Sandro has left the building....

Roberto Sanchez, better known as "Sandro" died on Jan. 4th from complications from heart and lung transplant surgery. He was one of Latin America's most beloved singers, known for his hip-shaking moves, black hair and love ballads, all of which earned him the title the "Elvis of Argentina."

Sandro's passing was big news in the region, and I'm happy to say that CNN deemed it worthy of international coverage. I reported live from outside the Argentine National Congress, where Sandro's body lay in repose the day after his death and where tens of thousands of people lined up to pay their final respects to him. It was a hot, chaotic day, made more challenging by technical difficulties with our equipment. During the first live shot, I had no audio, which means the anchor could hear me, but I couldn't hear the anchor. So after some scrambling and unsuccessful attempts at fixing the problem, we did it the old-fashioned way: a CNN en Espanol producer listened to the on-air audio over a cell phone and when the anchor "tossed" the story to me, he pointed his finger and I just started talking. Much to my surprise, it turned out well, with only a 1-second delay. You can watch that report here.

So as not to push my luck, I decided to retreat to the CNN bureau and do the second live shot from there, which went off without a hitch. Later, I wrote a tracked a package report about Sandro, using interviews we had conducted that day (including with some Sandro inpersonators) and archive footage. That report is here.

I'm definitely not a big fan of Sandro's music, but his impact on popular music in the Spanish-speaking world is undeniable, and by all accounts, he was a good guy too.

RIP, Sandro.

Exclusive: Interview with Ricardo Darin

I wrote an article for this week's Newsweek International about the fantastic Argentine film "El Secreto de sus Ojos" (The Secret in Their Eyes), one of the most successful Spanish-language films in recent memory. For the article, I interviewed director Juan Jose Campanella (above left) as well as actor Ricardo Darin (above right). Both men were endlessly gracious and generous with their time. I admire both of them tremendously. You can read the article here.

Scoring the interview with Darin took a long time. He is one of the most in-demand actors in Latin America. But it was well worth the wait. I was only able to use one quote from Darin in the Newsweek article, but I wanted to publish the whole interview here, because he is such a smart, honest and funny guy. So below is our chat almost in its entirety, translated from Spanish to English. Enjoy.

Why do you work with Juan Jose Campanella so often?

I work with him for two reasons: one, he always invited me to work with him on his projects and two, I always enjoy working with him. Every time he invites me I know I am guaranteed to have a good time, and express myself as an artist. Plus, it’s great to spend time with him. We are good friends, but we don’t get to see each other that often, normally just when we work.

Campanella told me he thinks you are the best actor to fill his roles, primarily because they are often reflections of himself. Do you agree?

He is very generous when he speaks about me, and in general. He seems to be more concentrated on my career than I am! I owe a lot of my career to the fact that he always thinks about me. And I try to return the favor when I work with him. He is a pleasure to work with always, because he enjoys the interaction with actors, which is not common. As an actor, this is the ideal situation to try and create a new character. When I work with Campanella it’s an easy process because, as he told you, he often thinks about me when he writes. If it is a writer always writing different characters, it would be different, but I know with Campanella his point of view will almost always be from someone who is a common Argentine citizen. In each story and each film, he tries to present a different point of view, but it will always be coming from his experiences and knowledge, which are similar to mine. But with other directors, like Fabian Bielinsky -- who was a great director and a dear friend with whom I worked with several times and who unfortunately died a few years ago -- I now realize since he is gone that the things he wanted me to do as an actor are completely different from the road that I take with Juan Campanella. Bielinsky always looked for my dark side. Campanella looks for my bright side. So working with these two great directors always forced me to look into different aspects of myself.

Why do you think “The Secret in Their Eyes” is such a big hit?

I think it is for a variety of reasons. It is an interesting story, well-written, with very good characters. The second is that it is well-directed and well-produced. Third, and this has to do with the audience, but I think there are social ideas and issues that the film deals with, both directly and indirectly, that are very important to all Argentines, and are a part of our social climate, and our recent past. So these factors have made it successful, and made all Argentines, myself included, proud that a movie of this quality could be made here in Argentina by Argentines.

Forgive my need to compare you to an American, but in many ways you remind me of Tom Hanks. What do you think of that comparison?

