Israel and Palestine: Divergent Histories of Travel and War

One year after the Oct. 7 attacks, Israel and Palestine’s respective travel landscapes reveal just how differently the two countries are experiencing the ongoing war.

A street vendor in Jerusalem. Ronen Marcus. CC BY 4.0

Boasting ancient holy sites like the Western Wall and natural attractions like the Dead Sea, Israel brands itself as a popular travel destination for both the spiritual and the secular tourist. In 2023, the Israeli Ministry of Tourism reported over 32 million travelers. Palestine, meanwhile, saw 2.5 million visitors between January and early October 2023, according to the Palestinian Ministry of Tourism and Antiquities. While disparate, these numbers reflect a larger pattern in the long history of travel to the region.

Before the Zionist movement (an effort to create a Jewish state through colonization) emerged in the late 19th century, trips to historic Palestine, “the Holy Land,” were almost exclusively religious in nature. After several failed attempts to create a Jewish state, Zionists set their sights on historic Palestine due to the area’s alignment with the biblical land of Israel. To bolster their efforts, Zionists turned to tourism, recognizing that travel to Palestine could help boost immigration and help establish a Jewish presence in the majority-Arab region. Further, Zionists gathered that if they kept promoting tourism, they could perhaps convince secular visitors that this Jewish presence was inherently more valuable and historic, thereby granting it a perception of legitimacy and therefore protection. Desiring to entrench themselves in Palestine, Zionists spent the early 20th century advertising access to biblical Jewish sites, propaganda that continues to prove effective even after Israel’s establishment in 1948.

Posters promoting travel to historic Palestine. (L) 1936. (R) 1940s. CC BY 4.0

Israel enjoys a lucrative tourism industry, seeing more than 32 million travelers and $5 billion in revenue in 2023 alone, according to the Israeli Ministry of Tourism. However, following the immediate aftermath of the Oct. 7 attacks, these numbers plummeted. Flights to Israel were canceled as international airlines and government officials raised safety and security concerns. Traveler rates dropped accordingly. “When the war began, everything stopped,” Israeli tour guide Moshe Benishu said, as reported by The Jerusalem Post. “Not a single tourist arrived in Israel.” Reuters reported 99,000 traveler entries to Israel for the rest of October 2023 and just 39,000 that November. To put this slump into context, the number of monthly entrants into Israel before Oct. 7, 2023, averaged above 300,000. 

In recent months, Israel has seen its traveler rates partially recover, tallying 68,100 tourist entrants in February 2024 and 79,500 in March. “Since the beginning of 2024, 400,000 tourists entered the country,” Keren Setton reported for The Media Line in May 2024. During the same January-May period in 2023, Israel saw two million entrants. But still, the monthly rates of 2024 so far mark an increase compared to the last quarter of 2023. “We Israelis are good at reinventing ourselves,” Benishu said. Slowly but surely, things are returning to form in Israel. The same cannot be said for Palestine. 

Since the onset of the war, Palestine’s territories, the Gaza Strip and the West Bank, (both occupied by Israel since 1967) have been devastated with next-to-no reprieve. As of Sep. 29, 2024, Palestinian health authorities have attributed more than 41,500 Palestinian deaths to Israel’s air and ground campaign in Gaza alone, though violence in the West Bank has spiked as well. 

Casualties in Gaza. Saleh Najm and Anas Sharif. CC BY 4.0

Infrastructure, too, has been decimated in Palestine. With hospitals, water/electric systems, houses and schools reduced to rubble, entire Palestinian communities have been destroyed and families killed in scores. As David Leonhardt summarized for The New York Times, “Israel has dropped 2,000-pound bombs on densely populated neighborhoods” with little consideration for less fatal alternatives. 

Destruction in Gaza. Saleh Najm and Anas Sharif. CC BY 4.0

As mentioned previously, the West Bank enjoyed a burgeoning tourism industry before Oct. 7. Despite Israel’s control over the flow of travelers, the Palestinian Ministry of Tourism and Antiquities still reported 2.5 million visitors to the occupied enclave between January and early October 2023. Since then, however, the West Bank has not been able to recoup even 1% of this number, with the region’s tourism sector currently experiencing losses of around $2.5 million every day. In Bethlehem especially, where “tourist dollars” are “the cornerstone” of the economy, according to Haaretz, the financial hit has severely strained people’s livelihoods. “Life has been hell,” said Palestinian merchant Mahmoud Falah Sleiman. “The situation was bad even before the war started, but it was better than now. We were able to pay for electricity, food, water.”

In the Gaza Strip, tourism has been virtually nonexistent since 2007 — a consequence of Israel’s land, air and sea blockade imposed after Hamas took root there. Before Israel’s occupation of the region in 1967, Gaza was a hotspot for traveling Egyptians and Lebanese merchants. But after 1967, and especially since the 2007 blockade cut off food, water and humanitarian aid from Gaza’s two million citizens, (conditions some have likened to “collective punishment” and an “open air prison”) there’s been next-to-no tourism. Given the mass destruction of life and infrastructure in Gaza since Oct. 7, there won’t be anytime soon.


Bella Lui

Bella is a student at UC Berkeley studying English, Media Studies and Journalism. When she’s not writing or working through the books on her nightstand, you can find her painting her nails red, taking digicam photos with her friends or yelling at the TV to make the Dodgers play better.

The Direction of Iran’s Woman, Life, Freedom Movement

With tensions high domestically and internationally, women both inside and outside of Iran are cynical that things will change. 

A mural in support of the Jin, Jiyan, Azadi (Woman, Life, Freedom) movement. Herzi Pinki. CC BY 4.0

For many in Iran, history can be broken up into two epochs: before 1979 and after. Women, in particular, find significance in this demarcation because Iran’s 1979 Islamic Revolution brought the expansion — and then constriction — of their rights. These tensions surrounding women’s role in Iranian society came to a head in 2022, when the widespread Woman, Life, Freedom movement put them on global display. But the Woman, Life, Freedom movement didn’t spawn out of nowhere, and it’s important to look at its past when considering its future.

Women at the 1979 International Women’s Day protests in Tehran. Mohammad Sayad. CC0

Prior to the Iranian Revolution, women saw their rights and opportunities gradually expand as part of the country’s modernization efforts. The state wanted to Westernize itself, and this manifested in women being mandated (sometimes violently) to not veil themselves, per a 1936 decree. But the revolution saw the nation shirk its Western influences  — thanks in large part to women. While some mobilized public demonstrations, others acted as nurses and first responders. Few fought in guerilla conflicts, but many wore hijabs to protest the monarchy's 1936 ban on veils, linking modest dress with the revolution’s vision of a new Iran. 

However, after the revolution succeeded and the pro-Western monarchy was overthrown for an Islamist theocracy, women’s roles became more limited. In an interview I conducted with  Iranian Circle of Women’s Intercultural Network steering committee member Ruja Kia, she affirmed, “Adding the religious components of private life to the law of the land never makes things easier for women.”  

The revolution placed nearly all Iranian state power in the role of “the supreme leader,” where it still remains today. As both a religious and  political authority, the first supreme leader, Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini, sought to curb women’s post-revolution rights and professional opportunities in favor of a return to traditional domesticity. Further, after revolutionaries associated modesty with the new Islamic Republic, Khomeini mandated women to cover themselves with hijabs. What had once been a symbol of dissent and autonomy became a violently imposed law. 

The 1979 hijab mandate notably came under international scrutiny in 2022, following the death of Mahsa Amini. Iran’s Guidance Patrol, or morality police, arrested Amini for an “improper hijab.” She died in their custody three days later —  officially of a heart attack but allegedly of police brutality (In our interview, Ruja Kia also noted that Amini was Kurdish, an Iranian ethnic minority that often faces discrimination). 

A man protests in support of the Woman, Life, Freedom movement following Amini’s death. Ilias Bartolini. CC BY 2.0

Amini’s death sparked mass protests — not only in Iran but also around the world. Internationally, the rallying cry was “woman, life, freedom,” a translation of the Kurdish feminist slogan “Jin, Jiyan, Azadi.” For its criticisms against the compulsory hijab, the morality police and the Islamic Republic in general, the Woman, Life, Freedom movement has been intensely repressed by Iran’s current supreme leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei. Iranian security forces have killed more than 500 demonstrators and arrested thousands across the country.

“I say explicitly that these [Woman, Life, Freedom] riots and this insecurity were a design by the US and the occupying, fake Zionist regime [Israel],” Khamenei said in 2022, as reported by Al Jazeera. On a broader scale, Khamenei believes that the hijab is a religious and therefore, moral obligation. He further contended that gender equality is a Western plot designed to weaken Iran: “[The West] feel[s] that [Iran] is progressing towards full-scale power and they can’t tolerate this.” Because of and in spite of Khamenei’s deadly response, the Women, Life, Freedom movement gained international prominence, making the future of women’s rights in Iran an unavoidable and salient issue in the recent election. 

