We have reached the end of this trip, and throughout our time in Sri Lanka, there was an experience that I had before arriving that I can’t help but
wonder about.

During our seven-hour layover in the airport in Doha, Qatar, my fellow cohort members and I did random things to entertain ourselves. In addition to
eating and finding something to do on our iPads to kill time, some got creative and conducted a small work out session and a couple others colored in
pictures on ripped out pages from coloring books. I looked farther down the seating area and noticed Michael talking to a foreigner. I decided to jump
in the conversation. The man that Michael was talking to looked our age, was dressed in western clothing – a polo, jeans, and sneakers – unlike many of
the people at the airport dressed in white robes and a red and white head scarf. There was a huge language barrier between us, so we had his laptop
and Michael’s iPad on Google translate to use if we really couldn’t get a message across.

His name was Munir, and he was 20 years old, born in Iraq, is currently studying dentistry in Russia, and will return to Iraq because his family needs
him, even though he does not want to go back to Iraq, since the conditions there are pretty harsh. Michael and I talked to him about America, and we
compared differences between Iraq and America. We tried to get to know him as well. One question we asked in particular, which seemed like a pretty
normal question to ask and comfortable to answer, made Munir uncomfortable. We asked him “What is your religion?” And he told us “I don’t have a
religion.” And laughed. I would have believed it, but I guess thought that we knew that he was lying. He then asked “What religion do you think I am?”
and Michael shrugged and said “I don’t know. Christian?” And Munir smiled and shook his head. He said “I don’t want to say out loud.” We shared
an awkward laugh, and he eventually told us that he was Muslim. But the way he said it was in a manner similar to someone in American coming out
to his friends as being a homosexual. It seemed to me that he was scared to tell us that he was a Muslim. I had a feeling that it was because he knew
we were American and that we would judge him negatively, since American media doesn’t portray Muslims in the most positive manner. We assured
him that it was okay for him to tell us and that we didn’t care what religion he was. We were just curious.

Throughout the rest of our conversation, there were many other seemingly normal questions Michael and I asked him, but again, he had said “I don’t
want to say out loud. There are people around.” And when he did answer some questions, he looked around to make sure there were no security
guards around, or anyone whom he could get in trouble with. When we had to go to our gate, Michael decided that the three of us should take a
picture, so he quickly snapped one on his phone and sent it to Munir on Facebook. Munir asked with a concerned tone, “Is this public or private?” I
imagined at this point that he wanted to be sure that it was private. Michael showed him on his phone that it was sent through a private message.

I have never met someone like this – someone who seems to not be allowed to say certain things out loud. Someone who seemed to be living in fear. He
looked so normal, and Michael and I were able to deal with the language barrier to learn about where he comes from, but what I learned more from
the way he acted than from the relatively few words what he managed to communicate to us. I don’t know much about how the Iraqi people are
treated, but I know that it is in a way that made Munir afraid to disclose some information to us, though I am sure that there was no harm in telling us
anything. We were students with a passion for learning, just curious about the kind of world Munir came from. We were not going to use anything he
told us in a destructive manner, and we definitely wouldn’t have treated or viewed him any differently. I could tell just from our conversation that he was
a good person, and I respected him.

I am writing about this experience almost two weeks later, and I remember so many small details of it because it has stuck with me throughout my
entire trip in Sri Lanka. I don’t know anything about the Iraqi culture, but I saw something so striking through this encounter with Munir that will stick
with me for a while. When you read a culture, you can read it through people just by the way they talk and act. You can see it in how they react to the
question you ask or the way you act in certain situations. I don’t know a lot, but it makes me wonder how many people could be living in fear like
Munir seemed to be.

-Kristine Mapili

When I arrived to Sri Lanka I was weak and feverish and had to stay

in bed for a few days until I was able to pop back up and enjoy the life
and place I had just flown to. I slept and zombied around for days at the
meditation center in Moratuwa while the class went out and attended
lectures, met people and saw sights. The group plan was then to travel to
a village in Polonaruwa, at which point I stayed behind to recover and had
five days of unstructured time until I planned to take a train to Kandy to meet
up with the group.

