distrust today because we said: we need new ways … You will see my dear friends that we will be proven right yet again … We are capable of standing our ground against the injustice of stronger empires. This is why we are respected by those who respect us. This is why we are attacked by those who are against us.”

Perhaps Orban has little left to offer his supporters beyond the bunker of angry, fearful, us-versus-them isolation: If only the world unshackled us, we would soar. From a far-right crank, it’s understandable. But from the leader of an EU state? Unacceptable.

European Commission President José Manuel Barroso responded in kind. “Those who compare the EU to the USSR show a complete lack of understanding of what democracy is and show a lack of respect for those who have fought for freedom and democracy,” said his spokeswoman.

Slovakia, China, Hungary … This fan, for one, hopes there’ll be better weeks ahead.