Special correspondent Kristen Gillespie looks at an unusual effort in Jordan, where an unlikely champion of animal rights is trying to end widespread abuse and help her canine friends.

Read Kristen Gillespie’s blog about adopting one of the rescued dogs, A mistreated dog gets a new home in Amman.

This is how Faith was found by representatives from the Humane Center the day of the puppy mill raid in north Jordan. Photo: Kristen Gillespie.

Worldfocus special correspondent Kristen Gillespie writes about a furry friend that she acquired while doing a Signature video on puppy mills in Amman, Jordan.

Faith got her name shortly after her rescue from a notorious puppy mill in rural north Jordan. Her muscles were atrophied, her body emaciated, her eyes infected, her teeth were broken, and yet, her spirit was intact — hence her name.

Not all of the 38 puppies and 32 dogs that were rescued made out so well. Some had gone crazy, others turned aggressive.

When I went to the Humane Center to work on this report, I began to notice Faith. She moved slowly, her eyes were still red and swollen and she was always quiet.

When the dogs would go outside to play every day after the shelter closed, Faith seemed more interested in getting attention from visitors than in running around. One day, the door to the shelter was slightly open and Faith slipped inside as the dogs sometimes do.

Usually, they run gleefully through the halls. But when I went in to retrieve Faith, I noticed she had gone back to her kennel and sat inside it, waiting for someone to come and close the gate.

“She’ll spend the rest of her life here at the Center,” said Margaret Ledger, the center’s director. “Months had passed since the rescue and no one had shown any interest in adopting her,” she added.

I started making excuses to go to the shelter and visit Faith. She seemed perfectly content, climbing up next to me on the bean bag in the shelter’s reception area and watching the world go by.

When I decided to adopt Faith, she spent much of the first several weeks at home sleeping and eating. Her eyes cleared up. The walks grew longer, her muscles developed and she turned into a happy, loving dog who learned how to play for the first time.

Faith enjoys her new life. Photo: Kristen Gillespie

While Faith and most of the rescued dogs and puppies found a happy ending in their new homes, the bigger picture in Jordan remains grim. In the weeks following the raid, the owner of the puppy mill demanded her dogs back, saying that she would sue for the $150,000 she claimed the dogs were worth.

By all indications, the law in Jordan would have granted her the dogs. The Worldfocus report on puppy mills, however, was enough to pressure the government into the exceptional act of producing a letter giving full custody of the confiscated dogs to the Humane Center and releasing them from legal limbo.

With no animal protection laws in Jordan, dogs are commonly stolen and sent into puppy mills or sold at the downtown market, with owners paying hundreds of dollars for their own dogs.

It’s not just puppy mills - people have begun breeding dogs to make money with almost no knowledge or hygiene standards. Puppies are often sick and sold far too young.

The government controls the stray animal population by regularly sending out armed teams to shoot stray dogs in the city streets at all hours of the day. Animal abuse on all levels goes unpunished, and the mills continue to operate unhindered.

I sometimes show people pictures of Faith and the 69 other dogs that were rescued that day on the personal authority of Princess Alia, a concerned member of Jordan’s royal family.

Recently while flipping through the pictures I looked more closely at one of Faith, chained to the side of the building with her muzzle covered in dust. The faraway look is one of deep sadness and despair.

Now when I look into her eyes, I know that Faith has truly come home.

- Kristen Gillespie

Our signature stories delve into issues around the world — from the long-term effects of Agent Orange in Vietnam and gang violence in Mexico to discrimination against whites in South Africa and Afghan immigrants in Iran.

Here are the 15 Signature stories most popular with viewers in 2009:

