THANK YOU

Hey - apparently 183 people have read this blog since I set off for Nairobi. Or, at least, it's been accessed from 183 different computers over that time (not counting my own logins), which I have chosen to interpret as equating directly to that many readers, and which totally smashes my completely abitrary and meaningless target of 100 WSF blog readers. Hurrah!

So many thanks to you all. I got back to the UK this morning, after an overnight flight of joy, and still haven't slept so am in a slightly odd daze. Sometime in the next few days I'll post my summary and analysis of the WSF process and what the major social movements seem to be up to, coz I know you're all clamouring for it.

I probably wont be able to resist putting up some safari pictures as well. I saw lions, and baby cheetahs, and fed a giraffe (not to the lions and cheetahs). These things made me happy. This is a picture of an elephant that I saw:



Just in case you weren't sure what one looked like.

Best wishes to all,

D x

Stories From The World Social Forum

OK. It’s Thursday afternoon, and we’ve found an internet café (Cyber Surf!) with a fast connection. This means two things:

1) I can go back and intersperse all my previous blog postings with pictures, as I’d originally planned, hopefully making them a bit more interesting and fun to read;
2) There’s time to tell a few stories that I didn’t have time for earlier. Read on...if you dare! Or if you can be bothered.

Me, with People and Planet branding. It was a great organisation to be representing coz it gave me a reason to go to all the sessions with enthusiastic student activists, and also some of the Big Scary Issues (oil and gas extraxtion, HIV/AIDS, climate change) that P&P is working on.

Stupid White Man

Within the grounds of the WSF, I was just one more random nationality amongst hundreds. Out and about in Nairobi, however, I was very much Oh Look A White Guy, especially as most of the white residents rarely seem to walk anywhere. It made me realise just how unused I am to being a minority. It’s one thing to be stared at on the street if, say, you happen to be dressed as a wizard or an ostrich or something, but rather different to feel that you’re standing out just by being your normal self (assuming that you’re not actually a wizard or an ostrich, obviously). Of course, rather than being abused for being different, I instead get offered the finest, finest local deals by every hawker and taxi driver in the city, so I’m not complaining really.


Of course, this pales in comparison to the way all my natural awkwardness came to the fore the first few times I started chatting to people from less comfortable backgrounds than mine – which, here, is practically everyone. General conversation was fine, but as soon as things strayed into politics – which, again, is pretty much inevitable here – and it became clear just how soft and cosy my life was compared to theirs, and just how complicit my home country and my lifestyle was in so many of the things these people were struggling against, I started feeling guilty and stupid and stumbling over my words. Then, of course, I felt even worse because THAT meant I’d started seeing the person I’m talking to as an “activist” or, worse, a “victim” rather than a human being, at which point I generally collapsed into a bubbling heap of hopeless English embarrassment in front of their bemused faces.

Which of course is ridiculous. Here at the WSF, we are all working together to find ways to battle these problems as best we can, no matter where we’re from or why we’re involved. Luckily, I rapidly overcame this and was soon able to have entire conversations with people without going “Gosh, everything’s so CHEAP here, isn’t it! Oh, I mean, of course it is, compared to the UK, because oh yes, we were the ones who totally screwed over your economy and landed you with a load of dictators and corrupt leaders in the first place, and I probably sounded like I was gloating or something didn’t I, argh sorry oh hang on I think my friend’s calling me” and then running off to hide in a portaloo.

(The portaloos were amazing, by the way. They had people cleaning them constantly, and attendants to manage the queues, making them easily the nicest, freshest temporary toilets I’ve ever used. The WSF totally whups Glastonbury on this crucial point.)

This picture represents the exact, incredible amount of style and grace that I didn't display on many occasions during the World Social Forum

Anyway, the point is that even English awkwardness can be overcome if we all celebrate our common humanity by bonding over jokes about the boring speakers and giggling and eating overpriced food together. Or, perhaps, by not eating it…

Windsor Change

I didn’t see this, but I wish I had.

It seems that one of the two highly priced food stalls inside the stadium perimeter – provided by The Windsor Hotel – was owned by the Kenyan Minister for Internal Security. This delightful fellow’s checquered past apparently includes various brutal incidents against Kenyan campaigners in different posts under previous administrations, and today he oversees a police force best known for their “shoot first, then shoot a bit more immediately afterwards” policy (thirteen “suspects” were gunned down in a local shopping centre just a few days previously).

With the same calm but determined self-organisation that got the gates open to all, a group of activists led by the People’s Parliament stormed the stall, routed the staff, and, in their own words, “nationalised the Windsor Hotel”. Apparently the street children had a good lunch that day.

