As the national capital, Washington is the place aspiring and veteran navel-gazers converge, endlessly analyzing wrinkles in American politics that average Americans don’t even see.

It’s an art and an industry. Ideally, they would value the perspectives of farmers and firefighters, teachers and truck drivers – welcoming their ideas and refining them through all this thinking and talking. 

But sometimes those ideas instead get mired in bureaucracy, hierarchy, or party politics. And now, amid deepening partisanship, many feel the wheels of Congress have largely ground to a halt. That has led to a crisis of public confidence in the institution. Only 2% of Americans today have a “great deal” of trust in Congress, the lowest figure in 50 years of Gallup polling.

Civilians don’t have the luxury of letting things grind to a halt in their trades, businesses, or local PTAs. They have to keep solving problems, or face the consequences. So as the new Congress begins today, we offer the perspectives of three individuals who have navigated crises in which stalemate or failure was not an option. 

Capt. C.B. “Sully” Sullenberger, the US Airways pilot who made a forced landing on the Hudson River in January 2009, addresses the importance of continuing to take decisive action even when you don’t have good options. 

Antoinette Tuff, a bookkeeper in 2013 at a Georgia elementary school who single-handedly thwarted a school shooting, points out that it’s not only Congress that sets the tone for the country. It starts with each one of us, at home, says Ms. Tuff, now working as a leadership coach. 

And Pete Kristiansen, a veteran plumber in Washington who has worked for famous writers, CEOs, and nearly every foreign embassy in the nation’s capital, shares how more urgency and pragmatism could get Congress’ plumbing working again. 

These individuals have faced crisis head-on, and demonstrated the responsibility, integrity, and compassion needed to lead in the moment. Many consider them heroes, but we did not choose them for their titles, nor for their political affiliation or perspective, but rather for their ability to remain poised in high-pressure situations and keep the trust of the people they were hired to serve. Here, they distill the lessons they have learned and apply them to an increasingly polarized Congress. They make the case to top lawmakers about why this type of leadership is needed today, based on their diverse viewpoints in society

“Sully”: In togetherness, there is responsibility 

Just after takeoff, the geese hit. The plane shuddered. Flames burst out of the engines. The pilot, quickly losing altitude, turned down the Hudson River. Then he addressed the passengers. 

“This is the captain,” he said. “Brace for impact.” 

COURTESY OF CAPT. C.B. “SULLY” SULLENBERGER

Capt. C.B. “Sully” Sullenberger, whose decisive decision-making saved a commercial jet full of passengers, advises Americans that it’s not a time for “sleepwalking” through their civic duties.

Capt. C.B. “Sully” Sullenberger’s calm, authoritative decision-making during the 208 seconds between the bird strike and landing in the Hudson that day in January 2009 instantly made him a global hero. 

While flying a jet is admittedly different from shepherding America’s 535 elected representatives, members of a gridlocked Congress may draw lessons from his decisive leadership.

An ex-fighter pilot with decades of experience, Captain Sullenberger knew that the sudden loss of engine thrust required him to prioritize the most important problems and ignore everything else. Even as the plane’s warning systems were blaring, “Terrain, terrain, pull up!” he was judging the optimal angle and timing for touchdown. He took an “extravagant” three or four seconds to choose his few words to prepare the crew and project courage to the passengers who were about to land in a river on a frigid January day.

“You keep on solving problems as long as you can, with as much altitude or airspeed as you have,” says Captain Sullenberger, who together with co-pilot Jeff Skiles and their crew saved all 155 people on board.

As the new Congress begins in January, leaders take their seats in America’s cockpit at a time when many see flashing red lights across the dashboard. Constituents want a course correction. And he has a few ideas about how to prioritize the challenges at hand, address them with persistence and discipline, and maintain courage and confidence even as the warning systems sound. 

That requires a leadership that serves a cause greater than oneself, and to remember – like that planeload of people he piloted to safety – we’re all in this together. “When we share common values, and common humanity, there’s little we cannot accomplish,” he says. 

A long-term optimist but short-term realist, Captain Sullenberger sees grave threats to American democracy, including politicians questioning the outcomes of elections for their own gain.

“We’ve all gotten a real wake-up call,” he says. “We’ve had the biggest civics lesson of our lives.” 

That requires Democrats and Republicans to put aside policy differences and save our democracy, says the pilot, who after years as a registered Republican left the party and came out strongly against the GOP and the president during the Trump administration. He is now a Democrat.

Actively defending American democracy isn’t a partisan issue, but a moral one, he says. “It is a black-and-white question of right and wrong, and a question on which no one can be neutral without being morally bankrupt or cowardly,” says Captain Sullenberger, who would like to see Congress formalize long-standing norms that have been disregarded of late. One example he’s personally familiar with is the Senate holding up confirmation of dozens of presidential nominees, including his own June 2021 nomination and December 2021 confirmation as ambassador to the Council of the International Civil Aviation Organization (ICAO).