Two women attend a Woman, Life, Freedom protest wearing past versions of the Iranian flag. Taymaz Valley. CC BY 2.0

Masoud Pezeshkian, Iran’s newest president, campaigned on a reformist platform, asserting a desire to steer the nation toward greater peace. Now, after taking office in July, he has a chance to do so. For many nations that have tensions with Iran, having the moderate Pezeskian in office is cause for cautious optimism. Inside Iran’s borders, however, women are still reeling from the pushback Woman, Life, Freedom received two years ago and are thus more cynical about the promise of Pezeshkian’s election. “Although we might see more moderate approaches in bigger metropolitan areas, women across the rest of Iran will stay controlled by family customs and norms,” said Ruja Kia. 

As the only reformist in a field of six candidates, Pezeshkian’s positions on women’s rights stood out as the most progressive. Frequently invoking his daughter, a chemist, and the memory of his late wife, a gynecologist, he spoke of increasing women’s presence in the professional sector: “A woman is not a servant at home,” Pezeshkian wrote on X

Regarding the mandatory hijab, Pezeshkian has expressed support for relaxing the mandate:  “The behavior of Iranian girls will not change. Just as the previous [1936 laws] could not forcibly remove the hijab from the heads of our women, you cannot force them to wear the hijab by passing a law,” he wrote in another X post. But some, like Kimia Adibi, the President of UC Berkeley’s Iranian Students’ Cultural Organization, believe that  Pezeshkian’s words are empty promises. “[Pezeshkian’s] not actually pushing for women’s freedom and change because if he were, he never would’ve been allowed to run,” Adibi said to me. “Anyone who’s an actual radical reformist and believes in women’s freedom and not forcing the mandatory hijab… like, they’re not even going to make it to the candidacy level.”

A woman at a Woman, Life, Freedom protest. Matt Hrkac. CC BY 2.0

Pezeshkian’s parliamentary record shows that he’s supported restrictions on women’s rights in the past, and alongside the posts he made calling for women’s rights, he also posted to X, “All of us move towards dignity and power according [...] to the general policies of the supreme leader.” 

For Iranian feminists, the zeitgeist has not shifted. While it’s not impossible, they say, for Pezeshkian to achieve some reform — “little shifts,” as Adibi put it — so long as religion and politics remain married to an ultimate authority who violently rejects gender equality, women’s rights in Iran will not improve much under the new president. 

A Woman, Life, Freedom protest sign in Kurdish, English and Persian. Pirehelokan. CC BY 4.0 

“I’ll speak for myself,” Adibi said, “but I think most Iranians are not super optimistic about the direction of women’s rights under this president. And they won’t be under the next president, or the next president, under however many presidents until the supreme leader is removed from power.” 

When speaking with an admin from the Instagram account @irans.feminist.liberation, I found this feeling re-affirmed. “The future for women and minorities in Iran remains bleak,” she said, “unless there is significant internal pressure for change.


Bella Liu

Bella is a student at UC Berkeley studying English, Media Studies and Journalism. When she’s not writing or working through the books on her nightstand, you can find her painting her nails red, taking digicam photos with her friends or yelling at the TV to make the Dodgers play better.

The Truth about Geisha Tourism in Japan

Japan’s geisha have survived war and the turn of the century — unruly travelers may be the dying art’s final blow.

A geisha-in-training looks out at Gion, Kyoto. Satoshi-K. CC BY 2.0 

With her milky-white oshiroi, silky kimono and glossy bouffant, the geisha’s dramatic flair has left a lasting impression within the cultural imagination of Japan. Geisha, Japanese female entertainers, are regarded as icons of their country’s rich artistic heritage — it’s often said they exist in a sphere separate from the rest of us, in the dreamy, gossamer “flower and willow world.” However, from serving as factory workers during World War II to being popular (and controversial) visitor attractions today, there’s more than meets the eye to these revered performers, and they’ve come a long way from their medieval origins. 

“Japanese women in reading and writing” by Katsukawa Shunshō. The New York Public Library. CC0 

In Japanese, the word “geisha” literally translates to “art person.” Indeed, traces of the geisha tradition can be traced back as early as Japan’s Heian period in 794, when the country began to place a larger emphasis on poetry and beauty. This newfound appreciation for the fine arts set the aesthetic stage for the geisha’s forerunner, the courtesan, to come onto the scene. Courtesans were female performers well-versed in song, dance, conversation — and sex. Sex work proliferated throughout Japan as men illicitly sought connections outside of their wives, who were still held to Confucian ideals of virtue and modesty. In the 1600s, however, the ruling samurai outlawed prostitution to “clean up” Japanese society, confining sex work to “yūkaku,” or “pleasure houses.” But boxing courtesans out of mainstream society did not kill the industry — rather, consolidating these trained performers gave rise to a new, distinct culture of art and ceremony. 

Yūkaku evolved into spaces of entertainment, with women increasingly making their trade in song, dance and music rather than sex. A former prostitute first called herself a “geisha” around 1750, and many women followed suit. It is important to note that although many (both consensually and nonconsensually partook in sexual exchanges, geisha were not sex workers then and are not today. Geisha instead focused on being entertaining hostesses and conversationalists for their upper-echelon clientele and adept in traditional arts like the tea ceremony, calligraphy and flower arranging. 

The increasing popularity of geisha persisted well into the 19th century as the profession organized into a highly structured working class involving exclusive apprenticeships and patronages. Training started at a young age, as early as six years old (some children were sold by their parents to geisha houses or “okiya”). Girls spent years as “maiko,” or geisha-in-training, rigorously learning the traditional arts before making their debut. Old-fashioned courtesans declined in popularity as wealthy men increasingly found company in geisha, whose public perception became glamorized as a result. Until World War II.

Like nearly every aspect of Japanese life, the geisha industry was irreversibly changed by WWII. After leaving to aid in the war effort, many “maiko” did not return to their “okiya” after the war, instead choosing to remain in their industrial jobs. With the onset of WWII, becoming a geisha was no longer a girl’s only way out of poverty. Geisha dispersed, and the few that remained grew increasingly protective over their traditions. Some aspects of the trade changed — the training age was raised from six to 16, for example. But this general reclusion from Westernization and modernity contributed to geishas’ decline in the mid-20th century as men shifted their preference to other female entertainers like models and bar girls. But geisha remain popular among travelers, even receiving a popularity boost among Western audiences from Arthur Golding’s (in)famous 1998 novel “Memoirs of a Geisha.” 

Two geisha with a businessman. Herb Gouldon. CC0

There are still dozens of geisha districts, or “hanamachi,” across Japan that travelers can visit to experience traditional geisha entertainment and hospitality. In Tokyo, travelers can sample sake and listen to a “samisen” performance, while in Niigata, they can watch “geigi” dancing. But recently, geisha have called out visitors for overstepping boundaries, citing predatory behavior ranging from unsolicited photography to sexual harassment. As a result, Japan’s geisha mecca, Gion, banned non-residents from parts of the region this past March. 

“There will be a fine of 10,000 yen [$67 USD]” for nonresidents caught wandering Gion’s streets, Kyoto district official Isokazu Ota told the Associated Press. “Kyoto is not a theme park.”

As COVID precautions have been lifted over recent years, it’s as if people have forgotten how to act now that they can travel again. Several countries have reported instances of traveler misbehavior since easing travel restrictions. Some popular destinations have even implemented tourist bans of their own. However, Japan’s situation is unique as the misbehavior concerning geisha is rooted in a historic misconception laden with sexist undertones. 

Geisha are not sex workers. This widespread misunderstanding largely originates from World War II, as men returned home and spoke of their dalliances with “geisha girls.” Given that geisha were and are prohibited from offering sexual services, these men were likely talking about prostitutes and not actual geisha. But by conflating geisha with sex workers, these men began a lasting hypersexualization of geisha, degrading the women and debasing their culture in one fell swoop. Although some geisha did have sexual relationships with their clientele — both by choice and coercion — the misconception that all geisha did so still persists. These lingering sentiments contribute to the harmful thinking and behavior seen today, with visitors believing that it’s okay to treat geisha like zoo animals because they exist to please others, specifically men. 

In truth, there has been debate in recent years surrounding the sustainability of Japan’s geisha industry regarding its perceived incompatibility with feminist ideals. Some argue that geisha entertainment is contingent on the male gaze and that its business model is thus outdated and problematic. 

“I had clients slip their hands through the side openings of my kimono to fondle my breasts, and when in private rooms they’d open the hems of my kimono so as to touch my crotch. ” ex-geisha Kiritaka Kiyoha wrote on X.  “When I told the house mother about these incidents, she directed her anger at me, saying I was at fault.”

When considering their job description at face value, geisha are not inherently feminist. They wear intricate makeup, they learn art and conversation — all to please men. While there may be a self-empowerment aspect to it, they are ultimately catering to and capitalizing off of male interests. But therein lies the paradox: they are capitalizing. Geisha are some of Japan’s most financially independent women. Yes, perhaps this independence wouldn’t be possible without men there to buy their company, but geisha represent a distinctly female tradition of economic self-sufficiency, a feminist ideal some Western countries are still aspiring toward.

Of course, as Kiyoha reminds us, geisha being a time-tested practice doesn’t justify the predatory behavior that props it up: “I would like you to consider if [abuse and harassment] is truly what one would call traditional culture,” she continued on X. 

Gion’s traveler restriction is intended to protect geisha and restore dignity to their traditions, but there’s also a fear that it will expedite what many view as the dwindling profession’s inevitable extinction. It’s estimated a mere 1,000 geisha are still practicing in Japan, a far cry from its pre-WWII peak of 80,000. This steady decline, coupled with the bans, leaves many wondering where geisha and their dying art go from here. 

