In The News
Withdrawal Confusion, Travel Sector Bounces Back, Anthem Mixup

The Russian military has released photos of army tanks being loaded onto railway platforms, which they say are moving back to their permanent base after drills on the country’s border, as part of Russia’s announced pull back of some of its forces from the Ukraine border.
Welcome to Thursday, where NATO allies accuse Russia of lying about withdrawing troops from Ukraine border, Airbus and Airbnb post record profits, and a soccer match sees a major national anthem woopsie. For French daily Les Echos, Johanne Courbatère de Gaudric looks at the surprising health benefits hiding in a bottle of perfume.
[*Fijian]
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• NATO says Russia lying about troop withdrawal: NATO allies called out Moscow for claiming it was moving troops back to their bases when instead it was actually augmenting its presence at the border with Ukraine. A senior White House official reported that some 7,000 extra Russian forces had arrived in recent days near the border. British Foreign Secretary Liz Truss warned that Russia could drag out the Ukraine crisis for “months,” challenging the West's united security front. On the ground, meanwhile, Ukrainian troops and pro-Russian rebels exchanged allegations that each had fired across the ceasefire line in eastern Ukraine.
• EU-AU summit 2022: The sixth European Union-African Union summit begins on Thursday in Brussels. Leaders from both continents will aim to recalibrate economic and strategic ties between European and African nations amid the COVID-19 pandemic, a recent wave of coups d’état in Africa and the worsening effects of climate change.
• Israeli missiles strike Syria: Syrian state-controlled news agency SANA reported that Israel fired several missiles targeting the town of Zakieh, located on the outskirts of Damascus. This is the second Israeli aerial strike on Syria this month.
• Airbnb & Airbus lead travel sector rebound from pandemic: Short-term-stay booking platform Airbnb announced a $55 million profit for the fourth quarter, significantly outperforming pre-pandemic levels, and bouncing back from huge losses in 2021. Meanwhile European planemaker Airbus also reported record revenues for 2021 of $4.8 billion, its highest-ever profits, contrasting with its $1.3-billion loss in 2020.
• Australia's largest coal-run power plant to close in 2025: Australia's largest coal-fired power station has announced it will shut in 2025, seven years earlier than scheduled, as a developing renewable energy mix, particularly wind and solar power, has considerably reduced the profitability of the plant.
• Dozens killed in landslides near Brazil’s Rio de Janeiro: At least 94 people have died in mudslides and flash flooding in Petrópolis, in the Brazilian state of Rio de Janeiro after hours of torrential rain.
• Anthem mixup at soccer tournament: The Tournoi de France, hosted by the French Football Federation, bringing together international female soccer teams, was off to an awkward start as the Finnish players were treated to the sound of the Albanian anthem by mistake.
Brazilian daily Extra devotes its front page to the “devastating” landslides and flash floods, which have killed at least 94 people in the city of Petrópolis, near Rio de Janeiro. The death toll could rise as rescue efforts are underway.
In a move to expand its influence in eastern Ukraine, Russia has issued passports and citizenship to 720,000 residents of rebel-held areas in the region thanks to a simplified procedure, as well as membership in the Kremlin’s ruling party and other perks. According to Donetsk’s migrant service, the number of residents applying for Russian passports has increased in the past few weeks, amid growing tensions with Ukraine.
The circular economy is a hot trend, being embraced by everything from fashion to home decor. But one industry has been upcycling for decades. And the benefits and potentials go far beyond the environment. Soon, your perfume might help you fight stress and even wrinkles, writes Johanne Courbatère de Gaudric in French daily Les Echos.
♻️ Xavier Brochet, director of innovation for natural products at Firmenich, the world's largest fragrance business, explains that in perfumery, the implementation of upcycling dates back to the increasing industrialization of perfumery in the early 20th century, when the production of ingredients began to be rationalized to increase their yield and quality while optimizing costs. For instance, for essential oils from woods such as cedar, the distilleries moved directly to Texas or Virginia, to the same sites as the sawmills that process lumber for furniture or construction.
👃 The final key element in the success of upcycling is the potential that new raw materials bring to the ingredients palette available in perfumery. LMR laboratories based in Grasse, which specializes in natural ingredients and was founded by Monique Rémy, is exemplary in this respect. "One of the first products Monique launched in the late 1980s was a beeswax extract obtained by collecting beehive cells. It was followed by ingredients such as carrot essence, obtained thanks to the sorting differences of the seed companies," says Bertrand de Préville, general manager of LMR.
🧘 Composition laboratories, brands and all the major players in the industry agree that upcycling is at the heart of their current concerns. "Today's end customers expect more than just nice-smelling perfumes. They now want products that embrace the environmental cause and provide additional benefits related to well-being," says Bertrand de Préville. Each company has its own strategy for meeting these specifications. IFF is testing the cosmetic and aromachological benefits of its upcycled materials. For example, Oakwood (from oak) has relaxing properties and promotes memory.
