MUNICH â€" Rick Henderson, a 56-year-old American, took out his mobile phone to show a blurred, 10-second clip from BBC of a young woman in France who is surrounded by men, and is being groped from all sides.
â€œThey are like wolves,â€ said Henderson, a self-defense trainer in Germany, adding that â€œwomen should never be victims. Never.â€
The women at the â€œPrimabellaâ€ gym listened closely to Henderson, who prepared them on how to counter physical attacks from male perpetrators. Aggression should be met with aggression, said Henderson, who uses words sparingly. â€œThe more aggressive the more success,â€ he said. â€œRemember, inflict maximum pain.â€
A growing number of women have approached Henderson for training in the aftermath of the New Yearâ€™s Eve attacks in Cologne, Germany, in which scores of women were sexually assaulted and robbed by gangs of men.
Henderson, who has been working in Munich since 1995, frequently puts up handmade posters advertising his courses as he cycles from one appointment to the next. Large, red letters on these flyers spell â€œWARDâ€, Women Aggressive Reaction Defense. But itâ€™s not just individual women who make up his clientele. Henderson said his customers include groups, companies, and individuals, both men and women.
At 5 feet, 7 inches tall, Henderson is not large, but very toned. He describes himself as a â€œmartial artistâ€ and said that, â€œit is the goal of martial arts to create peace and harmony, rather than destruction.â€
His chosen title has much to do with his childhood. Growing up in the south of the U.S., he was often beat up because he was smaller than his classmates. He started to build himself up at the gym as a result, and later joined the Army. He even picked up kickboxing. He traveled to China, where he learned Kung Fu, a fighting style, and Qi Gong, a form of gentle exercise that includes meditation. To Henderson, martial arts are about enabling the poor and weak to defend themselves against others.
During his class in Germany, Henderson coached women to brace themselves in a low, broad stance, when they are attacked by men from behind. This position would then enable women to strike the attacker in the face by using the back of their head or their elbow, or even by spinning to smash their hipbone into the assaulterâ€™s groin. Henderson advised women to be quick in their attack and then run.
â€œYou should not need to fight but you should know how defend yourself should the situation arise. No one has the right to grope you,â€ he said.
Henderson said he wants to help women avoid getting into these situations in the first place. Women often do not pay attention to their surroundings because they listen to music or look at their smartphone, making them easy marks for perpetrators, he said. If a group of men are aggressively coming on to women, women should cross to the other side of the street to avoid them.
At one point, Henderson suggested that women should avoid wearing revealing clothing as it would draw unsolicited attention, a view that sisters Julia and Carolin Hölscheidt, who were attending the course, vehemently countered. No one has the right to attack women, no matter what they wear, the siblings said, but acknowledged that Henderson was preparing them for the worst.
Henderson made women practice lying on the floor and showed them how to defend themselves from an attack. They should protect their faces and block the attacker; and then the women were taught to aim for the perpetratorâ€™s testicles with well-directed kicks.
â€œYou only have one chance and you have to hit the bullseye,â€ Henderson said.
Local villagers in western India have been forced to live with a mining waste site on the edge of town. What happens when you wake up one day and the giant mound of industrial waste has imploded?
BADI — Last week, when the men and women from the Bharwad community in this small village in western India stepped out for their daily work to herd livestock, they were greeted with a strange sight.
The 20-meter-high small hill that had formed at the open-cast mining dumpsite had suddenly sunk. Unsure of the reason behind the sudden caving-in, they immediately informed other villagers. In no time, word had traveled far, even drawing the attention of environment specialists and activists from outside town.
This mining dumpsite situated less than 500 meters outside of the Badi village in the coastal state of Gujarat has been a matter of serious concern ever since the Gujarat Power Corporation Limited began lignite mining work here in early 2017. The power plant is run by the Power Gujarat State Electricity Corporation Limited, which was previously known as the Bhavnagar Energy Company Ltd.
Vasudev Gohil, a 43-year-old resident of Badi village says that though the dumping site is technically situated outside the village, locals must pass the area on a daily basis.
"We are constantly on tenterhooks and looking for danger signs," he says. Indeed, their state of alert is how the sudden change in the shape of the dumpsite was noticed in the first place.
Can you trust environmental officials?
For someone visiting the place for the first time, the changes may not stand out. "But we have lived all our lives here, we know every little detail of this village. And when a 150-meter-long stretch cave-in by over 25-30 feet, the change can't be overlooked," Gohil adds.
