As a New Year's present to myself, I finally updated the home page to reflect actually new work, including three cover stories I did for the Christian Science Monitor -- on leadership and the American maverick, on the world after oil, and on social media and the Arab Spring.  Those stories stretch way back to last spring... I've also featured my Pulitzer Center collaboration on peacebuilding on the homepage, because it won an award in December, and I'm happy to draw attention again to a story I think is important, and which took a big commitment of time and resources by a lot of people.  So go home already.

Last week, the Dart Society published the second issue of Dart Society Reports. The magazine's founding committee had this second issue well underway when I was hired as editor in November, but it took an even wider range of talent and commitment to bring the magazine into the world.  Our second issue is about American prisons, with a focus on solitary confinement. The issue also includes some wonderful shorter print and multimedia pieces about Shakespeare productions in a Kentucky prison, the death penalty in Iraq, and returning to L.A. after doing time.  Journalists also reflect on witnessing an execution, on corresponding with a death row inmate, and losing sources.

I've got some work from Zambia coming online soon, and a few other projects slowly making their way into the world, so stay tuned.

This was a special time in my life. I've learned that now, but then I thought it was how life always is. Curiosity drove me everywhere. I inhaled shelves of books. I lived with Homer one weekend and Dante the next. I invited de Certeau over, but only for an occasional night, and I spent long winter weekends with Jabes. I met assigned texts in the card catalog, swooped them up, and then dated all their neighbors, none ever any the wiser. Literature, which connects so acutely with my mind, is blissfully indifferent to bodies. Books are always their confident, complete selves, giving and giving and giving with not but one thing requested in return. So much better, always, than people.

I was learning to read and to think and to analyze and to critique. This was a time they call "college," and I miss it. I wrote words everywhere. Other people's words, copied by hand on butcher paper, hung from my 12 foot ceilings. Copying taught me something different than reading. I copied pieces of Szymborska's poems, and I slung them between pictures of Poland and other parts of Europe, a terrain whose trauma Szymborska masterful explored.

In those days, I spent a lot of time with the Holocaust. The Holocaust and Poland share a lot, alas, and I shared in the loss in Szymborska's words. Her work, and to a certain extent her contemporaries, but especially Szymborska -- it showed me that there can be imagination and suffering. I was contending with the whole "can there be art after Auschwitz" thing, and with the idea that you could educate for empathy, and that empathy would eliminate difference and suffering and genocide. None of these offerings seemed true to me.

Imagination and empathy do not end suffering. Suffering does not end art, which I think does its best work when it contends well with suffering. Szymborska did that, and more, and led off the dark path that ends, I've heard, in despair.

She has her moments. A bit too playful here, or too sentimental, perhaps, there. But I love her, for her work and for its place in my life, and I will defend her fiercely.

My friend Kris Kotarski, blessed with the gift that is native Polish and an ability to understand the simultaneity of whimsy and grieving in her work that I can only intuit from translation, shared the poem "The Turn of the Century" through Twitter. It's one of my favorites, and I think it's just the right one to leave off with. Kris found this poem here, though it's from the collection "Miracle Fair," which you can buy here:

"The Turn of the Twentieth Century"

It was supposed to be better than the rest, our twentieth century,
But it won't have time to prove it.
Its years are numbered,
its step unsteady,
its breath short.

Already too much has happened
that was not supposed to happen.
What was to come
has yet to come.

Spring was to be on its way,
and happiness, among other things.

Fear was to leave the mountains and valleys.
The truth was supposed to finish before the lie.

Certain misfortunes
were never to happen again
such as war and hunger and so forth.

The defenselessness of the defenseless,
was going to be respected.
Same for trust and the like.

Whoever wanted to enjoy the world
faces an impossible task.

Stupidity is not funny.
Wisdom is not cheerful.

Hope
is no longer the same young girl
et cetera. Alas.

God was at last to believe in man:
good and strong,
But good and strong
are still two different people.

How to live--someone asked me in a letter,
someone I had wanted
to ask the very same thing.

Again and as always,
and as seen above
there are no questions more urgent
than the naive ones.

Confronting Rape as a War Crime, Congressional Quarterly Press.

A 26-page overview of sexual violence in war zones, including an interview with (then) newly appointed UN Special Representative on Sexual Violence Margot Wallstrom, a look at conflicts where rebels haven't used rape, and op-eds from Zimbabwean and Ugandan women on whether UN resolutions really help protect women. A useful and comprehensive introduction to the issue.