So how do you build a bipartisan coalition to save democracy in such divided, hyperpartisan times?

Personal diplomacy. Taking the time to get to know someone and building trust. When you find ways to work together on projects with a specific purpose, and succeed, he says, that opens the way for more collaboration. For example, as the U.S. ambassador to ICAO, he helped to build consensus among a number of nations to resolve an airspace boundary issue in the Middle East.

In addition to trust, other key components he cites are agreeing on facts and making evidence-based decisions. In the ICAO discussions over the airspace boundary issue, for example, providing a detailed description of the operation of air traffic control helped bring others on board. The council was also able to build consensus on the threat of climate change through scientific data and understanding, he adds. 

Sometimes horse-trading is necessary, he admits. It may not be perfect, but you can build on it later. On that clear January day when he had three minutes to save a plane full of people, none of his options were good. “I chose the least bad option,” he says. “And I was glad to have it.”

What helps in politics, he adds, is identifying shared values, finding the lowest common denominator to build on, and avoiding tribalism. 

Among the core values he sees as important are saving the climate, striving for justice, and providing education. He doesn’t plan to run for office himself, but he’d like to see good candidates who can articulate the importance of these values in concrete, specific terms. Take climate change, which he describes as a “literally existential crisis” that threatens the future of the human species. Though the parties differ on their approach to climate issues, he sees the scales tipping toward “acknowledging reality,” in part because the changing climate is something people can see personally, nationally, and globally.  

Citizens and voters need to be informed and engaged, too, he adds. It’s not a time for “sleepwalking” through one’s civic duties. 

“We have to tell people what the stakes are, and why it matters, and how life will be better if we do these things together,” he says. “And there’s really no alternative to it. Everything else is failure.” 

A plumber’s integrity: Urgency and pragmatism 

Decades of work in the shadow of the U.S. Capitol give “Pete the Plumber” – Pete Kristiansen – a strong perspective on how Congress might be more effective.   

If Pete Kristiansen weren’t colorblind, he might be flying 30,000 feet above American politics, fulfilling his youthful dream of becoming a pilot. Instead, he’s on his hands and knees in the nation’s capital, sniffing drains and solving the plumbing woes of important people – from foreign diplomats and congressional staffers to famous authors and CEOs. He also sees a side of America many elites don’t, walking into the living rooms and bathrooms of people living in humble circumstances, sometimes too poor to pay their heating bills.

BRYAN DOZIER/SPECIAL TO THE CHRISTIAN SCIENCE MONITOR

Decades of work in the shadow of the U.S. Capitol give “Pete the Plumber” – Pete Kristiansen – a strong perspective on how Congress might be more effective. He says: “I understand laws enacted by Congress are big, important things. But we do big, important things, too. ... So if we can get things done, they should, too.”

Mr. Kristiansen thinks people like him could bring some wisdom to the gilded halls of the U.S. Capitol, where a little blue-collar street sense could go a long way. Moreover, after decades of responding daily to emergencies, he says plumbers possess a sense of urgency and pragmatism often lacking in Congress. 

“We’re different; we have to get things done,” he says in his office, where he starts at 5 a.m. six days a week. “We’re there to solve a problem.”

On a recent morning, he pulls out of the office parking lot at 5:48, equipped with tools, S. Pellegrino, and a can of Pringles. 

Ten minutes later, he swings his lanky legs out of his truck and steps into the moist soil of a partially excavated driveway. Shining a flashlight around, he sees the drainage isn’t working right and the sewer pipe is corroded. He advises the bleary-eyed owner pacing in front of a parked Bobcat that she needs a new trench drain – and may need to dig up everything and replace the pipe, too.

“Unfortunately, this can be expensive,” Mr. Kristiansen warns her.

The tradesman now called “Pete the Plumber” by homeowners across the Washington area, got his start as a University of Maryland student looking to earn pocket money. Construction was a good way to do it, at least for a tough kid who spent winters repairing fences on his parents’ Thoroughbred farm in Maryland. The day Ronald Reagan’s inauguration was moved inside the Capitol rotunda because of subzero wind chills, Mr. Kristiansen was earning $11 an hour on an outdoor job. He’d been in that rotunda once, as an elementary school student. “A big round room,” he recalls. 

He worked hard in school and got B’s and C’s. But he’s mastered the plumbing, gas fitting, and HVAC codes – a stack of reading thicker than most congressional bills. And he’s the guy at a party who finds a corner to read the almanac. Ask him the capital of Madagascar, and he not only immediately responds – correctly – Antananarivo, but also holds forth on the country’s woes with deforestation and gemstone mining.