“I don’t want the geisha occupation to disappear,” Kiyoha said, but “the industry should rebuild, oriented in a better direction.”  

Geisha walks through Kyoto. Tawatchai Prakobkit. CC BY 2.0

Geisha are enigmatic by design, and it is crucial that the public remain interested in the culture and history underlying their time-honored trade. But more than relics of a bygone era, geisha are cultural guardians, and they are people. If/when travel to geisha districts opens back up, it is important to remember that their shroud of mystery is not an invitation for travelers to poke and prod and investigate — there are ways to learn about the culture without violating these women’s boundaries.


Bella Liu

Bella is a student at UC Berkeley studying English, Media Studies and Journalism. When she’s not writing or working through the books on her nightstand, you can find her painting her nails red, taking digicam photos with her friends or yelling at the TV to make the Dodgers play better.

Tourism Set to Reopen in North Korea

The controversial and most isolated country plans to resume tourism this December.

Panoramic view of Pyongyang. Joseph Ferris III. CC BY 2.0

After five years, North Korea is set to reopen its doors to foreign tourists. The country closed its borders in 2020 due to the COVID-19 pandemic but plans to welcome visitors again starting in December. Currently, only the northern city of Samjiyon will be open. Known for its winter activities, Samjiyon is still undergoing reconstruction. Located near the Chinese border and close to Mount Paektu—a sacred mountain claimed to be the birthplace of Kim Jong-Un’s father—Samjiyon was established in 2019. The town, which Kim describes as an “idealist socialist village”, was likely built with forced labor disguised as “volunteers”, given North Korea’s history of enslavement and trafficking. While Samjiyon is reopening, the capital city of Pyongyang has remained closed to tourists.

U.S. tourism to North Korea has been prohibited since 2017, following the death of Otto Warmbier, a University of Virginia student who was imprisoned in North Korea for stealing a propaganda poster. Warmbier traveled to North Korea with a tour group in 2016 and was sentenced to 15 years of hard labor. He was released 17 months later and died in a U.S. hospital just six days after returning home in June 2017. U.S. law reserves the right to revoke citizens’ passports upon attempted entrance into North Korea. While everyday citizens are forbidden from entering North Korea, visitation is not entirely banned, as the U.S. occasionally grants validation passports to professional journalists, Red Cross representatives and other citizens whose jobs serve national interests. South Koreans are the only nationality directly banned from North Korea, as the neighboring countries have been in a state of war since 1950. Today, approximately 5,000 Western tourists visit North Korea each year. Tourists from Russia and China—countries harboring more “friendly” relations with North Korea—are expected to make up the majority of foreign tourists.

Between 2010 and 2017, Americans could travel to North Korea year-round. Many have shared their experiences in Pyongyang through YouTube videos, articles and blog posts. As noted by several American tourists, self-guided tours are not an option in North Korea; itineraries are strictly followed. A recurring theme throughout these tours is the guides’ continual stress on their solidarity to the country's leaders, particularly Kim Jong-Un. The North Korean government uses tourism as a tool to showcase the country’s self-reliance, prosperity, talent and citizen happiness by guiding visitors through monuments, schools and museums. 

View of Ryugyong Hotel in Pyongyang. (stephan). CC BY-SA 2.0

Increased tourism could potentially lead to heightened political tensions. Many countries discourage travel to North Korea, not simply due to the inherent dangers, but because tourism revenue supports Kim Jong-Un’s regime rather than the local population. As of 2020, it was estimated that 60% of North Korea’s population lived below the poverty line. If tourism resumes, North Korea could earn nearly $200 million—a significant amount for a country with an economy largely isolated from international trade and exports. Koryo Tours, the most popular gateway to North Korea, is a travel agency based in Beijing that provides group tours to the country, sharing its history, politics, and culture. The tours are capped at twenty people per group, and tour leaders are claimed to have a “passion and interest for the country.” The debate surrounding the ethics of traveling to North Korea remains ongoing. As of now, we are left to observe what the future holds for one of the world’s most isolated countries.


Agnes Volland

Agnes is a student at UC Berkeley majoring in Interdisciplinary Studies and minoring in Creative Writing, with a research focus on road trip culture in America. She currently writes for BARE Magazine and Caravan Travel & Style Magazine. She is working on a novel that follows two sisters as they road trip down Highway 40, from California to Oklahoma. In the future, she hopes to pursue a career in journalism, publishing, or research.

Connecting with Culture: Embracing Food, Tradition and Language in Sri Lanka

With ancient Buddhist temples, stories of independence and deep-rooted traditions, Sri Lanka offers a South Asian experience unlike any other.

View from Elephant Sanctuary. Mira White.

The jewel of the Indian Ocean, Sri Lanka is recognized for its abundance of biodiversity and rich culture. Featuring vast rainforests, idyllic beaches and towering mountain ranges, the island is a hotspot for elephants, pink sand beaches and adventurous travelers. Its extensive history bridges the divide between the past and the present. 

Dambulla Cave Temple. Mira White.

Living with a host family in Colombo and working for the Sri Lankan grassroots organization, Gammadda, I was able to experience the authenticity of Sri Lankan local life. Sponsored by Brown University, I interned for Gammadda, a group that prides itself on being an initiative “for the people by the people” while traveling across the country to complete rural development projects. Regardless of whether I was with my host family, at the office or in a remote part of the island, I was continuously exposed to an outstanding variety of new cultures, customs and habits. 

My ten weeks living in Sri Lanka presented me with the opportunity to immerse myself in various facets of a culture older than any other I’ve experienced. Surrounded by Sinhala, spiced curry and tuk-tuks, I adapted to a lifestyle consumed by the language barrier, a diet of rice and, often, unpredictable transportation. Despite my unfamiliarity with Sri Lankan customs and traditions, I was always welcomed with kindness and understanding.

I arrived at the end of May, near the end of Sri Lanka’s Vesak Festival which celebrates the birth, enlightenment and death of Lord Buddha. The Colombo Bandaranaike International Airport was decorated with traditional flags and lights hanging from the ceiling. Upon my entrance into the country, I was greeted with warm welcomes and joyful smiles from coworkers and my host family, a testament to the real pride that Sri Lankans feel in welcoming internationals to their country.

Arriving at Colombo Bandaranaike International Airport. Mira White.

Living with a host family provided me with an intimate view of Sri Lankan life. Most mornings for the family began with the traditional Sri Lankan breakfast of rice and curry. At dinner, I was introduced to an array of rich spices and flavors and encouraged to try string hoppers, kottu and roti—so long as I could stomach food with intense spice— I could not. 

My host family took great joy in seeing me taste their country’s diverse cuisine and were often eager to share with me the components and history of each dish. Aside from the food we shared, they took pride in speaking Sinhala and Tamil around me, hoping I would catch on to some words. They were eager to teach me small bits of the local languages in order to make me feel more integrated into their world. By the end of my trip, I could confidently say that I was familiar with simple phrases and greetings. I was elated to hear someone say “kohomada”—how are you?— when they answered the phone. 

The hospitality of my host family extended beyond the dining table. They offered to take me on multiple excursions, highlighting places that showcased the island’s natural beauty. One memorable trip was to the Pinnawala Elephant Orphanage where I had the chance to see and touch elephants up close.

Pinnawala Elephant Orphanage. Mira White.

In the office, camaraderie among my co-workers was one of my most rewarding experiences. Colleagues helped me navigate office culture and even brought me to their homes to help dress me in a traditional Kandyan saree for formal work events, a gesture that made me feel deeply connected to those that I’d met in Sri Lanka and its local traditions.

Gammadda Colleagues. Mira White.

Beyond the office, co-workers were enthusiastic about sharing their local knowledge. They recommended must-see places and offered to accompany me on several outings to explore the island. They eagerly encouraged me to delve into local traditions and festivals. While on field site trips together, they encouraged me to try different foods and went out of their way to bring me to nearby sites to experience the natural richness of the island. Through their guidance, I gained a deeper understanding of the Sri Lankan business, cultural, and personal life that makes up the nation’s diverse tapestry.

Fieldwork took me to various parts of Sri Lanka, including areas severely impacted by poverty and climate change. The challenges faced by locals were stark—drought, erratic weather and economic hardship painted a sobering picture of life outside of Colombo. Despite the difficult circumstances under which I met those in rural villages, the warmth and gratitude of each individual was remarkable. My co-workers and I were welcomed into homes with genuine hospitality and kindness, often through the form of shared meals.

During projects for the grassroots organization I worked for, locals performed traditional dances and musical performances. These ceremonies provided a glimpse into their cultural heritage, underscoring their determination to preserve the connection to their roots against all odds. The people I encountered lived a life deeply intertwined with their faith and traditions. Their resilient authenticity stood in contrast to the struggles that they faced, demonstrating their profound strength and pride. 

Traditional Dance Ceremony. Mira White.

During one particular ceremony, I was asked to join project organizers and funders in lighting a ceremonial candle in tribute to the work done. This act had been a gesture of symbolic participation in local customs, connecting me deeply with this specific community and the challenges of its people. 

Candle Lighting Ceremony. Mira White.

