The driver stops his black taxi on a parking lot on Shankill Road. Clear and crisp air flows in from the half-open window. Victor has been driving a taxi in Belfast for 32 years. “31,5 years too long”, he grins.

The entire end of the nearby house is covered by a massive, bright painting. The mural depicts a Protestant paramilitary fighter who was killed before reaching his 30th birthday. As we drive forward, the paintings continue. One celebrates Oliver Cromwell with a gruesome text:”We will not rest before the Catholic Church is crushed.”

This is my first visit to Ireland but these images on the walls are familiar to me through news coverage and popular culture. However, for some reason I had always assumed that these murals were old, from the time before the Good Friday Agreement and ceasefire. Victor sets me straight: most of them are painted in the last 10 years and more keep coming. Same continues on the Catholic side where the British flag is nowhere to be seen and the signs carry out the street names also in Irish.

But the murals were something I saw coming. I knew people have partisan sentiments and that they feel an urge to share them. But the thing that struck me was the so called “peace wall”, a high concrete construction splitting the Catholic and Protestant areas, with additional barbed wire to make the point clear. The backyards near the wall are protected with heavy metal frames to keep out the bricks and stones thrown from the other side. Images from the Israeli-Palestinian conflict pop into my head.

Victor tells us that the hostilities have mostly calmed down and that most of the city is a shared space where people live in peace next to each other. But still, if a Catholic girl meets a Protestant boy from the divided areas, they have no possibilities of living next to their families. A Catholic family would not consider moving into Shakill Road and apparently a house here in these divided areas is still a bit of a risky investment.

There is no plan to tear the peace wall down. Victor tells us that the wall gives people a sense of safety. This is also European Union, this is also in 2009.

On the evening before the tour we meet a friend of mine, a Belfast-based architect, for dinner whose stories validate that Victor is not fooling the poor tourist. The architect tells us that driving around the divided areas makes him so depressed that just some weeks earlier he had to drive over to the sea at Doneghal to get rid of the sense of anxiety. Similar stories occur. A Dublin-born friend tells us that he has never been to Belfast and would feel anxious going over. A Belfast-based Englishwoman tells us over a cup of tea that heading to Dublin for work makes her always much more relaxed. According to her, the tension can be sensed when living in Belfast. We also realise afterwards that Victor was very clear not to disclose his religious background.

Our restaurant on the first evening is called Made in Belfast, a trendy hangout focused on organic and local produce. It is obvious that humour is one way of dealing with the division in the city. The restaurant features a bright-red British poster from the Second World War stating in capital letters an advice that could function as a slogan for Belfast: KEEP CALM AND CARRY ON.

The Troubles

Tampere 1918
Originally uploaded by mun kuvia

"What name did they use in your family, Madam President?"

An innocent question in a discussion between Finnish secondary school students and President Halonen earlier this year on the Finnish civil war led to an unsurprising reaction from the President. She hesitated for a moment, clearly felt uncomfortable to answer and finally said:"red rebellion". Halonen´s reaction to events long before she was born showed how deep the civil war is still especially in the generation of my parents. How it is still, in 2008, more or less leading the list of things people don´t want to talk about.

The small article in Helsingin Sanomat earlier this year describing this moment popped into my mind tonight when listening to Kjell Westö talking about his book Missä kuljimme kerran - one of the most widely read Finnish novels of the last 10 years. The book describing the generation born around 1900 has now been translated into Dutch and Westö was visiting the Finnish Embassy for that occasion. He shared with an audience a comment he heard, which describes to a large extent still the attitude of Finns to the tragic events of 1918 where according to some estimates 37.000 people lost their lives:"We have not discussed that for 100 years and we are definitely not going to start now."

Westö´s book is an important book for me. It helped me understand what my grandparents have gone through, what was the world my parents were born into and why the Finnish identity is the way it is. It also helped me start a discussion with my older relatives on the time before I was born. Westö said tonight beautifully that with his books he attempts to help the audience to remember that there were people on these streets before. He also reminded the audience that even when language played a big issue in the civil war, there were Swedish-speaking and Finnish-speaking people on both sides. The histories of people are more complicated than we often allow ourselves to realise.