And he’s worked in nearly every embassy in Washington – seen the inner sanctums, the fancy dinners, even a sitar concert. It’s like traveling the world, without boarding a plane. 

He was one of the first people to enter the long-abandoned Lithuanian Embassy after the country won its independence from Moscow. When the Lithuanians had his company throw a bathtub out of an upper-floor window, the Cubans next door thought a bomb had gone off. But he’s friendly with the Cubans, too; they always send him a Christmas card.

When the United States withdrew from Afghanistan in 2021, he called up an Afghan contact to check in; two days later, they were sitting on cushions in the embassy together, eating a traditional meal as the government fell to the Taliban. 

And yet, he thinks it’s a mistake for the U.S. to get so involved abroad. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with Congress other than we’re spending a lot more on other countries than on us,” says Mr. Kristiansen, who fundamentally supports government and always tells his accountant to give Uncle Sam all the taxes he needs. “Money could certainly be better spent – not building a school on the side of a mountain in a war-torn country that no one’s going to use,” he says, referring to Afghanistan, where the Taliban has since banned girls from attending high school and university.  

Take people who got hooked on opioids. “We lost a generation in West Virginia,” he says. “Everyone seems to think, ‘Oh, that’s OK, it’s West Virginia.’”

Or take the people who lost their jobs during the pandemic, he says. Why was Congress sending stimulus checks to people making $120,000 a year when others lost their homes because they couldn’t afford rent?

“I’m a firm believer in exceptions to help people,” says Mr. Kristiansen. 

As he returns to his office, a man on a bike comes whizzing past. Mr. Kristiansen yells, “Hey, hey, hey!” The man, who lives under a nearby bridge, circles back to chat. As they catch up, Mr. Kristiansen grabs a Clif Bar from the box in his back seat and hands it out the window.

“Aw, thanks,” the guy says. 

“There’s a guy who lives under a bridge,” muses Mr. Kristiansen after they part. That’s not one of the problems he can solve today. And he knows it could take Congress more than a day, too. But he’d like to see lawmakers step it up. 

“I understand laws enacted by Congress are big, important things. But we do big, important things, too, with gas and sewers,” says Mr. Kristiansen, who earlier in the day pointed out a six-figure job his company had done recently. “So if we can get things done, they should, too.” 

The compassion in seeing everyone in a new light 

Thanks to Antoinette Tuff, Decatur, Georgia is not a name forever joined with Uvalde, Parkland, and Newtown. With her coaxing, a would-be school shooter put down his weapon, and all 800-plus students were saved. So while gun safety is the No. 1 issue she’d like to see the new Congress take up, she also sees a role for everyday citizens in establishing a better tone in the country. 

ELIJAH NOUVELAGE/SPECIAL TO THE CHRISTIAN SCIENCE MONITOR

Antoinette Tuff was at the front desk of an elementary school when an armed man arrived. Her compassion for him inspired her decision to talk him down. She sums up her advice to Congress this way: “We need to say, ‘What’s going to be the best for the people? ... Who is this bill going to affect?’ ”

“I think it starts at home,” says Ms. Tuff. For her, that means starting her day with God, and following the example Jesus set when he quieted a storm with “Peace, be still.” “Then,” she says, “you can leave your home in a peace when the wind is raging.” 

On Aug. 20, 2013, she woke up at 4 a.m. As usual, she read the 23rd Psalm: “The Lord is my shepherd. ... Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.”  

Ms. Tuff, distraught after her husband of 33 years had left her for another woman, had repeatedly tried to take her own life. She was working three jobs, yet just had to borrow money to get her car out of the shop. She didn’t know yet that later that day, the phone would ring with more bad news. It was the bank: Unless she could come up with $14,000, it would repossess her house, her car, and her furniture.

“I’m just sitting there like, ‘OK, God, what do I do now?’” recalls Ms. Tuff, who at the time was a bookkeeper at the Ronald E. McNair Discovery Learning Academy in this Atlanta suburb.

Then the school secretary called. Ms. Tuff was needed to fill in. She dried her tears and went to the front office.

A few minutes later, Michael Hill walked in with an AK-47 and a backpack full of ammunition rounds. “We’re all going to die today,” he announced. 

She was terrified, but her motherly instinct kicked in – not just for the students, but for the 20-year-old gunman. “At the end of the day ... he’s somebody’s child,” she says. 

As he approached the door to the adjacent teachers’ lounge and was about to start shooting, she recalls telling him, “Mmm-mm, we’re not doing that today.” 

And thus began an extraordinary encounter between a Black woman who had hit rock bottom and a young white man struggling with mental illness, an encounter that ended with him surrendering to police. 

