by Traci Tamura
Recently, I traveled to Nogales, Mexico to work on a CNN story with reporter Thelma Gutierrez and Senior Photojournalist Gregg Canes, about what happens to undocumented immigrants who are deported from the United States back to Mexico at all hours of the night. We spent a couple of nights on the border to meet some of the recent deportees.
We first ran into Mario, who had just been deported from a detention center in Arizona. This family man with three children was living and working in construction when he was first detained in Washington state. Mario had lived in the United States for 25 years, but now all he had to show for it was a backpack filled with dirty clothes and his weathered Bible. Mario told us he has been away from his family for almost two years and one of the things he misses most is his four-year-old son. His eyes welled up when he told us every time he calls home, his young son says, "Daddy, I want to fly over in a helicopter to pick you up and bring you back home." Mario knows that won't happen but lets his son hold on to that dream for the time being.
Next, we met 19-year-old Ariel. His mother brought him into the U.S. at the age of two, and he grew up as a typical Southern California beach boy. When we found Ariel, he was wearing his hooded sweatshirt and sitting outside a humanitarian aid office for migrants. He was a scared, dazed and confused young man who only had a backpack with a few pieces of clothes, a cell phone that had run out of minutes and a single picture of his beloved mother – who was also deported back to Mexico. Ariel was lost and not sure what he would do next since he was essentially a stranger in his strange "home" land. But as scared as he was about himself, what struck me most was how concerned he was about leaving his younger sister – who is an American citizen – behind. The love and paternal feelings he had toward his sister made him seem older than his years. But when he talked about how terrifying the whole deportation experience was for him, he seemed just like an American teenager from San Diego.
One of the last people we met on our journey was Karla, a single mother deported from Phoenix who was forced to leave her two sons – both American citizens – behind in Arizona. Without relatives to care for them, the boys ended up in the custody of Child Protective Services. Karla was brought to the U.S. with her sister and mother when she was a teenager. She’d made a home in Phoenix for 26 years until she was detained after a domestic dispute with her boyfriend. Talking through tears at one of the few shelters for deportees, she told us she misses her kids dearly but knows she can’t offer them a better life in Mexico. She tells us that if it came down to it she would rather give them up for adoption than subject them to a dangerous life on the streets where she can’t protect them. As if to punctuate our conversation, gunshots rang out in the night as we talked to Karla. We all jumped a bit. Karla told us that happens all the time and is precisely why she would not bring her children with her.
The fear of being across the border in Mexico at night lessens when you meet and talk with people who are still in the midst of their journey. When we were done with our story we had the liberty to simply drive back across the border… but it's hard to forget the people we met.
By Paul Cruickshank and Tim Lister, CNN
Merah is wanted in connection with the killings of seven people in the past 10 days. He twice visited the Afghan-Pakistan border area, in 2010 and 2011, French officials said Wednesday. And after the standoff began in Toulouse, he claimed to have been trained by al Qaeda, they say.
Paris prosecutor François Molins said Wednesday, "He has traveled to Afghanistan without using the networks known by French and foreign intelligence services, which means he went there by his own means and without going through facilitators known by intelligences services, and without going through countries usually monitored."
But Merah had appeared on the security services' radar, according to Molins. During his first trip to Afghanistan, "Afghan police checked his ID during a traffic stop, and as a result he was handed over to the U.S. Army, who then put him on board the first plane heading to France," Molins said. (A senior U.S. official gave a different account, saying Afghan forces had actually handed him over to French troops, who had him repatriated.)
Merah had been under surveillance by French intelligence for years, according to Interior Minister Claude Gueant. Even so, he was apparently able to visit the Afghan-Pakistan region a second time and then accumulate weapons after returning home, including an Uzi machine pistol and an assault rifle, plan a series of attacks in Toulouse and Montauban, and force the French government to step up security precautions nationwide.
The jihadist trail
French authorities believe that between 20 and 30 French nationals are tied to jihadist groups in the Afghanistan-Pakistan border area. However, one French intelligence estimate in 2010 put the potential number as high as 200 or 250.
In 2008, a group of militants traveled from France to Pakistan's tribal areas, where they joined al Qaeda, including Hamza el Alami, a French citizen of Moroccan descent. Alami was killed in fighting in the border region.
In fall 2010, another militant returning from the region and suspected of meeting with al Qaeda operatives was arrested on suspicion of plotting a terrorist attack in France.
France's growing Pakistani diaspora has added to concerns about travel flows to Pakistan. French intelligence services have invested heavily in keeping tabs on nationals who have made the trip recently.