Note to future WSF organisers: putting dodgy, wealthy companies in charge of the catering instead of small local operators is up there with corporate sponsorship and lack of signposting in the Brilliant Ideas Not To Do Again category.

Brazil Nut

On Tuesday, I went to a workshop called “Participatory Democracy in Brazil”, looking forward to a lively debate and critique of this form of decision-making, and presumably of the gap between theory and reality when it came to Brazil. Imagine my surprise (go on, just imagine) when it turned out that this session on Brazilian government policy was being run by…the Brazilian government (plus a few of their supporters). So rather than a discussion of the pros and cons of participatory democracy, where it had succeeded and where it had failed, we got two hours of “Brazilian democracy is great, kids!” with a little bit of “Viva Lula!”. Even watching the incredible skills of the Portuguese-to-English translator in action couldn’t quell my nagging feeling that all was Not Quite Right.

I wish I knew more about Brazil. I sort of knew that the supposedly left-wing government had sold out in some way and done some dodgy stuff, but I couldn’t remember what or why. Nonetheless, I was determined to challenge them somehow, so decided to ask them how locally-based participatory democracy could possibly tackle global issues (actually, this is something that really interests me anyway). So I raised my hand, got boldly to my feet, strode towards the front, fell over my sandal, and landed face first in front of the Brazilian Minister for Human Rights.

Left to right: Official translator, important Brazilian community leader from the City of God, Brazilian Minister for Human Rights. Not shown: me, flat on my face in front of the table.

Perhaps it’s just as well that I didn’t ask them anything too difficult and hard-hitting. My case may have been slightly undermined.

OK, that’s enough for now, but I still need to tell you about the whole Climate Change debacle, my battle with my personal demons that somehow led to my doing a speech in front of the whole Social Assembly, and, of course, How We Met Reverend Billy. I also need to give you my general overview and analysis of the whole WSF process, what I learned, and what was achieved (bet you can’t wait for that). So more to follow soon.

Not too soon, though. We’re going to the Maasai Mara tomorrow.

There’s going to be elephants.

Elephants.

Elephants and lions.

I’m a bit excited.

Best wishes to you all,

Danny

Wednesday 24th January, 7.30pm, Media Centre, Moi International Sports Complex

Yesssss internet access! Time to post the backlog of posts so that the posting is done with respect to the posts that I am posting, post-haste.

I've sneaked into the Media Centre by pretending to be Jess (don't ask) and so have a very short time in which to update you.

Amazing piece of street theatre to draw people into the "Extractive Industries" workshop, with one guy pretending to be a miner, and the other playing a brutal guard (with a large water-pistol)

Oh my word. Another extraordinary day. I've seen - and met - people from across the globe who are struggling against a huge range of challenges that often seem to have common roots in the current international economic system. I've sat in a room full of Africans declaring their desire to fight for independence from global aid in the fight against HIV/AIDS, calling instead for trade rules that make the treatments they need affordable, and an end to the corruption (in which Northern governments are frequently complicit) that is crippling their health systems. I've been involved in the most frustrating meeting on climate change I've ever been in, immersed myself in Brazilian propaganda, joined an international network of student activists even though I'm not a student, and somehow ended up making a speech in front of the entire Mass Assembly of Social Movements.

The Mongolian delegation with his placard.

The whole place has become so much more lively since all the Kenyans were allowed in, and the place is buzzing with local hawkers, spontaneous singing, and groups of fascinated street children.

Obligatory picture of cute kid being political

Exhausted now. Going to be kicked out. WSF is over, but I will look for an internet cafe tomorrow so I have time to tell these stories properly and give you a proper flavour of the World Social Forum, Nairobi, and all the amazing things that are happening here.

I have no idea what is going on here, but it looks brilliant.

Dammit, I wish I'd been there when the local Kenyans invaded the catering facilities coz they were being run by a dodgy government-linked company. It sounded fantastic.

General positive African vibes to you all,

Danny

I cannot fully explain why this picture makes me so happy.

Tuesday 23rd January 2007, Moi International Sports Complex

So much has happened I don’t know where to begin.

However, I think I’ll start with a huge ARGH in relation to internet access here. I wasn’t expecting it to be easy to get online, but I thought it would at least be occasionally possible; however, the network is constantly down both here and at Jenny’s house; as the Forum runs from 8.30am to 8pm each day, we never have a chance to look for internet access anywhere else. It’s looking as though this blog is all going to come in a lump on Thursday – that’s the earliest that we’ll be able to look for an internet café or summat. Ho hum.

