Story by Nikki Roszko, CLA ’07

Photo courtesy of Radha Bharadwaj, SMC ’85

“Mind over matter” is a concept familiar to filmmaker Radha Bharadwaj, SMC ’85: Her work often focuses on protagonists who mount imaginative and creative defenses to overcome gross abuses of power.

In her first film, Closet Land, a woman lives in a police-run state and is tortured for a crime she did not commit. She escapes horror through her imagination, launching into a dreamlike sequence of images from the books she read as a child.

When the film was released by Universal Pictures in 1991, Bharadwaj became the first filmmaker of Indian descent to release a feature film through a major Hollywood studio. For her script, she earned the 1989 Nicholl Fellowship in Screenwriting from the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences. She considers it one of her greatest achievements.

Her second feature, Basil (1998), follows the title character’s strained relationship with a cruel and powerful father. After Basil’s father casts him out of the upper class, Basil escapes the pain of solitude and exile by becoming a novelist. Similar to what Closet Land expresses, Basil communicates that the imagination can free a person from suffering.

Radha Bharadwaj’s Closet Land earned her a 1989 Nicholl Fellowship.

Bharadwaj’s interest in experimental, psychologically oriented filmmaking took root as she earned her master of fine arts degree at Temple. While there, she immersed herself in films by iconic filmmakers such as Alfred Hitchcock, Federico Fellini and Akira Kurosawa, all of whom she notes as important influences on her artistic style.

Bharadwaj also incorporates elements of her Indian heritage into her films. For example, the tense, rigid score of Closet Land mimics what she refers to as “the very precise, almost mathematical ragas of southern Indian classical music.” Additionally, her films often feature the color red, a powerful hue in numerous Hindu rituals. She uses it as a visual motif to “celebrate strength and the life force,” which mirrors what it signifies in Hindi culture: passion, strength, fertility.

“My childhood was flooded with stories from Hindu myths, with classical music and dance,” she recalls. “It was an enormously invigorating sensory and aesthetic whirlwind.”

Currently, Bharadwaj is concentrating on her writing. Her latest story, “Lord of Our Destinies,” is a satirical short story inspired by a politician in India. She also is working on several novels, hoping one might provide source material for a new film.

To read more alumni profiles, check out the latest issue of Temple.

Story by Gary Kramer, FOX ´05

Photography by Ryan S. Brandenberg

Former fashion designer Sharon Pinkenson, CHPSW ´69, EDU ´71, was working as a stylist for commercials when the 1991 film Mannequin 2: On the Move was scheduled to shoot in Philadelphia. Hired as the film´s costume supervisor, Pinkenson assembled outfits and vigilantly tracked how actors were dressed in order to preserve visual continuity from take to take.

The summer after that film was released, she came across an article about the Pittsburgh Film Office and the state funding it received. It inspired her to wrangle the same benefits for Philadelphia.

Pinkenson took her case to Edward Rendell, then mayor-elect of Philadelphia. She thought that location shoots would draw money and tourism to the city, and submitted a proposal that emphasized why Philadelphia should focus on attracting film and television productions.

Within a month of Rendell taking office as mayor, Pinkenson launched the Greater Philadelphia Film Office (GPFO), which began serving the region. (The former office, open since 1985, had focused only on the city.) That same year, she welcomed Oscar-winning filmmaker Jonathan Demme to Philadelphia. He was directing Tom Hanks, Denzel Washington and Antonio Banderas in a film about a man with AIDS who sues the law firm that fired him because of his illness. Though the project had several working titles, it would eventually be named after the city in which it was shot: Philadelphia.

The film was a smash; it earned two Academy Awards and grossed more than $200 million worldwide. Philadelphia remains Pinkenson´s favorite project. She recalls being thrilled when Demme agreed to "name it after my city."

"We changed the world with that movie," she says about the attention the film gave to the AIDS crisis. "It was the first Hollywood movie about HIV, and it was a universal story with big stars that was seen around the world."

Twenty years later, Pinkenson is executive director of the GPFO, a nonprofit corporation that has generated $4 billion in revenue for the southern Pennsylvania region through on-location film and television production. (According to the Motion Picture Association of America, Pennsylvania´s more than 16,000 film and television jobs provided upward of $730 million in pay in 2011.)