After one more night at the meditation center and the following night
up the road at the Sarvodaya headquarters, I was picked up by a rather
wealthy family friend named Krishnan who lives about thirty minutes away
in Colombo, and spent three days with him until catching up with the
group in Kandy. I was so excited to finally see things outside of the street
I had been living on. During my time of transition from Moratuwa, to
Colombo, to the train ride to Kandy, I learned much about community and
development through observation and talking with Krishnan.

Instead of seeing Sri Lanka as a point on the line of upward slope
of international development, comparing it to America and other nations
and rating it in a hierarchal way, I have opted to putting emphasis not on
this plot-line thinking, but on thinking about Sri Lanka in a more wholistic
way, made up of inclusive, interacting parts. It was hard for me to gain
any perspective on Sri Lanka during my first few days here other than
through my interactions with the people at the meditation center, like Tula
who was my loving mother for days. I immediately saw how personal and
caring Sri Lankan people are and that belief has proved true for
everywhere I have been here. My first couple of days actually alive in Sri
Lanka were a transition from the Sarvodaya Headquarters in moratuwa to
living the life of the 1% and seeing Colombo through a variety of
perspectives, one of them being Krishnan’s perspective of living on and
by a wealth of money. Monetary wealth can be so blinding I think because
it seems as though it can easily and quickly have the effect of cutting the
wealthy man off from growing and progressing and opening up their mind
to other paradigms the world and the areas near them have to offer. It’s as
if once someone gains enough monetary wealth to live beyond
comfortably on, their paradigm, wherever it is at that point in their life could close off easily, leaving them feeling entitled to judge and complain
and close their mind to certain new experiences. It’s also easy for me to
think that once someone reaches a point of nearly absurdly comfortable
wealth and starts sticking their nose up at things, then their paradigm can
digress even more over time rather than open up. Once the chase for
money begins, if the goal is solely the chase for money, the perspective of
the chaser narrows and narrows on this one goal while blocking out
others.

My perspective of Colombo through Krishnan’s eyes was limited
as it was indeed a perspective of the 1%. He was so nice and helpful and
drove me around to eat and drink and see sights and give me itinerary for
three days, and the whole time I thought he was great and nice but there
was still something that kept me from feeling a genuine compassion
towards him, and lending myself fully to him, because he was such a
double agent. But the thing is, that even if he weren’t the one in the space
of flows, with screens, moving virtual money that becomes very real once
it lands in an account, someone else would be that person. It is very
interesting comparing the feelings that I got from people in Moratuwa,
who most likely do not have excess monetary wealth, but have wealth in
other ways, through compassion and giving, to the feelings that I got from
Krishnan.

During my stay in Moratuwa I went skateboarding through the
streets. Everyone I encountered while skateboarding through moratuwa
knows their neighbors and hangs out in the streets and at the end of their
driveways, stops to talk to others while walking or driving home from
work. I saw community everywhere. There was a wealth of it. A wealth
much different than the kind that some think of back in America. And I
have noticed a trend that one sense of wealth can sacrifice the other kind.
When you know your neighbors personally, you care about them and are
willing to help them out. When I asked Krishnan if he knew his neighbors,
he said no and that people in his high rise apartment building don’t really
interact beyond the passing “hi.” At one point I was in a full elevator going
down to the lobby and nobody said a word the whole time. It felt much
like America, and it was a long elevator ride. This was such a stark
contrast from everything else I have experienced in Sri Lanka, with people
going out of their way to make friendly conversation and help out.

