From a New Vantage Point: the ACCUSED

Callixte Kalimanzira was read his second, and final judgment last week at the ICTR. Take a second to consider the accusations against this man. In 2008 he was sentenced to 30 years in prison for charges of genocide and public incitement to genocide. What could a man like this look like?? I ask you to imagine someone's grandfather, with a polite smile on his face and a hearty laugh when the defense team (including two people I greatly admire) greets him. I watched from the public viewing room as they embraced like old friends. Looking behind me, I see his family waiting anxiously to hear the verdict. They sat through this process once two years ago, the wife already looks traumatized enough. Now they wait for his last chance at a fair hearing.

There had been rumors circulating that his sentence would be greatly reduced this second and final time around, based on the errors found in the law of his previous judgment. So we sat to hear the decision of the appeals judges. In the chair next to me sat a man who is known as one of the engineers of the genocide. He recently sat in the same seat as Kalimanzira, and was freed based on his appeal. He, no doubt, was waiting to celebrate with his friend after the judgment.

For about thirty minutes a judge from Israel read us the findings of the appeals chamber. They granted many of the motions to appeal (things like insufficient evidence, unreliable witness, etc.) and dismissed the motions from prosecution to extend the sentence to life. (Mind you, this judge from Israel is a survivor of a Holocaust work camp, and he is now leading a jury to consider acquitting (setting free) a man accused of genocide.)

They come to the end of the judgment, Kalimanzira's face is solemn as the judge says something to the extent of, based on the granting of several of your appeal motions, we will substantially lower your sentence. Everyone takes a deep breath. From 30 years to 25.

I felt the weight of this mans burden, and his family's burden in the room. Heavy. Suffocating. But then it was time for lunch.

Can you imagine, now, the importance of a fair trial? If this was you and your family waiting, anticipating your last chance for freedom and vindication, how would you feel about the priceless and yet sometimes trite principal of "innocent until proven guilty?"

[a note: genocide is a very serious crime. proving that someone has partaken in such a horrific thing is likewise a very serious task. I hope that no one will ever take these things lightly. But what is the difference between the man in the chair next to me who was released, and the man that will now serve 25 years in a third world prison? A better lawyer? Does it matter that the man who was released is rumored to have committed worse crimes? watching the practice of law from the side of the defense was quite unsettling. At the very least it reminded me that law is a practice. And law might rarely equal justice.]

as the elections draw closer

The Tanzanian presidential elections are set to take place October 31. In preparation, there are party flags everywhere, on the back of cars and bicycles, on the roadside, on restaurants. Lately I have seen several people wearing flags, genius idea really, as a flag becomes a jogging jacket. Along with the flags there are political events everywhere, from roadside cafes to the corners of villages, even the chairs boast the colors of the party. But the best advertising tool seems to be the "party truck". It drives up and down every street in Arusha all day long, blasting music and showcasing dancers to promote the candidate. The idea seems to be that the loudest campaign wins, which is easy for Kikwete- the current president to pull off. He is the head of the party which has essentially held power, and therefore money, in Tanzania since the country's independence. Despite the annoyance of the lack of noise regulation regarding the campaign, I am really impressed with one thing: the general peace that comes with it.

To give you an example, Johann and I were driving through a village the other day when we got stuck between a demonstration of the opposing parties. Demonstrating the financial disparity, Kikwete's supporters were on our right side driving and honking a little ditty to cheer the president on, while the opposition group was on foot to our left giving an old-fashioned thumbs-down and a few boos here and there. It struck me how much it was like being outside a stadium before a college ball game. Many other places in Africa, or in the developing world over, political dissent results in violence. Those who are against us are dead. And yet here I am, in a country where the freedom of elections is arguable and people are peaceably demonstrating their views. Kudos to Tanzania. Seriously. Big kudos.

Meanwhile, the US general elections draw closer. Despite the strangeness of receiving and sending my ballot by fax, I have to say that I am quite glad to be missing out on the dirty campaign going on in the states. Its a sad election when you must campaign on the failures of your opponent. In the midst of all our chaos and current problems, the US could stand to learn something from Tanzania in this sense. Lets put some music on (though perhaps respecting the noise ordinances) and remember the joys of life.

from doctor visit to animal sightings

After being sick for about three weeks I sucked it up and went to see Dr. Mohammed. I took a taxi to the office, a little nervous at the prospect of seeing ANY doctor, let alone one in Tanzania. What would this be like??? At first I was both relieved and appalled that I was ushered into a private waiting room ahead of about 30 coughing Tanzanians. (Perhaps it was because I called the doctors cell phone the day before for an appointment? can you imagine having your doctors cell phone number?) Next I was ushered into the doctors room. It was split in half with a white hanging sheet, on one side I sat while a nurse took my blood pressure, on the other side the doctor was sitting with a family and a coughing, crying child. I couldn't understand the conversation, as it was entirely in kiswahili. When it was my turn, he looked in my eyes, nose, throat and ears. Listened to me cough. Then said you probably have the flu, avoid dust (good luck with that here) and take the following medicines. huh.

I learned later that the system is designed to charge foreigners a bit more for the doctor consult, so the Tanzanians can go for almost free. Mind you, I only paid 20 US dollars for the consult AND four cold remedy medicines.

I saw a beautiful blue heron yesterday. And a car-flattened hedgehog. The hedgehog actually looked like someone had squished the koosh out of a koosh ball: still totally round but flat.

Other highlights of the week include: a run through a field of wheat and acacia trees, consulting with friends about the beginning of an orphanage in Arusha over sodas, a benefit theater production put on at the Arusha Hotel about bouncers in UK night clubs, and soccer training for Arusha kids with my buddy Alfred.

Okay, enough procrastinating. Back to research!