The GPFO works to expand the local film and video industry, and attract film and video productions of all kinds to the region. Once a production is in town, it helps producers secure permits, local labor, locations and more. The GPFO also nurtures the local film community. In 2001, it launched Greater Philadelphia Filmmakers, a program that provides the local film and video industry with educational and professional opportunities.

CITY IN DISGUISE

Pinkenson reconnected with Demme in the late 1990s, when he sought a location for Beloved. Originally, he wanted to shoot the adaptation of Toni Morrison´s novel—about a slave visited by a ghost—on location in Cincinnati, because he "wanted to be true to the material." When Pinkenson heard that, she called the producers and was told the same thing.

"A couple of weeks later, the producers in Cincinnati said they could not find two 19th-century buildings next to each other," Pinkenson recalls. "They complained that there were no good hotels or food [in Cincinnati], and asked if we could do 1880s Cincinnati. I knew Old City as well as anyone, so they sent me the screenplay and I brought them to 3rd Street between Market and Race. They loved it and shot a pivotal part of the film there."

Beloved is one of many instances Philadelphia has "played" another city on film or television. Filmmakers often shoot the city as New York, as in Safe (2012), about a man protecting a young girl with a secret, and Limitless (2011), in which Philadelphia native Bradley Cooper plays a writer whose life is enhanced by a dangerous drug.

Philadelphia also plays New York twice in 2013: in Dead Man Down, a thriller starring Colin Farrell, and in Paranoia, featuring Harrison Ford and Gary Oldman.

Pinkenson cannot understand why some Philadelphians complain about seeing films in which New York signs hover above Philadelphia streets. "They should be cheering!" she exclaims. "We´re fooling them again, because we can! I love shooting for New York—I have no problem with it. Toronto and Vancouver have been shooting for Philly for years."

Philadelphia also acts as the nation´s capital. "Girard College is our ´D.C.,´" Pinkenson boasts ebulliently. Founded in 1848, the buildings on the school´s sprawling, 43-acre campus look positively presidential. When Disney spent $1 million prepping in Maryland for the 2006 film Annapolis, the production team had trouble securing locations with the U.S. Naval Academy. But once the crew saw Girard and weighed the cost and access versus what they faced in Maryland, the studio moved the shoot to Philadelphia.

Annapolis also was a key film for the GPFO: It was the first production attracted to the city by the Pennsylvania Film Production Tax Credit Program. Championed by Pinkenson, that program allows filmmakers—from low-budget indies to $100 million blockbusters—to shoot in the city affordably.

"I fought for it over a couple of years," Pinkenson admits. "I got the business community and the citizens to realize that the film office was great for economic development, tourism and civic pride."

Temple has been used as a set, too, most recently for the NBC series Friday Night Lights. In July 2010, Main Campus welcomed those who crossed its threshold with a banner celebrating the fictional Braemore College. Flags emblazoned with Braemore "B"s replaced those with Temple "T"s. (In the 1980s, the teen film The In Crowd also was shot on Main Campus.)

Shooting on campus was a homecoming for Pinkenson. After earning an associate degree in dental hygiene, she returned to Temple to earn a bachelor´s degree in education. Surprisingly, she never took a radio/TV/film class. She went from getting a degree in education to working in film "completely by accident. I also had a dental hygiene degree. I did that for eight years, but when I decided to move on, I opened [a clothing boutique called] Plage Tahiti with my best friend. It was an instant success." When her interest in the store had run its course, she worked as a stylist for commercials, which led to film work.

"At Temple, we´re very scrappy," Pinkenson says from her office in Center City. "You learn life skills, and how to find out what you don´t know, and create a career from an opportunity."

SHOOTING, LITERALLY

National Treasure, an action-adventure movie about a treasure allegedly hidden by the country´s founding fathers, was filmed in Philadelphia in 2003. With the action set in the city, the production crew was very excited about shooting on location. But it entailed a huge negotiation.

"National Treasure was the very first time filming was allowed in the tower of Independence Hall," Pinkenson recalls. "At first, they couldn´t do it because the film wasn´t historically accurate. We argued that it was a great promotion for Independence National Historical Park. We came up with a solution to add a promotional video for Independence Hall to the DVD. Then the filmmakers had tremendous access."

Perhaps because of the success of National Treasure, the 2007 film Shooter, starring Mark Wahlberg as a marksman hired to prevent a presidential assassination, wanted to shoot—literally—in the city´s historical district.

