Black Markets, Illicit Activities, Untold Stories, and Mariana van Zeller

By: Margaret Andersen (MIA ‘22)

International investigative journalist Mariana van Zeller has spent time in Portugal (her home country), Syria, Brazil, and the United States, notably, during her tenure as a correspondent. She is particularly interested in black markets, which she explores in her National Geographic documentary series, Trafficked with Mariana van Zeller.  Mariana joins us at Columbia for an event, “Untold Stories,” on Monday, February 22nd, 2021.

On Friday afternoon, Mariana and I chatted (via Zoom) about her path as an international correspondent, beginning with her experiences here at Columbia. In vibrant and enthralling detail, she gave me a peek into her series, career, and life. Throughout, Mariana emanated passion and compassion for the world and people of the world while tactfully highlighting the gravity and importance of her work. 

Below is our conversation, condensed for clarity. 

Q: To start, what brought you to journalism? There are clear ties to your undergraduate degree in international affairs, but why journalism, why New York, and why Columbia?

Well, it started when I was 12 years old—I used to watch the nightly news with my family. It was almost a mandatory viewing every night. This was also a time when we had two television stations, so there was not much else to watch. I always really admired the anchors—they seemed to know so much about the world. They covered everything from the economy in China to violence in Rio de Janeiro. At the time, I had no idea they were reading from a teleprompter. I just thought they were the smartest human beings on Earth! I was enthralled by the incredible knowledge about the world, and watching the reporters was pretty much when I decided, “okay, this is it.” With that, I also have been incredibly curious, which made me want to be a journalist. 

Knowing that, I went to school for international relations in Portugal, and right after I graduated, I applied to Columbia University. I knew that Columbia had one of the best journalism programs in the world, and I knew that’s where I wanted to study. I applied for the first year and didn’t get in. I applied for a second year and was put on the waitlist. This made me very excited and hopeful, but ultimately I didn’t get in. The third time I applied, I flew to New York and knocked on the Dean’s door. He sat me down and asked me all kinds of questions about why I wanted to be a journalist and what sort of journalist I wanted to be. A few months later, I got the call. At the time, I was working at one of Portugal’s largest new corporations. I was working in the newsroom when I got the call that I got into Columbia and started jumping up and down, crying and screaming. I called my mom immediately and she was also crying and screaming. It was one of the happiest days of my life, and that’s how it all started. 

Q: As an alum of Columbia’s Journalism School, how do you feel that your education here contributed to your career, if at all? 

It helped me tremendously. At the time, what I needed was a window into journalism in the United States. My family is all Portuguese, and I don’t come from a journalism background. I also didn’t have any connections in the United States. My education really gave me an understanding of how journalism works and the necessary connections in the United States. 

Q: Were you always interested in working internationally? How do you think that your international scope as a journalist has oriented your work and, more broadly, your worldview?

I have always felt comfortable traveling around the world—partially because of my language skills. Believe it or not, speaking five languages really helps! I have also always been led by my curiosity about the world. I wanted to do more international coverage. I didn’t know if I would have the opportunity, but that was always the goal. Actually, when I arrived at Columbia, I had to take ‘Reporting and Writing 1’ for my degree, and my first or second week, they asked the students to go out and look for a neighborhood we wanted to cover. We were told that we had to cover the ‘beats’ in these neighborhoods—the police beat, the crime beat, etc. For this assignment, I went to a neighborhood in Queens that had one of the largest immigrant populations at the time. Most of the immigrants in this neighborhood were Spanish-speaking, and I knew that I could speak the language and understand the culture to an extent, so I would feel very much at home. 

Initially, for this assignment, I picked a neighborhood in the Bronx, which turned out to be one of the most dangerous neighborhoods in the city at the time. I remember this because when I arrived in that neighborhood, I walked up to a police officer and said, “Hi, I am a journalism student with Columbia University and would love to know more about this neighborhood. Where should I start?” Mind you, this was my second week in New York and I had never lived in the United States before. He responded by saying, “Well, if I were you, I would stay on this main street. I wouldn’t go left; I wouldn’t go right. I wouldn’t go too far down or back; I would actually leave because this is one of the most dangerous neighborhoods and definitely not where you want to be.” So I ended up choosing the neighborhood in Queens instead. 

Q: How do you balance your curiosity with your safety and the safety of your crew? In the moment, what does that calculus look like for you?

I always say that when I am in the field, I have this balance between curiosity and fear. There is this ongoing battle between the two, and in this battle—for me—curiosity always wins. That’s not always the best idea, but you learn to experience things and take a step back when you are in these situations. I had a professor in journalism tell me once that there is always a line that you should never cross, but you have to make damn sure that you come back with chalk on your feet. I trying to get as close as possible to the story but never cross that line in terms of security. 

Q: How does this play out in your work and why did that advice stick with you? Are there any situations where you got “chalk on your feet,” so to speak?

