Pakistani Women Continue to Push for Societal Change

On March 8, Pakistani women’s rights activists took to the country’s streets for the Aurat March, which celebrates International Women’s Day and advocates for better treatment. The organizers of the protest immediately experienced backlash from the Taliban. 

Pakistani woman sitting with friends. Vicki Francis. CC BY 2.0

Pakistani women, despite the presence of the Taliban in the country, still organized and marched on International Women’s Day. The Aurat March included pushing for accessible health care, basic economic rights and equal opportunities for women. After the marches, the Taliban posted a forbidding statement: “We want to send a message to those organizations who are actively spreading obscenity and vulgarity in our beloved Pakistan. Fix your ways.” The Taliban accused participants in the Aurat March of insulting Islam. The group falsified photos and videos, signifying that protesters held the French flag.

The social media organizer for the Aurat March in Karachi responded to the Taliban’s accusations of “obscenity and vulgarity” on Twitter: “Their attempts do not and will not deter us. We will continue to organize and speak out against the violence we are subject to. We will continue to build political power and fight back.” 

Pakistan was ranked the world’s fourth worst-performing country when measuring women’s well-being and empowerment in their homes, communities and societies, according to the 2020 Women, Peace and Security Index. At least 28% of women aged 15 to 49 have experienced physical violence, according to the Pakistan Demographic and Health Survey. In the same survey, 40% of men agreed that it was acceptable to beat one’s wife under certain circumstances. With no national data for comparison, the scale of the violence against Pakistan’s women is difficult to gauge with other countries.  

The fight for women’s rights in Pakistan is not new. In 1983, over 200 women marched on the Lahore High Court in protest against former Gen. Zia ul-Haq’s discriminatory laws. In 1979,  Zia enacted the Hudood Ordinance, which required four male witnesses for an accusation of rape. Under this same ordinance, women who filed accusations of rape without without the proper witnesses could be sent to jail for adultery.

In December 2020, President Arif Alvi signed into law an anti-rape ordinance that approved the speedy trial of rape cases with women and children as victims. The ordinance also include the creation of a countrywide registry of sex offenders. The law came months after a rise in social outcry across Pakistan because of a motorway gang-rape incident. 

Inequalities are still seen between men and women in Pakistan through lower literacy rates, lesser wages and a smaller representation in government. Pakistan ranked 151 out of 153 countries on global gender parity, according to the World Economic Forum’s Global Gender Gap Report 2020. 

Despite the adversities facing women in Pakistan, they continue to organize and push for sweeping changes. In the words of Aurat March Karachi’s social media organizer, “Merely existing is a radical act of resistance.” 

Kyla Denisevich

Kyla is an upcoming senior at Boston University, and is majoring in Journalism with a minor in Anthropology. She writes articles for the Daily Free Press at BU and a local paper called Urban Media Arts. Pursuing journalism is her passion, and she aims create well researched multimedia stories which emphasize under-recognized narratives to encourage productive, educated conversation.

Ten Years After Nuclear Disaster, Recovery Remains Distant in Fukushima

The tsunami and ensuing meltdowns at the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear power plant forced thousands to flee their homes. A decade later, some locals have returned home, but full recovery remains remote.

A tsunami’s wreckage. UCLAnewsroom. CC BY-NC-SA 2.0.

Upon returning home after 10 years away, Masumi Kowata found a monkey in her living room. It wasn’t a joyful homecoming. In 2011, she evacuated her home along with 160,000 locals across Japan’s Fukushima prefecture. A cloud of radiation, spewing from three simultaneous meltdowns at the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear power plant, rendered swaths of land uninhabitable. Only in 2021 did the government allow she and her husband to return. Even then, it was only safe for them to visit for the day. Clad head to toe in plastic protective gear, she tread cautiously through the wreckage of an earthquake, a tsunami and neglect: a house shaken by earthquake, food left to rot for a decade, overgrown plants vining up the walls. The monkey had helped itself to Kowata’s belongings. It pranced around the room “wearing our clothes like the king of the house.”

A house under nature’s dominion. colincookman. CC BY-NC-SA 2.0.

Wild animals have overtaken “difficult-to-return” zones, as the government termed them. Such areas encompass 2.4% of Fukushima prefecture and experience 50 times more radiation than what is considered safe. Boars, raccoon dogs and macaques roam the dangerously radioactive neighborhoods oblivious to the damage but unfettered by human life. They can cross streets without fear of speeding cars and feed on the produce of untended gardens, long overgrown. Human beings have returned much more slowly. Currently, the zones remain stuck in time at the moment of disaster. 

The tsunami crashing through Minamisoma, Fukushima. Warren Antiola. CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

Agriculture struggles to recover as a result. Boars descended from the nearby mountains and invaded farms and rice paddies to feast on the crops. Hunters struggle to control the wild boar population. That is to say, they shoot as many as possible. “When I got married and was about to have my first child,” said one elderly boar hunter, “my mother said to me, ‘You’re going to be a father. Stop killing. Is that really the right thing to do?’ I stopped hunting then.” Now, he ventures out each day to beat back nature’s 10-year-long advance on Fukushima’s villages. “My town is abandoned and overrun with radiated boars,” he says. “It is my duty to help.”

The tasks of hunting down boars, tending to radioactive cattle and repopulating deserted towns fall to the few who have returned. Of the 160,000 who were evacuated after the meltdowns, only one-fourth plan to return. Most of them are elderly. The majority of evacuees found it easier to settle down elsewhere than endure a yearslong wait to return home. Young people especially favored big cities filled with jobs over their provincial hometowns, a trend that predated the disaster. In the nine years before the meltdowns, Fukushima’s population declined by 100,000. In the nine years after, it fell by another 180,000.

An elderly man with a picture of his late wife. Al-Jazeera English. CC BY-SA 2.0.

Local communities feel the absence of locals. As residents begin to plan for the future, they struggle to build a new community amid the ruins of an old one. Ancestral homes sit empty. Classrooms are frozen in time at the moment of the tsunami. Farmers spent generations breeding prized lines of livestock which are now useless. Radiated cattle, horses and pigs—as well as hunted boar—cannot be consumed because of radiated meat. Once famous for its produce, the prefecture’s fruits and vegetables now sell for below the national average. Though radiation tests ensure that the food is safe to eat, the stigma of nuclear disaster keeps customers away. 

Hope Tourism seeks to make these ruins the foundation of the future. The group offers tours through areas that reflect both the devastation wrought by the nuclear disaster and the communal efforts toward reconstruction. Tourists see the abandoned elementary school in Ukedo, roads bent out of line by the tsunami’s rip current and black bags filled with radioactive soil. They can also tour villages trying to revive their local industries and meet community leaders who spread awareness about the dangers of nuclear fallout. 

Where to put radioactive waste? UCLAnewsroom. CC BY-NC-SA 2.0.

In the face of hardship, locals still express pride in their roots. Iitate village joined the exclusive club of “most beautiful villages of Japan” in 2010, only to be wrecked by the tsunami and ensuing meltdowns. Ten years later, locals gathered to celebrate the opening of a new community center. It was built from parts of abandoned buildings: windows from old businesses, doors from run-down houses, a chalkboard from a school with no children to attend. An elderly woman in a green kimono sang folk tunes while the crowd enjoyed chestnut-filled rice balls. The Hope Tourism website states the village’s motto is a single word: madei. It means “thoughtfully” or “wholeheartedly” in the local dialect. It refers to the steady, persistent progress toward a revived community. 

An abandoned building. Patrick Vierthaler. CC BY-NC 2.0.

The fight against nature’s invasion of Fukushima’s villages still preoccupies recently decontaminated zones. The national government branded the upcoming Olympics as the “Recovery Olympics” to highlight the region’s progress since the disaster. The Olympic torch relay will begin at Fukushima’s J-Village sports complex, which workers used as a base during the crisis in 2011. Japan will need to escape the shadow of the Fukushima disaster if the government is to accomplish key items on its agenda. Prime Minister Yoshihide Suga pledged a carbon neutral Japan by 2050, an unthinkable prospect without nuclear power. 

A radioactive bouquet. Abode of Chaos. CC BY 2.0.