The Pornography Trap: How not to write about rape, Columbia Journalism Review

A short essay on journalism ethics and reporting about sexual violence, especially in conflict and post-conflict zones, that analyzes why the best journalism on this works so well.

Congo War Leaves Legacy of Sexual Violence Against Women, Christian Science Monitor

Women have suffered sexual violence at the hands of soldiers and rebels in the DRC for years. Now, there are disturbing signs that civilians have learned those habits.

Liberia's civil war ended in 2006, but sexual violence against women and girls has continued -- and so has impunity for those crimes. In 2009, the country began experimenting with a court dedicated only to gender-based violence. A feature story for National Public Radio's World Vision Report.

New Study Argues War Deaths are Often Overestimated, Christian Science Monitor

Though not directly about women, women are the most vulnerable in conflict zones. This story is actually about a dispute among professionals about just how to count war dead -- a dispute which should help us ask smart questions about studies of sexual violence in conflict zones.

And, from this blog...

Rape in the DRC: Now complete with statistics!
A look at the methodologies of various studies claiming to know how many women have "really" been raped in the DRC -- ultimately asking why we think these numbers are so necessary in the first place.

Happy Birthday, 1325
A post on the 10th anniversary of the first UN Security Council resolution to put women in conflict on the map. I focus on what ordinary Burundian women's response to their civil war can teach us about peace.

A short essay on journalism ethics and reporting about sexual violence, especially in conflict and post-conflict zones, that analyzes why the best journalism on this works so well. For Columbia Journalism Review.

In the last two weeks, I've grown terribly allergic to something in my house, probably in my room.  I wake up sneezing in triplets every morning, and it's hours before it subsides.  I'm down to my last Claritin, which I'm saving for the worst of the worst, because the Benadryl knocks me out for an afternoon.

Today nearly qualified as the worst of the worst, but I'm going to Kigali, so I'm not wasting that Claritin on the three hours I'm home.  But the sneezing will not stop.  Finally, the guard asks me, "Are you sick?"  I say no, not really, but I don't know how to convey "allergies" in Kinyarwanda.

No matter; he already has his own meaning.

"In Kinyarwanda, we say that when a girl sneezes like you, so many times, it means she wants a man."

Suddenly, I wonder if the most appropriate response to, "God Bless You" may be a suspicious, "With what?"

"This time everyone has to buy the rice, so much rice. And the chicken. Even you don't take rice ever, even you don't like the chicken, you have to be having it on Christmas," my taxi man says.

I'll spend Christmas in Rwanda, which I've done every other year for the last... counting makes me feel old. This time, I'm so fortunate to be hosted in the home of a dear friend -- just like I was six years ago, when I landed a stranger, a newbie to Africa, a curious and confused early twentysomething in wonder at everything around me, and a friend of a friend welcomed me into his family's home for a holiday meal.

So I have some sense of what Christmas is like here.

UNICEF, apparently, does not. In a bizarre ad spot, UNICEF's Santa insists, "I don't do poor countries." The idea being UNICEF doesn't -- isn't that nice? -- so give them your holiday money instead! I don't follow the logic of this little ad at all, which you can watch below. H/T View from the Cave, who told me about it on Twitter.

Meanwhile, I'd like to know DO do at Christmas time. As the South African satire site Hayibo reminds us, Africans actually do know it's Christmas (so thanks 'n all, Bob Geldorf, but can you please stop asking now?).

If you're in any part of Africa, what does that the holiday like where you are?

The blog See Africa Differently gets the ball rolling, with tidbits on Christmas meals in Ethiopia, Nigeria and Madagascar. But I'd love to hear more stories -- and not just about food. How do you spend the day? If you aren't a church-goer, what do you do? If you're not a Christian, what do you do? What's the most important thing about the holiday for you?

Whether you're African because you were born here, or, as Kwame Nkumrah has it, because Africa was born in you -- if you're of the soil or you started a stranger and now you can't leave it behind, I'd love to hear how you're spending the holiday.

Stay Merry. Ignore the UNICEF Santa:

But I'm having total post-electoral depression, especially when I read this piece in Foreign Policy. Take out the context -- I can't believe I'm saying that, but try it -- and you have the same story of so many other sub-Saharan elections. I've watched four of them in the last year, and read about others.

