Jamaica: The Guardy and the Shame
In early December 2013 and early 2014, Kwame Dawes and Andre Lambertson traveled to Jamaica to investigate the experience of people living with HIV/AIDS in the Christian Church.
In early December 2013 and early 2014, Kwame Dawes and Andre Lambertson traveled to Jamaica to investigate the experience of people living with HIV/AIDS in the Christian Church.
Lake Tonle Sap, Cambodia’s “beating heart,” is threatened by the competing needs of a rapidly developing nation. Can a new kind of conservation save it?
In Bangladesh, one year after the worst accident in the history of the garment industry, recovery remains a fragile process.
Two States, Three Countries, Four Opponents of Fracking.
Because of the abuse they endure in Burma, hundreds of thousands of Rohingya have fled to neighboring Bangladesh.
The Rosia Montana mine is one of the oldest mines in the world, but now it threatens to destroy the ancient village it long ago built.
Twenty years after independence, Belarus struggles for freedom under the dictatorship of Alexander Lukashenko.
The remnants of Kosovo's Trepča mining and smelting complex.
Iason Athanasiadis was the only foreign journalist to be detained during Iran's post-election unrest. Here he writes about the weeks he spent inside and outside Evin Prison before and after the crackdown.
Mary Beth Lineberry, Virginia Quarterly Review
The burn ward at Herat regional hospital is the best public facility of its kind in Afghanistan. It was opened with American aid money to handle the influx of women setting themselves on fire to escape domestic abuse, a countrywide phenomenon most acute in the hardscrabble villages of the western plains. The first time I visited the hospital, in the spring of 2007, a dozen teenage girls were crowded into a dank hallway of the former building. Some were covered with third-degree burns, wrapped mummylike in gauze dressings, still breathing but condemned to die.
Print and Image by Dimiter Kenarov, for the Pulitzer Center
Baghdad, Iraq
Taking cover from death, I live in a tomb. My CHU (Containerized Housing Unit) is tightly girded by twelve-foot-high concrete T-walls. Right in front of my door, a slab of wall has been pushed slightly forward, like an oversize tombstone, so I can sidle in and out through the convenient gaps. The T-walls would not withstand a direct mortar attack; they should, theoretically, make me feel safer.