“We’re not going to hate you, baby,” she said nine minutes into her 911 call, as the young man indicated he was willing to stand down. “It’s going to be all right, sweetie – I just want you to know that I love you though, OK?

“And I’m proud of you – that’s a good thing that you just givin’ up. And don’t worry about it – we all go through something in life,” she added. 

Now, nearly a decade later working as a leadership coach, she describes a country in turmoil, with disgruntled employees, irate customers, road rage, and active shooters on the rise. It’s not just schools, either; she points to the recent Walmart shooting in Virginia in which an employee killed six others and then himself. She sees a nation focused on self, which has lost the compassion it once had. 

J. SCOTT APPLEWHITE/AP/FILE

After talking down a school shooter, saving the lives of hundreds of children, Antoinette Tuff (in red jacket) was invited by first lady Michelle Obama to the 2014 State of the Union address.

And that turmoil, focus on self, and lack of compassion are reflected in Congress, too: “I think we just forgot that we was the United States of America,” she says.  

Ms. Tuff calls in every day at 5 a.m. to a prayer line on which she joins with others to pray for, among other things, the individuals in Congress, the protection of them and their families, and guidance in their work. It shouldn’t be about self, or political party, she says. “I think we need to say, ‘What’s going to be the best for the people?’”

And a key way she’d like to see them do that is by asking, “Who is this bill going to affect?” and then bringing those people to the table and giving them a voice. For example, she says, school meetings tend to feature upper management – the superintendent, the board of education. But they don’t typically involve the teachers or secretaries, cafeteria staff or custodians. That more inclusive approach requires compassion and a confidence that welcomes others’ ideas, rather than feeling threatened by them.  

Sometimes people don’t see their own – or others’ – value until they’re tested, adds the woman who went from being a struggling bookkeeper to being a guest of Michelle Obama at the State of the Union address.“You’re going to see yourself in a whole new light,” says Ms. Tuff.  

So maybe it’s not such a bad thing that the United States of America is being tested. Maybe Congress and the citizens it serves will come to see themselves in a new light, too.  

Editor’s note: This story has been updated to clarify Capt. Sullenberger's current political affiliation.

Patrick Semansky/AP

Newly elected members of Congress pose for a class photo on the East Front of the Capitol in Washington, Nov. 15, 2022.

After months, or in some cases years, of planning, fundraising, and campaigning, 74 brand-new members of Congress are beginning their first terms. And if the chaos surrounding the House speaker vote today was any indication, they may be in for a bumpy ride.

The freshman class of the 118th Congress, which was waiting to be sworn in amid the speakership drama, has already made history on a number of fronts. They hail from more than 30 states and represent urban, suburban, and rural areas. They are the youngest class in recent history, with an average age below 50 – including the first representative from Generation Z, Florida Democrat Maxwell Frost. The number of women in the House remains roughly the same, but several newcomers mark firsts: Democrat Becca Balint is the first female representative from Vermont; Democrat Summer Lee is the first Black congresswoman to represent Pennsylvania; and Colorado, Illinois, and Oregon have their first-ever Latina representatives. 

Following a midterm election where Democrats performed better than expected, the 118th Congress is almost evenly split between Republicans and Democrats – with Republicans holding a narrow 222-212 majority in the House, while Democrats have a slim majority in the Senate. New members may have to work extra hard to have any impact in what could easily be a divisive and gridlocked term.

That’s especially true when compared with the previous Congress, which was “one of the most active in the past century,” says Mark Harkins, who worked on Capitol Hill for almost two decades before joining Georgetown’s Government Affairs Institute. The 117th Congress also had exceedingly narrow margins, but Democrats controlled both chambers, as well as the White House, making it easier to move legislation.

The incoming 118th Congress will likely “pale in comparison,” Mr. Harkins predicts, given the split not only between chambers, but also within the parties. The GOP’s internal rifts were on display throughout the day, as members of the far-right House Freedom Caucus refused to vote for their own party’s speaker nominee, Rep. Kevin McCarthy of California. After three ballots, Mr. McCarthy had yet to secure a majority Tuesday evening – the first time in 100 years the vote for speaker had gone beyond the first ballot. With every potential vote critical, new members immediately found themselves being courted.

“Before, it was ‘Are you a Democrat or Republican?’” says Mr. Harkins. “Now, you have these [internal] factions. And because of the incredibly tight margins in the Republican Party, these new members are going to be asked to pick a faction fairly quickly, before they really know what’s going on.” 

At the same time, new members are already facing immediate administrative tasks such as hiring staff, ordering office supplies, and figuring out things like how to answer constituent mail and “where the bathroom is,” says Mr. Harkins, who previously served as a first-time congressman’s chief of staff.

The Monitor spoke with four incoming members about how they are approaching their new roles and what they hope to accomplish over the next two years. 