In moratuwa, some kids chased me down on my skateboard and beckoned me down their driveway until the gravel opened up into a front
yard area between multiple homes and I looked to see a huge pick up
cricket game going on before me. I couldn’t speak with the children but
they were so happy to see me there watching them play their sport. They
were showing me their culture. It was the next day that I was standing in
the silent high rise elevator. One thing I think of after this is that wealth
disparity and what one may consider “development” on the line graph
model can come with great sacrifices of community, wholesomeness,
inclusiveness and genuine experience.

-Eli Archer

During our biggest chunk of our unstructured time in Istanbul, we all
went across the Bosporus straight to the golden horn side of the city.
Some of the group went up into the famous Galata tower for a 360 degree
view of the city, while Michael, Julia and I decided to wander the streets in
search of nothing in particular. After stopping in a couple shops, we
stumbled upon a music store. We walked in and saw a rare species of
Turkish guitars, known as balimas, hanging from the ceiling. A tall Turkish
man with long black hair tied in a bun welcomed us and offered us seats
in the back of the room. He then pulled a beautiful balima down from the
ceiling, with a rounded, gourde like body and a thin neck. The instrument
certainly looked traditional. He didn’t speak much English but we learned
that his name is Boulan. He radiated a sense of genuine trust and
friendliness, traits that I’ve come to find as common among musicians.
This was a much different kind of friendliness than what we had been
receiving during most of our time in Turkey. By this I mean that most
places we went, we were the tourists and everyone else was trying any
“friendly” trick they could to sell us something. Boulan never tried to sell
us anything during the entire time we spent in his shop. He sat us down
and treated us like guests. He started playing what he told us was
traditional style Turkish folk music that could have dated and developed
form as far back as the creation of the balima itself. His style of playing
used a long and thin pick and his fingers made many hammer-on motions
that looked just as they sounded. Soon his voice accompanied his hands
and wavered in a chanting style with each hammer-on, varying warmly in
pitch from phrase to phrase. We three sat there in awe as he played and
sang and watched as another man came to join in on a popular middle
eastern style drum. He would play a song all the way through for us and
then pause and explain the meaning and significance of the melody and
the lyric. I found it interesting that much like you hear in western music,
the singing will match the melody, traveling up and down with it, and this
traditional style Turkish music was the clearest, most dramatic example I
have heard of that to date. The acoustic balima is a rather quiet
instrument and his range of loud to soft voice complimented it very well.
That instrument was culturally tailored to the songs he was performing,
through centuries of the development of what is now considered Turkish
folk music. He played for us a traditional wedding song that sounded so
lively and stood up and demonstrated the huge line style dance that
everyone attending the wedding would dance to this song. It is very interesting to consider the origins of this style of music after looking at the
history of Istanbul and the different occupations and convergences on the
city.

Turkish music includes many diverse elements ranging from Central
Asian folk music to influences from Arabic music, Byzantine music, Greek
music, Ottoman music, Persian music, Balkan music, as well as aspects
of more modern European and American popular music. In simply
thinking about Turkey’s location, it is easy to see how so much influence
has reached the country and been traded around, just like the trade of
goods passing through Istanbul. The roots of traditional music in Turkey
spans across centuries to a time when the Seljuk Turks colonized Anatolia
and Persia in the 11th century and contains aspects of both Turkic and
pre-Turkic influences. The origins of Turkey’s modern popular music can
be traced to Turkey’s 1930s drive for Westernization, especially in urban
centers like Istanbul.

Boulan showed us more songs and then passed the balima around
the circle and brought out drums, finger cymbals and wooden spoons so
that we could all try each instrument. We laughed as we all tried to
recreate the intricate Turkish rhythms and melodies, and struggled to do
so. Nonetheless, this meeting with Boulan was eye opening in a way that
allowed us to read Turkish culture through a live musical experience. This,
however, was not the end of our encounter with Boulan as you’ll see by
reading Micheal’s post on Taxim Square, just right up the street from the
music store.

-Eli Archer

My experience in Istanbul, Turkey was harsh, to say the least. Within 24 hours of being there, I was doubled over with some kind of stomach sickness that sent me and a very concerned GTA to the Koc University medical clinic for a three hour log IV drip.

