Jessica Hill/AP

Ashnaelle Bijoux sits outside on campus, April 27, 2024, at Norwich Free Academy in Norwich, Connecticut. Ashnaelle, a high school senior, had been unable to complete the FAFSA form due to a glitch with the form.

Millions of prospective U.S. college students are scrambling to determine which school to attend in the fall, or whether to go at all. The hang-up? Federal student funding packages, supposed to arrive weeks – if not months – earlier, are still trickling in. 

A revamp of the Free Application for Federal Student Aid, or FAFSA, that was supposed to make the lengthy process easier has done just the opposite. Repeated delays, technical glitches, and new requirements have combined for a frustrating process that experts say has undermined public confidence in access to higher education. It will have serious consequences, they say, for the students who need it most. 

“This FAFSA rollout has been a train wreck,” says Robert Kelchen, head of the Department of Educational Leadership and Policy Studies at the University of Tennessee, Knoxville. 

FAFSA funding impacts the entire ecosystem of higher education. “This affects students. This affects colleges. It affects the states because they’re having to delay their financial aid to students as well,” Professor Kelchen says. “And it definitely does not help the public trust in higher education.”

What is FAFSA funding and who uses it? 

The FAFSA program expands access to postsecondary education through a collection of financial tools. Funding is based on need and includes the Pell Grant, which now provides up to $7,395 per school year to low-income students. Federal aid also provides work-study programs for students and government-subsidized loans, which have flexible repayment programs based on the student’s income – and don’t begin until a student is out of school. Federal loans also qualify for federal forgiveness programs, like ones for certain teachers, health care professionals, or government employees. 

As the FAFSA program has grown since the inception of federal student financial aid in 1965, so, too, has the type of students who use it: They’re more diverse in terms of race, family income, and first-generation status, explains Professor Kelchen. “And it’s not necessarily the FAFSA that’s causing that, but it’s just a more diverse group of young and middle-aged people. And there are fewer people with the ability to pay for college out of pocket,” he says.

A 2020 federal law triggered the new application, which is aimed at streamlining the notoriously complicated and time-consuming aid process and, in turn, encouraging more students to pursue college. The new form has fewer questions and links directly to the IRS to pull in parents’ tax information. 

For most, the new application will, eventually, be easier to fill out. But the current process has thrown up hurdles to even straightforward applications – and is even trickier for students whose families vary from the two-parent, married-filing-jointly model. 

How is the new FAFSA affecting students? 

Far fewer students are applying for aid, which means fewer students will head back to school in the fall, say experts. Just over 38% of high school seniors had filled out a FAFSA application by May 3. Last year, it was nearly 60%, according to the National College Attainment Network, which helps connect students from all backgrounds to postsecondary schools.  

Looking at total applicants, the gap is even bigger: On May 7, the Department of Education reported more than 9 million FAFSA submissions. Three years ago, it was 18 million. 

The fact that there are fewer applicants makes sense, says Brendan Williams, a financial aid expert at uAspire, a nonprofit that works with students from underrepresented communities to access funding for college. With loan debt and the skyrocketing costs of higher education making headlines, students are reluctant to pursue more schooling if the cost is ambiguous. 

“Would you buy a house without knowing the cost of things? Absolutely not. Would you buy a car without knowing the cost? Absolutely not,” Mr. Williams says, pointing out that the cost of college can rival that of a home. “[Students are] being asked to make a decision without knowing the cost, and choose between options for what, for many students, is a price-driven decision.”

Courtesy of Audrey Wiebe

Bakersfield High School senior Audrey Wiebe is among millions of students relying on federal financial aid to help pay for college. The new FAFSA form was easy to fill out, she says – but the process has been frustrating. Audrey will attend the University of Southern California this fall.

When did the breakdown start and what are the deadlines now?

Application delays for the 2024-25 school year started last October, when the new FAFSA was supposed to launch. The opening of the online application portal was pushed back to the end of December and by mid-January was fully open. By late March, more than 1.5 million applications had been processed and relayed to schools, but a number of those had inaccurate aid estimates based on incomplete data. Students seeking help were met with difficult-to-reach customer service. 