National priorities rarely concern those repopulating Fukushima, though. They focus on the day-to-day resurrections of ghost towns. Some still search for ghosts. “I often tell people that my daughter would be a very independent and successful adult out in the world,” says one man. He lost his entire family in the tsunami, including his young daughter. “She was the type of girl other people could rely on.” With a shovel, a trowel and his gardening gloves, he digs through the soil for his daughter’s remains. “I’ve found about 20% of her, but 80% is still missing,” he says. “That means she’s definitely still here.”

Radiated livestock are marked with a white symbol that tells farmers the animal was affected by the 2011 meltdowns. There is no such symbol for the psychic wounds that Fukushima’s disaster continues to exact on its people. 

Michael McCarthy

Michael is an undergraduate student at Haverford College, dodging the pandemic by taking a gap year. He writes in a variety of genres, and his time in high school debate renders political writing an inevitable fascination. Writing at Catalyst and the Bi-Co News, a student-run newspaper, provides an outlet for this passion. In the future, he intends to keep writing in mediums both informative and creative.

Just How Successful Is China's War on Poverty?

China announced in February that it has eradicated extreme poverty. Yet, how should extreme poverty be defined, and is the Chinese government really doing enough in the fight?

A dilapidated building in a rural area of Guangxi autonomous region in southeastern China. President Xi’s poverty eradication program targeted China’s rural poor. Edwin Wisse. CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

On Feb. 25, Chinese President Xi Jinping announced that China has successfully eliminated extreme poverty. The declaration comes after a lengthy campaign initiated by the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) that claims to have lifted an estimated 100 million people out of poverty in just eight years. President Xi's announcement is a major victory for the CCP, which is celebrating its centennial later this year. 

If true, China’s poverty alleviation campaign could become a model of success for developing nations on how to eradicate extreme poverty in rural areas. However, just how comprehensive the program was in fully eliminating extreme poverty is debated, with critics questioning China’s measure of poverty itself. The World Bank defines extreme poverty as living on less than $1.90 a day; China’s threshold is slightly lower at about $1.52 per day. Regardless, China has made immense progress in the past 30 years in reducing the number of people living in poverty, even by World Bank standards. In 2016, the percentage of Chinese people living below $1.90 a day was only 0.5% of the population, compared to 66% in 1990. 

While impressive, China’s declaration has garnered criticism for using a metric of poverty that does not adequately reflect the level of deprivation that remains. China has experienced rapid growth since the country introduced market reforms back in the late 1970s. Since 1978, China has averaged 9% real growth per year, higher than other rapidly developing Asian economies, according to the International Monetary Fund. Due to this rapid growth, China is now considered an upper-middle-income country by the World Bank. Under this classification, extreme poverty would be measured as living on under $5.50 a day, which accounts for 14% of the population, or roughly 200 million people. 

Chinese President Xi Jinping meeting with World Bank President Jim Yong Kim in 2014. World Bank Photo Collection. CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

With continued economic growth, a relatively successful battle against the coronavirus, and now at minimum a vast reduction in extreme poverty, Chinese officials hope to argue that their system of governance is more successful for international development than the West. China exports more than just commodities. As its rise to global superpower status becomes imminent, its influence outside of Asia continues to grow. In 2018, China announced the Global Poverty Reduction & Inclusive Growth Platform, providing a basis for developing countries to fight their own wars against poverty.

Whether or not President Xi was actually successful in eradicating extreme poverty in China remains to be seen. With the COVID-19 pandemic causing global poverty to rise for the first time in 20 years, the CCP hopes that its model inspires other countries to follow its path. In the meantime, China may bring the world one step closer to finally solving the puzzle of poverty. 

Aerex Narvasa

Aerex is a current student at Occidental College majoring in Diplomacy and World Affairs with a minor in East Asian Studies. He is passionate about sharing people’s stories through writing, and always strives to learn about new places and cultures. Aerex loves finding new music and exploring his hometown of Los Angeles in his free time.

Iran’s Shoddy ‘Satellite Cities’ Test Citizens’ Patience

Thanks to high rent prices and overpopulation, thousands of Iranians have been forced out of their hometowns. But the “satellite cities” built to hold them leave much to be desired. 

An aerial view of Tehran, Iran. Hansueli Krapf. CC BY-SA 3.0

In the 1980s, Iran intentionally tried to grow its own population, aiming to increase its military strength amid the Iran-Iraq war. The 1979 Islamic Revolution had seen Iran’s old monarchy overthrown and a new republic built on Shiite Islam take shape. Student groups and leftist organizations rejoiced at the new rights promised to women; Islamist groups lauded the fact that their country was now a theocracy. But the new government wanted to ensure that the ideas of the revolution would last beyond one generation. So it encouraged polygamy, made birth control nearly impossible to find and lowered the age of marriage to 9 for girls and 15 for boys.

The plan worked—Iran’s population grew enormously. Forty years after the revolution, there are almost 50 million more people living in Iran. But these newcomers are not a new generation of happy, loyal citizens. They are people who the nation was not built to hold. 

Overpopulation was not something Iran was completely unprepared for. Soon after the revolution, 17 new “satellite cities” were planned on the outskirts of the country's major cities. They had names like Pardis (“paradise” in Persian) and Parand ("silk"). They were to provide affordable places to live for people that the larger cities could not hold. But as Iran struggled with unrest and war, these cities wouldn’t begin to be built for decades. They remain half-finished even today.

The Mehr housing project in Nishapur, Iran. Sonia Sevilla. CC BY 1.0

In 2007, the Iranian government developed a scheme it hoped would solve the overpopulation problem and make the satellite cities more livable: contract out free land to real estate developers who were willing to build low-income housing units. In this way around 2 million homes were planned to be built throughout Iran. But the Mehr housing project, as it was called, failed to deliver in the cities that needed housing the most. The 400,000 units built were poorly constructed and lacked essential utilities, like plumbing and clean water. The sterile white color that all the high-rises were painted with in Pardis says it all. These buildings didn’t seem like they were meant to be lived in, only passed through. 

But the satellite cities are indeed lived in. In recent years, the overpopulation that plagues Iran’s largest cities has only gotten worse. The Financial Times reported in 2017 that the population of Tehran, Iran’s capital and largest city, “exceeds the optimum level by more than 70%.” The air is full of pollution, and the city’s roads are packed with traffic. But the last straw for many Tehranis is the cost of housing, which according to the New Yorker has more than doubled in the last three years. U.S. sanctions have contributed to this, as did former President Donald Trump’s decision to withdraw from the Iran nuclear deal. With nowhere else to go, droves of Iranians have moved to the satellite cities, where houses are cheaper. In 2019, the population of Parand was 100,000; a year later, that number had doubled.

The unfinished cities have been unable to provide jobs for their populations. Most of the people who make up Pardis must commute each day to work in Tehran. And, as the city lacks most forms of public transport, this means driving—sometimes up to three hours each way. The cities lack recreational areas, stores and the capabilities to provide health care and schooling to their growing populations. It’s no surprise that drug abuse and suicides are common in the cities.

Real estate prices remain high in congested Tehran, and more and more people are expected to leave. The people who make up these satellite cities, despite the lack of basic amenities, are grateful that they have a place to go at all. The Mehr housing project is not finished, and it is possible that in five years the livability of Tehran’s satellite cities will improve. But it is up to the Iranian government to ensure that these improvements do happen, and soon. The well-being of many Iranians depends on it.

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.

7 Stunning Spots in Bangladesh, South Asia’s Most Verdant Country

Known for its lush greenery and fascinating sites, Bangladesh offers many exciting opportunities to travelers. 

The Sundarbans in Bangladesh. USAID Biodiversity and Forestry. CC BY-ND 2.0

Bangladesh is a South Asian country that borders India and Myanmar. Originally referred to as East Pakistan after the partition of India in 1947, Bangladesh eventually gained independence from Pakistan in 1971. Although the country is not on many visitors’ radars, Bangladesh boasts both spectacular natural beauty and a rich culture. Here are seven destinations that travelers should check out when visiting Bangladesh. 