"They wanted to put an actor posing as a sniper on the roof of the Visitor Center," Pinkenson says with a hint of incredulity. "But [the center] said, ´Absolutely not!´ They used the tower of Christ Church instead."

Other parts of the city also are filmmaker favorites. Boathouse Row was the backdrop for the 2012 rowing movie Backwards. And Pinkenson remembers the cast and crew of the 1998 film Fallen—starring Denzel Washington as a detective tracking a copycat killer—conducting Pat´s and Geno´s cheesesteak taste-tests between takes. Additionally, Pat´s makes an appearance in Shadowboxer, a 2005 film by Lee Daniels, whose oeuvre also includes the Academy Award-winning Precious (2009). Pinkenson served as Shadowboxer´s co-executive producer.

As she examines her career, Pinkenson is pleasantly humble, but justifiably proud. "Now, Philadelphia is a movie town. Everyone wants to know what´s shooting and who is in town. It makes people feel better about where they live. That´s something money can´t buy."

Pinkenson also vows to remain at the GPFO. "I have no plans to leave the film office," she says. "But I could be enticed to consult again for a foreign country with an emerging film industry. I loved consulting for South Africa and Lithuania, and nothing makes me happier than traveling to new places where I can meet new people, cultures and talents, and perhaps even help others by sharing my experiences. But Philadelphia will always be home."

Gary M. Kramer, FOX ´05, is a Philadelphia-based freelance writer whose work appears in numerous magazines and journals. He also is publicity manager of Temple University Press.

Story by Anna Nguyen

Illustration by Lynda Cloud-Weber

A screech fills the air as a vehicle begins barreling down a track at almost 40 miles an hour. The vehicle careens swiftly before slamming to a halt, all in a fraction of a second.

After the impact, a man approaches the vehicle to assess the damage inside. But the accident did not take place at a crash-test site; it happened on Main Campus, in a lab in the College of Engineering, on a small-scale crash simulator sitting atop a 19-foot aluminum track that was constructed to examine one of the most common, yet misunderstood, motor-vehicle-related injuries: traumatic aortic rupture (TAR).

Traumatic aortic rupture—a partial or complete tear in the aortic wall—is the second-leading cause of death from motor-vehicle accidents, with 12 to 29 percent of vehicular deaths related to it, according to studies by the Indiana University School of Medicine in Indianapolis and the London Health Sciences Centre in Ontario, Canada, among others. (Traumatic brain injury is the leading cause of deaths related to car accidents.)

In the U.S. and Canada, TAR results in 7,500 to 8,000 deaths annually. And as researchers in the College of Engineering note, those figures have remained constant for the past 60 years—even with the use of seatbelts and airbags being widespread.

It takes only 30 milliseconds for TAR to occur during a crash. In the Biomechanics Laboratory, the car that just crashed is a clear, 12-inch by 6-inch polycarbonate rectangular box containing a porcine aorta filled with water. When the vehicle collides with a shock absorber, the aorta continues moving into an indenter—a piece of metal that pinches the aorta to recreate TAR.

Replicating that injury is one part of the research led by Kurosh Darvish, director of the Biomechanics Laboratory and an associate professor in the College of Engineering. A leader in his field, Darvish aspires to change TAR´s persistent fatality rates by using biomechanics, an innovative field that applies mechanics and mechanical engineering principles to health-related issues.

Darvish wants to examine the injury in young and healthy tissue, because it has not yet been altered by age and is less likely to have been changed by disease. When more is understood about TAR in young, healthy tissue, researchers can examine how it affects tissue that has aged already. Under what conditions is the risk of aortic injury higher? Will it lead to an aneurysm? Catastrophic failure? Will it be able to heal on its own?

This is what researchers do know: The aorta is the body´s largest artery, and carries blood from the heart to the rest of the body. It contains four sections: the ascending aorta, the aortic arch, the descending thoracic aorta and the abdominal aorta. As the blood travels from the heart, the ascending aorta moves up through the chest toward the head. Then, it bends or arches and reaches the descending aorta, which moves down through the chest and abdomen. When TAR occurs, the majority of tears happen in the aortic isthmus, the point where the mobile aortic arch meets the more fixed descending aorta, attached to the chest wall.