➡️ Read more on Worldcrunch.com
First, we had the Swedish activists’ campaign of “flygskam” or “flight shame” to discourage people from traveling in polluting airplanes in the face of the climate crisis. Now Austrian winter sport lovers must face: skischam or “skiing shame.” According to daily Die Presse, the campaign is spreading in Austria, where winter sports are extremely popular, highlighting the use of snow cannons and artificial snow to cover otherwise green-brown landscapes. Adding to the would-be shame is the fact that several coronavirus clusters originated in ski stations, including the popular Ischgl resort in 2020.
When Ingrid Betancourt announced last month she was running for president of Colombia, the celebrated former hostage said a central focus of her candidacy would be women's issues. After a candidate debate on Tuesday night, those issues have arrived in the worst possible way.
Asked by university students what society could do to better protect women's safety, Betancourt said that women's issues "concern us all," but then added: "Many times we realize, especially in the poorest neighborhoods, that women let themselves get raped, let themselves get raped by people very close to the family or let themselves get followed by criminals, who follow their route, know where they are going to go and they are predators that are chasing them who are totally unprotected.”
After her statement, candidate Camilo Romero, part of the leftist coalition, Pacto Histórico drew attention to what Betancourt had said, saying women didn't "let themselves" be followed or raped.
Enrique Gómez Martínez, a right-wing candidate, brushed off the statement, arguing that it was a language mix-up: "Don't mistreat a woman who has spoken French for 20 years,” a reference to Betancourt's dual nationality with France and French education. In French "se faire violer" means "to be raped" and has no victim-blaming connotations, unlike the Spanish "se hace violar," that she used.
But perhaps the most damning part of Betancourt's comments is that she was referencing only poor women. The other top female presidential candidate Francia Márquez Mina tweeted that the comment "legitimizes class, sexist and patriarchal violence."
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✍️ Newsletter by Jane Herbelin and Anne-Sophie Goninet
Booking your Airbnb chalet or facing your skischam? Let us know what’s happening in your corner of the world! info@worldcrunch.com
Severe weather and a lack of upkeep during pandemic shutdowns wreaked havoc on school facilities. Officials and parents are scrambling to rebuild.
A mud-walled classroom in Sheema, Uganda
SHEEMA, UGANDA — After nearly two years of repeated shutdowns due to the coronavirus pandemic, Benon Atwijuka was excited to return to his job as headmaster of Kyeihara Integrated Primary School in southwestern Uganda. But when he arrived, he realized that he had to do more than help his students catch up on the learning they had lost.
“During the long absence, animals roamed and grazed in the school compound and damaged buildings,” he says.
Parts of the buildings, which are made of mud, also eroded due to rain along with people playing football at the school’s pitch and repeatedly kicking balls against the walls, Atwijuka says. Some classrooms were so badly damaged that they were deemed unsafe. A number of teachers now hold classes in four white canvas tents donated by the United Nations Children’s Fund, known as UNICEF.
Teachers and parents across Uganda are scrambling to reconstruct schools that were severely damaged by animals, humans and the elements when left unattended during long shutdowns to control the spread of the coronavirus. Schools closed in March 2020 and reopened partially in December 2020 but were closed again in June 2021 when cases began to rise. In some instances, entire schools have fallen apart, prompting the government to advise parents to transfer their children to nearby schools, says Dr. Dennis Mugimba, a spokesperson for the Ministry of Education and Sports.The ministry has identified 51 schools across the country, including Kyeihara, that need immediate emergency repair or reconstruction, Mugimba says. “The government has already sent money to those schools for minor repairs.”
Each primary and secondary school received 4 million Ugandan shillings ($1,067) and 6 million shillings ($1,600), respectively, Mugimba says. Every school in the country has also received 1.5 million shillings ($400) to help with the implementation of COVID-19 standard operating procedures. The procurement process for construction of schools has already begun, Mugimba adds, and the process has been decentralized. Local governments that are more proactive have already received the money that the ministry allocated.
Filbert B. Baguma, the general secretary of the Uganda National Teachers’ Union, says that although the full extent of the damage is unknown, the union is in the process of assessing it and compiling a comprehensive list for the ministry. “We are trying to accurately capture the magnitude of the damage of the affected schools so that we can use the figures to advocate for them,” he says.
Some of the most damaged schools are those like Kyeihara that have mud walls. As rainwater repeatedly strikes the walls during storms, it soaks and softens the mud, making it disintegrate and erode away. Keeping the walls intact requires routine replacement of the mud when the rainy season ends. Because that maintenance wasn’t done during the coronavirus shutdowns, some of the walls collapsed, exposing the rafters that are supposed to bind the mud together.
