[Trigger warning: human trafficking]

With all due apologies to diacritic pedants: O is for Östermalmstorg.

Where? Östermalmstorg. The Stockholm street on which the headquarters for the Swedish Salvation Army is situated, obvs. And therefore the birthplace of one of the campaigns that I am proudest of in my Salvation Army career, the first to be orchestrated in a pan-European basis; one which you will almost certainly not have seen, but intentionally so – more of that anon.

The quandary had been posed by the European anti-trafficking taskforce (headed by Jeroen Hoogteijling): how do we most effectively raise awareness of the prevalence of modern slavery and do something to tangibly reduce it? To address the issue, a handpicked subset of the European Communications Network (led by Lars Beijer) had joined the group at a meeting in Stockholm to fathom out a way forwards. I was there for my creative juices and with my perspective on logistics and international collaboration.

The two-day gathering was well facilitated. A presentation by the taskforce on the prevalence and insidiousness of the murky world of trafficking galvanised us, and the ensuing discussion was productive and effective. (Note to self: build fika into every meeting where creative output is required.)

We proposed a two-fold strategy. Firstly, a series of online adverts designed to attract those who might be inadvertently contributing to the problem by gravitating towards situations where forced labour is commonplace. And so a raft of fake advertisements was dreamt up for bargain services such as car washing, nail polishing and massages. On clicking the ads, the ‘bait and switch’ would reveal to the punter that the too-good-to-be-true offer was, in fact, false, but if it had really existed would be highly likely to make use of trafficked individuals, and thus grow that dark economy.

The second prong was to address those who might be enticed into similarly too-good-to-be-true job offers, and so find themselves at the mercy of human traffickers. Fake jobs ads in languages appropriate to ‘source’ countries were devised, with highly attractive wages for unskilled builders, individuals who might wish to work in the entertainment industry, etc.

It was a bold, daring and brave campaign. Not seen the ads? Good. To make the campaign as effective as possible, it was targeted specifically at individuals either likely to be lured by unrealistic ‘bargains’ or those liable to take the plunge into employment in the gig economy without due diligence.

Overnight, Östermalmstorg became snowbound as unforecast but heavy snow fell on Stockholm. By way of juxtaposition with the life-or-death matters being discussed inside, the new found playground gave us an opportunity to have an impromptu snowball fight before the heavy discussions resumed on day two. That element of fun with colleagues, from right around the world, cannot be undervalued. A team that laughs together can share other emotions authentically too. And in this line of work, where establishing an emotional connection with the output is key to its success, that is vital.

Buy wisely, friends. What you do with your money is important.

N is for New York.

Well, it had to be really. The Big Apple (no idea why). The City So Nice They Named It Twice. The Center (I know) of the Universe. The City That Never Sleeps.

Work has taken me to or through New York a number of times, and for a variety of reasons. Chief among these is the fact that NYC is home to The Salvation Army International Social Justice Commission (ISJC) which is part of International Headquarters but located close to the United Nations Headquarters. (Lunch in the Delegates Dining Room with its great views and global cuisine comes highly recommended.)

First impressions of New Yoik are disorientating. It’s every bit as big, brash and bustling as the stereotypes would have it. And yet it’s also strangely navigable (no thanks to the Subway, which is inexplicably and insanely complicated). Because its landmarks are indelibly burned in to one’s consciousness through film and television, it quickly takes on a mysterious homely quality, from which one can even find surprising patches of peace, tranquility and beauty!

But this walk through history is largely supposed to be about my dalliance with The Salvation Army, so let me refocus.

Highlights:

• Participating in a mind-blowingly good international media symposium, organised by the awesome Joe Pritchard and featuring a creative writing seminar with award-winning screenwriter Todd Komarnicki (Elf, Sully) and the opportunity to watch the latter film in his company at a private screening
• Presenting my Faith and Social Media research to the same enthusiastic audience (!)
• Meeting and training ISJC staff and interns (under the leadership of Dean Pallant and others), to ensure social justice issues have always been prominent, accurately portrayed and accompanied by practical action points so that people around the works
• Worshipping with other Christians at the dedicated UN prayer space adjacent to the general assembly building
• Attending a moving 9/11 memorial on the fifteenth anniversary, to mark The Salvation Army’s role as the first relief agency to be authorised to assist at Ground Zero

New York is also the place where I (eventually) met Joseph Halliday, who was at the time one of the ISJC interns, but whom I managed to lure to International Headquarters. He’s proved to be an exceptional creative force, colleague and friend, working across the whole digital portfolio with incredible skill and dedication. It seems like I’ve known him forever, and we have that rare connection where we often seem to know what’s in the other’s brain before it needs to be fully expressed. I have thrown countless mad ideas at Joe, which he has always turned into something far better than I could have done myself. So for that, and your constant support and for being a first-rate companion on international visits, thank you Joe. I will miss you enormously.