This is not the first time that the dumpsite has worried local residents. Last November, a large part of the flattened part of the dumpsite had developed deep cracks and several flat areas had suddenly got elevated. While the officials had attributed this significant elevation to the high pressure of water in the upper strata of soil in the region, environment experts had pointed to seismic activities. The change is evident even today, nearly a year since it happened.
It could have sunk because of the rain.
After the recent incident, when the villagers raised an alarm and sent a written complaint to the regional Gujarat Pollution Control Board, an official visit to the site was arranged, along with the district administration and the mining department.
The regional pollution board officer Bhavnagar, A.G. Oza, insists the changes "aren't worrisome" and attributes it to the weather.
"The area received heavy rain this time. It is possible that the soil could have sunk in because of the rain," he tells The Wire. The Board, he says, along with the mining department, is now trying to assess if the caving-in had any impact on the ground surface.
"We visited the site as soon as a complaint was made. Samples have already been sent to the laboratory and we will have a clear idea only once the reports are made available," Oza adds.
Women from the Surkha village have to travel several kilometers to find potable water
A questionable claim
That the dumpsite had sunk in was noticeable for at least three days between October 1 and 3, but Rohit Prajapati of an environmental watchdog group Paryavaran Suraksha Samiti, noted that it was not the first time.
"This is the third time in four years that something so strange is happening. It is a disaster in the making and the authorities ought to examine the root cause of the problem," Prajapati says, adding that the department has repeatedly failed to properly address the issue.
He also contests the GPCB's claim that excess rain could lead to something so drastic. "Then why was similar impact not seen on other dumping sites in the region? One cannot arrive at conclusions for geological changes without a deeper study of them," he says. "It can have deadly implications."
Living in pollution
The villagers have also accused the GPCB of overlooking their complaint of water pollution which has rendered a large part of the land, most importantly, the gauchar or grazing land, useless.
"In the absence of a wall or a barrier, the pollutant has freely mixed with the water bodies here and has slowly started polluting both our soil and water," complains 23- year-old Nikul Kantharia.
He says ever since the mining project took off in the region, he, like most other villagers has been forced to take his livestock farther away to graze. "Nothing grows on the grazing land anymore and the grass closer to the dumpsite makes our cattle ill," Kantharia claims.
The mining work should have been stopped long ago
Prajapati and Bharat Jambucha, a well-known environmental activist and proponent of organic farming from the region, both point to blatant violations of environmental laws in the execution of mining work, with at least 12 violations cited by local officials. "But nothing happened after that. Mining work has continued without any hassles," Jambucha says. Among some glaring violations include the absence of a boundary wall around the dumping site and proper disposal of mining effluents.
The mining work has also continued without a most basic requirement – effluent treatment plant and sewage treatment plant at the mining site, Prajapati points out. "The mining work should have been stopped long ago. And the company should have been levied a heavy fine. But no such thing happened," he adds.
In some villages, the groundwater level has depleted over the past few years and villagers attribute it to the mining project. Women from Surkha village travel several kilometers outside for potable water. "This is new. Until five years ago, we had some water in the village and did not have to lug water every day," says Shilaben Kantharia.
The mine has affected the landscape around the villages
Resisting lignite mining
The lignite mining project has a long history of resistance. Agricultural land, along with grazing land were acquired from the cluster of 12 adjoining villages in the coastal Ghogha taluka between 1994 and 1997. The locals estimate that villagers here lost anything between 40-100% of their land to the project. "We were paid a standard Rs 40,000 per bigha," Narendra, a local photographer, says.
The money, Narendra says, felt decent in 1994 but for those who had been dependent on this land, the years to come proved very challenging. "Several villagers have now taken a small patch of land in the neighboring villages on lease and are cultivating cotton and groundnut there," Narendra says.
They were dependent on others' land for work.
Bharat Jambucha says things get further complicated for the communities which were historically landless. "Most families belonging to the Dalit or other marginalized populations in the region never owned any land. They were dependent on others' land for work. Once villagers lost their land to the project, the landless were pushed out of the village," he adds. His organization, Prakrutik Kheti Juth, has been at the forefront, fighting for the rights of the villages affected in the lignite mining project.
In 2017, when the mining project finally took off, villagers from across 12 villages protested. The demonstration was disrupted after police used force and beat many protesters. More than 350 of them were booked for rioting.
The villagers, however, did not give up. Protests and hunger strikes have continued from time to time. A few villagers even sent a letter to the President of India threatening that they would commit suicide if the government did not return their land.
"We let them have our land for over 20 years," says Gohil.