First, thank you for the comparison, because Tom Hanks is one of the actors that I most admire. In addition, I think your observation is very intelligent and I agree. But I don’t want to sound like a jerk when I say this, but I am just looking for a technical way to explain why I agree with you. For me, Hanks is an actor that I admire a lot for his sense of humor and intelligence. I have always liked his subtlety. He can do anything as an actor. He can do a drama or comedy just as much as an action film. There are good actors, and bad actors. And then there are comedians! They can do anything. Tom Hanks is one of those. You made my day with that compliment. Thank you, Brian.

What did you think of “Criminal,” the U.S. remake of “Nueve Reinas?”

I don’t have a good opinion of it. And I’ll tell you the reasons why. We were very anxious and excited to see the film. We really wanted to see how they interpreted our film. The first problem is where they choose to set the film. The story takes place in a chaotic urban city, and when they chose Los Angeles, I think they were wrong. It’s a urban story about people who get around on foot, who walk the streets, not who drive around in cars and, as we all know, Los Angeles is a car city. It would have been better in New York or Chicago. The two main characters are not the brightest guys, they are just street thieves. So this was the first error. The second is the casting. I admire John C. Reilly a lot and also Diego Luna. But in this particular case, my character needed to have more of a shady face, and the other character needed to have an angel face, and I don’t think with these actors they chose well. So there were complications. And we really had high hopes for this big American production.

Another thing that called my attention was that after Bielinsky sold the right to “Nueve Reinas” to make “Criminal” -- even though he didn’t gain hardly any money from it because he had already sold the rights to the producer -- he didn’t have any rights as the writer. But one detail that called my attention was that he wasn’t allowed to go visit the set in Los Angeles. He wanted to go and help collaborate with the crew. He spoke and wrote English very well, so he wanted to offer his help with the project. But the response he got from the producers was no. Not only did they not authorize him to visit the set, but they also told him not to even go near it! He couldn’t believe it! So I think after everything I just told you, you can understand why my opinion of the film isn’t very good.

Photos courtesy of 100 Bares.

The "Backstory" on Juan Pablo Escobar

I was interviewed by CNN anchor Michael Holmes this week for the show "Backstory" about my experience spending time with Juan Pablo Escobar, now known as Sebastian Marroquin, the son of the infamous Colombian drug lord Pablo Escobar. We spoke about the day I spent with Marroquin, watching the documentary about his life, and the article I wrote about it for Newsweek. You can read my Nov. 15th blog post about that day below.

It was an unusual position for me to be in; I am usually the one asking questions, not answering them. But I think the "Backstory" segment turned out very well. It was the lead story on Friday's show. You can watch it here.

Going Green: Sustainable Bamboo

My report for CNN's "Going Green" week about sustainable bamboo practices aired this week. I got to spend a lovely day in Tigre, Argentina filming the story. My on-air report as well as my "Reporter's Notebook" and a photo slideshow are available here.

And you can watch the "Backstory" (and watch me eat bamboo) here.

Photos by Brian Byrnes.

The Gay Marriage That Wasn't (yet)

It was the historic wedding that wasn’t. Jose Maria Di Bello (l) and Alex Freyre (r) were set to become Latin America’s first same-sex married couple on December 1st in Buenos Aires, but an 11th-hour ruling by a federal judge in Argentina halted the ceremony. That wasn’t going to stop them from a good fight, however. The couple -- decked out in black suits, matching silver ties and wearing bright red sashes over their shoulders -- showed up at the Civil Registry in Palermo on Tuesday intent on getting hitched. Hundreds of others were there as well: friends, family and scores of journalists, including myself. Argentina’s gay community was out in force, carrying banners, waving rainbow flags and chanting “Equality, Equality!”

A small group of police in riot gear were also on hand, but wisely stayed a half-block away. A friend told me the police had originally set-up right in front of the courthouse entrance, but a city official yelled at them to get the hell away. The way she saw it, there was no reason for them to be there; it would only cause problems. And there weren’t any problems, save for two young men that yelled “putos” (“homos”) at the crowd, and those two were quickly arrested.

