Chris Shaw - Photo by The Blackbird

When two plainclothes officers approached Dr. Chris Shaw last June, it had started off like any other day for the Vancouver-based neuroscientist. Shaw had just stepped out of a café with his morning caffeine fix, and was heading to his office at a university research lab around the corner. Within moments, Shaw was flanked by the two intelligence officers from the Vancouver 2010 Integrated Security Unit (ISU), an RCMP-led task force in charge of Vancouver’s $900-million Olympic security operation.

The officers wanted to have a chat with Shaw, but not about his neurological work. There were concerns for 2010 security, the officers told Shaw. Concerns prompted by elements of a book he had written.

Shaw is not only a leading expert on Lou Gehrig’s and Parkinson’s disease, but he has also become one of the city’s most vocal critics of the Olympics. His 2008 book, The Five Ring Circus: Myths and Realities of the Olympic Games, is a critical exploration of the social, economic, and environmental impacts of the Games, and of the history behind Vancouver’s bid for the Olympics.

The ISU’s visit to Shaw was part of a larger surveillance campaign on anti-Olympic activists and protestors in the build up to 2010. Controversy erupted when local media revealed that friends and relatives of Shaw had also been targeted by ISU.

“If this is what almost $1 billion in security costs buys you,” Shaw wrote after his ISU visit, “then maybe we aren’t really getting our money’s worth?”

Shaw fears that civil liberties — the rights an individual has in a society, such as the freedom of expression — are at risk. The Olympic Charter declares that “no kind of demonstration or political, religious or racial propaganda is permitted in any Olympic sites, venues or other areas.” In order to enforce this rule, Vancouver signed a contract with the International Olympic Committee, ensuring that no “propaganda or advertising” is placed within or outside the Olympic venues in such a manner that it could be seen by TV cameras or spectators.

I interviewed Dr. Shaw last November to discuss his concerns about the Olympics’ impact on civil liberties.

Photo by Andrew Whitmarsh

I’m incredibly proud to announce today’s launch of Bankrupt Magazine — Vancouver’s newest online literary magazine.

Bankrupt is the brainspawn of Meredith Hambrock and I. It’s a place for up-and-coming Vancouver writers to share their work with the world.

We’re looking for fiction and literary non-fiction that’s written for readers, not just other writers. Reading should be exciting; it should grab you and say “Hold on tight, this is going to be wild.” It should be accessible, not elitist. Anyone should be able to pick up a piece of good writing and say: “You were right, that was one hell of a ride.”

Live in Metro Vancouver and want to share your story with us? Or just looking for a damn good read? Then check out our site:

http://bankruptmag.com

A huge shout-out goes to Marty Batten for all his help with the site. Bankrupt wouldn’t have been possible without him.

Photos by Jay Sturdevant

Evening descended upon the Ou river in Laos, and still we had not found shelter. Our hand-scrawled map of the river was not drawn to scale. The next village could be mere minutes away, or many miles yet.

Arms sore, I laid down my paddle across the front of our canoe. Looking up at the towering limestone cliffs that enclosed both sides of the river, I asked the question on everyone’s mind:

“What if they don’t let us stay?”

We had encountered only one other village that day. They dismissed us with a simple head shake. Whether out of mistrust or misunderstanding, we didn’t know.

The canoe rounded a bend in the river. The American, James, sat up suddenly at the stern. “There it is!” he shouted, pointing towards the river’s edge.

Along the shore, women in argyle sarongs bathed themselves in the murky river water. A lone man in shorts scrubbed his laundry against a boulder. Children chased each other along the water’s edge. One child spotted our approaching canoe and halted.

“Fallang!” the boy shouted out. Foreigners.

The villagers stopped and faced us. In the middle of our boat, Annike turned around towards Ellen. “Get the paper out.”

Ellen stopped bailing out water, then pulled out our Rosetta stone: a single piece of paper containing every phrase of Lao we knew.

“Sabaidee!” she read aloud. “Náwn yuu nîi dâi baw?” Can we stay here tonight?

The villagers continued staring for a moment. The man turned to the women. The women shrugged. He faced us again, evaluating the four canoeing backpackers in front of him. A radiant smile dawned upon his face. He dived into the river, swam out to the canoe, and towed us back to shore.

I’ll be reporting at The Tyee — an independent online magazine based in Vancouver — over the next few months.

Check out a few of my recent posts there:

• Nuclear arms ban is hot again
• Police conduct report shows flaws with complaint process: Pivot
• Canada slow to track human trafficking: UBC legal prof
• Vancouver may loan Millennium up to $100-million
• Union jobs at risk in BC’s largest security firm

See a list of all my Tyee posts here.