At the midpoint of my musings, we go way back. Returning to International Headquarters last week after my leaving lunch (salmon fishcake, poached egg, frites, pea shoots and tartare sauce, rounded off with a crème brûlée, since you ask), I had a chance encounter with Charles Durman, who reminded me of our time at The Salvation Army United Kingdom and Ireland Territory.

Part of my remit there from 2003-2009 was to look after a few hundred largely volunteer web authors. Charles was one of these. The idea was that every part of The Salvation Army – geographically and functionally – would be able to add updates to a single website that in time would become the hub of all things national and local.

And so it came to pass that I devised a half-day training module that could cover the basics of using the content management system and also cover some key digital communications principles. I held this at least once a month in the IT training suite at the office, but also regularly took the training out and about, liaising with regional communications colleagues (such as Ann Stewart and Adrian Prior-Sankey) to gather together trainees in locations the length and breadth of the British Isles.

This was always quite hairy – one could never be 100% sure who would turn up, whether the internet would cooperate and quite what the spectrum of experience might be at any one place. But as Charles will hopefully attest, they were invariably convivial, illuminating and fun. And, as much as the training itself, it was the genesis of building a trusted network of go-to people who could be relied upon to be eyes and ears (and, occasionally, mouth!) when things went wrong.

The regional training took me all over the place, from the esoteric delights of Hatfield Peverel to Perth in the Scottish Highlands. My final such workshop in May 2009 took place in Douglas on the Isle of Man (there, we got to the point eventually), which is an independent island in the Irish Sea and not part of the UK. As well as being my final web training workshop, it was also notable as being the only time I have accessed a work location via horse-drawn tram. I seem to recall that the internet connection was similarly Victorian, but the delegates (and trainer) made it through intact in the end.

A couple of times now I’ve been invited by Frelsens Hær, The Salvation Army in Denmark, to help document what has become an annual fixture in their calendar. With the enormous support of the Lego Group, and with a vast number of buses and coaches, thousands of disadvantaged families are given a day out at the theme park devoted to the brick. Everything is literally awesome!

The day is such fun that it barely registers as ‘work’, though that does risk underplaying the huge amount of planning and preparation (and on the day coordination) that a large team invests.

The outing is designed to help empower families and restore dignity. Legoland is so ubiquitous in Danish culture that there is a risk of exclusion for those not able to afford tickets. And as well as admission, generous donors provide each family with vouchers valid in the theme park’s many restaurants, snack stalls and sweet shops. This has led to some unintended hilarity, with some families’ only experience of dining out being predicated on TV shows, and therefore clicking their fingers and calling ‘garçon’ to attract attention. Fortunately, the Legoland staff take this in their stride and genuinely love the day The Salvation Army visits.

Waiting outside the main entrance as opening time ticks closer, it’s easy to see why. As each coach disgorges its passengers, a team of Salvation Army volunteers check names off lists and issue the tickets to broad smiles and palpable excitement. And then attendees melt into the crowds and become ’normal’ theme park-goers. They are the same as everyone else, able to enjoy the rides they want, able to eat the meal they want. It is truly levelling.

So after a Facebook Live hit at the entrance with organiser Lars Lydholm and filming the bus ballet in the parking lot, it’s actually quite difficult to pin down members of the Salvation Army party until they leave the park at the end of the day. Then begins the logistical challenge of reuniting each person with the correct bus, for journeys home to every part of Denmark.

I said ‘levelling’. Maybe that’s not quite true. The smiles have not diminished throughout the day, perhaps just augmented by candy floss around young mouths! But I think it may also add a skip to the step of participants way in to the following week, and beyond.

