I guess there is fighting breaking out near Baidoa in southern Somalia. This is the city where the UN backed government sits, but it is a flashpoint because the Islamists (UIC), who are in control of most of the rest of southern Somalia see the government there as being propped up by Ethiopia. But you already know about all of that stuff from reading the news.
It’s actually the news that I wanted to comment on, and not the situation in Somalia. I was struck by this odd little question inserted into the BBC’s breaking story:
Are you near Baidoa? Send us your experiences
Interestingly enough, I was recently reading that for all of it’s problems (warlordism, lack of potable water, about a quarter of all children dying before their fifth birthday, something like 1 doctor per 75,000 people, etc.) Somalia is one of the most advanced African nations when it comes to telecommunications. This is attributed to the lack of a government, which makes it easier to set up businesses because you don’t have to worry about taxes or corrupt officials taking your cash. (I sure am glad nobody reads this thing, because otherwise I’d have to have links to all that stuff up there. Wikipedia this ain’t. Trust me though, I read it somewhere or another.)
This means that it is not completely out of the question that a person near Baidoa might be able to log onto the BBC and give them a full run down of the day’s activities. I’m surprised they aren’t asked to upload videos as well. After all, if you want to see war now, just type Ramadi into Youtube.
It does make me think though, as much as I don’t like to, about events beyond my own little world. There might be a real person in Baidoa or Mogadishu reading the BBC, who at the moment is beginning to get an unsettling feeling from the reports, the sound of shelling in the distance, and their own knowledge of their surroundings, and in the midst of their anxiety the rest of the world, so inquisitive, asks politely “Are you in Baidoa? Send us your experiences.”
Send us your experiences. A packaged delivered to the BBC with famine and lawlessness inside, bet they’re sorry they asked for it now as bullets rip through the cubicles. Send us your experiences… in printed format.
I know that it’s important to “stay informed ” and stuff, but staying informed is very often associated with a type of arrogance, like when news stations boast of being ‘your most trusted source,’ or the music and backdrops they display reflect an undeniable sense of urgency. How many viewers are themselves in an urgent situation when watching this crap, or more precisely, are in the urgent situation being described?
If you are in Baidoa, would becoming a cub reporter for the BBC really be that much of a priority. If I was in Baidoa, I’d be packing my bags and getting ready to head west to become a refugee in Ethiopia. I’d be miserable and scared more than anything else.
This reaching out on behalf of the BBC to the citizens (are people citizens when there is no real government?) of Baidoa, reminds me in a way of a radio broadcast I heard in 1994. I know what I am about to tell you is shocking and you won’t believe me at first. I also don’t have any links to prove what I am telling you is true, but if you really want it confirmed you can ask Jon Manders, because he was there when this happened.
It was the summer of 1994 and Manders and I were roommates in Boston, where we worked as inflatable Coke cans as part of promotion for the World Cup. I know some people were on the internet back then, but it was definitely before we were. Those were the days when if you wanted to find weirdos, you couldn’t just google an outlandish phrase, you had to religiously read the editorial page of the newspaper and look up the authors of the most insane letters in the phone book, or scan the AM dial trying to find the most off the wall preacher.
Such were the strategies of Manders and myself during that lovely summer. One time, we got bored of scanning the radio for the obscure, and opted just to listen to Pete Rose’s radio show. In retrospect, it seems odd that Manders agreed to listen to Rose, because Manders was never much of a baseball fan, but by tuning in he was about to hear one of those moments in sports that a true fan will wait a lifetime hoping to experience, an event that transcends all the statistics on the back of a bubble gum card and puts things in a completely new perspective.
An alarmed caller got on the line. “Pete, I don’t know if you can see what’s going on teevee right now, but…”
At this very moment, O.J. Simpson was in the white Ford Bronco. The caller and Pete discussed what was going on. They agreed that they were both worried. The caller mentioned that Rose and Simpson probably had crossed paths a number of times, and Pete responded yes, they weren’t extremely close, but they had met a few times and had a lot of respect for one another. That’s when it happened.
I am paraphrasing here, but I bet I am extremely close:
“You never know, Pete. O.J. might be listening to the radio to try to take his mind off things. I mean, we all know that people listen to radio when they are in their cars. It’s conceivable that he might just, at this very moment, be listening to this show.”
“You know something, you’re absolutely right.”
“Pete, if O.J. is listening, what would you say to him?”
For the next two or three minutes Pete Rose, working under the assumption that O.J. Simpson was listening to the Pete Rose Show (or whatever it was called) attempted to convince O.J. to stop the Bronco. He said all the things they say on cop shows when there is a hostage situation or when somebody is about to jump off a tall building. In short, it was really awesome.
It was one of those moments in which you don’t realize what has happened until a few seconds after it ends. I’m not saying that I wasn’t immediately amazed that Pete Rose could be that easily convinced that he could help O.J., on the contrary, I was completely dazzled by his stupidity (Pete, if you’re reading this, I don’t think you’re stupid. Just that one time. You were awesome with the Phils, and they would have never won in ‘80 without you. When Boone dropped the ball and you caught it in game six, THAT WAS AWESOME, DUDE! I think you should be in the Hall.). It was only afterwards however, that I realized, with a sharp needle of regret making its way into my joy, that I may never again hear something as patently bizarre as that “conversation” between Pete and O.J..
If you’re in Baidoa, let me know what it’s like. I am curious.
Funny, I was listening to the radio at those same Bronco moments. Only, it was WCRB, Classical Radio Boston. And as that was before they went automated, an announcer was actually in the studio. I’ll never forget how magnificently he broke all the rules:
[After announcing the title of the previous selection.] “Ladies and gentlemen, while it is not written in the rulebook of radio, that we should never, ever advise you to turn on the television, nevertheless we don’t do it. Except tonight, because something really fascinating is happening in Los Angeles and you probably won’t be sorry you saw it. Then you can come back to us.”
I rushed downstairs, got the scoop, and immediately called my Dad, who I later learned called several of his friends.
Ah, the memories…