Wesley Hunt, R-Texas 

Wesley Hunt, who represents Texas’ new 38th District, comes to Washington brimming with confidence. Indeed, when asked if he’s feeling apprehensive at all, the former Army captain doesn’t hesitate.

Nick Wagner/AP

Republican Wesley Hunt speaks during a rally featuring former President Donald Trump, Oct. 22, 2022, in Robstown, Texas. Mr. Hunt hopes to work with fellow veterans in Congress – including two other members of his West Point class.

“No,” he says. Then, by way of explanation: “I was an Apache pilot.”

After falling short in a 2020 congressional bid, the married father of three – including a newborn baby boy – handily won a 10-way Republican primary last year. He’s especially proud that, as the great-great-grandson of an enslaved person, he was elected with over 60% of the vote in a majority white, solidly conservative district. 

One of five Black Republicans who will serve in the 118th Congress – the most since 1877 – Mr. Hunt, who calls South Carolina Sen. Tim Scott a friend and mentor, sees his own political success as evidence that the GOP’s push to diversify the party is working. 

Policy-wise, given his district’s location in Houston, an epicenter for U.S. oil and gas production, the new congressman plans to focus on energy-related legislation. He also hopes to work on border security and inflation. 

Mr. Hunt is particularly looking forward to working with two fellow incoming House members who were in his graduating class at the U.S. Military Academy at West Point: Democrat Pat Ryan of New York and Michigan’s John James, another Black Republican. Mr. Hunt, who served in Iraq, believes veterans can be a unifying force for the GOP on Capitol Hill, bringing “the party as a whole together.”   

“We fought the same wars. We lost the same classmates,” he says. 

Still, when pressed to explain how he would repair rifts between moderate Republicans and his far-right peers, Mr. Hunt clarifies that in some cases, the differences may not be reconcilable. Republicans like outgoing Rep. Liz Cheney have “done more than enough to show that they don’t want to be on our team.” 

Jill Tokuda, D-Hawaii

For Jill Tokuda of Hawaii’s 2nd District, having her own desk on the House floor represents the fulfillment of a promise she made in high school. While visiting the U.S. Capitol on a school trip – her first time to the U.S. mainland – she reportedly told herself that someday, she would be back.

Patrick Semansky/AP

Democrat Jill Tokuda of Hawaii arrives for a photo of newly elected members of Congress in Washington, Nov. 15, 2022. The former state legislator also attended an orientation for new members, describing it as a "crash course."

Despite having served in the Hawaii legislature for more than a decade, Ms. Tokuda says last month’s orientation for new members in Washington felt like a “crash course.” So far, she has enjoyed getting to know other members, both incumbents and fellow freshmen. And she found the Democratic leadership elections inspiring, given the new team’s demographic diversity. 

“I served 12 years in my Hawaii state Senate and led some of the biggest committees, but you didn’t always see your own face staring back,” says Ms. Tokuda, who is from the island of Oahu. 

Married with two sons, Ms. Tokuda earned a reputation for getting things done in the Hawaii Senate with a below-the-radar focus on legislating. Endorsed by the Congressional Progressive Caucus, Ms. Tokuda campaigned on restarting the government’s COVID-19 rent relief program and monthly child tax credits, and expanding SNAP benefits. She’s looking forward to working with Massachusetts Rep. Katherine Clark, who will soon be the second most powerful Democrat in the U.S. House, noting that they share a particular interest in early childhood education. 

“Our families need help everywhere in Hawaii – from housing they can afford, to making sure their children have access at the earliest age to education,” says Ms. Tokuda. “Our kids are literally becoming [Hawaii’s] greatest export. And as a mother of two boys, I’ve got to stop that.” 

Monica De La Cruz, R-Texas

Of the three Republican Latinas who ran for Congress in South Texas last year, only Monica De La Cruz of the 15th District was successful. The insurance agent became the first Republican ever to win this seat, beating her Democratic opponent by almost 9 points. 

Eric Gay/AP/File

Republican Monica De La Cruz, the first Republican to represent Texas' 15th Congressional District, poses in her office in Alamo, Texas, July 8, 2021.

Hispanic voters’ shift toward the Republican Party has been one of the most notable political trends of the past few years. And as the Monitor reported ahead of the midterm elections, in many areas – particularly South Texas – it’s been women like Ms. De La Cruz who are leading the charge.

The single mother of two, who grew up in a Democratic household, says she was driven to switch parties after seeing the positive effects of President Donald Trump’s policies. A political newcomer, she ran for the 15th District in 2020, surprising party officials on both the left and the right when she lost by fewer than 7,000 votes. Two years later, Ms. De La Cruz says it’s became socially acceptable to call yourself a Republican in Hidalgo County.