In April 2011, two French nationals were arrested in Lahore, Pakistan, after meeting with Umar Patek, an Indonesian al Qaeda-linked operative. The two - one of whom was of Pakistani descent, and one of whom was a convert to Islam - met Patek so he could transport them for training in North Waziristan, according to Pakistani intelligence officials.
Radicalization in Europe
What is unclear is when and how Merah was radicalized, whether online or through membership of a radical Islamist group in Europe. Gueant said Wednesday that Merah became radicalized amid a small salafist group in Toulouse and had connections to a group called Forsane Alizza ("Knights of Pride"). But there is no evidence that any of its members was involved in or aware of his plans.
Forsane Alizza was outlawed in January by the French government, which alleged that it was a terrorist organization training members "for armed combat." For its part, the group said its mission was to fight Islamophobia and has said it will contest the government's decision.
But its website used militant language such as calling for "soldiers" to defend Muslim women. And while there is no evidence that Forsane Alizza has been involved in acts of violence, it has certainly promoted the threatening rhetoric of others, glorifying Yemeni-American cleric Anwar al-Awlaki, who was killed last year.
One member suggested that the right-wing Swiss politician Oskar Freysinger deserved a "bullet in the forehead." Freysinger has campaigned against permitting minarets on mosques in Switzerland.
Forsane Alizza also seems to be tied to a group called the Force de Défense Musulmane sur Internet, which campaigns to have Islamophobic material removed from websites.
Forsane Alizza appears to have been strongest in Paris and the central French city of Limoges, where several of its members were arrested in 2010 after invading a McDonald's restaurant and shouting anti-Semitic slogans. The group has also protested a French law banning women from wearing a full veil in public places and posted a number of well-produced videos of its protests in French cities.
Its outlook appears very similar to other radical Islamist groups in Europe, such as Islam4UK in Britain and Shariah4Belgium, as well as Revolution Muslim in the United States. Videos purportedly produced jointly by Shariah4Belgium and Forsane Alizza have been uploaded to YouTube in the past month.
Islamic radicalization increased in France in the 2000s, fueled by growing militancy in social media, the role of French troops in Afghanistan, and the Palestinian issue. Bleak socioeconomic prospects in the suburbs of French cities where many French Muslims of North African descent live, the rise of the far right in France and the government's ban on the niqab (full veil) has added to the sense of grievance felt by some young French Muslims.
Unlike in the United States or Britain, French laws restricted the ability of French radical groups to freely proselytize, but according to some analysts, the lack of a public pressure valve may have itself been dangerous.
Before his death, Osama bin Laden tried to tap into the grievances of Muslims living in France. In an October 2010 audio recording attributed to bin Laden, he attacked the French ban on the niqab.
"The equation is very clear and simple: As you kill, you will be killed; as you take others hostages, you will be taken hostages; as you waste our security, we will ... waste your security," bin Laden said.
That message, and similar audio and video postings from the likes of Awlaki, resonate with a fringe of marginalized young Muslim men living in the poorer quartiers of French cities, with little prospect of work and regular confrontations with police. According to French officials, Merah had a series of convictions for petty crime and had been turned down for army service.
Al Qaeda changing gears
Al Qaeda propaganda and recruitment efforts have shifted emphasis in recent years, from spectacular attacks on the scale of 9/11 to "do-it-yourself" attacks that require less training and planning. In June 2011, the group's media production arm As Sahab released a video titled "You Are Only Responsible for Yourself,"encouraging followers to carry out acts of individual terrorism in the West.
In the recording, Oregon-born al Qaeda spokesman Adam Gadahn said it was easy for American al Qaeda sympathizers to go to a gun show and purchase an automatic assault rifle without having to submit to a background check.
Al Qaeda's Yemeni branch has been especially vocal in encouraging lone acts of terrorism. Its English-language magazine Inspire has a section dedicated to helping terrorist sympathizers in the West carry out attacks, including bomb-making recipes.
According to authorities, one such formula, "How to Make a Bomb in Your Mom's Kitchen," has been downloaded by individuals plotting terrorist attacks in both the U.S. and the UK.
Five months after the liberation of Libya, the country remains largely unstable. But that's not keeping some adventurous tourists from venturing in to explore the country. They're curious to learn about what Libya was like before - and since the revolution - despite the possible dangers. Jomana Karadsheh has the BackStory.
In recent years, you've seen CNN's coverage of events in Cuba fronted by our friend, Shasta Darlington, but Shasta has moved on to a post in Brazil... and friend-of-BackStory Patrick Oppmann has taken over in Havana. Being the ultimate self-sufficient reporter that he is, Patrick documented his entire journey to Havana... including his long wait for a truck load of belongings to show up. Take a look...