Anyway, back to the far-too-much-happening thing. This morning, a deputation of Kenyans who’d been unable to afford the $7 entry fee marched up to the Forum gates and demanded entry…just as Jess and I were arriving. They blocked the traffic on the entrance road until the guards opened the outer gates to let them in. Cheering and singing (African demonstrations beat UK ones hands down), the crowd marched into the complex, and I immediately realised that this was far more important and exciting than the workshop I was meant to be going to, and joined the procession (who were singing “This is wrong, this is wrong” in Kiswahili, with harmonies and ululations and, most importantly, without a megaphone or a bad rhyme for “Bush” or “Blair” to be heard or seen).

The best possible placard - direct, to the point, and not featuring a "Socialist Worker" logo.

The T-Shirt reads: "We are POOR but...we come together, we save daily, we make collective decisions, we negotiate with these Strengths - Kenyan Slum Dwellers Association, www.sdinet.org"

The inner gates parted and the demonstration poured in. After some (well-managed) internal debate, the procession of disenfranchised Kenyans (plus various media types and other hangers-on) decided to march to the office of the organising committee. The committee weren’t there – they were in a press briefing downstairs. The march duly marched into the press briefing, and took it over.

Remember that guy Charles we met back in Uhuru Park? Well, here he is again (holding the flag), this time triumphantly marching into the Forum with the procession. Afterwards, we had lunch and he nearly fell asleep into his rice as I wittered on enthusiastically about how amazing they all were (he'd been up marching since 5am all the way from Kibera). Finally, he had to head home and I told him I'd learned a lot from him, and he sort of smiled wryly, and now I'll probably never see him again.

A brilliant moment where the march met another march (full of dispossessed people) coming the other way.

At this point, there were some incredible speeches from representatives of the “People’s Parliament”, most of whom seem to live in the Nairobi slums. “How can you start this Forum with a march through the slums, and then deny those who live there a chance to attend? If you visit the slums, you see the worst of us – you see only our misery and our poverty. You do not see the best of us. We have come here to show you the best of us – our energy, our ideas, our experiences. We have so much to contribute to this Forum - how can you have a debate on the solutions to poverty and exclude the poor?”

Thus spoke one amazing young woman from Kibera (later identified as Wangui Mbatia) - or words to that effect. Jess and I tried to film some of it – we’ll try to put it up online (if we ever get online).



The organisers listened, and responded, and now Kenyans can get in for free, and free water and cheaper food is going to be available. The whole thing was utterly brilliant and inspiring and what the WSF is all about, even if it never should have had to happen in the first place.

Since then, I’ve linked up with students activists from across the world, as well as communities feeling the impact of oil and extractive mining projects…the accomplished missions are clocking up. Still LOADS to do here though, and so much to report, and too little time…

Hope to post again soon with more hot news,

Dannny

Monday 22nd January, Moi International Sports Complex, Nairobi Outskirts

The main thing I want to do today is put some pictures up (including on past blogs) but there are some interesting things to report as well…

The outside space forms a ring around the circular stadium, and contains the stalls of hundreds of different organisations. Most of the events and workshops take place on cordoned-off seating areas within the arena, and are accessed by the concrete steps on the right.

A lot of people are talking about this being the most commercial WSF so far. In order to register, you have to hand over your fee to representatives of Celtel, the mobile phone company who are sponsoring the event. They then give you a SIM card, that you put into your phone and register via text message. Not quite what I expected from a mass gathering of grassroots movements… On the other hand, Celtel is the only visible sponsorship. They clearly got a very sweet deal, and probably didn’t pay enough for it, but that doesn’t mean that the WSF has suddenly gone corporate, as some people here seem to think. Although of course it is much more fun to leap to ludicrous conclusions from a small starting-point (someone’s set up a stall selling mangoes – that’s it, EVERYONE HERE IS A SELL-OUT).

For a more critical look at Celtel and the other WSF sponsors, have a look at Adam’s New Internationalist blog.

This is clearly the best stall at the WSF. Somehow, the fact that it's empty just adds to its appeal.

It’s true that things have been less than perfect on the organisational front . The programmes were late, incomplete and confusing; nothing is signposted; no transport has been arranged between central Nairobi and the venue (which is 15km out of town), meaning that everyone arrives in hordes of road-clogging (and polluting) taxis; the power and the internet connection keep going down; and, of course, thousands of local people are unable to attend as they can’t afford the entrance fee. Apparently, the central committee did arrange, in advance, for 6000 local people to get in for free, but this doesn’t seem to have been enough, and there is understandable anger as this anti-poverty event seems to be discriminating against the poor. This is something they need to find a solution for – and soon.