1. Sundarbans Mangrove Forest

A Bengal tiger in Bangladesh’s Sundarbans mangrove. Anindya Majumder. CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

If one could only visit only a single attraction in Bangladesh, this would have to be it. The Sundarbans mangrove forest is located where the Brahmaputra and Ganges rivers meet the Bay of Bengal. It is the largest mangrove forest in the world and became a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1997. The forest is well-known for its variety of flora and fauna, most notably the endangered Bengal tiger. Other animal sightings that travelers can look forward to on their visit include spotted deer, rhesus macaque monkeys and a variety of waterbird species, including egrets and herons. 

2. Dhaka

Boats in Bangladesh. Kuruman. CC BY 2.0

Travelers are likely to spend some time in Dhaka, as it is Bangladesh’s capital, largest city and travel hub. The city is a densely populated metropolis with some of the worst traffic in the world. Beyond the hectic rickshaw-filled streets, there are many exciting activities in the Bangladeshi capital, including watching boats dock at the Sadarghat river port, paying a visit to the Ahsan Manzil palace and museum, and touring the Baitul Mukarram Mosque, one of the largest in the world. Dhaka is also a wonderful place to explore traditional markets and sample Bangladeshi cuisine.

3. Cox’s Bazar Beach

A beach sunset in Bangladesh. Lonely explorer. CC BY 3.0

This is one of Bangladesh’s most beautiful beaches. Stretching over 75 miles, Cox’s Bazar is the longest uninterrupted sea beach in the world. The beach becomes less crowded the farther south one travels down its banks. Off the coast of Cox’s Bazar Beach is Maheshkhali Island, a pilgrimage point for Muslims, Hindus and Buddhists alike. Another nearby location is St. Martin’s Island, the only coral island in Bangladesh. Located at the southernmost tip of the country, St. Martin’s Island provides wonderful swimming and snorkeling opportunities. 

4. Panam Nagar

The ghost town of Panam Nagar. Nurul Amin Russel. CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

Located 18 miles southeast of Dhaka, this town was well known for its textile production and Hindu merchant community. Panam Nagar was destroyed in a fire and the town remains deserted to this day. Although the exact dates and cause of the fire are still unknown, the large number of textiles stored in the town’s buildings could likely have caused it. 

 



5. Paharpur 

The Somapura Mahavihara monastery in Paharpur, Bangladesh. Stefan Krasowski. CC BY 2.0

Paharpur is one of three UNESCO World Heritage Sites in Bangladesh and was added to the list in 1985. Located in the northern part of the country, Paharpur contains the most important archaeological site in Bangladesh, an ancient Buddhist monastery called Somapura Mahavihara. The monastery is the second-largest structure of its kind south of the Himalayas and contains 177 monastic cells with a large shrine located in the middle. The monastery was a center of learning where the practice of Mahayana Buddhism flourished from the seventh to 12th centuries. It was further known for influencing Buddhist architecture in other parts of Asia, including Cambodia’s Angkor Wat temple. Paharpur is also one of the best examples of pre-Islamic architecture in Bangladesh. 

6. Srimangal

A woman picking tea in Bangladesh. Mariusz Kluzniak. CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

Srimangal is a small town located in the northeast of Bangladesh. Well known throughout the country for its tea production, a visit to Srimangal makes an excellent opportunity to learn about one of Bangladesh’s largest industries. Travelers can explore some of the 163 tea plantations that dot Srimangal’s hilly landscape and enjoy local brews straight from the source. 


7. Bagerhat

The Shait Gumbad Mosque with 77 domes in Bagerhat. Joe Coyle. CC BY-NC 2.0

The Bagerhat district in the southwestern part of Bangladesh is home to the ancient city of Khalifatabad, which was founded by Turkic general Ulugh Khan Jahan in the 15th century. A UNESCO World Heritage Site, the city contains excellent examples of an early Islamic architectural style known as Khan-e-Jahan. The site includes 360 buildings such as mosques, public buildings, mausoleums, bridges and more. Unfortunately, the city’s location at sea level makes it vulnerable to rising seas, making cultural preservation a huge priority. 

From its beautiful beaches to a fascinating history, Bangladesh makes a wonderful destination for travelers ready to visit a less-discovered piece of South Asia. 

Megan Gürer

Megan is a Turkish-American student at Wellesley College in Massachusetts studying Biological Sciences. Passionate about environmental issues and learning about other cultures, she dreams of exploring the globe. In her free time, she enjoys cooking, singing, and composing music.

Philippines Moves to Protect Children from Sexual Abuse

The Philippines passed a new law to raise the age of consent. The change could go a long way toward protecting the country’s most vulnerable children. 

Children on the street. Beegee49. CC BY-ND 2.0.

The Philippines’ House of Representatives recently passed a new law that would raise the age of consent from 12 to 16. Long among the world’s lowest ages of consent, lawmakers hope the change will protect children from sexual predation. In recent decades, the Philippines has become a global hub of child sexual exploitation. Though the new law will improve protections for victims of abuse, long-lasting effects of sexual predation will be felt for years to come. 

The age of consent was decided in 1930 in the Revised Penal Code at 12 years old, the product of what is widely considered a culture of patriarchy. At such a low age, sexual acts against children were almost impossible to prosecute in court. Defendants could claim sex with a child was consensual because they were both above the age of consent. Under this code, defendants could escape a rape verdict if they offered to marry their victim. 

In recent years, sexual abuse against minors has seen a massive increase across the Philippines. Experts say the number of IP addresses used for streaming child pornography has risen from 23,333 in 2014 to 81,723 in 2017, a 250% increase. Cases of HIV/AIDS among minors have been increasing steadily over a similar period of time. Of all rape victims, 70% are children, the vast majority girls. As a result, girls as young as 14 are becoming pregnant at higher rates. 

Campaigners for the bill long argued that children needed far more protections than the Philippines’ legal system granted. The law that would raise the age of consent also contains measures to harshen penalties for rape, sexual exploitation and abuse as well as shift the burden of proof of consent from the victim to the offender. The new law passed the House of Representatives with 207 votes and only 3 opposing; it is expected to pass the Senate just as easily. 

A family making ends meet. FotoGrazio. CC BY-NC-ND 2.0.

Increased data collection has painted a clearer picture of the issue in recent years. International advocacy helped focus lawmakers’ attention on the issue, but it also revealed the lack of resources the Philippines suffers from in combating sex crimes. Sixty-four percent of online abuse cases were initiated by foreign authorities who traced crimes back to the country.

Online sexual abuse afflicts more children today than it ever has. A combination of widespread poverty and COVID-19 lockdowns has rendered the practice rampant in recent months. Poor families were disproportionately harmed by lockdowns, causing a small number of families to resort to online abuse. Predators from foreign countries—mainly the United States, Canada, Europe and Australia—pay facilitators to sexually abuse children, directing the abuse themselves via a livestream. 

The facilitators often include immediate and extended family. In 90 cases involving 381 victims from 2011 to 2017, 43 were abused from two months up to two years. Half were arranged by parents or extended family. The average age of victims was 11. The youngest victim was less than 1. 

The Philippine government plans to implement additional measures to address the conditions that make child sexual abuse so prominent. The Philippine Plan of Action to End Violence Against Children, begun in 2017, campaigns for children’s rights and was partially responsible for raising the age of consent. The U.S. Department of State classifies the Philippines as Tier 1 for fully complying with the Trafficking Victims Protections Act. For the time being, raising the age of consent marks another crucial step in combating sexual exploitation.

Michael McCarthy

Michael is an undergraduate student at Haverford College, dodging the pandemic by taking a gap year. He writes in a variety of genres, and his time in high school debate renders political writing an inevitable fascination. Writing at Catalyst and the Bi-Co News, a student-run newspaper, provides an outlet for this passion. In the future, he intends to keep writing in mediums both informative and creative.

South Korea Loves Its Mountains

Climbing the country’s many mountains is a national pastime. South Korea’s tranquil scenery allows hikers of all skill levels to escape the worries of the modern world.

Two hikers at Seoraksan. Tasmanian.Kris. CC BY-NC-SA 2.0.