The situation has led to low enrollment in some schools. Rauben Kabachenga, the deputy headteacher at Karugorora Primary School in Sheema, says when parents saw how dilapidated school buildings were after the pandemic shutdowns, they heeded the government’s call and transferred their children elsewhere. Karugorora now has only 99 students, down from 153 before the pandemic. “We don’t have any [seventh grade] pupils.”
We are now trying to mobilize parents, telling them that it’s our responsibility to reconstruct the school.
Miria Tumuramye, a parent of three children at Karugorora, says that even though school buildings are in poor condition, she left her children there because she likes the quality of education, and the school is closer to home.
“I kept my children here because this school has some of the best teachers,” she says.
Julius Ngabirano, the chairman of the management committee at Kyeihara Integrated Primary, who also has two children in the school, says that while some parents there have withdrawn their children, others have come together to explore ways they can reconstruct the school because they don’t expect the government to be swift. Even before the pandemic, the school’s structures were not in good condition, he says, an indication that the government may take a while to meet its obligation of building schools.
“We are now trying to mobilize parents, telling them that it’s our responsibility to reconstruct the school,” Ngabirano says.
Atwijuka, the headmaster, has also reached out to nongovernmental organizations for help. He says one of them, Building Tomorrow, a nonprofit organization that advocates for community-based school construction, has promised to help Kyeihara build a seven-classroom block, a nursery school and seven toilet stands.
Joseph Bagambaki, the country director for Building Tomorrow, says the organization has worked with communities to construct 84 schools across the country. Building Tomorrow contributes construction materials and pays for labor, he says, but the schools belong to the community.
“The community must agree before we can start building a school,” Bagambaki says. “They donate the land, provide skilled labor and feed the people working on the site.”
The district approves the project, provides the schools with textbooks, desks and staff and manages the schools, he says.
Other parents aren’t waiting for the government to rebuild their schools. When parents at Karugorora Primary returned from the first shutdown in December 2020 to find buildings falling apart, they began raising money to reconstruct more permanent structures, says Jennifer Kebeyi, the chairperson of the school’s management committee, who also has a 7-year-old at the school.
“We rallied parents and community members to raise 80 million shillings [$21,290] and began construction of a three-classroom block,” Kebeyi says.
The tents at Kyeihara Integrated Primary, which offer a temporary solution, still don’t duplicate an indoor classroom. Inside one, a teacher stands next to a blackboard near the entrance as children huddle together on benches. He tries his best to keep the students attentive, but every sound from outside cuts through the tent’s thin canvas walls, clearly distracting the students. Occasionally, children playing outside shake the ropes that anchor the tent. Another child outside attempts to zip up the flaps of one of the windows. The screeching sound of the zipper distracts the classroom again. But Atwijuka, the headmaster, says he appreciates that children no longer have to study out in the open or under the dangerous conditions of the damaged classrooms.
“We are so grateful for the donations of these tents,” he says, “as we await construction of other classrooms.”
*Apophia Agiresaasi is a Global Press Journal reporter based in Kampala, Uganda.
Severe weather and a lack of upkeep during pandemic shutdowns wreaked havoc on school facilities. Officials and parents are scrambling to rebuild.
The clumsy restoration of a mural of Christ in a Spanish chapel 10 years ago shocked, then amused Spaniards and millions more abroad, and gave the local town a level of publicity, and tourist revenues, it never had nor could have hoped for. Here's how it looks 10 years later.
It's been more than 150 days of Putin's relentless invasion, and a clear-eyed view of the war now is neither side is winning. This will make bold decisions by Ukraine's allies essential to any hope for victory.
Central to the tragic absurdity of this war is the question of language. Vladimir Putin has repeated that protecting ethnic Russians and the Russian-speaking populations of Ukraine was a driving motivation for his invasion.
Yet one month on, a quick look at the map shows that many of the worst-hit cities are those where Russian is the predominant language: Kharkiv, Odesa, Kherson.
Then there is Mariupol, under siege and symbol of Putin’s cruelty. In the largest city on the Azov Sea, with a population of half a million people, Ukrainians make up slightly less than half of the city's population, and Mariupol's second-largest national ethnicity is Russians. As of 2001, when the last census was conducted, 89.5% of the city's population identified Russian as their mother tongue.
Between 2018 and 2019, I spent several months in Mariupol. It is a rugged but beautiful city dotted with Soviet-era architecture, featuring wide avenues and hillside parks, and an extensive industrial zone stretching along the shoreline. There was a vibrant youth culture and art scene, with students developing projects to turn their city into a regional cultural center with an international photography festival.