Despite noisy protests and many, many, many speeches by supporters inside the sweltering lobby of the courthouse, Alex and Jose Maria were not permitted to marry. The city of Buenos Aires decided not to challenge the challenge to the earlier ruling, which brought jeers and boos for Buenos Aires Mayor Mauricio Macri, despite the fact that he was the man who had essentially opened the door for the marriage (see below) in the first place. It’s scary how quickly a politician can go from hero to enemy, and on that day Macri was called every name in the book. I think the criticism was undeserved, though, because at that point it really was out of his hands, legally speaking.

On the morning of the planned ceremony, I did several live shots for CNN International talking about the issue, including this one with CNN anchor Natalie Allen.

In the week leading up to Tuesday’s scheduled ceremony, it seemed that every media in the world wanted to speak with Freyre, 39 and Di Bello, 41. They had to send phone calls straight to voicemail, ignore emails and leave texts unanswered. Such is the territory that comes with making history.

The proposed marriage came about because Freyre and Di Bello challenged Argentina’s constitutional ban on same-sex matrimony. When a Buenos Aires city court judge agreed with their claim last month, it allowed them to request a marriage license. Soon after, Macri decided not to appeal the decision, and the ceremony was quickly scheduled for December 1st -- World AIDS Day, a symbolic day for the two HIV-positive men to become husband and husband.

“This is very important for people in general, not only gay, lesbian and transgender people….it’s a human rights question,” Di Bello told me.

I had arranged for CNN to have the first interview with the couple on the day they spoke to media outlets from around the globe. When I was done, the Associated Press interviewed them, followed by media from Brazil, Germany, Spain and the U.K. Originally, I wanted to interview Alex and Jose Maria at their home, and we had arranged to do that, but after receiving literally dozens of international interview requests (in addition to non-stop appearances on local TV and radio programs) they thought it best to do them all in one place, at one time. I could hardly blame them. They chose the Axel Hotel Buenos Aires, the city’s first gay hotel, which also has locations in Barcelona and Berlin. The Axel Hotel markets itself as “hetero-friendly” but it caters almost exclusively to gay men. When we arrived at the hotel, their press handler tried to persuade us to do the interview in front of the Axel Hotel logo; I declined, I wasn’t looking to promote a hotel; I just wanted to interview them. You can see some “Backstory” material on that here.

Needless to say, the proposed gay marriage caused quite a stir, not only in Argentina, but throughout Latin America, where the Catholic Church is still highly influential. Buenos Aires Archbishop Jorge Bergoglio criticized the development, and had especially harsh words for Macri, who he said “failed gravely at governing.” Macri had announced his decision not to appeal the verdict via a 1:45 video posted on YouTube, a move that angered many, even his staunchest supporters.

“We have to live together, accept this reality, and recognize that the world is moving in this direction,” Macri says in the video.

I spoke to one congressman from Macri’s conservative PRO party, who was furious that the mayor didn’t alert his party members about the decision.

“He took everyone by surprise with that one, and many our constituents are not happy,” he told me.

And indeed, despite Buenos Aires’ reputation as a progressive Latin American capitol – it was the first city in the region to legalize same-sex civil unions in 2002 – there are still many people here who are angered with this development. All across the city this past week, there have been bright yellow posters plastered on walls with an image of two men kissing and the words, “Did you vote for Macri for this?”

When the first gay civil-union took place in Buenos Aires in July 2003, I was there, covering it for various media outlets. In the days prior, I had filed several reports, including this one for NPR and this one for the Christian Science Monitor. On the day of the civil unions ceremony, scores of journalists were trying to cram into the small room in the downtown government building where it was taking place. When it was complete, the two men, Marcelo Suntheim and Cesar Cigliuitti, exited the building in a raucous hail of rice, confetti and music. I had my microphone and MiniDisc recorder and -- like every journalist there -- was trying to get some words from the men. In the chaos, a television cameraman from a local news station kept chopping me in the back and accusing me of getting in his shot. Truth is, the pandemonium was the problem, not me, but he chose to take his frustration out on an easy target: a young foreign journalist. After he smashed his lens into the back of my skull, I shoved him, and started cursing at him in Spanish with words that I didn’t even knew that I knew. I think this surprised him more than intimidated him, but he looked ready for a fight, and frankly, so was I. That was until two of his co-workers got in my face too and I realized that this was a losing battle. So I quickly peeled away from the scrum, and got some words from the couple from another angle. That’s the only physical altercation I’ve ever had as a journalist. At a huge street party surrounded by men in dresses. Go figure.

