Surviving security at the Summit of the Americas
In a sea of unending body searches, security scanners and barricades, a lone comfort zone existed at the Fifth Summit of the Americas: the stylishly designed media centre that offered a contrasting feel of air-conditioned numbness and the warmth of an attentive staff.
An expected air of professionalism and a continuous flow of courtesy defined protocol in the media centre, and outside of the infrequent squabbles for work stations, it was a haven inside the high alert zone of summit deliberations.
There was no urgency and no reason to leave the centre except if selected to cover an event, for it meant continuous scrutiny until you were safe inside its walls again.
The arrival of US President Barack Obama in Trinidad could have easily been covered from the office desk at the centre, as was his open-air closing press conference, which was open only to the US media travelling with him.
The media centre was an enviable work space of quiet, high speed internet, useful office equipment, and live summit feeds at every available desk. The only interruptions were the staff constantly asking, “Does the internet work okay,” and “Is there anything I can do to improve accommodations,” as well as a few run-ins with reporters who designated some cubicles their own.
“You’re muy mal [very bad]”, a Spanish speaking journalist said to me as she marched off to another cubicle on the advice of a summit staffer. She later apologized in Spanish and English saying that she was unclear as to the rules of the media centre, which clearly stated in both languages that an available work station was simply that, available for use by any journalist.
By any measure security was the defining feature of the summit, stretching from the streets, where barriers isolated the populace from the hub of activity and some attendees from a decent meal, to the access buildings where the scrutiny was rigorous and at times, intrusive.
The high security alert atmosphere was pervasive, except for the media centre at the IFC Building, Trinidad, where the constant shake-downs were non-existent and the freedom to breathe easily was a welcome luxury.
Protocol
Any up-close sighting of the US President meant no use of cellular phones and both hands at a position visible to the US secret service agents, but very few journalists had the opportunity to follow the rules for his high profile presence was largely shut off from media-related events.
On a few occasions when the local security officers were spotted they too were firm on the measures, but executed their duties without the invasive kind of scrutiny that others often implemented, such as questioning if the photograph on the accreditation badge was a digital shot and if, “you were told to not to smile for the picture.”
“This kind of behavior is outside of protocol,” one regional media worker said. Indeed, protocol was the buzz word for the summit. The media, close to 700 visible, were briefed on the rules via a media handbook prepared by the National Accreditation Office, Trinidad, which felt committed enough to be disbursing the summit-related materials including accreditation passes at Piarco International Airport at midnight when I flew in on Wednesday last.
The Hyatt Regency Hotel was virtually off-limits, a heavily secured, no-go zone for anyone without “legitimate business and of critical importance” one security official relayed to me, directing implying that even the press had no business there though all the hemispheric leaders were checked in at the hotel for some three days. The press, he said, “have to stay outside for security reasons” and sternly related that he was there to enforce the rules.
On a regular summit day, six security checks seemed normal when accessing any of the event venues, as the officers requested personal items including scarves and sometimes shoes, saying the catchphrase, “its protocol.”
Media pools
Summit protocol stipulated that the visiting media outside of the US press corp that travelled with President Barack Obama must be pooled to provide coverage for any event, with 25 persons in every pool. But even in print and when orally conveyed, the media pool seemed confusing, and the South African company, Globe Cast that was contracted to managed media coverage offered no clear idea of how the system works.
Journalists were subtly told that the pools were going to be discriminatory because, “you are lucky if you ever get selected”, one Globe Cast representative said.
But the international agencies such as Reuters, AP, Al Jazeera and AFP were guaranteed spots on every media pool, as well as at least one Trinidadian media house.
But the media was largely isolated from the hemispheric leaders, and were pooled for simply photo opportunities and opening remarks, before being shuttled out of the venues. Tracking the story down meant either waiting until information is fed into the media centre, or camping out for hours and waiting until the leaders wrap up discussions and emerge from their deliberations.
Accommodation
The cost of accommodation and meals in Trinidad were borne by visiting journalists, but the organizers provided snacks, regular burgers, and a shuttle in the area under lock-down for the summit. The shuttle left promptly on time every day and same at night, but there were designated areas where it was allowed to operate.
Delegates and media representatives staying outside of the lock-down zone were required to get transportation from the shuttle drop off point, and often there was none, as taxi operators were barred from operating within the area.
“It’s either you know a friend here or you walk to where you are going,” a shuttle bus driver informed me one night.
Since there were no taxis available at the time, it meant walking to the guesthouse, but heavy security presence on the streets up to midnight and sometimes, beyond during the summit shepherded me to safety.