Children in the Koleyaya community. Mira White.

This sense of community was evident in all of my interactions, whether with colleagues, rural children or just observing those on the side of the road. Sri Lanka’s allure as a tourist destination extends far beyond its picturesque landscapes alongside cities such as Kandy or Sigiriya Rock. The island’s cultural richness is reflected in its food, language and music, each of which tells a story of history and pride. Through sampling local cuisine, attending cultural festivals and engaging with the community, visitors are provided with deep insight into how Sri Lankans navigate the complexities of their environment while maintaining an exuberant spirit. 

In the face of its challenges, Sri Lankans have cultivated a culture of warmth and hospitality. For those who choose to visit the island, the experience is as much about understanding the cultural landscape as it is about witnessing breathtaking beauty. Sri Lankans’ deep-rooted cultural pride is matched only by their kindness, making every visitor feel like a cherished guest. Beyond its landscape, Sri Lanka offers an opportunity to immerse oneself fully in a culture that thrives on connection and community. The enthusiasm with which locals invite you to explore their traditions, participate in ceremonies, learn the language and experience their daily lives creates a unique journey that I have yet to experience anywhere else. Once you’ve visited Sri Lanka, you become part of a larger family that eagerly awaits your return. Truly, Sri Lanka is more than just the jewel of the Indian Ocean, for visitors, it becomes a home away from home—a transformative experience that will call you back to its shores. 

Families in Koleyaya village in Badulla District. Mira White.


Mira White

Mira is a student at Brown University studying international and public affairs. Passionate about travel and language learning, she is eager to visit each continent to better understand the world and the people across it. In her free time she perfects her French, hoping to someday live in France working as a freelance journalist or in international affairs.

Matcha's Roots: The Legacy of Japan's First Tea Tree

Explore Shofuku-ji, Japan’s oldest Zen temple, where the legacy of the first tea tree still thrives.

Shofuku-ji Temple. N yotarou. CC BY-SA 4.0

At the end of an unassuming street in Fukuoka, Japan stands the Shofuku-ji Temple. Its ancient grounds are a testament to centuries of cultural and spiritual history, particularly to the evolution of matcha, Japan’s iconic powdered green tea. Matcha is made from specially grown and processed tea leaves. The process begins with shading the tea plants several weeks before harvest to boost chlorophyll levels, resulting in its vibrant green color. The leaves are then carefully picked, steamed to stop oxidation, dried, and ground into a fine powder using traditional stone mills. Matcha's popularity outside Japan, especially in the U.S., experienced a surge in the early 21st century due to a growing interest in health and wellness globally. Its high antioxidant content, culinary versatility, and cultural appeal contributed to its widespread adoption in cafés and homes worldwide. 

Shofuku-ji Temple was founded in 1195 CE by the Buddhist priest Myōan Eisai, who is often credited with introducing Zen Buddhism to Japan. However, Eisai’s cultural influence extends beyond religion. Chinese legend dates the invention of tea to around 2737 BCE in ancient China. From China, the beverage was brought to Japan by a mission of monks, including Eisai, returning from a pilgrimage in 1191 CE. Upon arriving in Japan, Eisai cultivated the tea seeds in the Iwakamibo gardens of Ryozen-ji Temple, Saga. 

Shofuku-ji Temple Pond. Mark Pegrum. CC BY 2.0

These seeds, which produced the first tea plants in Japan, became the foundation of what is now known as matcha. The plant that stands at Shōouku-ji today, often referred to as "Japan’s First Tea Tree," is a direct descendant of those original plants, a living monument to the history of Japanese tea culture.

When Eisai brought the tea seeds to Japan, he was not merely bringing a new beverage, he was introducing a practice that would become integral to the Zen way of life. The preparation and consumption of matcha evolved into a ritualized practice that aligned perfectly with the principles of mindfulness and presence central to Zen. 

Buddha Statue. David McKelvey. CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

Referred to as “the way of tea,” the preparation of tea developed into an exercise of Zen devotion that honored the beauty which can be discovered in an otherwise flawed world. Author and tea expert Solala Towler has said: “It is a ceremony that takes the simple art of drinking tea to a sacred level, where the host and the guests share a moment of worship of the simple art of preparing and drinking of tea together, elevating them to a level of purity and refinement.”

The Jizōdō at Shōfuku-ji. MomoyamaResearch. CC BY-SA 4.0

The word matcha comes from the Japanese verb “matsu”, (to rub or to daub) and “cha” , (tea). In its early form, matcha was consumed as a medicinal drink. Eisai himself wrote about the health properties of tea in his book “Kissa Yojoki” (“Drinking Tea for Health”), where he extolled the virtues of tea for both body and mind. 

Eisai believed that tea could cure physical ailments and enhance mental clarity and spiritual well-being, making it an ideal companion for Zen meditation. He realized that drinking matcha improved his meditation sessions by producing a state of calm alertness, likely a product of the cognition-boosting interaction between matcha’s caffeine and L-theanine. Caffeine, a natural stimulant, provides an energy boost. However, caffeine alone can sometimes lead to jitters, increased heart rate, or anxiety. L-theanine, an amino acid found in tea leaves, counters this with its calming effect on the brain. It promotes the production of alpha waves, which are associated with a relaxed yet alert mental state.When consumed together in matcha, caffeine and L-theanine synergize to create a balanced effect. 

Shofuku-ji Temple. David McKelvey. CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

For centuries, the practice continued to spread throughout Japan, dispersing throughout all levels of society. Today, the matcha tea ceremony provides an opportunity for intellectual exchange, the sharing of knowledge and the continuity of tradition.

As was written in a collection of essays entitled “The Book of Tea” by Okakura Kakuzo, one of the first Japanese to advocate for the art of tea drinking, “Those who cannot feel the littleness of great things in themselves are apt to overlook the greatness of little things in others,” a sentiment that ties humility in oneself to the appreciation of others and their work, tea among them. 

A Sanmon at Shofuku-ji Temple. STA3816. CC BY-SA 3.0

Today, Shofuku-ji Temple remains a serene sanctuary where visitors can connect with the historical and spiritual origins of matcha. The temple grounds, with their carefully maintained gardens and ancient structures (including a Buddhist temple, a kitchen, a Zen hall, a bell tower, a sun and moon garden, a records hall, and more) provide a peaceful setting for reflection upon the past. Visitors can appreciate the tea plant, a living link to Japan’s first tea plants, and the enduring legacy of Eisai’s contributions to Japanese culture. 

Generally, Shofukuji Temple is not open to the public. If you are visiting as a group, you must apply one month in advance and receive permission from the temple, even if you just wish to tour the grounds. The application and a guide to the grounds can be found on the temple’s website. The temple is a nationally designated historic site that protects cultural assets and the continuation of the Zen tradition, so visitors are asked to proceed quietly and with care. Visitors may also be asked for a contribution to help protect and restore cultural properties. Applications received less than one month in advance will not be accepted.

GETTING THERE

Shofukuji Temple can be reached in a short walk from Gion Station and a 15-20 minute walk from Hakata Station in Fukuoka. Fukuoka is the sixth largest city in Japan and offers a variety of hotels and transportation methods for visitors.


Rebecca Pictairn

Rebecca studies Italian Language and Literature, Classical Civilizations, and English Writing at the University of Pittsburgh. She hopes to one day attain a PhD in Classical Archeology. She is passionate about feminism and climate justice. She enjoys reading, playing the lyre, and longboarding in her free time. 

Nanjie: A Living Memory of Maoist China

In the small Chinese village of Nanjie, residents live in a time capsule of the Cultural Revolution.

The East is Red Square. Nicolas Oddo. CC BY-ND 2.0

While China’s Cultural Revolution officially ended in 1976 with the death of  Chairman Mao Zedong, the more than 3,000 residents of Nanjie, in Central China’s Henan province, continue to live by the principles of Maoism. While the village is reportedly one of China’s wealthiest, having grown its economy by nearly 2,000 fold in just ten years,  workers in the village’s factory have agreed to accept a monthly salary of only about $400. In the 1980s, when the rest of China was opening up to the capitalist market, Nanjie chose to revert to the system of collective ownership taught by Mao.

Nanjie Commune Gate. Gary Lee Todd. CC0 1.0

Nanjie is small, comprising about two dozen factories and several main streets. Mao Zedong’s face is displayed all over the village in the form of billboards, posters and framed portraits. A giant statue of the Cultural Revolution’s late leader can be found in the middle of the town’s main square, the “East is Red” Square. On each side of the looming statue are portraits of four other famous communists: Karl Marx, Friedrich Engels, Vladimir Lenin and Joseph Stalin. North of the square stands the traditional-style Chaoyang Gate, decorated with a portrait of Sun Yat-sen.

In the square, a speech from Mao is played on a perpetual loop. New party members take their oaths in the square. On National Day, all couples in the village get married in a single collective ceremony and bow to the statue of Chairman Mao. As a wedding gift, they receive copies of Mao’s “Little Red Book.”

Nanjie Commune. Gary Lee Todd. CC0 1.0

The village's economy is dominated by collective ownership and management of all production and rationing supplies like coal, cooking oil, candy and even cigarettes. Residents are awoken each morning by “Dongfang Hong” (“The East is Red”), the de facto anthem of the Cultural Revolution, playing over loudspeakers. While some residents have chosen to leave the village in pursuit of capitalist success, many prefer the commune lifestyle free from the stress of higher living costs and housing loans. 