If you go to South Korea, bring hiking gear. Lots of it. More so than in the United States, hiking is a communal exercise and a great to-do. A pair of sneakers and a water bottle won’t cut it when trekking up Seoraksan, a mountain located three hours from Seoul. Hikers, whether amateur or professional, purchase a catalog’s worth of clothing for even a short afternoon hike. In addition to the equipment, bring an appetite. Food, along with a little rice wine, will be served once—at the very least.

Hiking is less of a hobby and more of a national pastime for South Korea. Two-thirds of South Koreans climb a mountain at least once a year, and almost a third go once a month. Companies that make hiking equipment find a lucrative market in the country, since retailers have estimated that the average hiker wears $1,000 worth of gear for each trek. South Korea’s 22 national parks see roughly 45 million visitors a year.

There are many reasons why climbing mountains is such a widely enjoyed pastime. For one, they’re everywhere. Most people live within an hour or two of a hiking trail. Subways and buses provide easy transport, not to mention that multiple hiking groups offer group expeditions. Beginning in 1967, South Korea began setting aside its many mountains as national parks. By the end of the 1980s, over 2,000 square miles had been designated as national parks. This amounts to 6% of South Korea’s landmass. 

The sun shines on Dobongsan. Giuseppe Milo. CC BY 2.0. 

Mountains figure prominently in national myths as well. Dangun, the mythical founder of Korea, is said to have been born on Mount Paektu, along the border between China and North Korea. The mountain is mentioned in the national anthems of both North and South Korea. Additionally, South Korean culture values “pungsu,” a practice similar to feng shui, that emphasizes harmony with nature. With mountains located so close to big cities like Seoul, they provide a picturesque respite for hard workers. 

South Korea’s fall foliage. Brandon HM Oh. CC BY-NC-ND 2.0.

However, only recently did the mountains attract as many mountaineers as they do now. Park Chung-hee, president in the 1960s and ‘70s, encouraged businesses to lead employees on group hikes as a community-building tool. The residual effects of this policy are still widely felt. A long lunch break often provides enough time for a quick trek. Many trails shoot straight to the peak before climbing down, allowing for brisk and efficient exercise. This may be annoying for  many enthusiasts who want to savor the panoramic views the mountains offer.

A hike through Bukhansan. golbenge. CC BY-SA 2.0.

Citizens have plenty of mountains to choose from, such as those in the Taebaek and Sobaek ranges. Seoraksan, South Korea’s third-tallest peak at 5,600 feet, takes only three hours to climb, and fiery fall foliage attracts many to this mountain in particular. However, its beauty is nearly matched by other peaks. For example, Bukhansan gives urbanites in Seoul a chance to unwind in the great outdoors. Located just outside the city, it is affectionately called the “lungs of Seoul.”

The Taebaek Mountains in winter. mariusz kluzniak. CC BY-NC-ND 2.0.

South Korea’s hiking culture is visible even among those who emigrate. In Southern California, South Korean immigrants often don the same gear for hiking Runyon Canyon in Los Angeles that they would for Seoraksan. Backpacks bulge with Tupperware stuffed with South Korean delicacies for a midday picnic. For these hikers, traveling the trails is more than a hobby. It’s a way of keeping a precious national tradition alive. 

Michael McCarthy

Michael is an undergraduate student at Haverford College, dodging the pandemic by taking a gap year. He writes in a variety of genres, and his time in high school debate renders political writing an inevitable fascination. Writing at Catalyst and the Bi-Co News, a student-run newspaper, provides an outlet for this passion. In the future, he intends to keep writing in mediums both informative and creative.

Nonprofits Reach Syrian Refugee Children Through Education

As the Syrian refugee crisis enters its 10th year, children continue to suffer from mass displacement and a lack of educational opportunities. 

Syrian primary schoolchildren. DFID. CC2.0

The Syrian refugee crisis is considered by many to be the most urgent humanitarian crisis of the decade. Since 2011, the conflict has displaced 11 million people through the destruction of countless homes, hospitals, schools and public buildings. An equally large number of Syrians require humanitarian assistance, over half of them being children. Many of these young children lack safe spaces to play, face childhood neglect and have witnessed horrific violence in their lives. Numerous children are at risk of developing toxic stress, which is a biological response that impedes growth and development when humans have experienced too much hardship. 

However, with hardship also comes hope. Reaching children early and providing educational opportunities have been shown to alleviate toxic stress, allowing children to live productive and happy lives. However, educational resources for Syrian refugee children remain in short supply. Despite its importance in providing children a brighter and more stable future, education efforts only receive 3% of humanitarian aid annually. Additionally, many humanitarian organizations do not provide adequate educational resources for children to increase school enrollment. 

Students in Syria start to drop out at the age of 12, when they are in secondary school. A study conducted on Syrian refugee children in Jordan showed that only 25% of students are enrolled in secondary school, citing a lack of safe transportation, limited educational resources available, poverty and limited professional opportunities as contributing factors. Children who drop out of school are at increased risk of experiencing hardship in their lives, including living in poverty, being subjected to child marriage and facing sexual violence. Adequate educational resources and child support are essential to help provide resilience and much-needed support for Syrian refugee children. Some nonprofit organizations are aiming to do just that.

Making a Difference in Syrian Refugee Children’s Lives

Syrian refugee children at a school in Lebanon. DFID. CC2.0

A new educational program developed by the International Rescue Committee (IRC) and Sesame Workshop aims to provide adequate educational resources for Syrian refugee children. Called Ahlan Simsim, which translates to “Welcome Sesame” in Arabic, the program aims to combine the IRC’s experience working in conflict zones with the TV show “Sesame Street,” which is known for its educational and nurturing effects on children. Program resources include safe spaces for young children to play, an Arabic-language version of ”Sesame Street,” parenting resources for caregivers, and partnerships with nonprofits and local governments to ensure child access to education. In light of COVID-19, educational programming takes place through WhatsApp and online video. 

Ahlan Simsim provides children with skills in literacy and numeracy while helping them develop emotional resilience. For example, the program will teach students how to deal with difficult situations, understand their feelings and empathize with others. The program is a winner of the MacArthur Foundation’s 100&Change grant competition and is among the most ambitious early childhood development programs ever attempted by the humanitarian system. According to Sherrie Westin, executive vice president for global impact and philanthropy at Sesame Workshop, “The issue we are addressing is the greatest humanitarian crisis of our time. We know we can make a difference in the long term if we reach children early. Without that, there’s an entire generation at risk, and that has repercussions not just for their future, but for a more peaceful, stable world for all children.”

To Get Involved: 

Check out this link to the International Rescue Committee’s webpage to learn more about the Ahlan Simsim initiative.

Megan Gürer

is a Turkish-American student at Wellesley College in Massachusetts studying Biological Sciences. Passionate about environmental issues and learning about other cultures, she dreams of exploring the globe. In her free time, she enjoys cooking, singing, and composing music.

Consider the Tofu: A (Tasty) History

This seemingly tasteless ingredient packs a punch in iconic dishes across Asia. 

Fry it, flip it, steam it, dessert-ify it—tofu’s your jack of all trades. Sherman Kwan. Unsplash. 

As a relatively tasteless food, tofu is a versatile ingredient that is present in many dishes across Asia. Tofu is centuries old. While the exact date is not known, historians believe that tofu was first used over 2,000 years ago in China. This humble dish made its debut in Japan, Korea, parts of Southeast Asia and eventually in Europe after 19th-century colonialism. In Buddhist societies, the production of tofu increased as it served as a convenient meat alternative. Molded from crushed soybeans, tofu is a flexible food that goes with nearly anything. Given its absorbent nature, tofu often tastes like the spices and flavors it has marinated in. Here are a few popular tofu dishes from across Asia: 

Mapo Tofu

This classic dish has roots in China’s Sichuan region. Mapo tofu is made with soft tofu and stir-fried with various chile peppers, black bean paste and ginger. If cooked properly, the sauce itself is a bright-red color laced with thin bubbles of oil. The dish can be topped off with scallions or minced meat if so desired.  

Stuff your tofu too; it’s gratifying. Qlinart. CC BY-NC-ND 2.0. 

Crispy Shrimp Stuffed Tofu

In this Cantonese dish, tofu is stuffed with minced shrimp and deep-fried to crispiness. The tofu is first sliced and coated in cornstarch, then hollowed out to hold the filling. The dish is often paired with classic ingredients like Shaoxing wine, white pepper and sesame oil. These golden, bite-sized bricks can be garnished with scallions and can be dipped in a slightly sweet soy sauce. 