For me, this really means that you shouldn’t be afraid to take risks. Not crossing this line could also mean that you stay miles away from it. The most important part of the phrase is the second part—making sure that you come back with chalk on your feet. That’s the part that I took to heart: always getting as close to the story as possible. If I am interviewing someone and they share their experiences, I want to make sure that I understand what they actually are. I want to know what it is like to live in that area, what their home or work is like, what their environment is like. These situations get me closer to the truth. In some situations—such as in Trafficked which is all about black markets, getting close to the action where traffickers are working is a situation in which the security line gets blurred. This is why I think that it’s always important to take a step back because no story is worth a life. That constant recalibrating is very important. 

Q: One piece of the series that resonated with me was your sentiment about really understanding the people who are participating in these high-risk situations and working to get to know what their experiences are like. What drew you to interact with people through this lens, and how does it tie into your work? 

I think this has a lot to do with the fact that I am really curious about people and what makes them tick. You know, the first black market story that I did was in Syria. After Columbia University I moved to the Middle East and did my first story about Syrian jihadis crossing into Iraq to fight against Americans. I had been in New York during 9/11 and I reported for Portugal about 9/11. It had a very deep impact on me personally—I had seen the suffering around me. When I moved to Syria I started thinking about doing a story about jihadis. I had a Syrian friend who came from a border town and he told me that his friends are going to Iraq to fight Americans. He said that the ones who died were hailed as martyrs and the ones who came back were hailed as heroes. At the time no one was reporting on this at all.  He eventually agreed to take me and help me with the story. Beforehand, I thought that there could not possibly be much common ground between myself and the people I was going to meet. For all intents and purposes, this was “the enemy.” Of course, I wanted to act nicely because I ultimately wanted to sit down and talk to them—to be given access to their world. I didn’t think for a second that I was going to connect with them or even particularly like them, to put it bluntly. After a few days, I was surprised by how much we had in common! There is one specific example of a man who got on his knees and sang the famous Celine Dion song from Titanic. He didn’t know how to speak a word of English but had memorized all of the words to this one song. So here he was, on his knees, basically serenading me with a song that was the most popular song when I was growing up, and there were so many moments like this. The same guy was also the clown of the neighborhood and all of the kids wanted to spend time with him—he was funny, he was sweet, he was kind, and yet he had gone several times across the border to kill Americans. This was when I realized that the sort of journalism that I want to do, that I feel comfortable doing, and that I feel comes innately to me is driven by empathy. The whole idea gets away from judgment which was a huge learning lesson for me. I also learned about how I wanted to focus on black markets and the more secretive corners of the world. 

Q: As you are covering often illegal and dangerous activities, such as the fentanyl trade, how do you cultivate an environment where your contacts and the people involved feel comfortable discussing their roles honestly and openly?

This process ties in with empathy. I think it is incredibly important to treat everyone on the same level, and with respect and with trust. I think that if you do these things, they will treat you with trust and respect back. I say this all the time, and I cannot say enough about how important this is. I make it very clear to my team that this is a mandatory requirement when working in this type of environment, and my team really brings this to the environments with me. When you are working with people from a cartel, you are not going to start by being rude and dismissive. My job there is not to be rude and dismissive but really try to understand what got him to where he is. From there, it is up to the viewers (in the case of Trafficked) to make up their own minds about what they think about that person. 

Q: Do you have advice for students in my position hoping to start a career in your field—specifically at the intersection of international affairs and journalism?

My advice: don’t be discouraged. Don’t give up. It’s not always easy. When I moved to Syria to learn Arabic, I was a freelance journalist. I had no money, so what I did to fund my journalism at the time was buy Syrian rugs and ship them to my mom, who had tea parties to sell them, and then sends the money back. So, determination goes a long way. Be entrepreneurial! If journalism isn’t paying at that time, figure out a way to pay so that you can continue to pursue your journalism dreams. If you want it enough, it will happen. 

Another thing that I think is important to figure out where you have the upper hand. After Syria (I didn’t learn much Arabic), I asked myself, “Where can I go? What do I have that thousands of other journalists don’t have?” This, for me, was my language abilities. I know how to speak Portuguese. So, I moved to Brazil, which has hundreds of story ideas on a daily basis and is incredibly rich and colorful. In my first week there, I was going through the local newspapers and I ended up finding a story that was my first story for Frontline World PBS. Figure out what it is that you have that others don’t. 

Q: In closing, what is a question that I should have asked you but didn’t?

One question that people often ask—which I like because I think it is important to mention—is in regards to gender. The work that I do is very much a “man’s job.” Most of the people involved in this type of reporting—dangerous environments—are men. Even within the black markets, the population is mainly men. There are definitely exceptions to this, including Christiane Amanpour, who was my idol growing up. Despite this, I think that there is an enormous advantage to being a woman. The empathy piece, which is so important in gaining access and getting to the truth, is something that women have, I believe, more than men. In general, we are also seen as less threatening in these worlds, so men are willing to open up their lives and their stories to us. It is very disarming for them. For me, my gender has been nothing but helpful. 

Photo Credit: National Geographic/Stewart Volland