	MOROCCO Moroccan single moms cope with hostility, shame	Young Muslim women who become pregnant out of wedlock face intense pressures. They are often shunned and scorned. Hoda Osman, Rebecca Haggerty, Megan Thompson and Reda Fakhar report on how mothers are coping.
	HAITI Dirt poor Haitians eat cookies made of mud	The cookie recipe — dirt, butter and salt — has been passed down through the generations, despite a lack of nutritional value. Benno Schmidt and Ara Ayer report on how these dirt cookies are managing to keep Haiti’s poor alive.
	JORDAN Oprah brings taboo topics to Middle East	The Middle East’s MBC-4 began airing “The Oprah Winfrey Show” more than four years ago, and the program now reaches about 6 million viewers in the Arab world each day. Kristen Gillespie reports from Jordan on the ”Oprah effect.”
	VIETNAM Agent Orange devastates generations of Vietnamese	During the Vietnam War, the U.S. dropped millions of gallons of Agent Orange, a toxic defoliant. Generations of Vietnamese civilians have suffered the consequences. Mark Litke and Ara Ayer report on the devastating effects the toxin has left behind.
	MEXICO Gangsters spill blood and spread fear in Tijuana, Mexico	Over the last year, more than 6,000 people have been murdered in Mexico’s drug wars, more than 700 of them in Tijuana alone. John Larson, Bryan Myers, Megan Thompson and Ivette Feliciano report from Tijuana.
	SOUTH AFRICA Poor white South Africans blame reverse discrimination	To some extent, the economic playing field has been leveled since the end of apartheid 15 years ago. Martin Seemungal reports on South Africa’s white community, where poverty has doubled since 1994.
	JAMAICA One island, two Jamaicas and a ‘whole heap’ of difference	A public debate erupted when graphic Dancehall music lyrics and images were banned from Jamaican radio and TV. Lisa Biagiotti, Micah Fink and Gabrielle Weiss report on how the ban highlights the divide that dates back centuries.
	ISRAEL Israeli company builds infrastructure for world’s electric cars	One Israeli company is designing an entire system to service electric cars with battery charging stations. Many other countries are expressing great interest. Michael Greenspan, Yuval Lion and Ara Ayer report from Israel.
	LIBERIA Liberia, “America’s stepchild,” searches for own identity	Liberia was settled by freed American slaves, and now, as Lynn Sherr and producer Megan Thompson report, the nation is trying to re-shape its identity. Liberia, a small country in West Africa, has longstanding ties to the U.S.
	LATVIA Empty stores, offices tell tale of Latvia’s economic fall	Until the global recession, Latvia was experiencing rapid economic growth. During the past year, it has tumbled down, with unemployment around 14.5 percent. Daljit Dhaliwal, Sally Garner and Ara Ayer report on the scope of Latvia’s fall.
	IRAN Afghan immigrants find refuge in oil-rich Iran	Though the West has branded Iran a nuclear outlaw and supporter of terrorism, Iran is a model of stability compared to its neighbors. Three million Afghan immigrants in Iran are low-skilled laborers. Richard O’Regan reports from Tehran.
	DENMARK Taxes curb Danish oil use, promote energy independence	In Denmark, a Ford Focus costs $51,000 — $34,000 of which is in taxes. John Larson explains how taxing energy and subsidizing alternative technologies have reduced the country’s dependency on oil and created thousands of jobs.
	INDIA India’s “untouchables” trudge through sewers	While India has largely transformed into a modernized economy, the country remains strongly tied to the traditions of the caste system, which often governs the jobs that people hold. Martin Himel reports on India’s lowest class of laborers.
	TURKEY Rising Islamist movements challenge secularism in Turkey	Secular critics are branding Turkey’s growing conservative groups as fundamentalist. Gizem Yarbil and Bryan Myers report on how traditional religion and modern democracy are trying to coexist.
	PHILIPPINES Journalists risk their lives reporting in the Philippines	Today in the Philippines, journalism is robust. But more than 70 journalists have been murdered since 1986. Mark Litke and Ara Ayer report on the risks that many reporters face doing their jobs — from Manila to rural areas.

Worldfocus special correspondent Kristen Gillespie reports on sexual attitudes in Beirut. Read her blog from in the field: Beirut’s underground gay community congregates discreetly.

Gemayze has a vibrant night life. Photo: Kristen Gillespie

Worldfocus special correspondent Kristen Gillespie reported on the signature story “From streets to clubs, sexual attitudes shift in Lebanon.” Here, she writes about her experience reporting on the underground gay community from a small bar in Gemayze. 

It’s Friday night at a bar on a side street in Gemayze.

Two young women sitting at the end of the bar discreetly hold hands. The female DJ wears a T-shirt that reads, “My boyfriend is out of town.” Everyone in the bar is female. In the underground gay community, Friday nights at this particular bar is known to be ladies’ night. The gay scene in Beirut, says one woman while sipping her drink, “is big, but people aren’t open about it. You have to know where to go.”

The woman, 33, lives at home, but her parents don’t know that she is a lesbian. For now, they don’t have to. For younger people looking to date casually, it’s not difficult to meet people, have fun and stay in the closet.