This experience gave me a unique look at development and its effects. Turkey is technically a developing country. What does a Turkish clinic look like though? An American one. I would have thought I was in America if it weren’t for the EMT crew’s broken English and Turkish combined.

Our time at the clinic was sharply contrasted by our taxi ride to the hotel. Our completely Turkish, non-English speaking driver took us on cobblestone roads past stores lined with traditional Turkish lamps through a labyrinth of old stone buildings, framing the immense mosques towering in the background.

While my stomach healed, I couldn’t eat for the next few days. When I could eat, I weirdly craved chicken nuggets and fries above anything else. Luckily, while we were shopping and walking beside the Bosphorous Strait, lined with massive ships and Turkish sailors, we found a McDonalds and my craving was curbed–yet another example of a development pocket in what otherwise was a richly Turkish city.

So if you’ve never been to Istanbul and wonder what you’re missing, go check out a hospital. Or a McDonalds. Hang up a Turkish lamp or two. Throw in the smell of saltwater from the Bosphorous and some cute stray cats outside, and your experience of semi-developed Istanbul is complete.

-Kelly Cline

By Stefanie Froelich

On June 16 and 17, our team traveled from Moratuwa to a small village, Wijayabura, nestled in the jungle of the Northeast region of Sri Lanka. At our arrival, we saw a crowd of villagers that at the time seemed so foreign but by the end of our stay were considered family. From a distance, the people of the village greeted us with waves and smiles and as we walked closer children gracefully placed flower necklaces around us. Five young men dressed in “Ves,” or traditional costumes, led us down the dirt road while Kandian dancing.

This encounter was a fitting introduction to the first day of the Shamradana project. According to Winsor, one of our assistant coordinators, the practice of Shamradana is, “Sharing your work, labor, knowledge, experience and even your wealth. By participating in Shamradana, you build up your personality and strengthen your abilities so you can promote your loving kindness and commitment to people. Without commitment and loving kindness you cannot do anything. By being a part of the project, you’re building all these things up in yourself and in others.” For the 2014 21st Century Studies cohort and for the people of this village, our Shamradana project would finally begin with the renovation of the local preschool.

Over the past two days we dug up the compacted ground, carried sacks of rocks and sand, made cement mixtures, painted the interior and exterior walls and even planted mango trees. It took the entire village to renovate this building, however despite the sweat, blisters and aches, the process of the project was more than just a project– it was an ongoing celebration. It was a celebration that involved lunch breaks, duck-duck goose games and interactions with people of mixed cultural backgrounds.

This Shamradana project covers one of the keylines from the C21 curriculum –Tradition and Modernity. This project provided an opportunity for two groups of people from different backgrounds to cultivate one vision. One group exemplified more traditional practices in which natural elements and ways of thinking were implemented. The other group was used to a more modern and fast style of labor. For the group with a more modern mentality, it broke the stereotype that tradition does not always evolve from a set of laws but rather it takes advantage of given resources and uses historical accomplishments to form a clearer understanding of culture. Tradition is the capability of a culture to adapt to challenges using their known intelligence and previous knowledge. This introduces the idea that modernity and tradition are not separate ideals but that they in fact coexist. This concept was displayed as a bunch of Americans walked off the bus into a sea of villagers that radiated their traditional culture. The laughter, smiles and sentimental emotions we all shared during the Shamradana project proved that this concept is ironic yet beautifully suitable. This blending of modern and traditional values set the tone for the three days in Wijayabura but it also sparked the beginning of a revolution for those who were willing to share the inclusive parts of their minds and their hearts.

The Sarvodaya Shramadana movement was founded in 1958 by Dr A.T. Ariyaratne. The organization gradually became the largest grassroots non-governmental organization (NGO) in Sri Lanka. Sarvodaya aims to eliminate poverty as much as possible by having poor and underprivileged communities initiate their own development projects. Currently Sarvodaya is active in more than 16000 villages throughout the island of Sri Lanka.