Meanwhile, schools – which use that FAFSA information to put together aid offers for students – pushed back the deadline for students to decide whether to attend. Normally that commitment deadline is May 1. Most colleges and universities now have a May 15 or June 1 deadline. 

Audrey Weibe knows all too well the frustrations of waiting on this year’s FAFSA. The delays have the Bakersfield High School student thinking twice about her dream school, wondering if it will be worth the cost. 

“It’s been stressful,” she says. “It kind of changed my perspective from, ‘This has been my dream school for the past two years’ ... into, ‘OK, should I go to a school where I know I’m guaranteed a scholarship just because I don’t know when the aid will come out?’”

For some of the highest-need applicants, just $500 could make all the difference, says Mr. Williams. 

Are there pros as well as cons to the new FAFSA? 

The new form is easier to navigate. “It is a lot simpler to fill out. It’s not as confusing,” says Ruthie Welborn, assistant director of financial aid at Bakersfield College. “So once they get everything smoothed out, I do think it will actually be simpler for a student.”

But it creates an equity issue for some students: The form requires both of an applicant’s parents to provide Social Security numbers, which has created problems for children of people living in the United States illegally – even though a parent’s citizenship status does not weigh on FAFSA eligibility. The new federal aid formula also does not take into account if families are paying for more than one student’s college tuition simultaneously. 

A spokesperson for the Department of Education acknowledges the new FAFSA rollout has been problematic, but says students shouldn’t let that stop them from applying. “We appreciate your patience. And we will work to grow your trust,” he writes in an email. “Most of all – please, encourage your students to fill out the FAFSA. And in so doing, open doors to their dreams.”

All is not well at Ramallah’s first and only bagel restaurant.

The normally bustling lunch crowd of students and government workers at the New York Cafe is a mere two tables of customers lingering over coffee on an April Tuesday. Instead of catering to a dinner rush, the owners are fortunate to get a single order past 2 p.m.

Inflation and longer truck routes forced by Israeli checkpoints and road closures are driving up the cost of ingredients from tomatoes to imported New York bagels by 30%.

Multiple days a week, employees phone in to say they are unable to show up for work owing to Israeli checkpoints blocking off their home villages from Ramallah.

Like households and businesses across the West Bank, the New York Cafe is struggling.

“The economy here is a chain reaction,” says owner and manager Sami Amin. “When one link falls, the whole chain implodes.”

Since Oct. 7 and the start of the Israel-Hamas war, many links in the occupied territory’s precarious economy have broken: workers barred from jobs in Israel, Palestinian Authority (PA) funds blocked, public sector salaries slashed. Unemployment is above 40%, economists estimate.

“The stress everyone is carrying”

For Mr. Amin, who opened the cafe and restaurant in 2016, inspired by 20 years of serving up bagels in New York, it is an economic downturn that has left no person untouched.

“It is not just about the money,” says Mr. Amin. “It is the stress everyone is carrying. People don’t have 20 shekels [$5.30] in their pocket.”

“The economy is at a standstill,” says Mohammed, a PA employee sitting in an empty cafe he runs in downtown Ramallah. “No one accepts a check anymore. No one will start a project. No one is willing to part with cash because you don’t know where the next dollar will come from, or when the next emergency will hit you.”

In the West Bank, the economy is another battlefield, where Palestinians say they feel under siege and out of options.

Taylor Luck

Owner Sami Amin (left) holds up a bag of imported New York bagels as he stands alongside an employee at New York Cafe, Ramallah’s first and only bagel restaurant, in the West Bank, April 23, 2024.

Immediately in the wake of the Oct. 7 Hamas attack, Israel blocked 190,000 Palestinian workers from the West Bank; each had been earning a minimum of $2,000 per month that flowed into the West Bank, supporting businesses from restaurants to car dealerships to construction.