Also, be sure to check out one of our all time favorite Back|Story pieces from CNN photographer Jose Armijo and, then, Havana producer David Ariosto as they made one of the most unique commutes we've seen back in 2009:
From Nima Elbagir, CNN
London (CNN) - From his London hospital room, journalist Paul Conroy recalled Sunday his harrowing journey to hell and back from Syria - speaking out against what he called its "murderous regime" in tribute to those, including his colleague Marie Colvin, killed in the chaos.
Few foreign journalists have been in the Middle Eastern nation in recent months, as Syria's government has stringently restricted access amid widespread violence that the United Nations estimates has left more than 7,500 people dead.
President Bashar al-Assad's government blames "armed terrorist groups" for the bloodshed. Yet senior U.N. official Lynn Pascoe told the Security Council last week that often over "100 civilians a day, including women and children" are being killed - most of them the victims of what activists and witnesses have described as brutal attacks by Syrian government forces.
Conroy spoke to CNN at length, days after surviving a bloody attack and surreptitiously escaping from the ravaged city of Homs to Lebanon and eventually back to his native Britain. After spending several days in Syria, both reporting and lying wounded in an embattled medical center, he had no doubts about who was responsible.
Part 2 of CNN's Interview with Paul Conroy:
"It's really hard when you've got people presenting you with bits of people saying, 'Why aren't you helping?' What can I tell them?" Conroy said. "It's not like we don't know what's happening anymore. We do know."
His colleague at Britain's Sunday Times' newspaper, Colvin, had been with him earlier in February when they sneaked into Homs, which has been a hub of the resistance movement and government crackdown.
Conroy called the experience - without government minders, into what had been a largely imagined situation until then - "an eye-opener (given) the level of butchery going on."
After what they'd seen already, Colvin couldn't stand to just head home, he said.
"Marie was on fire," Conroy said. "She couldn't let this go. Two days wasn't enough."
So they returned to Homs to find "the situation was going downhill, almost by the hour." They talked with CNN and the BBC, intent on doing whatever possible to get the news out.
Around 8:15 a.m. the next morning, February 22, the building they were in took a direct hit, filling the air with dust and smoke. Several more blows followed.
Conroy remembered feeling "massive pressure" and knowing he'd been hit. He later was found to be severely wounded in his stomach and leg.
"So I ran through where the door had been and, on the way out, more or less tripped over Marie's body and fell down next to her," he said. "Her head was covered in rubble, her legs were covered in rubble, and she was obviously dead."
Activists soon risked their lives and dragged Conroy outside, threw him in a car and took him to the field hospital - "ironically, what we'd been trying to get to for two days."
A room, fitted with mattresses, became home to Conroy and another wounded journalist, Edith Bouvier of France, for the next five days. He learned that, in addition to Colvin, another journalist, Remi Ochlik, also was killed, while colleague William Daniels had survived the attack.
Yet there was little peace. Conroy said. Every day, there was "the most savage and ferocious bombardment" imaginable - reporting even what he called an "Iranian drone flying around, looking for targets."
Then late one afternoon, ambulances descended on the hospital. The initial word was first that there was a cease-fire and that Red Cross representatives would be on hand soon to take him, Bouvier and others home.
But Conroy said Red Cross workers didn't show up, just civilian Red Crescent members "with no diplomatic presence."
A delegation member who was trusted by the Free Syrian Army - the armed opposition group, made up largely of Syrian military defectors, who had looked after the journalists - said that he heard Syrian state television planned to film the two being put on ambulances, then government forces would stage an attack that they'd later blame on the Free Syrian Army.
Conroy said he was confused, but determined to get out.
"When you see bodies of kids with sniper rounds through the head, what's a journalist who had two of their roommates killed (to think)?" he said. "I'd rather die on the ground than wait for some lunatic to come in and start (shooting)."
A short time later, after borrowing shoes and pants, Conroy said he got an injection from doctors - "I just said put anything in, because I knew it was going to be a very painful experience" - and got into a Free Syrian Army vehicle. He emerged on a street, then found "most of the buildings" that had been there a few days before were "gone."
Part 3 of CNN's Interview with Paul Conroy:
Conroy said a rope was tied around him, and he was lowered about five meters (16 feet) into a tunnel. There, he and a seriously wounded boy, roughly 10 years old, joined a driver on a small motorbike.