Exterior of Nanjie Commune Apartments. Gary Lee Todd. CC0

Interior of Nanjie Commune Apartment. Gary Lee Todd. CC0 1.0

Since the 90s, almost all village inhabitants have been living in collectively built apartments, with rent often funded by welfare. Every month, each resident receives vouchers of about $13 to cover the cost of food and groceries at the village’s commune-style supermarket. Locals also receive free healthcare and education.

Nanjie Commune Greenhouse. Gary Lee Todd. CC0

Nanjie even has a theme park dedicated to the history of the Chinese Communist Party, featuring re-creations of significant historical events and a $1.2 million greenhouse. The garden houses more than 500 flower species and 10,000 plants, as well as sculptures of animals like kangaroos and dinosaurs. Aside from the theme park and the greenhouse, the village also houses five parks, a zoo, a small artificial mountain set with bridges over a moat, a large swimming center and a grand mosque. While the village itself might be small, its historic, almost museum-like preservation, unique cultural heritage and the pride that locals take in their way of life make for a fascinating window into a bygone era.

GETTING THERE

Traveling to the collective is not difficult. From Zhengzhou, the capital of Henan province, buses (Y31; two hours) run south to Linying every hour between 6:40 am and 6:10 pm local time. From Linying it is a 1.2-mile walk south to Nanjie on the east side of the road. Taxi cabs are also available. Hotels are available in Nanjie and the surrounding areas.


Rebecca Pitcairn

Rebecca studies Italian Language and Literature, Classical Civilizations, and English Writing at the University of Pittsburgh. She hopes to one day attain a PhD in Classical Archeology. She is passionate about feminism and climate justice. She enjoys reading, playing the lyre, and longboarding in her free time. 

Is Climbing Everest Ethical? Why the World’s Highest Peak is in Danger

Pollution and overcrowding are making it increasingly controversial to climb the world's highest summit.

Tourists photographing Everest. Peter West Carey. CC BY-NC-SA 3.0

Mount Everest, the tallest peak in the world, attracts thousands of mountaineering tourists each year. Each of these travelers takes on significant personal risk, however, as climbers ascend the mountain its limited oxygen and the cold can lead to life-threatening conditions including frostbite, exhaustion and altitude sickness. Although approximately 4,000 people have successfully reached the top, Mount Everest continues to claim victims. The death toll varies annually; eighteen climbers died on the mountain in 2023 alone. Over the last century, more than 330 people have died on Everest. Not only is climbing Everest dangerous, but it has also become the subject of an increasingly controversial debate. A surge in climbers has led to overcrowding and significant pollution, with tons of waste left behind each season.

Climbing Everest has become more accessible in recent years, with 90% of climbers now participating in guided tours. These tours, often guided by members of the local ethnic Sherpa population, allow tourists without professional climbing experience to ascend Everest.. The two most popular routes, the Northeast Ridge and the Southeast Ridge, are now notoriously crowded during climbing season in April and May. 

Climbing Everest is costly. An $11,000 permit is required from the government, and total expenses typically range from $30,000 to $100,000. Despite the high costs, the revenue generated from this tourism does not substantially benefit the local community. The Nepalese government claims that Sherpa guides may earn around $6,000 per trip, cooks $2,500, and lead Sherpa guides up to $10,000. However, many believe that the Sherpa mountaineers are underpaid relative to the risks they undertake. Efforts are also underway to mitigate the environmental impact of Everest expeditions. Climbers are now required to pay a $4,000 deposit, which is refunded upon their return if they collect eighteen pounds of garbage. The economic debate surrounding Everest is nuanced. Though some argue that the Nepalese government should limit how many people can climb Everest yearly, the country relies significantly on Everest tourism for economic income.

Government officials assembled at Everest. Mark Horrell. CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

Everest has been dubbed “the world’s largest rubbish dump” due to the substantial waste accumulated over the decades. The Himalayan mountains are ecologically sensitive, and while the exact amount is unclear, thousands of tons of waste have been discarded on Everest. The mountain has also become a macabre resting place for deceased climbers. Roughly 200 bodies, many belonging to native Sherpa guides who died on the mountain, still remain on the path, and mountaineers must walk over them to reach the summit.

Get Involved:

Mount Everest Biogas Project aims to eliminate human waste at Everest, as well as convert waste into renewable energy (methane), which can be used to power local communities. Learn more about their work and donate here.

The Sagarmatha Pollution Control Committee (SPCC),founded by the local Sherpa people, aims to manage waste in the Khumbu Region. Learn more about their work here.


Agnes Moser Volland

Agnes is a student at UC Berkeley majoring in Interdisciplinary Studies and minoring in Creative Writing, with a research focus on road trip culture in America. She currently writes for BARE Magazine and Caravan Travel & Style Magazine. She is working on a novel that follows two sisters as they road trip down Highway 40, from California to Oklahoma. In the future, she hopes to pursue a career in journalism, publishing, or research.

UAE Activists Sentenced on Terrorism Charges

The United Arab Emirates has sentenced 43 activists to life in prison for their alleged participation in terrorist organizations.

Khalidiya, Abu Dhabi. Thomas Galvez. CC BY 2.0

In 2024, the UAE tried 84 defendants for terrorism charges for  "co-operating with al-Islah" and money laundering, individuals human rights groups have determined are activists and not terrorists. Al-Islah is considered to be the Emirati version of the Muslim Brotherhood, a pan-Islamic organization declared a terrorist group by the Emirates. In 2014, the UAE passed Terrorism Law No. 7. The law defines terrorism as, among other things, “stirring panic among a group of people” and “antagonizing the state,” a broad definition that makes it possible for peaceful dissent to be labeled terrorism. “Terrorist organizations” are defined as groups that act to create “direct or indirect terrorist outcome regardless of the … place of establishment of the group or the place where it operates or exists, or the nationality of its members or places.” Along with the passage of the law, the UAE state news agency announced that the cabinet had “approved a list of designated terrorist organizations and groups in implementation of Federal Law No. 7 for 2014.” Muslim organizations that operate legally in the United States and Norway were included on the list.

On July 10, 43 of the defendants were sentenced to life in prison, while 10 received 10 to 15 years in prison. Human rights organizations, including Human Rights Watch and Amnesty International, insist that the defendants are innocent and that the UAE is abusing its justice system to punish activists, government critics and democracy advocates for forming an independent advocacy group in 2010. In the UAE, these groups mainly advocate for freedom of expression and assembly, the right to a healthy environment and workers' rights, as well as an end to arbitrary detention, torture and the death penalty. 

The indictment, the charges, the defense lawyers and the defendants' names have all been kept secret by the government. They are known only partially through leaks. One of the known defendants, Ahmed Mansoor, is on the Board of the Gulf Centre for Human Rights (GCHR) and the MENA Division Advisory Committee for Human Rights Watch, and was arrested on charges relating to his human rights activities. Another, Mohammed al-Roken, is a human rights lawyer who was arrested on charges related to his peaceful criticism of the Egyptian and Emirati authorities. Yet another three, Nasser bin Ghaith, Abdulsalam Darwish al-Marzouqi and Sultan Bin Kayed al-Qasimi, are academics.

The mass sentencing marks the UAE’s second-largest trial of this nature. The proceedings and the verdict were criticized for the lack of transparency and fairness, along with various other allegations of violations of justice, including but not limited to torture, solitary confinement, withholding evidence from lawyers and the removal of key witnesses. Joey Shea, a UAE researcher at Human Rights Watch, called the sentencing a “mockery of justice”, saying, “The UAE has dragged scores of its most dedicated human rights defenders and civil society members through a shamelessly unfair trial riddled with due process violations and torture allegations.”

Authorities launched the new mass trial during COP28, the international climate gathering held in Dubai in 2023. The case had been ongoing since 7 December 2023, yet the UAE only acknowledged the trial was taking place a month after human rights groups and journalists first uncovered and reported it. A number of the defendants had already spent ten years behind bars after being convicted in 2013 for their alleged involvement with the Justice and Dignity Committee, a branch of the al-Islah movement. This has sparked protests that the Emirati authorities are violating the principle of double jeopardy, which prohibits trying people twice for the same offense after receiving a final verdict.

The mass trial reflects a broader trend of the UAE using its anti-terrorism laws to stifle dissent and suppress political opposition. Devin Kenney, Amnesty International’s UAE Researcher, said in a statement, “Trying 84 Emiratis at once, including 26 prisoners of conscience and well-known human rights defenders is a scarcely disguised exercise in punishing dissenters…This case should be the nail in the coffin of the UAE’s attempts to disguise its horrendous human rights abuses behind a progressive façade.”

The UAE government, however, has staunchly defended its judicial process, maintaining that the convictions were based on solid evidence of terrorism-related activities. Officials have argued that the country’s stringent laws are necessary to combat extremism and ensure national security. The court ruled that those convicted “have worked to create and replicate violent events in the country, similar to what has occurred in other Arab states—including protests and clashes between the security forces and protesting crowds—that led to deaths and injuries and to the destruction of facilities, as well as the consequent spread of panic and terror among people.”