Lars tells the story of an occasion where, for operational reasons, Legoland needed to host The Salvation Army the day before its season properly began. One young mother was therefore seeking permission from her child’s nursery to take the day off. The teacher looked concerned: ‘I don’t think Legoland is open that day.’ The mother quickly retorted: ‘Well, it is for ME.’ What a moment of skyrocketing self-esteem for a young woman in a vulnerable situation.

It’s been so wonderful to see this kind of enriching activity firsthand. It’s probably not the first thing that comes to mind when thinking of The Salvation Army, but – in my view at least – it’s right up there with ‘most important’.

Tak, Danmark.

I’ve already shared about visiting Nepal shortly after the 2015 earthquakes, but one particular incident stood out.

On arrival, DOP Gaz was not feeling at all well, so we all felt it was best for him to rest at The Salvation Army’s Sisters Café, the location which had become the hub of the disaster response. So it was left to just John Murray and me to shadow the emergency services team (headed by the wonderful Carol Telfer) as they went out on a food distribution to one of the several communities they were supporting.

Although not a huge distance away, the journey was complicated by damaged roads. In fact, even loading the truck required a human chain, as it wasn’t possible to get close to the makeshift warehouse.

By the time John and I arrived at the site, the combination of the two previous weeks in India, heat, altitude and the effects of the ever-present dust were starting to affect me. Lugging the filming equipment around took me to the edge of my exertions, and I was pretty much a spent force once we’d done a single piece to camera.

I don’t think I actually expressed my exhaustion (and certainly not in Nepali), but I do remember just sort of pathetically clinging to the tripod for support. And then, from literally nowhere, came a kind-faced lady with a chilled bottle of Fanta. This was the most refreshing drink that has ever passed my lips. Cool, fresh, revitalising.

I thanked the woman fervently, trying desperately to remember the local phrase for expressing gratitude (dhanyavada, hopefully). But I was struck quite deeply by the ‘otherness’ of the situation. Here I was, the other side of the world, part of a team bringing relief to communities who had lost pretty much everything in a terrible natural disaster. And somehow, even though we were feeding them, the tables had spontaneously turned, and this woman had somehow noticed a need and found the only bottle of refrigerated Fanta in greater Kathmandu. And was now offering it freely to me. Of course, in reality, there is no ‘them and us’. It is all ‘us’.

The holy Fanta had its intended effect, and I was back in action a few minutes later. Gaz also made a speedy recovery back at Sisters, so the rest of our visit went smoothly. We were able to witness the loading of a MAF helicopter at what remained of the international airport, filling up with USAID supplies for distribution in a remote village in the mountains that had been completely cut off. Given my recent experience, I wondered how the villagers would receive the airborne stranger bringing them kindness, carbonated or otherwise.

A recommended part of my MA Media Communications study back in 2015 was to attend and participate in an Internet Governance Forum (IGF). Fortunately, my employer agreed that this would be of benefit and my application was accepted.

The event, the tenth IGF, was themed ‘Evolution of Internet Governance: Empowering Sustainable Development’ and was held in a spangly new conference centre in João Pessoa on the eastern tip of Brazil. I attended on behalf of ‘civil society’, and in fact there was much of relevance to The Salvation Army as well as my Masters research. In the opening plenary session, Brazil’s Minister of Communications, André Figueiredo, observed that equitable access to the internet for those not yet connected was a pressing social justice issue. He called on business, private enterprise and the charitable sector not to tolerate a situation where the gulf between the haves and the have nots could widen further.

Over the week, there were ample opportunities to address this point (and the related topic of education and empowerment, especially in minority groups). The other big topic, which was hugely relevant to my studies was data privacy – Wikileaks was hot news, the Right to be Forgotten (Max Schrems et al) and its implications was fervently debated and government surveillance of internet use was in the spotlight following the revelations of Edward Snowden.

Being a UN-led event, security was extremely high (technically, the conference centre had been ‘denationalised’ and was international territory requiring passport and security checks both entering and leaving). I found myself in small discussion groups (and sometimes larger, more formal round-tables) with ambassadors, high commissioners and the great and the good from business, academia and the scientific community. A real highlight was a speech by Vint Cerf, one of the ‘founding fathers’ of the internet. In it, he captured a hope that the tool which was intended to benefit all would still, one day, achieve that laudable goal.