“The trend is leading towards the Republican Party,” Ms. De La Cruz tells the Monitor. “Everybody is really energized about 2024.” 

But before she thinks about her next election, Ms. De La Cruz plans to spend the next two years focusing on one of her constituents’ top priorities: border security. She campaigned on finishing construction of the border wall and requiring those seeking asylum to wait in Mexico.

“We need to show [Congress] the importance of keeping Title 42,” she says of the Trump administration policy, which has allowed Border Patrol to immediately expel migrants on public health grounds. The Biden administration has been trying to lift the policy, which was put in place at the beginning of the pandemic, but the Supreme Court temporarily blocked that effort.  

At the same time, Ms. De La Cruz, whose grandparents came to the United States from Mexico, advocates streamlining the process for legal immigration, including hiring more judges to deal with the backlog of asylum cases. 

“People are coming here because we are the greatest country in the world, and we want them to come in the right way so they have the opportunity to fulfill their dreams,” says Ms. De La Cruz. “We must shorten the length of time it takes to become a U.S. citizen.”

Wiley Nickel, D-N.C.

When asked what he wants to do in Washington, North Carolina’s Wiley Nickel says he’s most interested in “finding things that we pass through the House and the Senate and get to Governor Cooper” – before catching himself, with a chuckle – “I mean President Biden’s desk,” the former state senator says.

Katrina Hajagos/Reuters

Democrat Wiley Nickel, a former member of the North Carolina Senate, says he hopes to work across the aisle.

Mr. Nickel, also an attorney who previously worked as a staffer for former President Barack Obama, narrowly beat a Trump-endorsed Republican in the newly drawn Republican-leaning 13th District outside Raleigh. Married with two children, he’s already connected with members of the Blue Dog Coalition, a group of moderate Democrats in Congress, and is “really excited” about working with them. He also hopes to work with Republicans, such as North Carolina Sen. Thom Tillis and other new legislators from swing districts.

“We were on the House floor, I was in the second row, and I literally reached ‘across the aisle’ to meet Congressman-elect Molinaro,” says Mr. Nickel, referring to Republican Marc Molinaro from New York. “That was one of my favorite moments.”

Cutting corners, shrinking portions, inventing substitutes – Egyptian families are pushing the limits of their creativity to meet the nutritional needs of their families amid unprecedented price rises this winter.

Facing soaring food costs and one of the world’s highest inflation rates due to Ukraine war-induced shortages and a devalued currency, Egyptians are trying to make up what they lack in purchasing power with ingenuity and sacrifice as prices go up – even by the hour.

Solutions range from homegrown chickens and shrinking loaves of bread to leaner, vegetarian feasts – even when hosting company.

“Many people in Cairo live day by day,” says Ahmed, a carpenter who, like others interviewed, gave only his first name. “With inflation and price rises, that means each day we are bringing home less and less food.”

One of the most visible global economic impacts of Russia’s war in Ukraine can be found here in Egypt. More specifically, it can be found in Egyptian bread, aysh, the lifeblood of Egyptian families.

Prewar Egypt, the biggest importer of wheat in the world, obtained 80% of its wheat from Ukraine and Russia. Now it sources from other Black Sea countries at a price several times higher: From January 2022 to December, flour prices here jumped from £4,700 (Egyptian) per ton to more than £11,000.

In an attempt to keep the staple affordable, bakers are downsizing – literally.

The small aysh, or pita, bread that was once 90 grams (3.17 ounces) is now half that. And what used to be a “large” loaf has dropped in weight from 180 grams to 85.

Many bread-reliant Egyptians are literally eating half what they used to.

“Everyone is complaining; they know the size is getting smaller and the price is the same, but what can we do?” says baker Mohammed, sliding a tray of dough made from government-price-controlled flour into an oven at his bakery in Manshiyat Nasr, a working-class Cairo neighborhood, in mid-November.

He and his daughter have had to impose their own austerity, he says, and have gone from eating chicken or other meat twice a week to twice a month. He shrugs. “We all have to make do.”

Taylor Luck

A man tends to his chicks at his home chicken coop in Cairo, Nov. 8, 2022. Some Egyptians have tried raising chickens at home to sell to their neighbors, but the rising cost of imported animal feed has made such ventures less profitable.

The rising cost of imported feed and the loss of Ukrainian corn have led to soaring poultry and beef prices. Many families have cut down daily meals of chicken or beef to once a week or once a month.

To impress a dinner guest and show off their hospitality, working-class Egyptians now brew up a lentil stew rather than cook a chicken. Yet even lentils, the old reliable “meat of the poor,” have gone up in price due to a rise in fuel and shipping costs, jumping from £10 per kilogram a few years ago to £60 now.

Grocery shops and butchers in Cairo hang handwritten signs in their windows with a request: “Please do not ask about discounts.”