Critics argue that the country’s use of anti-terrorism laws to quash political dissent is part of a wider pattern of repression. They point to other cases where activists, journalists and opposition figures have been detained and sentenced under similar charges, calling for greater scrutiny of the UAE’s legal practices and human rights record. The recent trial is a stark reminder of the ongoing struggle for human rights and justice in the UAE and the broader Arab world. The international community’s response to this case will likely shape the future of human rights advocacy in the region and beyond, as activists continue to call for greater transparency, accountability and fairness in the UAE’s judicial system.

TO GET INVOLVED

Emirates Detainees Advocacy Center: Emirates Detainees Advocacy Centre (EDAC) is a non-profit organization founded in 2021 by a group of human rights activists to support detainees of conscience in the UAE and shed light on their cases. Their website contains important information on cases in the UAE.

Amnesty International: Amnesty International is a global organization whose mission is to undertake research and action focused on preventing and ending grave abuses of these rights. Their website provides information on their projects and how to join their organization.

Human Rights Watch: Human Rights Watch (HRW) is an organization that investigates and reports on abuses happening in all corners of the world. They work to protect the most at risk, from vulnerable minorities and civilians in wartime to refugees and children in need. They direct their advocacy toward governments, armed groups and businesses, pushing them to change or enforce their laws, policies and practices. HRW's website provides information on their projects and how to join the organization.


Rebecca Pitcairn

Rebecca studies Italian Language and Literature, Classical Civilizations, and English Writing at the University of Pittsburgh. She hopes to one day attain a PhD in Classical Archeology. She is passionate about feminism and climate justice. She enjoys reading, playing the lyre, and longboarding in her free time. 

Big Brother is Watching: China’s Social Credit System

The nuanced nature of China’s social credit system has sparked global debate.

People walking through crowded streets in Shanghai. Rawpixel. CC0 1.0

Amid social and political turmoil, many are fascinated by order, hierarchy and control. One of China’s long-term goals is technological self-reliance, reflected in the country’s controversial social credit system. Millions of citizens are defined by and reduced to a numeric value, which is generated as their daily interactions and purchases are closely monitored. The system was predominantly economic—similar to a FICO score—until 2004, when President Jian Zemin expanded the system by adding a social aspect. The current social credit system was formally introduced in 2014, and by 2022, 80% of China’s cities, counties and regions had instituted some version of it.

The social credit system varies geographically. Some citizens receive a numeric score between zero and 1,000, while others are marked by a letter score from A to Z. The system is divided into four categories: business, social, government, and judicial. It operates punitively, rewarding citizens for good behavior and punishing them for bad behavior. A drop in one's score can come from traffic violations, littering and gossiping, while good deeds like donating to charity and assisting the elderly can increase it. The more points accrued, the more preferential treatment one receives, including discounts and travel perks. However, if a citizen's score is too low, they can be prevented from traveling or landing work. In 2019, millions of Chinese citizens were banned from buying plane tickets due to low social credit scores. China’s social credit system has been compared to the Black Mirror episode "Nosedive," which depicts dystopian society in which one’s worth is defined in relation to their portrayal on social media.

Surveillance equipment. Rawpixel. CC0 1.0

The government claims that the social credit system was instituted to “build trust” amongst citizens. However, the lack of privacy and blacklist perpetuated by the system has sparked global concern. Even by criticizing the government, your social credit score is lowered, and in some cities, the government pays citizens to report good or bad behavior. Recent studies suggest that the portrayal of China’s social credit system in the media is exaggerated. According to the MIT Technology Review, the system primarily functions as a comprehensive record of data, documenting companies’ financial histories. It is therefore less important as a single score than as a record.

The social credit system is only one aspect of government surveillance in China. The country’s firewall limits internet searches, and there are at least 200 million surveillance cameras installed that can use facial recognition software. China’s government operates without rule of law, leading to the abuse of power. Surveillance capitalism ultimately poses a threat to individual autonomy and democratic governance. The question remains as to how far it will spread in the coming years.


Agnes Volland

Agnes is a student at UC Berkeley majoring in Interdisciplinary Studies and minoring in Creative Writing, with a research focus on road trip culture in America. She currently writes for BARE Magazine and Caravan Travel & Style Magazine. She is working on a novel that follows two sisters as they road trip down Highway 40, from California to Oklahoma. In the future, she hopes to pursue a career in journalism, publishing, or research.

Afghanistan is Starving: The Ongoing Food Crisis Under Taliban Rule

Millions of Afghan children will suffer crisis-level hunger by the end of 2024.

Arid landscape in Afghanistan. Unsplash. CC0

Afghanistan has had no shortage of crises so far this year. Frequent flooding in the north and west in May and severe drought in January have triggered a monumental inflow of humanitarian aid, but despite the world’s best efforts, it appears that the fallout from these events will be seriously damaging for the already impoverished and oppressed citizens for the rest of the year.

Studies by Integrated Food Security Phase Classification, an independent global hunger monitoring organization, suggest that around 12.4 million Afghan citizens will be faced with food insecurity between June and October of 2024. Of those affected, just over half are children. In addition, 2.4 million citizens will experience starvation at emergency levels; this categorization is just above outright famine.

A variety of causes have been listed for the crisis. Back in May, flooding devastated many northern towns, affecting 60,000 citizens and reducing farmland to fields of mud. Based on weather patterns, these floods are expected to continue throughout the year, preventing any recovery of the farmland and causing a major decrease in domestic food production.

Additionally, an unexpectedly warm and dry winter has led to a lasting drought across the southern and western parts of the country. Although rainfall has increased somewhat in recent months, the arrival of the La Nina weather pattern in the fall is expected to bring even more dry, warm days. Although some farmland is recovering thanks to the brief respite provided by El Nino, much of the land is about to be confronted with a second round of drought conditions, further cutting down food production.

The most prominent cause of food insecurity, however, is the ever-present and ever-controversial Taliban government. Local currency has taken an alarming plunge while food prices, thanks to scarcity caused by the aforementioned environmental catastrophes, continue to soar. The Taliban’s apparent lack of concern for Afghanistan’s economy suggests that there will be no serious action towards rectifying the crash. Economic aid from foreign countries helps somewhat to avert the biggest fallout from the crisis, but the problem is virtually unfixable without changes in the regime's policies.

Regardless of how it began, the food crisis in Afghanistan is only getting worse—and fast. The country is alarmingly unequipped to pull itself out of poverty and hunger; action by charities and foreign governments is helping, but more is needed to prevent the looming threat of starvation. Hundreds of thousands of families are actively struggling to find their next meals, and millions of children will soon be forced to endure near-famine levels of food insecurity.

How You Can Help

Organizations such as the World Food Programme and UN Crisis Relief are actively supplying food to communities most impacted by the crisis. Estimates show that around $600 million are needed to ease the burden across the entire country. Other groups, such as UNICEF, are specifically aiming to feed and protect the millions of starving children and their families. There is no way to fix Afghanistan’s economic and political crises from the outside, but these organizations have already helped to feed and house countless citizens facing down these disasters head-on.


Ryan Livingston

Ryan is a senior at The College of New Jersey, majoring in English and minoring in marketing. Since a young age, Ryan has been passionate about human rights and environmental action and uses his writing to educate wherever he can. He hopes to pursue a career in professional writing and spread his message even further.

A Trip Through the Past: Japan’s Living Heritage on Sado Island

The historical music, performing arts and cuisine are kept alive on a tiny resort island off the Japanese coast.

A Noh performance onstage on Sado Island. Yoshiyuki Ito, CC BY-SA 3.0

Feudal Japanese history gave rise to one of the most fascinating cultures in the world. Decades of relative isolation on the islands of Japan allowed for a completely unique society to blossom, and the resulting art, music and performance is incredible to behold. Although the world has largely moved on from the 18th century, there are still small pockets of society that try to keep those cultures alive. And there is no better place to see Japan as it once was than on Sado Island.

Sado Island was not always beautiful. In the beginning, it was used as a prison colony for political exiles from nearby Japan. Around 1601, however, the territory's rulers discovered a massive vein of gold running through the island. This naturally led to a gold rush, which jump started the population of Sado. The mine lasted for over 400 years, closing at last in 1989. After this, the population began to decline, and now the island has gone from a mining hub to a lush resort.

Today, Sado is a massive cultural hotspot. Throughout history, Sado Island was a crucial trading base on the way to Osaka—this resulted in a huge number of cultures leaving their mark on the land over centuries. Ancient Buddhist shrines and feudal Japanese temples share space across the island, as architecture from all eras fills in the gaps.

The city of Shukunegi, for instance, has been around for over 400 years—it was constructed during the beginning of the Edo era in the 1600s. Many of the buildings were actually built from wood and stone brought by or recycled from the trading ships themselves. Many of these structures are still standing today, packed tightly together to form blocks of houses.

However, the heart of Sado’s cultural preservation comes in the form of its performing arts and music. Noh, a traditional style of Japanese theater, is typically performed in shrines, with the audience sitting outside around bonfires. The stages are open on three sides, with the back featuring a painted image of pine trees. The lead performer typically wears a mask, fashioned after the leading characters of the play (although they are also used to denote spirits and demons). There is nothing in the world quite like Noh, and Sado Island is one of the best places to watch these magnificent performances in person.