Stinky tofu is usually sold from open-air hawker stalls. Josephine Lim. CC BY-ND 2.0. 

Stinky Tofu

Tofu, when stinky, can also be a delectable treat. This smelly favorite can be found along the streets of China, Hong Kong and Taiwan. Stinky tofu is made from the fermented brine in which it has soaked for a few months. The mixture is usually made from fermented milk, vegetables or meat, but can also include other ingredients like dried shrimp and mustard greens. When ready, stinky tofu is commonly served deep-fried. Its bitter and salty flavor is best paired with garlic, soy sauce or chile sauce. 

Steaming, savory miso soup for any occasion. Jude Masti. CC BY 2.0. 

Miso Soup 

Miso is a fermented paste with origins in Japanese cuisine. This concoction is produced by pickling soybeans with salt and other ingredients such as barley or seaweed. Miso is usually consumed as soup, and one of the main condiments is tofu. The tofu’s porous texture absorbs the umami saltiness of the miso and makes for a hearty, satisfying meal. It can be paired with clean white rice, mushrooms and even eggplants. 

An edible lunch packed in a pouch. David Theduy Nguyen. CC BY-NC 2.0. 

Inari Sushi 

Tofu can even be incorporated into sushi. Inari sushi was first introduced to Japan during the 18th century. It first started off as offering food for fox-god temples scattered about the islands. Over time, Inari sushi became a staple option on kitchen tables. Inari sushi is a simpler style of sushi made with sweetened rice packed in tofu pouches. The tofu skin itself is pre-seasoned and deep-fried. The side can be topped off with sesame seeds and paired with vinegar and soy sauce for a uniquely sweet finish. 

Best served piping hot. Republic of Korea. CC BY-SA 2.0. 

Sundubu-jjigae  

Also written as “soondubu,” this Korean dish is a soft tofu stew made with silken, curdled tofu served in a piping hot pot.  Sundubu-jjigae is usually prepared spicy and can be cooked in seafood or meat broth. As the dish is bubbling, a whole egg is cracked into the mix and served almost immediately. Sundubu-jjigae is a popular Korean staple and is usually complemented with a bowl of rice and various “banchan” like kimchi, gamja jorim (sweetened braised potatoes) and salted cucumbers.   

Cleanse your palate with a sweet tofu finish. Boyu Wang. CC BY-NC-ND 2.0. 

Tofu Pudding

Dau hu nuoc duong. Taho. Douhua. However it’s called, tofu can also be consumed as a dessert. Tofu pudding can be found in countries like Vietnam, the Philippines, and China and takes on regional preferences. It is often paired with sweeteners like ginger syrup and brown sugar. Depending on the location, tofu pudding can also be served with peanut and strawberry. 

Tofu is timeless. Devi Puspita Amartha Yahya. Unsplash.

The Future of Tofu

While tofu has a stronghold in Asian cuisines, this humble ingredient continues to change and evolve across the world. As consumers look for more sustainable alternatives, tofu stands as a ready-made, centuries-old option. Not only is it healthier, but tofu is also a flexible and equally tasty substitute for meats and other high-cholesterol foods. Despite its unassuming nature, tofu has proven its timelessness. 

Rhiannon Koh

Rhiannon earned her B.A. in Urban Studies & Planning from UC San Diego. Her honors thesis was a speculative fiction piece exploring the aspects of surveillance technology, climate change, and the future of urbanized humanity. She is committed to expanding the stories we tell.

Feline Fun: Japan’s Cat Culture and ‘Cat Islands’

It is always a pleasure to watch a cat  prancing through the neighborhood or a skittish kitten darting for the bushes. But one country, Japan, has completely dissolved the line dividing feline and human interaction. 

Cat cafe in Japan. nyxie. CC BY-NC-SA 2.0. 

Most people, if asked to name something from Japanese pop culture, would name the “Hello Kitty” cat cartoon as one of their top answers. As popular as the character has been with children across the world, a bustling cat scene exists within Japan itself entirely separate from Hello Kitty. 

Japan’s residents hold a lengthy history of interaction with their feline friends. Cats were originally an invasive species introduced to Japan around 500 A.D. The creatures soon proved their worth by managing the islands’ rat population; the silkworm industry was being devastated by pesky rats, so the nation’s cats jumped into action. Over 1,000 years ago, wealthy members of Japanese society owned cats as pets. Evidence of cats in Japanese history can be found in literary works and paintings, many of which are hundreds of years old. The country’s oral history also contains many tales of worship for the cherished creatures. 

Beyond being pets, cats in Japanese culture are an integral part of social interaction. “Cat cafes” have recently blossomed in Japan’s cat culture, allowing owners to mingle while their beloved friends wander among other felines. 

While a stray cat is a common sight on any island of Japan, about a dozen islands have been dubbed the “Cat Islands” for their particularly dense population of felines. Two of the most popular are the islands of Aoshima and Enoshima:

Aoshima Island

Crowd of cats on Aoshima Island. 暇・カキコ. CC BY-SA 4.0. 

Aoshima Island, located in southern Japan, boasts a human to cat ratio of 1-8. Cats were originally brought to the island to manage the rat population, but now they enjoy flashy media attention as internet sensations. The cats have become increasingly popular with visitors seeing viral videos, so an interactive feeding area has been installed. The cats have now become accustomed to interaction with strangers and will gladly show affection for a bit of food. 

Enoshima Island

Cat on Enoshima Island. tokyofortwo. CC BY-NC-SA 2.0.

Enoshima Island is a small island just over an hour south of Tokyo. The island’s human population is minuscule compared to the population of cats; there are only about 100 human residents among over 600 cats. The island draws many visitors for its Shinto shrines, which represent a religion that does not believe in the killing of cats. The island also houses a busy fishing industry, which has proven to provide plenty of nourishment for furry residents. Thus, the island’s cat population has bloomed. 

Japan’s feline friends have embedded themselves in the nation’s history and culture, and their lofty position in society appears to be secure. 

Ella Nguyen

Ella is an undergraduate student at Vassar College pursuing a degree in Hispanic Studies. She wants to assist in the field of immigration law and hopes to utilize Spanish in her future projects. In her free time she enjoys cooking, writing poetry, and learning about cosmetics.

The Ainu: One of Japan’s Indigenous Groups

In August 2019, the Japanese government passed a law that officially recognized the Ainu as an Indigenous people group. After nearly two centuries of legalized discrimination, the Ainu are reclaiming their identity and history, and they are just getting started.

An Ainu couple before assimilation; their features are still different from those of their Japanese counterparts. Stuart Rankin. CC BY-NC 2.0.

In July, Japan unveiled the Upopoy National Ainu Museum, the country’s first cultural center dedicated to Indigenous identity. Located on the island of Hokkaido—one of the Ainu’s ancestral lands—the Upopoy Museum showcases the history of the Ainu through performances and historical relics. What is remarkable about the museum’s opening is not its resiliency amid a pandemic, but that the structure opened at all. Much like the power dynamic between American settlers and Native American tribes, the Ainu endured a legacy of forced assimilation by the ethnic Japanese and their ruling government.

Before this, the Ainu were a hunter-gatherer tribe that inhabited the northern islands of Ezo (present-day Hokkaido), the Kuril Islands and the Russian island of Sakhalin. According to archaeological records, the Ainu called these lands home as early as the 14,500 B.C. The Ainu also had strong ties to animism, a belief that manifested itself in the relationship between the Ainu and the bears on the islands. The Ainu even created a ceremony in which bear cubs were taken, raised and then sacrificed in a ritual offering. These symbolic rites guided Ainu tradition and their balanced connection with nature.

Ainu women performing a welcome dance on Hokkaido. Vladimir Tkalcic. CC BY-NC-ND 2.0.