Israel continues to withhold PA tax revenues it collects on its behalf, which the PA relies on for 65% of its income, over the alleged concern that funds would go to PA employees in Gaza.

The combination of blocked tax revenues, a drop in donor funding, and an economic downturn has led to an overall 80% decline in PA revenue, creating a $1.5 billion budget deficit over several months.

As a result, some 130,000 public sector workers in the West Bank have received only a fraction of their wages; the thousands of doctors, nurses, teachers, and police employed by the PA have received 60% of their monthly salaries. Many employees say their reduced wages are often delayed by two months or more.

The PA last paid a full monthly salary to its employees in November 2021.  

“It’s not worth it to be an Authority employee,” says Mohammed, who gave only his first name, sitting in his cafe and not at his PA job. “At a 60% starting salary, you can barely cover the gas for your car to get to work.”

Lost work in Israel

Amid the turbulence, Habib al-Khatib and his wife, Soraida, are clinging to the hope that Israel will allow Palestinian workers to return.

Mr. Khatib is a subcontractor who takes on interior design projects inside Israel, both solo and with an Israeli contractor. He says his last project in Sakhnin, in the Galilee, is still unfinished.

He and the five workers he employed, including his sons and brother-in-law, have been sitting at home since Oct. 7. He estimates his lost income over the past six months at $26,000.

His wife has worked in the PA’s Economy Ministry for 21 years, but has not received a full salary in three years. Although it has been a hardship, Mr. Khatib’s Israel work allowed them to manage.

“This was not an issue until my salary became our only source of income,” Ms. Khatib says. “The bank takes up more than half of it to cover our loans.”

The prospects of Mr. Khatib finding a job or projects are slim.

“There are no jobs in the West Bank,” Ms. Khatib says.

Nicolas Maeterlinck/BELGA/Reuters

The West Bank city of Ramallah is pictured March 28, 2024. Israeli checkpoints and road closures often mean commuters from surrounding villages cannot get to their jobs in the city.

Najib Abu Amer, a former construction worker in Israel, and his wife, Alia, a government school teacher, are joining a new trend of reverse migration from Ramallah.

After years of attracting thousands of Palestinians from other towns and villages, as it emerged as the West Bank’s main economic and government hub, Ramallah, with its high rents and limited opportunities, is pushing people away.

The couple’s income has dropped by more than half since the Oct. 7 attack, when Mr. Abu Amer’s employer contacted him to inform him it was no longer safe to come to work.

“It was a tough decision, but we all thought it would be a matter of a week or two,” says Mr. Abu Amer.

The pair are planning to take their three children and move back to their home village of Qabalan, outside Nablus, some 40 kilometers (25 miles) from Ramallah.

It is not an easy decision.

“We are planning to move back to our village, but that would mean I might have to commute to Ramallah and back, which will cost more than half my current salary,” says Ms. Abu Amer.

“People can’t travel”

Of even more concern are long, unpredictable commutes “through checkpoints and uncertainty.” Main roads are subject to closure by the Israeli military, and bypass roads have witnessed deadly Israeli settler violence against Palestinians.

These very same dangers have led many universities to keep classes online.

Thousands of PA employees, meanwhile, are unable to make it to work, and the lack of movement of people has led to a lack of movement of trade and money within the West Bank.

“I haven’t stepped one foot outside Ramallah since Oct. 7,” says Mohammed, the cafe owner in downtown Ramallah. “People can’t travel, they can’t get to work, and they can’t shop – economically we are cut off from one another.”

At the New York Cafe, Mr. Amin estimates that 90% of his ingredients and products, as for all restaurants, are imported from and through Israel.

With restrictions and checkpoints, the minimum fee that truckers are now accepting is $535 to take goods from Israel into Ramallah – driving up costs for consumers. With no new customers at 3 p.m., Mr. Amin muses he may have to close up early.

“If you want to get rich, go somewhere else,” he says with a smile. “Here in Palestine your goal is just to survive another day.”