I always thought that the tragic incidents of 1918 as well as 1939-1945 are issues that I can talk about with an open and critical mind. I mean I had no part in them. This was until 2004 when in a New York subway an American lady in her 60s asked me and my friends in the middle of a casual conversation:"I just wanted to check. During The War, which side were you on? On our side or the other side?" That uncomfortable feeling of shame, that sudden sweat and the blushing caught us all by surprise. We stuttered and it took us a lot of time to deliver an answer. Maybe Westö was right today when he said that it takes 6 generations before a war turns into another historical event.

Anti-climax

HH567637
Originally uploaded by arianne.smidt

Last week was supposed to be Geert Wilders' boost to worldwide fame. The Dutch right-wing populist politician had been drumming up fear and anxiety for months by keeping the release date of his film Fitna secret. Fitna is a calculated attack on Islam and Qur'an. Foreign journalists - including a friend of mine from Finland - travelled to Amsterdam to interview muslims and to witness the likeable violence.

On Wednesday afternoon I got a call from my journalist friend. She was hunting for images of the multicultural clash in Slotervaart, one of Amsterdam's problem neighhbourhoods as characterised by the government. My friend told me on the phone that what they met were Dutch muslims fed up and tired to talk about the issue.

Wilders did not shot himself to grandiose lecturer fees and to international talk shows. His film was pulled off from all websites, he was blamed for using people's work without permission and - most importantly - people sort of consciously ignored his attack on islam after a day. The most common remark I heard was not irritation and anger, it was:"You know, I started watching it and it was really really boring and badly done. I just fastforwarded through it."

Ignoring was not only a Dutch reaction. Altogether it seems that Mr Wilders' attack was miscalculated and ineffective. I may still be proven wrong but as things are now, there is reason for joy. One should not underestimate one's audience, Mr Wilders: we just won't take any sort of crap.

Today on my way to work I glanced through Metro (flat tire, that's why the tram). Mediamatic - the brilliant Dutch new media and culture organisation - did it again: superb reaction to Wilders' film: www.fitna.nu

On Violence

Handgun Class
Originally uploaded by Chase Allgood

I am writing this post at Brussels airport. It’s 10.30 on Friday morning and I have been awake already for six hours. These are situations where one realises the difference in being thirty and twenty. I must say that I have never been as happy for seeing the Starbucks sign as 5.30 this morning at Vienna airport.

I attended yesterday in Vienna a meeting for European online media initiatives such as Eurozine, OpenDemocracy, signandsight.com and Transitions Online. The discussion during the day was on what counts as a European issue. However, during the evening we found ourselves discussing once again in the national roles – as a German, as a Finn, as an Austrian, as a Swede.

Yesterday morning I had once again a realisation that I do live outside my own country. As I was brushing my teeth I had BBC World on which covered extensively the riots in Georgia. In the ticker running on the bottom of the screen I noticed one headline saying:”Teenager shoots seven others and a teacher in Finland”. I stopped brushing and just waited to see it again. ”But something like that cannot happen in Finland. I must have seen wrong”, was my immediate reaction. I texted a friend of mine and my sister and in a minute, my sister called me back.

My first reaction was anger. Why the hell things like this happen? How can someone at that age hate the world so much that he sees killing other people as a resolution? In the discussions during the day I got the full picture. I still could not get over the anger but it was coupled with immense sadness. This morning I checked the website of Helsingin Sanomat again. My anger grew when reading news about fansites for the killers. What the hell is wrong with the way we perceive humanity and violence? I could not help thinking about the speech Robert Kennedy gave over violence.

I am at the airport waiting for teenagers flying over from countries ranging from Turkmenistan to Denmark for the annual The One Minutes Festival. These are people of the same age as the perpetrator and the victims – filled with optimism and talent. What went wrong in Jokela?

When these school shootings have happened in the US, the reaction in the European media has often been that this could never happen in Europe. Europe still has a tendency for a rather arrogant way of defining its values and traditions with a cherry-picking method. Even taking into consideration the role of the European Union as a successful peace project, we are a violent continent. In that sense the tragic incident which happened in Jokela is a European experience which needs joint discussion on how we perceive violence and guns.