When the Meiji government annexed Hokkaido in the late 19th century, the Ainu’s pastoral way of life was interrupted. While the Ainu lived in Japan, they physically differed from their Japanese counterparts. The Ainu have a more European look with lighter skin and thick hair. Men sported full beards, and women tattooed their lips once they reached adulthood. Because of this, the Japanese derided the Ainu as backward and foreign. Around this time, Japan also became the first non-European country to have defeated Russia in battle. Flush with victory and newly acquired lands, the Japanese sought to build up a national myth of military might and cultural homogeneity. One of these initiatives included a policy of forced assimilation on the island of Hokkaido.

The Japanese government enlisted the help of American consultants who had reeducated their own North American Indigenous groups. The Ainu were forced into Japanese-speaking schools and were required to change their names. As the land was repurposed for industrial and agricultural uses, the Ainu were pushed into wage labor and became an impoverished and politically disenfranchised minority. Even after World War II, the Ainu were deprived. To participate in the scientific advancements of the mid-20th century, the Japanese government essentially emboldened researchers to rob Ainu graves and remains.  

The Upopoy National Museum is housed in Hokkaido, one of the Ainu’s ancestral homelands. Marek Okon. Unsplash. 

In February 2019, the Japanese government introduced a bill that would officially recognize the ethnic Ainu minority as an Indigenous people for the first time. The bill included measures that would support Ainu communities, fund scholarships and educational opportunities, and allow the Ainu to cut down trees in nationally owned forests for use in traditional practices.

While many lauded the proposal, some felt that the bill missed a crucial element: an apology. In an interview with CNN, musician Oki Kano shared that he was only 20 years old when he found out that he was Ainu. Thanks to rigorous assimilation policies, the Ainu in Japan bear more resemblance to ethnic Japanese than past generations. Because of the ugly legacy of discrimination, however, the true number of Ainu still left in Japan is unknown. Due to fear, many of the Ainu have chosen to hide their background, leaving younger generations with limited if any knowledge about their heritage. The Ainu language is also at risk of extinction.

Although the bill became law in August 2019 and Tokyo University returned some of the robbed remains the following year, the fight for the Ainu people’s rights is just beginning. Despite widespread recognition and gradual acceptance of the Ainu, some feel the Ainu culture is at risk of tokenization. Though the preservation of Ainu culture is commendable, the Ainu’s future should also be considered if they are to have a chance at survival.

Rhiannon Koh

Rhiannon earned her B.A. in Urban Studies & Planning from UC San Diego. Her honors thesis was a speculative fiction piece exploring the aspects of surveillance technology, climate change, and the future of urbanized humanity. She is committed to expanding the stories we tell.

With Democracy on the Horizon, Uzbekistan Flirts with Freedom

Uzbekistan’s new attention to human rights and democratic ideals, along with the rapid boom in its tourism industry and steps toward religious tolerance, are potential signifiers of progress.

Tashkent, capital of Uzbekistan. Markus Biedermann. CC BY NC-ND 2.0.

Cradled between Kazakhstan and Turkmenistan, Uzbekistan lies at the heart of Central Asia. Uzbekistan’s population is predominantly Sunni Muslim, and adherents are considered the most devout in Central Asia. The capital, Tashkent, is full of signs of its rich Islamic heritage: historic mosques and mausoleums are scattered among Soviet-style towers.

The country’s complex and multifaceted history explains its diverse population. At the height of the Silk Road, cities located in present-day Uzbekistan such as Bukhara and Samarkand were trading hubs between the East and the West. It was through these centers that Arab traders brought Islam and a written alphabet to the region. After centuries of conquests and rivalry between Uzbek city-states, Russia swallowed up these states with the promise of protection in the early 19th century. It was established as the Uzbek Soviet Socialist Republic in 1924, where religion was suppressed and the population inflicted with forced collectivization. 

Ever since Uzbekistan’s independence in 1991, long-serving President Islam Karimov has largely avoided democratization while embracing diplomacy and investment from the global community. Despite his attempts to join the U.S. in its “war on terror,” Karimov was regularly criticized by the United Nations for his long record of human rights violations. His persecution of the large Muslim population in Uzbekistan could not be ignored by U.S. in light of the Andijan massacre, when at least 187 civilians were killed. After Karimov’s death in 2016, Uzbekistan seems to have emerged from three decades of isolation and autocratic rule.

Today, President Shavkat Mirziyoyev’s administration boasts of its progressive policies: Mirziyoyev advocates for freedom of the press, supports religious tolerance and disapproves of unjust imprisonment. Since the start of Mirziyoyev’s presidency in 2016, a few journalists have been spared incarceration, previously blocked media platforms were made accessible, and a number of political prisoners were released. These actions displayed Mirziyoyev’s ostensible devotion to human rights, which was bolstered by his emerging friendship with U.S. Rep. Trent Kelly, his interaction with nongovernmental organizations, and his government’s partnership with the Cotton Campaign, which combats unpaid cotton production in Uzbekistan. As a result, Uzbekistan was elected to the U.N. Human Rights Council for the first time in history this October. In an article found on the United Nations’ website, Uzbekistan is lauded for its “firm commitment to the purposes and principles of the U.N. Charter and the universal declaration of human rights.” Although members of the U.N. carefully watch Mirziyoyev to ensure the establishment of these democratic ideals, Uzbekistan is now regarded as a country working toward greater freedom. 

There are complications involved in Mirziyoyev’s steps toward democratization. Even though Mirziyoyev has been vocal about eliminating Uzbekistan’s forced cotton labor, advocacy group Uzbek Forum found that forced labor persists in the country. Rather than setting up an institutional stronghold on the cotton industry, the government privatized the cotton sector, which only decentralized government-enforced labor by a few degrees. 

Mirziyoyev’s efforts toward modernizing the Uzbek capital of Tashkent have resulted in mass displacement of the city’s original inhabitants. Through the demolition of its buildings and the restructuring of its neighborhoods, the government has carried out a wide-scale gentrification of the city. Tashkent is now considered a travel destination, full of shining skyscrapers and new hotel districts. In order to bolster Uzbekistan’s economy, Mirziyoyev allowed visa-free travel for 30 days for visitors from 65 countries, including the United States.

These markers of progress are met with a mixture of emotions—the U.N. is enthusiastic about Mirziyoyev’s commitment to human rights, while Human Rights Watch remains skeptical of the legitimacy of these policies. The new seemingly democratic leadership of Mirziyoyev creates suspicion among Uzbeks and foreigners alike. Pushed by economic motivations, the president’s attempts to abide by the universal guidelines of human rights stir up hopes among Uzbeks for a freer future. 

Heather Lim

recently earned her B.A. in Literatures in English from University of California, San Diego. She was editor of the Arts and Culture section of The Triton, a student-run newspaper. She plans on working in art criticism, which combines her love of visual art with her passion for journalism.




Daring Divers: The Superhuman Bajau People of Southeast Asia 

Mastering the seas has long been a task attempted by many seafaring cultures around the world. The Bajau people, however, seem to command the ocean with an unmatched talent. 

Bajau people. johnjodeery. CC BY 2.0.

Wandering the Sulu Sea off the coast of the Philippines, the Bajau people spent the last 1,000 years accumulating an impressive track record for their seafaring ways. Often referred to as “sea nomads” or “sea gypsies,” the Bajau people live almost entirely on houseboats, and only return to land to bury their dead, trade, construct their houseboats, and wait out sea storms. This ethnic group sails the waters around Indonesia and Malaysia as well, which are highly congested with piracy; the Bajau people usually flee from attack instead of choosing combat. Because they live solely on the waters, the ethnic group does not have any official affiliation with neighboring countries. 

Houseboat of the Bajau people. Yanajin33. CC BY-SA 4.0.

The exact origins of the Bajau people are unknown, but it is presumed that they are of a Malay background. Most of their known background is contained in oral history, with much of it being unraveled through folklore. One story of their origin recounts the tale of a man named Bajau who was known to displace the water in rivers using his body mass. It is told that villagers then followed him to easily collect the fish that were left behind. Envy of his people’s large fish hauls raged among neighboring tribes, but all attempts to kill Bajau were unsuccessful. His people then thrived and became the rulers of the oceans that they are today. 

Bajau children. Education Projects for Children in Sabah. CC BY 2.0.