Alex Kofi Donkor is used to speaking out in support of Ghana’s LGBTQ+ community. For the past eight years, the activist has fearlessly led protests and panel discussions on gay rights. He has written blogs calling out homophobia and has lobbied lawmakers.

But now things feel very different. Since Ghana’s Parliament passed a bill in February that makes even identifying as gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, or queer a crime, Mr. Donkor has been living in constant fear. Hanging over his head is the possibility that much of his previous work – from setting up pride billboards to speaking to journalists – will soon be punishable by a jail sentence if Ghana’s president, Nana Akufo-Addo, signs the legislation into law. 

“This bill is simply criminalizing the existence of a queer person,” he says. 

“It’s an open door to violence,” adds Larissa Kojoué, an LGBT rights researcher for Human Rights Watch. “Anybody can talk to you badly, aggress you physically, morally, in so many ways because the law allows it.”

Ghana’s new law is the latest in a series of recent policy shifts across Africa that have chipped away at the rights of LGBTQ+ people. These laws are jeopardizing the freedoms and safety of an already vulnerable group of people, the laws’ opponents say. Still, activists and leaders are not letting the rollbacks happen in silence. In Ghana, for instance, activists have pushed for a presidential veto, and now, they’re challenging the law before the country’s Supreme Court. 

Francis Kokoroko/Reuters

Gay couple Suleman, 30, an entrepreneur, and Kwame, 30, a student, are fearful about the implications of Ghana's anti-LGBTQ+ bill.

“Treated as criminals”

Consensual same-sex acts are already illegal in Ghana, but the new bill introduces fines of up to $4,700 and prison terms of up to three years for anyone who even identifies as LGBTQ+ or asserts a gender identity different from the one they were assigned at birth. It also criminalizes LGBTQ+ advocacy, and punishes people for failing to report the LGBTQ+ status of other people – including members of their own families – to the authorities. 

The law, officially called the Promotion of Proper Human Sexual Rights and Ghanaian Family Values Bill, dates back to mid-2021.

It emerged at a time when antigay sentiment was already building in Ghana. In February 2021, police raided the offices of an organization called LGBT+ Ghana, which Mr. Donkor had founded to help members of the LGBTQ+ community with food, clothing, access to therapy, job training, medical services, and even legal assistance, along with much-needed camaraderie.

The authorities later shut the group down.

During Pride month the next year, Mr. Donkor and fellow activists were horrified when crowds – encouraged by members of Parliament – tore down the billboards they had put up that read “Tolerance, Love and Acceptance.”

Government has “a mandate to protect every citizen,” Mr. Donkor says. But instead, LGBTQ+ activists are often arrested and “treated as criminals before we even get the opportunity to seek justice.” 

LGBT+ Ghana has since shrunk its scope of activities and gone offline to protect clients and staff. Mr. Donkor also takes care to keep himself safe: He doesn’t travel alone at night, and he makes sure that no one knows where he lives. But with the bill sitting on the president’s desk, protecting himself feels harder than ever. 

Francis Kokoroko/Reuters

Samuel Nartey George, a politician and sponsor of Ghana's recently passed anti-LGBTQ+ bill, speaks in his office about the delays in signing the bill into law.

A rising tide

Ghana’s bill is the latest in a series of anti-LGBTQ+ laws that have entered the statute books across the continent in recent years. 

In 2023, Kenya, Namibia, Niger, Tanzania, and Uganda all proposed or enacted laws or policies curtailing the rights of LGBTQ+ people. In total, more than 30 African countries criminalize homosexuality in some way. 

The momentum of recent antigay legislation in Africa has been fueled by religious organizations in the West. 

For instance, American Christian organizations such as Family Watch International – designated a “hate group” by the Southern Poverty Law Center – and the World Congress of Families have actively supported anti-LGBTQ+ legislation worldwide since the early 2000s. 