The Brazilian government hosted us well, with free meals and drinks for the duration of the event, which was an unexpected bonus (particularly as the agreement was that such frippery would be a personal expense). There was an opportunity to visit some local historic sites, which also enabled me to travel on the local railway – João Pessoa is one of very few Brazilian cities with a passenger train service. And my commute for the week, from a simple but comfortable, cool posada in central João Pessoa was just idyllic – a mile-long walk along a pristine palm-lined beach, followed by a free 20-minute air conditioned shuttle bus journey.

Such a privilege to be part of IGF, and to have had an opportunity to argue directly for greater equity in technological provision. And, actually, to have a measure of confidence that generally people across the spectrum agreed.

The European refugee crisis of 2015-2016 was big news, and The Salvation Army was actively responding to the needs of newly-arrived migrants in numerous countries. At the time, of those making the oft-reported dangerous boat journeys across the Med, around 97% were remaining in Italy or Greece. This presented special challenges for The Salvation Army’s Italy and Greece Command, being a relatively small part of the organisation.

I was tasked to travel to Rome to shoot a short film documenting what was being done. Enormous thanks to then General Secretary David Cavanagh and Rome corps officer Estelle Blake for making the visit run far more smoothly than it might otherwise have done.

Not only was David knowledgable and eloquent on camera, and able to unpick the complex situation succinctly, he was also patient and resourceful in the face of equipment that wasn’t overly cooperative. Most such pieces to camera would make use of a tripod. This one ended up being cobbled together using a stepladder and a washing up bowl. Suboptimal. At least donors can be reassured that we were not a high budget operation draining the organisation’s coffers.

What you don’t see in the video is the warmth and openness extended to me in Rome (and, come to think of it, everywhere I’ve travelled with The Salvation Army). I’ve been generously welcomed into people’s homes, fed, watered and generally looked after. When away from home, this has been a special and sincerely appreciated thing. The inclusion and camaraderie has been genuine and meaningful.

Estelle, who I’d first met in Kings Cross two weeks after the 7/7 London bombings, very kindly offered to help with my Masters research by sharing with me her experiences of social media as a British ex-pat living and working abroad. And there were biscuits!

She also invited me to church on Sunday morning, where – again – I was genuinely included. Someone sat with me throughout the service whispering a translation to me. But the big surprise was the group of Kenyan migrant women who sang and danced with such enthusiasm and verve. It’s fair to say this element was something I had not predicted, and I may have been temporarily open-mouthed while my brain caught up. The down-to-earth honesty of worship here was quite a contrast to the bling but sterile Vatican I’d toured the previous day.

The retrospective continues. Today’s is in memory of Isaac Siundu.

One of the advantages of working for The Salvation Army’s international headquarters is the bird’s eye view it affords. I had become aware of some communications training and development needs in Africa, and was in a position to do something about it.

First, I completed an audit of all the organisation’s communications output and effectiveness across Africa – the first time I’d done this on anything more than a national basis. But the data reflected the anecdotal evidence I’d been mulling.

Next, I worked with the exceptional Deborah Condon to flesh out a viable format for a week-long training conference and the inauguration of an Africa Communications Network, rooted in the principles of sharing of ideas and best practices integral to the European group that I’d benefited from being part of. Deb liaised with the incomparable, ever-cheerful and much-missed Isaac Siundu, to masterfully negotiate the choppy waters of budgets, logistics, invitations and visas.

And so it came to pass that we found ourselves in an extremely well-equipped and cooperative hotel and conference venue just outside central Harare, welcoming delegates from every country in Africa that has a Salvation Army presence. Also benefiting from the skills of Kevin Sims and Menno de Boer, over the course of the week we introduced various communications disciplines from identifying audiences, developing key messages, writing for different channels, crisis communications and liaising with media. I’d also been able to negotiate the involvement of the BBC’s Zimbabwe correspondent, Shingai Nyoka who added an extra dimension and credibility that was invaluable.

But, as ever, I learned just as much as the delegates. Even in the first ice-breaker session, where I set teams a task of recreating a Lego model unseen by all but ‘the communicator’, I discovered that the ubiquitous building block was not as ubiquitous as I’d thought. And, more professionally, I learned a lot more about media freedoms from some of the delegates who had been expected to pay journalists for media coverage.

The group bonded really quickly, with many of us attending church together on the Sunday prior to the official commencement, and a fabulous cultural evening of dance and song put on for us by the local Braeside Salvation Army. They also invited us to share in local delicacies such as crickets, mopane worms and other ‘interesting’ fodder. Being super-professional, we grazed on the veritable bushtucker trial in front of us, so as not to embarrass our hosts. Hosts who we found a short while later guffawing loudly about the gullible Europeans, and only then did the potato crisps make an appearance!