"We just drove off, into this night, in this tunnel," he said, adding that he learned Syrian forces shot up the same tunnel some 20 minutes later.
Yet he got out safely on the other end, being put on a stretcher and then placed in a "van full of dead and sick guys." The rest of his voyage consisted of "a series of motorbike rides (and) car journeys," at times past sporadic attacks and through battlefields.
Finally, Conroy said he was dropped off at a house, where three men were sitting watching television, with their machine guns nearby.
"And I thought, well, I better ask: Are we in Syria or Lebanon? They went, 'Lebanon,'" he said. "I just kind of sat down and had a toke of a ... cigarette...
"That's the first time that I felt I could actually allow myself to celebrate. I made it out. But I couldn't be delighted because nobody else was there with me. I was on my own."
Soon he was in the home of Tom Fletcher, Britain's ambassador to Lebanon, and eventually back in his native England. Last Friday, both Bouvier and Daniels returned to France - with the opposition group Avaaz claiming it helped them escape.
Now, dressed in a hospital gown, Conroy is on another mission: to get the word out about what's really going on. That is the best way, he figures, to reflect the spirit and mission of Colvin and other journalists killed in Syria.
And he would return, he says, if only to challenge the Syrian government to an open debate about what they have done and what they'll do next. Conroy said he's convinced "this regime will continue to exterminate civilians. They will massacre them. They will not stop."
"If you are big enough to throw your army in to kill the women and children, then be big enough to have a conversation about it," he said. "If you've got nothing to hide, come and do it.
"I'd go back, absolutely."
CNN's Natalie Allen went with an adventure-philanthropy group to explore Vietnam. She ended up building a new playground for the children of the Catalyst Foundation in the coastal town of Rach Gia. Children in this area were previously living and playing around a large trash dump. Families around the border of Cambodia and Vietnam frequently have to worry about the harsh reality that their children could be sold to the sex trafficking industry.
By Natalie Allen, CNN
Twelve-year-old Dieu wears a bright-green top sprinkled with yellow flowers as she squats in a pile of garbage with her mother.
The two talk and laugh while their hands work quickly, sorting plastic from the discarded food and waste.
A full bag will bring their family just pennies. But this is their life’s work. They live on a dump in Rach Gia, Vietnam, part of the Mekong Delta.
Dieu’s little sister, one of nine siblings, watches from the family’s two-room shack. One of her brothers sits on a nearby tombstone with his dog. The dump lies on an abandoned cemetery, and the above-ground tombs are the only places to sit that aren’t covered by trash.
Some 200 families live on this and one other dump in Rach Gia. They are three generations of Cambodians who fled the brutal Khmer Rouge regime in the 1970s. It’s the only home they have ever known.
What they eat and what they wear is often from what they find in the trash. For the longest time, the children didn't even know flip-flops were supposed to match.
But there is a danger here far worse than filth or poverty.
Human traffickers prey on these poor people’s desperation. Children are bought and sold here, some for as little as $100. The parents sell because they are tricked into believing that the buyer has good intentions, that their children will have a promising job and a promising future. They so badly want to help their sons and daughters escape poverty.
Oftentimes, however, the children end up as sex slaves.
“The trafficker looks like your mom, (the trafficker) doesn't look like a bad guy," said Caroline Nguyen Ticarro-Parker, who founded the Catalyst Foundation to help Dieu and other children in Vietnam's poorest communities.
The kids are sometimes stolen, too, when they make their long walk into town to sell lottery tickets.
“When we started, we knew of a house that was at the entrance of the dump, and we know girls were being taken in there by traffickers and being raped,” Ticarro-Parker said. "If they screamed, then they were let go. If they didn't scream, then they were taken. And the girls were as young as 4."
Lessons for survival
After leaving Dieu’s dump, I arrive at another one just as a sanitation truck leaves behind a fresh pile.
People scurry with picks and bags and start sorting. They work day and night alongside their children. At 1 a.m., when the last truck of the day arrives, they all don headlamps to work in the dark.
I follow a mother who carries her baby to the family’s shack. One could barely call it that; it is nothing more than tarps strung together for shelter. Bowls of discarded food are covered in flies. Clothes dry on barbed wire.
The mother lays her baby in a net strung up as a hammock. After rocking the baby to sleep, she heads back out to work in the dump.
Another parent offers me his baby when I arrive. He is cradling a little boy, months old, wearing a colorful striped hat. The father swats flies away from the child’s face. He mistakenly thinks I am here to buy his baby.
Ticarro-Parker’s family fled Vietnam when she was a child. She returned as an adult to give back to her homeland, bringing clothes to the poor. But when she stumbled onto the families of the Rach Gia dumps, she knew much more had to be done.
