Benjamin Hall

Nota: Este archivo abarca los artículos publicados por el autor desde el 1 de febrero de 2009. Para fechas anteriores realice una búsqueda entrecomillando su nombre.

In the Syrian city of Aleppo, there are neighborhoods that are almost entirely abandoned; blocks of buildings with their facades blown off, apartments open to the street; and other buildings, intact but empty, their curtains billowing out the windows. Broken water pipes have turned roads into debris-clogged rivers. And tribes of cats stalk around like predators; every now and then you pass one lying dead on the ground, its body torn apart by sniper fire.

The snipers, both rebel and regime, are everywhere. The MIG jets are always overhead, and shelling continues day and night. You cannot escape the smell of dead bodies, and it feels as if it is only a matter of time before you are hit, too.…  Seguir leyendo »

From my hotel balcony I can see this city of nearly 700,000 in all its modernity and all its madness. I can see the desiccated mountains of Iraqi Kurdistan encircling us — hills that on my last visit, during the rainy season, were covered in poppies. I can see the Ferris wheel that was built as a symbol of freedom on the ruins of one of Saddam Hussein’s prisons. And I can see 20 armed soldiers watching me from below, making me feel anything but free.

This is Sulaimaniya. I can see mosques around the city and I can hear their calls to prayer.…  Seguir leyendo »