Despite all this, the event is still absolutely incredible and a credit to all involved. I cannot imagine what it takes to pull together something like this. Who cares about a bit of disorganisation when you can meet so many people that you’d never normally get the chance to meet, learn so much in such a short space of time, make extraordinary global connections and build new networks for positive change across the world?

A constant flow of different processions and demonstrations made their noisy, colourful way around the outside of the stadium every day, like this association of street traders.

I won’t go into details about the workshops here; since the last post, I’ve been to events on climate change, and extractive industries in Africa; I’m about to go to one on coffee and economic justice.

I’m a bit overexcited. Perhaps you can tell.

This is the main Chinese stall. People seemed quite interested, for some reason.

Top impenetrable jargon of the day: “I’m taking an eco-Marxist reading of that” (obligatory full-on ranty girl who won’t shut up in the climate change workshops)

Favourite slogan of the day: “Why This Incongruence???” (Banner of a coalition of small Indian farmers)

Painfully awkward chant I’d hoped never to hear again: “Who let the bombs out? Bush! Bush! And Blair!”, to the “tune” of “Who Let The Dogs Out?”. It wasn’t funny even when the song was around. It’s even less funny when a Stop The War activist decides to lead a procession around the stadium against US involvement in Somalia, and gets all the Somalians chanting it too. Excruciating stuff.

Right. Time to go swelter some more (is it hot in the UK too?)

D xXx

Sunday 21stJanuary, 4.25pm, Moi International Sports Complex

Yes! We’ve got hold of a programme, and it seems that there ARE a load of joining-things-together sessions on Wednesday, so I take back what I said in that earlier post about it all being single issues (at least for now).

This season, the South East Asian peasant hat is definitely in. Seriously, everyone is wearing these things.

I’m in the Oxfam Office here, and they seem to have internet access, so I might even be able to post some stuff – time to start the eyelash-fluttering.

Favourite slogan of the day: “Repudiate Now!” (from the Jubilee South anti-debt campaign):

Best impenetrable jargon of the day so far: “Let’s start dialoguing across these dilemmas”

Best product advertised (though not apparently on sale): Mecca-Cola

Sunday 21st January, 3pm, Moi International Sports Complex, Kasarani, Nairobi Outskirts

Just a quick update in between sessions…

I’m sitting on the grass in the shade of a huge concrete stairwell leading up into the nearby stadium. Various people are drifting onto and away from the grass around me, but this is a fairly quiet corner to write a paragraph or two.

The Moi International Sports Stadium (in the background here) is essentially the big boss alien's base that you have to blow up at the end of the game. Moi himself was of course a particularly oppressive and corrupt President of Kenya, which probably just goes to show, or something.

It’s amazing here. I knew it would be, but, well, that doesn’t make it any less true. The sports complex where the main Forum events are being held is an extraordinary place, a huge concrete beast built in 1982 (by the Chinese) for the Pan-African Games, and then not been used since. Apparently the place was largely derelict, and several offices and corridors had to be cleared of rubble and debris in advance of the Forum.

This huge, immediately obsolete sports arena greatly improved President Moi's popularity throughout the 80s and 90s, and all the imprisoned anti-government protestors hailed it as a great use of their tax money.

The main stadium is the venue for most of the events, with stalls from different organisations arranged in a ring around the outside. There are literally hundreds of clashing events going on, from a bewildering array of organisations. The whole place has the feel of a festival, complete with that feeling of Festival Panic (“There’s just too much! I’ll never see it all! Argh!”). I’ve just been to my first proper workshop – a look at possible future global trends in technology, democracy and corporate power, with an amazing selection of speakers – Walden Bello, Vandana Shiva, and Larry Lohmann amongst others. Extremely interesting (and scary/inspiring) stuff, even if the audience was the whitest place I have been since arriving in Kenya…I managed to fight through the scrum of “independent media” that had clustered around Dr Shiva at the end, to ask “What should UK activists be doing to support grassroots movements in India?”. Her answer was simple: “Shell and BP are threatening to take our land to grow biofuels. They need to be challenged. That land is needed to grow food for the people of India.” She gave me some contacts to follow up…so yes, the missions have already begun.

Vandana Shiva listens, enthralled, to Larry Lohmann's speech

Anyway. I’m now being chatted up by some Kenyan girls so I’d better get to the next session before Jess spots me.

Plenty more to say later!

Danny

Yes! It's me! I'm actually here! And so is my good friend the huge cardboard crocodile!

PS Internet access is a real problem. Don’t know when I’ll be able to post this.