There were also many offices of international NGOs and human rights organizations, a consequence of the fact that Mariupol was the last major city before entering the occupied zone of Donbas. Many natives of the contested regions of Luhansk and Donetsk had moved there, taking jobs in restaurants and hospitals. I had fond memories of the welcoming from locals who were quicker to smile than in some other parts of Ukraine. All of this is gone.
Putin is bombing the very people he has claimed to want to rescue.
According to the latest data from the local authorities, 80% of the port city has been destroyed by Russian bombs, artillery fire and missile attacks, with particularly egregious targeting of civilians, including a maternity hospital, a theater where more than 1,000 people had taken shelter and a school where some 400 others were hiding.
The official civilian death toll of Mariupol is estimated at more than 3,000. There are no language or ethnic-based statistics of the victims, but it’s likely the majority were Russian speakers.
So let’s be clear, Putin is bombing the very people he has claimed to want to rescue.
Putin’s Public Enemy No. 1, Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky, is a mother-tongue Russian speaker who’d made a successful acting and comedy career in Russian-language broadcasting, having extensively toured Russian cities for years.
Rescuers carry a person injured during a shelling by Russian troops of Kharkiv, northeastern Ukraine.
Yes, the official language of Ukraine is Ukrainian, and a 2019 law aimed to ensure that it is used in public discourse, but no one has ever sought to abolish the Russian language in everyday life. In none of the cities that are now being bombed by the Russian army to supposedly liberate them has the Russian language been suppressed or have the Russian-speaking population been discriminated against.
Sociologist Mikhail Mishchenko explains that studies have found that the vast majority of Ukrainians don’t consider language a political issue. For reasons of history, culture and the similarities of the two languages, Ukraine is effectively a bilingual nation.
"The overwhelming majority of the population speaks both languages, Russian and Ukrainian,” Mishchenko explains. “Those who say they understand Russian poorly and have difficulty communicating in it are just over 4% percent. Approximately the same number of people say the same about Ukrainian.”
In general, there is no problem of communication and understanding. Often there will be conversations where one person speaks Ukrainian, and the other responds in Russian. Geographically, the Russian language is more dominant in the eastern and central parts of Ukraine, and Ukrainian in the west.
Like most central Ukrainians I am perfectly bilingual: for me, Ukrainian and Russian are both native languages that I have used since childhood in Kyiv. My generation grew up on Russian rock, post-Soviet cinema, and translations of foreign literature into Russian. I communicate in Russian with my sister, and with my mother and daughter in Ukrainian. I write professionally in three languages: Ukrainian, Russian and English, and can also speak Polish, French, and a bit Japanese. My mother taught me that the more languages I know the more human I am.
At the same time, I am not Russian — nor British or Polish. I am Ukrainian. Ours is a nation with a long history and culture of its own, which has always included a multi-ethnic population: Russians, Belarusians, Moldovans, Crimean Tatars, Bulgarians, Romanians, Hungarians, Poles, Jews, Greeks. We all, they all, have found our place on Ukrainian soil. We speak different languages, pray in different churches, we have different traditions, clothes, and cuisine.
My mother taught me that the more languages I know the more human I am.
Like in other countries, these differences have been the source of conflict in our past. But it is who we are and will always be, and real progress has been made over the past three decades to embrace our multitudes. Our Jewish, Russian-speaking president is the most visible proof of that — and is in fact part of what our soldiers are fighting for.
Many in Moscow were convinced that Russian troops would be welcomed in Ukraine as liberating heroes by Russian speakers. Instead, young soldiers are forced to shoot at people who scream in their native language.
Starving people ina street of Kharkiv in 1933, during the famine
Diocesan Archive of Vienna (Diözesanarchiv Wien)/BA Innitzer
Putin has tried to rally the troops by warning that in Ukraine a “genocide” of ethnic Russians is being carried out by a government that must be “de-nazified.”
These are, of course, words with specific definitions that carry the full weight of history. The Ukrainian people know what genocide is not from books. In my hometown of Kyiv, German soldiers massacred Jews en masse. My grandfather survived the Buchenwald concentration camp, liberated by the U.S. army. My great-grandmother, who died at the age of 95, survived the 1932-33 famine when the Red Army carried out the genocide of the Ukrainian middle class, and her sister disappeared in the camps of Siberia, convicted for defying rationing to try to feed her children during the famine.
On Tuesday, came a notable report of one of the latest civilian deaths in the besieged Russian-speaking city of Kharkiv: a 96-year-old had been killed when shelling hit his apartment building. The victim’s name was Boris Romanchenko; he had survived Buchenwald and two other Nazi concentration camps during World War II. As President Zelensky noted: Hitler didn’t manage to kill him, but Putin did.
Genocide has returned to Ukraine, from Kharkiv to Kherson to Mariupol, as Vladimir Putin had warned. But it is his own genocide against the Russian-speaking population of Ukraine.