But the hardships are not just from Russia’s war and the associated energy crisis.

A devaluation of the Egyptian pound in early December – the third of the year by the government, imposed in order to secure International Monetary Fund financing – meant Egypt’s currency was devalued by 36% in the course of 2022, affecting every commodity. Annual inflation hit 18.75% in November.

“It has completely changed how the market works, how much people buy, how much we order from suppliers, how suppliers prepare. We are all affected,” says Cairo grocer Youssef al-Sharqawi.

“Instead of buying a kilo of apples, people buy a single apple, a lone potato instead of a bag.”

Outside Mr. Sharqawi’s grocery store in Manshiyat Nasr, Um Omarka holds up a bag containing five carrots and a bell pepper.

While previously she would cook an oven-roasted saniya chicken and vegetables for dinner, the handful of produce in her bag would have to do for her, her husband, and three children today.

“See what your prices make us do?” she says to Mr. Sharqawi, half-jokingly.

Many families like hers now rely on cheese and eggs for protein; some parents say they regularly go to bed hungry to make sure their children eat.

“We can deal with hunger; the children come first,” Um Omarka says.

Taylor Luck

Grocer Youssef al-Sharqawi at his shop in the Cairo working-class neighborhood of Manshiyat Nasr, Nov. 9, 2022. Inflation, he says, has greatly affected how much people buy.

As a solution, some entrepreneurial Egyptians started raising chickens in makeshift coops on their apartment building roofs. By cutting out middlemen and transport costs, they could sell to their neighbors at a lower price.

Yet a 67% rise in imported animal feed prices in October rendered many of these ventures nonviable.

Struggling to find buyers for home-raised chickens, some residents are culling their chicks.

Poultry shopkeeper Fahd Abu Ahmed says he has never seen anything like it in his 10 years in the chicken business. He gestures to a caged chicken next to him.

“This chicken just sits there, getting more expensive,” he says, noting the per-kilogram price of the same chicken went up 14% in a matter of hours.

“Before, poultry was a sure thing. It was cheap and easy money; everyone was happy,” he says as he politely declines a haggling shopper’s offer.

“Now we can’t collect the money we need to pay the chicken hatchers for the next shipment.”

Even Egyptians in farming villages normally more cushioned from urban price hikes are having to cut corners due to the rising costs of fuel used to pump water, irrigate, and transport crops. Heat waves, too, have spoiled harvests.

“People are culling their chickens, [and] mango and date prices are going up even though they come from our own soil,” says farmer Mohammed, outside Luxor. “If it wasn’t for our vegetables and government-priced bread, many of us couldn’t find ways to feed our kids.”

The Egyptian government says much of a $3 billion loan from the International Monetary Fund secured in mid-December will be spent on social safety nets to help insulate the most vulnerable Egyptians from rising prices.

Others defer to an even higher power.

“We may not have much food,” Mostafa says as he walks out of a Cairo mosque after noon prayers, “but we have God. And God is generous.”

Hamada Elrasam contributed to this report.

Trevor Beck Frost went to the Amazon jungle to make a film about anacondas. While in Peru, he discovered a more compelling subject: a man attempting to reintroduce an orphaned ocelot into the wild.

“Wildcat,” which Mr. Frost co-directed with Melissa Lesh, tells the story of Harry Turner, a British ex-soldier who’d fought in Afghanistan. Dealing with depression and post-traumatic stress disorder, Mr. Turner flew to the Peruvian Amazon to take his own life. He reasoned that no one would know what had become of him.

In Peru, Mr. Turner eventually met Samantha Zwicker, a young scientist trying to reintegrate an ocelot into its habitat. Their friendship and common mission helped Mr. Turner start to heal.

Mr. Frost spoke with the Monitor via Zoom about the film, now streaming on Amazon Prime Video. The conversation has been edited for length and clarity.

How did caring for the ocelot help Mr. Turner mend?

He struggles with depression and PTSD. And then he also has this serious idea that he’s failed at everything that he’s done before and that connects back to the war. He very quickly went to ... the front lines in Afghanistan and comes to the realization that he’s fighting a war that he doesn’t believe in and he doesn’t really understand why he’s there. So when he got to the [Peruvian] rainforest, he was really looking for something that would make him feel alive and give him a sense of purpose. 

It was truly a story of redemption. More than anything, that sense of purpose was tied to this idea that something needed him. 

What challenges did you face in the jungle? 

When everyone asks us what was the most difficult thing about making this film, it certainly wasn’t the physical aspects of production. It was the emotional aspects. It was watching people that you cared so deeply about struggling so intensely. This was really the first time in my life where I was exposed to people who are struggling with such darkness at times. I certainly wasn’t prepared for that. 