Sarvodaya has a strategy of development that doesn’t only include economic matters, but also takes into account the social, cultural, moral, spiritual dimensions that goes into developing a country. It has a strategy of working with the people instead of working for them. They urge communities to become self-reliant by encouraging them to come together to share their own resources and address their own needs. This allows independence from outside resources.

We were able to meet with Dr Vinya Ariyaratne, the son of Sarvodaya’s founder and the General Secretary of the organization. He explained to us how the structure of sarvodaya works and what the organization encompasses in general. First he started with the name. Sarvodaya is a Sanskrit word for ‘the awakening of all’ which reflects the organization’s Buddhist principles. Although their philosophy is largely derived from Buddhist thinking they are a secular organization catering to the diverse ethnic and religions populations that exist in Sri Lanka. Sarvodaya no longer relies on foreign funding, all of their work is done using local resources and labor.

Sarvodaya’s village development follows a holistic process with 5 main steps: psychological infrastructure development, social infrastructure development and training, satisfaction of basic human needs and institutional development, income and employment generating and self financing and finally sharing the surplus with neighboring villages. This holistic process leads to grama swarajya or “self governing villages”

Sarvodaya outreaches to over 16000 villages, 5400 of which are registered village societies. They have 26 district centers, 8 development education institutes and 4 multipurpose community centers and 11 legally Independent organizations under the Sarvodaya framework.

What makes Sarvodaya different from other development NGO’s is that they are not a top heavy structured organization, differing sections within the organization have legal independence from each other. An example of one of these sections being the Sarvodaya economic enterprise development services (SEEDS). SEEDS works for the sustainable economic empowerment of rural communities. This program is structured in a way that makes rural communities responsible for their own development and demonstrates that the poor, marginalized and differently abled people are capable to do things on their own. Sarvodaya SEEDS workers explain to villagers how to run a savings program that is kept and maintained within the villages, they set up localized special credit lines and deposit mobilization at village development finance centers.

Sarvodaya is a mass movement with the participation of genuine people at their base. It’s an organization that encourages independence and sustainability. Sarvodaya’s holistic approach to development has experienced 55 years of success within Sri Lanka. The founder of sarvodaya said to us when we met with him that in order for a society to thrive you must lay cultural, social, and moral foundations and out of these foundations development, and not just economic development but development in all aspects of life, then becomes possible.

-Daniella Zelaya

The chora museum was something I had only read and studied in my art history and architecture textbooks. However, I had the privilege of seeing it up close and in person this spent week, while in Istanbul. The mosaics were made during the Byzantine empire, hence the excessive use of gold in the images. Images of the Pantokrator and Theotokos were right before my own eyes, which was astonishing, because I had never thought I would see those pieces of art in person. Every single little tile was essential to the image, which made me think of how intricate and delicate the work must have been. It also made me think of how much strife and damage and time the museum must have underwent throughout the years. It also made me think of what the museum would have been like when it was not a museum, but an actual church. What would it have been like to worship here, with tho ages in their full splendor and glory? What was also very interesting was that some of the icons had their eyes or faces scratched out, but the remainder of theirs bodies were in tact. Could that haves possibly been because of the wave of iconoclasm that passed during the time? Was it vandalism, done by children And kids my own age? Seeing those mosaics really made me so grateful for this trip, because I would have never had the chance to see my education transform into an experience right before my own eyes. The walls of the museum itself were also very intriguing to look at. They were dilapidated stone, and contrasted with the shimmering mosaics. How many prayers were whispered in these walls, and what ceremonies took place during its prime? By going to this museum, we answer those questions with our own experiences and personal narratives.

-Lananh Nguyen

Part of a letter Written on top of a farm house that overlooks the mountains of Ain Louh.