Exactly how the aorta tears after the chest hits a steering wheel or an airbag is unknown, but researchers suspect the cause involves a complex combination of forces following that blow: the blood pressure rising from the impact, the upward movement of the heart and the pinching of the aorta between the front of the chest wall and the spine.

If not treated quickly, TAR can cause profuse bleeding that can result in death. It has an 85-percent mortality rate at the accident scene. When it is not immediately fatal, the condition is difficult to detect and may go unnoticed, since most patients do not exhibit symptoms. Of those who survive the initial injury, a majority will die from its worsening over time.

"We need to understand how the failure happens," Darvish says. "There is a progression of injury. It´s not just injury and no injury. We want to know when the injury becomes a problem and needs medical intervention. We want to be able to predict if it needs treatment, from surgery to medication."

In the medical world, clinicians could predict the probability and severity of TAR to determine optimal treatment options. In the commercial setting, automakers can use those answers to aid in designing more effective safety devices, such as seatbelts and airbags.

ON IMPACT

Tissue-biomechanics researchers like Darvish seek to find mechanical measures to predict failure in tissues. Working with tissue presents a challenge, since it does not all behave the same way in experiments and has many components.

Researchers use mathematics to combat those complexities and analyze the damage or deformation of the tissue—the change in its shape or size due to an applied force. The tissue´s composition changes significantly when it becomes damaged from stress and strain, Darvish says.

Funded in part by grants from the National Institutes of Health, Darvish and his team of seven graduate students—one master, six doctoral—develop and use physical and computer models to replicate TAR. They analyze how applied force, pressure and acceleration affect the severity of the injury.

Darvish also works with collaborators in the School of Medicine—Professor of Physiology Michael Autieri, CHPSW ´85, and Associate Professor of Surgery and Chief of Vascular Surgery Eric Choi.

"We needed to find simple and repeatable ways to test tissue," Darvish explains. "Based on that, we can make a computer model. What we don´t have is a model of how the tissue fails."

For the physical model, Darvish uses the aluminum track and vehicle to simulate a car crash precisely. Video, shot at 2,000 frames per second, and high-speed photography track the movement of the aorta. The aorta itself also is outfitted with photo targets that measure the biomechanical inputs. The indenter is painted black, to show its impact on the aorta.

After each crash, samples from the aorta are flash frozen with liquid nitrogen so researchers can microscopically examine thin, cross-sectional slices for tears inside the aortic wall. (The aorta tissue is approximately 1 to 2 millimeters thick.)

Large tears can be seen by the naked eye, but the microscope reveals small tears buried within layers of tissue. Darvish says that even when an aorta is not ruptured, the tears point to the possible long-term effects of an accident. Researchers then try to determine if the microscopic damage will lead to a tear or rupture of the artery, or if it can repair itself.

The physical model can create tissue failure in a controlled and replicable way to verify data from the computer model. Darvish says that many mechanical parameters—such as measures for tissue failure—cannot be measured physically, so a computer model calculates those parameters. Measurements help researchers estimate the motion and deformation of the aorta in a computer model. Darvish notes that once they can produce a similar motion using a computer model, more complex accident situations can be produced virtually. "We don´t want to alter the tissue by attaching too many sensors to it," Darvish explains. "Therefore, we make some measurements, validate the computer model against these measurements and then rely on the computer model for measurements we can´t make. We can´t measure deformation inside the aortic wall, but we can calculate it."

To help create more uniform parameters, Darvish uses math to analyze how the tissue has been changed from the impact, the variation in different layers of the aorta wall and the directional orientation of fibers within each layer of the aorta.

What he learns about the tissue also can be applied to cardiovascular diseases, such as the loss of the elastic properties of a blood vessel due to disease or aging. In the case of the aorta, that loss can cause the separation and tearing of layers of the aortic wall.

ON THE ROAD

"The work [Darvish] does is very unique and important," saysMohammad Kiani, professor and chair of mechanical engineering, and director of the Biofluidics Laboratory in the College of Engineering. "With accidents in general, we want to understand how injury impacts the human body. Then we can develop technologies to prevent them." Kiani recruited Darvish to come to Temple eight years ago.

Darvish began examining TAR in 2000, when he served as a research assistant professor of mechanical engineering at the University of Virginia in Charlottesville. The National Highway Traffic Safety Administration (NHTSA) identified TAR as an important safety issue and funded a project at that university to determine its mechanisms. Darvish says the NHTSA relies on the findings from impact-biomechanics labs to determine the safety of cars.