The Bajau people are famous for their incredible fishing expertise, with specific mastery of diving. Researchers have observed Bajau divers reaching depths of over 230 feet and remaining underwater for several minutes at a time. Yet, the most surprising aspect of their expertise is that it is completely unaided; the Bajau people do not use wetsuits or advanced diving technology. They rely solely on wooden goggles and makeshift spears, but display unparalleled precision in spearfishing. Master divers spend about five hours a day underwater and catch almost 20 pounds of fish and other elusive marine life. 

Although most of the Bajau people’s skill comes from endless hours of practice, scientists have found that their bodies adapted to their active lifestyle. The Bajau people are found to have spleens larger than the average human, which researchers conclude is due to their long diving hours. The spleen stores red blood cells needed in oxygen retention, so larger spleens correlate positively with intense diving. Other studies have found that they also possess different variants of genes that assist in long dives, such as that of BDKRB2 which is linked to the rate in which oxygen spreads throughout the body. 

Little can be traced of the origins of the Bajau people, but they surely hold a steady future in being uncontested overlords of the oceans.

Ella Nguyen

is an undergraduate student at Vassar College pursuing a degree in Hispanic Studies. She wants to assist in the field of immigration law and hopes to utilize Spanish in her future projects. In her free time she enjoys cooking, writing poetry, and learning about cosmetics.

Singapore’s Dying Dialects

Singapore is a tiny Southeast Asian country often celebrated for its diverse and multilingual population. Despite efforts to preserve its cultural heritage, the country is at risk of completely losing the speakers and history of its Chinese dialects. 

A street in Singapore’s Chinatown showcasing the four official languages of the country. Courtesy of Rhiannon Koh.

Singapore is an island nation located on the tip of the Malay Peninsula. This city-state is an international port known for its cleanliness, law and order, and neo-futuristic cityscapes. Under its sleek veneer of lights, however, Singapore also harbors an impressive heritage thanks to its multicultural populace.

The official story of Singapore begins in the third century. Early Chinese records show that this island was frequented by the Malays, the Javanese, the Indian Cholas and other passing tradesmen. According to legend, the 14th-century Srivijayan prince Sri Tri Buana stumbled upon the island, saw a tiger, and mistook it for a lion. He then named the island “Singapura,” or the “Lion City.” After nearly five centuries of obscurity, the island resurged into the spotlight when the British statesman Stamford Raffles founded what is now considered modern-day Singapore. Even before Raffles’ influence, the island was already home to an ethnically diverse mix of Chinese, Malays and Indians. 

Since its independence in 1965, Singapore has encoded multiculturalism and linguistic diversity into its constitution. Statute 153A states that Malay, Mandarin, Tamil and English shall be the four official languages in Singapore; no person shall be discriminated against for whichever they choose. Consequently, multilingual signs are considered the norm and it can cause a public uproar when signs fail to be inclusive. In recent years, however, English has dominated communication in many homes.

Singapore’s city plan emphasizes historical preservation, fostering an urbanscape of both old and new. Courtesy of Rhiannon Koh.

When Singapore’s first prime minister, Lee Kuan Yew, came to power, he believed that knowledge of dialects undermined the mastery of key languages. Since Singapore was a former British colony and was largely comprised of those of a Chinese background, Yew pushed for English and Mandarin education in schools, essentially cutting down a “thriving linguistic tropical rainforest.” Though these languages gave Singapore a competitive edge in global markets, many Singaporeans lost knowledge of their mother tongues—Hokkien, Teochew, Hakka and others—as well as their connection to grandparents and elders who spoke exclusively in those dialects. A 2015 Department of Statistics study found that in-home dialect use decreased from 18.2% in 2005 to 12.6%. In the wake of this reckoning, many youths are taking steps to reclaim their heritage. Students like Lee Xuan Jin came to understand that Hokkien and Teochew were his “true mother tongues” as opposed to mainland Mandarin. To rekindle the language and improve literacy, Lee launched a Facebook page called Writing in Hokkien.

Singapore’s Gardens by the Bay, a testament to the country’s endemic botany and the potential of its future. Courtesy of Rhiannon Koh.

In an op-ed piece for Rice, Natalie Tan questions Singapore’s Speak Mandarin Campaign—a program that effectively rendered dialects obsolete in favor of a unified but vague Chinese culture. Tan argues that Singaporeans lost a bridge to the past. If this trend continues, Singaporeans will lose their ability to translate interviews and other important historical documents. Locals will also lose the stories of their elders as well as the rich histories still bound up in fading languages. 

The demise of Chinese dialects taps into the overarching issue of dying languages across the globe. Some feel the dissolution of language is inevitable, citing cultural differences in value and multicultural diversity. Others argue that dying languages should be saved, referencing the invaluable knowledge Indigenous languages harbor. Many languages disappear each year; the difficult question is whether anything should be done to prevent this fate.

Rhiannon Koh

earned her B.A. in Urban Studies & Planning from UC San Diego. Her honors thesis was a speculative fiction piece exploring the aspects of surveillance technology, climate change, and the future of urbanized humanity. She is committed to expanding the stories we tell.

What Makes Bhutan So Happy?

Meet the country which prioritizes the contentment of its citizens before everything else through its “Gross National Happiness” program.

Bhutanese children. r y _ _ _ _ . CC BY-NC 2.0

Imagine a country hidden away from the rest of the world. Tucked in between China and India, the world’s most populous countries, little Bhutan rests at the base of the Himalayan mountains. The rural country long ago made the decision to close off its borders to most tourism in hopes of preserving the nation’s unique Buddhist culture and the identity of its 740,000 people. In 1974 the country gradually reopened, though the Bhutanese monarchy was reluctant for the nation to be connected with the rapidly urbanizing world. Bhutan could not be completely isolated for long due to globalization, and in 1999 internet and Wi-Fi were quickly introduced. Being alone for so long, Bhutan was innovative in ways that made sense for its culture and ecosystem.

Dochula Pass. Göran Höglund (Kartläsarn). CC BY 2.0

Bhutan is unique in its location and recent connections to the outside world, but it’s the traditions and customs within Bhutan that really make it a sight to behold. Even during the age of colonization and imperialization, Bhutan was never colonized. The country’s official religion remains Vajrayana Buddhism, a deity-dense, merit-based and karma-focused faith implemented into everyday life and routines. 

Bhutan Buddhist monk sand art. John K. CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

Dance of the death god. jmhullot. CC BY-SA 2.0

Ecology is everything. Bhutan is the only carbon negative nation in the modern world, absorbing three times more carbon than it produces. In light of climate change, that feat is revolutionary. Its government has established laws that require Bhutan to always have its area 60% covered in forest lands. Keeping in mind its minimal carbon footprint, Bhutan is still vigilant about tourists who enter the country, always prioritizing  the preservation of the nation’s cohesive identity. The tourist industry is nationally regulated, making it expensive and difficult to travel to. Documents and visas are issued by state-appointed companies and provide visitors with everything, including hotels, insurance and most importantly a guide who must accompany travelers at all times. 

Ecology is everything. 360around. CC BY 2.0

Ecology and tourism are not the only things the government has taken to regulating. Bhutan is once again unique in national policy, measuring its nation’s happiness. Outsiders like to say that Bhutan is the “happiest country in the world” and the statistics given by Bhutan back up this claim. In 2015, the annual extensive survey that gauges the nation’s happiness concluded that 91% of its population was happy.” The Ministry of Happiness measures the contentment of its population with “Gross National Happiness” (GNH). 

King of Bhutan. Bhutan-360. CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

Ex-Prime Minister Tshering Tobgay defined it as “a developing philosophy that acknowledges that economic growth is important, but that growth must not be mindless, but sustainable.”

Much like a country’s gross domestic product, GNH is considered important. Established in 2008, the Gross National Happiness Commission was appointed to take into consideration and care the inner peace of Bhutan’s people. Broken down into four pillars, nine domains and 72 indicators, GNH is a difficult concept to comprehend. The country’s leaders take into account how happy its people are in every aspect of life: governance, health, education, living standards, culture, ecology, time use and psychological well-being. 

Tobgay breaks Bhutan’s complicated process down to three components: the key to happiness is security, identity and purpose. These things are not mutually exclusive; they reinforce one another in every direction, both on an individual and a national level. He says that, “The government has a responsibility to ensure the whole nation has individual pursuit of the keys to happiness.” 