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Addition on Sunday evening: do get a good picture of what the winning oneminutesjr videos were like, check these:
Joseph Fadel: Flow (Lebanon)
Palvan Geldinysh: Rakyp (Turkmenistan)
Jakunze Fiston: Je m’exprime (Burundi)

I am a man

My Scary Street
Originally uploaded by Dreams on 27

Yesterday at Prix Europa we saw a Greek documentary called Sugar Town about a small village where the Mayor decided to help the lonely men of his village by organising wife-fetching trips to Russia. The documentary showed sadly how many Western men still see especially Eastern European women as objects, something to sell and buy. The men took for granted that these educated women would be willing to move to Greece. You could sense what the men were thinking:"I mean what do they have there that would keep them there?"

I consider myself a feminist and years in student life made me quite alert and sensitive to chauvinism. I am also extremely easily irritated when people start the John Gray Mars-Venus bollocks about our fundamental differences. Very often I feel awkward when being narrowed into a man, a hunter.

Tonight I promised to meet some of the other participants for dinner and we agreed to meet first at the conference venue lobby. As I left my hotel, a young woman left at the same time. She was heading - like I was - through the rather dark shortcut to the lobby. I did not know her and she did not know me. There was no one else on the street and I could hear her steps speeding up. I was trying not to look suspicious by slowing down my pace but I think that only alerted her more. It was obvious that she was conscious that there was an unknown MAN behind her and there was no one else on the street.

I have been in this situation a few times when walking home from a bar or so. Her feeling is something men do not experience. The risk to men - risk of violence - is different as it has not sexual component in it. From the man's perspective, today's case is a helpless situation where you nearly feel like shouting "really, I am not a rapist". This is part of the gender-specific geography of fear.

Robert F. Kennedy speech ~ Mindless Menace of Violence

Just finished Jack Newfield's book on Robert F. Kennedy. Moving and inspiring. This speech given by Kennedy in 1968 is one of the best political speeches I have heard.

History comes with names attached

Cross at the American St Laurent Cemetery
Originally uploaded by amsterboy

I just got back to Amsterdam after a week of holidays in Northern France in Normandy with my family. Really lovely although the weather could be described as pretty shitty. But then again, when you come from Amsterdam, even two sunny days in a week is a cause for celebration.

Normandy is really beautiful - no wonder Impressionists like Monet were taken by it. We rented a dovecoat (basically a 4-floor tower) from a beautiful small village called Offranville and spent the days by sipping cider, playing with the nephew (not at the same time), learning basic phrases in French (favourite being Mon Dieu) and so on. I can highly recommend a visit.

Before the visit my relatives were going on and on about the D-Day sites like Omaha Beach and the American Military Cemetery in the village of St Laurent. I must confess that I wasn't too eager for a prospect of a three-hour car ride to see battle fields but decided to go along.

I am so glad I went. Seeing the American cemetery with over 10.000 crosses and the German one with more than 20.000 men buried there is a powerful reminder of what happened only some years back. I especially liked the fact that both graveyards stress the great loss and do not build a narrative of heroism around such a tragedy. The feeling, however, is quite different in the German and the American one. When the American one is a collection of white marble cross on a beautiful seashore, the German one has more than two men buried in every grave and is situated next to a motorway.

I spent a marvellous week in Normandy with the people I love. The thousands of tombstones with names of men my age or even younger remind that the beautiful coastline was the end for all these people and a starting point for their families and loved ones. After visiting the cemeteries I did not feel like going to the battlefields. I had seen what I came to see - a strong manifestation for peace.

Trust me, it's for your own safety

Wait here
Originally uploaded by amsterboy

Third day in Casablanca. Or fourth, not exactly sure. I think fourth. Today we had workshops run a peer basis by the participants of the meeting. Really interesting discussion on issues such as:

- social responsibility of editors ("I feel that I do have a responsibility towards my readers and the society to give a broader picture of what women do and can do.")
- editor-contributor relations ("But the bottomline is that if you don't like the way your stuff is edited, you can just write to the web if you wish.")
- advertising ("Our first spread is always journalistic content, not advertisement. That is sort of a strong statement that content comes first.")

Apparently there has been a terrorist attack yesterday in Algeria. As we are in the area with most of the consulates, the fear is quite present. We have had participants ending into problems for photographing (near) the consulates and new barricades appearing every night.

I really feel awkward about this. I mean it is a somewhat twisted sense of security that guns would make unarmed civilians feel safer. i just feel that all these roadblocks and barricades just create more hatred and an uneasy atmosphere.