“Look at the kind of language that the U.S. Christian right has historically used in the United States,” says Haley McEwen, author of “The U.S. Christian Right and Pro-Family Politics in 21st Century Africa.” ”We’ve been able to see African political and religious leaders using that exact same language.” 

These organizations have funneled tens of millions of dollars into campaigns to roll back LGBTQ+ rights in African countries, created a caucus at the United Nations for the purpose of “thwarting the radical sexual rights agenda,” and built ties with influential legal groups like the African Bar Association. 

“You will see the same narrative again and again” – that homosexuality is a foreign import, says Ms. Kojoué from Human Rights Watch. “It’s paradoxical because most [antigay activism] relies on religious values” that originate in the Western world, she points out.

Family Watch International and the World Congress of Families did not respond to requests for comment.

For religious and cultural reasons, Ghana’s bill enjoys significant popular support. But activists and some Ghanaian political leaders are pushing back against the idea that homosexuality is “anti-African” and are urging the president to veto the bill. 

For instance, former parliamentarian Samia Yaba Nkruman, the daughter of Ghana’s first president, Kwame Nkrumah, has urged the president not to sign the law, and the Finance Ministry has also discreetly advised a veto, warning that Ghana could lose nearly $4 billion in funding from international financial institutions if the law passes. 

This month, Ghana’s Supreme Court began hearing arguments in two separate challenges to the law’s constitutionality. Mr. Akufo-Addo says he will await the court’s decision before deciding whether to sign the law. 

Mr. Donkor says despite these flickers of hope, he remains afraid. But he is not ready to stop fighting. 

“We cannot give up on ourselves; we can’t give up on humanity,” he says. “LGBTQ persons have existed since the beginning of time. ... We have contributed in diverse ways in our history as a people. We continue to exist and we are continuously going to exist.”

FRONTLINE/Armando.info

Roberto Deniz, a Venezuelan investigative reporter, is shown in a still from the new documentary, “A Dangerous Assignment: Uncovering Corruption in Maduro’s Venezuela.”

Venezuelans are scheduled to head to the polls this summer to select a leader in the first competitive race in the Andean nation in over a decade.

The current government of Nicolás Maduro barred the opposition primary winner, María Corina Machado, from the ballot, prompting the United States to reinstate oil sanctions. But, in a surprise move, Mr. Maduro has so far allowed a new candidate, Edmundo González, to compete. He is quickly gaining popularity, leading Mr. Maduro by more than 40 points in polls.

Although few expect the race to be free or fair, exiled Venezuelan investigative reporter Roberto Deniz will be watching it closely – and with something akin to hope. He’s been reporting on the Maduro regime for the past eight years at one of Venezuela’s few remaining independent news outlets, Armando.info.

And in a new “Frontline” documentary that premiers on PBS this week called “A Dangerous Assignment,” he and his team are shown uncovering far-reaching corruption schemes that lined the pockets of Maduro government officials – and the close Maduro ally at the heart of it all.

The revelations, which led all the way to a U.S. money laundering trial and controversial prisoner swap, exemplify why trust in the Maduro regime has been eroded, and why a political change is in grasp.

Mr. Deniz recently spoke with the Monitor’s Whitney Eulich. The conversation has been edited for length and clarity.

How has the media environment changed in Venezuela between Presidents Hugo Chávez (1999-2013) and his successor Nicolás Maduro (2013-present)?

I joined Armando.info in 2016. It’s the only remaining Venezuelan media focused on investigative journalism.

I studied journalism when Chávez was in power. ... I always say we have to try to see the story of censorship during [the 25 years of the former president’s left-wing, populist political movement,] Chavismo, as a long, long line that started with Chávez and increased with Nicolás Maduro. It grew, of course, because Maduro is not a popular leader ... and the economic and social situation got much worse during his administration.

If you try to study censorship in Venezuela, 2014 was a crucial year. Many, many well-known, big media outlets were sold to “entrepreneurs” related to the Venezuelan government, the Maduro regime. It’s no coincidence Armando.info was founded that same year.

