Alexandria, Egypt
The longest trip is when you do not know where this will end.
The longest minute when you are worried about what is coming.
In Alexandria, both are easily accessible.
Two hundred meters is all that separates us from thousands of demonstrators chanted. They had been all afternoon, walking to listen to calls for solidarity. Now it was dark, rain falls and stragglers were leaving us.
As we walked towards them, black, huge, cavernous seeps threatening side street, armed with stick men. Power lines fell between the fortunes of the aging buildings.
Nic Robertson, wife of the growing danger of
Our plan was to go to the hearing the story, and get out of our little hidden camera.
We first called, then type, which require a passport. The men with sticks were swarming us. Arguing among themselves. The men escorting us told us not to worry stay calm. The anger grew.
Our passports were taken, checked and returned. The confusion began. Who we were, why were there. Foreigners. In recent days, state media raised the paranoia at its height.
Always be wary of the intentions of the outside ", the government has managed to divide the demonstrators. Not only for and against the government, but on the nature and the portrait of the insurgency. They try by every means to break the device.
We have been involved in organizing a group of anti-Mubarak protest, we wanted to cover. We walked down the dark streets of roadblocks manned spent part of the football-playing boys, in part, the soldiers and what looked like part of the exclusion of men armed themselves with clubs from predators around now.
Several of them were closing in now. The small crowd swelled around us and sizzling. All passers-by were attracted by the drama that became our inquisition. Everyone wants to say, everyone wants to participate, to take sides, to recovery, make a decision.
We should have an official government document, an angry man in a black leather jacket was crying. It became chaotic. Everyone had an opinion. Division and disorder was widespread, people pushing and shoving, our guides apology. No responsible person.
The police left, the army and the basis for government ownership of the guard. At night the streets belong to the strong, a sort of semi-anarchy, self-regulatory standards. Society is fragmenting.
So all of a sudden we stopped, he let us go to a leather jacket. Hands resting on his shoulders, we were pushed forward towards the demonstrators. They yielded to the crowd, was pushed down convinced that we had the right to cover the protest.
For a moment, we were free. We continued to walk. Then we heard his voice yelling behind us. At other times, he was with her leather-rods embedded in a brass studs in their hands. Now he had decided. Now, a mob outnumbered and apologized.
Now, the day began and so did the walk. He told us he had been taken "in another place."
The climax was reached cry, people fight with each other, we turned around. My camera man, Todd Baxter, and I became separated from our producer Lebanon, Saad Abedine, Mohammed and fixer Alexandria. Hands pushed us the other way now.
We were spies, a man shouted a leather jacket. Impossible to know what we are made. There he had marched in the streets, his followers in his heel.
We tried to slow down and move the car on the road. To my great dismay and concern, our driver was gone. I hope that was blown any chance to drive no more. And still have no idea what we were created.
Our escort involuntary we said we were to blame for the production of Egypt in a bad light. We have put the country's image down. This is fuzzy logic that defies the evidence. What happens is willed by the Egyptians on their own countrymen. He was not listening.
No shots were planned, but the threat was clear.
The march ended at the military base. The crowd hanging around, still pushing, shouting. The soldiers cut through the chaos and took us at night was like passing day.
They were courteous, organized, quiet and polite. They took a look at our passports and camera, we will wait behind his busy schedule until the people have changed.
It's chaos out there, and they know it.
The longest trip is when you do not know where this will end.
The longest minute when you are worried about what is coming.
In Alexandria, both are easily accessible.
Two hundred meters is all that separates us from thousands of demonstrators chanted. They had been all afternoon, walking to listen to calls for solidarity. Now it was dark, rain falls and stragglers were leaving us.
As we walked towards them, black, huge, cavernous seeps threatening side street, armed with stick men. Power lines fell between the fortunes of the aging buildings.
Nic Robertson, wife of the growing danger of
Our plan was to go to the hearing the story, and get out of our little hidden camera.
We first called, then type, which require a passport. The men with sticks were swarming us. Arguing among themselves. The men escorting us told us not to worry stay calm. The anger grew.
Our passports were taken, checked and returned. The confusion began. Who we were, why were there. Foreigners. In recent days, state media raised the paranoia at its height.
Always be wary of the intentions of the outside ", the government has managed to divide the demonstrators. Not only for and against the government, but on the nature and the portrait of the insurgency. They try by every means to break the device.
We have been involved in organizing a group of anti-Mubarak protest, we wanted to cover. We walked down the dark streets of roadblocks manned spent part of the football-playing boys, in part, the soldiers and what looked like part of the exclusion of men armed themselves with clubs from predators around now.
Several of them were closing in now. The small crowd swelled around us and sizzling. All passers-by were attracted by the drama that became our inquisition. Everyone wants to say, everyone wants to participate, to take sides, to recovery, make a decision.
We should have an official government document, an angry man in a black leather jacket was crying. It became chaotic. Everyone had an opinion. Division and disorder was widespread, people pushing and shoving, our guides apology. No responsible person.
The police left, the army and the basis for government ownership of the guard. At night the streets belong to the strong, a sort of semi-anarchy, self-regulatory standards. Society is fragmenting.
So all of a sudden we stopped, he let us go to a leather jacket. Hands resting on his shoulders, we were pushed forward towards the demonstrators. They yielded to the crowd, was pushed down convinced that we had the right to cover the protest.
For a moment, we were free. We continued to walk. Then we heard his voice yelling behind us. At other times, he was with her leather-rods embedded in a brass studs in their hands. Now he had decided. Now, a mob outnumbered and apologized.
Now, the day began and so did the walk. He told us he had been taken "in another place."
The climax was reached cry, people fight with each other, we turned around. My camera man, Todd Baxter, and I became separated from our producer Lebanon, Saad Abedine, Mohammed and fixer Alexandria. Hands pushed us the other way now.
We were spies, a man shouted a leather jacket. Impossible to know what we are made. There he had marched in the streets, his followers in his heel.
We tried to slow down and move the car on the road. To my great dismay and concern, our driver was gone. I hope that was blown any chance to drive no more. And still have no idea what we were created.
Our escort involuntary we said we were to blame for the production of Egypt in a bad light. We have put the country's image down. This is fuzzy logic that defies the evidence. What happens is willed by the Egyptians on their own countrymen. He was not listening.
No shots were planned, but the threat was clear.
The march ended at the military base. The crowd hanging around, still pushing, shouting. The soldiers cut through the chaos and took us at night was like passing day.
They were courteous, organized, quiet and polite. They took a look at our passports and camera, we will wait behind his busy schedule until the people have changed.
It's chaos out there, and they know it.