COURTESY OF AMAZON PRIME VIDEO

“Wildcat” co-director Trevor Beck Frost says of Keanu, the ocelot, “It’s quite intoxicating to be around an animal that’s so beautiful and elegant and strong.”

Did you fall in love with Keanu, the ocelot, even though you had no interaction due to the protocols limiting his human contact? 

Every single time we would go down to the rainforest, Harry would have hours of footage to share with us. There was some sort of new behavior or something funny that Keanu did, like climb a tree and fall down, or encountering a crocodile or a snake. ... We were able to see him [and] it’s quite intoxicating to be around an animal that’s so beautiful and elegant and strong.

There’s a phrase, “healing through nature,” that has been used to describe this movie. What does that phrase mean to you?

Of the last 15 years, I’ve spent the majority of my time actually in super remote environments away from my family and friends. I find that almost all of my worries and anxieties and concerns go away. My depression usually lifts. Certainly that was what drew Harry and Samantha to the rainforest. 

[Studies have shown] that when patients have photos of nature in a hospital room … [they] recover faster than patients that have nothing or have other artwork. ... They actually started to take patients out into little rooftop gardens ... and they saw even faster recovery times from illness and from surgery.  

Even though we see Harry in particular continuing to struggle throughout this process ... his life was saved by that place.

What do you hope viewers will learn about wildlife conservation?  

We live in a world where increasingly people are afraid to take action. There’s a general belief that you need to have X, Y, Z certifications before you go out and do something. There’s a lot of problems, not just in wildlife conservation … but in so many different social issues. We need more people who are willing to just act and figure out things in the process. What I want people to take away from [the film] is that you can make a difference. You don’t have to have every single thing lined up perfectly before you take something on.

“Wildcat” is rated R for language. The film is available to stream on Amazon Prime Video.

Reuters

A woman drives near a house displaying graffiti from the National Liberation Army (ELN) and the Oliver Sineterra front of the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia (FARC) in Tumaco, Colombia.

There were plenty of reasons to be skeptical last August when Gustavo Petro, a leftist economist and former member of a guerrilla movement, was sworn in as president of Colombia, pledging to achieve “total peace” after the country’s long history of violent domestic conflicts. Yet his maximal vision is now showing modest momentum.

On New Year’s Eve, the government announced a six-month cease-fire with five violent paramilitary groups. That agreement extends and broadens a unilateral truce by the largest such faction, the National Liberation Army (known by its Spanish acronym ELN), that started on Christmas Eve.

The suspension of conflict, which will be monitored by national and international observers, is evidence of an emerging consensus between the government and its primary armed foes that building a lasting peace starts with shared measures of compassion.

In a first round of talks last month, the government and ELN rebels agreed to coordinate “emergency care” in communities most afflicted by violence. The Petro administration has established nearly 200 “unified command posts” throughout the country, uniting local authorities and civil society organizations to address issues like land disputes and violence against women. Since Mr. Petro took office, the government and the ELN have released prisoners in reciprocal gestures of goodwill.

The goal is to “reverse the humanitarian tragedy in concrete terms,” said Otty Patiño, the government’s chief negotiator. His ELN counterpart, Pablo Beltrán, said, “The work we have is of reconciliation, of finding common points again, of building a nation of peace and equity.”

Cease-fires, of course, are no guarantee of peace. They can be broken or used as an opportunity to rearm. A previous Colombian government made ending hostilities the outcome rather than a precondition of its landmark 2016 peace accord that stopped five decades of conflict with the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia, long the most potent guerrilla movement.

Mr. Petro’s peace efforts, however, have strong public support. An Invamer Poll in October found that more than two-thirds of Colombians support renewed talks with the ELN – which failed seven times under previous governments – and three-fourths back dialogue with rebel groups over military action. Mexico is set to host a second round of talks between the government and ELN later this month.

Beyond the five groups included in the cease-fire, at least 20 more have signaled their interest in participating in the government’s peace agenda. The United Nations estimates that as many as 10,000 militants are still engaged in at least six armed conflicts. The ELN’s reach is particularly broad, with as many as 5,000 members active in more than 180 municipalities.

The Norwegian Refugee Council estimates that violence has disrupted the free movement and economic activity of 2.6 million Colombians this year alone. Some 100,000 people lived in forced confinement under militia control.

“Peacebuilding takes a lot of time,” former President Juan Manuel Santos, who brokered the 2016 peace accords, told the International Center for Transitional Justice in 2020. “The most difficult part is to reconcile, to heal the wounds. ... The stars that guide you are the rights of the victims.”

As a new year starts, Colombia is one of a few conflict-ridden countries taking concrete steps toward peace. By drawing armed rivals into the shared work of caring for local communities, Mr. Petro is showing that peace is more than the absence of war.