The whole thing is so damn obviously predictable that I can't bear to point it all out. So instead, I've made this handy crib sheet, Mad Libs style, for journalists and other observers who may need to cover another election that looks exactly like the last election we covered, borrowing from (without blaming) the FP piece above. Just fill in the blanks with the relevant details. Whatever you do, don't get distracted by actually talking to citizens of the country you're covering. Especially intellectuals.

(Note to freelancers: Just because an election seems to fit the bill doesn't mean you can sell the story. Think twice before you hitch your rent payment to covering the vote in, oh, Burundi.)

It's not the media's fault, of course. There's books to be written on this whole thing... oh. wait. Wars, Guns & Votes was a bestseller? Well, surely there's another book to be written.

And if you don't believe that the media only covers elections with this formula, ask yourself if you remember reading any good analytical coverage of the recent presidential vote in Zambia. It's a huge copper producer, so "financial interest" doesn't answer the question. Peaceful country with a peaceful vote, free and fair, and then a peaceful transition of power? Who wants to read that? Especially when there are other Africans we just totally know ready to kill each other.

Covering African Elections: A Crib Sheet

These days, nowhere are crises more predictable than in __________ (poor/recently violent country). And yet, when they unfold as anticipated, Western policymakers and diplomats always seem caught off guard -- raising questions about the competence, willingness, and commitment of the ________(captial city)-based diplomatic corps and the United Nations mission to discharge their responsibilities."

"....Nothing underscores the apathy and inconsistency that characterize Western diplomacy in _____ more than the current impasse...The legitimacy crisis threatens to trigger another round of civil war in a country that has already __________ (short-phrase recap of how many people died there in recent memory, thereby justifying interest)."

"The ____________[major INGO] cited serious irregularities, including the loss of _____ (electoral documents) in _______ (city/town/village), a _____ stronghold..... Meanwhile, according to ________ (INGO) multiple locations in _______ (another city/town/village), a bastion of __________ (current ruler) supporters, reported impossibly high rates of 99 to [over] 100 percent voter turnout, with all or nearly all votes going to the incumbent." (Note: Some wisely fix this slightly lower than 99 percent; adjust as needed.)

"....As grievances and disputes over electoral law arose, the CENI [independent electoral commission] failed to provide an adequate forum for dialogue with the opposition." (Sorry, players, that one goes verbatim in every election post-game.)

".....The independence of these commissioners has been called into question as _____ has regularly shown bias against ______"

".....These same international actors remained silent about the allegations of fraud and irregularities, even as _________ (local/national orgs) denounced violence and abuses. Their silence has helped spawned (sic) a crisis that could have easily been averted."

".... ________ (incumbent) waited nearly ___________ days(/hours) to hold a news conference and react to... _____________ (oppostion's) rejection of the results.

Oh who are we kidding? This could go on forever....

"Dr Kapeza the herbalist hereby introduces new herbal medicines such as bringing back lost goods in 24 hours, attracting more custoers to your business, swollen legs, STDs, lucky charms and for those with the problem of producing children you are most welcome. Do not want to have a baby?  For more details, we are situated behind Libala Basic School."

So now, if you want some lucky charms (edible or otherwise) with your herpes medication, you know where to go...

When I described this ad to my Zambian friends later, they broke into laughter before I could even finish my sentence and yelloed in unison, "Doctor Kapeza!"  So I guess it's an ad striking to more people than just me...

In 2008, I wrote one of many, many stories about the one-year anniversary of the heroics of Wesley Autrey, the 'subway hero' who threw himself in front of an oncoming train to save  a man who'd fallen onto the tracks.  Everybody pre-reported their stories and ran them on January 2, the day of the anniversary.  I spent that day with Autrey to get a look at what it's like when your celebrity expires -- literally.

In 2009, I had a chance to collaborate with my friend, the journalist and photographer Larry Lerner, on a multimedia piece about water towers, the giant barrels on New York City rooftops that bring much of the city's residents their water.  We spent the day on a rooftop, watching a team build a new barrel from scratch, documenting it along the way.

"You have to get off," he jokes to the woman.  "It won't carry."  He chuckles.

"Me, I have no weight," she counters, with a smile.  The doors crawl toward each other.

"Look, even the doors won't close," he laughs.

"Maybe it's you," I offer.  I have seen, in only a few days here, that Zambians are straightforward folks, with a good sense of humor, but I am uncomfortable with my dare.  I usually wait more than 48 hours to participate in a new place.

"No, no, no," he insists, with a bigger smile.  "I'm smaller than she."  Everyone laughs, seeing this isn't true, but he persists.

"Women," he says, "are always big.  You know."