The implications are very clear. ... We don’t live in a democracy anymore. A population that has no easy possibility of getting independent information is a population that probably doesn’t really know what happens in the country.

I am a big defender of social media in a country like Venezuela, because it’s the only space that the government doesn’t at least control totally. They [can use it to] spread propaganda and misinformation. But people need [it] to make decisions. People need information to know what is really happening around them.

FRONTLINE/Armando.info

Roberto Deniz has worked for independent, investigative Venezuelan news outlet Armando.info since 2016 and went into exile in 2018 following a high-profile investigation into corruption in Venezuela.

This investigation, which started by looking into fake powdered milk provided to desperately hungry Venezuelans, led you to half-built government housing projects, and eventually to a Maduro ally, Alex Saab, facing international money laundering charges. You and your colleagues have been slapped with lawsuits, and most recently with trumped-up charges by Venezuela’s public prosecutor. What does the scandal tell us about Venezuela right now – and looking back at your work, was it worth it?

For me as a journalist, I am very confident about what I did because I think it was the correct thing. It was my duty, my responsibility. ... If you ask me on the personal side, well I am not in Venezuela since 2018 because of this investigation. I had to flee [to Colombia]. I don’t know when I will go back to Venezuela, see my family.

I think the [“Frontline”] documentary is kind of a portrait of what the Venezuelan government and regime really is. This [corruption we investigated] was happening in the worst economic and social crisis we have ever experienced in 2016, 2017, and 2018. That is very important. It’s terrible to have a government sinking in corruption, paying millions and millions of dollars to [import intentionally subpar products]. The president was getting rich while Venezuelans were suffering.

[More than 7.7 million Venezuelans have left the country due to hunger, violence, and poverty, according to the United Nations. Another 7 million still in Venezuela need humanitarian assistance.]

It’s a terrible message, and I think that’s the central reason why Maduro’s government doesn’t want this story to come out.

What is giving you hope for Venezuela right now?

I have to say I’ve been a skeptical person since I was born. ... But I think we are going to live a very important, crucial moment in the [July 28] presidential election.

That date could be the day that represents change for Venezuela, if we have the possibility of a free election. I am sure Nicolás Maduro is going to lose. If you see all the polls in Venezuela, 80% of the country say they want a change.

[That being said] I’m not sure the election will happen. Maduro knows he is going to lose; he can suspend the election. But there is a very powerful feeling right now that is against this government. And most of the top officers in government are wanted by the justice departments in the U.S., Europe, and other countries. In the end, they see power as their salvation, so it’s difficult to imagine that they’re ready to lose.

Does that mean justice for their alleged actions won’t be served in Venezuela?

It’s terrible as a journalist that has dedicated so many years to investigating corruption, human rights abuses, and other issues to accept saying it, but I’m sure that we are not going to have justice in Venezuela.

Even if there is political change, justice won’t happen. ... Maybe many years after Chavismo we can think of the idea of justice, but first we will have to focus on rebuilding institutions, rebuilding democracy, and other important things. Give people hope again, which is also very important. In this kind of process, justice is never the top priority.  

But maybe there is another way to answer this question. ... Maybe we are not going to have justice, but maybe our job as journalists is that more people, not just Venezuelans, will know what has really happened in Venezuela. For us, that’s the most important thing we leave with our work and through this documentary.

Until about a year ago, Xue Xiong had never seen a town. She lived in a small village with a dirt road that turns muddy when it rains, making travel difficult. She dropped out of school early to help her parents farm rice and breed cattle to feed her 10-member family. 

It was at Khaiphaen, a charming restaurant two hours away in Luang Prabang, that Ms. Xiong learned to dream. The Laotian fusion eatery trained her to prepare and serve food for the tourists who flock every day to the bustling city. 

“I want to save money and open my little Lao food stall, because tourists love Lao food,” says Ms. Xiong, who is Hmong, one of Laos’ marginalized ethnic minorities. “Because I feel like I can do anything now.”