In the Biomechanics Laboratory, Darvish also studies traumatic brain injury, the leading cause of death from motor-vehicle crashes. Information about the deformation of brain tissue that is the result of head trauma can help spur new tools with which to measure brain injury and develop better protective systems.

Darvish´s latest work involves blast injuries suffered by soldiers. An explosion consists of three parts: a pressure wave, the projectile and a final wind. He has designed a model called a "shock tube" that examines how the first and last components of explosions can cause damage to the brain. And in the Virtual Environment and Postural Orientation Lab, the underlying causes of instability are studied in the College of Health Professions and Social Work, in order to help create therapies that will improve balance in impaired populations, such as those who have suffered from strokes.

"The more we know about traumatic injuries, the better we can prevent them and find ways to treat them more effectively," Darvish says. "The fact that my research results in saving lives excites me the most."

Anna Nguyen is a Philadelphia-based freelance writer whose work has appeared in the health section of The Philadelphia Inquirer, on WebMD and elsewhere. She also is a former reporter for two publications in New Jersey.

Story by Renee Cree, SMC´12

Photography by Alvin Wang

Ariel Marks, a second-year medical student, consults a woman with a large bruise on her leg as a third-year student looks on. The woman could be a grandmother, or una abuela: In her mid-to late 50s, she is petite, with long, grayish-black hair and a warm smile. At Temple University Hospital (TUH), a patient with bruising can often be treated easily and will leave on the road to recovery. But the scene is not unfolding inside a building on North Broad Street—it takes place in a tent, in the middle of a Nicaraguan jungle, in front of an abandoned community center with a dirt floor and no plumbing. Marks is one of a group of Temple medical students deployed to this shantytown outside Nicaragua´s capital, Managua, as a part of the Temple Emergency Action Corps (TEAC). Since 2007, TEAC has traveled to various Central and South American countries to provide medical care to those affected by natural disasters.

Marks and his classmate run several tests on the woman and, after consulting with an attending physician, determine that the cause of her bruising is diabetes. When the abuela learns her diagnosis, she bursts into tears. The disease has killed her husband already. She knows there is a real possibility it will kill her, too.

Six months later and 3,700 miles away, Marks sits in Temple´s gleaming Medical School building, where local residents with diabetes—or those at risk of getting the disease—can receive free nutritional counseling, education, and blood pressure and blood- glucose tests. Marks reflects on his time with the abuela. He looks down and laughs briefly, sadly.

"We tried to explain to her that she could control the disease easily, that she could go to a nearby clinic to see a doctor," he says. "But patients can wait for days at those clinics, and they are often out of whatever medication is needed. She wasn´t present in the moment anymore; she was consumed with the image of her husband in his last months.

"Thankfully, our health system is good enough here that diabetes is something that can be managed," he adds. "But there, it´s scary." He pauses and shakes his head, as though he cannot believe such a situation exists in the 21st century. When he speaks again, his voice is soft. "In the end," he says, "she went home with the knowledge that what happened to her husband would happen to her."

It can be difficult for medical students—especially those in their first or second years with little to no clinical experience—to see people suffer to such a degree from something as easily manageable as diabetes. Marks says he felt overwhelmed by this woman´s situation. But he also says he and his fellow students are buoyed by such encounters. They are helping others and learning all they can in the process.

STUDENTS WITHOUT BORDERS

The idea of a student-run disaster-relief program came about in 2005, in response to Hurricane Katrina. Zoe Maher, MED ´08, then a Temple medical student, watched on television as the storm and flood waters pummeled the New Orleans neighborhood where she had once been a public-school teacher.

That fall, Maher was able to secure initial funding from the Temple University School of Medicine Alumni Association and the Arnold P. Gold Foundation to lead 10 medical students and two doctors on two trips to New Orleans. Maher and her team provided basic medical care and general manpower to residents in the hardest-hit areas of the city.

"The goal of our trips to New Orleans was certainly to help the people in Louisiana," says Maher, now a resident at Temple University Hospital, "but also to eventually help people in other parts of the country and the world." Temple Emergency Action Corps officially launched the following year, and thanks to a grant from the Greenfield Foundation—of which William Greenfield, MED ´69, ´74, is director, and his daugher, Jill Feldman, FOX ´91, is manager—the program was able to expand its efforts outside the U.S. through an annual service-learning trip that takes place during spring break. Thus far, the group has traveled to Bolivia, El Salvador, Panama and Nicaragua.

