In 2011, foreign correspondent Lara Logan survived a violent mob attack in Tahrir Square.  As a female aspiring to report on humanitarian issues abroad, myself, Logan’s story didn’t scare me into switching career paths.  Instead, it gave me some much-needed perspective on the training I needed to do my job both effectively and safely.

My grandma suggested that I take “one of those karate or tae kwon do classes” just to be safe.  This didn’t sound like such a bad idea, but when I read Logan’s memoir in a book published by the International News Safety Institute, something other than self defense tactics caught my attention.  In the heat of the moment, Logan channeled all of her energy into staying on her feet to avoid being crushed to death.

Questioning whether I would have sense enough to do the same under traumatic pressure, I decided to take a holistic approach to worst-case scenarios.  I wanted to train my mind, as well as my body.  A tip from the Committee to Protect Journalists led me to Frank Smyth with Global Journalist Security and his two-day training in D.C. titled Safely Navigating Threatening Environments.

I packed my carry on in Madison, Wisconsin, where temperamental weather seems to be the greatest travel threat, and flew out to train with eight others.  I went into the experience stressing over which pair of shoes to pack and walked away with a new level of awareness that may very well save my life someday.

Setting expectations, our trainers (Frank Smyth, Sara Salam, Paul Burton, Cary Ingram, and Matt Hansen) explained how in order to simulate high-pressure situations, they would role-play hostile actors, putting individuals on the spot and acting out aggression in order to spike our adrenaline levels.  This was a controlled opportunity to understand our instinctive responses – fight, flight, or freeze.

Sitting in an arc of folding chairs inside Salam’s martial arts and self-defense studio, she asked us to start by closing our eyes and reflecting on a series of questions.  She asked us to recall things like how many exits were in the room, which items might be used as barriers, how many people were to our right and left, how many steps there were to the nearest exit, and which way the door opens.  Then we shared revelations about our external awareness on the way to the studio that morning.

I recounted how I had been completely GPS dependent. Even after I had identified the correct block and put away my cell phone, I lost site of the address the moment a group of tourists at a souvenir kiosk caught my attention and had to backtrack to the studio.

Admittedly, I’ve never had a keen sense of direction; but while I work on my map reading skills, I learned there are additional ways to increase my external awareness for risk reduction.  Salam advised us to take note of people you see more than twice, scan down the road, avoid crowds, identify objects you might use in self defense, and to respond to your gut feeling.

Yes, respond to your gut feeling.

To be honest, this isn’t what I had expected to hear from a Level 5 instructor of Krav Maga, the self defense system employed by the Israeli Defense Forces.  Turns out I wasn’t giving my heart or my clammy skin much credit.  Salam explained how the heart picks up on potential dangers faster than our brains and how meditation can help align the right side of the brain – the intuitive part – to grab our attention through physical sensations like perspiration and goose bumps.

Once you get the feeling that something is off, you should look for signs of confirmation.  The key here is to match cues of external and internal awareness in order to avoid a crisis situation altogether.

Of course, no amount of caution can prevent a crisis from happening.  That’s where Burton’s emergency first aid expertise came into play.  He drilled us on procedures for checking airways and breathing and stopping extreme blood loss.  Keep airways open and keep blood in – the importance of these two things cannot be stressed enough.

We played medic with a partner, stabilizing (never removing) and wrapping gauze around impaled objects and positioning casualties on their side in a way that would keep their airway open and clear of vomit.  Over the course of two days, Burton conditioned us to follow a simple, yet critical set of first aid procedure, which always began with a survey of the scene for immediate dangers to yourself, then the casualty.

To put the value of these rudimentary procedures into prospective, photojournalist Tim Hetherington bled to death in Libya from a cut in his femoral artery.  Had those around him known how to pinch the femoral artery like a water hose, letting a trickle of blood cycle through his leg every 10 minutes to prevent the build up of toxins, Hetherington could have survived.  His unnecessary death inspired his colleague, Sebastian Junger, to start a training course for combat reporters called Reporters Instructed in Saving Colleagues (RISC).

If you find yourself being carted into a hospital for a blood transfusion, don’t be caught unaware of your own blood type.  In fact, consider wearing it in a tag around your neck, in case you fall unconscious.  This is a preparatory measure that any reporter can take to increase their odds for survival in a hostile environment.

The safety checklist Burton and Smyth rattled off for us covered smart travel logistics, digital security, clothing tips, taxi safety, hotel security, and vetting local fixers and drivers.  They started off with a disclaimer on how they didn’t intend to insult our intelligence with tips like informing your bank of your travel plans.  But I appreciated the fact that they didn’t assume anything about our background knowledge.  I lived in Kyrgyzstan for two years as a Peace Corps Volutneer, but I’ve never practiced journalism in a potentially hostile environment.  Notebook in hand, I was quick to scribble down every pointer they covered.  Here are a few:

Attention to detail (not to be confused with paranoia) provides one line of defense.  Knowing how to escape from a wrist hold in a public area requires a set of trained reflexes. We explored two ways to leverage momentum against brute strength.  These two moves instilled a sense of empowerment far greater than the apparent skill involved. They were non-abrasive escape tactics, not combat moves, but I loved the feeling of control over my personal space that these moves gave me.

In situations that are more constrained, such as inside a vehicle at an armed checkpoint, you may not be in a position to command your personal space.  This is where Salam shared some techniques for grounding our breathing to curb stress levels that can interfere with our ability to communicate under pressure.  I’ll have no problem practicing these covert stress-reduction techniques under the pressure of my final six weeks of grad school.

Our final afternoon of training took place in a sports warehouse located 45 minutes outside of downtown D.C.  Smyth loaded us into an airport van and hauled us away to our final simulation series.  Not wanting to spoil the surprise for any future trainees, all I’ll say is that our trainers had been alternately referring to it as the “maze of fun/ village of hell.”

I survived, along with the eight other participants.  The scenarios may have been pretend, but the pressure to succeed put our response skills to the test, revealing our strengths as well as our weaknesses to collectively navigate hostile environments.  I hope they’d all feel comfortable taking me along on a project site visit, at some point in the future.

For now, my attention’s focused on navigating rural Mali, Niger, and Burkina Faso – the three destinations for the reporting trip I’ll be taking with Nicholas Kristof this July to cover issues of global health and poverty.  As far as my grandma’s concerned, knowing that I’ve done something to take safety measures into my own hands is assuring, no matter the byline.

In 2 major efforts, journalist security tailored to fit

Tags:

• Journalist Security,
• Sexual Violence,
• State Department,
• Surveillance,
• UNESCO