A field trip to Howard Hospital, serving an extremely remote community a two-hour-plus ‘lumpy’ drive from the capital, provided an opportunity for delegates to put their learning into effect, and again proved to be a memorable moment.

While in Harare, I also had the opportunity to flit across to a separate peace building conference and present on the impact that the media can have on engendering (or defeating) peace. Unforgettable stories from Salvation Army delegates at that conference about the near-death experiences they had had in the pursuit of peace.

A final highlight – our visit coincided with Zimbabwe’s premier music and arts festival and we were able to secure tickets for every delegate. It absolutely tipped it down with rain, but it didn’t dampen spirits. Such a fantastic week, which led to so many new friendships and a vastly improved capacity for communications for The Salvation Army in Africa. So glad to have played a part in it.

Tucked away in a rabbit warren of side streets in this Barcelona community is a small Salvation Army church. At first glance, it’s fairly unremarkable. But visit early in the morning, as I did during a 2017 conference elsewhere in the city, and its vital role in serving the locality is laid bare.

Dozens of the city’s homeless population were already waiting outside as I arrived a few minutes before opening time. Inside, today and every day, the small team is preparing scores of sandwiches and pastries, and getting ready to serve gallons of hot drinks.

With military precision, the doors are flung open as the bells of a neighbouring church chime. There’s a good-natured vibe as the men, women and occasional straggly dog flock in.

The church leaders make sure to speak to every attendee individually. There is a register, so that it’s possible to identify any regulars who aren’t there in case they might have any extra needs to check up on. And it’s immediately clear this isn’t just about free food. The electrical sockets are in constant use, recharging battered mobile phones. The toilet facilities are particularly appreciated, with hot water and soap. But mainly it’s an opportunity to sit down somewhere comfortable and chat, without being moved on. A safe space. A sanctuary in its purest form. The attendees were keen to talk to me about what this place meant to them.

This is ‘just’ a church – it’s not a fully fledged social services centre. There are no special facilities. But it’s exactly what I have come to appreciate most about The Salvation Army. Identifying a local need, often among society’s most vulnerable and ostracised people, and doing something practical about it. And it happens in, at last count, 132 countries – most commonly in very local and low key settings like this.

No judgment. No strings attached. Just demonstrable love and care. Christianity with its sleeves rolled up.

Gracias Gracia.

One of my principles when travelling internationally – not official Salvation Army policy, though it has always been supported – is always to look for multiple possibilities for potential storytelling.

And so it came to pass that, en route to a conference elsewhere in Brazil, a 24-hour stopover in Rio could be factored in at pretty much nil extra cost. The benefit of this was that Rio would shortly be hosting the Olympics, and The Salvation Army was planning a significant range of activities in support.

But telling the story with less than a day available to gather the information was quite a task. Fortunately, I was helped massively by the leader of The Salvation Army in Greater Rio, Major Dan Ford. He and I had immediately clicked during our pre-visit phone calls and email exchanges, and he had a good understanding of what we wanted to achieve. He was also in a position to gain access to the various facilities and individuals that we felt would help tell the story, and very helpfully went above and beyond by acting as my guide and chauffeur for the day.

The favelas in Rio are numerous and notorious for their high levels of often violent crime. And, as is typical, The Salvation Army faces this head on. It operates three major full-time projects right in the heart of these communities (and several smaller scale ones), offering a range of support and particularly providing children a safe place to go before/after school. There is an extremely high likelihood that children will be drawn in to drugs cartels or gun/knife crime if not offered more meaningful activities. In The Salvation Army’s centres, the response to this was sport, dance, music, art, craft, help with homework, counselling, an almost unending list…

Even on my whistlestop visit (barely five minutes on Copacabana beach!), I did see some fearsome weapons on display. Major Dan on occasion suggested I should lower my camera to make it clear I wasn’t filming. Tensions were sometimes high. But I also met some of the most wonderful kids, with realistic hopes for their future and such gratitude for the relationships being nurtured with them. Not just ‘after-school club’, but a treasured investment in their lives.

You can read my piece for All the World magazine here: https://issuu.com/salvationarmyihq/docs/atw-january-march_2016-web/16