But for homosexual couples looking to have a serious relationship — or children — the choice often boils down to staying in Lebanon and compromising, or moving abroad. I ask if it bothers her that she can’t be “out” with her partner. “What I want is to live with my partner and have a family. But realistically, I wouldn’t be able to have children and give them a good life here.” It upsets her that she would have to leave the country to do that. “We’re not there yet,” she says about Lebanon.

As it gets later, the music gets louder, the drinks keep coming and the narrow bar fills up. Another woman, 32 years old, sees me taking notes and comes over to chat. She echoes the sentiments of the first woman, emphasizing that she will remain in the closet. Her parents ”will never know” about her, even as they pressure her to get married. She is unsure how things will turn out for her.

The bar hosted at least a couple of dozen women that night, most of whom probably live at home with their parents. While Beirut is the most gay-friendly city in the Arab world, it is still a conservative society where gay couples are not socially accepted.

Homosexuals are at the beginning of a struggle for rights in Lebanon. It is one that will set an example for the rest of the Arab world.

- Kristen Gillespie

See more Worldfocus coverage on Homosexuality Around the World.

Worldfocus special correspondent Kristen Gillespie ventures through Lebanon’s vineyards.

Below, she blogs about her experience in the field.

From the Field

Let’s be up front about it: this story is unapologetically biased. I love Lebanese wine.

Putting together this story wasn’t exactly a hardship assignment. There are so many excellent producers in Lebanon, but I chose Chateau Belle-Vue because Naji and Jill Boutros represent a new generation of winemakers. It’s not just about the product — they are creating meaningful social change in their village while producing organically grown, award-winning wines. Jill made sure we had tasted plenty of samples from the oak barrels, which is where the wine from each specific grape variety lies for two years until it is blended to create a new vintage.

Chateau Ksara is one of Lebanon’s oldest producers, and aside from the consistent quality of their wines, the miles of mysterious, Roman-era subterranean tunnels fuel speculation as to what they were used for. Ksara graciously opened their doors, and their wine cellars, for us to film.

Another top producer not to be missed is Chateau Kefraya, which produces a reliably crisp Blanc de Blanc for about $6. For travelers to Lebanon, it’s available, along with many others, at Beirut’s airport.

Sahtain! (Cheers!)

- Kristen Gillespie

In the back corner of the fourth floor of West Hall, the Secular Club shares a small room with the Palestine Culture Club. The room is big enough to hold a few desks and chairs.

As we get ready to film the discussion, the students start joking about how the space is divided down the middle of the room by a row of paper Palestinian flags taped to the ceiling. Typical Arab unity, says one, Palestinians alone and everyone else on the other side. Laughs all around.

But it’s the most practical arrangement, says another, and everyone agrees. A poster of Yasser Arafat from the 1970s is turned to face the wall. For this filming, the Secular Club is crossing into Palestinian territory.

I was looking for a student club to talk to for this report and happened to wander in to West Hall, where Ahmad, the young man with the dark beard and leather jacket who participated in the roundtable discussion, was exhibiting his watercolor paintings. One is on the poster for the Secular Club, seen in the report.

Ahmad and some other friends from the club sat down to talk about secularism as the only solution for the future of Lebanon. A system based on religious quotas means a fractious, divided society where intermarriage is discouraged and people live within prescribed geographical and social boundaries.

It’s common for a taxi driver who lives in Muslim West Beirut not to be familiar at all with major landmarks in sections of Christian East Beirut. He may never have even been there before, just a few miles from his home.

The Secular Club, and the slowly growing secular movement in Lebanon, want to move beyond these social boundaries; for people to be Lebanese citizens first, and to be judged on their merits, not on their religion.

- Kristen Gillespie

Worldfocus correspondent Kristen Gillespie reports from a college campus that promotes a radical idea in the Middle East: free speech and democracy.

Goksel makes an appearance in Worldfocus Signature Story Hezbollah heads into mainstream Lebanese life and politics.

One of the expected big winners is Hezbollah, which commands a huge and growing influence in Lebanon.

Some call it a state within a state; a movement that is all too willing to fill any gaps it perceives left open by the government. Hezbollah, with its close ties to Iran, has become very influential — and though the U.S. government considers them terrorists, they are heroes to their many followers.

Worldfocus special correspondent Kristen Gillespie reports on Hezbollah.

Read more and view pictures from Kristen Gillespie’s reporting experience in Beirut: Scenes of Hezbollah in south Beirut

One out of four Lebanese citizens lives in the south Beirut area known as the Dahiya, or “suburbs” in Arabic. The war with Israel in 2006 hit this area particularly hard, with blocks and blocks of neighborhoods flattened. I covered the 2006 war from Beirut, and came back three years later to see how much progress had been made in reconstruction.