Khaiphaen was opened by the Cambodia-based organization Friends-International and collaborates with the Lao government and other nonprofits to aid young people interested in culinary education as a path to more prosperous futures.

Laos is one of Asia’s least-developed countries, and poor education and the lack of economic opportunities often force children and young people there to work in lower-paid, menial jobs under exploitative conditions. Many others are trafficked into factories or prostitution.

Zinara Rathnayake

Khaiphaen, shown before opening, is typically full of tourists.

From server to entrepreneur

At almost 10 a.m. on a chilly January morning, an hour before Khaiphaen opens for the day with plates of laab (spicy minced-meat salad) and beer-battered Mekong River fish, Ms. Xiong laughs as she watches her friend, another young woman, slice carrots. Ms. Xiong shows off her yellow T-shirt from Le Petit Prince, a nearby Korean cafe where she started working after Khaiphaen. She thinks the cafe’s owner is nice, her English is improving, and soon she will play the piano at the cafe, Ms. Xiong tells her friend.

“I see children tremble the first time they come to serve,” says Khaiphaen’s restaurant manager, Anousin Phanthachith, “and then in a few years, you see them grow into entrepreneurs.” He joined the team at Friends-International in 2014 when Khaiphaen was just a concept with a few dining tables, and he has never thought of leaving. “You feel fulfilled because you help many young people – especially children who come from remote, underprivileged communities, some of them with traumatic childhoods.” 

Nearly a third of Laos’ population lives in poverty, subsisting on less than $4 a day, according to 2022 figures from the World Bank. Children bear the brunt of it. Although Laos has made progress on child mortality, 43 out of every 1,000 children die before reaching age 5 – one of the highest child mortality rates in Southeast Asia (down from 154 in 1990). The government is pushing for primary education for all children, but the number of dropouts is high. 

More than 130 students have graduated from Khaiphaen. Yet it is not a traditional cooking school, says Friends-International social worker Ae Thongkham. Besides waiting tables, students gain experience making noodle bowls with their teachers from scratch in the kitchen as well as preparing beverages. Mr. Thongkham adds that when students arrive from minority ethnic groups, many of them don’t speak Lao, the country’s official language. So at the social work center upstairs, students learn basic Lao and English, in addition to life skills such as managing their finances. 

Zinara Rathnayake

Khaiphaen, in the bustling city of Luang Prabang, serves Laotian cuisine such as sai ua (grilled pork sausage with herbs) and noodle bowls, pictured here alongside mocktails.

Students aren’t salaried but receive free training, accommodations, meals, transportation, and health care. After graduation, they are placed in hotels, cafes, and restaurants across Luang Prabang’s flourishing tourism industry.

For Mr. Phanthachith, who left his village at age 18 and studied at a temple before working at the city’s restaurants, looking after his young students has always been the priority. “We always talk to our students even after they leave the program to make sure that they are in a safe workplace that benefits them and treats them well,” he says.

A mushrooming trend

Khaiphaen is part of a series of vocational restaurants that Friends-International operates across Southeast Asia. Although some of the eateries shuttered during the coronavirus pandemic, Khaiphaen began delivering food to locals to stay afloat. In the capital, Vientiane, Khaiphaen’s sister restaurant Mini-Makphet turned into a soup kitchen, feeding underprivileged children and their mothers. Housed in a tin-roofed space with varnished wooden tables and chairs, Mini-Makphet is much more modest and mainly serves Vientiane residents.

Ketsone Philaphandet, Friends-International’s country program director for Laos, is quick to highlight that Vientiane receives far fewer tourists compared with Luang Prabang. The quiet, industrial Lao capital serves only as a pit stop for many foreign travelers exploring the country’s far-flung karst mountain towns and vibrant cultural hubs. “So we keep our prices lower and food spicier,” Ms. Philaphandet says, smiling.

Zinara Rathnayake

A teacher and a student prep ingredients.