She went back home to Minnesota, started raising money and eventually opened a school for the children of the dump.
Lesson one: Arm the children with cell phones so they can call for help.
“It sounds weird, but we gave the prettiest girls the cell phones first,” Ticarro-Parker said. “They’re most at risk.”
Lesson two: Teach the children to read so that if they are taken, they can read city signs and call the school to let them know where they are.
That happened in 2008. Four girls were taken, but the traffickers were caught because the girls had a cell phone and knew how to read a road sign to give their location.
Lesson three: Teach the children to run if strangers approach.
That’s exactly what 13-year-old Hanh did when men, presumably traffickers, chased her and her brother as they walked home on the last day of school in 2010. She did what she was taught and ran. But while getting away, Hanh fell into a canal and drowned.
Ticarro-Parker fights back tears recalling the tragedy: “She died doing what we asked.”
Before she died, Hanh was interviewed for the school’s first brochure. Next to her picture is a quote of what hope meant to her: “Hope is my school.”
School is the only hope for these children, Ticarro-Parker says. It strengthens the entire community.
"When we started it was 99% illiteracy,” she said. “None of the parents (at the dumps) knew how to read and write, the children had never been to school.”
They are now down to 40% illiteracy.
“The children are understanding that they could be the generation that doesn't work in the dump,” Ticarro-Parker said.
The school also teaches parents the cold hard truth: what will really happen to their children if they sell them.
In 2006, before the school opened, more than 37 girls from the dumps were sold to traffickers by their parents, Ticarro-Parker said. In 2011, only four were sold.
'A catalyst for change'
Inside one of the school’s two classrooms, a boy writes in his notebook. He clutches a blue pen with fingers covered in dirt, black under all his fingernails. The children are dirty, but their maroon-and-white school uniforms are crisp. Across their backs reads, “be a catalyst for change.” And they all wear shoes that match.
Outside is the sound of a power saw. Volunteers are here to build a playground for the school, which was built on a rice paddy on the edge of the town.
It will be the first real playground these children have seen.
One Vietnamese woman helps the volunteers with sanding and toting wood. She is working to pay off a debt to the school. She sold her teenage daughter to traffickers – twice – and the school helped get her back both times. Now the woman works to pay off her debt.
When the playground opens, the children are waiting. They swarm. Up the climbing wall, down the slide, over the monkey bars, onto the swings. They have to be taught how to pump their legs and pull the ropes to make the swings move. They don’t have any idea how it works. They learn quickly, however, and are soon flying high.
Dieu, on the seesaw, screams with joy as a row of girls fall like dominoes onto the sand in hysterical laughter. Seeing their smiles and hearing their joy, it is hard to believe these children live on a garbage dump.
"Over the last year and a half, the boys and girls have been happy,” Ticarro-Parker said. “They want to be singers and teachers and doctors and architects. Suddenly they have a career in mind. …
“We're not going to eliminate trafficking. We are not going to change this whole culture of girls feeling unworthy of themselves. But we're going to change this group of girls. We're going to change 200 girls. It's going to happen, one girl at a time."
The atmosphere in New York was full of excitement after the Giants won the Super Bowl. American football is serious stuff for sports fans. Sebastian Castro had a bit of fun in Times Square with the excited crowd.
Richard Roth met some fans in Lower Manhattan who were still excited about the win days later. Here he is talking to fans and dodging bathroom tissue.
The founder of a French company that makes breast implants linked to a health scare was charged Friday with involuntary injury. Jean-Claude Mas, founder of Poly Implant Protheses, or PIP, has been released but is under judicial control, meaning he cannot leave France. He has not been charged with the more serious offense of involuntary manslaughter.
PIP implants have sparked health scares in Europe and South America. A French attorney representing women with implants welcomed the arrest, but said it could have come sooner. The company has been under investigation since 2011.
Atika Shubert and her producer Saskya went around Southern France to investigate what is going on with PIP and how this all could've happened.
We also spoke to Dr. Grant Stevens, a plastic surgeon in Los Angeles, who talks about the problems he's had with PIP breast implants and how to keep yourself safe.
Last week, we told you about the nasty sectarian battle brewing in Israel between ultra-Orthodox extremists and more moderate religious Jews. Well as Kevin Flower reports, the debate definitely isn’t going away.
Our next episode of The Revealer takes place here. Can you guess where this photo was taken and what our next Revealer episode may be about? Put your answers in the comments section below. The first person with the right guess will be revealed on Thursday.