The overload of billboards, posters, Hezbollah souvenir shops and the oppressive security presence remind visitors that the Party of God is organized and ready for battle. It’s a war mode, even when there is no actual war.

This partially explains the secrecy and distrust of outsiders. The American government says Hezbollah is a terrorist group, but within Lebanon, it’s more complicated. The Hezbollah political party actively participates in the Lebanese government, while not only refusing to disarm but actively stockpiling weapons outside the scope of the state.

“Now they have a say in national politics,” says Timur Goksel, who liaised with Hezbollah for 20 years as a senior United Nations advisor. “They are not going to give that up, but they also know they got there with Hezbollah’s guns.”

- Kristen Gillespie

Photos by Kristen Gillespie.

Hamra Street. Photo: Kristen Gillespie

Kristen Gillespie is currently reporting from Beirut on an upcoming signature series about life in Lebanon. She recounts life on Hamra Street in Beirut, where cafes and eclectic storefronts mask the past scenes of violent fighting.

Hamra Street in Beirut, Lebanon is a random mix of sleek cafes and sketchy nighttime establishments with names like “Tico tico” and “Goldfinger.” It is also the home of Bread Republic, part of the international Slow Food movement, and Café Younes, one of Beirut’s oldest cafes that still prepares its beans in the original roaster from 1935.

The past two years have brought new life to a once-desolate Hamra Street. Restaurants, cafes and lounges are opening, and in a city where the short term can bring just about anything, it is a much-needed sign of confidence that the future will be better than the past.

For a country known more for being politically and socially divided along religious lines, Hamra Street is something of a refuge from the unrelenting sectarianism that haunts Lebanon’s past, present and future.

In the past four decades, the fighting has also swept over the street. It was occupied by Yasser Arafat’s forces, Israel’s army, pro-Syrian factions and Hezbollah, in addition to countless other militias. But Hamra, ultimately, has never belonged to one group, and it is that freewheeling spirit that makes it what Rami Khouri of the American University of Beirut calls “the last, great cosmopolitan neighborhood in the Arab world.”

The Tico Tico club. Photo: Kristen Gillespie

Nearby, a woman from the Arabian Gulf, dressed in head-to-toe black, looks at the risque lingerie in a shop window. A little further up Hamra Street, readers have their choice of well-stocked bookstores, which confidently present their wares in Arabic, French and English. While a café sits on nearly every block, international coffee chains along Hamra threaten the famous café culture of the neighborhood.

Young shoeshine boys wander the street to attract clients, and then set up their portable shoe-polish stand, squatting on the sidewalk, furiously rubbing in the polish with their hands for a small tip. Maher, the host of the tiny Abu Hassan restaurant specializing in grilled meats just past Hamra Street, expounds on why he became a vegetarian as he serves picture-perfect salads and other Lebanese dishes at this shabby hidden gem. Cab drivers shove each other while yelling about some sort of internal turf war. Traffic jams up along the two-lane street, and frustrated drivers honk into oblivion, all to no effect.

- Kristen Gillespie

Raeda al Nanaa is 25 years old and supervises the jewelery workshop profiled in the story. After her father fell terminally ill, Raeda passed on a college scholarship to go to work and support her family.

Though aimed at an American audience, the program has brought formerly taboo topics — like reproduction or homosexuality — into discussion.

Worldfocus correspondent Kristen Gillespie reports from Jordan on the ”Oprah effect” in the Middle East.

Read her blog post about her reporting experience here: Watching Oprah in a Syrian refugee camp.

For more on the impact of satellite television and talk shows in the Middle East, see PBS Wide Angle’s “Dishing Democracy.”

Kristen Gillespie produced Oprah brings taboo topics to Middle East and Women in Jordan head to work as economy sours. She is a freelance multimedia journalist whose work has been featured on NPR, The Columbia Journalism Review and The Nation Magazine. Kristen lives in Jordan and speaks Arabic.

Riem. Photo: Kristen Gillespie

Oprah. Photo: Alan Light

A while back, I was asking my friend Riem about some sort of political development in the Arab world, and she told me she had given up not only on politics but had stopped what was a steady diet of Al Jazeera.

“Now I watch Oprah,” she announced.