"About two months before spring break, the group meets to determine a site where it will be most useful," says Manish Garg, associate professor of clinical emergency medicine, associate residency program director at the School of Medicine and TEAC faculty advisor.

"They work to find a contact there—usually with governmental or church groups—to help with the logistics of getting to the site."

As Marks explains, TEAC chose Nicaragua in 2012 because the country is prone to seasonal flooding, which has intensified over the past few years because of extreme weather patterns. And after Haiti, it is the second-poorest nation in the Americas. According to the World Bank, approximately 63 percent of the rural population lives below the poverty line, and close to 20 percent suffers from undernourishment—the highest percentage of the condition in Central America.1 Further, only about 37 percent of the rural population has access to adequate sanitation,2 which can lead to a host of health problems including rashes, parasites, infection and fever.

So rather than grappling with a specific disaster, the country is mired in an ongoing one. The students wanted to help. Over the course of its trip, TEAC treated more than 500 people for conditions ranging from infection to scarlet fever to heart disease to diabetes.

MACGYVER, MD

All medical students are eligible to participate in the service-learning trips, but they must first complete an elective course called TEAC I, during which they are trained in emergency medicine and disaster preparation. Throughout the semester, students participate in workshops to learn skills such as splinting, casting, intubating, inserting IVs and dressing wounds. They also run through ethical role-playing exercises, such as what to do during a mass casualty.

"You get experiences and learn skills through TEAC that you wouldn´t get in a lecture or from a book," says Marks, coordinator of the TEAC Ielective. "It´s a great thing—especially in your first two years of medical school—to learn how to practice medicine in a real-world setting."

Perhaps it gets no more realistic than seeing patients who lack basic healthcare offerings. Faculty advisor Garg recalls an instance during the 2010 trip to El Salvador: The group encountered a young girl who was so badly bowlegged, she could no longer walk. The team was able to craft a brace for her using only Ace bandages and medical tape. The effect was instant—she could walk again.

Also in El Salvador, a boy came to the clinic with a fused frenulum—the strip of skin underneath the tongue that attaches it to the lower jaw. The condition impeded his ability to speak; he could only say "mama" and "papa," and he was falling behind in school. Once Garg snipped the skin, the boy was able to talk again, saying words his parents had never heard him say before."I know it sounds a little grand to say that TEAC can help people walk and talk again," Garg says with a smile. "But in those cases, we did."

READY, GO

Prior to graduating in 2008, Maher led TEAC to Bolivia, where "the first- and second-year students bonded with their older peers and got a powerful hands-on learning experience," she says. "Traveling to areas of disaster allows you to see patients as complete people and to recognize how the challenges people face outside their doctors´ offices can affect their healthcare."

A world away, Katie Guevel has experienced a similar feeling during her visits to Philadelphia´s homeless shelters as part of TEACH, the domestic arm of TEAC (read more). "There are so many things patients have to worry about: ´How am I going to get to my appointment if I don´t have a car? How will I afford my medication?´" she explains. "Meanwhile, all the doctor sees is an empty time slot. It´s important to make the effort to see things from the patient´s perspective."

Whether at home or abroad, Garg says that TEAC offers students the opportunity to think on their feet—which leads them to become better doctors. "It´s important for them to be ready for anything, anytime," he says. "You see it in former paramedics—the ones who have gone through broken floorboards to get to a patient or have put in IVs while in a cramped space, standing on one foot. They are often the best doctors. They know where a patient came from; they know a patient´s whole story.

"I think the new breed of medical resident isn´t satisfied with only practicing in a hospital," he continues. "They want to take that knowledge and apply it to the wider world. The human condition is the same no matter where you go. If you can communicate effectively with your patients, it makes a huge difference in their lives."

(Listen to a news report on the El Salvador trip from WRTI, Temple's NPR affiliate.)

1 Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations. "Food Security Indicators 2011—Nicaragua." 2011.

fao.org/fileadmin/templates/ess/documents/food_security_statistics/monitoring_progress_by_country_2003-2005/Nicaragua_e.pdf.

2 UNICEF. "At a Glance—Nicaragua." unicef.org/infobycountry/nicaragua_statistics.html.