Thankfully, there was no violence this week. But the issue is still a raw one. There was a palpable sense of anger from the gay activists I met on Tuesday. I think the fact that they came so close to having the first gay marriage only to have it snatched away at the last minute really pissed them off. And I can understand why. Despite the legal limbo, I think the writing is on the wall. The Argentine Supreme Court is now examining the case, and I suspect they will rule in favor of it soon.

Photos by Brian Byrnes

The "Backstory" on Argentina's Forensic Anthropology Team

There have been many, many stories told about Argentina’s horrific 1976-1983 “Dirty War,” when the military ruled the country with an iron fist, squashing any dissident voices. At least 10,000, and perhaps as many as 30,000 people, “disappeared” during this dark era. I have done several reports over the years on a variety of topics related to the “Dirty War,” from amnesty laws being overturned in 2003, to the public opening of a former detention center in 2004, to the (still) missing witness from a trial in 2006. As more and more former military leaders appear in court on human rights abuses, and more and more victims are identified, the issue continues to be a very important one for many Argentines. When I learned about the work of the Argentine Forensic Anthropology Team (EAAF, in Spanish) and their tremendous success in identifying and reuniting family members with the remains of their loved ones through the use of science, I immediately wanted to do a story about them.

From the initial inquiry I made with the team until I got my profile of them on-air on CNN this week, 11 months passed. I normally don’t have the time (or patience) to wait that long to make a story come together, but something told me that this would be worth waiting for. And it was. The nearly year-long process was a result of several factors, like scheduling conflicts and weather, but chief among them was getting permission to film at an exhumation site. Understandably, some people are hesitant to allow cameras into an area where their loved ones presumably spent their final, violent, moments. After much back-and-forth with the EAAF team, I was invited in October to visit a cemetery with them in La Plata, Argentina. First, though, I would need to send an official written request to a Federal Judge’s office to ask permission. When I was told this, I immediately thought it was a lost cause; the Argentine judicial system works at a snail’s pace (at best) and I figured it would be months, if not years, before I had a ruling. To their credit (and my enormous surprise) they had an answer for me within a week, faxing me an 8-page opinion signed by all seven judges from the La Plata federal jurisdiction.

Unfortunately, the answer was no.

For the aforementioned reasons, they denied my request to enter the cemetery and film. I also learned that French television network, France 2, was seeking access as well; our requests were denied simultaneously. I think the EAAF team could sense my frustration, so they quickly suggested another site in the neighborhood of Merlo where they felt it would be easier for us to enter. And they were right. I didn’t need to file a written request; I was told that the judge would just meet me there. And indeed he did. On the day we went to film, the judge and his two assistants showed up, along with the provincial prosecutor, his handlers, a local TV news crew, police and several others. The EAAF team told me that they were all there looking for a little fame on international TV, because normally they don’t draw such a large crowd. And while I would have liked to have included all of them in the story, the simple fact is that there is not enough time on-air to interview every single person. Moreover, this was a story about the efforts of the EAAF team, not about the specific grave that was being exhumed that day. I politely explained this to them, and they seemed to understand. I did get all their email addresses, and sent the story link to them; the only one who responded so far was a young provincial police officer who was monitoring the exhumation that day.

The Santa Monica cemetery in Merlo is huge. I don’t know how many people are buried there, but just from looking at it, I would say tens, if not, hundreds of thousands. This was definitely a provincial cemetery in a humble part of town; no grand, ornate mausoleums like you see in Recoleta cemetery where Eva Peron and other Argentine dignitaries are buried.