Temple overlooking the Himalayas. Jean Marie Hullot. CC BY-SA 2.0

The Bhutanese are often misunderstood. Outsiders often believe that just because they have GNH, it automatically makes them the happiest country in comparison to all others. They have free health care, free education, clean air, a thriving environment and a strong sense of community. But Tobgay argues that the Bhutanese still struggle because that is what it means to be human. Bhutan is a “real country with real people, and real desires.” Although every person may suffer from inner turmoil for whatever reason, the Bhutanese should be happy knowing that they have been given the keys to happiness.

Yuliana Rocio

Yuliana is currently a Literature/Writing major at the University of California San Diego. Yuliana likes to think of herself as a lover of words and a student of the world. She loves to read, swim, and paint in her free time. She spent her youth as part of a travel-loving family and has grown up seeking adventure. She hopes to develop her writing skills, creating work that reflects her voice and her fierce passion for activism.

Malaysian Princess Condemns Suicide Criminalization 

Malaysia is one of three Southeast Asian countries that still criminalizes suicide. To fight stigmas, mental health advocates have been pushing for reform and a more efficient health care system.

Pedestrians milling about a street market in Kuala Lumpur. Trey Ratcliff. CC BY-NC-SA 2.0.

On Sept. 10, World Suicide Prevention Day, Malaysian Princess Tengku Puteri Iman Afzan was appointed as the country’s international patron for World Mental Health Day 2020. This nomination was an encouraging sign for Malaysian mental health advocates for many reasons.

As a former British colony, Malaysia has codified an antiquated law criminalizing suicide. In Section 309 of Malaysia’s Penal Code, those who attempt and survive suicide must serve one year in prison, pay a fine, or both. Almost 60% of Malaysia’s population practices Islam, and suicide goes against the religion’s belief in the sanctity of life. Despite the stigma of suicide as a “sin,” a national study estimates that every day 10 people take their own lives. Subsequently, many human rights groups like the National Human Rights Society (HAKAM) and Minda are dedicated to raising mental health awareness and literacy. Activists hope that proper education will dispel the negative stereotypes that are preventing many from seeking the help they need.

Worshippers outside of a mosque in Malaysia. Firdaus Latif. CC BY-SA 2.0.

In an interview with The Guardian, chairman Justin Victor of emotional support hotline group Befrienders Kuala Lumpur, said that criminalization “is a deterrent to being able to speak about [suicide] openly.” Many individuals who survive are reluctant to seek help, fearing they could be charged again.

In the wake of the COVID-19 lockdown, the need for mental health care reform was made more apparent. Shahfirul Hakim Shahidan, 28, attempted suicide after facing unemployment. He was charged with “inconveniencing” others and fined 3,000 ringgit ($720). If Shahidan failed to pay, he would be jailed. The sentence was met with public outcry. Minds First, a youth group advocating for mental health awareness, organized a Change.org petition demanding the decriminalization of suicide. In its statement, the group argued that the “criminalization of suicide punishes those who need help and prevents them from getting the support they need.”

As of Oct. 11, the petition had gained nearly 19,000 signatures.

The skyline of Malaysia’s capital, Kuala Lumpur. Salehi Hassan. CC BY-NC 2.0.

Quarantine isolation has exacerbated existing mental health challenges. Befrienders Kuala Lumpur reported an increase in calls when the government first enforced social distancing measures. Publicity director Ardy Ayadali explained, “Being in isolation increases the fear and helplessness that someone feels … when someone is isolated in crowded families or spaces, the environment can get toxic.”

During the pandemic, however, Malaysia also launched its first mental health helpline for children. Buddy Bear is a hotline that lets children discuss whatever social and emotional issues they have, and gives advice on how they can deal with them. With professionally trained volunteers, children learn how to articulate and understand their feelings with a healthy approach.

Accordingly, many felt that Iman’s appointment would aid Malaysia’s advocacy work in mental health care. The princess has also struggled with anxiety and shared that although she is no longer ashamed of her troubles, she also knows “what it’s like to feel disempowered.” Iman noted that stigma was one of the biggest hurdles and applauded Malaysians’ struggle to attain mental health rights. During her acceptance speech, the princess publicly called for the decriminalization of suicide.

Rhiannon Koh

earned her B.A. in Urban Studies & Planning from UC San Diego. Her honors thesis was a speculative fiction piece exploring the aspects of surveillance technology, climate change, and the future of urbanized humanity. She is committed to expanding the stories we tell.

Sri Lanka Strives Toward Gender Equality Through Economic Empowerment

Sri Lanka’s efforts to combat the gender gap allow women to support themselves and their communities. 

Women selling produce at a market in Sri Lanka. imke.sta. CC2.0

Nicknamed the “pearl of the Indian Ocean” and famous for its spices, unique culture and lush ecosystems, Sri Lanka is also known for its advances in gender equality. The island nation became in 1960 the first country in the world to elect a female prime minister, Sirimavo Bandaranaike. Sri Lanka has also long provided free and compulsory education for men and women up to the university level.

Even so, high levels of gender-based violence are present throughout the country and the unemployment rate of women is twice that of men. Most women occupy low-paying positions in agriculture and the garment industry with little chance of economic mobility. Although well-respected in the Asia-Pacific region, Sri Lanka’s educational system often enforces traditional ideological and cultural beliefs, which can perpetuate negative stereotypes about women.  A university-level education does not guarantee women positions of power, with large disparities between men and women in science, technology and political positions throughout the country. Additionally, a 26-year-long civil war (1983-2009) isolated Sri Lanka from the modern world, allowing traditional gender roles to thrive in war-affected areas.

Developing economic opportunities for women has the potential to overcome barriers to gender equality. Here are two organizations working to do just that:

Women receiving medical training provided by the Women’s Development Centre. Rajapaksa. CC2.0

The Women’s Development Center

This Sri Lanka-based nongovernmental organization has made incredible strides in supporting at-risk women, children and people with disabilities since its founding in 1986. With the goal of creating opportunities for marginalized groups, the group is on its way to “creating a just and secure society for women and children.” Although the organization has a multifaceted approach, social enterprises and economic empowerment remain its key goals. The social enterprise “Sthree”, meaning “woman” in Tamil and Sinhala, was founded in 2011 with the goal of empowering women and their local communities. The platform provides a market in Kandy for Sri Lankan women and disabled people to sell handmade products, such as saris, jewelry, decor, snacks and chutneys, recycled paper products and eco-friendly purses and handbags. Sthree also provides training and skill-building workshops for women and disabled individuals. Sthree is beginning to expand to an international clientele, even hosting an international exhibition and sale in Sweden in 2016.

A woman making brooms for a woman’s cooperative in Sri Lanka. Foley. CC2.0

Puthukkudiyiruppu Women Entrepreneurs’ Cooperative Society

The PTK Cooperative, initially founded by Krishnakumar Jeyaranjini and 14 other women in 2012, provides a platform for war-affected women to support themselves and their families economically. The business has expanded over the years, producing detergent, chili powder and rice flour. The organization has the backing of the International Labour Organization (ILO), which helps link it to buyers, markets and social enterprises. The organization enables collaboration between women from different ethnic groups and communities in Sri Lanka, helping to create social cohesion and tolerance. The organization continues to defy gender norms and stereotypes.  “Often the words ‘woman’ and ‘detergent’ bring out gendered images of a woman washing clothes at home, not of a woman owning or running a successful detergent-producing enterprise,” said Simrin Singh, director of the ILO country office for Sri Lanka. “It is stories of our work empowering women like Jeyaranjini, building block by block, that are the essential inspiration so many other women in this country could use to break the barriers to their empowerment.”

Although Sri Lanka has made considerable progress toward gender equality in the last 50 years, many obstacles remain. Empowering women at a grassroots level helps provide women more economic agency while ensuring the well-being of generations to come. 

Megan Gürer

Megan is a Turkish-American student at Wellesley College in Massachusetts studying Biological Sciences. Passionate about environmental issues and learning about other cultures, she dreams of exploring the globe. In her free time, she enjoys cooking, singing, and composing music.