Dear ______,

It’s as if yesterday, now, and tomorrow has morfed into a single entity. Time has lost its meaning for me here in Morocco. Actually, I don’t feel the need to keep track of time anymore; doing so just gets in the way. Interestingly, Lotfi at one point said to us “you guys have watches, we have time.” As the “underground president of Morocco, as Shelby calls him, Lotfinever fails to make witty remarks. This particular one, however, stuck with me the most.

The sun hasn’t peeked from behind the mountains of Ain Louh yet.

Maybe it’s not time that gets in the way, but technology–little miniscule devices that narrow down our scope of perception. You don’t need time to tell you when to do things. If you just do, then you “have time” in the palm of your hands to do…more. You, not your watch is in control. At least this is how I understood it, you may think differently.aS

You see, recentely, I held a picture of an abused child in my hands. The little boy, who was either five or six, had gray eyes and conspicuous bruises above his right eyebrow and his neck area. Yet, he wore a sincere smile. It was a smile so contiguous I suddenly caught myself smiling. I never thought it would be possible to smile at a moment like that–how can somebody have such magnitude of hate towards an innocent child?
Then I wondered. If the same picture was shared on Facebook and not at our meeting with the president of “Don’t Touch My Children” organization in Morocco, would I have scrolled past it, or stopped? I would most likely have scrolled past it. Maybe technology does get in the way.

When peoples’ life experiences and struggles are more than you ever went through, you stop and listen. I may have learned about “Don’t Touch My Children” collectively as an organization that advocates and protects the rights of abused children in Morocco. However, it would not equate the value of having had to listen the president’s personal story regarding her own child’s abuse. You can ignore a post, but not people and the raw emotions they induce upon you.

I guess human experience is what teaches us. We learn from other’s past success and struggles. Thus, by taking what was and refining it to become what is, we come to know ‘ “stuff” ‘ and build our own experiences.

I never felt so alive and so close to nature as I did in Morocco.

-Meron Kebede

It didn’t take long to figure out what the streets of Kandy was like. The people seem to be less haggling like the ones in Turkey, modern, with a touch of pure tradition. It was surreal to see Buddhist monks walking around with the roar of the traffic passing by. Something I want to focus on is the Buddhist museum at the Temple of the Tooth. Having a personalized tour of the museum was eye opening, and seeing all the different forms of Buddha across every nation was inspiring.

I was saddened to see that the Taliban destroyed the largest Buddha in the world in recent history. I was also not aware beforehand that Buddhism actually got as far as Afghanistan. This changes my views of the region since it is actually a bit more diverse than I thought it was.

Another interesting part of the exhibit was China. It is an incredible change from the Indian version where the Buddha has a sweet Chinese mustache and goatee. Where I see this coming from is that Buddhism’s form changes according to its population, so the population can accept and easily conform to its teachings, but still relating to its culture. I feel this applies for any religion, there is a cultural change in the religion as you go from different regions. I believe this is the whole point of the program as well, we are studying how religions change across regions. They are still all connected, but the practices change. That common core between all religions to love one another.

Going to the Pizza Hut in Kandy was also a life changing experience. Seeing a menu from America compared to Sri Lanka is pretty eye opening as you can tell the corporation pays attention to the local customs. Chicken sausages are the thing here, not pork or beef. In fact I can’t even remember when I ate pork on this trip… Even the milkshake has a unique taste here. I thought the meal was more fresh than compared to the meals served in the states. It is a unique thing, that even in a developing country, their quality of products could still beat developed ones in different ways.

I want to end on one other note, the art exhibition, even though it was not officially unstructured time, was still a bit unstructured since it really was just walking around and looking at masterpieces through your own interpretation and with what the artist had in mind. It completely tied together everything I learned in the Buddhist museum, all the symbolism and meaning was intertwined behind every painting, every stroke. It really reinforced what life was about, the weightlessness and with it comes the ability to think with an open mind, so vast that it connects with the universe. This means that you are not only open to those around you, but also the universe within your mind, being able to see yourself from the inside. I also noticed there were some works of art where life is about the other person and with that person you both can achieve a greater understanding. I thought this was a beautifully way to think of this culture.