Hearing a 35-year-old Palestinian living in a refugee camp in Syria — a closed, paranoid police state where I lived for nearly two years — enthusing about Oprah was jarring. Such is the reach of satellite television in the Arab world. Saddam Hussein used to ban satellite dishes, and Saudi Arabia still does, but even the most authoritarian of Arab states can’t stop the public from connecting with the outside world.

In a region where people overwhelmingly disapprove of American policy toward the Arab world, Oprah has quietly emerged as a better cultural ambassador than any public diplomacy effort in recent memory. As the months passed, I heard more from fans of Oprah. They are women representing a spectrum of class and religious orientation — conservative women, veiled women, liberal women and even women who don’t speak much English but read the Arabic subtitles.

Mazen Hayek, the marketing director for MBC4, the channel that airs “The Oprah Winfrey Show” in the Middle East, says the enormous positive feedback the station receives speaks for itself: “The best reward [is] hearing people tell you, we learn more from the Oprah show than from our schools, our universities. So the effect of Oprah on people’s lives is very positive.”

Riem inspired this story, but could not be a part of it because as a Palestinian without a passport, she is not allowed to travel to Jordan. She is still watching Oprah, even after struggling to reconcile her desire to live a modern life with her family’s expectation that she live a traditional one. Having been written off by relatives as too old to find a decent husband, Riem took matters into her own hands. She met and will soon be engaged to a younger man who admires and respects her, and looks forward to having it all.

- Kristen Gillespie

For more on talk shows and women in Arab media, see PBS Wide Angle’s “Dishing Democracy.”

Worldfocus correspondent Kristen Gillespie reports from Jordan.

Read her blog post about her experience: Divorce outcasts women from Jordan’s social structure.

Samia. Photo: Kristen Gillespie

Kristen Gillespie produced the signature video: Women in Jordan head to work as economy sours. She is a freelance multimedia journalist whose work has been featured on NPR, The Columbia Journalism Review and The Nation Magazine. Kristen lives in Jordan and speaks Arabic.

As the lunch break at the silver factory came to a close, we sipped the sweet tea served after meals from mismatched cups. Samia began describing the beatings she and her three small children regularly receive from her husband.

The other young women — some perched on the windowsill of the factory’s hallway, some seated cross-legged on the floor — seemed to be already apprised of Samia’s situation. They shook their heads sadly as Samia recounted how her 5-year-old son tried to protect her from the rage of his father.

Samia wants to leave her husband. In rural southern Jordan, it’s not easy. The individual is a piece of a greater collective: The tribe. It is the tribal leaders, all men, who make such decisions before legal proceedings begin.

But while Samia may have a good case -– her husband refuses to work and his abuse is widely known -– it is her mother who won’t allow it. A steely woman with small green tribal tattoos on her face, she had the first of her ten children at the age of twelve. Samia’s mother will make sure Samia never sees her children again if the divorce issue is raised. It would bring shame on the family.

From the time when she was little and her brothers held her down and tattooed two small green circles on her face, Samia has lived a life with little happiness. Spending time with her, as I did for five days in the southern village of Dana, one wonders how much control some people actually have over their lives. She was married without her consent to a man she loathed, she was sent to work to support the family, and at 33, she looks and feels years older.

Creating silver jewelry is surprisingly labor-intensive work, but Samia sings and cracks jokes throughout the day. This is in contrast to the interview we did in her home, where her mother and other family members had stayed during the work day to watch the children.

When I asked Samia a question, her mother would bark out an answer from across the room. Samia sat frozen and uncomfortable, and Cari Machet, the camerawoman for this story, decided we should immediately get her away from her mother.

We tried to interview Samia on the steps outside, but the neighborhood children came and made such a racket, throwing things and climbing on the car, that we had to go inside. The only other place was on the small balcony in the back of her apartment, but by that point, already shy in front of the camera, Samia was so rattled she could barely answer.

During the days in Dana, Samia’s personal story got me to thinking of ways she could possibly leave her husband. During a tea break, I asked the 12 girls at the factory what they thought Samia should do. They all agreed: She should make the best of it and stay with him. Fate determined they should marry, and divorce could threaten their close-knit society, one founded on the importance of family.

These 12 young women, ranging in age from 20 to 33, were all bright, funny and sometimes bawdy. I had assumed they would want to change a social structure so restrictive that women don’t even go out to buy vegetables at the market. But in their answer to Samia, I realized that my idea of freedom is not theirs, and that if further change comes to their society, it can only come from within.

- Kristen Gillespie