After we arrived to the cemetery, we watched EAAF team members -- Mariana Segura, Analia Simonetto and Alejandra Ibanez (pictured above)-- get their tools arranged and get ready for the dig. Truth be told, most of the grunt work of shoveling the grass and dirt was done by the cemetery workers. But once they had access, the EAAF team got right into the graves and got dirty, meticulously separating dirt from bones. It was fascinating, and a bit disturbing, to watch. The first grave that they exhumed was of a person who had died in 2001, so they had to locate that body, remove it, and then search for the body of the person they suspected was killed by the military in the late 1970s that was buried underneath. That whole idea blew my mind: Someone who died eight years ago was buried on top of another person – a possible victim -- and in order to confirm that, they needed to remove the other body. That, of course, requires permission and notification of next-of-kin, and sure enough, two relatives of the person buried on top were present, monitoring the process. Those bones were removed and will be put in a more communal grave (as opposed to an individual plot). I was told that even if the EAAF team didn’t request the exhumation of that grave, that removing and relocating skeletons after a period of at least five years is a common practice at cemeteries in Argentina, because of limited space. If a family has the money to re-bury the body, they can do so in another private plot, but if not, it goes to a communal spot. All the bones of each individual are still separated and stored apart from the others, but they likely do not have a private plot. This surprised me as well. Is that common in other parts of the world too?

As the exhumations continued under a hot sun, I interviewed Sara Cobacho, (above) the 78-year-old secretary of the Human Rights Office in Buenos Aires province, who is also a member of the Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo. Sara lost six family members to the dictatorship, including two of her sons, 23-year-old Enrique in 1977, and 28-year Oscar in 1978, and she herself was detained in a illegal detention center for six months in 1976. I could see the years of pain and anguish on her face. I could also sense her strength and determination. She now works closely with the EAAF team during their digs, although the remains of her two missing sons have yet to be recovered. I don’t know if she showed up that day because she wanted to be on CNN, but I didn’t really care. She was an important person to speak with, and had some very intelligent things to say during our interview. I feel privileged when I meet a person like Sara.

Next, I interviewed Mariana and Analia of the EAAF. We did the interviews first in English, then in Spanish. Both women continually apologized for their English skills, but there was no need for them to do so; they both spoke very well. When preparing a report for CNN, I always try to find people who speak English, as I feel it makes the story just a little easier to understand, since you are hearing the words directly from their mouth. Of course, in this part of the world, not everyone speaks English, so I often end up translating and then doing English-language voiceovers. Regardless, even if someone does speak English, I always ask them questions in Spanish too, so that my colleagues at CNN en Espanol can use the material to put together a report in Spanish.

After that, I shot my “stand-up” -- the part of the story where you see the reporter talking to the camera. I wanted to have the movement of the EAAF workers in the background, and show as much of the cemetery as possible. Cameraman Eduardo Aragona and I had to seek out a few locations where it would be possible for me to walk-and-talk (without tripping over a gravestone, which I did, twice) while also having the proper sunlight and background. We did about seven takes, and got two keepers, one of which we used in the final report. Throughout the day, I also shot more informal “stand-ups” for the CNN International show, “Backstory” which takes viewers behind the scenes of a story, and whose format I am attempting to emulate in print here. Here's that report.

After we finished shooting, we started saying goodbye to everyone, which took awhile, because there were about 25 people there at that point. We drove an hour back to Buenos Aires city and headed to the Almagro neighborhood to have a late lunch before our meeting with Ana Feldman later that afternoon. Ana’s 18-year-old sister, Laura, was “disappeared” by the military in 1978. The interview with Ana was equally emotional as the earlier ones, as she told me about her sister and her long efforts to locate and receive her remains. She was able to accomplish that thanks to the work of the EAAF. Ana is the first person we hear from in my report. The photograph I took of her below, holding a photo of her late sister, was displayed prominently last Tuesday on the homepage of CNN.com, which helped make it one of the site's most popular stories that day.

We then left Ana’s apartment and returned to the bureau. I was tired and sunburned, but satisfied knowing that we had the material to tell an important story, and tell it well.

Photos by Brian Byrnes.

Anatomy of an Article: Riding with Pablo Escobar's Son

I was in a car on the Panamericana Highway in Buenos Aires last week with two men I had just met, both of whom I was interviewing for a story I was working on for Newsweek. One of them, Nicolas, asked me where I grew up, and when I told him Baltimore, he veered the conversation (as many often do) to “The Wire.” We both agreed that it was one of the best television series ever made. The other guy, Sebastian, had never seen the show, so I starting breathlessly telling him how the writing, acting and photography were unmatched, and how it portrayed the modern urban American experience so vividly, and how it gave viewers laser-sharp insight into the inner workings of inner-city drug cartels.....