I am just completely thrilled to see such lovely connections in the culture of Kandy and Sri Lanka.

– Michael Sherburne

We had the incredible opportunity to speak with Kutaiba- Kasem Alarab, the president of the National Council for Human Rights in Syria, an independent non governmental body founded in 2005. This organization strives to promote and ensure human rights in Syria. They work in the field of local, economic, and political human rights. Their organization believes in the principles of the international human rights charter.  They denounce nationally and internationally human rights violations and work to provide lawyers for political prisoners and demand justice and fair trials.

Syria has gone through exceptional conditions. The country has suffered through the burgeoning of terrorism, most of which was pushed by terrorist organizations from neighboring counties. The division of the Syrian people created different factions each with differing conflicting political goals. The Syrian human rights council professes independence from any of these factions and are concerned with innocent human lives being lost due to violence and the increasing human rights violations. They denounce the killings and arrest of thousands and the refugee status of 2.5 million men women and children between Jordan Turkey and Lebanon.
As a rule members of the Syrian Human Rights Council refuse materialistic things to protect independence of the members and to avoid influences from outside interested parties. However they are willing to cooperate with other independent NGO’s. They profess a need for people outside of Syria to educate themselves and understand the situation and spread the facts.
Kutaiba has termed the terrorist activity in Syria an ‘industry’ one which is sustainable and proactive, manipulated by those always searching for power. This industry has migrated from Iraq and Iran to other areas when the international community discovered profit in Iran/Iraq/etc. This industry provides ‘death manufacturing’ in the pursuit of power. Kutaiba is deeply hurt and disappointed by the violence and political turmoil in Syria because he claims that this is not their culture. This violence has been the result of different intrusions.
Mr Kutaiba has an ambitious plan of solution to the Syrian conflict claiming it would only take 2 years to implement following a ceasefire. This solution has been proposed to the Syrian government and has been considered. The problem is that it relies on everyone – including the international community. They need all government and faction leaders to agree to a win-win-win solution for everyone with an interest in Syria. The study that underwent the forming of the proposed solution involved 19 political parties and other international NGO’s. The main components of the proposed solution includes most importantly a  cease fire on both sides. It then suggests that parliamentary candidates should be anyone with the support of 100,000 people. Mr Kutaiba claims that some individuals already have enough support, they just need a cease fire to occur. He then says Refugees (over 2.5 million) should also be allowed to vote even though they’re outside Syria. They also want to keep the current  president as ousting him will most likely lead to even worse power struggles, but in order to keep him they propose to reform his powers as president during a time of transition.
The Second part of proposal is in response to a proposal put out by current government which said they would give the people some rights they have been fighting for but they never followed through. The National Council created a Human Rights and political solution to the conflict, with the first argument being that conflicts in Syria are directly related to terrorists. This affects national stability of neighboring areas and international security. The first step to this argument is to set up a gradual transition for the building of a civil democratic society based on balance and working to fight terrorism . They cannot separate national security from fighting terrorism. The second step is to educate the people to prevent violence. He wants everyone to go back to the tradition of non-violence.
Mr Kutaiba wants foreign contribution to this issue as it is not only a regional issue but also an international issue. He wants neighboring countries to stop the illegal passing of arms to terrorists and diplomatic solutions rather than facing more violence. Previous international intervention have been viewed as failures because it supported opposition with arms and more often than not caused the opposition to conduct substantially worse crimes than the dictator
The proposal has been sent to national and international NGOs (including the UN). Others who are part of the organization work inside Syria to explain to the people their proposal. It has been published in newspapers which are government owned so the fact that they were even able to have their work published is a huge step.
Political inertia will leave Syria open for terrorists to do what they want.  Proposals about the current political situation is just a small step to start thinking about change.

-Daniella Zelaya