For many young people, Mini-Makphet is a social lifeline. Mala Thoj has worked at the restaurant for only two months but can already pour a latte with a little foam heart on top. “I feel happy here, because I have friends who support me,” she says. She used to live with abusive relatives and was compelled to toil at a rubber estate. 

In a year, Mini-Makphet sees about 40 students complete the training. About 60% find employment in the hospitality industry, Ms. Philaphandet says. 

Khaiphaen and Mini-Makphet reflect a growing trend of vocational restaurants and culinary schools across the region. Some of them have great models, says Emi Weir, founder of the social enterprise Ma Té Sai, which sells handmade products crafted by Laotian women. Ms. Weir notes that although Khaiphaen lacks marketing to reach tourists who are “ready to spend more for a good cause,” its program has excellent social work, training, and outreach initiatives.

Simon Nazer, chief of communications and advocacy for UNICEF’s office in Laos, says Khaiphaen and Mini-Makphet are “excellent examples of how targeted support and education can open up new pathways for the social and economic advancement of vulnerable youth.” By providing practical skills and knowledge, Mr. Nazer adds, “these initiatives are helping to ensure [young people] have the foundation needed to thrive in the workforce and contribute positively to their communities.”

Nearly every evening, Khaiphaen hums with foreign visitors, who line up outside on the clay-tiled pathway for their turn to dine. Mr. Thongkham says Friends-International plans to expand its program in hopes of changing the prospects of many more young people than it now helps. 

Meanwhile, Ms. Xiong talks excitedly about visiting her parents soon at their village. “They are very happy I work in the city now,” she says. 

Reuters/Kevin Lamarque

U.S. President Joe Biden takes a garden walk with Chinese President Xi Jinping during a summit near San Francisco, Nov. 15, 2023.

U.S. President Joe Biden on Tuesday announced billions of dollars of new tariffs on goods from China ranging from steel products to electric cars. The move may reassure blue-collar voters, who could decide whether Mr. Biden keeps his job in November. Yet it sends an aggressive signal at an already tense point in the competition between Beijing and Washington for global influence.

Great-power rivalries, however, are seldom uniformly antagonistic. On Tuesday, Chinese and American envoys launched a new partnership in Geneva to reduce the security risks of artificial intelligence. That followed a first meeting in Washington last week of the new top policy chiefs on climate change from the two countries.

These diplomatic channels show how a shared recognition of mutual threats can motivate rivals to dissolve suspicion and build trust. The two initiatives have a common ingredient. The AI talks fulfill a commitment made by Mr. Biden and Chinese leader Xi Jinping during a garden summit in San Francisco last fall. The head of the U.S. climate delegation, John Podesta, hosted his counterpart, Liu Zhenmin, for dinner in his home.

Such personal touches in diplomacy enable adversaries to find their common humanity. “Trust depends on a mix of calculation and bonding,” wrote Nicholas J. Wheeler, a professor of international politics at the University of Birmingham in England, in his book “Trusting Enemies.” “The calculative element disappears,” he noted, as rivals “place a high value on the other’s security and care about that person’s well-being as an end in itself.”

On both issues, U.S. and Chinese negotiators have a ready model of interpersonal diplomacy to draw upon. Mr. Podesta and Mr. Liu inherited a working group shaped by the mutual respect and shared affections their predecessors cultivated during a long collaboration. Their next meeting is already booked, in Berkeley, California, at the end of May.

Reviewing his first summit with Soviet President Mikhail Gorbachev in Geneva in 1985, then-President Ronald Reagan said his priority was “to eliminate the suspicions which each side had of the other. The resolution of the other questions would follow naturally after this.” Alan Gotlieb, a former Canadian ambassador to the United States, held a similar conviction. “Sometimes personal relationships don’t fit into analysis schemes," he told a University of Toronto conference in 2011. "They’re one card, but the most important card in international relations.”

A broad range of competitive and ideological disputes divide Washington and Beijing that the new Biden tariffs may now complicate. But on two critical issues, climate change and AI, the rivals may be poised to nourish new views of each other beyond adversity.