About 45 seconds into my fawning discourse, I recognized the sheer absurdity of the situation: the man I was glorifying the American drug culture to was the son of the world’s most famous drug dealer, Pablo Escobar.

Yes, I was talking drugs with Juan Pablo Escobar, who now goes by the name Sebastian Marroquin. Thankfully, I stopped myself just short of offering to lend him my DVD copies of Season 1-5. Now, that would have been weird. I don’t think Marroquin would find “The Wire” particularly entertaining. At least I hope not, especially since the reason I was in the car with him and director Nicolas Entel was the new documentary film they just released called “Sins of My Father,” essentially a 90-minute apology from Marroquin to the Colombian people for the many gross, violent and bloody acts committed by his father when he was the richest, most powerful and ruthless drug kingpin on the planet.

I was the only journalist in the world invited to watch the film with Marroquin and Entel. It would be the first time either of them had seen the final cut on the big screen. There were literally only seven of us in the theater, all of whom were associated with the production, except for me. Sitting next to Marroquin and stealing glances of him as he watched his life story play out onscreen was emotional, indeed.

At first, I wasn’t anxious to write this story. Several other international media outlets had already interviewed Marroquin by telephone and published stories. But through some hustle and some luck, I managed to get something no one else did: I had met Marroquin personally, shook his hand, watched him as he watched himself. That was my story, and what would set my article apart from the others. When I told my editor in New York this, she was excited, and we agreed that I would take the somewhat unusual (although increasingly common) step of writing myself into the story, using a few, sparing first-person accounts. She also decided to turn this from a one-page article to a two-page spread in the magazine, using several photographs, and including a sidebar Q+A.

I can state unequivocally that Escobar’s offspring is a nice guy. Quiet. Shy. A hulking presence, similar to his father’s, I assume. He also looks just like him. All he is missing is a moustache, as I noted in my Newsweek article here.

Admittedly, describing how ice-cool Avon Barksdale is to Pablo Escobar’s son is sort of stupid. Or surreal. Either way, it reminded me why I do what I do, and why I love it so much.

You can read excerpts from my conversation with Marroquin in Newsweek here. Not all the questions made it into the magazine, so I offer more from our conversation below:

Brian Byrnes: Do you still speak with your relatives in Colombia?

Sebastian Marroquin: Yes, I still keep in touch with my aunts and uncles in Colombia from my mother’s side. Not on my father’s side. They are very happy that we could demonstrate a face of the family that was always hidden. They said to me ‘Nephew, after so many years of a bad image, it is great that you can show our good side now.’ They understand that the message that we are trying to send to the world now is a positive one. They have a lot of hope, and so do I.

You now make a living as an architect in Argentina, correct?

I make money as an architect and I have money that family members left me.

Your father’s money?

No, this comes from my mother’s side. All my father’s money has been confiscated. I have absolutely zero knowledge or any access to any money, properties or cars that belonged to my father. It’s all in the hands of the government. The only thing that the family of Pablo Escobar still has is his surname.

Your younger sister did not participate in the film. Why not?

She was just a child when all this war was going on with my father. At a very young age, she was a prisoner to the situation. Despite the fact that she couldn’t even speak up to declare her innocence, she was imprisoned. And she really values her privacy now. She supported me all the way during this process of reconciliation. I can’t say that this helps lessen her pain, but she prefers to maintain a low profile and continue with her studies.

In the film, before you enter the room to meet the Galan brothers, you paused in front of the door. What was going through your mind at that moment?

I was remembering what I had written in the letter to them, and what it would be like to speak with someone whose pain was so acute. I was thinking ‘When I open this door, how do I begin the conversation? Would it be good to say “good afternoon”? Or would it be better just to say “hello?” What would be the right way to address people in this situation who were the victims?’ It was very difficult to choose the right words. It was almost impossible. Each one of the sons reacted in their own way. And it was really a noble act on their part to meet with me.


Photo courtesy of Sebastian Marroquin/Red Creek Productions.