Another example of classic Japanese culture on Sado Island is onidaiko, which literally translates as “demon drumming”. These performances include masked dancers and the famous music of Japanese taiko drumming, which was traditionally used to ward off negative energy and spirits during rice harvests. Taiko is most prominent during the Earth Celebration, which takes place in the middle of August every year and lasts for three days of music, performances, and culture. The Sado Island Taiko Centre, where visitors can see taiko drumming year-round, is home to two of the biggest taiko drums in the world.

In addition to its vibrant culture and rich history, Sado Island is a simply gorgeous natural vista. It boasts over 170 miles of coastline, with everything from nearly 100-foot cliffs and volcanic rock walls to lovely beaches. The island is also home to a wide variety of rare plants and animals, including the toki, also called the crested ibis, an extremely rare bird that has become the unofficial mascot of Sado. Even if you’re more in the market for nature than culture, there’s an incredible amount of both to be found on Sado.

Sado has a large number of hotels all over the island, ranging in price from $99 to $500. The island is a wonderful travel destination year-round, but the best time to go is mid-August in order to catch the Earth Celebration.


Ryan Livingston

Ryan is a senior at The College of New Jersey, majoring in English and minoring in marketing. Since a young age, Ryan has been passionate about human rights and environmental action and uses his writing to educate wherever he can. He hopes to pursue a career in professional writing and spread his message even further.

In Mongolia, a Summer Festival for the Ages

For a few days in early July, the people of Mongolia eat, dance and play “the three games of men” during a storied festival called Naadam.

The 2012 Naadam opening ceremony in Ulaanbaatar. Carsten ten Brink. CC BY-NC-SA 2.0.

Mongolia is a country primarily known for its nomadic inhabitants and isolated location. Positioned between Russia and China, it is easily overlooked in the midst of these global giants. Its relative emptiness does not help matters; only 3.3 million people inhabit Mongolia’s 603,909 square miles , making it the least densely populated country in the world. But every summer, those 3.3 million come together in a celebration of sports, culture and Mongolia’s past. This celebration is called Naadam, and as far as festivals go, it is one of the last of its kind.

In ancient times, when Ghengis Khan and his horde of Mongols were inhabiting what would eventually become Mongolia, soldiers were selected for battle based on their skills in various sports. Wrestling, horse racing and archery in particular were activities that Khan believed a good soldier should, and would, excel at. Before and after battles, his battalions would organize and participate in sports competitions. These local competitions evolved into what Naadam is now. 

As a consequence of the 1921 Mongolian People’s Revolution, which brought the nation independence from China, Naadam’s essence was altered. It was officially sanctioned as a national holiday, with a date set in the second week of July. Mongolia’s capital of Ulaanbaatar became the home of “National Naadam,” the biggest and most important celebration of the holiday. Most importantly, the festival became less of a violent competition and more of a national celebration; an emotional change which remains today. 

Every celebration of Naadam features the three main sports of Mongolia; wrestling, horse racing and archery. All three sports have histories in Mongolia that are older than the country itself. For example: if a rock carving found in central Mongolia is anything to go by, wrestling competitions have been around in the county since the Bronze Age. Naadam features the grandest of all Mongolian wrestling competitions; up to a thousand or more take part in the Ulaanbaatar tournament. Before their matches, wrestlers often mimic local birds such as eagles, hawks and vultures. By doing well in the competition, wrestlers can receive titles based on these animals—“hawk of Ulaanbaatar,” for example, would be given to a wrestler who makes it to the final few rounds.

The final thing to note about Mongolian wrestling is the dress code, which is very particular. Wrestlers must don a four-sided hat, shorts, boots, and a shoulder vest that exposes the chest. The legend is that the open vest was put into practice after a woman snuck into the male-only wrestling competition in ancient times by pretending to be her father, and eventually won the competition. Such deceptions have been made impossible by exposing the chest of the wrestlers; to this day, Mongolian wrestling continues to be an exclusively male sport.

Naadam wrestling in the village of Tariat. Evgeni Zotov. CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

Horses are a large part of Mongolian life—nomadic tribes continue to depend exclusively on them for transportation. It follows that horse racing is extremely popular in the nation. According to Naadam’s official website, around 180,000 horses race during the holiday. All of Naadam’s races are very long in distance—at least in comparison to western competitions. The Kentucky Derby is about 1¼ miles long; a Naadam race can be up to ten times that.

Mongolian jockeys are incredibly wily and experienced; most Mongolians learn to ride a horse when they are just five years old. The jockeys treat their horses with incredible care. Before, after and even during the races, they are said to sing complimentary songs to their steeds.

The final sport of Naadam is archery, which is said to be even older than wrestling in Mongolia. Naadam’s official website hypothesizes that archery has been around in Mongolia since the Neolithic period, which ended in 4,500 BC. It was first used for hunting—later on, Ghengis Khan would employ it in his battles and sports competitions.

Male, female and child archers all compete at Naadam, wearing traditional costumes made of colorful cloth. There are three categories of the sport—Khalka, Buriat and Uriankhai—each of which come from different tribes and have different sets of rules. Only men are allowed to practice Uriankhai archery, for example.

While these three sports are the core of Naadam, the festival does not begin and end with them. There are smaller carnival games, singing and dancing. National cuisine is enjoyed; Khuushuur, a fried pancake with meat, is the most popular dish. Airag, a fermented, alcoholic drink made from horse milk, is also popular.

However, Naadam’s most important attribute is not the food, the history or the sports competitions. It is the fact that for a few summer days, the sparse vastness of Mongolia is filled. Whether in Ulaanbaatar or in a tiny village, Naadam brings Mongolians together to celebrate a culture that few in the world know anything about. This quiet happiness is the magic of Naadam; it is a magic that will continue long into the future.


Finn Hartnett

Finn grew up in New York City and is now a first-year at the University of Chicago. In addition to writing for Catalyst, he serves as a reporter for the Chicago Maroon. He spends his free time watching soccer and petting his cat

An Epic Motorbike Journey Through Northeast Vietnam

The Ha Giang Loop offers travelers a unique way to experience the natural beauty of Vietnam.

Mountain View on the Ha Giang Loop, Harper Noteboom.

Nestled against the southern Chinese border, the Ha Giang province serves as the great final frontier of Vietnam. The region is characterized by its striking limestone peaks, steep drop-off valleys and quaint roadside villages. Despite its natural beauty, its remoteness, at approximately 300 km outside of Hanoi, makes it less frequented among tourists. When I first embarked on my five-month solo trip through Southeast Asia, I had never heard of Ha Giang or the experiences it offered. But within a few weeks, I began to hear conversations about the region and the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to be a passenger on or, for the braver travelers, to drive a motorbike for three days through lush valleys full of hairpin turns. Despite these conversations, nothing could have prepared me for the life-changing experience of the Ha Giang Loop. 

In the pre-dawn hours, our overcrowded semi-sleeper bus from Hanoi pulled into the city of Ha Giang. By 10 AM the street outside Jasmine Hostel was full of eager backpackers and their motorbikes. Being an inexperienced driver I opted to hire an easier ride, a Ha Giang local who would drive while I sat on the back. I would quickly be reassured that this was the right choice when I saw the injuries that a crash can inflict. We were sectioned off into groups of 15 and hit the road. 

Traffic jam on the Bac Sum Pass. Harper Noteboom 

We spent the first few hours of our drive traveling north out of the city of Ha Giang and over the Bac Sum pass. The first of many steep and narrow passes, Bac Sum is a 4.3 mile stretch of sharp zigzag turns at an altitude of 1475 feet. I was immediately encapsulated by the stunning mountain peaks that rose around me and began to understand its common nickname “Heaven Gate;” I truly felt like I was transcending the Earth and moving up into the Heavens. 

Throughout the day we made several stops to enjoy the view, take a necessary break from sitting, and eat some lunch. As we pulled away from one of our stops, I suddenly felt the bike start to slow down and emit a horrible creaking sound. We came to a complete stop and I watched as the rest of the group sped past leaving my driver and me in their dust. Suddenly I found myself completely alone on the side of a mountain with a driver who spoke no English and had no way to contact my friends. Through lots of pointing, I was instructed to sit down next to the bike and wait while my driver walked off to call someone. As I was sitting wondering how far ahead my friends were, two little girls appeared from their small roadside village and began to show me the flowers they had picked. Without any verbal communication we were able to appreciate the beauty of their flowers together. These girls belong to one of the many ethnic minority groups in the Ha Giang region. The loop not only serves as a beautiful journey for adventurous travelers but also as a lifeline between small, isolated minority communities and the modern world. In this small interaction, I was reminded of the true reason I was traveling, to experience and connect with people and cultures that were different from my own. 

Roadside Village. Harper Noteboom

Eventually, the leader of my group returned and put me on the back of his bike, he turned to me and said “Hold on tight we need to catch up”. And just like that, I was on my way to our homestay for the night. We closed out our first day with a delicious meal of authentic H’mong cuisine and shots of rice wine, accompanied by a chant-like toast from the group leaders. 

Pass along the Dong Van Plateau. Sabourock. CC BY-SA 4.0

We started day two with a visit to Kings' Royal Palace, the home of the traditional leader of the Hmong ethnic group. The 19th-century mansion, built fully by hand, combines Hmong, Chinese and French architecture and serves as both a majestic home and a protected army base. The palace's harmonic design and original furnishings transport the visitor back in time and give a real glance into the life of the Hmong King. After indulging in a traditional Vietnamese coffee, we took a brief drive to Lung Cu Flag Tower. At over 35 meters tall, the octagon-shaped tower sits at the northernmost point of Vietnam and represents unity and independence for the country, offering a panoramic view across the Chinese border. After our morning of traveling back in time, we departed for what would be one of the most terrifying, gut-wrenching and inspiring experiences of my life, the Skywalk. 

Entrance to Kings' Royal Palace. Gavin White. CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

Describing exactly what the Skywalk is and what it truly feels like to be there is no easy task. The beginning of the trail is extremely narrow and hugs the side of a mountain while snaking along its exterior. The short walk itself is nothing compared to the destination. A massive mound of rocks stretches out over the edge of a cliff and seems so perfectly balanced that a single shift would result in the complete crumbling of the cliff and all the people on it. From the side, one long, narrow, flat rock extends out from the rest. While barely big enough for two people and high enough that a misstep would result in a deadly drop, there was a long line of eager backpackers waiting for their turn to cautiously creep out onto the rock. When it was my turn to go, I was overwhelmed with fear and even glancing down sent my stomach into my chest, but I carefully and slowly crept to the edge and sat down. As I looked out at the 360-degree view of the sharp peaks and luscious fields below me, I felt like I was truly the queen of the world. In this moment I had a realization, this is what traveling is all about, this is what life is all about; it’s about facing your fears to fully take in the beautiful world that we are so blessed to explore. The memory of this moment is one I return to often, and I revel in the euphoria of travel and the beauty of experience. 

Skywalk. Harper Noteboom 

I rode the high of that moment for the rest of our drive to the quaint village where we would stay for the night. The following morning, as a final send-off, we took a cruise down the limestone-crested Tu San Canyon before our long, bumpy, and admittedly very dusty journey back to the city before catching our even longer bus back to Hanoi. 

Tu San Canyon. Ryan Le. CC0 

As I reflect on these 3 marvelous days, there's no way to describe the life-altering effect that the Ha Giang loop has had on me. I never thought I would have the chance to soar through epic mountain ranges on the back of a motorbike with some of my best friends, but I’m overjoyed that I did and I urge everyone who is visiting Vietnam to experience the Ha Giang Loop. 


Harper Noteboom

Harper is a student at Pomona College majoring in Computer Science while exploring many interests in the liberal arts nature. Her worldly curiosity and passion for traveling took her to The Netherlands for High School and then on a gap year around Southeast Asia. Harper hopes to share the immense joy of traveling through her writing. 

Thailand’s Progress Towards Marriage Equality

After years of advocacy, Thailand may become the first country in Southeast Asia to legalize same-sex marriage.

A pride flag waving in the wind. Jamison Wieser. CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

Thirty-seven countries currently recognize same-sex marriage on a national level, and Thailand may soon become the 38th. On December 21, 2023, a package of bills including the Marriage Equality Act was introduced by the cabinet, and debates began in Thailand’s House of Representatives, the lower house of Thailand's legislature. This body resoundingly assented to marriage equality in late March, although it is not yet law.

The Marriage Equality Act would amend Thailand’s civil and commercial code, making many terms that refer to people gender neutral. If the bills pass the the Senate, and receive approval from the King, Thailand will become the third country in Asia and the first in Southeast Asia to legalize same-sex marriage.

Four hundred out of 415 members of the House of Representatives voted to pass the Marriage Equality Act on March 27, 2024. The Marriage Equality Act passed the first reading in the Senate with another overwhelming majority on April 2, 2024.

For decades, LGBTQIA+ laws in Thailand have not matched the country’s acceptance of LGBTQIA+ culture and travelers. Despite being home to many LGBTQIA+ spaces, such as bars and nightclubs, and serving as a destination for many to receive gender-affirming care, discrimination continues and many LGBTQIA+ rights in Thailand remain unprotected. 

While there has been progress in advancing LGBTQIA+ rights in Thailand with the passage of the Gender Equality Act in 2015, currently non-binary and transgender people’s identities are not recognized and LGBTQIA+ couples are unable to marry and struggle with adoption. 

The recorded history of the LGBTQIA+ community in Thailand dates back to the 14th century. These records include verbal accounts and murals depicting LGBTQIA+ relationships. However, in the 19th century, the criminalization of homosexuality and Victorian norms of propriety spread along with European colonialism in the region, although Thailand itself remained independent. 

This influence resulted in a cultural shift, as people began to equate sexuality with moral conduct and consider sexuality taboo. Despite this, Thailand has been famously receptive to LGBTQIA+ travelers, with the Thai Tourism Authority promoting Thailand as a “gay paradise”. 

As LGBTQIA+ visibility and activism have increased, Thai political figures have begun to follow suit, with the Pheu Thai party making marriage equality a main goal. Since taking office in 2023, the Pheu Thai party has been integral in moving Thailand toward equality for LGBTQIA+ people. 

The Marriage Equality Act will undergo its second and third Senate readings in July. If passed, it will be brought to the King for assent, and will then be established within 120 days, making Thailand a role model for the advancement of LGBTQIA+ rights.


Madison Paulus

Madison is a student at George Washington University studying international affairs, journalism, mass communication, and Arabic. Born and raised in Seattle, Washington, Madison grew up in a creative, open-minded environment. With passions for human rights and social justice, Madison uses her writing skills to educate and advocate. In the future, Madison hopes to pursue a career in science communication or travel journalism.

Fighting Femicide in Turkey

Turkey has long struggled to prevent violence against women, and Erdoğan’s withdrawal from the Istanbul Convention only worsened matters.

Protests after the murder of Turkish student Özgecan Aslan. 2015. Hilmi Hacaloglu. CC0

Femicide is a massive problem for women in Turkey. According to data from the women’s rights group We Will Stop Femicide, 338 women were murdered by a man between March 2023 and March 2024. The same data reports that the large majority of these women were killed by a close male relation, with the most common motive being their refusal to marry or have a relationship with their murderers. 

Recep Tayyip Erdoğan at the 2017 G-20 Hamburg summit. Пресс-служба Президента Российской Федерации. CC-BY-4.0

In March 2021, Turkish President Erdoğan announced his decision to withdraw Turkey from the Istanbul Convention, itself named after Turkey's largest city. The convention obligates political parties to “develop laws, policies and support services to end violence against women and domestic violence.” It also included clauses aimed at protecting members of the LGBTQ+ community from violence. 

The decision was met with outrage and criticism from activist groups, lawyers and politicians. Following the decision, thousands took to the streets to protest. Amnesty International Secretary-General, Agnès Callamard, spoke against the decision, expressing her concern that “the withdrawal sends a reckless and dangerous message to perpetrators who abuse, maim and kill: that they can carry on doing so with impunity.” 

International Day for the Elimination of Violence Against Women, 2019. Neslihan Turan. CC0 1.0

We Will Stop Femicide was founded in 2012 in response to the murder of an 18-year-old high school student, Münevver Karabulut, and has been one of the leading advocates of women’s rights in Turkey ever since. The group began an initiative to collect, analyze and publicize data on femicide in Turkey in response to claims from the government that no such data existed. They gather their data from cases reported to the public and cases reported directly to the group by associates of the victims. “Patriarchy is the reason behind the loss of so many lives,” the group states on its website. “The lack of efficient policies that secure equal existence and rights of women is also encouraging men who are prone to violence.”

A lawyer working with the women’s rights group We Will Stop Femicide, Esin İzel Uysal, stated that there has been a significant increase in femicides as a result of Turkey’s withdrawal from the Istanbul Convention, with authorities refusing to take action in the face of violations of women’s rights. As of 2024, almost 2,000 women have either been murdered by men or died under suspicious circumstances since Turkey’s withdrawal in 2021.

Women’s rights groups in Turkey such as We Will Stop Femicide continuously face opposition and oppression from the government. On December 2nd, 2021 the Intellectual and Property Rights Investigation Bureau of the Istanbul Public Prosecutor’s Office filed a lawsuit against We Will Stop Femicide aimed at shutting the group down, citing “illegal and immoral actions.” On September 13th, 2023, the court rejected the lawsuit. 

Women in Turkey continue to fight for their rights and their lives despite government opposition and police violence. In March 2024, thousands of women defied a ban against protests on International Women’s Day, seeking to draw attention to the rise of femicide in Turkey and voice their discontent with Turkey’s withdrawal from the Istanbul Convention. 

TO GET INVOLVED

We Will Stop Femicide: We Will Stop Femicide’s website lists several ways to support their cause, including producing visual materials for their social media and participating in the collection of data on violence against women.

Women for Women’s Human Rights: Another Turkish feminist group, WWHR initiated a Human Rights Education Program for women in 1995 that seeks to educate women about their rights and help them exercise those rights. Information about participation in the HREP program can be found here.


Rebecca Pitcairn

Rebecca studies Italian Language and Literature, Classical Civilizations, and English Writing at the University of Pittsburgh. She hopes to one day attain a PhD in Classical Archeology. She is passionate about feminism and climate justice. She enjoys reading, playing the lyre, and longboarding in her free time.